#also Somehow my beautiful boyfriend happens to be drop dead gorgeous

[parlerenfleurs]

Savouring the fact that, these days, despite my objective knowledge that I'm not within the accepted canons of beauty, I find myself quite appealing

[deliciousangelfestival]

Chapter 2

Character : Mob!Steve Rogers x Female Reader (?)

Summary : Steve was hoping to meet the right one until he met her. But is he ready to be with her? He thought his life already dark because of his job. He wouldn’t able to find a woman that strong enough to face the hardship to stand beside him. Turn out his life is nothing compared to her. 

A/n :This #### will be used to explain the character’s past. 

Warning : Grammar mistakes, since English is not my first language.

Somewhere in Brooklyn. 

There’s a female who is taking a nap on the couch. Today’s activity kind of exhausts her because of last night and the unexpected event at the restaurant. She wants to take a nap first before having dinner. But after 10 minutes, her beautiful sleep got distracted.

“(Y/N) !!! (Y/N) !!!” 

(Y/N) awakened up from her nap because of the smashing door. She rubbed her eyes with her backhand. When her eyes finally focused, she could see someone standing in front of her. 

She lazily asked him, “What’s up, Bambi?”

“Don’t call me with that nickname.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because you have grown up. But Peter Parker, in my eyes, I will always remember the boy who cried asking me for ice cream.” She put on her smirk smile, her hands moving fast to mess up his hair.

He slapped her hand that made her giggle.

“It’s not like I hate you coming to my house? But what’s wrong with that pouted face Peter?”

Peter heavily sighed; this time, he threw his body to the couch. He crossed his arms and pouted. 

“Aww, ~~ What's it, partner? If you keep sighing, you will get older.”

“Urgh,” Peter rests his head on her shoulder. “When can I have a job that doesn't relate to guns?”

"You can."

Peter lifts his head to get a look at her. "How?"

"Die first."

"Thanks (Y/N)."

(Y/N) shrugged her shoulder, "You can't get rid of it. It's already in your DNA."

She pinches Peter's cheeks. "Why do you sound sarcastic today?" Usually, every time he came into her house, she could see flowers behind him. Now the background changes into grumpy Squidward. 

Peter’s face still on the pillow, he grumbles, "You shouldn’t come to my work today."

"Why not? I'm worried about you."

"Pietro has been asking me about you."

"He knew I'm related to you?" (Y/N) seems surprised.

Peter nodded. "He noticed on my first day."

"He's good."

"But today…. It's not only him." Peter grumbled.

(Y/N) still impressed about Pietro’s instinct, she didn’t hear Peter grumbled since he speaks to soft "What?"

He shook his head "Nothing."

"Are you going to have a sleepover?"

Peter has been living in his place since he graduates from university. Before he said anything (Y/N), grab his hand. "Please… I'm tired eating delivery also instant mac&cheeseeeee~."

Peter shook his head; who would even think a former assassin like (Y/N) could act like a child because of food. 

####

To explain the relationship between Peter and (Y/N); both are not related by blood. (Y/N) knew him because of his mother, and she met him when she was an assassin.

And a deadly one. 

Why did she leave? 

Because of Peter. 

Something happened that made (Y/N) choose to burn everything from her past to the ground literally. She made quite a name in the underworld. 

####

"Fine." He answered that made (Y/N) raised her arms to cheer. 

"But only for today though, because my new housemate is coming." said Peter while he went to the fridge to get some ingredients.

(Y/N) looking at his back, the boy in front of him acts more mature than her. Time moved so fast the first time she met him; he asked her for a piggyback, cried when she didn't give him ice cream and blamed her when he's the one who broke his mother's favorite plate. 

And now, he is almost taller than her, independent, better at cooking and moving out from their luxury home. 

(Y/N) puts her chin on her palm. "I don't understand why you need to move out." She doesn't want to tell the truth that she misses him.

Peter already started cutting the vegetables. He had a reason why he moved out; somehow (Y/N) past will come to hunt and target her.

####

Peter knew everything about her and saw it. He could live with it, but he couldn't sleep every time he heard a gun, a sound of grunting because of the stabbing, and in the morning, he saw their house destroyed with bullet holes and destroyed furniture.

They have to move a couple of times. 

He never saw any blood and dead bodies, (Y/N) top priorities were to get rid of the blood and bodies before he sees it. 

Peter knew that she understood his reason why; he could see her teary eyes when he told her he wanted to move out. She felt guilty for all the things he had been going through because of her. 

But it takes two to tango. Peter was the one who asked to stay beside her before she dropped him with his aunt May Parker on that day. 

What (Y/N) said was right; it’s already in his DNA. Danger always follows him because of his mother. 

His mother used to be an assassin like (Y/N) until she met his father. She left everything to build a family together.  

But their happy life was cut short; one day, he lost his parents, and that's the first time he saw the dark side of (Y/N) and the first time he knew what revenge is. 

####

"I met someone." Peter answer. 

"Owww~ My brother is a man now~."

Peter looked at her through his shoulder. 

She nodded her head multiple times. "I understand you need privacy."

"But use protection okay?"

"Ugh,(Y/N)!! Seriously…?"

(Y/N) laughed while putting her hands on it defensively. "Sorry, I will stop it."

After 30 minutes, both of them finally eat dinner together. 

"Someone else beside Pietro also asked about you."

"Hmm."

"You knew who it was don't you?"

(Y/N) winked at him. 

She knew it must be Steve because it is obvious he tries to flirt with her, and she gave him her phone number. She made a program if someone put specific keywords along with her fake name, she would get notified. (Y/N) only tell her real name to someone that she could fully trust. 

She must admit he almost got her, with the help from Starks, the other genius, but she's better at hiding.-

"You planned to make him more curious about you right?"

"You're getting smarter Peter." (Y/N) want to meet Steve once again. Today the moment she saw his face, it looked like a cheesy chick flick movie. 

She could replay the moment he approached her. And when he tried to be cool to say 'Hi' but failed, that was cute. 

(Y/N) wasn’t planning to stay long at the restaurant today but she has to because she’s worried about Peter. Last night both of them went out to get dinner when they had back her old enemy try to target her. It failed since (Y/N) is much more powerful, but Peter’s shoulder got hit. 

He said he was fine, but her heart clenched when she saw the blue bruise on his shoulder. Peter is a stubborn boy; he doesn’t want to make her worried. But she is; that’s why she chooses to stay to make sure he’s alright. 

She didn’t regret staying since she met a gorgeous man today. Perhaps cupid plays its part. 

Peter added, "He's a good boss, don't shock him."

"You make me look like a cold hearted bitch." (Y/N) scoffed. 

Peter sighed. "The time when you were with Billy Russo?"

"It was brief, but we are cool."

"It's hard to believe when he sent his Anvil team to get you."

"Because of me, he learned that his team was weak. He even sent a letter thanking you and said let's meet again."

Peter furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head; he wishes he wishes the best for Billy. 

"The time with August Walker?" 

"To be fair, I betrayed him, but hey, we got a free helicopter." 

"Zemo?"

"Both of us agreed to break up, and he ended up married with his true love. Happy ending."

Peter sighed "(Y/N); the reason why I'm saying this is because everytime you broke up with your boyfriend, they would come after you." The aftermath is always messy. 

"I love this job, and my new friend. Please don't mess this up." He makes it clear since he liked his new workplace; the first time he came for the interview, he knew something different.

####

How Peter ended up working in Steve Rogers’s business?

Peter’s previous boss closed the restaurant to enjoy retirement with his wife. He recommended Peter to try at Rogers. 

Rogers restaurant has been known as a prestigious dining place. He thought his chance was small, but it turned out he passed with flying color. Wanda was impressed by the way he could keep up with her work ethic. 

After working a few days, he realized Rogers is not just a regular restaurant.

Pietro interrogated him to get some info about (Y/N), and one more obvious reason he saw a gun under Vision blazer, why would a manager own a gun? Why?

Then (Y/N) told him the truth that his boss is a famous mobster in Brooklyn. 

Peter sighed when he heard that; he thought he could start living like an average person. 

####

"You knew me Peter." She put down the knife and fork, then sipped a glass of red wine. 

"I'll listen to you. Besides, I quite like him."

Peter widened his eyes "You mean genuine like him right? Without any agenda?"

(Y/N) nodded, "Maybe he could be your future brother in law."

Peter immediately shivered to imagine Steve became his family. "Let's not think to far (Y/N)."

Unlike Peter, someone else already thinks of it. 

Somewhere far away, in a secret mansion where Steve and others gathered. 

Three of them sit around the table; Bucky and Sam were nervous while Steve is playing with the dagger. 

Natasha is furious. "I knew someday Rumlow will make a fuss at our area and make a big mess. But what I don't understand is why I got a call from the fixer and then the interior design telling me they want an extra payment because we asked them to finish in a month?"

She already anticipated the surprise attack from Brock since he replaces Pierce. It’s nothing new for them. 

She noticed that Steve doesn’t listen to her complaints "Did Brock hit Steve's head? It looks like he’s not listening to me.” 

Sam bumped Bucky’s elbow to talk to his wife. 

Bucky cleared his throat because his seat is near to her. He leaned closer to her ear and whispered, "Honey, Uhm… so today, something else happened."

Natasha listened what her husband whispered to her, what she hear made her gasped "Pietro!! Bring out the vodka !!" She called out their favorite bartender.

"Wake him up," Nat told her husband, her head pointed at Steve. 

Bucky threw a french fries from his plate at Steve. 

It hit Steve’s cheeks, successfully got his attention. He realizes Natasha sits in front of him, and Pietro serves them vodka. 

Sam shook his head; he silently murmured his boss also, his best friend is in lovesick right now.

"Ooh, something to celebrate?"

"Little white wolf told me you got lovestruck today?"

Bucky’s hand covers his red cheeks when his wife mentions his nickname while Sam pretends not to hear it. 

"Yes." Steve admitted. 

"Congrats.” Natasha smirked while asking him, “So... she's the reason why you want our restaurant to reopen next month?"

"Correct."

"Ow, interesting."

“What makes her unusual was, she’s the only guest that didn’t run when the fight happens.” Bucky said. 

“She’s the one who gave him that dagger.” Sam added. 

“And, we couldn’t find anything about her even with the help from Starks.”

Bucky and Sam told her everything; they told her with excitement like they found a discovery. 

Natasha was immensely impressed when she heard that “Can’t wait to meet her.” 

They wish Steve could find someone that can accept who he is. In the last relation he had, they tried to change him by asking him to leave the mobster. It ended up badly, making Steve became bitter about everything. 

If this woman not afraid to see what happened today, perhaps she could accept who Steve is.

"Me too." Said Steve, his lips could reach his eyes. His eyes are still looking at the dagger, thinking that he has to impress her the next time they meet.

A/N: Dum Dum dum~~~~ 

The female reader turned out to be a retired assassin.  At first, I want to make the reader be Peter’s godmother, but I don’t want her to be that old, so I change it to stepsister. 

Thank you for all the likes, my new follower and for repost. I really appreciate it. 

Please tell me if you want to be tagged for the next chapter.

>>>Chapter 3

Tag:

@cloudystevie, 

@marce170018

@stepheewdgirlie

@juliealma1

@valhalla-kristin

[pascalscenarios]

THE ONE (Frankie Morales x Reader)

THE ONE

Frankie Morales x Reader  

Summary: You wake up at Frankie’s house. You spend the day with him, only for things to be finally revealed.

Warning: Swearing 

Words: 4552

Authors Note: Whew... You guys aren’t ready for this one...Ahhh!!! Also I just want to say thank you so much for reading my fic. It means so much to me! Enjoy - k 

CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5

Chapter 5

The sunlight peeked through the window, shining down on the bed. Your hair was a mess, sprawled out and disheveled as your head rested against pillows. A white comforter covered your body. You slowly open your eyes to an unfamiliar bedroom. You should have felt scared or panicked when waking up in a stranger's bed, but you felt safe.

You could smell him on the sheets, it was Frankie's bed. You were at Frankie's house.

You laid there trying to remember the events from last night. You were partying with your friends in the club and somehow you ended up with Frankie? Your memories were blurred, only remembering bits and pieces.

You sit up in the bed, your head pounding. Looking down you noticed you were wearing an oversized grey shirt and sweatpants. These definitely weren’t the clothes you wore last night.

You look over to the nightstand to find two Advils and a tall glass of water. You pull the covers off from your body, tossing your legs off the side of the bed. You pop the pills in your mouth and chug down the water.

With the glass in your hand, you get up and walk over and open the bedroom door. The door led to a hallway with multiple other doors. Towards the end of the hall was a large opening, you assumed it was the living room because you heard that the tv was on.

Your feet padded against the wooden floors as you made your way to the living room. The local news was playing on the tv.

“Looks like sleeping beauty decided to wake.”

You gasped. Startled, you turn around to find Frankie leaning against the kitchen counter with a coffee mug in his hand.

“H-hi” you stuttered out.

“Good morning.”

Awkwardness and silence filled the air like usual.

You slowly walk into the kitchen, passing him to get to the sink. You set the glass down in the stainless steel tub and turn to face him. He was staring at you while sipping his coffee, waiting for you to say something.

You stared down at your fingers as you fiddled with them. “Frankie..”

You swear he could read your mind because he started explaining everything that happened last night. He knew you were most likely confused as to why you were at his house.

“You called me last night drunk.” He says placing his coffee mug down on the counter. “You were lost and didn’t know where you were. I’m pretty sure you meant to call Alex, but somehow you called me? I came to pick you up, took you to eat at Dolly's. I was going to take you home, but I don’t know where you live and you were sleeping, so I brought you back to my place.” He explains running his hands through his moppy curls.

“I gave you clothes for you to change into, you took a shower, and slept in my bed. I took the couch.” He motions his head in the direction of the living room.

You look over, seeing a pillow and blanket bunched up on the couch.

“You know I would never-”

“I know, Frankie.” You tell him softly. “I trust you. I always have.” Your heart wrenched. The fact he drove all the way into the city in the early hours of the morning and took care of you meant a lot to you. It was proof that despite what happened between you two, he would always be there for you.

“So… “ He says trying to change the subject. “How’d you get my number?”

God this was going to be embarrassing.

Your face started to turn red as you spoke “Santiago gave it to me. I told him once a couple of years ago I wanted to call you. I’ve tried many times to press call under your name, but I always got scared and chickened out.” you confessed.

“Funny, I did the same thing too, asking him for your number, but never calling.” He chuckled, folding his arms against his chest.

“Huh...you know for the past 10 years I thought you’d never think of me again after that night.” You say you continued to fiddle with your fingers.

“I thought about you every day since then, Smiles. You were always on my mind...you still are.”

You glance up at him. Your heart was beating against your chest at his statement.

You both make eye contact. God, those gorgeous brown eyes that always made you melt. You were a sucker for his eyes, they were captivating. You could always read him from the look in his eyes. His eyes were sorrowful, but also longing.

You quickly divert your eyes breaking you from the trance you were in. What are you doing?! You’re going to get married! You can’t be thinking so deeply about someone else, let alone someone being your ex-boyfriend. Snap out of it!

“So why are your plans for the day?” Making conversation and acting like you guys didn’t have a moment just then. You walked past him and went to go sit on his couch.

“Uh, I don’t know.” He says trailing off, following you, plopping himself down on the opposite side of the couch, giving you some space.

“I was gonna drop you off at home whenever you are ready then go fishing out on the lake for a bit” he picks up the remote and starts flipping through the channels. He stops when he notices Star Wars: Episode IV: A New Hope is airing on tv.

You didn’t want to go home just yet. A few weeks ago you were dead set on avoiding Frankie, but something changed. You wanted to be in his company and spend time with him, at least for today.

“Can I go with you?” you asked.

“Go with me?” He sounded confused.

“Yeah...I mean like spend the day with you...go fishing?”

“You’re hungover and want to go fishing...with me…?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Um...yeah?”

“Don’t you wanna go home?”

“I mean if you want me to leave I can-”

“No!” he said a little too quickly. He clears his throat. “No, you can stay as long as you want, it's just” he stops. “Several weeks ago you were pretty clear you wanted nothing to do with me. You said things between us weren’t fine, we weren’t on friendly terms, and for me to stop wedging my way into your life.”

“I mean it’s a little too late for that now, you managed to crack your way in.” You sighed.

“Have I?”

“You were always a constant in my life until you weren't. You were the closest person to me besides Santiago. So naturally for me, as much as I want to push you away, I’m also drawn to you... You’re familiar. Since you came back into my life, you’ve been on my mind a lot lately..” you opened up to him.

“What are you trying to say?”

“I don’t know... That I’ve missed you, despite everything. Think it would be therapeutic for us to talk and hang out for a day.”

Frankie stayed silent.

“Okay,” he nods, giving you a small smile.

…

You were getting ready to leave with Frankie. You didn’t have anything else to wear, so you decided to just continue wearing his shirt and sweats. It was that or the outfit you wore last night. You patiently waited for Frankie in the living room as he gathered things he needed. You walked over to the front door, grabbing your bag that sat on the small. You reached into your bag pulling your phone out.

Your phone had TONS of text messages and missed calls from your friends and Alex. Your finger sliced against your phone screen noting the long list of notification banners. They had no idea what happened to you last night or where you were. They were worried, thinking the worst possible things that could have happened to you.

You opened your phone, pressing the call icon. Looking at your call log, you noticed you did call Frankie last night. Shaking your head, you clicked contacts, and pressed on Alex’s name. You pressed the phone against your ear.

The call picked up

“Alex-”

“THANK GOD! Where are you?! Are you okay?! The girls were looking for you all night, I was so close to calling the cops! I thought something terrible happened to you!” Alex was worried.

“I’m sorry, I got lost, but I’m fine,” you reassured them.

“Let me come get you, where-”

“Actually, I’m not coming home yet…”

“What? Why? What's wrong?” Alex asked, he thought you were being suspicious.

“I just need time alone…” You lied. I mean you did want to be alone... but with Frankie.

“Time alone? What I’m confu-”

“Alex, I promise you fine. I’m safe….I just need to be alone right now. I’ll explain everything later. I love you. I gotta go”

“Wait-”

You quickly hang up the phone and put your phone back in the bag.

You put your phone back in the bag. You didn’t want to tell him what happened over the phone. It was better to tell him everything in person. You’re debating if you wanted to tell him you were hanging out with Frankie. What he doesn’t know wouldn’t kill the right?

You decided to walk around the room, looking at the various knick-knacks and miscellaneous items Frankie had displayed on his shelves. There were photos of Frankie with his friends and family members, people you recognized. A framed photo caught your eyes. It was a child's painting, with various bright colors brushed on the sheet. In the middle was a handprint of a small child, and one of a grown person.

You continue to walk around the room when you accidentally step on something. You lift your foot, noticing a sterling silver ring on the ground. It was a dainty ring of a crescent moon.

Girlfriend, you thought. You remember him talking to someone on the phone the night with Santiago. It had to be a girlfriend. He has a girlfriend and he brought you home while you were drunk? That’s not good. Yet again you are engaged and here you are spending time with your ex-boyfriend.

But nothing was gonna happen with Frankie. You both hand significant others. You guys were friends… Well sorta. You weren’t sure what to call this relationship.

“You ready?”

You look at him. He was wearing his hat, shirt, jeans, boots, and a backpack hanging off one shoulder. He was also wearing a fisher vest, which made you giggle slightly. Frankie was always a nature boy.

“Yeah.”

“What’s that?” He asks nothing you holding the ring in your hand

“Um, a ring. I found it on the carpet.” You say walking over and handing it to him.

He signs. “I swear she leaves everything everywhere...” he mumbles under his breath, but you couldn’t hear what he said because it was so quiet. He sets the ring on the coffee table.

“Alright let's go,” he says.

…

The lake was peaceful. The water slowly moved. Nothing but sounds of nature. It was calming and relaxing. You and Frankie sat in a small boat out in the middle of the lake. Frankie placed a worm to hook his fishing rod. He stood up, casting his line far out, then sat back down.

You sat there with a fishing rod in your hand patiently for something to bite.

“It’s nice today.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“You must love it out here. This is very you.” You chuckle slightly.

“I try to come when I can. They have a camping site, so I’ll come out on a weekend and camp sometimes.”

“Usually I’ll come here to think.”

“Think about what?”

He shrugged, reeling in his line slightly. “It depends. Sometimes I’ll come to think about stuff like what's going on in my life. Sometimes I’ll think about the past.”

Silence fell between the two of you.

“Hey, Frankie…”

“Yeah?”

“The questions I ask you today, can you be open and answer them honestly? I know that might be asking a lot but-”

“Okay…”

“Really?” You were a bit surprised. I mean he had been honest with you, but only really scratching the surface. You wanted to dig deeper.

“Only if you do the same.”

“Deal.” You smile. “ Did ever come out here to think about me?”

“Plenty of times, Smiles.”

“So, when did you get discharged from the military? I remember you telling Alex you fly cargo?”

“I got discharged a little while after I left. I got my pilot's license suspended for a bit. I managed to get it back and started piloting for a cargo company about 5 years ago.” He reeled him his line, then stood out to cast it again.

“Did you ever get that job you wanted, the one at the magazine company?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Good for you. I knew you could do it. I remember you being so nervous when you did your interview.”

You chuckle slightly at the memory. “Yeah, it was such a mess then, but apparently liked me. It’s a great job. It’s funny actually, Alex’s tech company is in the same building. Our mutual friend introduced us to each other. We were friends for a while, then started dating two years ago.”

You were curious about his girlfriend. He never mentioned her. I mean the phone call at Santiagos and the ring at his house, he had to have a girlfriend.

“How about you? How long have you and your girlfriend been together?”

“My what? Girlfriend? I don’t-”

“Woah!” You said as you jolted forward your hands gripping your fishing pole. You quickly stand up as the fish keeps tugging aggressively on the end line.

“Reel it in Smiles!”

You pull up on the rod as you quickly cranked the reel handle.

“Oh my gosh!” You laugh trying your hardest to reel in the fish.

“Come on, keep going you go!” Frankie cheered you on.

You reeled the last of your line. The fish flew out of the water as you helped the fishing rod up high.

“Alright Smiles!” Frankie laughed as he set his fishing rod into a holder, he stood up quickly and grabbed your line, holding the fish up. You had caught a Bass.

“This one's pretty big!” Frankie grabbed the fish from the bottom of its amount as he unhooked the fish from the line.

“You wanna hold it?” he extends the fish towards you.

“No way! I’m not touching that!” you say moving your body away.

“Come on smiles, you gotta hold a fish you caught!” He says bring the Bass closer to you.

“Frankie! No! Stop!” you protested as you turned away.

“Give your hands,” he says holding his hand out.

“Frankie...”

“Come on, it’s just a fish.”

You sigh holding your hands out. Frankie placed the Bass in your hands. You slightly squeeze its body, making sure you have a grip on the fish. The was Bass was cold, the scales poked the palms of your hands slightly, and it felt slimy.

“See, not so bad!”

The fish began to move, wiggling back and forth in your hand. You let out a yelp, letting out a shriek as you quickly give it back to Frankie.

Frankie busts out laughing as he takes it from your hands.

“That’s not funny!” You shove him as you laughed slightly.

“Stop being such a wimp! It’s just a fish!” He chuckles.

“I told you I didn’t want to hold it!”

“How about you give it a kiss then?” He moves it towards you.

“Stop it! Frankie!”

“It wants a kiss, Smiles, do leave it hanging!” as he tries to get the fish as close to your face as possible.

“Give me a smooch!” he animates his voice, pretending the fish is talking to you.

“NO! Frankie Stop!” You shriek. Frankie gets closer to you, shoving the fish in the face. You reacted by pushing him, Frankie lost his balance and ended up falling over the side of the boat into the lake.

You gasp, your hands flying over your mouth. You kneel on the bench, leaning over the side of the boat.

Frankie’s head pops up out of the water, his Standard Oil Heating hat on his head.

“Frankie are you alright?!”

He takes of his hat, tossing it the boat. He shakes his head, getting so water out and hair out of his eyes, then takes his hands slicking his hair back so he could see.

“Yeah I’m fine, I wasn't expecting to go for a swim though” he laughs as he treads water.

“Here let me help you up” you extend out your hand for him to grab. He takes your hand but you immediately regret it after seeing the mischievous look on his face. You let out a yelp as Frankie yanked you in, flipping over the side of the boat into the water.

Your body hit the water, you come up with the bubbles gasping for air. Frankie is laughing as he treads beside you.

“Now we’re even!”

‘You punk! You did that on purpose! Meanwhile, I accidentally shoved you in!” you slick your hair back out of your face. You splash water in his face.

“Two can play at that game!” he splashes you back.

You swim over to him, placing your hands on his shoulder, then pushing down on him, submerging you both underwater.

Underwater, he grabs a hold of your waist pulling your body close to his. Coming back up you're both laughing, his arms wrap around your body, as your arms wrapped around his neck.

Your guys’ laughs subside as you stare at each other. You take your hand moving a piece of Frankie's hair, out of his face and swipe it to the side. Your heart was beating fast, as you both started to lean in for a kiss. Your nose touches, but you learn your head down, pulling always from him. Swimming back to distance yourself from him.

“I-I think you should take me home now…please...” you whispered.

“Okay…” was all he said. You two swam towards the boat. Frankie got back up first, then helped. He turned on the boat and stirred back to the dock.

…

You both were dripping wet, but Frankie managed to pack extra clothes. You changed behind some bushes into a very large and long shirt that went past your knee. Frankie changed into a plain t-shirt and jeans.

After changing in new clothes and packing things up, you guys headed on the road, Frankie driving you home.

It was silent in the car. Neither of you has anything to say. You had an ongoing battle raging inside of you. You couldn’t believe you almost kissed Frankie, but part of you wanted to. You were so confused about how you felt. You needed to go home and truly be alone to think things over.

“I’m sorry-” You both say at the same time.

You both sign.

“I shouldn’t have leaned in like that-”

“It wasn’t just you Frankie...It was me as well. I should have known better.”

“-Nothing happened.”

“But something almost did, Frankie.”

“So what is this? What are we?”

“We’re not anything Frankie”

“Bullshit and you know that! We may not be together anymore, but we’ve got history. We’re connected. Stop denying how you feel” he snaps at you.

“I don't feel anything, Frankie! You don’t know how I’m feeling! I’m getting MARRIED! MARRIED!” you reminded him.

You huffed, your arms crossed against your chest. You wanted to open but the car door and roll out. You both sat in silence for a good 20 minutes, only speaking when you were giving him directions to how to get to your house you were almost home. You both had cooled off from the argument, but the tension was still high in the air.

As you sat in the passage side of the truck, you noticed something. “Who’s this?” You asked, staring at a polaroid picture that was tapped on his dashboard. You only noticed the photo until now.

Frankie closed his eyes for a split second and deeply sighed. He thought about what you said earlier ‘The questions I ask you today, can you be open and answer them honestly’. He made a deal with you, he had to keep his word. He had to come clean and make things right with you.

You peel the photo off the dash to examine it better. The photo was of a young teenage girl laughing as she smiled. She was outdoors sitting on a log in front of a campfire. Her hands wrapped around a stick with a marshmallow at the end. Behind her, there was a tent pitched up, woods, a lake, and an orange sunset sky that made up the rest of the backdrop.

“That’s my daughter.”

You stopped fidgeting with the photo. You quickly turn your gaze towards him. He didn’t look at you, he stared at the road ahead, his hands placed at the bottom of the steering wheel. You examined the photo some more. This girl had Frankie written all over her. The girl wore his Standard Heating Oil hat and the way her eyes squinted as she laughed was exactly like Frankie.

He didn’t have to tell you because you knew. It clicked. This was it. The answer you’ve been dying to know for years. She was the reason why he left you. Your eyes began to well up with tears. So many thoughts were circling in your head. You were rendered speechless. You had so much you wanted to say but didn’t know where to start. You didn’t know how to feel. You felt overwhelmed.

You kept your eyes on the photo.

“2005, our first break up. When the long-distance wasn’t working when I was stationed halfway across the country.” He began to say. He paused for a moment. “I dated someone for a few months after we broke up, but it didn’t work out with them. A little while after, we got back together. I had no idea she was pregnant. She didn’t tell me. I didn’t find out until she passed away in an accident. I was contacted, they told me I had a 5-year-old daughter and if I wanted to care for her I needed to do a whole bunch of legal stuff to gain sole custody. If I didn't, she would have gone into the foster care system. The night I left you, that’s where I went. I drove across the country to get her.”

You stuck the photo back on the dashboard, then turned to look out the window, watching the tree fly by as he drove down the highway.

“What’s her name?” you asked.

“Lilah...She’s fifteen.”

It was silent in the truck. Frankie said nothing more letting you take in everything.

You sat there thinking about what he told you. You put yourself in his shoes, imagining if you were in his situation at the time.

“I’m not even mad.” You admitted.

“Y-you’re not?”

“I’m more hurt than I am mad, Frankie.” Tears rolled down your face. “I don’t blame you for what you did. You have a daughter and that was your priority. It was important for you to get to know her, take care of her and be her dad.” Your lips began to tremble more tears spilled from your eyes. “I’m just hurt at the fact you didn’t think you could tell me. God, Frankie you should have told me!”

“I was scared! I-I was so scared to tell you! I didn’t know what you were going to think or say! I was afraid you would’ve wanted nothing to do with me after you found out I had a kid with someone else! O-or what if you didn’t want to raise her with me?! It was easier for me to leave you before you did it to me!”

“Frankie, you think I’m THAT terrible of a person? Do you really think I would have walked out on you if you told me? I told you that night, whatever it was, I would have worked it out with you! You had a daughter for crying out loud! Yes, I admit I would have been taken back and shocked, but I would have supported you! I would have raised her and loved her my very own. There's no way I would have turned her away, she half you of you, Frankie.”

“If-If I could go back a-and change things that happened between us, how I ended things-” his voice was shaking, stuttering as he spoke.

“But you can’t Frankie! You can’t change the past! What you did was done, and you’re going to have to live with that! You’re going to have to face the fact I’m getting married! What happened, happened, We just have to let it go...We both have to move on and let each other go”

By the time you said that Frankie pulled up in your driveway, parking his truck. You quickly grab your bag and hop out, closing the door.

“Smiles!” He yelled after you, getting out of his truck, and shutting the door.

You were walking up the walkway when he grabbed your arm. “Smiles-”

“DON’T touch me!” You snapped at him.

“We’re not done talking!”

“There’s nothing to talk about! Leave! Just get out of here!” you cried. You were feeling so many different emotions, you were confused about how you felt, you just wanted him to go so you could be alone. You turn away, walking to your door.

“I love you!” he shouted

Your eyes widen, whipping around quickly. “NO! You don’t get to say that! Not now! What do you want me to say? What the fuck do you expect me to say?! That I love you back?! I can’t! I can’t say that!”

“You can’t or you won’t?! I know deep down in there you love me. I know you do, but you’re afraid to admit it! Too damn scared to admit that you still have feelings for me!

“FRANCISCO MORALES LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE AND GO HOME!”

Alex came rushing out of the house, hearing you yell. He looked at the both of you. You were a crying mess, your hair damps and wearing a T-shirt. Frankie stood there with a pained and angry look on his face.

“What the hell is going on?” Alex had a million questions running through their head but quickly rushed towards you, putting themselves between you and Frankie.

“Baby you alright? You okay?” he asked, cupping your head in their hands.

“Smiles-” Frankie starts walking towards you.

“You need to fucking leave.” Alex turns around, protectively standing in front of you.

Frankie stands there staring at you. Your lips tremble as you avoid his gaze.

“Just go Frankie…” you whispered.

And just like that, he left. Frankie got back in his truck and drove away.

You started to break down, hysterical crying in front of your house. Your chest felt tight as you sobbed. Alex took you into their arms, comforting you.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He says rubbing your back. “Let’s go inside.”

tag // @icanbeyourjedi @im-an-adult-ish

[star-lemonade]

Country Side Vacation (1/2)

Rating: R (AO3: E)

Word count: 3.6k

Genre: smut, romance

A.C.E Junhee x Reader x A.C.E Donghun

CW: smut, mentions of overstimulation, threesome, friends with benefits, a bit of unnamed ex bashing xD

Thanks to @alexing1061 for helping when I was stuck :3

Request: Ok so this is random and it just came to me and I just thought I need it from you bc you’re the only one I know who wrote Poly- So basically can I request something where it’s like you and all of ace are friends and there’s a water fight or whatever that you walk in on and coincidentally you’re wearing a white shirt and it becomes see through but you don’t realise and join the water fight and then ace get flustered and it’s just a nerve war and teasing back and forth and some spice and ty ❤️

You heard the fight before you could see it. There was yelling and laughing coming from the yard behind Junhee’s parents house. He had invited you and some of his other friends there as his parents had left on a two week vacation. Living in the big city was good, but getting away from the late summer heat and crowd was a welcome change. You stayed at a small pension, because you did not want to sleep on the couch in the living room.

The scene that greeted you behind the house was chaos. Somehow the five guys had gotten some water guns. The color on some of them was faded and the plastic of all of them looked dull. Yuchan ran around the yard trying to avoid Byeongkwan’s shots. He was not very good at it evidently by his wet t-shirt. Donghun was watching them, waiting for a good opportunity. His hair had gotten so long that he could tie it up and it looked beautiful on him. If you were perfectly honest, you had had a crush on Donghun for some time now. You had known him for about two years now and it felt like it was too late to make a move now.

Junhee emerged from behind a small shad. You felt a blush creep up your neck. His hair was wet and he wore a floral print shirt that he had not bothered to button up. Secretly you hoped he would never find a girlfriend just so you could stay friends with benefits. Park Junhee was probably the most gorgeous and most ridiculous person you had ever met. He had a smile that could sell water to fish only to drop it before it was paid.

After your break up with your ex, Junhee had come to your place.

###############

There was a knock on your door. I don’t want to see anyone. Who is this again? You did not move from the couch, hoping who ever was there would take the hint and leave. Even though you had finally got your shit together and had broken up with that jerk of an ex boyfriend, you did not feel good.

Another knock, this time louder.

“Please open the door! It’s Junhee.”

Junhee? What is he doing here? You threw back the blanket and staggered over to the door. A storm of knocks was coming down on your door now and when you opened it, Junhee almost fell into your apartment. He took a step forward to avoid the fall and back away again, pretending like nothing happened.

“What do you want?”

“Food and drinks.”

He picked up a plastic bag from the floor and showed it to you.

“Can I come in?”

Junhee gave you his best puppy eyes and it worked. You sighed and opened the door more. He beamed and entered your apartment. Only after he stood in the living room you noticed how your apartment looked. On the couch table were discarded snack wrappers and three mostly empty mugs. You had not washed the dishes in two days either. Fuck. I look like a mess.

Junhee sat the bag down on the couch table, took something out and grabbed the mugs with the other hand. He will see the kitchen. The mugs landed next to the sink that was already full and he put the other thing in the freezer.

“Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

He had brought food from one of your favorite take-out places. You sat down on the couch and took a spoonful. No sooner it had touched your lips you realized how hungry you were. Not eating the whole day did that to you.

“Why are you sitting on the floor?”

Junhee had sat down opposite you and helped himself to some food too. He did not answer your question, so you added:

“Sit next to me.”

I don’t smell do I? No, I showered. Not too long ago actually. Standing under the hot water was a good feeling and you had slept in that day.

Junhee did not want to argue with you and had sat down on the couch. He placed more food on your spoon as you ate. Would be kind of romantic if I didn’t feel like crap and had not lost hope in men.

Junhee took the plates after you had finished and you got up to help.

“Sit.”

“But…“

You stood there awkwardly not knowing what to do and just feeling exhausted. He pushed you back down onto the couch and even wrapped the blanket around your shoulders. Defeated you sank into the soft fabric. Junhee took something out of the freezer and pressed it into your hand.

“You sit down, eat some of this and tell me what exactly happened while I wash the dishes.”

It was ice cream. The one you liked, from your favorite brand.

“ He didn’t even know that this was my favorite.. ”

A sob was rising in your chest but you held it. It made you shiver. A hand landed on your head.

“It’s okay.”

Junhee’s voice was soft and it broke your resilience. You began sobbing. It was unfair that you had put so much into your relationship, but all you got in return was cheating. Your ex had never loved you, you were sure of that. You had just been the most convenient option. Junhee pulled you into a hug and you cried against his chest.

“Everything will be okay.”

It repeated like a mantra in your ear.

The following week you tried to get your mind off your ex and when Junhee asked you if you wanted to go out for dinner, you accepted.

“Thank you for being there. Last week.”

Junhee sipped on his drink, some fruity cocktail, and looked at you.

“No problem.”

He insisted on accompanying you home because you were a bit tipsy. Unfortunately it also took out your filter.

“You know what the worst thing is? The asshole fucked her all the time. He went to her almost every day and nailed her. And I..”

Stopped yourself before you said it. Even your tipsy brain understood this was sensitive.

“You what?”

Junhee gave you a side look.

“Nothing.”

He pouted. This was not something he wanted to let go. Junhee did not give up,

“Come on! Tell me.”

You groaned in exasperation. There was no way you could say it.

“No.”

He caught your arm and spun around. His expression was dead serious.

“Please.”

You licked your lips.

“I haven’t had sex in months, okay?”

Without waiting for his response you tore your arm from his weak grip and almost ran the last few meters to the building entrance. Junhee did not follow you.

The next day however he showed up at your door.

“Hi?”

“Hi.”

Junhee stood awkwardly in the hallway. The fluffy sweater and dark blue jeans looked cute on him. Something tickled your nose. Junhee almost never wore perfume, but for some reason he did now. Very odd.

“What do you want?”

Junhee chewed on his lip and avoided your eyes. What is going on? Is he nervous?

“I think… maybe… how should I put this… theoretically…”

He stopped himself from rambling and took a deep breath. You had never seen him like this.

“Do you... want to have sex with me?”

His face was flushed with the most adorable blush. You fell open but no sound came out. This was not what he had said, no it could not be. Surely you had misheard him.

“Look, it is okay if you don’t want to. Totally fine. I won’t be mad or anything.”

His hand came up in a pleading gesture. You swallowed.

“We shouldn’t have this conversation in the hallway.”

You pulled him into your apartment and slammed the door shut behind him. All of this was very confusing. Why is he suddenly asking this? Without being aware of it you had started pacing the room. Is it because of yesterday? You stopped and looked at Junhee who was awkwardly standing next to the door..

“Are you offering out of pity?”

That thought of Junhee giving you a pity fuck was not very pleasant. You still had some dignity left.

“No. I just … want to have sex with you.”

This time he met your eyes even though he resembled a tomato now.

“Of course, only if you want to.”

The truth was you had never thought about having sex with Junhee. Not because he was not attractive, but because he felt so out of your league.

His hand came up to your cheek and his thumb gently rubbed over it. The blush was still on his face and you found that incredibly attractive. Almost as if suddenly magnetic your lips snapped to his. He froze as you moved against him. Up close he smelled like he had been walking outside, but also of the perfume and flowery shampoo. You were starting to feel awkward kissing his unmoving lips and wanted to pull away when his hand landed on the back of your neck. Your lips lost contact but his hand guided you back. The kiss was intense and needy. His tongue slipped into your mouth and a quiet noise escaped you. A hand landed on your waist and pushed you up against his chest. Despite him looking like a twig he felt solid and warm. You wanted to touch his skin so badly and snuck a hand under his sweater. He had tucked in the shirt he wore under and you pulled it loose.

“Do you want to move somewhere else?”

Junhee looked at you as you finally slipped your hand under his clothes and sighed at the soft skin of his lower back.

“Yes.”

You took his hand and led him to your bedroom. Surprisingly it was very clean. Stress made you want to tidy up and organize things. Even the bed sheets were freshly changed and nothing was lying around.

Junhee cupped your face with both hands and brought your lips together. His kissing made your stomach drop and your heart flutter in a way you had not felt in quite some time. It almost felt like you had a new crush but no sooner had the thought appeared, you pushed it aside. This was about sex, Junhee did not have feelings for you and it was not like you had feelings for him either.

“Everything alright?”

He had backed off a little and gave you a concerned look. Right I had been thinking, not kissing.

“Yes. Sorry I… it’s nothing.”

Junhee did not move to continue so you grabbed his shirt and back up to the bed. You sat on it and practically pulled him on top of you. He was heavier than you had expected and now his weight was basically pinning you into the bed. Yes, beautiful, warm Junhee was on top of you and everything else left your mind when he smiled.

“I’m sorry, I’ll only pay attention to you from now on.”

You put your hands around his neck and he pecked your lips.

“I sure hope so.”

His lips moved to your neck, kissing down towards your collar. Where he touched you your skin felt hot and a shiver went through your body. His soft hair brushed against the sensitive skin of your neck and the hot breath that followed his kisses was nerve racking. Something hard pressed against your leg. Wow, someone is eager. You had expected him to shift his hips away, but instead he tried to wedge one knee between your legs. You let him and a moment later the hardness was pressed against your leg again. Wondering what would happen if you teased him, you gently moved your thigh. The answer was a sharp inhale.

“Can I take off my shirt? I really want your mouth on my chest.”

It came out too fast for your brain to filter it out. Junhee seemed a bit dazed and just nodded without actually moving. You stared at him.

“I can’t take my shirt off like this.”

He smirked suddenly and instead of moving off you placed his elbows next to head.

“No. I guess. you can’t.”

Every other word was followed by a peck on the lips.

“Junhee!”

You laughed as he showered your face with little kisses. They tickled your skin and you squirmed beneath him. His lips catch yours with a different energy. It was sweet and warm at first, but then he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You could not stop the moan bubbling up in your throat when his knee pressed between your legs.

There was nothing you wanted more in that moment but to be naked already. You pulled on Junhee’s sweater and shirt, exposing his back to the cool air.

He stopped kissing you and sat up reluctantly.

“Okay, okay.”

You used the change to pull your hoodie and t-shirt off while Junhee watched. He waited for you to toss your clothes away before he started to peel off his sweater. The confidence in this part was written on his face even though he tried to hide it. You will like what you will see. That is what his movements said. No matter how much you wanted to rain on his parade, to be unimpressed, you actually loved his body. He was not the tallest or biggest guy you had ever seen, but his lean, definite chest and arms were making your mouth water. Your eyes got stuck on his stomach where you could see the outline of his abs appear when he breathed. Further down was something else outlined.

There was not much time to admire the view though because he followed your suggestion from earlier and his mouth landed on your collarbone.

You ran your hands over his back. The smooth skin radiated heat and you wanted to feel more of it against you. If you could have your body and his touching everywhere, that would be heavenly. The thought left your mind when his mouth reached the hem of your pants. You practically yanked him up by hair.

“Don’t.”

“Okay.”

Your grip loosened and you were a bit sorry. It must have hurt.

“Can I use my hands or do you not want to be touched there at all?”

This was certainly not something your ex would have asked.

“Just don’t use your mouth okay?”

He rested his chin on your stomach and studied your face.

“If you’re uncomfortable we can stop.”

Stop now when my underwear is soaked?

“Can I touch you?”

Junhee swallowed audibly.

“Sure.”

He laid down beside you on the bed and finally you got to run your hands over his nice body. Kissing his neck earned you a whimper and it was very cute. You let your mouth wander down, tracing the outline of his abs with your tongue. He sighed and closed his eyes. A thin trail of hairs lead down from his bellybutton to the hem of his pants.

“Can I take them off?”

You hooked a finger into one of the hoops of his pants as he opened his eyes. There was no awkward tension between you two, just a kind of expecting anticipation and he smiled.

“Yes.”

Pulling down the zipper inevitably meant running your hand over the hard bump on his hip and you did that very deliberately. Going so slowly that it was almost just one notch at a time. It was driving Junhee mad. He bit his lip and his eyes alternated between shooting daggers at you and pleading you to continue. The pants had gotten pretty tight because of the teasing and you had some mercy. You pulled the pants down and let your fingers run over his bare legs in the process.

There was something vulnerable about Junhee lying in your bed with only his tight boxers. You could not help yourself but compare him to your ex who had never shown any cracks. He had been in charge because he was the man in this house. And here was Junhee. His arms were over his head with his hands grabbing the headboard, looking at you with a softness that made your heart clench.

You ran your hand over his firm thighs and cupped his hard penis. He closed his eyes and his mouth fell open a little bit. How had you never thought about how beautiful Junhee would look? You kissed the skin just above the hem of his underwear before pulling it down a bit. His hand was on your cheek.

“You don’t have to, okay?”

Oh. You had hated to give your ex blowjobs and at some point you had told Junhee while drunk.

“It’s really fine if you don’t. I won’t be mad.”

His thumb brushed over your cheek and his voice was heartbreakingly soft. You nodded.

“Okay.”

The underwear still needed to be removed so you hooked your fingers under the elastic and pulled it down. The trend of his body continued here too. He may not be the biggest but so pretty. You took him into your hand and marveled at the silky smooth skin. A decision was made in an instant. Your lips closed around the tip and you ran your tongue from the bottom of the head up to the slit. Junhee gasped and his hand was in your hair. Whatever he wanted to say was replaced by a moan as you took him into your mouth as deep as you could. The sounds he made the situation in your pants worse. The gasps and cute little moans were almost too much to handle. How will it be when he actually comes?

“Stop.”

He lightly tugged at your hair to emphasize his point. You let his penis slide out of your mouth.

“I don’t want to come in your mouth.”

“Why?”

Didn’t all guys think it’s hot when you swallow?

“You don’t like it.”

That was true. The taste of cum was not a good memory for you.

“What do you want to do now?”

Junhee looked at you and for a second you wondered what would happen if you said you wanted him to leave. Would he just gather up his pants and go? You decided the answer would be yes. From everything you knew about Junhee, you were sure that you could trust him.

“I want you on top of me.”

He nodded.

“Okay just let me get something.”

While he left the room you used the time to look in the mirror and check your hair. He came back with an unopened package of condoms. I admire his preparedness. Junhee took one of the packages out and sat the box on your nightstand.

You watched as he grabbed himself and rolled the condom on. Yes, Junhee was beautiful but not only on the outside.

When he entered you it felt perfect, as if this was how it was supposed to be. You wrapped your legs around his hips as he began to move them. It had been some time since the last time you had sex, that was not with toys, and you suddenly felt self conscious, unsure. He stopped.

“You okay? You’re a bit cramped up.”

His thumb brushed over your cheek.

“It’s been a while…”

You did not know what else to say and hoped he would understand.

“Do you still want to continue?”

If you were honest you were not sure.

“Maybe you can convince me?”

“Okay.”

You wondered why his voice was so soft. It was almost as if he was talking to someone he loved.

He kissed you again, deeply. His hips had moved a bit away and after a moment you knew why. He needed the space for his hand to slip between you two and rub your clit. Whatever reservations you had had were blown away by his tongue in your mouth and his fingers between your legs. With the rising tension, the fact he was still inside you, it felt good. You wanted him to move and buckled your hips against him. The moan that followed made you want to move more to hear it again. Junhee’s voice had always been pleasant, but his moans were maddening. You pressed against him for more friction and he met your movements. Without either of you truly being in control the pace quickened.

He pulled his mouth off yours as he got closer. His eyes clamped shut as he drove into you hard and faster than before. You gasped when his hand found your clit again and rubbed it haphazardly. His breathy moans pushed you more towards the edge. They were beautiful to your ears and you could not get enough.

“Fuck.”

A wave of bliss hit you and your whole body tensed before going limp.

After the initial encounter with Junhee, surprisingly, others had followed. You had been sure the amazing sex would be a one time thing but the next week he had swung by again. Quite a few more meetings had happened after you got the message that you could ask him too. Another thing that had established itself was that despite his very forward behavior the first time Junhee preferred when you were in charge. He loved it when you rode him and pulled his hair. One time he asked you to continue riding him after he had already come. It had been scary and heartbreaking at first to see tears running down his face, but he told you not to stop. Afterwards he was the happiest you had ever seen him.

“You’re the best.” He had cooned as he snuggled up against you.

Splash.

To be continued soon :3

A/N: This got unnecessarily emotional??

[kominum]

rewatching old sailor moon and thought of like... disgruntled tuxedo mask!corpse but with unrequited love because i’m a glutton for angst

wc: ~2.2k 

warnings: death of a minor character, implicit knowledge of sailor moon lore, modern twist, unedited

please send in ideas you might have that i could write short blurbs for! this was honestly fun to write. 

It’s a scratch he can’t itch. It’s what has him waking up in cold sweats, confused and moderately annoyed that his hard-earned sleep has been so rudely interrupted. He hates the cape, he hates the itchy suit, he abhors the top hat – and the only things he doesn’t really hate are his baton and endless supply of darkened roses.

The first time he transformed, he was half-asleep and struggling to understand why he was speeding down the highway and parking two blocks away from some random back alley. His pain was relatively dulled, which was surprising, and his body suddenly possessed a world of fighting skills that felt foreign yet familiar. All he could recognize was a slightly disheveled woman cursing and just trying her best against some odd form of demon spawn, and before he knew it, he’d thrown down a dark purple rose and engaged in combat. Once said woman found an opening, she took off her headband/tiara, performed a throw that would put professional frisbee players to shame, and the monster disintegrated into dust.

“Jesus Christ,” he panted, body hunched over and hands on his knees. “What the fuck was that?”

“More like who the fuck are you?”

“Fuck if I know,” he muttered and dusted himself off.  

“What’s with your get-up anyways?” She failed to hide her snickering. “You’re 3 decades behind.”

“Do I look like I want to fight in a suit? Plus, you’re fighting in some rendition of a schoolgirl uniform.” Her black thigh-high boots were killer, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction.

“You should’ve seen what it was before, but I was able to make some changes. Good heads-up for you and—”

“Sailor Moon, are you okay?!”

Oh. So she’s got a talking cat, too. What in fresh hell was going on? Did he take something? But also—“Your name is Sailor Moon?”

“We’re working on the name change,” she grumbled, bending down to let said feline jump up her arm and settle on her shoulder. “Anyways, uh…thanks. I was kind of in a bind, but I’m usually not I swear. Good timing, I guess?”

“If that’s what you wanna call it.” But she was already in the wind, hopping from roof to roof with no inhibitions, and left him completely dumbfounded.

His silly attire dissolved back into his previous clothing as he ambled back towards his car, thought not exactly at his own will. But he shrugged, slid into the car seat, and dialed the only person he could think of who would readily pick up at this ungodly hour of…2:37AM. That was just the start, and he can’t tell if things went downhill from there.

-

He should backtrack.

He met you almost two years ago at a hospital.

You had been waiting anxiously for your boyfriend to come out of surgery after being in a bad car accident, biting your nails, occasionally pacing back and forth, smoothing your hands worriedly against your jeans, and gnawing your bottom lip to death. It was midday, sometime after lunch, and he’d come in for some routine checkup he can’t remember what for now, and sat a few seats away from you in the tiny hospital coffee shop. He’s no therapist or expert, but he highly doubted that any caffeine would alleviate your anxiety. Yet you sat there with two to-go cups and a granola bar wrapper, and something told him to stick around for now.

He’s never been one for a lot of small talk, but you looked to be about his age and no one else was with you. Tragedy tasted most bitter when alone, and some force of the universe told him to at least say something, anything. So he stuffed his hands into his hoodie and shuffled awkwardly to your table, tentatively asking a, “Hey, uh…is everything okay?”

You’d looked up at him with wild eyes on the verge of tears, heart battering against your chest, and the only intelligible thing that left your mouth was a “Huh?”

And he’d casted a gentle grin, eyes laced with a mixture of pity and concern, and asked again his first question. “My boyfriend’s in surgery. He got in a bad accident. There’s um…roughly two hours left, I think.”

“And you thought coffee would make it better?” He jutted his chin towards your large cups.

“Hot chocolate,” you chuckled. “I’m not keen on torturing myself like that, not now at least.”

“Well, I’ve got an appointment soon but I should be done before his surgery’s over…want me to come check up on you?”

Dumbfounded was the best way to describe your expression, and he was so close to retracting his offer before you gave him one of the most thankful smiles he’d seen in many years. “I’d really appreciate that.”

He nodded. “Sounds good then. Give me a sec.”

At the counter, he paid for another cup of hot chocolate and added in a chocolate chip cookie for good measure before bringing it back to you. “I hear chocolate helps.”

“Thank you, again. Go, don’t want to make you late.”

But an hour and a half later in the waiting area outside surgery, the doctor came out with a solemn expression, and you all but collapsed into the plastic chairs, tears leaking like waterfalls from your eyes. Part of him wanted to bail and go because there wasn’t much he could do, but it wouldn’t be right to leave you to drive home now. He wanted to make sure that you were calmed down, all cried out, and breathing properly so you could at least operate a vehicle safely.

The same unknown force had him offering you his number in case you needed anyone to talk to, yet the conversation sat empty for weeks until curiosity and guilt ate at him. He tapped out a message, deleting it, then another one, more deleting, before he settled on a plain, “It’s the guy from the hospital. I know it’s been a while but…how are you?”

Your reply was almost instantaneous, to which he worried if he’d accidentally woken you up at 4:13AM. First, it’s a casual, “hey, thanks for checking up on me! I’m doing okay,” but he knew better. And the other shoe dropped in the form of a simple, “I miss him.”

It’s a quiet, heartwarming friendship. You know nothing specific about him – he’s incredibly vague on any identifying information. Hell, you’d be willing to bet that the name at the hospital was a fake one. Nevertheless, he’s one of your closest friends. You know he mainly works online, has a lot of trouble sleeping, is chronically ill and has a number of medical conditions, his general disposition and feelings on things, but overall, just wonderfully easy to talk to.

Yet something just feels wrong about falling in love with him. It’s a horrid combination of guilt and disbelief. Are you rebounding? Are you subconsciously searching for your dead ex-boyfriend? Are you so desperate for romantic connections that you’ve twisted yourself into believing you love a man that you’ve seen fewer times than the number of fingers you have?

You come to peace with it when his custom ringtone chimes softly on your nightstand in the middle of the night. Rain or shine, stars or none, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him. Nothing has ever woken you up so quickly, not even alarms on interview days. “Hello?”

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Kind of, but it’s fine. What’s up? Wait,” you interrupt yourself and listen carefully to your speaker. “Are you…driving?”

“…yeah.”

“Should I ask from or to where?”

“I…honestly don’t know. Something felt off, felt like I had to get out of my place and just fucking do something. So uh, I drove somewhere and just started driving back home.”

You curl up under your sheets on your side and plug your earbuds into the phone. “Well, did it get rid of whatever you were feeling?”

“I think so? Honestly couldn’t fucking tell you. Still really bizarre to me.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you murmur. “Well, feel free to call me whenever you feel like that again.”

“I don’t wanna fuck up your sleep schedule though. Feel like it’ll happen more often than I’d like.”

“How about this – if I don’t pick up, it’ll just be my nice way of saying ‘fuck off, too busy sleeping right now’?”

A soft, deep chuckle warms your chest and cheeks. “Sounds good. So how’ve you been?”

“Well, you know…”

It’s the same night that you think you might have a chance at love again. You fall asleep with his voice weaving stories and tales in your ears and wake up to a message that says, “Wow, didn’t know I was so fucking boring that it made you snore so loud.” The hope that creeps through your veins is dangerous and thrums urgently whenever you get a call or message from him.

And as bright as a star, it all comes crashing down in a firey blaze.

You crash into a girl as mysterious and serenely beautiful as the moon with a talking black cat one afternoon. She exudes a gorgeous amount of confidence in her stance as she protects you from a creature that looks like it’s out of a horror video game, and you can only stare in awe. The cat from before yells instructions at you, throwing what looks like a pen with a red cap on it and you blindly follow them. Your subsequent red heels feel incredibly comfortable and you can’t remember the last time you wore a skirt – but there’s no time to ponder as you push the girl you were admiring out of harm’s way and somehow manage to direct fire at them from your fingertips.

The monster burns and screams in agony before getting hit with what looks like a glowing frisbee. Your savior wipes the dust off her outfit before extending a hand out to you, “Welcome to the club, Sailor Mars.”

Say what now?

“There’s gotta be a better name than that,” is the first thing you say as you get pulled up. She throws her head back and lets out a charmingly obnoxious laugh. “We’ll work on changing it. I can tell we’re gonna be good friends.”

“Her name ended up being a rip-off of my name,” the cat quips and receives a scowl from the supposed plagiarizer. “I’m Luna, and this is Sailor Moon, or Lunaria she says.”

“You gotta admit, that’s cutting it a little close,” you agree and Lunaria flips the bird. “How the fuck am I going to change Sailor Mars? Also, can I do anything about this outfit?”

“We can go shopping tomorrow for sure. Luna and I can fill you on everything and – oh, before I forget, there’s a guy—”

“So it looks like you don’t need my help?”

You freeze in your steps, startled by the familiar baritone approaching you two. He was involved in all this?

“I told you, I don’t need your help—”

“Is she new?”

“Yeah, which means, we really don’t need your help. She’s got actual fire power. Literal fire.”

“That’s pretty fucking cool,” he accepts. “Good to meet you.”

You spot a set of veiny fingers that appears in your peripheral and you tentatively turn in his direction, hoping that your hair will obstruct your face as much as possible. “Same,” your throat manages to squeak out as his warm hand engulfs yours in a firm handshake.

“Get out of here, Corpse,” Lunaria chides and lets go of you to push a finger to his chest.

“I’m only here because you fucking needed saving. Now you’ve got another person dragged in.”

“I told you, I’m not some fucking damsel in distress,” she hisses. The mirth in his visible eye only causes the infuriation to grow and swirl more vigorously in her gut.

You watch the exchange from the sidelines as Corpse’s teasing only increases and provokes Lunaria further, disheartened that you’ve never heard him laugh so much in one exchange before. Dread from deep within your veins begins to freeze around your heart, something so set and undeniable that causes your brain to realize that falling in love with him was a mistake. It was the kind of mistake that would strike you with pain for years and the intense foreshadowing has you spinning on your heel and bounding through an alleyway. Your outfit shifts back to what you’d been wearing before, the characteristic weight of your phone in your back pocket seeming heavier than ever.

You call him that night, holding in a deep breath when the dial tone breaks midway. A rustle, a breath, and then, “Hey what’s up?”

Oh god, you scream to yourself as your heart shatters at the bottom of your chest. His voice, again, cannot be misconstrued as anyone else’s – the inflection, the tone, the volume, everything belonged to him.

And the universe told you then and there that he, undoubtedly, belonged to her.

[hanadolphieron]

heejin as a girlfriend~12/3

how you met;

the two of you met while in the airport

you had been sitting at the gate for an hour and a half, being a cautious person and not wanting to be late for your flight (your parents had also hounded you about being there two hours early, you barely escaped their wrath)

while you settled there, the gate started to fill up rapidly, considering this was a flight to L.A. and everyone and their dog wanted to go

as the seats gradually filled up, nobody had sat next to you

you weren’t offended at all, i mean no one wants to sit next a stranger if they don’t have to

however, at some point, the only spot left was the one next to you

and here comes a drop-dead gorgeous woman

she set her bag down, unbothered your presence and proceeded to whip out her phone and continue on with her life, not even sparing you a second glance

you were a little bit taken a back at this, she had such a whirlwind-like energy but seemed so calm and chill

you stared at your phone, zoning out and not really reading the posts you were scrolling through, thinking about this, when she said, mainly to herself,

“i don’t have my passport”

glancing over at her, she catches your eye

great, you think, now you have to say something

“do you know where it is?” you ask her, “how did you get through security?”

“it must have fell,” she tells you, a half-terrified look on her face, “on the other side of the airport, where security is.”

“well, we better get moving then,” you tell her, already getting up

“watch our bags,” you command the person on the other side of you, and break into a run

heejin follows, racing you, and you both go sprinting down to the terminal

the basics;

you wake up to her deep, sleepy voice every morning, and it murders you before you can even get out of bed

but that’s okay, because she doesn’t want you to leave her side anyways, and will physically hold you down so you can cuddle each other, fluffy blankets, and pillows

you have a handshake of course

uses it to cheer you up or as a way to show off your amazing relationship

fights never last that long, both of you would start to miss each other and would make up fast

heejin finds it easy to see you side of the situation, and you hers

cuddles before you go to sleep is a must

heejin will cling onto you until one of you starts to perspire and die under the warmth of the other on top of them

prank wars never end well, both of you take it too far

but it makes for a good story to tell later

aesthetic dates to the max

time spent with her fees so beautiful and perfect

you understand each other perfectly, and conversations are effortless and comforting

she wants it to be a “bonding moment”

you know, all that scorpio venus stoof

wants to build a connection slowly and become your special person

heejin comes to any event you participate in to support you

as long as you watch her perform so she can show off and impress you :)

she puts a heck ton of effort into your relationship

and does her best to make you happy

tends to be self-sacrificing because libra sun/scorpio venus, so you’ll have to watch out for that

loves inside jokes, they make her so happy

having special connections with people is so stimulating for heejin, building relationship is so !!!

will probably want to settle down early, once she’s attached to someone she’s going to be loyal for the rest of her life unless something huge happens

is so overprotective it’s funny

definitely sensitive to any sort of jealousy or envy, so make sure to tell her how much you love her multiple times a day or she can feel not exactly insecure, but a seed of doubt weeds its way into her mind and she can perceive situations the wrong way

her gut feelings are almost always right though, so if she gets bad vibes from someone you hang out with, i recommend listening to her

wants to influence you

definitely possessive, will call you hers a lot

melts if you pick up any of her habits or start listening to her favorite songs

boyfriend material

headcannons;

back to the airport fiasco...

you and heejin luckily did not get stopped by any boomers or security officials on your way through the airport

you were sprinting through the terminal when suddenly, “CHILI”S!” 

heejin screamed out the restaurant and nyoomed in its general direction, apparently remembering the last place she had been before losing her passport

she attacked the booth she’d sat at (luckily no one was there)

you acted as pep talk personified, cheering her on as she smacked around the seats, grabbed her passport, manhandled it out of the booth, and escaped the stares of the rest of chili’s customers while fleeing the store

going through the security line again was frustrating, but you made it to the terminal just in time for your flight

you and heejin managed to snatch two seats together just in time, and began to chat about your lives and plans for the trip, which you decided would be a good place to hang out and get to know each other better

after you landed, you went to your respective hotels, and settled down before going to a roller-skating rink together

a little rest to squeal to yourself over heejin was just what you needed

but after a while, heejin texted you to let you know she was on her way to pick you up to head to the rink

you walked to the rink together, oohing and ahhing over the sights in L.A.

getting matching skates was a must- both of you wore white ones with rainbow wheels (why do i always see the word wheels and go hweels)

of course, heejin was good at skating, what can’t she do

you were okay as well

neither of you fell to much, just a few screams and thunks here and there

but heejin caught you bridal style every time, even if it meant she plummeted to the floor with you

your pride was the only thing that was hurt (as well as your HEART because HEEJIN was CRUSHING it)

at one point you tried to catch her when she stumbled, but she grabbed onto you too forcefully and you ended up sprawled across her lap as she sat criss-cross on the floor, laughing at you

somehow this wasn’t awkward, just majorly heart-fluttering and made you want to scream

petnames;

buffalo-

used by you

for some reason, heejin’s deep voice always reminds you of the enormous furry creatures that roam the great plains of america

neither of you understood why

heejin was a little offended when you first called her this

but over time, it became normal, and she didn’t mind until you referred to her as buffalo in the middle of the grocery store and the clerk looked at you incredulously

but oh well, she loves you, and you love her, so who cares?

babe-

used by her

prove me wrong i dare you heejin would call her s/o babe this is the way

this term of endearment comes out naturally for heejin

she was a little embarrassed when she first called you babe, as it just flew out of her mouth without heejin even thinking about it

but she went with it and tried to play it off as casual (cue fboy heejin) (you lost babygirl) (i’ll stop now)

[wholesomemendes]

Your Teddy Bear

Mendes Triplet Au (Peter Mendes)

Summary: No one could’ve guessed you would have ended up with Peter, but the two of you give each other a love neither of you ever thought you’d be lucky enough to experience. 

Author’s Note: This is my first time writing with the Mendes Triplet concept by @thotmendes and I’m honestly so excited about it. Also, shout out to @fallinallincurls for talking concepts with me the other night that inspired me to write this and @princecharmingmendes for telling me too write it along with a ton of other people that got me to finish this (such as @itrocksmysocks​ who sent me a bunch of Peter pictures that were absolutely adorable). So I hope you guys enjoy this! It’s literally 4.6k of just pure fluff and more fluff after that. As always please tell me what you think!

Warnings: Mild Swearing (like literally only one or two words)

No one knew how Peter Mendes ended up with you. Hell, Peter didn’t even know how he ended up with someone like you, but somehow almost every night he fell asleep with his head on your chest, your hands brushing through his mess of fluffy curls. You commanded the room any time you walked in it, confidence radiating off you in every aspect as you strode past everyone with your shoulders pushed back and chin held high. Known to be the life of the party, you were the one people could rely on to flirt your way past the guy at the liquor store to bring the best booze to all of the frat parties, and your name was well ingrained into the minds of almost every student at your wide campus. 

Peter, on the other hand, was only known by a handful of students and for a completely different set of reasons. Typically when one thought of Peter they first thought of Raul, the oldest of the Mendes triplets that was known for partying and hooking up with girls, or Shawn, the captain of the hockey team that could easily get any girl he wanted just by looking them in the eyes and serenading them with his singing and guitar. If by some miracle they knew Peter for another reason, it’d probably be because he happened to be one of the smartest students in every single one of his classes and often was asked for tutoring or help with homework. When you thought of Peter Mendes you thought of the smart Mendes, which was exactly why it just didn’t seem right that the two of you were together.

It wasn’t like you were unintelligent by any means, you got As and Bs in all of your classes, but you weren’t even close to the level of Peter’s smarts. Most students would say Raul would be your type, you both had dominating, cocky almost personalities on the outside and loved to party, a seemingly perfect fit. Or even Shawn, who had a smooth, laid back persona would be a great match for you if he didn’t already have a girlfriend to love. 

But you knew how you ended up with Peter. It was just 6 months ago when that curly headed boy walked into your life, flipping it completely upside down in the best way possible. You remember it clear as day; you had just gone into the kitchen of the frat house to get another drink when you spotted a cuddly giant leaning against the counter looking completely out of place, swirling his drink inside of his solo cup. You excused yourself, reaching behind him to grab some pop causing him to look at you with wide eyes, apologizing profusely for being in your way. Giggling at his reaction you reassured the startled boy that there was nothing to worry about, before properly introducing yourself.

“I’m Y/n by the way.”

“I know,” he responded, cheeks heating up after realizing what he had said. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t completely infatuated by you, how could he not be? You were absolutely gorgeous and the definition of perfection in his eyes, and something about your mysterious aura left him wanting to know everything about you. Yet here he was, completely embarrassing himself in front of the girl he was secretly crushing on. “I’m sorry that was so weird, um, I’m Peter,” he stuck his hand out for you to shake it, a laugh escaping your lips as you took it firmly in your own. His heart was beating out of his chest at the fact that not only were you engaging in a conversation with him, but you had just shaken his hand, which he was now realizing was not a common thing for teenagers to do and was probably screwing up any chance he had of getting to know you.

“So what’s in the cup?” you asked, motioning to the drink that was pretty much still filled to the brim, a clear sign that its contents were not appealing to him.

“Oh, um, it’s beer, but I’m not really that much of a drinker, especially in large crowds.” His cheeks burned bright red under your stare and he wondered how much deeper of a hole he was going to dig himself into with all of this information he was giving out. Surely someone like you would find him boring soon, it was only a matter of time before you left him to talk to someone hotter and much more interesting. 

But to his surprise you moved closer, leaning against the counter next to him as you brought your cup to your lips. “Want to know a secret?” you whispered, Peter nodding frantically like a little boy about to get a new toy, “I’m not that into drinking either. I only really do it at parties and even then I usually keep it to a minimum. I’ve been here for three hours and all I’ve had is half a white claws I ended up giving to my friend. This is Pepsi.” You took another sip from your cup, watching as his jaw dropped at the information causing a smirk to form on your face, “You know I’ve never actually told anyone that, but I have a feeling you’re not gonna go around telling everyone what I tell you.”

“No, no, I won't, I promise.”

“Good, now what do you say we find somewhere quieter to get away from all of this. I’ve had a long day and I have a feeling you love parties just as much as you love drinking.” Peter thought he had never smiled so wide as you took his hand and pulled him into an empty room, one you just happened to know wouldn’t be used tonight. The two of you talked for hours, about how he was dragged there and then abandoned by his two identical brothers, to the research he was doing for astronomy class. You listened intently to everything he said, even adding some of your own input about topics he never thought you would be interested in, and he truly thought in that moment that he had never felt more seen, more appreciated and thought of as someone other than the unknown Mendes brother. You parted ways when it got too late for the both of you, exchanging numbers with a promise to see the other again soon, Peter’s heart racing at the thought of seeing you once more. You never told him, but he had your heart that first night you met him, finally having someone who wanted to know more about you than how to get in your pants. 

So even though it shocked the entire school to see Peter’s arm wrapped around your shoulders two weeks later, the two of you felt perfectly content and at peace with one another, your personalities balancing each other out, fitting in like the missing pieces to your own individual puzzles. If you ever had a bad day, you knew that the moment you saw your cuddly giant of a boyfriend looking as comfy as ever in his softest sweatshirts, glasses adorning his beautiful face, your mood would instantly be lightened and everything would be alright. And that’s exactly what you needed right now, a cuddly Peter to turn your day around. 

So there you were, headed to the triplets apartment off campus to see your man. Raul, Peter, and Shawn had all bought a four-bedroom apartment only a couple minutes off campus after their sophomore year, and you were around so much that they trusted you with the code and your very own key. You fit right in with the boys easily; you had seen Raul and Shawn at a couple parties before you met Peter, but you never spoke more than a few words to one another. Now that you were dating Peter though, you were practically treated as their sister, blending right into the dynamics of their tight knit family. If there was one thing the Mendes brothers were, it was close and you never quite understood how deep their connections were with one another until you were around them so much. Peter was never known to be a player, always wanting to just be in a serious relationship, so it had been years since he had brought a girl home around his brothers. For that very reason, Shawn and Raul were extremely protective over him, but you easily passed the test they gave you right off the bat. They loved you, not to mention they could tell that Peter was head over heels for you long before he told you 3 months into your relationship. He had been laying on your chest, breathing starting to become heavy as you lured him to sleep with your head massages. 

“I love you,” he mumbled into your shirt almost incoherently, an innocent slip of the tongue in his sleepy state. You froze, hand pausing in his hair for a second as he whined from the lack of your touch, not even processing what he just said. You hadn’t ever told one of your boyfriends that you loved them, the thought always seeming too permanent and constricting. But Peter was different and you knew that from the start. He made you feel things that you worried in the dead of night you might never experience and even though it was early in your relationship, Peter felt emotions so deeply and openly that your heart was completely owned by him.

“I love you too, Pete.” He hummed in confusion at your words, suddenly a lot more awake as he sat up to look you in the eyes.

“What?”

“You told me you loved me and I said I love you too.”

“You do?” he asked, eyes wide, happy tears prickling in the corners of them.

“I don’t know how I couldn’t bubs,” and with that he surged forward, connecting your lips to his with as much passion as he could possibly muster. 

After he woke up, Peter immediately told his brothers about the night’s events, the two of them filled with joy that someone could make their brother as happy as he was. A month later he gave his virginity to you and the praise (and teasing) he got from his brothers was never ending. You weren’t forgotten either for later that day when you showed up, Shawn immediately began wiggling his eyebrows at you as Raul started cracking sexual jokes, Peter looking sheepish in the background. You had rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance, though you could never be truly mad at Peter for sharing your relationship with his brothers. You learned very quickly that there was little to no privacy with the three of them and anything you did was fair game in their conversations. You didn’t mind, you loved how close they were, not to mention how supportive they were of one another, and you definitely didn’t complain when you had two extremely buff guys protecting you from drunk creeps at parties that didn’t seem to grasp the concept that you were in a relationship.

But being close to the brothers also meant they were used to your random appearances when you typically showed up unannounced even to Peter, who never complained about getting to spend more time with you. Which happened to be the case today, when you stormed in, muttering a quick hello to Raul who was spread out on the couch as you headed towards Peter’s room.

“Peter?” you asked, knocking twice before entering at his request, not even greeting him and instead landing face down on his mattress with a huff. 

Your boyfriend closed his laptop, saving his work and sitting up to give you his full attention, running his fingers over your back, “What’s wrong, angel?”

“She’s such a bitch!” you complained, rolling over onto your back to stare at the ceiling.

“Who?” This is how it usually went if you were having a bad day, he’d ask you generic questions, allowing you to let out all of your pent up frustration until you were ready to be cuddled for the rest of the night.

“Marissa! You won’t believe this. This guy comes up to me after class today and tries to give me his number and I’m obviously like no, sorry, I’ve already got the greatest man in the world, I don’t have any interest or need for anyone else. But guess what?!”

It didn’t even phase Peter at this point that a guy tried to get your number, it happened so often that he was partially immune to the doubts and jealousy that came with it. In the beginning it was hard for him, constantly feeling like he wasn’t enough and didn’t deserve you, but you proved to him time after time again that you were completely gone for him and that he was more than you could ever dream of. And he would never, ever question your loyalty to him, if there was one thing you weren’t it was a cheater. “What?”

“Turns out this dude had a girlfriend, Marissa, and so of course she was pissed that he was trying to get my number, which is understandable. But guess who she blames it on?”

“You?”

“Me! Like are you KIDDING me?! I’m not the one with loyalty issues here, sweetie, yet here you are accusing me of trying to get with your man. Why would I even want his number? Even if I was a cheater, which ugh I want to throw up just thinking about it, you’re a hundred times hotter and better than him in every way so it doesn’t make sense. So no, it wasn’t me, sorry your boyfriend’s a manwhore, Marissa.”  A chuckle escaped Peter’s lips, head tilting back against the headboard as he laughed. You turned your head at the beautiful sound, meeting his eyes a few seconds later for the first time that night. And just like that. Mood completely better. The sight of him, hair a fluffy mess basically asking to be played with, adorable glasses being pushed up by the scrunch in his nose, and comfy pink sweatshirt on his frame making him look as soft as ever. 

“Hi bubs.”

 Peter smiled his loving smile he reserved for you, laughing to himself at how quick your mood could change around him, “Hi angel. Feeling better?”

You nodded, crawling up the bed into his open arms, sliding underneath the covers next to him as you rested your head on his chest, “I love you.”

“I love you so much.” He adjusted in the bed to better lay down with you laying on top of him, stroking your hair before placing gentle kisses on the top of your head, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, bubs,” you snuggled further into his chest, cheek squishing against the fabric of his sweatshirt, “Just wanna cuddle you all night long.”

“I can do that,” Peter whispered, voice soft against your ear, “You doing anything for the rest of the night? I heard Raul saying there’s a huge frat party he’s going to later.”

“Yeah I heard about that,” you admitted, “But I don’t think I’m gonna go. Rather just lay here with you. If you want to, that is.”

Peter’s heart swelled three sizes at your words, nodding his head as he traced I love you onto your back like he always did when he was given the chance. It was true that ever since you started dating Peter you weren’t found at parties as often as you used to be. You still enjoyed going to them, you even managed to bring Peter to a couple of them and he found them much more enjoyable with you by his side, but more often you found yourself just wanting to stay in with your man rather than being surrounded by a bunch of people you hardly knew. “I’d love that,” he spoke against your ear, still leaving butterfly kisses in your hair, “Why don’t we have a movie night? I bought your favorite cookie dough, I could go pop them in the oven if you wanted.”

Your head perked up at his words, a smile gracing your face, “Mrs. Field’s Chocolate Chip?”

“Mhm,” he hummed in response, a squeal leaving your mouth as you jumped off the bed pulling him with you.

“Come on, come on, cookies, Pete!” He laughed, grabbing your hand in his and letting you drag him to the kitchen. He loved how different you were with him, how you were so carefree and loving compared to the confident, I don’t care vibe you gave off to everyone. It was like a secret only he got to see and as long as you kept showing it to him, he was gonna soak in every second of it. 

Upon arriving in the kitchen, you jumped to sit onto the counter while Peter rummaged through the fridge in search of the mouth-watering cookie dough. You leaned over to wash your hands in the sink next to him before rolling the dough into large balls to get the biggest cookies possible. The first time you made cookies with Peter he was shocked at how much dough you were rolling for one cookie, claiming that they weren’t going to turn out well if they weren’t perfectly symmetrical to the suggested sizing on the side of the packaging. But once he tasted the big cookies he had no complaints, and neither did the rest of the triplets. Once the package was finished and you had two sheets of cookies in the oven, you watched as Peter set the timer on the oven, little tongue sticking out in concentration.

“Come here, big guy,” you motioned him closer to you, wrapping your legs around his waist once he stood in the middle of them, hands on your thighs. You placed your hands on his shoulders, one hand making its way to play with the curls on the back of his neck. He stared up at you with doe like eyes, hands frozen on your thighs no matter how much he wanted to move them. Even if you had been dating for over half a year now, Peter was still shy and nervous about touching you, so even having him put his hands there in the first place without you telling him it was ok was a big deal. “You can move your hands if you want,” you whispered, eyes holding his soft gaze, feeling his thumbs start to slowly rub circles against the fabric of your jeans, “You’re so handsome, did you know that?”

He blushed at your words, head ducking down to look at the ground, “‘M not handsome, you just have to say that cause I’m your boyfriend.” You knew Peter always had trouble with having self confidence, years of believing that his brothers were better than him really took a toll on his heart. But even if he was a part of three identical triplets, every time you looked at him all you saw was the cutest, most handsome man alive. Maybe he didn’t have endless tattoos like Raul, or piercings like Shawn, but he was Peter, your Peter, and you would do anything to convince him that he was more than enough for anyone, especially himself. 

“Pete, look at me.” You lifted his chin up with your finger, other hand smoothing along his shoulder, “I would never tell you something that wasn’t true. I don’t tell you you’re handsome because I feel I have some weird requirement as your girlfriend to do so, I do it because every time I look at you I get butterflies in my stomach over how gorgeous you are. No one has ever made me feel like you do, bubs, and I just wish you could see what I see when I look at you.” With that you brought his lips to yours, tasting the sweet vanilla of his chapstick as he moved in sync with you. You squeezed your legs tighter around him, one hand deep in his unruly curls as you pulled him closer to you, his hands moving up to find purchase on your hips. He squeezed your hips lightly three times, a silent I love you as you kissed, causing a smile to form on your face at the soft boy in your arms. 

“You better not be fucking over there!” Raul’s voice tore through the moment, the two of you breaking away from each other in order to turn around towards the couch where he was staring back at you with eyebrows raised. You rolled your eyes at his antics, turning around to find Peter with red stained cheeks and bashful eyes before calling back to the older triplet, “Don’t worry, Raul, we’re not stealing your job!”

A sincere laugh escaped Raul’s lips as you lightly pushed your boyfriend away so you could hop off the counter, earning a small whine from him in response, “Come on, bubs, let’s check on these cookies.” A couple minutes later you had a fresh batch of cookies sitting on top of the oven, the smell filling the entire apartment quick enough to have Raul next to the two of you in minutes with an already burnt tongue because he refused to wait for them to cool down. Just as you and Peter had bit into your first cookie, Shawn had come stumbling into the house with his hockey gear, a wide smile on his face, “Do I smell cookies?”

“Only the best. Want one?” you asked, handing him the plate, while Raul complained from next to you that he was just about to grab another.

“Is that even a question?” he asked, practically moaning when the taste hit his mouth, “And this is why I love having you around.”

“You say that like I’m the one that buys and makes the cookies. Peter’s the one that does all the work.”

“Yeah, but Peter only makes them for you. We only had oven baked cookies once or twice a year before you came.”

“Hey! I make dinner for you guys almost every night,” Peter countered, a slight furrow to his brows, “Not my fault the both of you can’t make your way around the kitchen without burning it.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Raul said, snatching one last cookie before heading off to his room. 

“Come on, bubs,” you ushered your boyfriend forward, grabbing his hand as he picked up the plate of cookies, “Let’s go watch Netflix.”

“But I only got one cookie!” Shawn whined from behind the two of you.

“You can get them once we’re done,” you called out before shutting Peter’s door, “if there’s any left.” Peter laughed from behind you, loving the relationship you had with his brothers. Honestly, he didn’t know what he would do if you didn’t get along with them, his brothers were his world and their opinion mattered to him more than anyone else’s. But now that you were so prominently in his life, he could easily say that your opinion was on that same level, if not higher than that of his brothers. 

“Hey angel?” he asked nervously, playing with the strings on the hood of his sweatshirt.

“Yeah, bubs?”

“Are you doing anything tomorrow morning?”

“I don’t think so, why?”

“Do you maybe want to stay the night?” You had stayed the night a handful of times, probably more than you should for the length of your relationship, and everytime the two of you woke up with the most content smiles on your faces, wanting nothing more than to just stay that way for the rest of the day.

“Of course, Pete, as long as I get to steal one of your sweatshirts to sleep in,” you told him, walking over to him and replacing his hands with yours on his hoodie strings. His hands found their way to your hips, rubbing in gentle circles to calm the racing heart he always had around you. 

“I’ll give you all of my sweatshirts, you look better in them anyways.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, giving him a soft kiss, “I’ve never met a man that looks more cuddly in a sweatshirt than you do. You’re my teddy bear, bubs.” A wide smile formed on Peter’s face and he leaned in to kiss your lips one more time before he was opening the drawer to his sweatshirts. He handed you the one he knew was always your favorite, grabbing his own set of flannel pants and a shirt to sleep in. He turned around to let you change in privacy while he did the same, even though the two of you had seen each other in much more intimate situations prior to this. No matter how many times you told him he didn’t have to turn around, he always claimed he just wanted to respect you and didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable in any way, shape, or form. 

“All done, bubs, come cuddle.” You opened your arms to him from where you were laying in his bed and a large smile found its way to his face as he launched himself into your arms. Giggling at your adorable boyfriend, you adjusted so he could lay under the covers with his arms wrapped around your body. You turned the tv on, scrolling through random romcoms on Netflix while Peter munched on a cookie beside you. One of the things you loved about Peter was how much he loved romcoms, always falling in love with the romantic content as much as you. 

Halfway through the movie and you swore the two of you had eaten enough cookies to keep you full for a week, while saving one for Shawn of course. Somewhere in the midst of things, Peter’s head found its way to its beloved spot on your chest and your fingers immediately began massaging through the curls on his head. “You smell different, Pete. Did you change shampoo or cologne or something?” You couldn’t put your finger on it, but the more kisses you left on his curls, the more you felt something was different. He dug his head into your (his) sweatshirt, mumbling something incoherent while trying to hide his rosy red cheeks. “What are you trying to say? I can’t hear you while you’re eating my sweatshirt,” you teased, watching as his red face lifted up to meet yours.

“It’s yours,” he mumbled again, shoving his face back into your chest. You leaned down again, taking a sniff of his hair and finding it to resemble your typical scent right away.

“Why are you using my shampoo, bubs?”

He sighed, turning his head so you could hear him better, “Cause you left one of your bottles here last time you used it and I don’t know, just missed you a lot and you always smell so good.”

“Oh yeah, what do I smell like?”

“Home.” He answered with such sincerity that you knew this was something he had thought about for a long time. Your heart burst, love pouring out of you in such ways that you almost felt like crying happy tears right there on the spot.

“I, um, I have a candle that I keep next to my bed because I think it smells like your cologne. And it calms me down when I’ve had a bad day and I can’t come see you,” you confessed, hands coming back to his hair. 

“You can always come see me, angel. Love having you around.”

You smiled to yourself when you heard his speech becoming more slurred, sleep overcoming him, “I love you, Pete.”

“I love you too, angel. My beautiful, beautiful angel.” He left feather-like kisses over your sweatshirt-clad chest, snuggling deeper into your warmth as his breathing began to even out. You reached over to turn off the tv, feeling safer than you’ve ever felt with your big, cuddly teddy bear in your arms.

[rhysismydaddy]

Naughty Neighbors pt. 3 (Elriel)

I think I might’ve actually died writing the first part of this not going to lie. Also don’t come for me changing the verb tense I’m well aware lol 

Coming next week...

“I’m not taking you to bed while you belong to another man, Elain.”

“I don’t belong to anyone.”

“Maybe not your body,” he agrees, placing a wide hand on her chest, right above her heart. “But I want this to be mine. And you’re going to give it to me.”

______________________________________________________________

~Elain~

It’s Saturday night, the first day of what’s shaping up to be a truly unremarkable weekend for Elain. Feyre’s art show’s tomorrow, but that’s the most exciting thing she has planned. 

She can’t remember the last time she’d been excited about something even was, actually. 

Pushing that uncomfortable thought away, she settles further in the bath and sighs. Desperate for entertainment, she tries to focus on the pages of the book in front of her, but her brain won’t cooperate. 

After another ten minutes, she resigns herself to an early night and gets out of the tub, slipping into one of her robes. 

It’s only eleven, but she gets in bed, forgotten book on her night table. Closing her eyes proves she is actually a little tired, because she starts to relax and drift off to sleep. 

But then she hears it.

A low groan sounds through the wall between her apartment and her neighbor’s, and her eyes go wide. She hears two people talk, then a feminine laugh. Which turns into a loud moan a second later.

Oh. My. Gods.

There’s a thud, then sexy, masculine laughter meets her ears.

Some shuffling sounds make Elain bury her head under her pillow,, the blush on her cheeks hot enough to melt the sheets away. This is so horrible.

But no amount of pillows could stop her from hearing what happens next.

The feminine moaning gets louder, then is joined by a loud banging directly on her wall. Was that his... headboard?

Good heavens above, he’s really going for it over there. 

There’s a pause, then the banging gets even more intense. The woman’s moaning is closer now, and she realizes with a start what’s happening. They’d moved against the wall. Her wall.

Oh, he's dead.

She’ll kill him herself if she had to for subjecting her to this. 

Except that’s not exactly what she feels like doing as she hears the asshole practically growl, “Fuck, baby.”

~Azriel~

Mor slaps my chest, giving me a strange look. “Fuck, baby?” she whispers incredulously. “That’s what you say when you get laid?.”

I just roll my eyes and mutter, “Shut up.”

“That’s the most embarrassing, male thing you could ever say. But keep going. The point is to prove you have better stamina, and we’ve only been at this for ten minutes.”

Barely repressing laughter, I wrap her jean-clad legs tighter around my waist and keep moving against her.

When she lets out another ridiculously loud moan, I say quietly, “This is so fucking stupid.”

“I agree, but I’m not the one whose whipped.”

In case it isn’t obvious, I really, really regret telling her about Elain.

As soon as she’d heard about Lucien “Shit in the Sack” Vanserra, Mor had been determined to help.

She’s my absolute best friend, the one who knows every sordid detail about my life, and tonight she’s made it her mission in life to help make Elain jealous.

She’s also a lesbian.

“So this is doing nothing for you?” I ask with a frown. I mean, if we were naked, this would be some of my best work.

She gives me a flat look, even as I continue fake-fucking her against the wall. “Not unless you change your name to Azriella and grow a huge pair of-”

“Okay, I get it. Laugh like I said something funny.”

Rolling her eyes, she does, and I force myself to huff a chuckle, too.

Gods, she’s right. I’m whipped. And definitely deranged. For a chick who isn’t even sleeping with me.

If my friends knew, they’d never shut up about it. Mor was the only one I’d told, and that was because she knows how it feels to have feelings for someone and not be able to do anything about it.

Plus, I’d been her fake boyfriend for years in high school before she came out to her parents, so she owes me.

Mor checks her watch and raises her eyebrows. “It’s been fifteen minutes. How long do you usually last?”

It’s my turn to glare. “Did you seriously just ask me that?”

“I’m just saying, I have a date in an hour.” 

She groans, so I wait until that stops and ask, “With who?”

“That really pretty barista I told you about, so I don’t want to be late. Five more minutes seems good.” I nod, because it’s nice she’s doing this in the first place. “Make em count, champ.”

I think I’m going to kill her one day. 

But I do. 

And by the end, we’re both breathing hard and have made enough noise to wake the whole building. After a very obnoxious climax, I let Mor down. “You realize if she does ever have sex with you you’re going to have to-”

“It won’t be a problem,” I assure her, one-hundred percent confident in that fact. 

She gives me a disbelieving look but just shakes her head and ruffles her hair. Once at the door, she turns and whispers, “She’s going to look out the peep hole, so I’m going to kiss the shit out of you.”

With that, my best friend swings the door open, turns around, and puts on an expression I’ve never seen before. It’s desire and satisfaction and something else entirely I don’t want to read in to. It’s disgusting. 

But I act like the “champ” I am and don’t react, even as she pulls my face down to hers and kisses me. 

Her nails rake down my bare back, and even though this does absolutely nothing for me, I wrap my arms around her and lift her clear off her feet to bring her closer.

Don’t get me wrong, Mor’s beautiful and all, but she’s my best friend, and this is giving me flashbacks to homecoming and prom and every other time we had to put on an act.  

How long till this is over, exactly?

~Elain~

Watching him kiss that woman... Elain can admit it does strange things to her. Like makes her want to storm out and yank them apart, then scream. 

She somehow refraines. 

He finally lets her down, and the rage and frustration builds to an insurmountable level because she’s freaking gorgeous. The kind of gorgeous where Elain was tempted to go kiss her herself. 

How annoying. 

Turning on her heel, she stomps back over to her bed and flops down. 

She’s hot and cold and her core is so tight it's almost painful. 

Never, not once in her entire life, had she thought she’d be turned on hearing something like that. 

But picturing him... doing that, and so close to her own bed... yeah. She’d almost come herself, and she was in a completely different room. 

Gods, she’s pathetic. 

And she can absolutely never see him again. 

That’s beyond obvious.

Terrible liar she is, she knows it would be all over her face. What would she even say? Oh, hey neighbor. Heard you really give that woman a good time last night. So good, in fact, you almost got both of us off. High-five!

Nope. She’d rather move across town before running in to him again. 

Even though the thought makes her strangely sad. 

She falls asleep soon after, mind going back over every tiny detail she’d heard tonight until she’s surprised she can sleep at all. 

~Azriel~

It’s Sunday morning, meaning I don’t have to work. Meaning I don’t have an excuse to see Elain. 

But fuck do I want to. 

I can’t hardly wait for the blush I know will pop up on her cheeks. I probably won’t have to even speak for it to happen. There’s no way she didn’t hear the amazing fake sex I had last night. She probably won’t even be able to look me in the eyes. 

So I wait until I hear her get up and start shuffling around in her apartment. 

Then, like the creep I am, I sit on the couch and wait for her door to open so I can go out and tease her until she slaps me or something. 

But it doesn’t. I sit there until it’s four in the afternoon, and that’s when it dawns. 

She told me herself she checks her garden on Sundays--a fact she knows I know--so the only reason she wouldn’t go... 

She’s trying to avoid me.

A laugh bursts out of me. 

Oh, Elain. Baby girl, that just won’t do. 

I grab my laptop and look up the MOMA exhibits for this weekend, a probably-evil smile already blooming on my face. 

~Elain~

Should I go out the window? 

No, I live on the third floor. 

But... 

After looking at the drop down, she decides that’s definitely not happening. She’ll have to go the normal way. Which means she’ll have to walk by the door next to hers. Which belongs to him. 

Gods, she was sweating already. 

Which isn’t good, since the silk of her dress will definitely show it. Forcing herself to calm down, she grabs her clutch and slowly, quietly, opens the door. 

Empty. 

Before that can change, she hurtles down the hallway and stairs, breathing a sigh of relief when she steps outside. 

It turns into a strangled gasp as she looks up from the cement. 

Her neighbor’s standing in front of her, looking dark and alluring and inexplicably handsome in the twilight sky. 

But that’s not why her breath goes a little shallow. 

The dark jeans, boots, and t-shirts he’s worn every time she’s seen him have now been replaced with a black suit, crisply cut to his tall frame. 

He looks so handsome she can hardly remember she’s supposed to be avoiding him. 

But then the why of that statement comes rushing back, and her cheeks go pink. He looks pleased at that, even as his darkening eyes roam over her frame. 

Her dress is floor-length, but the spaghetti straps and low back make it revealing. That, and the fact that the silk fabric clings to every dip and curve of her figure. 

His eyes notice it all, all the way down to her heel-clad feet and back up to her softly curled hair. 

“Elain.”

It’s just one word, and it’s one she knows well, but it’s somehow everything. 

Now more than ever, she wished she knew his name. It usually seems like a little game, but now it feels like a whole in her chest. She wants to know him. 

Wants to know how to say his name in a way that makes him feel like she feels right now. 

“You look beautiful,” he comments, sliding his hands in the pockets of that damn suit. 

“Thank you. You look nice, too.” Nice? More like devastating. He just shrugs. “Hot date?”

A small smile graces his full lips. “No, that was last night.”

“I’m aware,” she bites out, face starting to heat. Her body’s reliving last night, and she has to force herself not to press her legs together. 

“Just wanted you to know how it’s supposed to be done.”

“How considerate.” 

He steps close, so close they’re sharing air. “Did it bother you, listening to me with another woman?”

She sure as hell can’t tell him the truth, so she says breathlessly, “Not unless you count the nausea.” 

Damn him for turning her into a liar. And damn him for smelling so good.

There’s an arm around her waist, a hand on her hip. He’s so close now that his lips brush her ear as he whispers, “Did it turn you on?”

A whimper escapes her lips, so she bites one to keep herself quiet as she shakes her head no. 

“Elain, you are such a little liar,” he scolds, pulling away to smirk at her. “You’re blushing.” A finger runs down her cheek. She bats it away. 

“We should get going,” he observes, checking his watch. 

That gets her attention. “What?”

His lips twitch as he says, “The MOMA exhibit is tonight, right?”

“Yes, but-”

“Well, we should go then.”

Oh, gods above. He’s planning on attending? With her? 

This is a terrible idea. But one look at his devilish smile tells her there’s no changing his mind. So she sighs and says, “We’ll have to get a cab. It’s across the city.”

“I’ll just drive, then,” he says, throwing her completely off guard once again. 

“Wait a second. You have a car?”

He looks amused as he takes her hand and pulls her down the street to where a dark, expensive looking SUV is parked. “I do.”

“Then why do you walk to work?”

Opening the passenger door, he turns to look her in the eyes again. “Well, you know what they say. Best way to start the day...” is a quick lay, she finishes in her mind, cheeks going pink. “-is to see a friend.”

Oh, he’s such an unbearable asshole. 

She ignores the little smile he gives her and climbs in the car, and soon they’re off. For a minute it’s silent, but then she asks quietly, “Why are you coming tonight?”

“I wanted to see you. And I’ve never been to a museum. Figured I’d have the best guide this way.” 

Reasonable enough, she supposes. Even if the way he looked at her earlier told her seeing a museum had nothing to do with art. 

She doesn’t have enough time to contemplate it, though, because he pulls up in front of the MOMA and parks, then they’re heading inside. She’s happy to see there’s quite a few people here, something she knows her sister will appreciate, too. 

Said sister rushes over immediately and smiles. “You made it!”

“Of course I did.” When she eyes the man next to her, she says awkwardly, “Um, Feyre, this is... my neighbor.”

She really has to find out his name. 

“Nice to meet you,” he says, extending a hand. “It looks like a good turnout.”

It was the right thing to say apparently, because Feyre beams. “I know! Hopefully they’ll all sell. There’s a surprise in there for you, Elain.”

Oh, gods. That usually meant something bad. Like being the subject to her sister’s very comprehensive photography exhibit three years ago.

“Anyway, you guys look around and have fun. There’s champagne in the back. Thanks for coming!” 

Elain hugs her sister tightly before she can disappear. “I’m proud of you. This is great.”

Feyre rolls her eyes as she pulls back, but they’re a little misty. “Oh, shut up or you’ll make me cry.”

Then she kisses Elain’s cheek and turns to talk to more people coming in. 

“Champagne?”

Turning to the man next to her, she smiles and nods. That sounds like an excellent idea right about now. He disappears, so she ventures to the first room. 

It’s all landscapes, beautiful paintings of mountains and the night sky and beautiful pictures of nature. She’s standing in front of one, smiling, when he comes back. “That’s your garden, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she says softly, staring at the piece in front of her with new eyes. The night they’d first met creeps into her mind, and she sees him in the painting, lounging on that cute little bench, cigarette dangling seductively from his lips. 

“You look sad.” His voice is quiet and soft, and she turns to meet his gaze. 

She has to look away, though, because he’s right. She is sad. 

Thinking about that night makes her think about what could’ve happened. How different this last week could’ve been. 

But she can’t tell him any of that, so she just turns to walk to the next room. The man next to her pauses, and she sees why as soon as her gaze goes to the wall. 

Roses, carnations, lilies. 

Tulips, orchids, peonies. 

All her favorite flowers are on the wall, the paint blending together and creating the most beautiful collage she’s ever seen. They’re all over the wall--there has to be at least fifty paintings in here. 

And in the middle of them all is the front of her shop. 

It’s an almost perfect rendition to the door of The Archeron, with the glass walls and flowers almost bursting out. 

The whole room’s been designed to look like the inside of her shop. 

A tear escapes down her cheek as she looks at the art around her. Gratitude, love, and happiness almost erupt from her, and she notices something. 

The man next to her notices it at the same time. “You feel something.”

“Yeah,” she replies happily. “I do.”

He smiles, and it’s not one of his usual little grins or smirks. It’s a full smile, showcasing all his perfect teeth. “So do I.”

The voice inside her head tells her he isn’t talking about the paintings. 

And for a minute, Elain just stands there, flowers blurring in her peripheral as she stares at him. 

“Please tell me your name,” she whispers. 

He smiles again, taking a step towards her. And it’s just as he’s leaning down that he opens his mouth and-

“Elain!” Feyre bursts into the room with a wide grin. “What do you think?”

She practically jumps a mile in the air, but she recovers quickly and says honestly, “I love it. Thank you so much. It’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Excuse me,” her neighbor says in a low voice, eyes on something in the distance as he heads to the front of the store. 

Feyre watches him go, and as soon as he’s out of earshot says, “Okay, now that he’s gone, can you tell me what’s going on? Did you and Lucien break up?”

Elain notices her sister doesn’t exactly sound sad at that prospect. “No, why would you think that?”

“Because you came here with him, and he looks like a villanous-”

“Prince Charming? That’s what I said!”

They laugh, but then Feyre smiles knowingly and asks, “You know he’s in love with you, right?”

The words clear a path through her chest, even as the heart inside swells. She suddenly can’t breathe, can’t form a normal thought. That’s... impossible. 

“What? How do you know?”

“Because he just went to buy that painting,” she says softly, motioning to The Archeron’s door. 

She shakes her head. “No, he didn’t.”

Feyre smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Yes, he did.”

“Oh, gods,” Elain whispers, pulse starting to race. 

“You like him, too. It’s obvious to anyone who isn’t you.” Feyre flicks her nose playfully. “So stop thinking so hard. Just do what makes you happy.”

They say goodbye, and Elain turns to leave, finding him by the entrance. They walk outside in silence, then ride home in silence. 

Something’s different between them, and it’s created a tangible tension in the air that makes it hard for her to breathe. 

It’s only when they’re in the hallway outside their doors that she quietly asks, “Did you buy that painting?”

His body goes a bit tense, but he looks at her and answers, “Yes.”

“Why?”

“I told you.” His eyes are warm, like chocolate and caramel and smoke. And they’re looking at her like she’s everything to him as he says, “I felt something.”

“Liar,” she accuses, stealing his line.

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t say anything, so they continue to stare at each other. She knows him so well already, but there’s one thing she’s still dying to figure out.

Just as she’s about to ask, he murmurs, “My name’s Azriel.”

She tells herself it’s the deal, the arrangement. She tells herself it doesn’t matter. She tells herself she’s just paying the price. 

Elain tells herself all sorts of little lies as she steps forward, takes his face in her hands, and presses her lips to his. 

______________________________________________________________

Wrote this in one setting sorry if it’s shit. Part 4

@wineywitch202 @astreia-oniria @keshavomit @zukos-simp @whimsyrhys @lameomclameo @thedarkdemigod @captainthefangirlofhp @elriel4life @queen-of-glass @courtofjurdan @nessiantho @texas-shaped-waffle-maker @stardelia @myshadowsingeraz @tswaney17 @illyriangarbage @nicerhero @fancycrowncat @sjmships @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @superspiritfestival @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @a-bit-of-a-cactus @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @poisonous00 @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @afifthofvodka @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

[platonicteenwolf]

Wolf Moon (S1E1) Part II

Teen Wolf x Reader Series Rewrite

A/N: Let me know if any of the links are wacky or if I mess up on any of the pronouns cause posting three versions is sometimes a bit confusing so I can fix it if needed. Also lmk if there’s a misspelling or grammar issue too :)

They/Them Pronouns Version

He/Him Pronouns Version

Next Part / Masterlist

Warnings: dead body, swearing

Lacrosse stick strapped to his backpack, Scott pedals into the parking lot of Beacon Hills High School among the swarm of students. Skateboarders jump steps, potheads take barely concealed tokes, girls and guys hold hands, guys and guys hold hands, (yes it’s California.)

As Scott pulls his bike to one of the racks to lock it up, a pristine BMW with a license plate that reads: JCKSN37, blazes into the lot and stops in the space next to the racks. Scott, still kneeling, gets bumped in the back when the driver’s side door opens.

Jackson Whittemore, exceptionally good-looking and usually oblivious to anyone not within his social or financial circle, steps out to notice that Scott hit his car by being near it.

“Dude. Watch the paint job.”

He’s completely unaware of hitting Scott as he grabs his own lacrosse equipment.

“Yo Jackson!”

Hearing his favorite word, Jackson looks up and heads over to meet his friends. All good looking jocks with big smiles and expensive cars, pretty girls coming up to say hello.

—————

A school bell rings outside a brick building swarming with students.

“Alright let’s see this thing,” Stiles says, a little too eagerly. Now standing in front of the school, Scott takes off his backpack and pulls his shirt up a few inches to show Stiles and I the bandage on his lower back.

“Oh damn that looks bad!” I reach out to touch it and Scott flinches back. “Oops, sorry”

“It was too dark to see much but I’m pretty sure it was a wolf.”

Scoffing, Stiles countered “A wolf bit you? No, not a chance.”

“I heard a wolf howling.”

”No, you didn’t.”

“What do you mean ‘No, I didn’t?’ How do you know what I heard?”

Jumping in, I explained, “California doesn’t have wolves. Not for the last sixty years. The animals were almost hunted to extinction in the 1920s California Gold Rush.” Both boys looked at me in surprise. “What,” I questioned, “I like history.”

Seemingly accepting that answer Scott continued on. “Well, if you don’t believe me about the wolf, then you’re definitely not going to believe me when I tell you I saw the body.”

“Holy shit!” This was amazing!

“You what? Are you kidding me!?” He almost looked like a kid who just found the hidden candy cabinet.

“I wish. I’m going to have nightmares about it for a month.”

There was still one thing I’ve been wondering about though, “Which half of the body was it?”

“Oh- it was the top half. I saw her dead eyes staring back at me. It was scary.” Scott shuddered, thinking about her lifeless body laying in the forrest.

“Well I think that’s freaking awesome,” Stiles concluded. “This is seriously the best thing that’s happened to this town since...”

Stiles suddenly got very distracted by something behind Scott. I turned around to see what it is and you’ll never guess.

“...since the birth of Lydia Martin who’s walking toward us right now.”

A drop-dead gorgeous junior named Lydia Martin was walking towards the school doors like it was a fashion show runway in Milan. Stiles has had the biggest crush on Lydia ever since we were kids.

“Hey Lydia, how are you? You look--” She walks right past him not even giving him a second glance. “...like you’re going to ignore me.”

Scott chuckled at his failed attempt in flirting with the girl as I pat him on his shoulder.

“You’ll get her next time champ.” Stiles shot me an unappreciative glare as I held my hands up in defense and he started grumbling about how unfair everything was.

“You guys are the cause of this, you know. Dragging me down to your nerd depths. I’m a nerd by association. I’ve been Scarlet-nerded by you.”

As we reach the steps of the school I get ready to part with the dynamic duo to get to my class. “Alright boys, I’ve got first with Harris so I’ll see y’all later.” Mentions of good luck were lost behind me as I entered the thick crowd ready to start the day.

—————

First period English. Scott takes the desk next to Stiles as the teacher, Mr. Curtis starts writing instructions on the chalkboard.

“As you all know by now, there was indeed a body found in the woods last night. I’m sure your eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to what happened but I’ve been told that the police have a suspect in custody.”

Scott looks to Stiles who shrugs, news to him as well.

“Which means you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus on your desk outlining the semester. Read it now. And by read I don’t mean skim.”

As the students begin reading a cell phone starts ringing out of nowhere. Scott glances up and looks around. The other students quietly read the syllabus, seemingly not hearing the noise. Gazing about, he can’t seem to find the source until his eyes fall on the windows of the classroom...

Outside - across the quad, Scott sees a girl sitting on a bench who he will come to know as Allison Argent. Sixteen and radiating with an innocent beauty. When she puts the cell phone to her ear, it becomes obvious that, despite the closed windows and the distance, this is the ringing Scott is somehow able to hear.

More astonishingly, Scott can hear both Allison and her caller.

“Mom, three calls on my first day is a little overdoing it,” Allison teased.

“Just making sure you’re there okay and you’ve got everything you need.” But Allison digs through her bag, becoming alarmed.

“Everything except a pen. Oh my God, I didn’t actually forget a pen.”

“Don’t panic. I’m sure you can borrow one from another student.”

“Okay, okay, I gotta’ go. Love ya.”

Unable to take his eyes off the extraordinary girl, Scott watches the school’s principal join her on the steps.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” The Principal guides her across the quad, their conversation becoming clearer to Scott with every step.

“So you were saying San Francisco isn’t where you grew up?”

“No, but we stayed for more than a year which is unusual in my family.”

Even when Allison and the Principal disappear from view, Scott hears the clatter of the building door opening, the clicking of their heels on the tile floor of the hall.

“Well, hopefully, Beacon Hills is your last stop for a while.” The door to the classroom opened, causing the rest of the class to look up.

The principle turns to address the room. “Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent. Please do your best to make her feel welcome.”

Scott barely breathes as Allison heads for the one empty desk left in the room. Right behind him. She puts her notebook down, then glances up to see Scott turned toward her. Holding out a pen. With a relieved but curious smile, she takes it from him.

“Thanks.”

Scott gives her a nod, turning around with a proud expression. Looking up at the front of the room, Mr. Curtis stands up to start the lesson.

“We’ll begin with Kafka’s metamorphosis on page 133...”

—————

The school bell rings throughout the halls indicating its time to move to your next class. As I walked out of my classroom I spotted Stiles coming out of his. Jogging towards him to catch up, I shout his name to grab his attention. Whipping his head around he greets me with the classic, dopey, Stilinski smile. “Hey bub, what’s up?” I ask.

Rolling his eyes at the nickname, he grumbles all about how boring his English class was. “...oh! And there’s a new girl at school today!”

Interesting, I thought. Spotting Scott in the distance we both quicken our pace to meet with him at his locker.

—————

As he grabs his lock to open the door, Scott hears Allison just down the corridor. Looking towards where she stands they connect eyes. She starts to smile, recognizing the cute guy who gave her the pen. But then Lydia Martin swoops in front of her.

“That jacket is absolutely killer. Where did you get it?”

“My Mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco,” Allison explains.

Suddenly Jackson, Lydia’s boyfriend, walks up to the pair and puts his arm around Lydia and she greets him with a kiss.

Turning back towards his locker, Scott spotted Y/N and Stiles walking up to him.

—————

Looking at the Alpha Male and his arm candy across the hall, I turn towards the boys with a confused look on my face.

“Can someone tell me how the new girl is here all of five minutes and she’s already hanging with Lydia’s clique?”

“Because she’s hot. Beautiful people herd together,” Stiles answers. He’s got a point. He steps up to open his own locker next to Scott’s.

“Is that why Lydia isn’t herding with you?”

“Lydia’s a long term project, okay? And trust me, I’ve got all the patience in the world for a high yield investment like her.”

You’ve got to give him credit. He’s committed.

—————

Head cocked slightly, Scott tunes into the conversation from the other end of the corridor, voices coming into focus.

“So,” Lydia exclaims, “this weekend there’s a party.”

“A party?”

Jackson leaned on the lockers next to him, arm now wrapped around Lydias torso. “Yeah, Friday night. You should come.”

“I can’t. It’s Family Night this Friday. But thanks for asking.”

“You sure? Everyone’s going after the scrimmage”

“You mean like football?”

“Football is a joke at Beacon. The sport here is Lacrosse. We won the state championship the last three years--“

Cutting in Lydia praises, “Because of a certain team captain.”

“We have practice in a few minutes,” Jackson explains. “You don’t have to be anywhere, do you?”

“Well, no, I was just going--“

Lydia claps her hands in excitement, “Perfect! You’re coming.”

—————

A whistle blowing echoes across the field. The Lacrosse Team’s Coach gathers the team on the field, Stiles and Scott lagging behind.

“But if you play I’ll have no one to talk to on the bench! You really gonna’ do that to your best friend?”

“Hey! No fair.” I look toward Stiles pouting when he gives me an obnoxious look.

“You don’t count.” I shoved him sticking my tongue out and watched as Stiles accidentally collided with Scott.

“Oops sorry Scott,” I apologize.

With an amused smile after watching our banter Scott continued his argument. “I can’t sit out again. My whole life is sitting on the sidelines. This season, I make first line.” He heads for the field, pausing to see Lydia climbing the bleachers. And stepping right behind her... Allison.

I look towards the boy and follow his gaze behind me where I see the girls sitting. “Hey,” I nudged Stiles who was busy putting all his gear down around him in a destructive manner. “I think Scott’s got a crush on the new girl.”

“What? What makes you say that?”

“Look!” I point towards where Scott stands, still starring dreamily at Allison, but he’s suddenly interrupted when a lacrosse stick hits him in the chest.

“McCall! You’re in the goal.”

Scott turns to Coach Bobby Finstock, a man with little comprehension of the difficulties of teenage life. He tosses Scott the bundle of goalie equipment.

“But I’ve never played goal.”

“I know. Scoring some shots will give the boys a confidence boost. It’s a first day back thing. Get them energized, fired up!”

“What about me?”

“Try not to take any in the face.”

This is not gonna end well, I think to myself.

—————

Stepping into the net, Scott glances to the bleachers where Allison watches with Lydia, eyes focusing on them.

“Who is that,” Allison questions.

Him? I’m not sure who he is. Why?”

“He’s in my English class.”

Scott looks up, shocked to hear Allison asking about him. But with his hearing momentarily turned up, he flinches at the whistle blow, sound ringing through his skull.

One of the bigger players charges forward as the Assistant Coach passes the ball to him. Catching it, he whips his stick forward, hurling the ball toward the goal.

Still reeling from the whistle, Scott looks up too late to see the ball soaring toward him. It bounces right off his helmet and into the net. The team laughs wickedly. Even Coach snickers.

Cheeks burning under his mask, Scott readies himself for the next player. When the whistle blows again, he’s ready. The Assistant Coach passes the ball to the next player who catches it and fires it right at the goal.

Scott moves startlingly fast, almost an instantaneous reaction. Then he notices the player staring at him with a mixture of disappointment and surprise. Scott has the ball.

“Yeah!” Stiles shouts from the sideline, impressed with his friends newfound luck. “See I told you he was practicing,” I brag to Stiles.

When the next player takes the shot, Scott catches the ball again. And then again. And again. Nothing can get past him.

In the bleachers, Allison and Lydia sit forward.

“He seems like he’s pretty good,” Allison continues to stare at Scott practicing on the field

“Very good.” Intrigued, Lydia keeps her gaze locked on Scott who now stands with a far more confident posture. Until he sees that Jackson is next in line. Glaring at Scott, he practically strangles the lacrosse stick with his gloves.

“Oh God...” Scott croaks with fear.

The Assistant Coach tosses the ball up. Jackson launches forward, catching the ball and spinning around to fire it at the goal. But Scott moves with supernatural precision. The ball lands right in the pocket of the goalie stick.

Stiles and I let out hollers of excitement, jumping up from the bench. In the bleachers, Lydia stands and cheers as well causing Jackson to throw a look at her. She returns his glare with a sly smile, a warning to step up his game.

Grinning, Scott gives the goalie stick a whirl, spinning it with a flick of his wrist and sending the ball soaring right into the pocket of the stunned Assistant Coach’s stick.

—————

In the woods, Scott retraces his steps from last night with Stiles and I following behind him.

“I don’t know what it was. It was like, I had all the time in the world to catch the ball.”

Walking towards a bank we came to a river we had to cross. I hope Scott knows where he’s going. After seeing nowhere to cross we trudged through the river soaking our feet in the water. If my shoes smell after this I’m gonna kill him.

Reaching the other side, Scott continued with his worries. “And that’s not the only weird thing. I mean I can hear stuff I shouldn’t be able to hear. And I can smell things.”

“Smell things? Like what,” Stiles questions.

“Like the mint mojito gum in your pocket.”

“I don’t have any...” Stiles pulls out a lint-covered piece of wrapped gum.

Looking up at Scott in shock, he just shrugged, continuing his walk into the woods. Double checking, I ask him, “so all this started with the bite?”

“What if it’s an infection? What if my body is flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?”

“I’ve actually heard of this,” Stiles starts, “It’s a specific kind of infection.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I think it’s called... Lycanthropy.”

“Oh my god.” I roll my eyes at his accusation. He can’t be serious.

“No I’m serious! This is important!”

“What’s that? Is it bad? It sounds bad.”

“It is. But only once a month.”

“Once a month?”

“On the night of a full moon. Awroooo”

Scott looks at him. And then it clicks. Giving him a push, we continued walking.

“Stiles you’re such a dumbass sometimes,” I chide.

“Hey, he’s the one who heard a wolf howling.”

“There could be something seriously wrong with me!” Scott looks back at Stiles with a look of fear.

“I know! You’re a werewolf! Grrr!” He slashes his hands through the air in a claw motion and I take this opportunity to stick my leg out in front of him and watch as he trips.

As Stiles falls to the forrest floor Scott and I laugh at his stupidity. “Okay, obviously, I’m kidding. But if you see me in shop class melting down all the silver I can find it’s because Friday’s a full moon.”

We seemed to reach the destination because Scott started to look around the area.

“I swear this was it. I saw the body, the deer came running, I dropped my inhaler...”

“Maybe the killer moved the body.”

“If he did, I hope he left my inhaler. Those things are like eighty bucks.”

As the boys thought of different theories I looked towards the woods and saw someone walking towards us. Is that.. Derek Hale?

“Hello,” I greet, waving to the man.

Stiles looks up at me and then to the man and taps Scott on the arm, pulling him to his feet. Derek Hale. Nineteen and unquestionably handsome, he has a rougher look than the cleanly shaven Beacon Hills boys.

“What are you doing here?”

Both Scott and Stiles are too stunned to speak at first “This is private property.”

“Sorry, we didn’t know,” Stiles assures.

Derek stares at Scott, barely noticing Stiles or I.

Scott opens his mouth to speak to the man but then closes it, at a loss for words.

I take this as an opportunity explain. “We were just looking for something but we’ll leave. Sorry to bother you.”

As we’re turning to go, Derek tosses an object to Scott. His inhaler. When he looks up, Derek is already walking away.

Now finding his voice, Scott mutters, “Aight, come on. I’ve gotta get to work.”

“Dude, that was Derek Hale, “Stiles exclaims. “You remember, right? He’s only a few years older than us.”

“Remember what?”

“His family. They all burned to death in a fire like ten years ago.”

We used to have a class together in school. “I remember the cops pulling him out of class to tell him,” I tell the boys. “I wonder what he’s doing back.”

Scott eyes the inhaler in his hand, closing his fist over it. “Come on,” he says again.

—————

Tag List: @linkpk88

[hs-devote]

17. W H O ?

Moodboard // Content // Masterlist

Disclaimer:

All characters and situation in this story are fictitious. Resemblance to any person living or dead is only God knows.

Previous chapter;

Her gasping voice managed him even more brutal, his dick now was hard and fast. Fucking her like there’s no tomorrow. Her next sentence caught him off guard, making him smirk in soaring ego even more.

“Marcel..”

17. WHO?

The sun was shining brightly. Birds chirping and water stream made the atmosphere calmer. The silence of the morning felt different.

Harry was wide awake since thirty minutes ago. His bright green eyes now staring deadly at the sleeping woman facing him. Her eyes shut closed, breath steady and lips slightly parted. He didn't know when he came back. When he opened his eyes, Y/N was the first thing his eyes saw. His hand lifted slowly, shoving away her baby hair stuck in her forehead. His eyes were sad, looking at every inch of his girlfriend's face. His mind flashed back to last night's memory. He didn't know why he could let Marcel take his place, and pretended to be him in front of his darling. Seeing the innocence of Y/N who thought he was him, talked like himself, and was nice to her.

That wasn’t the first time or twice that Marcel had pretended, and it had Harry worried.

And the most heartbreaking was, Marcel took advantage of the situation. Of her.

Who could bear to see someone pretended to be him and let his Y/N believe it? It was disgusting, irritating.

How the fuck Marcel fuck his girlfriend?

How could he allow that?

And sweet, sweet Y/N. The darling girlfriend, the love of his life. She was too pure to him.

His heart broke to see the two of them having sex. The most terrible of all, Y/N thought she was giving up all of her for her boyfriend, like usual.

If she only knew…

He couldn't stop Marcel, he couldn't go back to his place and saw it all. He was confused and upset. How could he not to be strong enough to fight Marcel?

Harry grimaced when he was some bruises forming on her body. She was fragile and Marcel was rough to her. He left the ugliest marks on her, disgusting bruises that made him remember he let Marcel fuck his girlfriend. He felt guilty about her, and he was sorry.

“I love you, darling. And I’m sorry.” His faint whisper sounded sad. His fingertips touching her flush cheek before landed a kiss on her gaping lips.

God, he felt like he was about to cry.

Carefully, he lifted the comforter wrapped over them and set his feet on the cold wooden floor, rushing to the bathroom after taking a glance on his lover.

The morning was too cold for his liking despite the warm sunshine through their villa. He didn't know why, but the cold felt different. His shaky steps led him to the shower, feeling the water flowing his body and shed all the restlessness that was blocking his heart. Usually, lingering under the water was one of his hobbies. But, not for now.

He quickly stepped out of the cubicle and wrapped the towel around his waist, turned to the mirror and looked at his own reflection. He was silent for quite a time since he was waiting for Marcel. Every drop of water ran down his skin, he counted.

How long it took for Marcel to appear in front of him?

“What do you mean?”

Silent.

“I know you're there.”

Silent.

“Fucking show yourself!”

No. Harry never asked Marcel to show up. This was the first time he asked him, forced him. He didn't like it. He didn't even more like what Marcel was taking advantage of him.

“Well, well. Look who's begging, now?” he smirked, “Hello to you, Harry.”

Harry gritted his teeth, his fist clenching on the counter. “What the fuck was that?”

Marcel sighed, shaking his head. “I didn't do anything. I even behaved nicely all this time."

“The feeling was immaculate. Loved by people.” He hummed, “I'm jealous of you.”

“I've tried, Marcel. I've tried to not annoy you, but, look what you did? I've always been good to you.” Harry grunted, “You're taking what's not your rights! Do you not realise you also have no right over me?”

"I let you did anything. But, when it comes to my girlfriend, I can't just sit down and let anything happen."

"The thing, Harry.. both of us sharing the same body. You are me, and I am you. We're one. Like it or not, we both are one same creature." said Marcel, his eyes were dark as a night storm yet somehow, there was a warmth like a moonlight.

“We share everything. Including her.”

“Don't you dare put her into this. I–”

"Now, I know why you like her so much, or I'll say.. love her so much." He sighed, "She was that devil in between the sheets. Sex with her was  a heaven."

Marcel kept babbling and babbling, while Harry's fists were so tight against his sides. His teeth gnashed in anger, face was hard as stone. He wanted to hit Marcel, so bad. Yet, he couldn't.

How came he hit the shadow?

“And the most pleasurable thing is, she moaned my name, Marcel, not you.”

Harry did remember it faintly. How her sweet lips moaned Marcel's name. Not him. Did she know it was him? If she did, why she didn't refuse him to fuck her?

If she didn't know, why she was moaning Marcel name instead of him?

No, he couldn't let Marcel control himself. Or, it would make Marcel feel winning. Even if he wanted to explode, he had to suppress and stop it eventually. Without saying anything, Harry inhaled harshly and left the bathroom at once.

There, he was Y/N had awakened, sat with her bare back facing him. Her unruly hair was tied highly with head tilted up, it looked like she was looking at the mangroves over there. Very slowly, Harry crawled across the bed, smiling faintly before peppering wet kisses on her bare skin and wrapping his hand around her stomach.

“Good morning, baby.”

“Good morning, H.” She tilted her neck, smiling softly at him before kissing his jaw, “Sleep well? You were wasted last night.”

"Mhmm, I'm a little tired, still." He mumbled, his ring-clean fingers stroking her chin before pulling her lips towards him. He felt a little disappointed when she refused. Yet, the feeling disappeared when he found out the reason.

"Morning breath, H. Although I'm not sure my breath smells, I just woke up and you've brushed your teeth." She whined, "Let me take shower first."

Slouched his shoulders, Harry nodded frantically, “Fine then. We still have plenty of time before going home tomorrow.”

“We haven't had time to walk along the shoreline in the dusk,” she pouted, “I haven't even had time to wear my bikini here!”

He cackled while stroking her knuckles, his eyes looked at every bluish mark in her body, reminded him of Marcel's roughness last night to her. Every time they had sex, Harry never left the slightest bruise in her delicate body. And this was the first moment he was his darling's beautiful body scarred by his own shadow.

Remembering that his Y/N had sex with Marcel made him sick, angry, and upset. He was fed up enough with all of Marcel's tricks, angry with himself, and upset that Y/N was being fooled like this. But above all, he was angry with himself for not being able to protect her.

“I was too rough last night. You have some bruises,” he muttered, more likely to himself, “Does it hurt? I'm sorry, darling. I got too carried away.”

“They're my first sex injuries, to be honest.” She giggled, “I'm quite sore. And it does hurt a bit if you press them. But, it's okay, H.”

“It's not, baby...” shaking his head, he slowly raised he hand, finding bruises on her triceps and wrists, “Look at them..” then, he pointed at some in her ankles, thigh, and even hips, “That's.. horrible.”

“Baby..” Y/N sighed, grabbing Harry's hand and squeezed them, “It's okay. It's not weird for someone to get hurt during sex. Things like that happen. It will heal by itself.”

He frowned, “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Maybe we can find something to help it heal faster.” He muttered.

She shrugged, “Maybe. But, I want to take a shower first.”

“Don't take too long, we still have breakfast.”

Y/N nodded happily before leaning over to kiss his cheek; one of her habit in the morning before taking shower. Harry grinned, playfully slapping her bum before she could disappear behind the door.

“Do that again or we'll leave the jacuzzi unmarked!”

With that, Harry laughed loudly. . . . .

There was nothing more beautiful than the dusk with calm waves sweeping the coast. The birds flying split the sky with their formidable wings just seen as the silhouettes, the beauty of the afternoon sun was immediately drowned by the moon.

Wearing one piece bikini, the backless and deep V cut upfront just after her belly button, making anyone who saw it would stop instantly to admire her beauty. Yet, the flowy skirt made a goddess impression, the wind-catching curtain strips design really did her a favour when the wind hit hard. The bikini was pretty, and she felt as sexy as hell.

This one might not as expensive or popular as those Victoria's Secret that Harry brought for her, but enough to made him couldn't keep his hands off her. He always, always had them at her waist or slipping underneath the fabric, resting seductively on her thigh.

“I don't think I want to go home,” Y/N whispered, “Feels like paradise.”

"I'm sorry to burst your bubble, Baby. But, London is waiting." Harry nudged her shoulder, "But, I promise we'll come back again or go to a more heavenly place."

The wind was getting stronger, making her hair and skirt flow. Without her noticing, Harry secretly adored this God's creation before him. How her mesmerising eyes always had captured him, the cute nose button, the way her cheeks blushed every time he complimented her, the softest lips she had. Her face structure was even more solid than his personality. She was soft, yet solid on its way.

“You're so gorgeous,” he smiled while tucking her strands behind her ear, “Beautiful baby.”

“Thank you, H.” She blushed, “You're beautiful too.”

He laughed, “Beautiful? How come?”

“Beautiful is describing something, someone looks good and shine inside and outside. And handsome, for me, only for something looks good outside. Which is not you.” She bit her lip, teasingly stroke her fingertip down his clothed chest.

She didn't understand why her boyfriend wearing a T-Shirt instead of topless. He had a really nice body, undoubtedly strong physique meanwhile he went all shy with white linen and beach shorts. While his toned chest tight against his thin fabric, his short hanging loosely up to his knees. His little si and no tattoos made the appearance every time his shorts were pulled up.

"I'm a bit sad since we'll back to the complicated life tomorrow," Y/N sighed, "It's nice to have a little time to get back with nature."

Harry nodded, "Good thing neither of us having a bad hangover, or at all. We would spend time just doing nothing in the room and not coming down here. Yet, I didn't really remember what happened last night.”

“You were wasted, H. We ditched the party and you dragged me to the bar, enjoying some nice Tequila.” she frowned, “It was the first time I saw you drink so much.”

“Really? The last thing I remember is you were leaving me to get a drink. Feels like it erased a little of my memory.”

Honestly, Harry didn't forget what happened last night one bit. He saw them in his shadow, could do nothing and be forced to see everything with his own eyes. He just tried to test her, would she tell him back, or no?

“Something came up and it ended with me getting drunk.” he flicked his eyes to her, looking at Y/N who was having her gaze to where the sun would set. The tide wasn't that big yet the winds started blowing hard towards the open sea.

"Mhm, you got annoyed when.." she stopped in mid-sentence, "Well. I've found out that my ex-boyfriend was also the wedding's guests. He came up to me out of nowhere while I was drinking and forced me to come with him. You came on time and got mad when he made me uncomfortable and started talking bullshit."

"Ah, I remember. He said some nasty things and I.. threatened him?" he murmured, was more talking to himself, "The rest is still blurred for me."

“Both of you almost got into the fight if I didn't drag you away. We returned to the table afterwards and shortly left after Kelly and David announced their exit.”

“We got some drink later on and ended up with, obviously, sex?”

“Clearly.”

“Must be wasted enough to had rough sex.”

"Harry..." she rolled her eyes before shaking her head, "I don't even think it was rough."

He shook his head, “Yes it was since you have some bruises left on you, darling. Seemed like I was furious with him and took it all on you.”

Y/N bit her lip before shrugging, stepped a little more until the water soaked up to her knees, her eyes were still staring the sun as if it was being swallowed up by the ocean.

“So, what about him? You never talked about him much and he made you uncomfortable.” he asked gently, “It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. He didn't.. hurt you in any sort of way, did he?”

"Of course no, H. We broke up just because he was bored of me and dated the new girl just a few days after that, it was annoyed me." she shrugged, "Last night was the first time I met him since then and the broke up just made the situation awkward."

“And he verbally assaulted you, which is I can't take that.” he collected his memory.

"I know he was a jerk, but I didn't expect him to be like that. I felt fooled for a year dating him." she scoffed, "And he was also assaulting you, H. That's not okay."

"Fine then. Now I know he's an asshole and he can't be allowed near you. Who knows what he will do next time?"

“Precisely.”

“Now, we'd better do something more fun since we'll back in town tomorrow. Make it some enticing for the last.” Harry wiggled his eyebrow, stepping farther for only joining his girlfriend. His hands now wandering her exposed skin.

“And, what's that?”

“Strip down for me.”

“What?”

“You heard me, baby.”

She nervously laughed, then her voice stern with confusion. “I'm not getting naked here.”

Without saying a word, Harry had his fingers untied her skirt's tie and let the fabric down loose to the water. He hurriedly picked it up before Y/N scolded him and threw it into the sand not too far away.

“It's an open beach and we won't do the thing running on your head now, H.” she cried out when her boyfriend began to remove his shirt, letting the fabric joining her pooled skirt over there.

“We're not doing the skinny dip. I don't want to anyone to have their eyes on your exposed body either, darling.” he grinned, “This one only belongs to Harry Styles,” then making a circular motion around her body.

Now, Harry only had his shorts on while Y/N wrapped in her one-piece bikini, her smooth thighs no longer hindered by the skirts. The tension became thicker after he pulled her closer to his body, wrapping his arm on her waist as the other resting on her back.

"This pretty bikini is useless if we don't use it properly." he whispered, rubbing her bareback and forth. Before she knew it, he quickly lifted her and brought her to water, crashing down their bodies into the calm tide. She let out a piercing screech when the water swallowed down their body together. Instinctively swaddled her legs around his waist and gripping tightly.

They loved to swim, of course. But, when it came from the sea or ocean, Y/N didn't know how powerful they were to against. She never had the brave to swim in the open wide space, like this. So, she entrusted her boyfriend with her life since the sea, or ocean, kept many mysterious secrets. She loved the beach, but the ocean would always terrify her. She inhaled sharply after they made it to the surface, her now face red facing Harry who was holding back his laughter.

"Why you always do that?!" she swatted his shoulder, "Let me take a breath first."

“I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry,” he laughed, kissing her now salty cheek, “That was fun.”

“Not for me. Don't ever mess with the ocean, H.”

“The water bearer inside you is feeling disappointed now. Water is our element, darling.” snickered him, “If we ever die on here, who knows we're going to be reincarnated as a merman or mermaid.”

“Harry!”

Harry just shook his head, knowing his girlfriend didn't like the idea of both of them die in the ocean. He didn't like either, but messing around with her was something fun to see. He knew she was annoyed,  the way her lips pout told him all, so he would try to cheer her mood up.

"I'm sorry, darling. I really am. How about a nice and safe swim before we get back, yeah? Promise not messing around like that again?"

Y/N adorably nodded, resting her head against his neck while her eyes staring away from the illuminating orange sky. Her lips broke a smile when Harry put his chin on top her head and rubbing her sides. She felt the warm salty water drowned half her body, while her upper was warm because of his body heat.

The serene, peaceful moment was something she never dreamt before. The tranquil waves, his warm body, were her own paradise in the middle of life madness. She giggled a little when Harry kissed her wet hair, whined softly when his nose nudging her cheek.

As the sun setting down, both of them lifted their head. Bringing their lips moulded together like they knew what each other was thinking. Harry sighed happily whilst his girlfriend opened her mouth, letting his tongue devoured her.

Y/N didn't know how but her adrenaline increasing of the way Harry was trying to take off her bikini. She wanted to protest, really, but she was too aroused. Her mind was torn apart between the fear of being caught by people or let her body surrender to him.

Yet, the first option quickly slipped down from her mind while his skillfully fingers pushing into her nerve. Her moan made Harry drew a smirk, before sliding out his two fingers and thrusting in again in flash.

"Harry, Harry... Oh!"

Looked like they would tick the beach sex on their bucket list. . . . .

The short escape to Mexico was a paradise. For sure.

The work boredom had hit again once after they got back to London. Loads of paperwork and new tasks screaming loudly once the couple back to the office. And of course Harry would back at it again.

There was some good news, the lawyers succeeded to get in touch with Elle Powell, and Harry immediately planned a meeting. He had to sort this out quickly if he didn't want Erskine to collapse. He was even more got a headache when he saw the percentage of client losses compared to last year. And that wasn't healthy.

Of course they wouldn't meet alone, it would only make the gossip bigger. He would be accompanied by Allen and Y/N, while Elle would come with her manager. Both parties agreed to keep their meetings secret and chose Allen's office as the place.

“Elle Powell and her manager are here, Mr Davys.”

“Send them in, thank you.”

"What do you think now, H?" Y/N mumbled after Allen's assistant announcing their guests' arrival. Her curious eyes watched the way Harry shifted in his seat, fingers fumbling together.

“I just want this to be over, darling.” he exhaled, “I just want the truth. Everything drains my energy.”

“Harry,” she murmured, scooting closer to him, “I may not know how you feel right now but one thing you have to remember, everything will be fine and done. I'm sorry I couldn't help much but I'll always be your side.”

“No matter what.” she added.

“It's more than enough and I thank you for everything you've done.” he smiled softly, “So, thank you, baby.”

The door opened right after Harry landed a soft kiss on his girlfriend's cheek. Their attention was diverted to a familiar face yet kind off blur in Harry's memory, next to her stood someone they assumed to be her manager when he immediately shook Allen's hand.

“Harry.”

“Elle.”

Both of them awkwardly shook each other hands before taking their seat. While Harry could only smile awkwardly, Y/N's face looked sour as Elle ignored her. She began to feel disinterested and prayed that this would over quickly. Harry could feel his lover's displeasure instantly from the way she shifted agitatedly. Conveniently, he rubbed her shoulder and smiled faintly.

“Okay, let's strike to the point. We all are sure Ms Powell busy with her schedule and so is Harry.” Allen spoke, “Did you have the record firstly, Ms Powell?”

Elle straightened her body up, “I did have it in my old personal phone which I have never used again. One day when I wanted to throw the phone, I had to delete all the files there. So, when I checked the gallery, the video was gone. I thought I deleted it. Yet, suddenly the tape was already widespread.”

“When did it happen?”

"I think it was for about a month? Between the gone of video and.. you know, the media started to publish it.”

“And now you don't have the video anymore? Or the copy?”

“Absolutely not. You can check my phone or anything related.”

“What about him?” Elle's manager, Sebastian, averted his gaze to Harry, “Does he have it?”

“No, he doesn't. If he does, why would he ruin his own career or Ms Powell’s.” Allen made a point, “After all, Mr Styles and Ms Powell don't have any bad blood to each other.”

"I think we can make a statement letter for both of them. If one day someone is caught lying, it will strengthen their position." Y/N suggested, exchanging glances at everyone in the room. But, when her eyes fell to Elle, she could guess that the woman was doubting her.

Sebastian nodded, “Sounds good, actually.”

The rest of the meeting went well. Elle and her manager very cooperative and open about this scandal, it wasn't too difficult to get information from them. All they understood so far, wasn't Elle who widespread the video. She was also the victim of this scandal. The video suddenly disappeared from her old mobile phone one night and she didn't know what would happen next. She was kind enough to lend the evidence to Allen since he would take that to the cyber team. Elle also told them she had guests a few nights before the video was lost. But no one could dare to use her personal phone, let alone the old one.

Y/N was a little relieved when Elle didn't make a move of trying to flirt with her boyfriend considering how pretty and popular she was. She felt insecure when she saw her in person, and thinking of how her Harry had been in a relationship with the star.

It didn't take a long time for Allen to report the first update to Harry, which was a nice thing.

"The video was sent to an unknown number via iMessage on the February 15th night time. The video and iMessage were deleted after the video was received successfully. The cyber team tracked down the number's last activity was on February 20 and its last location was in Romford. I'll send someone to trace that location.”

“Do you think we can ask Elle's house footage? I mean, we can find out who came to her house that night.” Harry asked his lawyer instantly. The two of them now were in his office, talking about the possibility.

“I'll ask Sebastian if Elle's willing. I also had some insiders in some online media to find out who sold them the video. We have to move fast and multitask every single thing now, Harry.”

“Yeah, yeah. You're right.” he muttered, “And about Dale. Any update regarding the unknown messages?”

"As you might expect, he paid the fine and made a statement letter."

“That prick,” he scowled lowly, “I'm quite surprised he hasn't sent that kind of message anymore. He couldn't just give up, right? There must be something he is up to.”

“How's the company, Harry? Any good news?”

Harry chuckled before shaking his head, his fingers playing with his signature pen, "What's the good of losing so many clients, Allen? I'm starting to worry about the company's financial and the future of Erskine. Even though I know my people are working hard as we talk right now." he continued, "Sometimes I think, the company's leader image is that important more than the performance and credibility. And that's.. unbelievable.”

“All right then. I wish the best for Erskine's sake, and mostly you. I have to work this case out.”

“Thank you, Allen.”

He huffed right after Allen exited his office. Lifting his head, his eyes now staring at the high ceiling. His fingers pinching his nose bridge then exhaled harshly afterwards. Then, his head snapped when he heard his door suddenly opened. He frowned, Madeleine should have called first to announce his next guest. And it annoyed him.

“What do you want?”

“I'm sorry, Mr Styles. I–”

"Did Madeleine tell you to come to my office?"

“Yes, Mr Styles. Ms Brown announced the cue right after Mr Davis came out.”

“Fucking moron,” he muttered under his breath, “Fine then. Take a seat, please.”

His employees just smiled nervously, taking the vacant chair in front of his boss. Carefully, he put down a thick bundle on Harry’s desk. Before he got the chance to open his mouth, Harry quickly grabbed the report – squinting his eyes.

“That is the Client Monthly Reports, sir.”

“It’s clearly written here.” Harry muttered, arching eyebrow questionably to his employee.

"Right. Apologise, sir." The employee fumbled his fingers, "It's Year to Year client reports. Since Erskine loses some clients, the company's financial state starts to instability. Still on a normal scale but if the condition still continues to go down, we're afraid it will get worse."

“How much is left now?”

“Only fifty left, sir.”

Harry had never snapped his head this fast as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Of the more than a hundred clients they had, only fifty left?

How Erskine would survive with only that number left? He didn't just think of the London head office, many branch offices also depended on them.

“I believe Y/N told me we still have seventy?” he worked his jaw, “She didn’t report my anything.”

“Fifty is the latest update per this week, sir. And I think Ms Y/L/N was overworked and she forgot to tell you. This report was also reviewed by her before I brought it to you.”

He sighed as the soft thud of the reports thrown onto the tabled, his shoulder slumped down. Nodding his head, Harry permitted his employee to leave.

He never thought he would meet the abyss himself this soon. . . . .

If usually he was so excited to work every day, after the scandal blew up, his passion faded away. His footsteps were getting heavier every day, all he just wanted to do was work from home without having to worry about the office. However, still left something might trigger his temper. As recently revealed, an employee tried to embezzle company's money amidst the uncertain financial state since it was also depending on the clients. The man didn't hesitate to fire them and even blacklisted that person from his companies.

It was no surprise that it triggered Marcel to show up. Every day, there must be something that made his blood boil and Marcel would take advantage. He loved it when Harry lost his temper and let him finish the job. No, he didn't finish them violently, just bluffed a bit. Not a drop of blood was done in shed. Besides, he was also keen to be reunited with Y/N. If before he had scowled at her, this time Marcel could put himself to be gentler on their girlfriend.

How did Y/N react?

She definitely didn’t like it when Marcel was around instead of her Harry. Which made her wonder a little, why Marcel was getting nicer to her every day. Of course, it had her feel strange. She didn’t like it also, Marcel took the time to meet her every day albeit she knew Harry almost lost his temper every single day.

Like today, Allen came back to Erskine with Sebastian. Elle couldn’t make it since she was in Brazil for her photoshoot. They brought another evidence to reveal together after Sebastian got Elle’s CCTV footage and Allen with the confidential transcript from his cyber team. Meanwhile, Y/N was a little worried because it wasn’t Harry that they were having now. She had tried to bring her boyfriend back, but she didn’t understand why Marcel was so strong.

“What will we have first?” Harry, or actually Marcel, pulled his chair after Allen, Sebastian, and Y/N had occupied their seats. While Marcel was eyeing both of the men, Y/N thought it was terrible that she might think this man next to her was actually her boyfriend. Marcel was really behaving like Harry for now, or pretending in this case. But to her, their aura was completely different.

"I'll show you the footage from Elle's apartment. We compiled some footage when Elle had guests in her London apartment where she claimed she lost the video at, as she hardly ever invites her friends there. Unless, they're close friends since Elle mostly stays in Los Angeles for her work." Sebastian said while showing the very first of the footage, "It will take some time because we didn't cut the video."

Marcel shrugged, “It’s all right. I don’t have any work right now.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. How could Marcel say that? It was very clear that they still had a pile of work needed to get done today. Yes, she did know this was important but that wasn't the way to answer it. If allowed, she preferred to return to her office and do her work so she could go home on time. She wasn't really needed at this meeting. But, since Harry wasn't there, she had to accompany Marcel to take action if something happened. That was also what Niall suggested when one night she called him and asked for advice for Marcel. From her too, Niall just found out that the frequency of Marcel being in Harry's body was very high.

The first few minutes the footage was played, nothing was out of place. They could see Elle had a few friends around and all of them did nothing suspicious. All of them were girls, no man to be found. Until, a familiar face was seen entering Elle's bedroom – looked like was looking for something. The behaviour got suspicious when they opened one by one of the drawers there.

“Do you know that person, Sebastian?” Allen murmured, “Looks odd.”

Without averted his gaze from the screen, Sebastian answered the question, “Elle’s best friend, but I don’t see her that often since she isn’t a celebrity.”

“She took out a mobile phone!” Y/N whispered as the unknown woman taking out a phone from the drawer, her back was facing everyone so Y/N couldn’t identify her face. Y/N didn’t know what the woman did; just took out the phone and looking for something – she guessed. The woman did it all looking nervous, she often tilted her head to the door as if in case someone walked in. When she was done, she quickly returned the phone in its original place and rushed out of the room. And that moment made Y/N frowned.

“Victoria?”

“You know her? She’s Elle’s friend.” Sebastian asked, “I just know Elle called her by Vic.”

"She works with our client," Y/N nodded, "Her name is Victoria Selley."

“That’s weird. Why was she sneaking around like that? What did she do with that phone?” Marcel shook his head, “Something’s fishy.”

"And now she was pretending as nothing happened.” Allen murmured, his eyes watching the recording showing Victoria was back in the living room, “Do we need to continued this footage?”

“I think it’s enough. What Victoria did is questionable, that doesn’t sit right with me.” Marcel stared everyone deadly, “Can we go next with the messages tracking?”

"Ah, yes. Based on the report I got, Ms Powell still has an active number for her old phone. But, she doesn't use it anymore. She last used the number over a year ago, and back using it again some time ago just for sending a message. The date is exactly the same as the video was being transferred. While Ms Powell old number is still active right now, the recipient's number is no longer active." Allen spoke while handing Marcel a few papers, "Our team tracked down the number, and it belonged to Jaden Peesel. However, he wasn't the one who sold the video to the pers."

“So now, we have two suspects so far. Victoria Selley and Jaden Peesel,” Y/N averted her gaze to the gentlemen around her, “Do you know if Jaden Peesel is someone related to Elle, Sebastian?”

“No, the name sounds foreign.” Sebastian shrugged, “Elle has no enemies or is arguing with anyone. so, if Victoria is involved, this will be confusing. What’s her motive?”

“It’s because Victoria is my ex-girlfriend.” Marcel worked his jaw, “I didn’t even know both of them are friends. And both of them is my ex-girlfriend. What a coincidence?”

“Did you end everything with Victoria on good terms, Harry? I mean, she could just get revenge and find out that her friend was also dating her ex.”

“We were done for good, I think." Harry, or Marcel, scratched his chin, "I mean, we broke up because she's a terrible person."

Even Marcel thought Victoria was awful

“Well, I should warn Elle about Vic, I guess.” Sebastian looked over Allen, “We’ll have to meet again after this with Elle when there’s another progress. But, this is a good development. We thank all of you, we know how many people get hurt by this rubbish gossip.”

"I recommend you to hire a detective, intelligence, or whatever they called, Allen. Because I'm sure this case isn't as easy as we think." Marcel, "The meeting is dismissed if nothing is discussed anymore." . . . .

“How do you think it’s fine?!”

“Fucking moron!”

“I don’t want to see your face again.”

“You won’t be paid if you can’t bring back at least five clients!”

“Your apologies are nothing to me.”

Y/N didn't know how many days it was. Every day, the atmosphere in Erskine becoming more uncomfortable. She couldn't even count how many employees who applied for resignation or were fired by Marcel only. He was getting stronger and barbaric, and Harry was somewhere she didn't know. It made her scared and worried, of course. She didn't want Marcel to become a permanent residence in her darling boyfriend's body. If Marcel had started acting up, Y/N immediately dragged him back into his office and even locked him from the outside so that employees were at least wouldn't intimidated by him. Even Madeleine has given her resignation letter after he scolded badly at her. Y/N took pains to persuade her and managed to get Madeleine to reinvent herself.

Erskine was getting worse every day, and so was Harry. Every time he was there, Y/N would talk and encourage him, even went to his therapy together. Yet, his emotions were too unstable and made it easy for Marcel to come and go. And of course if Marcel was present, he wouldn’t take the medicine, making her have to rack the brain to find the solutions. Some day without him knowing, she mixed the medicine into his food. Was an easy task since Marcel had been able to trust her although not completely.

Today, both of her and Harry would do their weekly work out. Yes, he was Harry since he was more off than usual. It was nice to have him around, but it made her sad that her boyfriend losing his passion. Since last night, even after their intercourse, Harry was more often alone in the living room staring at his laptop screen. Without needing to be told, Y/N knew he was looking at his company reports which were getting down every day. To be honest, she didn't know if Erskine would survive in the future.

Let's pray for the best, darling… - her inner goddess smiled solemnly

At the gym tho, he wasn’t as cheerful as usual and went straightly to the rings – where he would get some good punches. He seemed very expressed to what he felt through his aggressive moves. His stance was confident, his jaw was solid as the rock even Y/N could see that through his helmet. Yet, the woman still saw the vulnerability of his low state. Harry was the rock from the outside, but the inside the rock could be crushed at any time.

Even Ben seemed overwhelmed by the jab given by her boyfriend.

“Easy, Harry!”

It might not a nice thing to interfere with his movement, but she could see no mercy in his eyes. He was still Harry, she was sure, but his aggressiveness could trigger something or someone else.

It was no wonder he had become calmer after hearing his lover.

“What are you doing here?” he asked after removing the helmet and mouth guard, then leaning to the rope, “You’ve done?”

“Yes, I have.” She hummed, “Just easy on Ben, H. He looks overwhelmed and you were hard on him.”

“Ah, it’s okay actually.” Ben laughed, “You can be a boxing athlete if you’re that aggressive and knock out your opponent quickly.”

“I’m good, Ben.” He shrugged, “But, yes I admit I was kinda more aggressive. Sorry, Ben.”

“It’s okay, Harry. No need to apologise.” Ben shook his head, “I think it’s done for today. You really did good job.”

"Okay, thanks, Ben."

His trainer gave him a salute before stepping out of the ring and leaving the couple alone. Harry was still leaning on the rope, his upper body glistened with sweat – chest rose up and down due to the intense move he did, the gloves still wrapped on his fist.

“How does that feel?” she asked, stepping closer to the ring, her head tilted up looking at him.

“What?”

“The box.” Folding her arms, she perched an eyebrow, “You were very expressive earlier. Must be good to get rid that uneasy feeling.”

He cackled, “It’s a little relief I could reduce my emotions. But, I need a punching bag to finish it.”

“Well then, go clean up your body. Then, we have lunch and maybe buy your punching bag.”

"But, first. I wonder a bit about this room earlier." He sighed before pulling his glove off, "I mean, this area is only used by me albeit I don't rent it myself, hardly anyone uses this." Throwing the gloves away, he leaned back to the rope, his hands dangled together, "How is it like to use this ring for another matter purpose?"

She stared at him dumbfounded while he was wiggling eyebrow, “What?”

“What it feels like to have sex in this ring?”

Kinky much... her inner goddess blinked eyes

Y/N felt her jaw dropped the floor, eyes blinked twice to process what he just said earlier. Whilst Harry just gave her a smug look, she shook her head while grabbing her bag.

"Don't start, H." she warned him, "The most I want right now is grab lunch because this girl is starving right now."

He rolled his eyes, "Uh, all right. We need to hurry since we have to feed a blue whale, don't we?"

"Yes, we do but she's the skinniest blue whale we ever saw." She sneered, "Must be fun to wanting to have sex with the blue whale, huh?" . . . .

Y/N herself must admit how hard Allen work. Well, him and his team.

Now, she, Harry, Allen, and two workers from his firm would meet with Sebastian, Elle, and her lawyer upon the progress of this case. What made her feel uneasy, Allen told her first that the news he was going to reveal would make Harry explode. He didn’t explain what in detail, but this likely would make her darling man loses his temper even further.

What in the world could be worse than Victoria who did it all?

"Okay, last time we're suspicious of Victoria Selley as the one who sent the video to someone named Jaden Peesel whose the number is no longer active." Allen spoke while opened his document, "We've sued any media that spread it and got them took down the video. One of our members succeeded to get the info, that someone named Randell was the one who sold it to them for USD 25,000."

“That’s a lot of money,” Elle muttered, “But why my best friend is involved?”

“She was seen in footage taking your old phone in your bedroom.” answered Sebastian.

"And now, Eric and Douglas will explain to you guys what we've got." Allen sighed, "This will be quite complicated at some point."

“We found that the last activity of Jaden Peesel’s number is in Romford. When we tried to trace him, no one named Jaden Peesel lives there and around there. No activities related to Jaden Peesel. We think it’s just a pseudonym. Even no British citizen named as Jaden Peesel.”

Roman, Elle’s lawyer, stared at both Eric and Douglas, “How is it possible a fake name being registered as the number’s owner?”

“The fun part will reveal at the end, Mr Kane.” Eric said, “We move to this Randell guy. And very coincidentally, that name is also an alias. The media never found out his real name, but he called himself Randell.”

“Is this fucking joke? What even a Jaden Peesel and Randell guy?” Harry scoffed.

“Our insider in mobile networks tried to check Victoria Selley’s calls log, messages, and even email. And we have a surprising name for you, Mr Styles.”

“Are you familiar with Dale Jespersen?”

Bingo.

If Elle, Sebastian, and Roman kept their mouth shut and giving everyone a curious look, Harry perched his eyebrows while Y/N gave Eric a questioning look.

“Yes?”

"We found out that Victoria Selley in constant communication with Dale Jespersen. Before the tape came out until now, we believe. Even some of her messages show Dale sending some money to her after the woman 'did him a favour' .”

Silent. Everyone kept their mouth sealed.

It took a few moments for Y/N to connected the dot. One thought came up yet she really didn't like this, “So, you said that Dale Jespersen–”

“Jaden Peesel and Randell are the same person, and he's Dale Jespersen.” . . Please excuse some errors Talk to me :)

[nike-shawn]

Vampire Shawn Prt. 3

You approach the house, a foreboding, Victorian-style mansion at the end of the street, backing up to a large expanse of dense woods. Shawn is slightly ahead of you, though he looks back every so often to make sure you’re keeping up with his long strides. He has that familiar smile each time your gazes meet. You start to wonder if that toothy grin is hiding something much more sinister.

“Just remember when you go in that they’re not gonna hurt you,” Shawn says, not quite meeting your eyes. “If you feel uncomfortable just let me know, but Nathaniel should have it under control.”

“What will they do?” you ask, trying not to sound as apprehensive as you are.

“Just crowd around you, try and uh— you know, see if you’ll...” Shawn struggles to find the right word. “I don’t know, Y/N. I probably shouldn’t have said anything. There’s nothing to worry about.”

But as you two come up on the stairs to the house, you can feel the anxiety and tension between you and Shawn as he waits by the front door. His smile is absent as he twists the knob.

Immediately, a smell of dying roses overwhelms you. You follow Shawn into the dark foyer and your eyes dart around nervously, waiting for these new vampires that are supposedly going to jump out at you. But no such thing happens. Instead Shawn lightly grabs your hand to lead you through the house as you marvel at the beautiful wood carvings over each doorway and on the stairway railings. Charm oozes from every corner of this house and you wonder if intricacy is something you gain when you live forever— when there’s no need to rush, there’s really no limit on what you could create.

Shawn comes upon the living room and asks you to sit for “just a second: he will be by soon I’m sure.” He sits next to you closely, almost protectively. His eyes are darting around like those of a caged bird. You feel your own anxiety peak as you sense his rising uneasiness.

Then, footsteps. A slender, pale man emerges from the kitchen, a sickly grin on his sunken face. This is what you picture when you think of a vampire. Not Shawn’s tanned, healthy glow— no, this decrepit, scary stereotype of a blood sucker is exactly what you imagine.

You’re suddenly very grateful for Shawn’s closeness.

“Congratulations!” The man, Nathaniel, you presume, bellows. His voice carries through the empty house. “What a joyous day, yes? And you’re so young too, Shawn. So very lucky.” He clasps Shawn’s hand in two of his own. Before releasing his grip, he turns to you. His lips are so red. You try not to think about what he was feeding from that would make his lips such a deep color. “Gorgeous, yes?” He says, addressing Shawn but dragging his eyes up and down your body. Repeats, “so very lucky.”

You practically whimper out a “hello” as he comes forward and wraps an arm around your shoulder. He is just about Shawn’s height, but the chill from his body is enough to make you feel like you’re six feet under him. You’re simply a worm under his shoe. He asks for your name and you tell him.

Shawn must be able to sense your discomfort, because he steps forward and tugs you out from Nathaniel’s arm with a simple grip on your wrist. He then allows your fingers to wrap around his. If you weren’t so scared, you may have freaked out a little.

“We just need pointers on how to be good partners,” Shawn starts. “You said that you had some things to go over with us?”

Nathaniel looks distracted and... hungry? But he replies with, “yes I was hoping to speak to Y/N specifically. Living forever is quite the adjustment. And all while being a human? Dealing with the day to day of the human life?” He looks at you with some kind of pity. “Also, the idea of being a walking pincushion could be slightly troubling to some, so I like to introduce the concept in a more... comforting way.”

Your heart rate picks up and you feel slightly weak in the knees. You alone with Nathaniel? And what does he mean by a walking pincushion? Shawn wouldn’t drink from you for his whole life, right? You look pleadingly at your new mate, trying to say don’t let me go with him.

“Nathaniel, cut it out. You’re scaring her. She’s not a walking pincushion by any means and you know that,” Shawn says briskly. It does little to calm your fears.

“She has to know what she’s getting into.”

“Not by being your personal blood bag.” Shawn squeezes your arm and starts to walk the both of you towards the door.

Nathaniel is in front of you quicker than you can blink. “If you leave before I can get a taste, kiss your privileges here goodbye.” His eyes narrow. “You will have a whole host of new enemies.”

“You know that’s fucking wrong!” Shawn explodes. You cower towards the front door, hand on the knob, poised for a quick escape. Judging by how quickly these two are moving, though, you doubt you’d stand much of a chance. “You’d be killed and put before the judge—”

“No judgement if no one knows,” Nathaniel shrugs. “And no one will know. I will bite her, as I do all new mates, and your life will continue on unchanged. If you leave and I haven’t done so, you’re an outcast. You’ll be alone for the rest of days.”

You don’t realize you’re crying until you put your hand to your mouth and feel wetness there. You’re extremely, extremely overwhelmed. You only just now found out that vampires even exist, and now you’re immortal and some creepy guy wants to bite you? And Shawn is refusing... because why? You can’t possibly mean anything to him at this stage. You wipe at your eyes and muffle a sob into your sleeve.

“Fuck off, Nathaniel. You’re sick.”

Shawn almost shields you as he comes up to the door, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and shuffling you onto the front porch. He’s moving so impossibly fast— somehow you’re running and he’s walking but he’s moving at the pace of a sprinter. You’re to his car before you can blink and the car is started and reversing within seconds.

He has a lot, a lot of explaining to do.

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Shawn has let you have your space.

You’ve been cuddled up in your bed with the covers pulled over your head for a few hours now, not quite sleeping but not quite awake either. You can hear him puttering around in your kitchen— you’re still unsure as to whether he eats real food or not, but either way he’s making something for you. Pots and pans keep clanging and you hear the click of the gas stove coming to light.

He did his best to keep you calm on the drive home. He explained that, yes, mates are supposed to be a blood supply for their vampire counterparts, but it’s very different from being a human blood-drive. It’s a bonding-experience, apparently. You wanted to roll your eyes when he said that. As if sucking someone’s blood could be a powerful relationship exercise.

He also noted that Nathaniel had been perfectly fine before today. Shawn had even seen other people bring him their mates, though he admitted that usually the vampire they were paired with left without them, only to return an hour or so later. He had never seen an issue with it because he trusted Nathaniel enough to never question the process. But now it makes sense.

You’re still shaken up. You just can’t believe that you’re living in the real world while vampires traipse around you, fucking up your perfectly mundane life.

And there was one thing that had been bugging you since the very first night you met him. And as he peeks through his bedroom door, his curls unruly and wild around his face, you decide that you should get up because, yes, you were starving, but also because you’d like the time to talk to him about that thought that keeps poking you whenever you get comfortable with him.

He sets a plate of pasta down at the table in front of you, compete with a cute patterned napkin and silverware that is perfectly lined up on either side of your plate. He smells good as he dips down to place everything down. Whereas Nathaniel’s house smelled of dying roses, Shawn is a freshly bloomed field of peonies.

Your (boyfriend?) mate sits across from you. He’s sad, you think, because he doesn’t have his beautiful smile and his eyes have a sunken, reddened look about them. There’s no plate in front of him, so he just watches you as you pick at the meal. It smells delicious, but for some reason your appetite completely left you once you saw his face. Seeing him like this makes you feel just as bad.

But you have to power through. If you don’t ask this question, you will never be able to get completely comfortable with this man who you’re supposed to be the most comfortable with, supposed to be able to ask anything to, tell anything to. So you sit back in your chair and lay your hands in your lap, faking composure. “Shawn?” You start. He raises his head to look directly into your eyes. “I have had this question. It’s been bothering me for a while now and I just wanna get it off my chest.” He doesn’t say anything, so you continue. “That first night we met, when Freddie left with that girl, was she really your friend?”

“No.”

You nod, appreciating his straightforwardness. “Okay. So you just kind of... saw that I was vulnerable? And that’s when you swooped in?”

“Yes.”

“Right. And on our walk home, when you stopped at those woods for a second, did you ever actually hear a dying animal? Or was it... were you trying to get me to go back there with you? To bite me?”

Shawn pauses here, dropping his gaze to the table as his fingers pull at dead skin on his lip. Your stomach turns. “I’m being completely honest here, yes?” You nod. “I picked you out of the crowd because Freddie left you and I noticed that you were alone. You’re gorgeous: I was hungry. So I asked you to leave with me. Then on the way back, I just felt something was different about you? I don’t know. I liked you a lot. So I tried to get us to go into the woods so I could bite you and blame it on whatever I had heard back there. Would be easier that way then how I did it— finding your apartment, making sure you left with my flannel, convincing you that you passed out. There’s always some memory retention after a bite so I just... I didn’t want you to think I did anything sinister. I wanted us to continue on as friends.”

“Is a vampire bite not sinister?”

“Not how I do it, Y/N, you know that. I only bite to survive. I don’t just go around biting people for the hell of it.”

“I just wish that it wasn’t me.”

Shawn looks like a kicked puppy as he shakes his head and droops back into his seat. You immediately feel bad about what you said, but you don’t backtrack. It’s true— you wish Shawn found someone else to bite, someone else to spend his life with. Your whole worldview is completely warped, now. All because stupid fucking Freddie left you at some gross frat’s Halloween party.

“Y/N...” he starts, but then his mouth closes and he rubs both hands over his face in exhaustion.

“I’m not trying to take this out on you. I’m just so scared and overwhelmed. I barely even know you, and I’m expected to just be fine with spending my whole life with you? I wanted to get married and have children—”

“We can still get married!” Shawn exclaims, uncharacteristically loud and frustrated. “We can still have kids, Y/N. I’m sorry you feel like it wasn’t supposed to be you in this spot, but it is. And if I hadn’t found you at that party, we would’ve met sometime later. Either way, no matter what you or I did, we would end up together because that’s just how it works. I’m sorry. But we’re stuck together. And I know that sounds bad to you but...” he sighs. “But it has always sounded pretty good to me.”

You feel tears gather in your lashline and your vision starts to blur. “I’m sorry, Shawn. I just need more time to figure this out.”

“I understand. I just never want you to think that I’m somehow forcing you to be in this spot.”

“Are you not?”

“No!” Shawn yells again. “No, I’m not! I was forced into being a vampire. I didn’t choose that. I was forced to have a mate. I didn’t choose that. You happened to be my mate— again, didn’t choose that.” He pauses. His voice quiets. “Though if I did, I would still choose you.”

You’re full on crying now. You don’t know what to say. You’re completely confused, feelings of sadness and frustration and maybe even some admiration towards this boy who’s trying so hard to get you to want him swirling through your body. The bite mark at the junction of your collar and neck starts to throb, hot and painful, like he had bitten you all over again. Your fingers go up and touch it. Shawn’s eyes follow your hand and he lets a few tears out himself.

“I’m not doing this to hurt you,” Shawn explains. “I’ve looked forward to meeting you for the past ten years. It just fucking sucks that you don’t want to be here when I’ve waited all this time and have wanted nothing more than just some companionship. That’s all I want. I just want someone to spend my life with. You don’t need to do anything else if you don’t want to.” He says, wiping away a tear making its way down his cheek. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am.”

You sniff and feel waves of exhaustion roll over you. You don’t have the energy to fight anymore, and truthfully you don’t know if you’re even mad anymore. There’s no right answer, here, and all you’re doing is hurting him. You resolve to deal with it later, if at all. Maybe you’ll let it roll off your back. Maybe you’ll let him burrow into your heart. You have no clue.

“I’m going to bed,” You say quietly. Shawn nods. “You can come, if you want to. I’m sorry.”

He looks up in surprise. “You’re okay with that?”

You just take his hand and lead him back to your room.

It’s pitch black. You crawl into bed and feel him slot in beside you. He doesn’t really provide any warmth, but you nestle into his shoulder anyways, swinging a leg over his waist. He hums his appreciation and his hand grips your hipbone. Comfort radiates from every joint in his body, and that throbbing from your bite mark melts away, replaced by a cooling, soothing sensation. You sigh out any remaining anxiety.

“Shawn?”

“Y/N?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m really sorry.”

He kisses your forehead and pulls you closer as you drift off into sleep.

🖤🖤🖤🖤

The two of you treat the next morning as the beginning of whatever this relationship is.

Shawn gently jostles you awake and greets you with a kiss on the cheek. The spot where his lips touch creates warmth that lingers for minutes after. Your body feels better than it ever has as you stretch out your tired limbs. Your mind is sharper; your joints no longer crack; even your hair is softer and your eyes brighter. Shawn also looks fantastic, with a healthy glow and impossibly wider smile. He looks gorgeous, you think. Your hand reaches up to trail along his cheek. He kisses it right before it drops back to the mattress.

“I’m happy to have you as my mate,” you say quietly. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel otherwise.”

Shawn kisses away your apology.

You think you’d be okay spending forever with him.

That’s a wrap! You guys... what did you think? Please send me your thoughts on this because I loved writing it! If you have ideas for blurbs continuing this series, let me know! I love this couple and I hope you guys do too. My requests are always open— happy Halloween! 🎃🖤💋 I wish you all vampire Shawn boyfriends 😚

[calumance]

Wake up, Sunshine - Part 1

Warnings: cursing, anxiety attacks, car accident, mostly fluff though.

Summary: Addy just moved back home after breaking up with her long time boyfriend, and she runs into her high school best friend, who thinks it would be a great idea to set her two friends up, but Addy has a secret that she wants to keep hidden as long as she possibly can.

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: So, I wrote this three part series for #disabled!sos day which came from the brilliant mind of @skinnylukes​. The idea behind this is to encourage more disability-inclusive writing in the 5SOS community. I was honored when Carly asked me to write something for her event and I hope this brings happiness to at least someone who may be struggling right now. I would also like to take a moment to explain the title. It comes from the song All Time Low just released, and it’s all about knowing there is someone out there who loves you just the way you are, which is something that is stressed in this story. I hope you all enjoy, and I love you all so much. 😊

           The bell of the coffee shop rang as I walked through the door, a small part of me regretting coming here, but it had been so long. Off to the left I found the familiar face of my high school best friend, the one who invited me here. She lifted her head and made eye contact with me. Her eyes lit up and she started waving frantically with a large smile on her face. She pulled herself out of the seat and ran towards me, arms stretched out. When she finally reached me, she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me in for the tightest hug I’ve received in a long time. As she rocked me back and forth, expressing how happy she is that I came I thought back to how I got here.

           It was rough break up, I had moved away from home for him, and he went and destroyed everything we had. The pain in my chest wasn’t to go away staying where I was, so I went home. The only place I had to go to was back to my parents, and of course they would force me to go to the grocery store with them. The sun was bright as I stood outside the store, getting a breath of fresh air. Car rides make my anxiety sky rocket ever since that day. My phone had vibrated in my pocket, causing me to pull it out, but as I was looking at the screen, I heard my name being called by a voice that was not my mom’s.

           My eyebrows pulled together in confusion as I looked around for the voice calling my name. Suddenly, Crystal, my best friend from high school was making her way toward me. She was as beautiful as I remember, she had grown into her looks a lot better than I had. We were always together when we were in high school, but after I graduated and moved away, we lost all communication. It was a huge surprise that she would say anything to me since it’s been about eight years since we last saw each other.

           “It’s been forever!” She exclaimed, a man with blonde hair covered by a baseball cap turned backwards following her. “How are you? I heard about what happened.” I held up my hand to stop her from talking about it. The thought about what happened still sends me reeling, makes my heart race, makes me break down and cry. After thinking about how to answer her question, I just shrugged. In the past few years, nothing has been great. How was I supposed to tell someone I was good? “Listen, we should grab a coffee soon, catch up, I miss you.” My heart skipped a beat, I missed her too, we had fun back in the day. “Want to give me your phone number and we can meet soon?” With a nod of acceptance, she handed me her phone and I plugged it in. After the interaction, I found a seat on a bench outside, not wanting to even step foot in the store.

           About two days later she had sent me the official invite to meet her for coffee. She wanted to meet at a little-known shop about thirty minutes away from where my parents live. The thought of having to drive that far made my muscles tense, but still I accepted the invite due to the overwhelming need to reconnect with my old best friend and return to a “normal” life.

             After I grabbed my coffee from the barista, I sat in the chair across from Crystal, a huge smile stretched across her lips. As I took my first sip of coffee, Crystal cleared her throat, “I didn’t know you had moved back.” She sounded hurt that I hadn’t told her. I didn’t tell anyone, just my parents. The reason I came back was too embarrassing. There was no reason I should start running around telling the world I was back.

           My eyebrows raised, and I pulled my lips into my mouth the get every drop of the sweet nectar of the coffee. “I didn’t tell anyone, just my parents since I had nowhere else to go.” A shrug fell off my shoulders as I looked at her. Her face showed concern, the same look my parents give me every time I do or say anything. It was an annoying look.

           She leaned forward and laced her hands around the cup in front of her, “What happened with you and Alex? I thought you two were going to get married, or at least that was what it seemed like when you two moved away from here.” I could tell she was reluctant to ask the question, but there was a look in her eye that told me the question was eating away at her.

           A devilish smiled stretched across my face, “We were going to get married. We were engaged for a year and a half, I had planned almost the entire wedding. That’s when I found out he had been fucking some drop-dead gorgeous redhead from his work for a year.” My shoulders pulled up to my ears as I took another drink of my coffee, wishing it had more of an impact on my thoughts. Maybe I should start putting whiskey in my coffee.

           Crystal’s jaw dropped, hanging open like I had just dropped a bomb. She sat back and breathed out. “Wow,” was all she managed to get out. Silence fell over us for a very awkward minute. My bones ached as I knew she wanted to ask me about the accident, but I wasn’t going to give in. Nothing in this world would make me want to talk about it, unless it was to a doctor. “What are you doing tomorrow night?” She questioned, surprising me a little.

           My throat worked as I swallowed the large gulp of coffee. My eyes darting to my cup, then back to Crystal. “I don’t believe I am doing anything, why?” I sounded skeptical, but I had every right to be. We haven’t seen each other in a long time, and now she’s inviting me for coffee, and probably to something else.

           A smirk appeared on her lips, “My boyfriend, that’s who was with me at the store the other day, and I are having a little get together at our house. I think you should come. There will be drinks, and music, and an overall good time.” How’d I guess? She hasn’t changed much since high school, she was always the one dragging me to things I didn’t want to go to. Even though I never wanted to go to the things she would take me to, I would go because she asked me.

           I guess I haven’t changed either, because I agreed to go to her get together. When she had texted me the details she told me to ‘dress cute.’ I wasn’t even sure what cute was anymore. A normal outfit for me was boot cut leggings and a hoodie. Somehow, I managed to pull out a floor length floral dress I had in the back of my closet. Before I put it on, I sat on my bed, hands clenching the edge of the bed. My heart racing, my eyes flicker to my right leg, or lack thereof. My eyes squeeze shut, trying not to think about the doctor telling me the leg had to go.

             “Your lower leg is completely shattered, there is no way to repair the bones. We’re going to have to amputate.” He pointed to the sheet hanging in front of the white light. The picture caused my stomach to twist. Not a single fragment of bone in my leg was connected anymore. The fragments that were in there were nowhere near each other. It was as if I was looking at bone soup inside my leg. The tears welled in my eyes, I wasn’t sure if it was from the new or from the pain. All I knew was that I wanted all of this to be over, I wanted everything to go back to normal, and that just want never going to happen. A sob escaped my throat, no one there to comfort me beside the doctor who just told me that he was going to have to cut my leg off.

             All I wanted to do was scream, but if I screamed, my parents would come running. I wanted my leg back, I wanted to not be living with my parents. Why did all of this have to happen to me. The palms of my hands pressed against my eyes and I held back the scream sitting in my throat. Nothing was going to get better if I just sat here in my misery. So, I reached over and grabbed my robotic looking prosthetic and secured it. Even though the dress called for some cute shoes, I pulled on a pair of converse. Converse easily hid the fake foot on my right side, flats could never do that. With a large sigh, and a heavy weight taking its place in my stomach, I headed towards the address Crystal sent me.

           After I got out of the Uber and it drives away, I paced, calming my heart rate from the anxiety attack I get every time I sit in a car. Anger takes over most the time, because I know car rides are a necessity, my heart never fails to run rampant. “Come on heart, chill out.” I mumbled to myself, shaking my hands in front of me to stop the nerves. It took a while, but I was finally able to compose myself and walk towards the front door. Reluctantly, I pressed the button for the doorbell and I took a step back, waiting.

           When the door finally opened, I was a bit disappointed to not be greeted by Crystal, instead it was the blonde-haired man she referred to as her boyfriend. A smiled stretched across his face, “You must be Crystal’s friend. She said your name was Addy?” He had an accent, but with such a short sentence, I couldn’t quite place my finger on it. I nodded, still a bit shaky from the car ride over.  “Come in, come in.” He waved his hand towards himself, and I hesitantly walked through the door.

           He shut the door behind me and I looked around. It was a beautiful house, a house that I would actually considering killing to live in. “My name’s Michael, I’m Crystal’s boyfriend. She’s told me a lot about you.” Hopefully not everything. He held out his hand waiting for a handshake. A heavy breath caused my chest to rise as I placed my hand in his, him giving it a hefty shake. “Everyone is out back, follow me.” He started walking, and I followed behind him, covering the slight limp.

Since the accident, I’ve gotten walking nearly down. Most of the time I walk normally unless I’m tired, or something causes me to not think about how I’m walking. Running, on the other hand, is different. The only way I get my mind off things is running, and even though I do it every morning at five, I still can’t get the motion right. The doctor told me that eventually I would move like it was my normal attached leg, but it would take some time. Thinking about that while running frustrates me, when is that time going to come? All I want to do is feel normal again, but because I can’t get the motion of running down, I feel like that may never happen.

Crystal let out a squeal as Michael and I passed through the threshold into their backyard. My feet stopped, freezing me in my spot. While still holding onto her drink, she threw her arms around me, kissing my cheek. No, she wasn’t drunk, that’s literally just the kind of person she is. I couldn’t help but smile, which felt weird, smiling hadn’t been my thing in a long time. “Do you want a drink? We have all kinds of stuff. Oh! I need to introduce you to everyone.” She grabbed my hand and pulled hard, causing my to almost fall flat on my face.

“Crystal!” I exclaimed, a little louder than I should’ve. Everyone looked at me, I swallowed. Her eyes were wide as she got closer to me, “Crystal, I can’t,” I licked my lips trying to find my words. My eyes closed, ignoring the ones on me, “You can’t just pull me like that.” When I opened my eyes, her hand was over her mouth, realizing what damage she could’ve caused.

           She slowly removed her hand, keeping it a few inches from her face, “Oh my god, Addy, I’m so sorry. Did I,” My head shoot back and forth stopping her from finishing her question. No, she didn’t hurt me, no she didn’t break anything, but she could have. “I’m so sorry.” My chest felt heavy as I thought about how bad of an idea is was to actually come here. She must’ve read my thoughts because she wrapped her arms around me and pleaded for me not to leave.

           My chest fell as I let out a sigh, “It’s fine, I’ll stay. You said you wanted to introduce me to everyone.” She pulled away from me and nodded, a perfect smile stretched across her face. As her hand found mine again, she waited for me to take the first steps and then she directed me where to go.

           We stopped in front of a tall dark-haired man with a square, manly face, but a sweet smile. “This is Ashton, Ashton this is my friend Addy, we were best friends back in high school and we recently reconnected.” Ashton waved at me, and I waved back. He was standing next to a sandy blonde-haired man with a scruffy beard and a smile that could make any girls knees weak. “That’s Luke, and the girl in the pool behind him is his girlfriend, Sierra.” Luke lifted and hand and held it out, asking for a hand shake.

           We shook hands, and he held onto it for a second, “Is your name actually Addy, or is that short for something?” Luke asked, the same accent as Michael’s falling from his lips.

           “Adeline, my full name is Adeline, but not a single person in the world calls me that, not even my parents. Pretty sure they regret giving me that name.” Luke laughed and nodded in acknowledgement. Behind Luke, I hear the water of the pool swash around and I see a tanned, bleach blonde-haired man climbing out of the water, using the side as leverage. He turned my way and I think I stopped breathing.

           His tanned skin twinkled in the sunlight, creating a glow around him. His tattooed chest flexed as he grabbed the towel not far from him. The muscles in his biceps flexed as he placed the towel over his face and neck, patting his skin dry. He dropped the towel and started walking towards us, water still dripping from his black swim shorts. He smiled a smile that could brighten a dark room. My heart was beating fast, and suddenly my mouth was incredibly dry.

           “Calum! This is my friend Addy, the one I was telling you about.” The one she was telling him about? I finally peeled my eyes off the man coming towards us and stared daggers at Crystal. She caught sight of my look and shrugged.

           He stopped a few steps away from us, letting the water drip, excusing himself as the water dripped toward my dress. “I’m sorry, I guess I should’ve dried off a bit more before coming over. Maybe I’ll go change before we meet properly.” Every word I knew got caught in my throat as he walked past me, flashing me another bright smile. I felt like collapsing, but suddenly Crystals grip on me, and her quiet giggle caused me to come out of my thoughts.

           “Crystal, can we have a quick chat. Somewhere private?” She nodded, still trying not to laugh at how ridiculous I’m acting. She pulled me inside the house, and into a bedroom I assumed was hers and Michael’s. She motioned for me to sit on the bed, and I did so, “Who was that?”

           She sat next to me hard enough to cause the bed to bounce. “That was Calum. He and Michael met a long time ago. He’s one of my favorite friends of Michael’s, he’s super sweet.” Crystal took a long drink of mixed drink she had in her glass, “And I also told him a lot about you. He’s really excited to meet you.” Excited to meet me? Oh, hell, what did she tell him? Did she tell him about my accident? Did she tell him about my ex? Does he want to meet me because I’m a nice charity case? Crystal’s eyebrows pulled together in anger and confusion. My eyes widened as I realized I asked these out loud. “I only told him the things that were necessary. He doesn’t know about your accident, he doesn’t know about Alex, he just knows that you’re one of my best friends, who just happens to be drop-dead gorgeous.”

           A sarcastic chuckle escaped my chest, “Crystal, you were, and always will be, a thousand times prettier than me. Also, I’m a freak. I only have one and a half legs.” That seemed to upset Crystal, the look on her face told me she wanted me to shut up. So, I did.

           She set her drink down on the table and then turned towards me. “You are not a freak because you lost your leg in a car accident, and you are definitely prettier than me. He seemed genuinely interested in you when I was talking to him yesterday. I think he wants to get to know you more. You should give him a chance, yeah?” Although I was terrified, I was willing to give him a chance.

           When we made it back outside, Calum was already back. He was wearing a pair of black joggers, a black sweat shirt, and a beanie that covered his blonde hair. Crystal brought me up to him and he smiled, and my heart pounded. “Sorry, Calum, we just went to the bathroom. Girls travel in pairs, you know.” She’s always been good at covering my anxiety. Maybe that’s why we were always such good friends.

           He pulled his lips down and waved his hand, “It’s not a problem. Anyway, I hope I didn’t get your dress wet. It looks very nice.”

           Even though he complimented me, I suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious. “It’s not a problem,” I cleared my throat trying to hide my complete and utter nervous breakdown. “It’s not that special of a dress, I think I got it at Target.”

           He chuckled, a smirk crawling across his lips, “That’s a good looking dress for something you found at Target.”

           My eyes wandered down to my dress. Why was he talking so much about my dress? Was he just as nervous as I was? “Thank you.” I choked the words out. Why was this so awkward. I caught sight of Crystal behind Calum. She was making motions to urge me to go for it, to talk to him. My cheeks flushed red, hoping that no one else saw the motions. I wasn’t sure this was the right thing to be doing this quietly after a horrible break up. I tucked a lock of my hair behind my ears and looked at the ground.

           He shifted awkwardly in front of me, putting his hands in his pockets. “Do you want something to drink?” He finally asked me, breaking the awkward silence. After I nodded, he smiled and motioned for me to follow him. He passed by me and I looked at Crystal who was holding up two thumbs. Even though Crystal had a good feeling about this, I didn’t.

           Calum grabbed the liquor and started pouring. “Mind if I make you my specialty?” I shook my head back and forth, it’s been a long time since I drank. The accident was caused by a drunk driver, and even though I don’t drive, the idea still scared me. He poured a few hard liquors into the class and then added a splash of pineapple juice on the top. He flicked a straw into the drink and I bit my bottom lip. Considering how much alcohol he had poured into that glass, it wasn’t going to be long before I felt it. “Tell me about yourself, Addy.”

           I took the drink from him and I felt a knot in my throat. What did he want to know? “What do you want to know?” My eyebrows pulled together, I needed to stop asking my internal thoughts out loud.

           “Anything. Where are you from? What are your hobbies? What do you do for a living? Favorite animal? You know, all of the ‘hey we just met’ kind of questions.” He cracked open and black cherry white claw and took a drink.

           The ice in my drink clinked as I stirred it with the straw. “My full name is Adeline Davis, I go by Addy. I’m pretty sure my parents stopped calling me Adeline when I was really little. I’m from the same place Crystal is from. We went to high school together, we were best friends, until I had to go a ruin it and move to a different state with this guy I was madly in love with. That didn’t end up well, so now I’m back in town. I didn’t have anywhere to go, so I live with my parents. I have a degree in graphic design, but since I’ve been back I haven’t been able to find a job in the field quite yet. I haven’t been back long enough to really look. Um, yeah. That’s about it.” I took a sip of my drink and made a face. It was incredibly strong.

           He laughed at my face, my stomach involuntarily did a flip. “Sorry, sometimes I’m a little heavy handed. I’m sorry to hear that your last relationship didn’t work out. That’s cool that you’ve known Crystal for so long. I’ve only known her as long as Michael and she have been together. Four years now?”

           I raised my eyebrow, taking another drink, getting a little more used to the amount of alcohol. “She’s been with him half as long as I’ve been gone.” And as long as it’s been since I was in the accident. “We kind of lost contact while I was gone. It was kind of a toxic relationship. I lost contact with a lot of people that I deeply cared about.” The mood between Calum and I got a bit somber, so I stood up straight and smiled, “But I’m here now, and I’m reconnecting with my friends and my life, so it’s not all that bad.” Minus the fact that my life will literally never be the same again.

           Calum smiled with me, a nod. “I’m glad you’re here, too.” He raised his eyebrows and walked past me, back into Michael’s backyard. I couldn’t move, what did that mean? After a couple of seconds, I turned on my left foot and went back out into the backyard. Calum had taken a seat next to Michael and Crystal. Crystal motioned to sit in the chair next to her. Why did everything have to involve sitting? I took a deep breath and walked over to the seat and sat down, immediately crossing my left leg over my right one to hopefully hide the metal bend in my right leg.

           We spent the whole night talking, the best part of the whole thing was that my accident hadn’t been brought up once. Now it was time to go home, and I pulled my phone out to call an Uber. As I waited, I talked to Crystal, but when my phone buzzed, telling me the Uber was there, Calum caught me. “Uh, sorry,” He laughed nervously. “I didn’t get a chance to get your phone number. I’d like to hang out with you again.”

           Honestly, I was confused. Why did he want to hang out with me? This was probably the most awkward evening I’ve had in a long time. He smiled and held his phone out, the number pad opened. If I hadn’t needed to catch my ride, I would’ve protested, but instead, I grabbed his and typed in my number. After I handed it back to him, I waved and made my way out the front door towards the Uber. My palms became sweaty as I grabbed the handle and I had to take a deep breath before sitting in the car. Maybe hanging out with him more would make the interaction less awkward?

Part 2 | Part 3

[prouvaireafterdark]

Temporary Wounds (3/3)

WE DID IT KIDS! SHE’S FINALLY DONE! Special thanks to @angsty-aliens and @el-gilliath for the virtual cheerleading :)

Part I | Part II

Also on AO3

***

He’s at the Pony again, five shots too many into what was supposed to be a relatively chill night, but, well, it’s also the eleventh anniversary of the day Alex left for basic training and Michael is feeling sorry for himself.

It’s been weeks since Alex and He Who Shall Not Be Named broke up, but Alex still hasn’t told him why. Michael can’t shake the feeling that that’s important somehow, that maybe the reason they broke up has something to do with him, but he sure as hell isn’t about to ask.

So that leaves him here, on the yearly reminder of one of the shittiest days of his life, drowning his sorrows at the Wild Pony like he’s done just about every year running. He’s idly dragging his finger around the rim of his whiskey glass when Maria appears in front of him.

“So,” she starts, leaning forward over the bar on her elbows, “Alex texted me.”

His ears perk up a little at the mention of Alex, but when she doesn’t elaborate, Michael responds, “Congratulations?”

She rolls her eyes at him. “He’s looking for you.”

“Why?” Michael asks, leaning forward in his seat, his interest piqued.

“He didn’t say,” she answers. “Are you avoiding him? Because I can tell him I haven’t seen you if you want.”

“Why would I be avoiding him?” he asks.

“I don’t know, but you’re sitting in my bar staring down the bottom of a bottle for the first time in weeks so something is clearly up with you,” she says.

He grimaces, almost missing the days when he didn’t have friends who noticed things like that.

“Plus,” she continues, “if he’s texting me to find out where you are, you must not be answering him.”

“Not on purpose,” Michael says, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He tosses it on the bar in front of him. The screen is cracked to hell and bits of glass have already started chipping off entirely.  

“Jesus, how’d that happen?”

“Fell out of my pocket when I was climbing the ladder out of my bunker,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes. He’d fallen asleep down there after trying and failing to discover a way to bring Max back. He’d slept worse than usual, still dead tired when he climbed up the ladder to get something to eat, and his reflexes were too slow to save his phone. It was the cherry on top of an already shit day. “So much for being telekinetic.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’m a psychic who didn’t immediately realize her not-boyfriend was in love with her best friend,” she says, offering him an ironic smile.

“You know, it really doesn’t.”

They’ve reached the point where they can joke about their failed romantic experiment, but now’s not really the time.

“Alright, well, if you don’t want me to tell Alex where you are, speak now or forever hold your peace,” she says. “Maybe he can cheer you up.”

About thirty minutes later, a hand falls heavy against his back. Michael jumps, immediately on the defensive before he turns and sees a familiar pair of brown eyes staring back at him.

“Alex,” Michael says. Alex’s hand lingers on his back and there’s a whole new kind of tension thrumming through his body.

“Hey,” Alex replies, smiling.

He looks beautiful tonight, his hair tousled in a way that makes Michael just want to run his fingers through it and hold on. He’s wearing his leather jacket over a dark green henley that looks soft to the touch. His mouth moves, but all Michael can register is his sudden, overwhelming desire to kiss him.

“Uh, Guerin?” he hears Alex ask, that gorgeous smile dimming just a little as his brow creases and Michael snaps himself out of it. Alex isn’t Michael’s to look at like that. Not anymore.

“What?” Michael asks, eyes refocusing on Alex’s.

“Did you get my texts?” he repeats.

Instead of answering, Michael gestures toward his busted phone.

“Oh, wow,” Alex says, his hand falling from his back to inspect the phone. “How’d you manage that?”

“Dropped it,” he sighs, not wanting to reiterate the longer version of the story.

“From what, the Empire State Building?”

“Hilarious,” Michael comments, taking the phone from him. He puts it back in his pocket. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

Michael watches Alex’s throat as he swallows, looking a little unsure of himself. Michael takes a sip of whiskey as a distraction while he waits for Alex to say something and when he does he notices Alex’s eyes narrow just a little.

“How many of those have you had?” Alex asks, gesturing toward the glass.

“Why, you looking to catch up?” Michael asks, a little defensive. He knows why Alex is asking and he’s really not looking for an intervention tonight, especially when he’s actually been doing really well at not spiraling into an abyss of alcohol and acetone dependency lately.

“Guerin,” Alex chides.

“Manes,” Michael replies in kind. He knows he’s being childish, but he didn’t come here to get judged.

“I thought you were easing up on drinking,” Alex persists.

“I am,” he snaps. “Just not right now.”

“Why?” Alex asks. “Did something happen?“

Michael laughs humorlessly, and before he can stop himself he asks, “You forget what day it is?”

Alex thinks about that a moment before it clicks. Michael can’t even look at him as he feels the sting of how much less that day seems to have meant to Alex. “Oh. You remembered the date?”

“How could I forget?” Michael asks, picking at the denim frayed at his kneecap. He’s not sure if it’s the liquor or the ache in his chest that makes him add, “Worst day of my fucking life.”

He supposes that, after Caulfield and Max, that might not exactly be true anymore, but it certainly was at the time. Sure, he’d been beaten bloody and bounced around from one shit home to another all his life, but Alex leaving him to go play soldier with his daddy? Shit, that had hurt worse than anything the New Mexico foster system could throw at him.

“Yeah,” Alex breathes, and something in his voice makes Michael look at him. His eyes are soft and full of regret. “Me too.”

Michael thinks about all the pain Alex has lived through, the trauma they’ve shared and the loss they haven’t and it kills him as much as it fuels him to think that Alex might be telling the truth.

“Alex…” he whispers, but the word hangs between them as they watch each other, caught in this fragile moment of honesty. “Look, I’m not, like, falling off the wagon or whatever, if that’s what you’re thinking. I just…” he trails off, searching for the right words.

“Just what?” Alex prompts him, not angry or judgmental like Michael expects.

Michael shrugs halfheartedly. “Needed to take the edge off, I guess.”

Alex doesn’t say anything, not right away. Instead, he slowly reaches for Michael’s hand—the left one picking nervously at his frayed jeans—and covers it with his own. Michael lets out a shuddering breath as Alex starts to stroke his once-ruined knuckles with his thumb.

“I’m sorry,” Alex says at last.

“What for?” Michael asks, voice rough.

“For putting you through that,” he answers, quiet and sincere. “I know it doesn’t mean much now, but… I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”

Tears prick at Michael’s eyes, but he blinks them hastily away. He will not cry in front of everyone and their mother in the Wild Pony, especially not over something so viscerally personal. He nods and clears his throat and hopes that’s enough.

Alex seems to understand. He gives Michael’s hand a final squeeze before he pulls his own away.

“So,” Alex starts abruptly, eyes shining in the dim lighting, “other than wrecking cell phones, what have you been up to lately? I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

Michael’s grateful for the change in subject. He can feel himself relax more and more, the shadow of what happened a decade ago lessening the longer Alex talks to him. It’s a reminder that Alex didn’t stay gone, that he’s here, and Michael wishes he’d realized sooner that that was exactly what he needed.

When Michael talks about his research, Alex even sits patiently and listens to his scientific ramblings. That’s one of his favorite things about Alex that he’s discovered since they started being friends—how fucking smart he is. Even though they come from two different sides of the STEM field, he’s amazed at how much Alex is able to keep up with.

Eventually, Maria rings the bell for last call and as tired as Michael is he can’t help feeling a little disappointed that their night needs to end.

“Guess we should head out,” Alex says.

“Guess so,” Michael agrees.

“Can you drive?” Alex asks.

Michael bites his lip and thinks about it. He probably could make it home without incident, but he’s had a lot to drink tonight and he’s pretty exhausted. He doesn’t want to make Alex drive him home though. Maybe he’ll get a cab or sleep it off in the bed of his truck til he sobers up a little more.

“Your hesitation says no,” Alex interrupts his thoughts, making his decision for him. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Michael hears his name through the sleep-soaked fog clouding his mind and feels hesitant fingertips tickle his cheek before the warmth of someone’s palm settles over his neck.

When Michael opens his eyes to see Alex staring back at him, he feels his heart stutter, just a little. He’s sitting in the passenger seat of Alex’s car, the door ajar to make room for Alex to stand next to him. He must have fallen asleep on the ride.

“There you are,” Alex says, an amused quirk to the set of his mouth as he pulls his hand away. Over Alex’s shoulder, Michael sees the cabin instead of his Airstream. “For a second there I thought I was gonna have to carry you inside.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you,” Michael replies drowsily.

Alex rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling too when he says, “Come on, Guerin, inside,” and nudges him out of the car.

The ground shifts a little beneath his feet when he steps out of the car, but he rights himself before he does something embarrassing like face-plant in Alex’s driveway.

“You good?” Alex asks, eyeing him like a hawk.

“Yeah,” Michael brushes him off. “Just need some water.”

Once they’re inside, Alex greets Buffy, who is happily waiting for him near the threshold, and hangs his jacket up by the door before heading straight for the kitchen. Michael can hear the water from the tap running while he toes his boots off by the door after giving Buffy an adequate number of head scritches. He follows that sound into the kitchen to find Alex standing by the sink.

“I’d offer you ice, but the machine’s broken,” Alex says as he hands over a glass of cool water.

Michael takes it from him gratefully and leans back against the counter next to Alex.

“Want me to take a look?” he asks before he takes a sip.

“Maybe in the morning,” Alex answers, and there’s something about the way he says it that makes Michael feel warm. He realizes he’s never spent a night in Alex’s cabin before. It feels like he’s crossing an unspoken boundary tonight, like Alex is leading him over it.

“Am I crashing here then?” Michael asks, still not sure why Alex brought him here when he could have just brought him to the Airstream.

“Well, you were asleep, so I had to make an executive decision,” Alex shrugs. “I figured instead of dropping you off home now and then driving back to give you a ride to your car in the morning, I could just drop you off at your car on my way into town tomorrow. You don’t have anywhere to be early, right?”

“Nah. I could’ve taken a cab, though, saved you the trouble,” Michael points out.

“And how were you gonna call it?“ Alex counters.

“Touché.”

They stare at each other for a moment while Michael drinks more water before Alex says, “I’ll just get you something to sleep in. Be right back,” and disappears down the hall.

When Michael finishes his water, he sets the glass on the counter and goes off in search of Alex. The cabin’s large, by Michael’s standards anyway, but he finds Alex’s bedroom with ease. The door is open, tempting him inside.

Alex is standing in front of a dresser near the bed, rifling through its contents. He freezes when he hears the old floorboards creak beneath Michael’s weight.

“Hey,” he says, turning around to face him, a faded black t-shirt and a pair of flannel pajama pants in his hands. “These should fit you,” he says, tossing the bundle of clothes. “There’s also a spare toothbrush in the bathroom.”

“Thanks,” Michael says once he’s caught them and takes a few steps closer to him. “So where do you want me?”

Michael watches the way Alex’s gaze lingers over his mouth, his neck. Alex wets his bottom lip before saying, “What?”

“To sleep,” Michael clarifies, hiding a smile. The hope he hasn’t let himself feel in so long simmers under the heat of Alex’s gaze.

“Oh, right,” Alex says, running a hand through his hair, snapping out of whatever thoughts he was having about Michael’s mouth. “I’d offer you the bed, but my leg won’t thank me if I sleep on the couch.”

“Probably more comfortable than my mattress anyway, so I’ll take it,” Michael says.

“Oh, it’s definitely more comfortable than your mattress,” Alex laughs. “That thing’s like cardboard.”

“Hey, don’t knock it too much,” Michael says, thinking of all the times he and Alex put its durability to the test. “That cardboard’s been with me through a lot.”

“I remember,” Alex says, flushing slightly.

“Hard to forget,” Michael adds, and he’s sure he doesn’t imagine the hungry look in Alex’s eyes when their eyes meet.

Alex clears his throat and looks away. “We should probably, uh, go to bed now.”

“Yeah, probably,” Michael agrees, even as he imagines what it’d be like to press Alex up against the dresser and get lost in him the way he used to. He won’t, but it’s a nice thought. “Goodnight, Alex,” Michael smiles and starts walking toward the door.

“Night, Guerin,” Alex smiles back. “See you in the morning.”

Michael heads into the living room to find Buffy sleeping on his bed for the night. Buffy, being a beagle, is not an especially large dog, but she’s somehow managed to stretch her body so long that she’s taking up half the couch.

Michael has half a mind to head back into Alex’s room—“Look at her, she’s too sweet to move, we’re just gonna have to share the bed, Alex, we’d be monsters to disturb her”—but he’s playing the long game and that’s just on the wrong side of desperate.

Instead, he nudges the dog closer to the edge of the cushion until there’s enough room for him to lay down. Buffy doesn’t seem to mind and he slides in next to her and pulls the blanket from the back of the couch to cover them both.

When Michael wakes up the next morning it’s to the smell of dark roast coffee wafting in from the kitchen. Buffy’s gone, he notices, presumably to chase birds in the yard or whatever it is dogs do in the morning. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he gets up to investigate.

Alex is standing in front of the stove, fully dressed, with one hand on his hip and a spatula in the other.

“Morning,” Alex smiles at Michael over his shoulder. “Coffee’s on the counter and eggs’ll be done soon.” He jabs the spatula toward the other end of the counter where a mug sits next to the coffee pot.

It’s so… domestic, Michael feels a little like he’s in the Twilight Zone, like he’s just walked from one dream into another where he and Alex are together and Alex is cooking him breakfast just because he can. It’s a far cry from the cold sheets he usually woke up to first thing in the morning when they used to hook up. It makes him feel off-kilter, vulnerable in some indescribable way, like someone looked deep inside his brain and plucked out a fantasy he never even knew he had.

“Hey, you okay?” Alex asks softly, turning around to get a better look at Michael.

“Yeah, sorry,” he says, snapping himself out of the daze he’s in. He heads to the coffeemaker and pours himself a cup. “Morning,” he adds when he remembers.

“How’d you sleep?” Alex asks.

“Like a baby,” he says, not entirely honest, but it makes Alex smile for some reason so he’s not about to contradict himself.

“Yeah, you looked pretty cozy this morning,” Alex says, voice light and amused. “I’ve never seen Buffy let anyone besides me spoon her like that, you should feel very special.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, wondering if Alex’s ex had a hard time getting Buffy to warm up to him. The thought gives him a sudden burst of smug satisfaction. He watches Alex cook, hiding his smirk behind the rim of his mug.

“Mhmm.”

“So what’s all this for?” Michael asks as he watches Alex try to flip the eggs without bursting any yokes.

“What do you mean?”

“This, breakfast,” he says, gesturing to what Alex is doing. Alex looks at him with an unsettled look and Michael’s quick to add, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, but… people don’t usually go through this much effort for me when I crash on their couch.”

“Well that’s… sad,” Alex frowns. “It’s just eggs, Michael.”

The use of his first name makes his heart jolt. Alex rarely calls him that, and when he does the situation is usually much more intimate than this. Michael concentrates a little harder on Alex’s body language, searching for any hint of what Alex is really thinking.

He’s holding himself a little stiffly, fidgeting more than usual. When Alex catches him staring, he smiles at him a little too wide. If Michael were anyone else, he probably wouldn’t have been able to catch it, but it’s suddenly plain as day. Alex is nervous about something.

“No, it’s not,” Michael says quietly, his stomach suddenly in knots himself. Alex deflates a little, like some of the air’s gone out of his sails. “What’s going on, Alex?”

“Can we eat first?” Alex sighs.

Michael doesn’t answer, immediately running through every possible thing Alex could want to talk to him about. It’s then he remembers that Alex was actively looking for him yesterday, but never told him why.

Alex pushes a plate into his hand and encourages him over to the kitchen table. Michael takes a seat, places the eggs in front of him, but he doesn’t touch them. Has Alex been waiting all night to talk to him about something? Why?

“It’s big, isn’t it?” he asks when Alex sits next to him, not across from him like he expects, with his own plate. Is Alex okay? Did he find something even more nightmarish than usual in the Project Shepard files? Fuck, is he being relocated?

“You should eat first, your eggs’ll get cold,” Alex says nudging Michael’s plate toward him with the tip of his finger before taking a bite of his own food. It’s as much of a confirmation as he needs.

“No offense, Alex, but I don’t give a damn about the eggs right now. Can you just tell me what you want to say?” Michael pleads. “I’m kind of freaking out.”

Alex sighs and puts his fork down beside his plate. “Please don’t freak out,” he says.

“Okay, I don’t know how they taught you to calm people down in the Air Force, but saying ‘please don’t freak out’ is maybe the worst thing you can say,” Michael complains.

“Okay, yeah, that maybe wasn’t the best way to lead,” Alex laughs self-deprecatingly. “It’s nothing bad, I swear—unless I’ve massively misread things, but I don’t think I have. There’s just been something on my mind lately and I’ve been waiting for the right time to talk to you about it.”

“Why didn’t you last night then?” Michael asks. Alex’s reassurance has assuaged some of his anxiety, but none of his confusion. “That’s why you were looking for me, right?”

“You were already drunk when I found you and if we were gonna talk about this, I wanted both of us to have clear heads,” he explains. “Figured it would be better to wait until morning.”

“Okay,” Michael says, shifting in his seat. “Well, I’m sober. Hit me.”

Alex takes a deep, fortifying breath before asking, “Do you remember what you said when I told you I broke up with my boyfriend?”

Whatever he was expecting Alex to say, it certainly wasn’t that. Michael swallows and tries to guard his expression.

“I asked why,” Michael answers. “You never told me.”

“No, I didn’t,” Alex agrees. “But that’s not all you said. You said he reminded me of what I was like in high school.”

Michael remembers. “You said that was part of the problem.”

“Yeah, it was.” Alex wets his bottom lip with his tongue and angles his body more toward Michael before he speaks again. Michael tracks the movement, feeling the sudden desire to lean in and taste, but he lost that right a long time ago. “Do you remember what I was in high school?”

“An irreverent mall goth with questionable fashion choices?” Michael quips, eyes still on Alex’s mouth, but he looks up when Alex laughs. He likes the way his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“Well, maybe, but not the answer I was looking for.”

Emboldened by Alex’s mood, he guesses, “A sexy twink with an eyeliner fetish?”

“Michael,” Alex admonishes with a tilt of his head, but the smile’s still there. Michael’s stomach flips happily at Alex’s continued use of his first name.

“Alright, tell me then. What were you in high school?”

Alex sobers up a little and says, “In love with you.”

It’s not the first time Alex has told Michael he loved him in high school, but it takes Michael’s breath away all the same.

“Alex,” he whispers, but Alex raises his hand to stop him.

“Wait, just let me say this,” he says.  

Michael nods for him to continue, heart in his throat.

“I’ve been… reclaiming myself these last few months. So much of my life has been decided by my father and I needed to figure out who I am now that he’s gone, so I made some changes. I got new clothes, a new boyfriend, let my hair grow out a little. I finally felt like me again, but I was missing something. I was missing you.

“I thought maybe we could be friends, that it would be enough for me if I could just have you in my life somehow, but… God, near the end of our relationship, every time I was with him, I just kept thinking about who I was eleven years ago and how much that person loved you. And you know what I realized?”

Michael shakes his head, not trusting his voice.

“That’s the one thing that hasn’t fucking changed in the decade I’ve known you. It’s the only part of me my dad could never destroy, no matter how hard he tried,” Alex says, eyes shining with unshed tears. “You’re at the core of me, Michael. You always will be and, as much as I love being your friend, I want more. I want everything.”

Michael’s not quite sure who moves first, but the next thing he knows his hands are in Alex’s hair and he’s locked in a kiss so intense it leaves him breathless. God, he’s missed this so much—the taste of Alex in his mouth, his hair soft as satin against his skin. Michael feels alive for the first time in a long time, but before he gets too carried away there’s something he needs to say. Michael pulls back from the kiss reluctantly, smiling softly when he sees how absolutely wrecked Alex looks.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” Michael confesses, untangling his fingers from Alex’s hair and reaching for his hand instead. He takes a deep breath and braces himself before he continues, “But if we do this, we do it for real, okay? No more hiding. No more running away. I can’t do that again, Alex. I won’t.”

“No more hiding, no more running away,” Alex reassures him. “I’m done pretending you’re not the most important person in my life. I’m all in if you are.”

“I am,” Michael nods.

“Really?” Alex asks, an excited smile teasing at the corners of his lips. “You really want to do this?”

A smile of his own breaks onto Michael’s face. “Never been more sure about anything in my life.”

Alex beams at him and moves back in to kiss him. Michael sighs happily into it, losing time to hot press of Alex’s mouth, to the warmth of his hands  against his scalp.

Their eggs get cold, but, well, who fucking cares?

“You’re at the core of me too, you know,” Michael whispers, hours later, when Alex is resting between his naked thighs, his head pillowed on his bare chest.

Michael can feel Alex smile against his skin. “I know,” he says, and presses a kiss to his sternum.

[cherryrogers]

The One Where Loki Gets Drunk.

Loki x Fem!Reader

Contains: Fluff.

Synopsis: After the countless number of times Loki had taken care of you while drunk, it was finally time for the roles to reverse.

__________________________________________

“I am Loki, of As-asgard, and I am burdened w-with glorious p-purpose.”

“Oh... my god.”

Loki, to put it frankly, was wasted. He had fulfilled his promise of retrieving the strongest Asgardian alcohol and bringing it back to Earth, however, you weren’t expecting him to show up already completely drunk on your doorstep. The guy really hadn’t held back. In fact, he still had the bottle in hand.

“I thought you were bringing the drink back here and then getting drunk, what happened?” You asked, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside.

“Well,” He started. “That was the plan. B-but then, I found Thor! I told him about the plan, and then he insisted that we got drunk together - which we did!”

You shook your head in amusement, wrapping your arms around Loki’s neck. “Well, it’s nine o’clock now. What would you like to make of your drunken night?”

He paused, lowering his head and knitting his brows together in thought. Nearly thirty seconds passed before you realised that Loki most likely wasn’t thinking about what he wanted to do anymore, and his blurred mind had probably ventured off elsewhere.

“Are you hungry?” You snapped him out of his trance. “You were in Asgard for quite a while, do you want me to make you a sandwich?”

Loki scoffed. “I don’t need food, mortal. I am a God! The God of frickin’ Mischief.”

Damn, apparently drunk Loki was pretty cocky.

“Alright, well how about you go and get changed? And put the bottle down, please.” You said, earning a overdramatic eyeroll from Loki before he plodded into your shared bedroom.

Honestly, you were excited to see this side of Loki. Perhaps he was a stupid drunk, or a funny drunk, or a poetic drunk? You pictured all the possibilities in your head as you quickly made up Loki’s sandwich and put it onto a plate.

Loki had never mentioned any horrendous drunk stories about him from Asgard before, and it made you wonder if he ever really got drunk. Maybe he didn’t like drinking, which you could honestly understand. Not a lot of people do, as it’s only really fun when you can stand up by yourself and you don’t end the night with your head over the toilet - you knew that from experience - an experience Loki had to guide you through. You wouldn’t be surprised if that terrible night put him off alcohol completely.

However, it seemed to not have scarred him so much, as you walked into the bedroom to see your drunken boyfriend... staring at himself in the front camera of his phone?

“Loki?” You questioned, putting down the plate onto your dresser. “What are you doing?”

“Do I look like this all of the time?” He slurred slightly, continuing to look at his reflection.

“Uh, pretty much, yeah. Unless you’re playing one of your stupid tricks where you shape-shift into a different person and scare the shit out of me.” He played that trick on you way more than you’d wished.

Loki groaned. “It’s ironic, r-really. I’m a shapeshifter, I can choose to look however I desire, and I’ve chosen to look like... this.”

He was joking, right?

“You can’t be serious.” You approached him, placing a comforting hand on his upper arm. “You’re literally the epitome of beauty, Loki. Sometimes, it takes me at least a minute after looking at you to process just how beautiful you are.”

Slowly, Loki turned his head towards you, his eyes glazed over slightly. “You think I’m beautiful, (Y/N)?”

“Of course I do.”

“I’m s-sorry.” He sniffled, making your heart ache. “It’s just nobody has ever called m-me that before...”

“Oh, babe, don’t cry.” You said softly, placing both your hands on his upper arms and running them up to the sides of his face. “Loki, it’s okay. I’m only telling the truth, there’s no need to be upset.” Wow, you made him cry. Who knew Loki would be such an emotional drunk?

After you wiped his tears away with your thumbs, you stood back and let him calm down for a bit. “Now, can you please put the bottle down and eat your sandwich?”

With a slow nod, Loki shut off his phone and his tears seemed to stop. At least, for a couple of seconds.

“Hey, do you want a drink? Some water may- oh, lord.”

You knew what he had meant to do - put the bottle down on the dresser, and then chuck his phone onto the bed. However, the poor poor guy seemed to get the two mixed up. Your eyes darted between the large, dark stain on your white bed sheets and Loki, whose eyes looked to be teary again at the mess he’d accidently made.

A single tear trickled down his cheek once again. “Oh, (Y/N)... darling, I’m s-sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, gorgeous.” You sighed. Quickly grabbing the sandwich from its plate, you handed it to Loki. “You go and sit on the couch and eat, I’ll change the sheets, alright?”

The god was hesitant, yet his jumbled thoughts couldn’t find the words to argue with you. After giving Loki the sandwich, you pecked his cheek comfortingly and watched as he slowly made his way through to the living room, leaving you with stained bed sheets to change.

Maybe getting Loki drunk wasn’t such a smart idea. You thought it could be fun, because most of the time, getting drunk is great. However, if you had the knowledge that Loki was an incredibly emotional drunk who was going to end up crying at the smallest things, you maybe would have held back on suggesting the idea. The night was still fairly young, so perhaps his mood would lift within an hour or so.

Once you had changed the bed sheets and thrown the stained ones into the washing basket, you entered back into the living room to check on your boyfriend, hoping you could somehow lift his spirits.

His back was turned to you as he was stood at the kitchen counter. You walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his torso, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. After doing so, you peaked over his shoulder to see what he was doing. Well, attempting to do. Loki had the pack of butter in one hand and was, again, attempting to butter a slice of bread and make another sandwich.

“This d-damn butter won’t spread.” Loki huffed.

“Loki, you’re... you’re trying to spread butter with a chopstick?” You couldn’t help but chuckle as he eyed the chopstick in his hand confusedly. Detaching yourself from him, you opened the drawer to your left and pulled out a butter knife. You then held it up to Loki, grinning. “Here, this might do the trick.”

“Ah.”

He dropped the chopstick and took the knife from your hand, allowing him to successfully butter his bread before slapping a piece each of ham and cheese onto it to complete the sandwich. Although his eyes were still a little puffy from crying, they soon widened in delight after taking a bite of the sandwich.

“You know...” Loki spoke before swallowing what was in his mouth. “Next time, we should both get drunk.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “I’m not sure that that’s the smartest idea.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re both... idiot drunks.”

An offended expression took over Loki’s face. “What? M’not an idiot! That’s rude.”

“No, you’re not an idiot.” You smiled, stepping towards him and snaking your arms around his neck. “But, you did just try to butter bread with a chopstick, so that makes you an idiot drunk. And I said both of us, because I most definitely am one too. I’d probably be dead without you stopping me from doing something horribly stupid while drunk.”

You weren’t lying - you’d had way too many near-death experiences that you could barely even recall, and of course, Loki saved you from all of them. Now, the two of you drunk at the same time? It would only be a recipe for chaos.

“But just imagine,” Loki smirked, finishing his food and wrapping his arms around you weakly. “You, me, way too much Asgardian alcohol, drunken love making-”

“Loki.” You giggled. “Honestly, that doesn’t sound so bad...”

“So it’s settled!” He stepped back from you and clapped his hands excitedly. “Next weekend, we’re getting drunk and naked.”

“Next weekend? We can’t-”

The god pressed a finger to your lips, shaking his head. “Nope, no take-backs.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing there was no point in even trying to reason with him - maybe Loki would wake up the next morning with a different opinion on the idea, considering he’d have a horrible hangover.

His stupid smirk re-emerged on his lips. “Speaking of sex-”

“No.”

You stifled a laugh as Loki stomped his foot childishly. “But I want to...”

“But you are also drunk, keep it in your pants ‘til you’re sober.”

The god paused for a moment, staring at you in thought until he sighed, cocking his head to one side. “Is it because I ruined the bed sheets?”

“No, of course not.”

“... it is because I ruined the bed sheets.”

“What? I-”

“You’re annoyed at me for ruining the bed sheets and now you won’t fuck me.”

You scoffed, surprised that Loki was managing to keep a straight face throughout the whole conversation. “I don’t care about the bed sheets! And what happened to the love making? Now you’re upset I won’t fuck you?”

“Fine.” He sighed, tossing his hair over his shoulder. “I don’t need sex, I need another sandwich.”

You watched as he reached back over the kitchen counter for two more slices of bread to butter. Before he could, you grasped the butter knife and held it away from him, earning you a glare.

“You’re gonna make yourself sick, Loki.” You said, pointing the knife warningly at him. “You didn’t have to deal with me throwing up last time I was drunk, so I’d prefer not to have to deal with you throwing up tonight.”

Loki sighed, muttering something about you being ‘very lucky’ if you had to deal with him and making his way over to the couch, plopping himself down on the furniture lazily.

You followed, sitting yourself down next to him. The moment you hit the couch, Loki turned his body around and laid across both cushions, laying his head on your lap and gazing up at you. Absentmindedly, your hand went to his soft locks and you wound your fingers through them, unknowingly making Loki melt under your touch.

For a while, you both just basked in the silence; Loki getting increasingly tired as the minutes passed, and you admiring the sight of him doing so. His eyes kept fluttering shut, despite his attempts to keep them open. Loki would be passed out soon, but not before you could have one last conversation with the drunk version of himself.

“I don’t think I like being drunk.” He spoke up, his voice only a little louder than a whisper.

“Why’s that?” You replied, still entangling your fingers in his hair, causing occasional sighs of content from Loki.

“I feel so... out of control. Don’t like it - probably won’t do it again.”

“What about our drunk, naked weekend of love making we had planned?” You asked sarcastically.

Loki let out a soft chuckle, dimples appearing in his cheeks. “Oh, yes - I almost forgot about that. After n-next weekend, no more drinking.”

You leaned down to kiss his cheek, causing Loki’s heart to race. “Whatever you want, Loki.”

Around ten minutes after saying that to him, Loki was fast asleep. You noticed as his breathing started to slow to a regular pace, and there was no longer the small smile on his lips indicating to you that he was enjoying you playing with his hair. Drunk Loki was done for the night, and while it was a rather amusing experience, you were glad Loki would be back to his normal self in the morning.

Carefully, you lifted his head from your lap and slipped out from under him, laying him gently back across the whole couch. You grabbed a blanket from your bedroom and draped it over his curled up form, pulling it up to his chin. For a moment, you stood and admired Loki - it was probably the most peaceful state you’d ever seen him in, and it was beautiful.

Beautiful. You thought back to the start of the night, when Loki got emotional over you calling him it. If only he could see what you saw - the most heavenly being you’d ever laid eyes upon, inside and out.

You quietly walked over to him and leaned down to press a final kiss to his forehead, not noticing the corner of his lips upturning slightly.

“Sweet dreams, gorgeous.” You whispered to him, before leaving the living room and switching off the lights, leaving Loki in peace.

Perhaps, Loki would never be able to understand the way you see him, or the way you felt about him. Maybe the alcohol just caused him to overreact a little, making him cry when he didn’t feel like crying at all. Either way, you were definitely going to remind him of his beauty more often.

And who knows? Maybe Loki would get the drunk weekend that he wanted, and maybe it would be horribly chaotic. However, you weren’t really concerned about the idea anymore, because you knew Loki wouldn’t let anything bad happen to either of you.

He was the God of frickin’ Mischief, right? Not technically an Avenger, but your own personal hero.

[thecozywhaleshark]

Art

A/n: DING DONG I AM DEAD

Warnings: SMUT. FILTH. Unprotected sex (condoms are boring in imagines but please be safe everyone), swearing. close your eyes and look away just filth. Take a shot of holy water when you're done here. 

Word Count: 2,252

Summary: Losing your virginity to Kihyun

Kihyun was everything you could have hoped for in a boyfriend. He was caring, honest, classy, and not to mention, stupid hot. You had been dating for a few months now, and while things had gotten heated, you had never let him do more than feel you up. Tonight, you were determined to change that. There was a local art show happening tonight, a night walk lit by fairy lights with tents along the path where you could stop in and see what each artist had to offer.

It was your date night, so you made sure you looked cute. You wanted to look desirable if things were going to go the way you hoped they would tonight. You wore your tightest pair of jeans, heels, and a shirt that showed off just a little more than classy would recommend. When he saw you, you had seen his eyes heat with want, and after he hugged you in greeting he held you at arm's length, and almost breathed in appreciation and astonishment. “How did I get so lucky?”

You laughed and slipped your arm through his, “I could ask the same thing.” He smiled at you so warmly, and off you went.

Your date night was a lot of fun, you held hands and sipped coffee, roaming and admiring the art. You purposefully made yourself known to him, swinging your hips a little more if you happened to be in front of him, bending over just enough for him to be able to see down your shirt, sending him random smirks over your shoulder with a flip of your hair and a wink, trying to see if you could get a reaction out of him.

He had gotten quieter and quieter as the night went on, but you noticed his gaze never left you, and you felt yourself heat every time he gave you that intense stare as you flirted with him.

At the end of the date, as he walked you to your door, your goodbye kiss became more heated than usual, and when he pulled away, you whimpered.

He’s breathing heavy as he looks into your eyes. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you want this, or that you don’t. If you don’t, I need to leave right now. But if you do, and I have a feeling you do the way you’ve been flirting with me all night, making me want you…” his voice drops an octave and he’s close to you. “Then tell me right fucking now.”

In response, you turn and open your door, pulling him back to you in a kiss as you stumble through.

“I want you Kihyun. I want you tonight.” You look him dead in the face. “I want you to be the one who takes my virginity from me.”

His face softens and he reaches out to cup your face gently. “Are you sure jagi?”

You nod, determined. “I’m sure.”

Then he’s kissing you, pulling you to him and yet keeping you moving at the same time until you reach your bedroom. You’re reaching for his shirt, and once it’s off he’s reaching for yours, and you’re trembling but you can’t help how much you want this, how good, how right it feels for him to be touching you.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous jagi, so beautiful...all for me.”

His hands trail down your sides, admiring the way you look, how much you are reacting to even a simple touch from him. Your breathing gets heavier as he traces the curves of your body, whispering absolute filth in your ears as he praises your body.

“Do you taste as sweet as you look, dirty girl?”

You know any good girl would find it revolting, but it’s turning you on so much you can feel yourself soaking through your panties while he kneads his hand over your bra.

As soon as he has your shirt all the way off, he’s kissing you everywhere he can reach while you’re still in his arms.

He sucks harshly, kisses wetly, sucks hard again, lowers a millimeter, and makes his way all the way down your neck, across your throat, and over your collar bones. He occasionally goes back up to kiss his marks softly, before returning on his way down – leaving every purple and bitten mark in his wake screaming mine.

At this point he reaches behind you for your bra and you let him, letting him pull it off and throw it to the floor, continuing his marking process. Your hand presses into his hair, guiding him, keeping him there, while your other grips his shoulder, so hot under your palm.

When he pulls away, his mouth is swollen but he looks at his artwork satisfied – an ongoing bruise of a trail, swirling down your neck and chest, that would let everyone who saw it know that you were his.

He traces over it with his fingertips. “Look at you baby, all marked up by me. Do you like it?”

He turns you around and you see yourself in the vanity mirror.

“Personally, I think this is the most beautiful piece of art I have seen today.” He murmurs, brushing your hair off your neck so he can press another kiss to it and you melt.

The gentle moment doesn’t last long, for as soon as you’ve seen yourself, he is turning you around again, and your eyes are only on him. He kisses you harshly, his tongue easily slipping in, as he presses his hands to your waist and pushes you to walk backward.  

“Has anyone ever seen your pussy baby? Have you ever let anyone?”

He backs you up until the backs of your knees are pressing against the bed and with a gentle hand he pushes you back until you’re leaning back, resting up on your elbows.

You shake your head as he reaches for your jeans and pulls them down your legs. He’s on his knees at the end of the bed, thumbs gently stroking up the insides of your thighs, prompting.

“Are you going to let me see?”

You’re nervous, but when he presses his mouth in a hot kiss to the top of your thigh and waits, you find yourself slowly opening up your legs. A million thoughts are running through your mind as to why he wants to be that close to you – it can’t possibly look nice, it probably doesn’t smell nice, and for pete's sake, it’s your vagina who would want to go eye to eye with it?

You’re blushing so hard you can’t look at him when you let him spread your legs and you’re surprised when he moans low in his throat and immediately pushes your legs apart farther.

“All for me? You’re so pretty, baby.” His voice is low as he leans over your heat and blows lightly, making you shiver, and you feel yourself heat more under his gaze.

He leans back slightly and reaches out, almost reverently, to drag one finger down your slit. You find yourself moaning at the contact, not realizing how much you had wanted it. He rubs at your hole gently and without warning slips his finger in.

You gasp, the feeling so foreign but so good.

“Oh baby, so wet for me already?”

he pumps his finger in and out a few times then twists and curls it up and you’re panting at the sensation. All so new, all so good.

He smiles so sinfully at your reaction. “All this for just my finger? You needy girl. You want me that bad huh?”

You whimper as he speeds up his pace. “Well, you’re just going to have to wait a little longer baby.” And then he’s pressing his mouth to your heat and making the sensations you're feeling so much worse, but also so much better.

He’s so skillful you’re on the edge in minutes, and when he coaxes your orgasm from you, he moans at the mess you make.

“You taste so good baby, you dirty girl, look at how wet you are. Did I do that to you? Did I get you so dirty?”

He licks a broad stripe up your sex and you cry out from overstimulation.

“Do you think you can do it again?”

Then he’s sucking at your clit, pushing his fingers back inside you, eating you like his life depended on it, coaxing you towards another orgasm.

When you come again he continues right through it, and you’re begging- begging for him to stop, and also for your next release, all at the same time.

“I think you’ve got one more for me baby,” he hums as you clutch at anything, his hair, the sheets, his shoulders, your body, in desperation. He’s holding you down, pressing your thighs apart, torturous in his persistence to keep you beneath him and feeling everything.

You’re a sweating, keening mess by the time he pulls his fingers out of you and lifts his mouth from your sex. Hands in your hair, you watch him as he unbuttons his pants and pulls out his length, your eyes widening at his size.

He strokes himself slowly, smirking at you. “You like the look of my cock baby?”

He leans over you and presses himself to your heat. He begins to grind, slowly coating himself in your wetness and somehow it feels almost better than what he was doing to you before, building your anticipation.

“I want you so bad baby. Do you want me too?”

You make a soft mewling sound in the back of your throat, and Kihyun thinks he might come right then and there. But he has to make this good for you. The perfectionist inside him won’t let it be anything less.

“I need to hear you say it, jagi. Do you want me inside you?”

He feels so good the way he’s rubbing himself against you and you’re sweating, wanting this more than you’ve wanted anything before.

“Kihyun, please. Take me baby.”

He hums and grinds down harder, making you cry out. “Are you sure jagi? Do you want me to take your innocence, right here, right now?”

You find the strength to find his face and pull him to you, kissing him hard.

“Yoo Kihyun. I want you. Inside me. Now.”

His eyes dilate and he almost growls when you bite him to confirm what you want… then he’s pushing inside you, and you cry out at the sudden intrusion. The stretch hurts, but the pain is quickly overtaken by pleasure as he plays with your clit as he slowly inches his way inside you.

Once he is all the way in he holds still, letting you adjust to the new feeling.

“Are you okay?” he whispers, kissing you softly.

When you swallow and nod, he begins to slowly move, picking up his pace after a few slow strokes.

Your fingers dig into his back as he rocks into you, the experience so new and mind-blowing you don’t want it to end. You pull him closer to you, enjoying the feel of him, enjoying being so close.

“Do you like that baby? Do you like me inside you?” he grunts, nipping at your collar bone as he picks up his pace and hits deeper inside you.

“Do you like the feel of my cock destroying your innocence? Are you ruined baby? Ruined just for, and only by me?”

You moan and dig your nails into his shoulder, urging him on. All pain is forgotten as you focus on him and only him.

You wrap your legs around his waist and he moans, biting your shoulder.

“You want me so bad don’t you baby. How much more do you want? What can you take?”

You’re whimpering with your pleasure, and he rocks harder into you, relentless in the pace he sets.

Feeling himself close, he beings to rub your clit, going harder and harder until you’re coming undone around him. He works you through your orgasm, and then he’s thrusting harder, becoming uneven as he chases his own pleasure and comes inside you.

You’re a wreck, shaking with the remains of your pleasure, as he rolls off you and pulls you against him, kissing softly over the hickeys on your neck and chest.

“Kihyun…” you breathe, and he stops to press a kiss to your hair. “That… was... wow.”

“Are you okay?” He whispers, and when you nod, he kisses you softly. You are still catching your breath when he suddenly smirks and trails his hand lightly over the side of your body, gently cupping your breast and kissing you deeply.

He begins to massage it, and you moan into his mouth.

“Such a responsive girl, just for me?” He nips at your lip and his hand begins it’s decent downwards again.

Your breath hitches as he finds your sensitive mound and begins to rub. You look at him, wide-eyed.

He raises an eyebrow and smirks, pressing kisses between the valley of your breasts.

“What, you thought we’d stop there? Oh, no baby. Now that I’ve gotten you into my bed, I’m going to ruin you for any other man.”

He continues to kiss down your body, and when he’s back at your heat, you’re crying out, clutching at his hair.

He wrecks you for the rest of the night, over, and over, and over again, until the only word you seem to know, to say, to breathe, is Kihyun.

[smcc212]

Damaged Goods

Negan x abused reader (Female)

Warnings- fluff, emotional and physical abuse, soft Negan(for all of you that prefer a more dominant arseholey Negan, I don’t blame you I get it!)

Word count- 1,561

A/N- Mark is based on my ex-boyfriend so if it seems like I put a lot more detail into describing him and what he does than I do with Negan and the reader it’s because I have experienced that in real life. Also, the sentences that are in italics are the readers thought inside her head, just to be clear.

You were working later than usual making a list of supplies that The Sanctuary was low on. It had been a while since Negan had gone on a run or to any of the communities, so the list was longer.

You knew your boyfriend, Mark, would be angry at you. He liked to come home to you having made his dinner, he made it clear to you that he didn’t like you working late, you had the scars and bruises to prove it.

You tried your best to hurry up when Negan appeared. “Well, hello, darlin’.” He smirked.

“Hey, Negan.” You said hurriedly as you rushed to finish. You were late and knew your boyfriend would beat you but it wouldn’t be that bad if you got home sooner rather than later.

“What’s the rush, sweetheart? I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” Negan winked at you making you roll your eyes. Everyday Negan would come here and talk to you, tell you his awful, yet somehow still funny, jokes, and flirt with you.

“I need to get home, I’m late.” You stated, finishing off the list before ripping it and pushing it to his chest. “Here.” You turned to walk away when Negan grabbed your arm.

“Late for what? You don’t have a ‘check-in, check-out’ time. Come on... I just wanna talk to you, please?” He said feigning a pout.

“Negan, I enjoy talking to you, I do, but I need to get home. Mark will be mad and I don’t want things to get any worse than they’re going to already.” You pulled away from Negan to speed-walk home.

“Wait, wait, (Y/N)!” Negan shouted as he caught up with you. “What do you mean things will get worse? What does he do when he’s mad?” Negan’s eyes were filled with genuine concern.

“Nothing, Negan. Just... Just leave it, okay?” You mumbled then walked away before giving him a chance to respond.

***

“Mark! I’m home!” You shouted as you walked in, if you didn’t let him know you were there he’d be furious.

“What the hell took you so long?! I had to make my own dinner, you slut!” He stormed over to you, bringing his fist, forcefully, against your cheek. You fell to the floor, landing on your side. You tried to get up but he kicked your side repeatedly. You tried to say as quiet as possible, knowing that if you didn’t Mark would be even angrier.

The metallic taste of blood in your mouth and throat was disgusting, but mercifully, Mark stopped. “You know I don’t want to do that, you made me. I love you, (Y/N).” He cooed before he walked away, leaving you on the floor a coughing, spluttering mess.

***

The next day, you made Mark breakfast and cleaned up. You weren’t working today so you won’t need to leave the house, which was good because you had bruises around your neck that were in the shape of Marks' fingers. You hand a cut on your face from Marks ring, you were pretty sure you’d cracked a good few ribs

As you cleaned up some more you heard a knock at your door. Your stomach tightened, you carefully walked towards the door and opened it slightly. Negan was standing there, a big grin on his that suddenly dropped when he saw your face. His brows furrowed and he pushed the door open further.

“What the fuck happened to you?!” Negan growled, he was pissed off.

“Calm down, Negan. It’s not that bad.” You said trying to soothe him.

“Calm down?! Have you seen what you look like?!” Negan hissed. “Is this what you meant?” His tone dropped.

“W-w-What?” You stuttered.

“When you said things would get worse?” His voice was soft. “Did Mark do this to you?” His voice grew stern.

“Just leave it, Negan. You’ll only make things worse.” You could feel tears beginning to burn your eyes.

Negan walked into your room, shutting the door behind him. He gently grabbed your hand and lead you into the bathroom, you were standing in front of the mirror. “Look, look at what he’s done to you.” Negan sounded as if he was on the brink of tears.

You began to cry, Negan wrapped his arms around you gently squeezing your side, making you whimper. Negan pulled back. He looked you in the eye before gently pulling up the side of your top. His jaw dropped as he saw your side.

“When did this happen?” He asked, tears beginning to stream gently down his face. You reached your hand up and, using your thumb, wiped his tears away.

“Don’t cry, Negan.”

“Just answer the question.” He said moving your hand away from his face.

“H-he kicks my side every night, but it was really hard last night after work. I think h-he cracked m-my ribs.” You choked out, watching as Negan tried to fight back tears.

“Have you seen Dr Carson?”

“No...” You mumbled, looking away. You were embarrassed that Negan saw you like this, as a victim. You never want to admit you were a victim, but that’s what you were.

“Why not?” Negan looked hurt by you not going to the Dr.

“I didn’t want anyone to know, and I don’t think I’d have enough points for everything I need.” You looked at the floor, embarrassed.

“Come on, baby girl.” Negan cooed holding out his hand for you to take.

“What if Mark sees?” You panicked. “He’ll kill me, he already doesn’t like me talking to you.” Your breathing began to pick up.

“Baby, calm down. It’s okay, I’ll deal with him.”

“No, no, don’t hurt him.” You realised what Negan was going to do. You couldn’t let Negan kill him, as much as you hated Mark, you knew no one else would want you.

“What? Why are you protecting him, have you seen your throat? He’s okay with killing you.” Negan looked depressed at you wanting to save Mark.

“I don’t what to be alone,” you whispered, almost inaudible.

“You won’t be alone, you’re amazing. He didn’t know how lucky he was.” Negan grabbed your chin, gently making you look at him.

“Easy for you to say, you have, what? Five, six Wives? No one will want me, Negan. I’m damaged goods.” You couldn’t hold back more tears that poured down your face.

“That’s not true! You’re amazing and smart and brave and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Did Negan Just say I’m the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen? No, he’s just trying to be nice, right?

“Come on, you’re going to Dr Carson, now.” Negan grabbed your hand leading you to the infirmary. On the walk there you were terrified that someone would see you, or more specifically, Mark would see you.

***

You sat there on the examination table, Dr Carson looked horrified and gave you a long list of medication to help you. “(Y/N), I know you don’t want to hear this but, you can’t stay with Mark, he wouldn’t do think to you if he loved you, and deep down you know it’s true.” Dr Carson said, his voice soft and kind.

“I know,” you began crying again. “I just don’t wanna be alone.” You sobbed. You felt Negan gently pull you closer to him.

“You’ll always have me, baby girl.” Negan said in a comforting tone. He looked at Dr Carson. “Could you step out for a minute.”

“Of course.” Carson complied, stepping out and closing the door behind him, giving you and Negan some privacy.

“Negan, you don’t need to pretend that some else will love me.” You whimpered looking down, you had fallen for Negan a long time ago, but you knew he’d never feel the same.

“He didn’t love you, but...” He took a deep breath. “But... I do...” He looked you in the eye, he looked nervous.

Why?

“Y-you do? How?” You were taken back, there was no way he could love you. He had five drop-dead-gorgeous wives, why would he want you.

“Because you are amazing, and I would drop everything for you.” He breathed out. “I want you to be with me, stay with me, not him. Please?” He pleaded.

“Okay...” You were so quiet you were shocked that Negan heard you. A smile spread out across his face. “I’ll stay with you, but... I can’t be with you...” you were starting to cry again.

Oh, come on! There’s no way I can cry more!

“Why? I’m not mad at you, I just wanna know.” He said reassuring you that you’d be okay.

“I love you, Negan, I do, but I can’t share you. If I was with you, I’d be your only girl.” You said looking into Negan’s eyes, he looked a little... relieved?

“If I get rid of them will you be with me then?” Negan asked, almost begged, you. A look of fear but I tiny glimmer of hope in his eyes that magnified when you started to nod your head.

“Yeah,” You said smiling. “Of course, Negan.”

He placed his lips onto yours and kissed you. Hard. It was the most lovely kiss you’d had for a while. You placed your hands behind his neck and deepened the kiss when the door open.

You broke the kiss and turned around. “Mark!”