#and pits all over my cheeks from teenage skin problems

[lottieratworld]

feeling rly unsexy and ugly rn idk why

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: Tangerine accidentally hurts your feelings.

Prompt: friends to lovers - "oh shit, are you crying?"

~ here you go @yourlocalnegroko, i hope you like this 🤍 ~

The hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses dance around the small, dimly lit bar in south London. The warm lowlights cast a shimmer over the faces of the customers and in a corner booth, you, Lemon, and Tangerine sit like you do every other thursday. 

You swirl your straw in your glass, your eyes distant as you look at the lime floating in your drink. This afternoon had gone to absolute shit. The man who had hired you had snapped, abruptly ending the hit you'd spent months preparing, so by now you're a bundle of frustration and exhaustion.

Tangerine, always the more observant Twin, had caught on to your foul mood. He's known you since you were teenagers and it has always been easy to read the tension in your shoulders as well as the tightness in your smile.

He leans against his seat and drapes his arm behind where your head is as he looks at you with a hint of a smile. "Why don' we all get piss drunk and knock yer frown upside down," he says a little sarcastically as his voice takes on an overly cherry quality and he pushes his index into your skin. 

You smile weakly and Lemon, who is sitting across from you, joins in. "Psh, fuck sloshed, bruv," he grins and turns to you. "You, me, Tan, and some  'Bohemian Rhapsody.'" he asks and looks to the small Karaoke stage, wiggling his eyebrows.

Tangerine scoffs and sniffs, clearly hating Lemon's suggestion.

You chuckle a little. "No one in here needs us butchering Queen, Lem."

Tangerine nods in agreement with you as he sends his brother a stern, disapproving look. He looks at you again and still sees the sadness in your eyes, his heart clenching. 

"Bullocks, you're a bunch of pricks. Alright, fine, no singing," Lemon raises his hands in surrender and then takes a sip of his beer, looking suspicious. He leans forward and points his index at you. "But hey, how about ya tell us what happened, huh?"

"Nothing." You answer too quickly.

Tangerine crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. "Nothin? Ya think we're stupid, Y/n/n?"

You hesitate, then sigh. "Fine. I lost that job—the one in Munich, y'know? The one that would pay thousands? The old prick said he wanted someone more experienced."

"What an arse," Lemon chimes in.

Tangerine nods, his eyes softer. "Yeah, seriously, what the fuck? The fucker needs to learn some fuckin' respect. You're an amazin' assassin and he's what, some dick who can't solve his own problems?" he huffs and sips his beer, "he the prick with that comb-over we saw last week? Who does he think he's foolin', huh?”

You laugh at the mental image, but then your smile falters.

Seeing your reaction, Tangerine pushed further, his tone careless as his anger and annoyance built. "Honestly, ya don't need a git like him— if he wants some arsehole to finish the job, let him finish it, perhaps it's for the best. If he thinks he can find someone better, let 'im,"

Tangerine means well. He always does but he's never been the best with words. You're a little confused by what he means and in your vulnerable state, everything sounds bad. Your expression shifts from amused to hurt.

"Someone better? Why would that be for the best?" you ask, misunderstanding him as your voice stays quiet, "This job meant something to me. I needed the money and it was humiliating that he made me feel inadequate in a field I've worked in for years."

Tangerine frowns, feeling defensive. "Pardon? I-I didn't mean it like that—"

But it was too late. The sting of his words, even if unintentional, had stung and you can't help that forming pit in your stomach. You turn away, warm tears falling down my cheeks as my mascara stains my cheeks.

Lemon, noticing the shift, opens his mouth to say something, but Tangerine beats him to it. He moves quickly, his heart hammering in his chest. "Shit, are ya crying?" he mumbles and wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. 

You stiffen for a moment, still hurt by the implications in his words. Finally, you relax against him and allow the tears to fall as they stain his shirt.

"Darlin', I didn't mean to make ya feel like you're somehow less good than us or any other man in the field—you're amazin', better than most," Tangerine whispers, his voice hoarse with sincerity. "I was tryin' to say that that absolute cock is gonna have a hard time findin' someone as qualified as ya—I, fuck, I just wanted to see you smile."

His confession causes a warmth in your stomach and you sniff, holding him tighter. You're quiet for a moment until you finally speak. "I do realize that now, Tan. I'm sorry I misunderstood. It's not your fault. It's just, everything feels so wrong now."

Tangerine continues to hold you. "Ya don't have to carry it all by yourself, ya know? We're here. I'm here. And I promise, you'll find a new job sooner rather than later."

"Ya can always work with us again," Lemon suggests nonchalantly, popping an olive into his mouth as he looks at you and his brother, a knowing look drawn across his features.

Tangerine brother nods, pulling away with his hands still near your hips. "Ya know we love when we work as a trio—like old times," he winks and he feels like he won when he finally sees you smile.

You sniff and wiping at your tears with your hand, feeling stupid for jumping to conclusions. Your smile widens as Tangerine wipes his thumb under your eyes.

"Can I drive the car?" you ask him cheekily, knowing how much Tangerine loves his car and how possessive he is over her.

Lemon barks a laugh as Tangerine's eyes narrow. However, Tangerine can't bring himself to deny you anything so he nods. "Of course," he whispers.

When you disappear into the bathroom to touch up your smeared makeup, Lemon turns to his brother and smirks.

"You're so fuckin' whipped."

Tangerine's cheeks turn crimson but he doesn't deny it.

tags: @tansgirlfriend, @brokeaesthetic, @earth-elemental18, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld, @longlivedelusion, @thewinterv

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Eren Yeager x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] Another oldie. Shout out to Mica for beta reading this for me. [ SYNOPSIS ] You return home from college to housesit while your mother is away. Everything seems rather mundane until you have a chance meeting with a strange yet alluring man. [ WORD COUNT ] 4.1k [ CONTENT ] Dark content, modern AU, Eren's fucking awful in this, manipulation, stalking, masturbation, dubcon bordering on noncon, degradation, vaginal fingering.

“Thank you so much for watching the house, little one,” your mother said, pinching your cheek.

An action that would usually leave you aggravated was welcome intimacy. College made you miss everyone. Mundane things became beacons of light in a darkened sea of melancholy. It was hard not to internalize the pain, the loneliness that plagued you and turned your stomach into a bottomless pit.

Even as you stood in front of your mother and her kind eyes, you couldn’t help but think of how eventually you would leave this isolated exurb and return to hell itself. You’d wrestle with complicated coursework, cry in the communal bathroom when your roommate refused to stop blasting Post Malone, and sit through lectures with lecherous professors that asked you “to go on walks and discuss poetry.”

“Of course, you think I’m gonna turn down a chance to throw a massive party? I’m trying to relive my teenage fantasy.”

She rolled her eyes and gave you a hug.

“I transferred some money into your bank account for food. Please don’t spend it all on junk.”

Bags of Cheetos danced through your mind.

“You got it,” you lied.

She grabbed her suitcase and floated out the door, leaving you to your own devices. You watched her drive off through the front window, a puff of exhaust lingering as she sped off to the airport. You strode into the kitchen and rummaged through the fridge. The only contents being two jars of artisan mustard, a Greek yogurt, an absurd amount of spaghetti, and a bag of Rainier cherries.

“Pantry’s gotta be better.”

You flung the door to it and were confronted with a hard sourdough baguette and a box of generic Frosted Flakes. You sighed and closed the door dejectedly. Biking to the convenience store sounded woefully unappealing in 90 degree weather especially when the entire ride was sun-soaked.

“Eh, fuck it.”

You scrambled through your overnight bag and pulled out your sunscreen, slathering it all over you. You pocketed your wallet, grabbed your bike, and began your journey.

The second you opened the door, sunlight irradiated you. Quickly you put on your sunglasses and cautiously biked along the hyper heated concrete. Sweat oozed from your pores, sunscreen melting off your face and weaseling its way into your eyes. Wiping them crossed your mind but your hands were busy. You blinked repeatedly hoping to mitigate the problem but it was a thankless task.

When you finally got to the convenience store you dropped your bike in front of the entrance, growing more exhausted and thirsty by the second. A large “cash only” sign flashed in your face.

“Since when?” You asked no one in particular.

You stumbled inside the store over to the ATM and took out $40 from your bank account. The machine decided to take its sweet time, whirring for a good five minutes before spitting out your cash. After waiting for what felt like hours you trudged to the back and struggled to find anything that remotely looked like what you wanted.

“No, no, no,” you said as you peered into every fridge. “Fuck my ass. Come on.”

A stifled laugh brought you out of your trance.

“Watch out, some creep might try to take you up on that offer.”

“Oh shit, my bad!” You deferred.

The man turned his attention towards you. He was inhumanly gorgeous. His skin sun kissed, long espresso colored hair piled on top of his head in a messy bun, eyes greener than any field you’d seen. He wore a red tropical print button-up with short sleeves and fitted denim shorts. His smile was wide and jovial, one you could trust.

“’S all good,” he said, his eyes lingering on your lips.

“I, uh… Hey, have you seen anything that isn’t a Red Bull or a bottle of St Ides? I’d ask the guy at the counter but he seems rather engrossed in his reading.”

You slyly pointed at the cashier whose nose was buried in a vintage Playboy.

“I have, follow me,” he said, his voice like velvet. A siren’s song.

He wrapped an arm around you and led you to a fridge full of your favorite shit.

“Oh wow, thank you!”

His hands trailed down to your waist. “No problem. Hate to see a pretty thing like you look so lost.”

He looked you over one last time and headed over to the cashier. He pointed at a small bottle of silver Bacardi and slunk out the door after making his purchase. He slowly drove off in a burgundy 1970 Ford Galaxie.

The man was kind yet odd. A face you wouldn’t mind seeing again but one you’d likely run from if you encountered it in a dark alley.

You grabbed a couple bags of chips and one of the bananas that sat on the front counter. The ride home felt significantly easier this time around, your feet less heavy. Just a brief moment of social interaction was enough to make your day.

The pleasantness of your ride quickly dissipated as you noticed a car trailing behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, but as you turned your head to get a better look the car made a sharp u-turn, speeding off in the other direction. Unease crept up on you, making your hands tremble ever so slightly.

All you saw was a flash of burgundy.

The housing development your mother bought into was initially supposed to be a dream-like landscape of exurban bliss. Pastel tract homes with detached garages and green lawns thriving despite nature’s uninhabitable wrath. The money hungry builders saw the arid valley and thought “upscale homes with a golf course and an outdoor mall.”

Of course it never took off. Living in the rain shadow of a massive mountain range was a tough sell and anyone with a brain knew the cotton candy colored homes wouldn’t last in the heat. However those desperate to own land bought them up at auction, your mother being one of them. She ended up with the best one, in her opinion.

���Some of them were worth more than others,” she said, as if she got away with a crime.

The house sat at the edge of the development, a clear view of the towering, jagged mountains to the east. The only thing that separated you from the wilds of the valley was the shoddy fencing your mother haphazardly fixed from time to time. Your closest neighbor, Hannes, lived comically far away on the other side of the development.

You stared down a pile of empty chip bags, regretting your decision to buy straight up junk and a banana. Delivery options were limited to pizza and Thai food; not many restaurants liked driving to the edge of the earth for a single order.

You grabbed your laptop ultimately deciding to order pizza.

“Ugh, of course my credit card info isn’t saved,” you whined.

You patted your pocket where you had previously stored your wallet but nothing was there.

“The fuck?”

You tore off your shorts and shook them. Nothing. No wallet.

“Shit. Guess I’ll call the store.”

You called the convenience store guy and he was utterly useless. Your stomach grumbled, reverberating throughout your body. Hunger took hold of you. You decided to toast the stale bread and eat it with olive oil. You figured you should save the rest of your cash for actual groceries.

“’Hey little one, what’d you eat when I was gone?’ Oh nothing, mama, just fucking croutons.”

The kitchen was bathed in a pinkish glow. The sun settled behind the mountains leaving the sky shades of pink, orange, and blue. It was a loveliness you missed, something you couldn’t find in overly pruned parks and crowded campus cafes. You preheated the oven and struggled to break the bread into bite-sized pieces.

“Fuck,” you muttered as a particularly hard bit of crust works its way under your fingernail.

You held your hand up to examine it and breathed a sigh of relief, no blood. Your relief was short lived as you noticed something rustling in the checkerblooms. You leaned over the counter to get a better look but you saw nothing. Just purple flowers ebbing in the evening breeze.

“Coulda been an elk,” you said to calm your nerves.

That morning you found used condoms outside the kitchen window filled to the brim with milky cum. You didn’t mention it to Hannes when you biked down to his house for money and socializing.

The days were easy to get through. You biked around the development when the heat was at its kindest. You bitched to Hannes about how isolated you were but also how you were far too lazy to remedy the situation. You watched game shows and soap operas. Immersing yourself in daytime television was a welcomed, mind numbing distraction.

The nights were what got the best of you.

You called your mother when the fear became too much, when you’d hear footsteps outside your window. But her advice was always the same.

“Drink a Pabst and turn on Golden Girls! Or ask the delivery guy to hang out with you.”

“Don’t you have a security system?”

“Is this what college has done to you? I remember just last year you couldn’t even remember to lock the front door.”

A million thoughts ran rampant through your brain. She was right after all; you were rather careless growing up in the mundanity of the valley. You sought excitement by skipping through the alkali flats, kicking up rancid dust. You ran around with stray dogs and even got bit by one. A lonely, little girl like you was a professional at putting yourself in questionable circumstances.

“Whatever. I still can’t find my wallet though,” you whined.

“Did you try calling the store again?”

“Why would I call them again?”

“I don’t know,” she said, voice filled with exasperation. “The money I sent should get to you soon.”

“Still don’t think it was smart to literally mail me money.”

She laughed. “Alright, little one. Call me tomorrow.”

And with that your mother hung up. You gazed outside the window as a tule elk meandered by, sniffing the ground occasionally stopping to nibble on a shrub. It lifted its head and jerked it around quickly, an urgent look in its eye. Before you blinked it bounded off into the distance, almost like it was never there in the first place. Curiosity got the better of you and you decided to investigate. You grabbed a kitchen knife and held it like you’d seen all those final girls do in slasher movies.

“I can’t die like this,” you whispered to yourself. “I haven’t even had a threesome yet.”

You crept towards the front door and looked through the peephole. Not a thing, just dead grass and concrete. You sighed and dropped the knife, feeling silly for even grabbing it in the first place. With this new found peace you stepped into the kitchen to brew some tea only to be startled by a faceless figure.

“Holy shit!” You shrieked, ducking under the kitchen table knowing full well you were still visible. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” you muttered.

“Hi, didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.

His voice was oddly friendly, but not so much that you were willing to respond.

“I, uh, found your wallet. Sorry it took me a bit, you just live so far out here.”

You poked your head out from under the table and looked up.

It was the handsome man from the convenience store. He looked decidedly less gorgeous, but a babe all the same. His hair now hung past his shoulders, partially obscuring his face. He wore the same tropical print shirt and shorts you saw him in previously but they were now paired with a faded denim jacket lined with cream Sherpa.

“You want it back or can I keep it?” He asked, his voice as velvety as ever.

“I—I definitely need it.”

You crawled out from under the table and gestured for him to meet you at the front door. As you opened it you saw him leaning on his car, arms crossed.

“Hey, so my wallet?” You shouted at him.

“I, uh, left it at home.”

“Oh.”

He grinned. “Didn’t realize it until I checked my pocket. It’s back at my place if you wanna take a ride.”

Your stomach dropped.

“I—I have Thai food coming and like, so, I gotta be here when it shows up.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “I’ll drop by tomorrow then, that alright?”

No was the first word to enter your mind but you wanted your damn wallet.

“That sounds fine. Thanks, uh…”

“Eren,” he purred.

You forced a smile. “Thank you, Eren. I’ll see you tomorrow. Just gimme a call when you’re close, okay?”

He nodded and waved as you turned to go back inside. Once safe and locked in the house you watched him linger, his eyes still fixed on the spot you previously stood in. He waited around for a good five minutes before he got in his car and sped off.

That night, as you struggled to drift asleep, you reluctantly thought of Eren. You slipped your hand in your underwear and rubbed your clit, pretending that it was him doing so. You bit down on your bottom lip as you traced your fingers down your folds, coating them with your fluids. You slid your hand under your t-shirt and pinched your nipple.

“E—eren,” you whimpered, thrusting up against your hand.

You pictured his strong arms around you, plunging his throbbing cock deeper and deeper inside you. The look of unbridled lust in his emerald eyes as he held you close, pumping you full of his cum.

Your breathing quickened and your toes curled as your orgasm rushed through your body. You continued to mewl his name, your body going limp as your lust subsided. Shame immediately hit you and you rolled over onto your side in a fetal position.

“Why am I like this?” You asked as you tried to will yourself unconscious.

That morning you were greeted with a lack of cell service.

“Seriously?”

You made a few attempts to call your mother, groaning every time it was dropped. Eventually you resigned yourself to being even more cut off from the world. It’s not like you’d be alone for long. Eren did say he’d be dropping by with your wallet, though he never specified when that would be.

The day dragged on and your patience waned. You sat in the kitchen, eating cherries and scowling out the window. Eren finally arrived just as the sun started to lower itself.

He tapped on the door, with his car keys.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he crooned.

You cautiously opened the door and let him in. He smelled like rum and cheap deodorant. His shirt was dingier every time you saw it, it’s once bright hue losing saturation. His denim shorts were dappled with white stains and dirt. Everything about him screamed freak but you welcomed him inside anyway.

“Hey, so…”

“Ah, yeah,” he said, pulling your wallet out of his pocket.

He held it out of reach the second you went to grab it from him.

“Work for it.”

There was something inherently ominous about his grin. It wasn’t a particularly creepy one, in fact it was rather lovely. But his eyes hid something, there was a blankness to them. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, utterly unreadable.

“Come on.”

You attempted to grab it again but he again jerked it out of reach.

“You come on,” he teased.

His eyes looked through you. It was as if he didn’t register you as a person, a human, an equal. You struggled to hide your fear which softened his demeanor.

“I’m sorry. I see a pretty girl and all I wanna do is fuck with her.”

He finally handed you your wallet, his fingers brushing yours.

“Those are some nice hands.”

You gulped and tried your best to look unbothered.

“Uh, thanks.”

“Any chance you could gimme one?”

“Excuse me?”

He flashed you another grin.

“My car’s having some trouble, thing’s old as fuck. Could you lend me a hand?”

“I don’t know much about cars honestly.”

“Having another pair of eyes on it will help. Maybe you’ll catch something I missed.”

You followed him out the door even though your conscious screamed for you to turn around, to go back inside and lock your door. He led you over to his car, the hood was already lifted. You stared into it not sure what to look at.

“See anything strange?” He said, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You laughed nervously.

“N—no, not really.”

He leaned closer to your ear and whispered, his breath reeked of rum.

“Oh come on, baby. Take a better look.”

He pushed you against the car, his semi-hard cock rubbing against your ass. You froze as he rocked his hips against you. Eren groaned as he continued to thrust.

Run, you thought to yourself. Get the fuck away from him. But instead you stood there, clenching your fists, fighting the urge to grind up against him.

“Oh you like that, huh?” He whispered, his tongue flicking your ear.

You arched your back and bit your lip as he rutted against you, his cock now fully erect. A small moan exited your lips as Eren shoved his hands down your shorts. He rubbed your clit through your underwear.

“Ye—yes,” you mumbled.

He leaned in and sniffed your hair, his breath hitching as he savored the smell of your shampoo. His fingers pulled your underwear to the side and he coated them with your fluids.

“You’re this wet already?”

You kept quiet, you were afraid of what depraved things would leave your lips if you opened them. It had been so long and you were so lonely. You couldn’t trust yourself to speak.

“It’s okay, baby. Open your mouth for me.”

He took his fingers out of your cunt and forced them into your mouth.

“Suck them clean.”

You ran your tongue on the underside of his rough fingers.

“Good girl,” he rasped. “Tell me how good this feels.”

He shoved them back down into your shorts and started to finger you. Stifling your moans was out of the question.

“Ohhh, Eren,” you whined. “Feels s—so good.”

“How would you like it if I fucked you in the back seat, baby?”

You nodded feebly. He let you go and led you to the back. You glanced inside and saw zip ties, duct tape, and a mallet on the floor partially hidden under the driver’s seat.

“I have to go!” You shouted abruptly as you ran back to the house, tripping on the porch.

Eren glared at you, his eyes losing any semblance of sanity.

“I’m gonna get you. You think runnin’ from me is gonna do you any favors?”

You sat there like a wounded doe, clutching your bleeding knee. You wanted to get up and run but fear had you in a chokehold.

“J—just leave, please,” you said, trying to sound brave. “My neighbor’s supposed to check on me any minute now. You don’t wanna deal with him.”

Lies. Hannes wasn’t coming and Eren didn’t move a muscle.

“You think I’m scared of some drunk that lives up the road? Hannes ain’t gonna do shit,” he hissed.

How the fuck did he know Hannes? Eren’s words were like poison. Whatever pleasantness you imagined was gone. He was a monster, a menace.

“Just go!” You screamed, voice cracking. “Get the fuck out of here!”

He stood completely still, not even his facial expression changed. You got to your feet and scrambled inside, locking the door behind you.

You watched Eren through the window as you attempted to call Hannes but the call refused to go through. Calling the cops crossed your mind but they were always useless so you refrained.

Eren lingered around for about a half an hour before he finally drove off, his car running perfectly.

You didn’t sleep that night. Didn’t even shut an eye. You sat on the floor, your phone dead in your hand. There was still no service. You felt more shut off than ever, haunted by your loneliness and what it made you do. It made you sick. Nausea plagued you all night, the lingering feeling of his hands on your body made the room spin. It was all too much to bear.

When you saw Eren drive up at dawn you barely had a reaction. You were too tired to be afraid. He got out of his car, still in the same outfit, his stringy hair hanging in his face. The sun shined behind him and his features seemed distorted in the early morning light. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or maybe there was something truly wrong with this man.

He sat on the hood of his car, staring at the front door. You were sure he could see through it, see your pathetic form on the floor. You hoped he’d leave, but he didn’t.

He sat there for an hour before you finally decided to peek your head out the door.

“Hey, baby, did you miss me?”

“No,” you said, opening the door completely.

“You invitin’ me in?”

“Absolutely not. Stay back.”

There wasn’t much space between you and Eren. The front lawn was of average size and it’s not like the sidewalk was very wide. He could snatch you up easy.

“Alright, alright,” he acquiesced.

“What do you want?”

He batted his eyelashes at you, clearly trying to disarm you.

“Come take a ride with me.”

“You’re insane. No. Now go.”

You pointed at the road. You tried to mirror how your mother told off overzealous evangelists that pounded on her door every so often.

“I’m not leaving without you.”

“Well I’m not leaving this house,” you said firmly.

“What do you think I’m gonna do to you, huh?”

“I saw what was in your car.”

“I keep a lotta things in there.”

“I called the cops the second you drove up,” you lied.

He smirked.

“They would’ve been here by now. Guess they’re not coming,” he mused, calling your bluff.

“I called Hannes too and my mom. The—they’re gonna be here soon.”

“Your mom’s out of the country last time I checked.”

“How—”

“And if I remember correctly the little jammer I set up shoulda been blocking your cell signal. So unless you got a landline you haven’t called shit.”

You wanted to puke.

“I—I—why?”

“Look at you,” he cheered. “Such a cutie, and so alone!”

He got up off the hood of his car and opened the door to the backseat.

“Hop in.” He said with a sick smile on his face.

“No, I’m not going.”

“You want me to grab you by the hair and force you in? I will if I have to.”

“Leave me alone.”

“I’ll rip that shit from your scalp. Wouldn’t bother me any,” he sneered. “I’d still fuck you.”

“I have a gun.”

Another lie. You didn’t have any weapons, not even a kitchen knife. You were defenseless.

“You think I’m afraid of some little slut with a gun? Get in the car.”

Tears fell from your eyes, but you didn’t make a sound. You just stared at the ground.

“Come on, it’s only a ride.”

“Okay,” you said in a small voice.

“Hmm?” Eren’s eyes widened.

“I’ll go. I just wanna grab some things. That okay?”

He nodded and you scurried inside. You grabbed your bag and tossed your wallet in it. Eren stood outside, checking his phone. You frantically yanked your phone charger from the wall and tossed it in along with your phone.

The sun still hung low in the sky. Eren honked his horn an obnoxious amount of times, each iteration filling you with more and more anxiety. You flung the back door open and hopped over the fence, your sock catching on it. Your ankle twisted ever so slightly.

“Sh—shit,” you groaned.

Eren continued to honk his horn. You stood up and sprinted away from the yard, your ankle throbbing the whole time. You knew civilization was in the other direction, but so was Eren. Avoiding him was more important. Escape was what you wanted, safety be damned. Every inch of the development was tainted with his presence, even your mother’s home. You knew running into the shadows of the mountains was a bad idea, but you didn’t care. You’d run forever if you had to.

Don't ask me for a part 2, y/n died of exposure. xoxo gossip finn

[sunflowervolvimp3]

changes (best friend!harry)

Warnings: language, nsfw content, drugs (marijuana) and alcohol

Pairing: best friend!Harry x reader

Word Count: 17k (holy shit)

A/N: So this started as two requests I had in my inbox that I got way too into and then it became this. this may be the longest stand-alone fic I’ve ever written, and it, like watermelon sugar, is dedicated to touching!!!! I spent so long on this so as always. feedback is appreciated. and if you like it, please reblog it!!! reblogging is the best way to show fic writers your appreciation <3

{masterlist}

Unless she’s reminded otherwise, Y/N always thinks of herself as a teenager.

This, of course, isn’t true. She turned twenty-six a month ago, works as a media producer for an online clothing company, and lives alone in a one bedroom apartment in London.  However, unless she physically has something in front of her to remind her of her real age and the passing of time, Y/N disregards this information.

Usually, the reminder is a bill in the mail, or a phone call to remind her that she needs to book an appointment with her doctor.  Usually, the reminder is an ache in her back, her glasses prescription getting worse, or realizing that she has no idea what her teenage cousins are talking about when she sees them at Christmas.  Usually, the reminder is enough to give her pause, but not enough to throw her for a loop.

This time, however, the reminder is her childhood best friend naked in her bathroom.

Y/N and Harry had been friends since they were in primary school, after Y/N had moved to London with her mother.  Their new house just happened to be next to Harry’s, and Anne and Y/N’s mother had quickly hit it off.  Anne had been quick to volunteer her son to be Y/N’s tour guide at school, and despite not being enthusiastic about each other in the beginning, the two began to grow closer by the end of Y/N’s first week there.  Within a month, the two were inseparable, and that didn’t change as they entered their teen years, started secondary school, and Harry left London to become a member of the most famous boyband in the world.  Just typical teen things.

However, despite their distance, Y/N and Harry had remained as close as ever.  They constantly texted, called, and video chatted with each other, and Y/N even joined Harry on tour a few times (with permission from her mother).  Although both of them had been worried when Harry left, their worries and fears never came to fruition.  Just as they balanced each other in personality, they balanced each other in lifestyle—when Y/N needed a break from high school and university, Harry brought her to shows, award ceremonies, and parties, and when Harry felt like his fame was overwhelming, Y/N sent him reminders of home, hosted countless movie nights for him, and told him story after story of university life.

They were so perfectly matched that, when they were younger, many people—and tabloids—suspected that they were dating.  Even their mothers had asked them, on occasion, if one of them had any interest in the other.  However, their answers were always the same.  Y/N and Harry were best friends, and nothing more.  Sure, they were touchy, affectionate, called each other pet names, and had even kissed on a few occasions during truth or dare at parties, but none of it actually meant anything.  Y/N had watched Harry grow from a cute kid to an awkward teen to a self-assured man, and her feelings for him had never changed, and an attraction to him had never developed.

Until now.

Harry’s facing away from her, his towel in his hand as he dries his chest.  His entire body glistens with water from the shower.  Y/N can’t stop herself from letting her eyes canvas over every inch of his smooth arms, toned back, down lower to his—

Her breath catches in her throat.  Yeah. His ass is toned, too, she thinks to herself, and only has another moment to think that she shouldn’t be looking before Harry glances over his shoulder, alarmed by the small sound she had made.

“Y/N—” His eyes widen a bit, but he doesn’t make an effort to cover himself with his towel very quickly.

Her eyes automatically follow his movement for a moment before she realizes what she’s about to see. “Sorry!” Y/N turns around quickly, her face heated. “Sorry, I—the door was unlocked, I didn’t realize you were—”

“It’s fine.” Harry fixes his towel around his waist. “Don’t worry about—”

Y/N leaves the bathroom before he can finish his sentence, walking to her bedroom quickly and shutting the door tightly behind her.

Harry, it seems, is today’s reminder that she’s no longer a teenager, because his body is that of a man.

It’s not like you haven’t seen him shirtless before, she tells herself, walking to her dresser to pick out a change of clothes.  Y/N’s seen him half naked countless times.  The whole world has seen Harry half naked countless times.  But she’s never seen him like that.

When did Harry grow up? Somehow, between movie nights and pool parties and going away to school, Y/N had failed to notice that her childhood best friend is no longer a child.  Harry had grown into his features, developed muscles in his arms and chest, tattooed designs all over his skin, and had become an incredibly attractive adult without her noticing.

Y/N pulls her pajamas off quickly, stopping to glance at herself in her full length mirror.  She, like Harry, is also no longer a child. She had grown into her features like he had, had gotten a few tattoos, made her share of mistakes, and became an adult the same way he did.  Neither her nor Harry’s growth had happened overnight.

As she runs her hand between her chest, down her stomach, brushing her hip, Y/N can’t help but wonder: has Harry noticed that they’ve grown up?  Does he still look at her and see the shy little girl, the developing teenager, or does he look at her and see a grown woman?  Is she the only one who’s been late to the party?

Y/N feels a flutter in the pit of her stomach.  Is it possible that, at some point, Harry looked at her and had the same realization that she had a moment ago?  That not only had she grown into a woman, but that she had grown into an attractive woman?

The sound of the bathroom door opening distracts Y/N from her thoughts, and she hurries to finish getting dressed.  Her shirt, she finds when she pulls it on, smells a bit like Harry’s cologne, as she had set it on the side of the bed that he slept on the night before.  She likes it more than she should.

After she’s dressed, she debates just staying in her bedroom to avoid facing Harry again for a bit longer. However, she can hear him working her coffee maker in the kitchen, and knows she can’t hide in her bedroom like a child.  She isn’t a child.

Neither is he, she thinks to herself as she touches her bedroom doorknob. Which is the problem.

Still, Y/N shakes herself from her thoughts and walks out to her kitchen.

Harry, now dressed in wide leg jeans and a plain white t-shirt, is leaning against her kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in his hand.  His hair is still wet from his shower, but other than that, he looks normal. Completely normal.

And yet, Y/N can’t manage to meet his eyes.

“Good morning.” Harry’s voice is low, a bit of amusement in it as he notices her demeanor. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine.” Y/N hates how tight her voice is as she grabs a mug from the kitchen cabinet. “I slept fine. Did you?”

Harry nods, his eyes still tracing her every move as her own eyes avoid him. “I did.  Woke up a bit early, though.  Thought I’d shower before brunch.”

Right.  Brunch.  They’re having brunch that day with a few old friends, at a place just down the street from Y/N’s apartment, which is why Harry had stayed over the night before.  Y/N was going to have to act normal around their other friends, which means she can’t avoid looking at him for much longer.

“I’m sorry.” She says as she pours a cup of coffee. “I am, I—I should’ve knocked.  I forgot you slept over, and—”

“It’s fine, Y/N.  I should’ve locked the door.” Harry says easily, the corner of his lips tugging up. “It’s not a big deal.  Besides, it’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before.”

At that comment, Y/N pauses. “Except…I haven’t seen you naked before?”

Harry shakes his head adamantly. “No.  You have. There’s no way we’ve been friends for almost twenty years, and you haven’t.”

“Harry, believe me. I’ve seen you in a lot of weird positions over the years, but I’ve never seen you completely nude.” Y/N feels her regular ease with him begin to return, just a little bit. “I would remember that.”

“Would you?” Harry cocks an eyebrow, his coffee cup half raised to his lips.

The bit of ease that returned disappears immediately. “I—” Y/N’s cheeks heat up again. “Shut up, you know what I meant.”

Harry tries to hide his laugh behind his coffee, but fails. “I’m just teasing you, love.  It’s fine, promise.  I don’t mind that you saw.  I’m very comfortable in my body.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Too comfortable, I think.”

“Is there such a thing as being too comfortable in your body?” Harry asks in a teasing voice, crossing his arms.

“When your best friend walks in on you naked and you don’t bother to cover yourself?” Despite the blush on her cheeks, Y/N manages to laugh. “Yes.  There is.”

“I don’t know…” Harry finishes his coffee and sets the mug in the kitchen sink. “It sounds like there’s issues with your comfort, not mine.”

Before Y/N can form a reply, Harry shoots her a smirk and walks out of the kitchen.

For the rest of the day, Y/N does her best not to think about that morning’s awkward encounter. Brunch with her friends is normal, and she just lets herself enjoy having Harry home, and catching up with everyone.  The afternoon also passes in an unremarkable way, as does that night.  Over the next few days, however, things begin to change.

Within two weeks, the atmosphere of the country has shifted.  There’s a virus that’s highly contagious and can be fatal, Y/N’s work tells her to work from home, and soon the entire country is being told to stay home to avoid catching Coronavirus.

And then Harry texts her two days later, without any warning or leeway for her to disagree.

I’m on the last flight back to London.  Pack a bag and bring some groceries to my place, so we can isolate together.  You’ll go crazy alone in your flat.

Y/N tries to reply that it’s not necessary, but her message doesn’t go through.  Harry’s already on the plane.  So she does what he says, and packs a bag of clothes, her work bag, some alcohol, and her favourite snacks, and drives over to his house.

Letting herself in with her key, Y/N begins to bring the house back to life.  She lights Harry’s candles and orders some dinner, as well as groceries for the next couple weeks.  She makes sure she gets his favourite foods, and the weird snacks that only he likes.  She calls her mum to tell her she’ll be with Harry, and Anne, to tell her the same thing. And then she waits.

When Harry finally walks through the front door, he looks more like the tired seventeen year old on his first tour than the grown man she had seen a few weeks ago.  The bags under his eyes are evidence of his jetlag and stress, his jacket is rumpled from the plane, his hair just as messy, and he looks like he could collapse the second the door closes behind him.

“H.” Y/N walks towards him and gives him a tight hug.  One hand goes to his back and the other to his hair, playing with it as she always does. “Are you alright?”

“Long flight.” Harry mutters in reply, eyes closed as he holds her tight. “Everyone’s going insane in the States.  I’m lucky I got a flight back to London.”

“Why did you?” Y/N pulls back, brushing his messy hair from his eyes. “You could’ve stayed in LA.”

“Yeah, but…” Harry shrugs a bit. “I knew you’d be alone.  And I wanted to be with you.”

Y/N can’t help the soft smile that creeps onto her face. “C’mon.  I have dinner ready.”

Harry barely makes it through dinner with his eyes open, but still insists on watching a movie after. Y/N tries to tell him that he should just go to sleep, but he won’t hear it.

“We can watch it in my bed, like we used to when we were little.” Harry gives her his best puppy dog eyes. “Please?”

Y/N shoves his shoulder. “You’re twenty-six.  Stop pouting to get what you want.”

“I’ll stop pouting when it stops working.”

Y/N laughs in spite of herself. “Fine, but shower first.  You smell like a plane.”

Of course, as predicted, Harry starts to drift to sleep within the first half hour of the movie. He slips down in the bed more and more, until his head is in Y/N’s lap completely.  Out of habit, Y/N begins to play with his damp curls, running her fingers through them at a steady pace as she watches the movie.

Harry’s breathing begins to even out as she does, and Y/N begins to pay more attention to him than the TV.  When they spend the night with each other, Y/N always falls asleep first.  It’s rare she gets to see him completely relaxed.

As much as she loves his green eyes, his eyelashes may be a close second.  They’re so long and dark that they almost make Y/N jealous.  And his cheeks…she brings one hand up to gently touch them.  They’re stubbled from his long day of travel, but the skin underneath feels soft. Despite having lost his baby fat years ago, there’s still a layer of tenderness in his body.

Y/N is so distracted by him that she doesn’t realize that she’s stopped playing with his hair, not until Harry speaks up.

“Why’d you stop?” His voice is groggy with exhaustion, lower, with a thicker accent.  His words slur together as well

“Hm?” Y/N hums in her throat in response. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Not really.” Harry’s eyes stay closed as he shifts his position a bit. “Will you play with my hair a bit longer?  Feels nice.”

The movie credits roll in the background as Y/N does what he says.  Harry sighs contently, relaxing back into her again.

Y/N turns the TV off, so the only light in the room comes from the moon through the open curtains. It shines over half of Harry’s face, catching the ends of his eyelashes.  Somehow, the moonlight makes his cheeks and lips even more pink.  

“You’re really pretty, y’know that?” Y/N says it absentmindedly, her fingers still combing through Harry’s curls.

“Thanks.” He has just enough energy to mumble a response. “’M, not as pretty as you, though.”

Y/N’s stomach flutters when he says it, so quiet that she’s not even certain she heard him correctly. “Liar.”

“’S true.” Harry’s reply is even less audible than before. “So pretty.”

If Harry was awake and more present in the conversation, Y/N might tease him.  She might try to make him blush, or roll his eyes, or laugh. Maybe, just maybe, she’d even ask him to elaborate, just enough that she could figure out what the fluttering in her stomach means.

But Harry is hardly awake right now.  And it wouldn’t be fair.

“Go to sleep, H,” is all Y/N says, shifting to lay down a bit more without pausing the movement of her fingers.

…

It takes Harry a few days to readjust to London time.  While Y/N spends her weekdays working from the kitchen table, Harry naps and fiddles with his guitar and journal.  While she can tell he’s working on something, Y/N can also tell that he’s not making much process.

A week after coming back from LA, Harry half stomps into the kitchen during the afternoon, frustration clear on his face as he opens the fridge and grabs an apple.  He bites into it angrily and leans against the counter, the irritation still on his face.

Y/N glances at him from behind her laptop. “Everything alright?”

Harry gives half a shrug. “Trying to write.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Fucking sucks.” Harry takes another bite of the apple. “I thought I’d feel more inspired, being at home and not having deadlines, but I can’t get anything out.  Not anything good, anyways.”

“I know the feeling.” Y/N sighs as she closes her laptop. “There’s been a huge surge in online orders, and my boss wants me to create more promo material, but it’s hard to focus on anything right now.”

Harry nods and glances out the window. “Doesn’t help that it’s a beautiful day, but we can’t go out.”

“We can go out.  We just can’t leave the property.” Y/N replies. “You have a giant backyard.  Why don’t you use it?”

“Yeah.  Maybe I’ll go for a swim.” Harry takes another bite of his apple. “You want to come?”

Y/N laughs a bit. “Unlike you, H, I have a real nine to five job.  I’m on the clock for another two hours.”

“After, then.” Harry tosses his apple core in the compost and gives her a grin. “I hope you packed that yellow bikini.”

Y/N crumples a piece of scrap paper in her hand and throws it at him. “Piss off.”

Y/N did, in fact, pack her yellow bikini.  However, when she’s changing from her clothes into a swimsuit, she chooses her blue bikini instead, just to have a bit of agency.  Every instinct in her is telling her to wear what Harry said to, and it’s a little concerning.  She’s never cared about dressing for him before, and she isn’t prepared to start.

Despite the different colour, Harry still grins from the edge of the pool when he sees her walk out. “Look at you.  Should’ve put you in the Watermelon Sugar music video.”

“Shut up.” Y/N sits on the edge of the pool, dangling her lets in the water.  Harry rests his head on his arms, his cheeky grin still on his face as he looks up at her.

“I’m serious.” He says innocently. “It was a fun day.  You really would’ve liked it.”

“Of course you thought it was fun; you had a bunch of beautiful girls fawning over you and feeding you fruit.” Y/N rolls her eyes from behind her sunglasses. “You’re such a narcissist.”

“All musicians are narcissists, love.  At least, the best ones are.” Harry’s grin grows as he pushes away from the ledge. “Are you going to just sit there and look pretty, or are you actually going to swim?”

“I’m going to tan.” Y/N leans her head back, enjoying the feeling of the warm sun.

Harry shakes his head. “No, sorry.  The pool is for swimming only.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

In hindsight, Y/N should’ve known what Harry was about to do.  She’s been friends with him long enough that she knows how his brain works. However, Y/N is enjoying the sun so much that she lets her guard down for one moment, and that one moment is all Harry needs.

She feels his hands grip her legs, and before she can stop him, he pulls her into the pool.  Her entire body submerges, and when she finally rises, gasping for air, the only thing she can hear is Harry’s snickering.

“You’re such an ass!” Y/N hits his shoulder hard, not caring about leaving a mark on him. “That’s not funny!”

“The pool is for swimming only.  I told you.” Harry can’t stop laughing long enough to make it through his sentence clearly. “Them’s the rules.”

“Them’s the rules.” Y/N repeats in a mocking voice, hitting him one more time. “You’re the worst.”

“Maybe, but you’re stuck with me.” Harry runs a hand through his wet hair. “At least until quarantine is done.”

“I should’ve stayed alone in my apartment.” Y/N mutters, tossing her wet sunglasses on the pool ledge. “Would’ve been so much more peaceful.”

“And boring.” Harry points out. “And you wouldn’t get to take relaxing swims like this!”

“Right.  Relaxing.” Y/N splashes him playfully. “Jerk.”

Harry just grins at you.

…

“Want one?”

Y/N glances at Harry as he packs loose marijuana into a wrapper, concentration clear on his face as he rolls it.

“You learn how to roll those in LA?” Y/N asks, taking a sip of her wine.

Harry chuckles lightly, his skin illuminated by the fire burning in front of them and the moon above them. “Yeah.  I’m not very good, though.  Usually I have somebody else to roll them for me.”

“So high maintenance.”

Another low laugh rolls out of Harry’s mouth. “Ha.  High maintenance.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but an endearing smile is on her face. “It’s still illegal in the U.K., you know.”

“I doubt the police are going to break social distancing rules to arrest me for it.” Harry’s tongue pokes out of his mouth as he tries his best to roll the joint tightly.

Y/N watches as Harry brings the wrapper to his mouth, licking it lightly.  To her dismay, her attraction to Harry had yet to fade, and spending every moment of the day together wasn’t helping.

“I’m not an eighteen year old girl on your tour bus anymore, Harry.” Y/N raises her wine glass. “I drink red wine now.  I’m sophisticated.”

Harry snorts, his eyes flickering to her before looking back down at the joint. “Sophisticated, right. Like you didn’t do body shots off the bartender at your birthday party this year.”

Y/N’s cheeks burn. “Birthdays don’t count.”

“Neither did tour buses, and neither does my backyard in the middle of a pandemic.” Harry seals the joint as best he can. “You may have a fancy job now, but you’re still my Y/N.”

His Y/N.  That phrase ignites the now familiar flutter in her stomach and, over the last few days, her core.  Something about Harry identifying her as his drives Y/N insane, even if it’s nothing new.

“And what exactly does your Y/N do?” She manages to say after a moment.

“She doesn’t take shit from anyone.  She gets drunk fast and high faster.  She’s always down for a laugh.  And, although she won’t admit it, she has a tendency to make bad decisions that she tries to suppress, but can’t always manage to do so.” Harry sparks his lighter and sticks the joint between his lips, lighting it and puffing it quickly.

“Then you should know that your Y/N can’t have a joint of her own.” Y/N steals the joint from Harry’s lips, taking a few puffs of her own from it before handing it back.

The smoke curls in her lungs, forcing a few coughs from her.

“Alright?” Harry asks, concern in his eyes.

Y/N nods, her hand pressed to her chest like she can stop the burn. “Yeah.  Just haven’t done that in a while.”

“You always cough so much. It would be cute if it wasn’t so bloody concerning.” Harry says casually, lifting the joint to his lips and inhaling.

Y/N watches as he exhales smoke slowly.  She wonders if she looks as attractive as he does when she blows out smoke.

Harry grins at her with just the corner of his mouth, like there’s a secret tugging at the edge of his lips.

Y/N really doubts it.

“Here.” Harry places the joint between her lips. “Inhale slowly.”

Y/N does as he says, doing her best to keep from coughing until the joint and his hand is away from her face.  Her eyes burn a bit, both from the smoke and the oncoming high that’s starting to twist through her body.

“That’s a good girl.” Harry praises her before leaning back, placing the joint back between his own lips. “You’ve gotten better at that.  Thought you were going to pass out the first time we smoked, remember?”

“I remember I almost did.” Y/N giggles to herself as she settles down into the couch more. “I coughed so much that I thought I was going to die on that tour bus.”

“Niall was certain you had.” Harry laughs too, and Y/N known they’re both playing back the same memory. “Wasn’t quite sure how we were going to explain that one to Paul.  Neither was I, honestly.”

“You don’t give me enough credit.” Despite the feeling coming over her, YN still takes another sip of her wine. “I was fine.”

Harry nods as he finishes the joint, setting the butt down into his ash tray. “Still…we had some fun nights on the bus when you were there.”

“That was a fun summer.” Y/N agrees, her eyes fixed on the fire before them. “Lots of good memories.”

As Y/N watches the fire, Harry watches her.  He lets another moment or two pass before speaking again.

“When you were on tour with us that summer…” He rubs his lips absentmindedly. “You and Niall.  Did you two ever…?”

“What?  Fuck?” The weed and the alcohol take away the careful tone of Y/N’s regular speech, leaving honesty and bluntness behind.

Harry laughs once. “I was going to say date, but yeah.  I guess so.”

“We didn’t date. We fooled around a few times.” Y/N shrugs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “He was fun.  But we both knew it wasn’t anything serious, just something to do while I was on tour with you.”

Harry nods a bit, reaching for his own drink and taking a sip.  Y/N watches the movement with heavy lidded eyes.  His arm muscles flex underneath his tattooed skin when he moves, and the way his fingers wrap around his glass is fascinating to her.

“I figured he would have told you.” Y/N pulls her sweater around her tighter.  Now that the sun has set completely, a chill has appeared. “You guys always talked about girls together.”

“No, he didn’t tell me. And I didn’t ask.” Harry keeps his glass in his hand, looking down at it with an unreadable expression. “I thought you might tell me, but you didn’t, either.”

The substances in Y/N’s system are clouding her mind, but she does her best to focus on Harry’s words. As a way to ground herself, she pulls her sweater away from her body, hoping that the cold air will help.

“I’m sorry.” She says slowly, like it takes all her effort to get the words out. “I didn’t mean to…hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t.”

“Oh.” Confusion fogs Y/N’s mind. “Then…why is it bothering you?”

“It’s not bothering me.” Harry denies, finishing off his drink. “I was just wondering why.  You usually tell me everything.  You always have.”

Y/N bites her lip. “I don’t tell you about every person I sleep with.”

Harry hums low in the back of his throat, but offers no other response.

After a few minutes, Y/N stands up. “I think I’m going to head to bed.”

Twisting his empty glass around in his hands, Harry nods. “Alright.  I’ll be up in a little bit.”

“You know, you have a guest room.” Y/N pauses, fiddling with the bottom of her sweater.  Her skin feels unsettled, and the fabric against it isn’t helping. “I should probably start using it.  Social distancing, and all that.”

Harry looks up at her, a stubborn look reflecting in his eyes. “No.  I sleep better with you beside me.”

When Harry finally comes up to bed an hour later, Y/N is still awake, eyes closed, with her back away from the door and head toward the wall.  She doesn’t turn over when she hears the door creak open, and instead just listens to the rustling sounds of Harry changing, going to the bathroom, washing his hands, and returning to the bedroom.

Y/N feels his weight on the bed, but doesn’t hear him slide in next to her.  Instead, she does her best to stay completely relaxed when she feels his fingers brush against her hairline, pushing back a few loose strands.

Staying completely relaxed, it turns out, is easier thought than done.  The moment Harry touches her, Y/N feels the nerves in her face burst to life. It’s like electricity, like nothing she’s ever felt before from any previous touches from Harry.  Behind her closed eyes, Y/N feels her head spinning, but she’s certain it must be the weed and the alcohol in her system.

Finally, the sheets are pulled back, and Harry gets under the covers.  He pulls Y/N back against him, and Y/N can feel the hot skin of his chest pressed against her shoulders.  Harry takes a moment to adjust before sighing, almost in content, and then he presses a gentle kiss to the back of her shoulder.

The tender action leaves Y/N speechless.  The action itself isn’t new; they had always been very physically affectionate with each other.  But there’s something about the moment that Y/N can’t quite place a finger on. Perhaps she would be able to if she was sober, or less tired, but with her brain in its current state, the words she needs are lost, and she’s certain she won’t remember the feeling in the morning.

Harry inhales deeply, his nose buried in her hair, and sighs again.  Y/N can feel him relaxing back against her, but his arms stay wrapped around her tightly.  It’s a comforting embrace, and makes it easy for Y/N’s mind to finally quiet and drift off.

…

“You’re still working?”

Y/N looks up from her laptop to see Harry standing above her, sweaty from his workout.  His hair is tied up in a little ponytail on top of his head, and he has a towel wrapped around his shoulders that he uses to wipe sweat from his face.  His body is literally glistening in the sunlight, and Y/N suddenly finds it very hard to focus on her work.

“I am.” She says finally, closing the lid of her laptop and stretching out on the beach chair. “Or I was. I’m done for today.”

“Good.” Harry sits down on the chair next to her. “I’m going to have a shower, but I was thinking we should try baking something later.”

Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I want cupcakes, and homemade are way better than store bought.” Harry says easily, stealing Y/N’s water and taking a gulp from it.

Y/N watches his throat move as he swallows the water, how his Adam’s apple bobs, how he licks his lips when he finally pulls the glass away from his mouth.

Y/N’s own mouth suddenly feels very dry.

“Alright, yeah.” Y/N nods weakly. “We can bake something later.  It’ll be fun.”

…

“It’ll be fun.” Y/N shakes her head in disbelief. “God, I can’t believe I said that.”

“It was fun!” Harry argues, holding up a red velvet cupcake. “And we did it!”

“And we made a mess.” Y/N gestures to the kitchen around them, which looks like a warzone.  Flour, powdered sugar, and cocoa powder cover every counter surface.  There are broken eggshells on the counter, splatters of batter everywhere, and both Y/N and Harry have dyed red hands from food colouring.

“It could be worse.” Harry shrugs, clearly untroubled. “C’mon.  Try a cupcake.”

Y/N reaches for one, but Harry simply lifts the one in his hand to her mouth.  She locks eyes with him as she takes a bite, the icing smearing across her top lip.

Y/N chews slowly and swallows hard. “Yeah.  They’re good.”

Harry extends a hand, and his finger runs along her lip, collecting the icing.  He pops it into his mouth, sucking for a moment before humming in agreement. “Yeah.  Sweet.”

The cupcakes, it turns out, pair well with watermelon cocktails, and soon Y/N and Harry are sitting on the couch, takeout and cupcakes in front of them and drinks in their hands as they giggle and talk.  They’re intoxicated, but not just from the alcohol in the strong drinks that Harry makes.

“Honestly, working from home isn’t ideal, but it’s not that bad.” Y/N pops a bite of food into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Definitely not the worst part of quarantine.”

“Yeah?” Harry leans back on the couch. “What’s the worst part?”

Y/N shrugs. “It sucks being away from people, cooped up inside.”

Harry nods, but his face looks wistful. “I miss sex.”

Y/N laughs, but she nods in agreement as well. “Fuck, I know.  I miss sex so much.”

“It’s nice, you know? A good way to burn some energy…always sleep so well after…” Harry sighs, taking a sip of his drink between his phrases. “I feel like I’m back on a tour bus again, with no one around but my hand.”

A giggle escapes Y/N’s mouth. “How tragic.” She also takes a sip of her drink, and tries to stop herself from making a face.  Harry really does make them strong. “I just miss touching.  I haven’t been this touch starved since I was seventeen.”

Harry makes a scoffing noise in the back of his throat. “We touch.”

“That’s different.” Y/N finishes her drink. “That’s friendly touching.  It’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean, then?” Harry challenges her, a glint in his eyes that Y/N’s come to recognize as a sign of trouble.

She refuses to take the bait. “You know what I meant.”

“I don’t.” Harry says it innocently, and he reaches forward to take her glass from her. “How about I get us some refills while you think of how to say it?”

Y/N lets him take the glass (she loves his drinks, despite how strong they are), but shakes her head. “Stop being an ass.  You know exactly what I meant.”

A low laugh rolls out of Harry as he walks to the built-in bar he has in the lounge.  He begins to recreate the drinks, muddling this, adding a splash of that.  If Harry wasn’t already a rock star, she’d suggest he become a mixologist.

“Maybe I do know what you meant.” Harry shakes the cocktail shaker with ease before straining the liquid out over their glasses, which he’s filled with fresh ice. “But I want to hear you say it.”

Y/N runs a hand through her hair.  She feels warm from the alcohol, and the lit candles around them aren’t helping.  The food and cupcakes sit on the table, all but forgotten in their new conversation. “Say what?”

Harry’s lips pull up in a smirk, but his eyes show something else.  He walks back over and hands her the drink before taking a seat next to her again. “The kind of touching you miss.”

Their fingers touch as Y/N takes the glass from him, and suddenly the warmth of the room feels ten times hotter. “You want me to say it?”

Harry lifts his glass to his lips, but keeps his eyes on her. “I do.”

“I…” Y/N takes a sip of the drink (which is stronger than the one before) and then presses the cold glass to her cheek. “I miss touching.  Intimate touching.  And…being touched intimately.”  

Harry inhales deeply, stretching out his shoulders before responding. “Yeah.  I miss that too.  Holding hands, touching someone’s stomach, chest, legs…having them play with my hair…”

“I play with your hair.” Y/N says defensively, a crease appearing between her eyebrows.

Harry laughs once. “Right, but like you said…that’s different.”

Y/N clears her throat. “Right.”

Harry takes a long sip from his drink. “’S still nice, though.” Harry adds after a moment, licking his lips. “I love when you play with my hair.  You know that.”

Nodding softly, Y/N begins to trail a finger over the rim of her glass.  Whenever she begins to get tipsy, she begins to fidget more, and feel freer in her actions.  And when Y/N glances back at Harry, she can tell he recognizes the sign as well.

“What about you?” He asks, bringing her back from her thoughts. “What do you miss having people do?”

Y/N drinks again, pulling her knees to her chest as she leans against the couch’s armrest. “I miss…having my hair played with, too.  That’s always nice.  I miss having my fingers played with…neck kisses…I like when people, like, rub my arms or thighs, just absentmindedly…” She leans her head against her arm. “Your turn.”

“My turn?” Harry rubs his nose lightly, and Y/N can tell he’s feeling the alcohol, too. “What’s my turn?”

“Tell me what else you like.” Y/N smiles softly, a small laugh just barely bubbling out from her. “We’ve never actually talked about it, H.  Isn’t that strange?”

Harry turns to face her more, pausing to think for a moment. “I suppose we’ve never been specific before, yeah.” He taps his thumb against his H ring. “I like being in control, usually. Telling them what to do, where to touch me…” His eyes get a faraway look in them. “But sometimes it’s nice to give up control.  Have someone else…”

“Decide.” Y/N finishes his sentence for him when he trails off. “Yeah.  I’m more like that, I think.  I usually let someone else decide.  But I like the in-between, too.  Like…both exploring each other.”

“What do you mean?” Harry cocks his head to the side curiously.

Y/N shrugs loosely, her finger still tracing her glass. “’S hard to explain.”

Harry’s voice is low when he replies, almost like he’s somewhere else. “Try.”

“Well…” Y/N takes a drink before setting her glass down. “It’s like…do you remember your first time?”

Harry blinks, surprised at the question, but nods. “Yeah.  I do.”

“And remember how nervous you were?”

“Yeah.”

“And like…” Y/N plays with her fingers as she ponders her next words. “You were nervous, yeah, but there was also this excitement in you.  Kind of like…a breathlessness.  And you looked at the other person and knew they…”

Harry closes his eyes for a moment. “Felt the same.”

“Yeah.” Y/N tucks her hair behind her ears. “And just, like, being comfortable with them, and knowing you could both explore, and ask questions, and you were both together…” Y/N feels heat rise to her cheeks as she trails off. “I don’t know.  I feel like that’s rare, but I—it’s nice.  I like it.”

“Yeah.” Harry rubs his thumb over his lip as he shifts his position on the couch. “It’s nice, yeah. Rare, usually.  But nice.”

“I think it’s rare, because, like—” The alcohol makes it harder for Y/N to gather her thoughts, but also harder to sensor them. “I don’t know, I feel like when I was younger, and hadn’t had sex yet, I took more time with, like, finding the right person? Like I wanted it to be with someone who loved me for the first time, and someone I was comfortable with, and it was. And then after, the love part didn’t matter so much for me.” Y/N glances at Harry, who seems to be hanging on her every word. “Which, like, was fine.  What mattered to me the most was that whoever I had sex with respected me. And they did, so that was…good. But it’s different.” Y/N rubs her arms. “I don’t know if that makes sense…”

“It does.” Harry assures her, placing a light hand on her knee.  He begins to rub small circles. “Keep going.”

“I just think that, like, that in-between, breathless, exploring each other kind of thing…the comfort…that’s rare because it only really happens with someone you love.” Y/N murmurs. “At least, that’s how it is for me.  And I haven’t really been in love much in my life.”

“I’ve been in love probably too much.” Harry admits, his hand still on Y/N’s knee. “Too much to be good for me.”

Y/N shakes her head adamantly. “No, H.  That’s good. That’s…brave.  You’re not afraid of how you feel.  Most people are.”

“Maybe.” Harry finishes his drink again with one long gulp.  

Y/N watches as he does, seeing a little drip of liquid slip from the corner of his mouth.  She can’t stop herself from leaning forward and wiping it away with her thumb, feeling the stubble of Harry’s chin scratch against her.

Harry watches her with hooded eyes as she leans back to her previous position.  His hand slips a bit higher, from her knee to her lower thigh, but she doesn’t say anything.

“Who have you been in love with?” He asks.  His words are slurred a bit, and his accent seems thicker.

“My first boyfriend, Parker. You remember him.” Y/N sighs, closing her eyes as she herself remembers. “And…Christian, from university.  We were together for two years.  That’s it, I think.”

Despite the alcohol, Harry’s face still shows some surprise. “Really?  No one else?  No one since Christian?”

Y/N shrugs. “I’ve dated, yeah, and had relationships, but…I don’t know.  I didn’t love any of them.  I was…infatuated.  But I never…it was intense, but like—intense like a spark.  Nothing prolonged.”

Harry hums in response. “Thought you were going to say Niall for a moment.  He was pretty torn up when you went back to school after that summer.”

Y/N’s face mimics Harry’s surprise from a moment ago. “Was he?”

“Yeah.  Moped around a bit, spent time by himself, on his phone every two minutes…” Harry’s expression shows the difficulty it’s taking him to think back eight years while drunk. “I knew it was because you left.  Thought you two had an…agreement, or something.”

“An agreement?” A giggle escapes Y/N. “This isn’t a Jane Austen book, Harry.  We didn’t have an agreement.” Once she gets her laughter out, she sighs. “He was that upset?”

“Yeah.” Harry scratches the back of his neck. “So I thought…he must be in love with you.  And you were…”

“No, I wasn’t.” Y/N says softly. “He was so upset that you thought he was in love with me?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N bites her lip. “Was he more upset than you?”

Harry takes a moment to reply, looking at her with a serious expression.  His lips are so red, and his eyes are so green, and both of them are so drunk that neither of them can sense the meaning behind what they’re saying.

“No.” Harry finally responds. “He wasn’t.”

…

“Good morning.”

“Shhh.” Y/N covers her eyes with her arm. “Don’t yell in my ear.”

“I whispered.” Harry counters, but his voice is a bit quieter this time. “Do you have a headache?”

“I didn’t know something flavoured with watermelon could make me feel so shitty.” Y/N groans a bit, shifting on the bed without opening her eyes. “What did you do to me?”

When Harry laughs, it’s not audible, but Y/N can feel it through his chest pressed against her side.

“How are you completely fine right now?” She asks, rubbing her eyes.

“I’m used to it.  I’ve always been way better with hangovers than you.” Harry presses a small kiss to her shoulder before getting up. “How does breakfast in bed sound?”

“Normally amazing, but I can’t eat right now.” Y/N mutters. “How about coffee in bed?”

“Sure.” Harry smiles a bit. “You look cute like this.”

“Shut up.”

Harry returns ten minutes later with a tray of coffee, toast, and eggs, of which he manages to coax Y/N to take a few bites.  She doesn’t really want it, but she knows it’s easier to do as he says instead of arguing.

“How about we have a movie day today?” Harry suggests after breakfast. “In bed, since it seems like you won’t be moving anytime soon.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Y/N glares at him from the top of her coffee cup.

Harry raises his hands in defense. “Hey, I didn’t make you drink.  You chose to.”

“I know, but it’s easier to blame you.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Is that why you’ve been doing it for twenty years?”

“Exactly.”

Harry carefully lifts the empty tray to the ground before holding up the remote. “You can pick the movies.”

Y/N bites her lip. “If we watch Titanic, will you make fun of me when I cry?”

“Of course not.  I’ll even cry with you out of solidarity.”

“Alright.” Y/N settles back into the blankets. “Put it on, then.”

It’s easy for them to be like this, Y/N thinks, as Harry pulls her into his arms when the movie starts. It’s always been so natural for them to be physical and affectionate with each other.  They’ve never acted any other way.

Except this doesn’t feel like any other way.

Yes, Y/N has watched countless movies while cuddling in bed with Harry.  But has he ever whispered in her ear like that before?  Has he ever rubbed her sides so carefully before? Has he ever let his lips rest on the bare skin of her shoulder, almost at the base of her neck?

Y/N can’t recall. However, she’s certain that if he had, it hasn’t felt so electric.

“Look at them.  Look at how Jack watches her.” Harry murmurs his words directly in Y/N’s ear as they watch Jack draw Rose.  Y/N can feel his lips brushing against her, and the heat of his breath and tone of his voice makes her shiver.

“She’s very pretty.” Y/N nods, shifting in Harry’s arms.  She likes how warm he feels.

“I suppose, but that’s not what I meant.” Harry traces shapes on her arm. “I meant look at how he looks at her.  Do you think they have the kind of love you talked about last night?”

Y/N glances over her shoulder at him, surprised he remembers their conversation. “I think so.  Do you?”

“Yeah.” Harry says in a low voice.  He says no more, so Y/N turns back to face the television.

They continue to watch in silence, gripping each other a bit tighter as the Titanic begins to sink. As they watch a mother reading to her two young children in bed, Y/N begins to lose her composure, like always. Tears well in her eyes, and she lets out a quiet hitched breath, a single sniffle.

“It’s alright, love.” Harry’s hands move to her stomach, holding her tighter to comfort her. “Don’t cry.”

Y/N can hear the tears in his voice, just as they’re in her own. “Can’t help it.  This part and the band and the old couple in bed—they always get me.”

“I know.” Harry rubs his thumb along your side.

Y/N reaches behind her without turning around, threading her fingers through Harry’s messy curls.  She plays with them absentmindedly as she watches, and tries to ignore how right it feels to be close to him like this.  She wonders if he notices it, too.

Harry presses a chaste kiss to her shoulder.

…

The day they hit the one month mark of quarantine, Harry sits across from Y/N at breakfast with a determined look on his face.

“I have a proposition for you.”

Y/N glances up at him, her attention barely shifting from her book. “A proposition?”

“Yeah.”

“What kind of proposition?” Y/N tilts her head to the side.  What she first thought was just determination on Harry’s face, she realizes, is actually determination and mischief, and she knows it won’t end well.

“I haven’t had a tattoo in a while.” Harry steals a strawberry from Y/N’s plate. “And I have a machine here, so I was thinking you could give me one.”

Y/N stares at Harry incredulously as he pops the strawberry in his mouth. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Probably.”

“I’m a terrible artist, Harry.  You know that.” Y/N shakes her head. “And even if I wasn’t, I have no idea how to tattoo someone!”

“You can watch a YouTube tutorial, or read a WikiHow.” Harry sighs loudly. “I’m so bored in isolation!”

“What do you even want tattooed?” Y/N eyes the intricate tattoos on his arms suspiciously. “I doubt I could do something like your ship.”

“Something simple.” He shrugs. “Probably lettering.”

“Probably?” Y/N says suspiciously.

“That’s why I want you to do it.  I want it in your handwriting.”

Harry’s tone is easy, but it makes her breathing shallow.

“You do?”

“Yeah.  I was thinking of something to remind me of this time, because of how weird it is.”

Despite her increased heartbeat, Y/N laughs. “What, do you want me to tattoo COVID-19 on you?”

“No.  Be a little more creative than that.” Harry scoffs.

“Why do I have to be creative?”

“Because I want you to decide what I get.”

Y/N’s eyes widen. “You’re not serious.”

“I am!  Why is that so hard to believe?” Harry asks. “I trust you. And you’re good with words.”

“No.  Absolutely not.”

…

“Make sure my drink has two shots in it.” Y/N calls to Harry as she looks over the tattoo supplies on the living room table.

Harry laughs. “I’m not sure I want my tattoo artist to be drunk.”

“The only way I’ll even be your tattoo artist is if I’m drunk.” She counters. “I still think this is an awful idea.”

Harry hands Y/N a tall glass with a light pink liquid in it. “Drink this, and you’ll change your mind.”

Y/N takes the glass and takes a large gulp, not focusing on the taste of the mixers, but the liquid courage behind them.

Harry grins, lifting his own glass. “Cheers.”

“Shut up and sit down.” Y/N mutters.  She ties her hair back before grabbing the disinfectant wipes. “Where do you want this?”

“My upper inner arm. I already shaved it for you.” Harry smirks as he points to the area, which is easily exposed in his loose tank top.

“And you’re sure I can write it with pen?” Y/N asks nervously as she disinfects the area.

“Mhmm.” Harry leans back comfortably in his chair. “What did you decide on?”

“It’s a secret.” Y/N uncaps the pen, getting closer to him.

“So I can’t know until after it’s on me permanently?”

“Is that a problem?” Y/N asks innocently. “I thought you trusted me?”

Harry chuckles. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Also that I’m good with words.” Y/N makes sure Harry’s head is turned away before she carefully writes the phrase she chose.  Then she snaps on gloves and starts the machine like she watched in videos early that day.

“You’re fine, love.” Harry assures her, seeing the nervous look on her face. “It’s a small tattoo. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

“Quiet.” Y/N mutters. “I need to focus.”

True to Harry’s word, the small tattoo only takes a few minutes to finish.  When it’s done, Y/N gives it one final wipe before setting the machine down and taking off her gloves.

“Alright.” She picks up her glass and drains it completely. “You can look.”

Harry peers at his arm, curiosity clear on his face.  There, in Y/N’s loopy handwriting is the phrase “touch me.”

“It looks so fucking good, Y/N.” Harry grins at her. “You did amazing!”

“I didn’t fuck it up?” She asks, chewing on her lip anxiously. “Is it alright?”

“You did a lovely job.” Harry smiles. “Wrap it for me?”

Y/N does as he asks, carefully wrapping the fresh tattoo in plastic wrap and taping it to his arm. “I think I’ll accept my tip in the form of another drink.”

Harry snickers. “Coming right up.”

Two drinks later, they’re both back in the honest and loose headspace that they’ve grown familiar with. It’s not enough that they’re unaware of their actions, but both Y/N and Harry know that their lips are looser because of the liquor in their systems.

They’ve migrated to the bedroom to get comfier, but took a few items from the bar with them.  It’s with these items that Harry tops up Y/N’s glass again as he speaks.

“So tell me…” He sets the cocktail shaker on his bedside table. “Why ‘touch me’?”

“You said you wanted something to remind you of isolation.” Y/N takes a long sip of her drink. “And that’s what we both miss the most, right?  Being touched?”

Harry nods slowly, his rings clinking against his glass. “Yeah.  I’m probably going to go straight to the bars after this is all done.  Find someone there.”

He laughs lightly, showing that what he says it half a joke, but Y/N sighs wistfully and shakes her head in disagreement. “I won’t.”

“You won’t?” Harry is surprised, his laughter fading. “Why not?”

Her shrug almost causes her to spill her drink on the bed. “I don’t know.” Y/N sighs again. “I don’t really—I’m not a hookup fan.  Not right now, at least.  It’s not what I…want.”

“What do you want, then?” Harry finishes his drink, but sets the glass down instead of refilling it. “If not sex?”

“I want sex.” Y/N says defensively. “But I want—I don’t want it to be someone random.  I want sex, but I want to be…intimate.  Like, I want to know that person cares about me, and I care about them.”

Harry licks the last of his drink from his lips. “Like that breathless feeling?”

“No.  It would be nice, but no.  That takes time.” Y/N brushes her hair behind her ear. “Just…someone who cares.  I don’t want a quick fuck, I just—”

“You want to be touched. Intimately touched.” Harry takes the empty glass from Y/N’s hand and sets it down on the table next to the bed.

Y/N nods gently, her limbs feeling loose. “Yeah.  Intimately touched.”

“You know, I could…” Harry trails off, pursing his lips. “We could…do that.”

The alcohol makes Y/N slow to recognize the meaning of his words. “What?”

“I’ve noticed you…the way you look at me, it’s…different than it was.” Harry says carefully, his eyes gauging her reaction. “For the last few weeks.  And I—I know that I’m…attracted to you, too.”

“We…” Y/N struggles to think of what to say as she finally registers what’s happening. “We’re friends.”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see you as attractive.” Harry looks down at his hands. “Don’t you…?  I mean…”

“I—yeah.  I think you’re—” Y/N laughs a bit nervously. “You’re attractive, H, you know that.  We’ve just never…discussed it.”

“I’m not saying we have to fuck, or—we don’t have to do anything.” Harry straightens his shoulders and looks you in the eye. “Just—when we touch, it’s mild.  If you want to be touched intimately, we could…”

“Like, a hand job?” Y/N says slowly, her words blunt with confusion.

Harry goes a bit red, but he shakes his head quickly. “No, Christ, that’s not what I meant, I—just—can I show you?”

“Um,” Y/N swallows hard. “Sure.”

“Okay.” Harry nods slightly, taking carefully measured breaths. “If this feels weird, or anything seems wrong, just tell me to stop, alright?”

Y/N replies faintly. “Alright.”

Nodding again, Harry moves closer on the bed, sitting on his knees so he can get closer to Y/N, who sits cross-legged.  His hands rest lightly on her bare thighs, and his rings are a cool contrast to his warm skin.

Harry begins to rub his hands up and down her thighs slowly.  His movements are measured, and he watches Y/N’s reaction carefully for a sign of her disliking his actions.  However, what he finds is a nervous but interested girl staring back at him.

“Like this.  Like, what you like.” Harry says lowly.  His hands move more to her inner thighs, but they don’t creep higher. “And…”

“And…?” Y/N asks, her heart rate increasing even more.

Harry moves one hand to the hem of Y/N’s tank top, pushing it up a bit so his hand can rest on her waist. He rubs over her warm skin, marvelling in how smooth and soft it is to his touch.  His fingers graze the lace of her bra, but he goes no higher.

“How—how’s that?” Harry asks quietly.

“It’s, um, it’s good.” Y/N replies as she struggles to keep her voice normal. “Yeah.  Good.  But, um, can you…” Harry’s movements pause at her words, and Y/N feels her cheeks get even warmer. “Maybe touch my, uh, my neck.  If you’d like.”

Harry nods, and the hand on her thigh moves to her neck.  He traces his fingers across her shoulder and over her collarbone, delighting in feeling the curves of her body.  Y/N’s breath hitches when his fingers travel up her neck, and Harry swears he can feel her pulse increase under his fingers.

Y/N’s not sure if it’s the fact that she’s touch starved from self isolating that makes Harry’s touches feel so good, or if it’s the fact that it’s Harry touching her, but she doesn’t dwell on it.  Instead, she closes her eyes and tilts her head back, allowing him better access.

She feels Harry’s breath before she feels his lips, but she’s still surprised when she feels him begin to sponge light kisses across her neck.

“H…”

“Is this alright?” He asks the question right below her ear, and yet she can barely hear him because he’s so quiet.

“Yes.” Y/N breathes. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Harry returns to pressing light kisses to her skin, his hands still rubbing over her sides and hips.

For the first time since seeing Harry naked in her bathroom, Y/N can’t deny or explain away her attraction to him.  She can’t convince herself that she doesn’t want him to touch her, because she does, and she can’t tell herself that she doesn’t need him, because she does. Every fibre of her being is telling her that she needs Harry, and she needs him now.  Her heart is pounding, her skin is on fire, and her core feels like she’d going to explode if he doesn’t do something.  And yet, Y/N can’t tell him to touch her more.  She’s frozen, mind blank, and she can only register what Harry is doing at the moment as what she wants.

Harry continues to kiss her neck, never lingering too long in one spot, never sucking too hard. Every kiss is gentle and chaste, except the few rare ones that include the tip of his tongue running over her skin.

After what feels like an eternity, Harry pulls away from her neck, face flushed.  Despite his hands still on her body, Y/N makes an involuntary sound in the back of her throat.

“Is that better?” He asks lowly, rubbing his thumb against your hip.

“I—kind of.” Y/N says softly.  If anything, she thinks, it’s worse.  She needs to satisfy the burn inside her, but she doesn’t know how.

“Good.” Harry replies, but he doesn’t take his hands off her.

Y/N’s own hands have been sitting at her sides as his moved over her body, but she raises one now, as hesitant as Harry was.  She extends it towards his arm, but pauses with her fingers right over his skin.

“Is it okay if I…?”

The corner of Harry’s lips lifts up, just barely. “Yeah, love.  Go ahead.”

Harry’s skin is warm beneath her touch.  Y/N traces the outline of his mermaid tattoo carefully before moving onto others.  She loves how his arm curves under her touch, how he stays still and lets her explore.  She appreciates it, thinking that if Harry made any sudden movements, she’d force herself to pull away.

Soon, her fingers move from tracing his tattoos to tracing the lines of his muscles.  She moves down his forearm to his hand, running her fingers over the veins that show through his tan skin, over his knuckles, down the tips of his calloused fingers and back.  

Harry sucks in a breath, and Y/N’s trance flickers for a moment as her eyes move to his face to see what’s wrong.

“Sorry, just—surprised me.” Harry says, voice low yet sheepish.  He nods down to his thigh, where Y/N realizes her own hand is resting.

“Oh—” She moves to pull her hand away, but Harry places his own on top.

“It’s fine.” He says quickly. “Keep going.”

Y/N bites her lip as she turns her attention back to his arm.  Her fingers move slowly and carefully back up his forearm to his upper arm. She traces over his tattoos while she rubs her thumb gently against the muscle, and stops her fingers at the edge of his t-shirt sleeve.  With a quick glance at Harry, she pushes the sleeve up, tucking it up on his shoulder so she can run her fingers over his ship tattoo, which is one of her favourites.

“Feels nice.” Harry murmurs, his eyes following her movements.

Y/N glances back at his face, taking in his appearance.  His lips are red from the time he spent kissing her neck, and his cheeks are still flushed.  His eyes are darker than usual, and she’s not certain if it’s the candlelight or something else causing it.  There’s a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, with a few loose curls hanging down. Out of reflex, Y/N reaches up and pushes his hair back out of his eyes.

Before she can return her hand to his arm, Harry captures it in his own.  Y/N watches as he brings it to his lips, inhaling as her wrist passes underneath his nose.  Although she’s not sure why, there’s something about seeing how much smaller her hand is in Harry’s that delights her.

Harry presses a soft kiss to her wrist, following it up with another on her palm.  Y/N’s eyelids flutter at the tender sensation.

“It’s my turn to touch you.” She says softly, her voice strained.

Harry hums in reply. “I know.” He kisses your wrist once more before looking at you. “I’ll help.”

Lifting his hand from his thigh (your hand, which was underneath, stays where it is), he pulls up his shirt just enough that he can sneak your hand underneath.  He rests it on his lower chest, and even though his shirt is still partially covering him, Y/N knows she’s touching his butterfly tattoo.

“I like to be touched here.” Harry says in the same low voice.

“Okay.” Y/N bites her lip, her head swimming with alcohol and the smell of the candles and Harry’s cologne and Harry. “It…would be easier without your shirt.”

Without breaking eye contact, save for the moment fabric covers him, Harry pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side. “Better?”

Y/N’s eyes drift down to his tanned stomach.  His body is familiar and a stranger to her all at once.  She knows his tattoos, scars, every mark on his skin from a distance, but seeing it like this—touching it like this—makes her feel like she’s never truly seen him before.

“Better.” She manages to say, her hand brushing across his ribs.

Y/N spends a while exploring the planes of his stomach, the contours of his body.  When she gets to his v-lines, and runs her fingers over the ferns tattooed there, Harry shivers a bit, his hand gripping her knee tighter.

Y/N massages his thigh gently. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” Harry clears his throat. “I’m good.”

“Okay.” Y/N nods, but moves her hand further up again, over his chest and over his collar bones.  She takes a moment to trace the lines of his neck, feel the beat if his pulse underneath her fingers, and then tangles her fingers in his hair.  She uses the leverage to tilt his head back a bit, and presses her lips to the base of his neck.

Harry’s cologne smells better up close, and Y/N adores the heat of his skin on her sensitive lips. She presses small kisses over the curve of his neck, pausing over his jugular.  Her tongue darts out and she carefully licks along it before ending the motion with a kiss.

“Christ…” Harry exhales slowly, the tips of his fingers digging into her knee slightly.

Y/N knows they’re crossing the threshold of just touching each other for the sake of touching.  She can feel herself dripping in her panties, and when her eyes flicker down, she can see the outline of Harry’s half hard cock in his shorts.  Together, they’ve reached the border of friends helping each other out, and she’s certain that she wants to cross it with him.  However, she’s not sure if they should.

Pulling back enough to look Harry in the eyes, Y/N clears her throat. “H, we—what are we doing?”

Harry waits a moment to answer. “I…I don’t know.  I have no fucking clue.”

“This isn’t friendly anymore.” Y/N’s voice drops to a whisper. “It’s not just—it’s intimate, yeah, but it’s more…” Her eyes move to the outline of his hardening cock once more before looking back up at his face. “It’s more.”

“Yeah.  It’s more.” Harry moves his hand further up her thigh again, rubbing slow circles. “But I don’t want to stop.”

Y/N sucks in a breath. “You don’t?”

“It’s been so long since…” Harry trails off, his gaze drifting down to your lips before returning to your eyes. “And it’s you.  I’ve always wondered if—we—”

“I’ve wondered, too.” Y/N admits, her voice filled with nerves.  Are they really discussing this? “Especially since that day, in the bathroom—”

“I wondered if you looked then.” Harry’s voice drops lower (which Y/N didn’t think was possible). “I thought about it later that day.  I—fuck, I wanted you to look.”

A small noise escapes the back of Y/N’s throat. “This—we’ve been drinking, and—it’s the alcohol, H. Neither of us is thinking straight.”

“This isn’t the alcohol talking.  I’ve thought about—when we’re in the pool, when we cuddle, when we flirt, I—I can’t help it.” Harry closes his eyes for a brief moment, like he’s collecting himself. “I need you.  And I think…I think you need me too.”

“I do.  I need you.” Y/N touches his stubbled jaw with careful fingers. “But we’re friends.  This is going to change that.”

“We don’t know that.” Harry leans into her touch. “You said before that you wanted someone you’re comfortable with, something intimate, something breathless.  You and I are comfortable, and intimate, and—I don’t know.  All I know for sure is that I want you.”

Y/N isn’t sure if he means he wants her in a purely physical way or something more, and while she knows she should clarify that, all she can focus on is his voice and the way it’s going straight to her core.

“I want you, too.” She says simply.

Harry brings his hand to Y/N’s hip. “Can I kiss you?”

Y/N nods.  She’s not sure she’s capable of giving a verbal response.

Harry takes it upon himself to lean closer, his fingertips digging into Y/N’s skin in a way she adores. He pauses, hovering just above her lips for a moment, as if to give her time to pull away.  Instead, Y/N just waits in anticipation, delighting in the feeling of his breath running over her skin.

When he kisses her, Y/N tastes alcohol, mint, and what she swears is her own heart in the back of her throat.

Any previous kisses she’s shared with Harry have been half kisses, given in teenage games of truth or dare and in a friend’s parent’s basement.  Those kisses were safe, guarded, and an obligation.  This kiss is the exact opposite.

Although it starts chaste, it quickly grows more passionate.  Y/N can’t stop herself from tugging on Harry’s hair more than she imagines Harry can stop himself from rucking up the hem of her tank top.  His fingers dip under the band of her lace bralette as she nips at his lip, tugging slightly, delighted when a strangled sound echoes from the back of his throat.

Within minutes, Y/N’s allowed Harry to pull her to straddle his lap, his hands grabbing at her hips with a neediness she’s never seen him exhibit before.  Of course, she feels the same way, and she lets her hand run down his chest over and over, using her nails a little more each time.  Although there’s no one around to see, no party to return to, nowhere to go, Y/N wants to leave a mark.  She wants anyone who sees his chest to know that he belongs to her.

Harry breaks away from her, lips red, eyes frenzied, and breathing heavy. “Can I—?” His hands tug on the hem of her top, tugging in question.

Y/N lifts her arms in response, letting him pull it off and toss it to the side.  Harry moves back in to kiss her again, but she keeps her arms up, giving him a long look.

“You’re not done.” She says simply.

He understands right away, and his fingers find the band of her bralette again.  This time, however, he removes it slower, almost as if the removal is ritual itself, and his hands are less frantic when they return to your skin.

Harry looks at Y/Nu with wide eyes, and she understands the meaning in them: this is so much more than just touching, and so much more than two friends using each other for mutual pleasure.  With every touch, they further cross a line, and neither of them can stop.  

With this realization, Harry’s movements become more cautious.  His hands come to rest on her sides, his thumbs just brushing the side of her breast.

“You’re fine.” Y/N assures him in a soothing voice. “Keep going.”

“Are you fine?” He counters, his voice an equal mix of concern and need.

“H.” Y/N takes his hands in her own and places them over her breasts. “Like that.  Touch me like that.”

Harry sucks in a short breath as she manipulates his hands, showing him how to rub her and touch her. After a few moments, she lets her hands move to his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.

Y/N begins to grind against him, desperate for a bit of friction.  Their kisses are soon accented with their moans as they each pull the other closer in lust and need.

Still, underneath the physical desires, there’s a current running between them.  Y/N knows it’s been there for the last few weeks, humming quietly in the back of her mind, but being here, now, with Harry touching her, it’s come alive like an electric fence.  She can’t turn it off, and she doesn’t want to.  She doesn’t want to in the slightest.

Harry begins to kiss down her neck like before, but this time his kisses are anything but chaste. When he reaches her breast, he kisses around them before taking one of her nipples into his mouth.

“Oh fuck—” Y/N arches her back, fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer. “Harry…”

He hums against her, and his spare hand rubs her back like he does when they get ready to sleep.  Usually, the motion is calming, but right now, Y/N feels anything but calm.

Harry continues until he’s satisfied with his work, and then he kisses his way to her other breast, wrapping his lips against her other nipple.  He spends just as much time on that one, letting his teeth graze it ever so slightly before soothing the action with his tongue.

When he pulls back, there’s a little line of spit connecting Harry’s mouth to her nipple, and Y/N whimpers at the sight.

“H…” She runs her finger through the line before gripping his chin with her thumb and forefinger.  The need inside her builds, as does her fondness for the man in front of her. “God…”

Harry tweaks her hard nipple with his finger, gentle enough so as not to hurt her, but enough to make a gasp fall from her mouth.  He offers no response in the form of words, but the hungry look in his eyes has only increased.

“Let me…” Y/N climbs off of his lap, gently pushing him to lay back on the bed. “Yeah?”

Harry runs a hand through his messy curls, nodding quickly. “You want that?”

“Yeah.” Y/N nods too, pressing a wet kiss to his swollen lips. “So bad.  Yeah.”

Her hands move to the waistband of his shorts, and Harry lifts his hips off the bed.  Y/N tugs down his boxers in the same movement, and tosses both articles of clothing to the side before looking back at him.

Harry’s cock is just as beautiful as she remembers it being the morning she accidentally walked in on him. Even more so, she thinks, because now he’s hard, and the head is the most appetizing shade of pink, with drops of precum pearling at the top.  When Y/N wraps her hand around his girth, she adores the heat that she feels.  

“So pretty…” She says the words almost to herself, and strokes him lightly to get used to the feeling of him in her hand. “I just want to…”

Y/N leans down and flicks her tongue over his tip, collecting the precum gathered there.  In return, a strangled moan leaves Harry’s throat as his arm moves to cover his eyes for a moment.

Y/N presses a kiss to the head of his cock before she continues licking, reveling in the sounds Harry makes.  She had no doubt, with a voice as angelic as his, that his moans and whines and whimpers would be just as beautiful.

When she wraps her lips around the head and sucks, she feels Harry’s hand move to her hair.  She looks up at him without lifting off of his cock, staring him in the eye as she takes more and more of him into her mouth.

“Fuck—” Another moan leaves Harry’s lips, more strained than the last. “That’s it…” He tugs on her hair, but doesn’t push her down.  Even when lost in pleasure, he’s careful with her.

Y/N loves him for it.

Pacing herself, she takes more and more of him into her mouth until her nose is pressed to the base of his stomach, brushing against his (neatly trimmed) pubic hair.  She stays down for just a moment before pulling up completely to breathe, but keeps her hand on him, stroking him slowly.

“You look so good.” Harry mutters, running his hands over her hair in a soothing motion. “I imagined it, but didn’t think…so much better…”

Y/N moves to push her head back down, but Harry stops her, bringing her up for a kiss instead.

“I want to taste you, now.” He tells her, laying her down on the pillows. “Is that alright?”

Y/N nods desperately, feeling even more heat rush to her core and pool there. “Mhmm.”

Harry kisses his way down her body again, slipping his fingers into the waistband of her shorts. He leaves her panties on as he pulls the shorts down, and lets out a low groan at the sight of her pink Calvin Klein panties, and more specifically, the dark pink spot that’s apparent on them.

“You’re soaked…” He presses a kiss to her sensitive inner thigh before brushing a finger over the wet spot.

Y/N jumps a bit, making a sound in the back of her throat. “Harry!”

“Sorry.” He kisses her thigh again. “I’m sorry.  Just relax, yeah?  It’s just me. I got you.”

Harry continues to kiss along her inner thighs, moving closer and closer to the thin cloth covering her center.  When he presses his first kiss to the fabric, Y/N grasps the sheets in her hands.

“God…” She whispers, fists clenched.

Harry reaches up and takes one of her hands, placing it in his hair wordlessly before kissing over her again, his tongue peaking out just a bit.

The torture continues for what feels like forever, with Harry teasing her over the soaked fabric of her panties.  Finally, Y/N sighs in relief as she feels his hands grip the fabric, and she lifts her hips eagerly as he tugs the article of clothing down.

The first thing she feels is his hot breath hitting her core, which is enough to make her legs reflexively close with pleasure.  Harry’s hand grips her leg, pushing them back open as he takes in the sight of her dripping cunt before him.

“Fuck…” He inhales deeply, committing her scent to memory. “Your pussy is so gorgeous.”

Y/N whimpers at his words and tugs on his curls. “Please, H…I need you.”

“Need me?” Harry asks in a husky voice, his finger touching her outer lips just barely.

“Yes!” Y/N whines, not caring how she sounds. “Never needed anything more…”

Harry runs his finger over her slit, collecting the wetness dripping from her.  YN moans loudly at the contact, not fully relieved but grateful for the light touch.

“So fucking wet.” Harry’s voice sounds not completely his own. “Fuck, Y/N, how are you so wet?”

Y/N feels heat rush to her cheeks, and she mumbles her reply in what’s almost an embarrassed voice. “You know exactly how.”

“Don’t even know what to do first.” Harry ignores her reply, lost in his own world as he continues stroking her slit. “Just want…”

He presses into her without warning, and Y/N arches her back off the bed as Harry’s finger slips into her cunt.  His cold rings touch the top of her entrance as Harry pauses inside her, his eyes heavy with lust.

“And so tight.” He moans, biting his lip hard enough to leave a mark. “Oh my God…”

He curves his finger inside her, wanting to feel every inch of her that he can.  Y/N continues to whimper above him.

“More.” She begs him, pushing back against his finger. “I can take more, Harry, please.”

Harry easily slips enough finger in, repeating his motion as she pushes back on him.  However, the pressure building inside Y/N disappears abruptly as his fingers do, and she’s just about to get angry at him when she feels his tongue replace his fingers.

“Fuck!” She exclaims loudly, her eyes closing as she throws her head back. “Harry—!”

Harry moves his tongue in and out of her, loving the taste of her juices in his mouth.  He moves further up to her clit, licking and sucking over the sensitive bundle of nerves as Y/N writhes above him.

“Taste so good.” He growls from between her thighs. “Fuck, Y/N…you’re going to cum for me, yeah?” He asks as he reaches up and grips her hands in his, interlocking their fingers. “Tell me you’re going to cum for me.”

Another strangled moan leaves Y/N’s mouth as he speaks. “I-I’m so close, Harry. Keep going, please.”

“Tell me.” He demands, licking over her clit again. “Tell me you’re going to cum for me.”

Y/N grinds against his tongue as she grips his hands tighter. “I’m going—fuck—I’m going to cum for you, H.  I’m going—”

Harry sucks hard on her clit, and Y/N throws her head back as an orgasm hits her harder than ever before.  Her thighs clench shut, trapping Harry’s head between them, but he just continues to lap at the juices flowing from her cunt while making the most obscene sounds Y/N has ever heard.

Harry doesn’t pull back until Y/N unclenches her thighs, and before he does, he presses one last kiss to her clit, making her flinch.  

Y/N is so exhausted she can barely open her eyes.  Once she does, however, and sees Harry, she feels all the exhaustion fade.

Harry’s lips are, somehow, even more red than before, and his whole chin is slick with her wetness.  He keeps licking his lips, like he can’t get enough of the taste, and Y/N feels like her whole body is on fire.

“Harry…” She whispers, squeezing his hand again.  She doesn’t know what else to say.

Harry lifts himself over her body, which is still shaking from her orgasm, and kisses her gently.  She can taste herself on his mouth, and she adores it.

“You taste so fucking good.” He murmurs, pressing his sweaty forehead against hers. “Like candy.”

Y/N swallows hard. “I haven’t—no one’s done that in a long time.”

“I’ll be glad to do it again.” Harry replies, brushing her hair back. “But right now…all I want to do is make love to you.” He looks at her with sincere eyes. “Will you let me?”

The tenderness of him asking almost brings tears to her eyes, and Y/N nods, her hands coming up to cup his rosy cheeks. “Yeah, H.  I’m…” She bites her lip as she realizes the truth of her words. “I’m yours.  Always.”

Harry inhales sharply before kissing her softly, his hands stroking her hair in a comforting fashion again. “How do you want to…?”

“I want you on top.” Y/N replies, touching his swallow tattoos. “I-I want to feel you.  Feel your weight.  Feel you close.”

With a nod, Harry positions himself over her, spreading her legs wide enough that his body can fit between.  He holds himself up with one hand and uses the other to guide his cock to Y/N’s folds, just brushing the head over them.  He’s teasing himself just as much as her.

“Harry…” Y/N leans her head back at the sensation. “Please, H…”

“I don’t—wait—” Harry pauses his movements, and Y/N can see on his face the strength and discipline it takes for him to do so. “I—a condom—”

“I’m clean, and I have an IUD.” Y/N assures him, running her hand along his shoulders. “Are you?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I am, but—are you sure?”

As Y/N looks into his eyes, the love and concern and want written all over them, she knows she’s never been more sure of anything in her life. “I want to feel you, without anything in between.  I—” She takes a deep breath and presses a kiss to his jaw. “Yeah.  I’m sure.”

Harry presses a kiss to her forehead, and the tender action makes Y/N close her eyes as she revels in the feeling.  A moment later, Harry moves down again and puts his forehead against hers as he pushes into her.

The moment he enters her, Y/N feels a fullness she’s never experienced before.  Not only is Harry stretching her cunt in a way that feels euphoric, but she feels complete.  He’s as close to her as he’s ever been, his breath is mingling with hers, his body weight is held over her carefully, and Y/N thinks she could die in the pleasure of this moment happily.

“Y/N…baby…” The pet name seems to fall easily from Harry’s lips as he bottoms out, holding himself still to adjust to the feeling. “Oh my God…”

Y/N digs her fingernails into Harry’s shoulders, pressing kisses to his lips between gasps for breath. “Move, H, please.”

Harry begins to thrust his hips, setting a slow but deep pace before gradually speeding up.  While part of Y/N wishes he would thrust as fast as he can, a deeper part of her is grateful that Harry is taking his time with her.  This feeling, now that she has it, is better than anything she’d ever felt before, and Y/N doesn’t want it to end anytime soon.

Harry kisses Y/N again as he moves inside her.  Although they’re as close as they’ve ever been, each of them keeps pulling the other closer.  As Harry thrusts deeper, Y/N pulls more of his weight down on her.  As Y/N scratches her nails down his back, Harry kisses her jaw. Neither of them can process exactly what they’re doing, but neither of them can stop.  Each touch is tender, each kiss is passionate, and each moment brings them closer together in so many more ways than just physical.

They don’t speak except for the occasional whisper from Y/N for Harry to move faster, or the occasional moan of Y/N’s name falling from Harry’s lips. The only constant sounds in the room are of the slickness between Y/N’s thighs as Harry moves between them, the sound of his skin meeting hers, both of them panting and moaning, and a few whispers of “please” that are barely audible.  Despite the lack of speech, however, the two are in constant communication.  Kissing, biting, scratching, and squeezing have become the vocabulary of their new language.  When Harry looks into Y/N’s wet eyes, he knows that she feels something running through the very depths of her being.  When Y/N feels Harry tuck his head between her neck and her shoulder as he whimpers, she knows that he trusts her to comfort him and hold him there.

Soon, Y/N feels the waves of pleasure begin to build, and she knows that when they finally break, they’ll pull her under. “H, I—fuck—I—” She can’t manage to form the sentence she needs to.

Harry, however, can tell exactly what she’s going to say. “Please.” He pants, adoring how she buries her head into his shoulder. “Please, love, cum for me…” He kisses over the shell of her ear as he thrusts deeper. “Need you.”

Y/N whimpers, biting down on Harry’s shoulder as her orgasm rolls over her. Harry feels her walls tighten around his cock, but he doesn’t slow down, and he works her through her climax until she whines in his ear.

“So good, H…” Y/N can barely find the strength to whisper the phrase.

Hearing her sound so fucked out, feeling her cunt squeezing him, and seeing the euphoria on her face is enough to bring Harry to the edge.  He slows his thrusts, about to pull out, but Y/N presses on his back to keep him close.

Harry groans as a shiver rolls through his body. “I’m about to cum, Y/N—”

“Stay inside me.” She pleads, pressing the pads of her fingers between his shoulder blades. “I-I’m yours, Harry, I told you.  Yours.”

Y/N looks up at him with such trusting and vulnerable eyes that Harry can’t make himself argue with her.  He nods instead, his thrusts increasing in speed again until he feels himself reach the edge of pleasure.  

As he freefalls into Y/N, his hips stutter, and he presses deep inside her while her name falls from his lips over and over again.  He can’t think of anything else to say.  He can’t think of anything else worth saying.

When Harry finally manages to pull himself together enough to pull out, Y/N instantly feels the emptiness inside her.  She wishes he would stay, but knows that it’s not practical, and instead just relishes in the feeling of his cum dripping from her entrance.  It’s like he’s claimed her as his, left a physical mark of himself, and Y/N doesn’t have the strength to stop herself from loving it.

They lay in silence for a few moments, trying to catch their breath and regain a sense of where they are.  Both Harry and Y/N are sweaty, exhausted, and covered in each other in more ways than one.  The wrap on Harry’s tattoo has slipped from his arm.  Somewhere in their pleasure, Y/N has lost an earring.  And yet, the only thing each of them cares about is looking at the other.

Out of instinct, Harry pulls Y/N’s shivering body into his, wrapping his arms around her tightly.  He can’t imagine she’s cold, and Y/N can’t bring herself to tell him she’s shivering because of the feeling of being so close to him, but neither of them denies the other of the affectionate gesture.

Y/N loses track of how long they lay there until Harry breaks the silence.

“I—” His voice cracks, and he clears it quickly before trying again. “I’ll get you a cloth to—to clean you up.”

Y/N nods, and Harry gently untangles himself from her before going to the bathroom.  Y/N can hear the running of water, and turns her head to see what he’s doing, but when she spots his naked silhouette, she closes her eyes.  Despite what they just did, there’s a shyness in her still when she sees him completely stripped.

Her eyes stay closed, and she only detects his return from feeling his weight return to the bed.  He places a gentle hand on her trembling knee, pulling her open ever so slightly.

“’M just cleaning you up.” Harry says in a quiet tone. “Is that okay?”

Y/N nods again.  She’s not certain she has enough strength to say anything.

Harry wipes between her legs with a gentle touch, watching how she flinches at the slightest of pressure. “I’m sorry.” He says sincerely, kissing her knee tenderly before continuing. “You’re sensitive, I know.  Almost done.”

Once he finishes wiping away the cum dripping out of her (his cum dripping out of her), Harry tosses the cloth onto his pile of clothes on the ground, deciding it can be dealt with later.  His most pressing concern at the moment is Y/N.

He lays back down on his side so he can face her, and pushes a lock of hair away from her closed eyes.

“Y/N.” Harry murmurs, hand resting on her waist carefully. “Talk to me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is rough when she answers, and Harry can hear the echo of her moans in her words. “I-I’m fine, H.  Just…tired.”

“Do you…” Harry bites his lip. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Y/N gives a slight shake of her head. “Maybe—maybe tomorrow, yeah?” She does her best to open one eye, but quickly shuts it again when she sees how Harry is looking at her. “Can’t right now.”

“Okay.” Harry lays his arm over her side as he moves closer. “Tomorrow.”

Y/N presses her head into his shoulder and commits the scent of his skin to memory.

…

The first thing Y/N registers when she wakes up is the feeling of someone touching her hair.

She doesn’t need to open her eyes to know it’s Harry.  Of course it’s Harry.  It’s always been Harry.  In every way.

Y/N sighs and readjusts her position in bed, moving a bit closer to Harry.  She shivers once from the cold, still naked from last night’s activities, and that’s the only hint Harry needs before he pulls the sheet up around her more.

“Are you awake?” He asks softly, careful in case she’s still lost deep in sleep.

Y/N moves her head in a passable nodding motion, and her voice is thick with sleep when she answers. “Mhmm.  Barely.”

A low chuckle escapes from Harry’s mouth, and the next thing Y/N feels are his warm lips against her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“A little hungover.  A little sore.” Y/N finally opens her eyes as she speaks, and almost wishes she hadn’t.

Harry’s hair is a mess from both sex and sleep, messy and wild and haphazardly pushed out of his eyes. His cheeks are flushed, and his neck and chest are covered in marks from both Y/N’s lips and fingers.  She knows that if he turned over, his back would be the same, and it embarrasses her and delights her at the same time.  He looks completely fucked and content, and more relaxed than she’s seen him in ages.

Y/N wonders if she looks the same.  If she looks as pretty.

“Sorry.” Harry says, his tone a bit sheepish.

“It’s not your fault.” Y/N replies, shrugging a bit.

“Well…it is, actually.  I made your drinks.  And I…” He trails off, brushing his fingers down her bare hip to her thigh.

“Yeah.” Y/N feels her face get warm. “I guess it is your fault.”

Harry laughs lightly, but it fades away as he looks into her eyes. “We, uh…we should probably talk about what happened.”

Y/N purses her lips. “Yeah. We should.”

“So…first question, I guess.” Harry props his head up on his arm, but keeps running his fingers over Y/N’s hip gently. “Do you regret it?”

Y/N sits up a bit more in bed, clutching the sheet to her bare chest. “No.  I don’t.  Do you?”

“No.” Harry replies instantly. “I don’t regret it.”

“Okay.” Y/N is so aware of Harry’s eyes on her as she thinks of her question. “Did…did you enjoy it?”

A snort falls from Harry’s mouth, and he shakes his head incredulously. “Christ, Y/N, of course I enjoyed it.  It felt—you felt like heaven.”

Y/N flushes at the comment. “I’ve never…I’ve always made my partners wear condoms.  So that was a first for me.”

Harry’s fingers pause over her hip, but only for a moment.  It looks as though he’s deciding whether or not he should comment on that, but changes his mind at the last moment. “Did you enjoy it?” He asks instead, echoing your question.

“I did.”

“You said you were mine.”

Y/N swallows hard. This conversation is less incriminating than making love to him last night, but it seems infinitely more powerful. Probably because they’re both sober, she thinks.

“That—” She clears her throat. “That’s not a question.”

Harry sighs, but there’s an endeared smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You said you were mine. Did you mean that?”

Y/N can’t look him in the eyes, so she looks down instead.  Harry’s hand lies between them, and she intertwines their fingers, playing with his rings as she carefully formulates her answer. “I’ve—I’ve always been yours, H.  Ever since we were kids, I’ve belonged to you.” She runs a finger over his H ring. “Even when you were gone.”

Harry frowns a bit at the tone of her voice. “I’ve been yours too, Y/N.  I belong to you just as much as you belong to me.”

“You’ve always been further out of reach.” Y/N pulls her hand from his, until their fingertips are just barely touching. “Always just…a little out of reach.”

Harry intertwines their fingers again. “I’m not out of reach.  Not right now.  And I’ve never—if you ever called me and said you needed me, I would’ve been on the first flight back home to you.  I would’ve dropped everything for you, Y/N.  I still would, and I always will.”

Tears prick Y/N’s eyes, and although she hurries to close them, one slips out.  Harry catches it on his finger before it can run off her cheek, and when she looks at him again, there’s a concerned look on his face.

“C’mere.” Harry mumbles, pulling Y/N into a tight hug.  He rubs her back like he always does, and the motion is so comforting that she almost forgets the vulnerable position they’re both in. “You’re my girl.  You’re always going to be my girl.” He murmurs in her ear, voice low and soothing. “Always.  Don’t you know that?”

Y/N nods, not trusting her voice at the moment.

“If this is too much for you…” Harry traces his fingers between her shoulder blades.  Y/N thinks he’s tracing words, like they used to as children, but she can’t tell what words he may be tracing. “I understand. We can just—we can pretend it didn’t happen.”

“I—” Y/N shakes her head, looking up at Harry. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Then what do you want, Y/N?” Harry asks, his tone as pleading as it was last night. “All I’ve ever tried to do is give you what you want, and usually I’m pretty good at telling what that is, but right now, I’m lost.  I don’t want things to go back to how they were, but I don’t—I can’t lose you, so just—if you just tell me what you want, I’ll do it.  I’ll make it work.  I promise that I won’t be mad, or hurt, or anything.”

Y/N sits up as best she can, her fingers combing through Harry’s messy curls on reflex, as she always does it when he gets upset. “I can’t pretend that I don’t want you, H.  I do.  I need you.  I told you that last night.”

“But you’re crying.” Harry cups her wet cheek gently, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone. “I hate that.”

Y/N leans into his touch. “It just feels…strange.” She says after a moment. “All of this.  I spent so long trying to stop myself from thinking of you like this, and now that I am, I feel like—like it’s wrong.”

Harry tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth. “Does it feel wrong?”

His low voice makes her shiver. “No.  It feels right.  Really right.”

“I feel like…” Harry’s eyes flicker between Y/N’s own eyes and their intertwined hands. “I feel like we’re both dancing around saying it.”

Y/N sucks in a breath. “Saying what?”

“Saying…” Harry leans in and presses a soft kiss to her lips. “Saying that we’re in love with each other.”

Y/N feels breathless at the words coming from his mouth. “You’re in love with me?”

“Are you not in love with me?” He replies, moving so he’s leaning over her more. “We’ve said I love you so many times before.”

“That’s a different kind of love.” Y/N mumbles, touching the chain dangling from Harry’s neck.

“But we were both meaning something different when we were saying it.  At least, I was.” Harry inhales deeply, like he’s centering himself. “I’ve known…for a while, but I’ve felt it for longer than I’ve known it. And I thought that you might…”

“I think I do.” Y/N whispers. “But saying it feels so—so permanent.  Like we can’t go back to being friends if it blows up in our faces.”

Harry traces a finger down Y/N’s cheek, her neck, between her breasts, to her side, touching just below her ribs. “Maybe we can’t.  But I don’t think we’ll want to, Y/N.  I think we’re perfect for each other.”

Y/N’s heart pounds in her chest. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Harry nods. “This last month, it’s been like we’ve been…playing house, or something.  I’ve loved it.  I keep hearing from friends saying that they’re so sick of the person they’re living with, so tired of them, but I’ve never felt that way about you, and I don’t think I ever will.  I’ll never get sick of you.”

Y/N laughs a bit. “That’s romantic.”

“Shut up.” Harry can’t help but smile slightly. “It is romantic.”

“Yeah.  It is.” Y/N says softly, her hand rubbing over Harry’s tattooed arm. “You’re really in love with me?”

Harry nods. “I am.”

“Huh.” Y/N bites her lip. “So I guess we’ve been lying to our moms, haven’t we?”

Harry laughs loudly, collapsing on the bed next to Y/N. “Jesus, can you not mention our mums when we’re naked in bed?”

“I’m just saying!  We’ve been saying for years that you’re not in love with me, and it’s all been a lie.”

“What about when they ask if you’re in love with me?” Harry’s tone is joking, but there’s a hint of nervousness in the back of his voice. “Has that been a lie, too?”

Y/N’s heart pounds as she nods. “Yeah.  We’ll have to get them something really good for Mother’s Day this year to help make up for it.”

A grin spreads over Harry’s face, almost triumphant, as he leans down to kiss her. “Agreed.” He moves to cage himself over Y/N. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

“I want to hear you say that you’re in love with me.” Harry’s grin turns into a smirk.

Y/N flushes as she shakes her head. “You say it first.”

“I’ve already admitted it!”

“So have I!”

“Not as well as I have!”

“Oh, so it’s a competition now?” Y/N scoffs. “What a wonderful start to our relationship.”

“I’m just saying, Y/N, admitting it is the first step to—”

“Are you seriously going to say that to get me to say that I love you?”

“Just—”

“You’re so irritating—”

“I’m irritating?  You—”

“You’re the worst!”

“And yet you’re in my bed with no clothes on!”

“Okay.  Nope.  Relationship over.” Y/N pushes Harry off of her and wraps the sheet around herself as she gets out of bed. “You blew it, Styles.”

“Y/N.” Laughter falls from Harry’s lips as he leans over the edge of the bed. “Love.  Come back to bed.”

“I think a minute and thirty-seven seconds may be the record for the world’s shortest relationship.” Y/N searches her bag for some clean clothes.

“Come here!”

“Another world record for Harry Styles.” Y/N calls to him without turning around. “You must be so proud—”

Her words are cut off in a shriek as Harry picks her up, throwing her over his shoulder as he brings her back to his bed.

“Harry!” She yells, hitting his arm. “Put me down!”

Harry tosses her on the bed, gentle enough so as not to hurt her, and cages himself over her sheet-covered body.  He’s still completely bare. “Take it back.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Fine. We’re still together.  One less record for you.”

“Good.  Now…” Harry brushes a finger over her lips. “Say you’re in love with me.”

Y/N’s laughter fades a bit as the nerves set back in. “I…”

“Please, Y/N?” Harry murmurs, leaning down to kiss her neck. “Please say it.”

“I’m—” Y/N sucks in a quick breath, and all of her protest leaves her body as she exhales. “I’m in love with you, Harry.”

She can feel Harry’s lips forming a grin against her neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Y/N tugs on his hair gently, just enough so she can pull his head back to look in his eyes. “Now you say it.”

“Y/N.” Harry says her name like it’s something precious. “I’m in love with you.”

A flush of pleasure crawls up Y/N’s spine at his words, but she does her best to keep her tone light-hearted. “So are you calling our moms, or am I?”

“I’ll do it.” Harry reaches for his phone on the bedside table. “And I’ll be sure to mention how it took us getting drunk and having sex to realize—”

“Harry!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell your mum we used a condom—”

“I’ll kill you, Styles, and I’ll make it look like an accident.” Y/N shoves his shoulder hard.

Harry grins at her. “Now that’s romantic.”

[justlightlysedated]

you’ve used up all your coupons and all you’ve got left is me (a 3x08 coda)

dedicated especially to @bestillmyslashyheart @michaels-blackhat and @bisexualalienblast 🖤🖤🖤❤️❤️❤️💖💖💖

Alex wakes up suddenly, breathing in sharply, eyes opening wide, heart struggling to leap out of his chest. He breathes in deeply and holds it for a few seconds before exhaling slowly and doing it all over again. 

He barely remembers the dream he'd just been having, the images foggy and fading, leaving behind a sense of urgency, but after being more open with Michael than he's ever been since they were teenagers, he knew that he'd be having nightmares.

Once he feels like he’s not about to hyperventilate, he turns towards the left side of the bed, and finds a smile spreading across his face.

Michael is lying down on his back, one arm flung above his head, the other on his side, pinning the sheet down across his chest. His hair is a frizzy, curly mess, and his mouth is slightly open as he breathes, snoring slightly, still deeply asleep.

Alex turns completely to face him, leaning his head on his arm instead of the pillow, and just stares as the sun starts to rise, spilling gently through the slit of the closed curtains hanging in front of his windows.

Alex hadn’t been expecting it when Michael had kissed him, but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t wanted it with all of his heart. He had just thought that it was something that he would never get to have again, but from the moment Michael stood up and took his hat off his head and moved in close, fingers settling across the back of his neck, Alex had felt something break apart in his chest, like the walls that he'd been trying to build around his heart to stop this from happening again, just fell down at the touch of Michael's lips.

The kiss in itself wasn't what Alex had been expecting either. He'd pushed against Michael, wanting to deepen the kiss, to let the heat that had burst into existence in the pit of his stomach, explode into flames that would drown them both in desire, but Michael had kept it soft and sweet and almost chaste. Kissing him like Alex was something precious and fragile that he'd needed to be careful with, and it was that more than anything that had sent Alex's heart racing, his blood pumping sluggishly through his veins, as though all of it had been replaced with syrup.

When he'd separated their mouths, it was all Alex could do not to push in close and kiss him once again.

After, Michael had taken Alex home, and Alex had spent the entire time letting the anticipation and anxiety of what could happen twist him up into knots so tightly that when Michael had put his hand on Alex's arm he'd jumped.

Michael had been worried, and Alex had thought about just brushing it off, and kissing him to get them back to their usual track, but he'd looked at Michael's face, and Michael’s eyes were large and concerned, and he knew that this was different, could feel it deep down, so he’d taken a deep breath and just let it go.

He’d asked Michael if he wanted to stay, just to sleep, and Michael had looked at him for a long moment, eyes dark and serious, before he nodded his head and had gotten out of the car.

After that everything had been easy, almost too easy if Alex was being honest, the only time he tripped over something was when Michael had stripped down to his underwear, unselfconscious and unaware.

He’d looked at Alex who had been sitting on the edge of his bed, and snorted at the look on Alex’s face, stating that he couldn’t sleep with clothes on, it was always too hot.

Alex had compensated by putting the AC lower and leaving the ceiling fan on, even if that meant that he had to wrap himself up in all of the sheets that he had inside of his closet.

Sometime during the night he’d kicked most of them off, probably because of the furnace that was still sleeping next to him.

Alex stares at Michael, unable to look away, and watching the rise and fall of his chest, itching with the urge to inch closer and put his mouth on Michael’s collarbone, but he contains himself, curling his fingers into the sheet, to stop himself from reaching out.

A shaft of sunlight hits Michael’s face, and he wrinkles his nose, closing his mouth, and turning his face away from the light, moving so that he’s on his side, pulling the sheet tighter and tugging it away from Alex.

Alex grins at the way Michael's face is still scrunched up, and how his curls tumble across his forehead and to his nose.

His smile goes soft and sappy and utterly embarrassing if someone was around to see it, but there is no one to witness it in the dim light, in his bedroom.

He reaches out with one hand, and pushes Michael's hair away from his face, tucking it behind his ear, only for it to fall back across his forehead, making Alex snicker.

The sound wakes Michael up. His eyes blink open, lashes fanning his cheeks, and he takes a moment to realize where he is and who he's with.

A smile, sweet and so loving, tugs the corners of Michael's mouth, something small, but so happy that it makes something in Alex's stomach flutter.

"You stayed," Alex says, eyes on Michael's mouth like they're magnetized, but he can still see the amusement that crosses his face.

"I was tired and it was late," Michael responds, trying for seriousness, but his grin goes even wider.

"Sure," Alex drawls, mocking the way that Michael had said the words, inching a little closer. "That's why you stayed."

Michael just laughs, and it sounds so delighted and free, that Alex can't help but lean even closer.

Michael slides closer too, meeting him halfway, and settling his hand on the side of Alex's face, thumb rubbing gently against his skin, as he presses a soft kiss to Alex's mouth, close lipped and chaste.

Alex's eyes fall shut, as the kiss punches him in the stomach and knocks the air out of his lungs, making him inhale sharply.

Michael pulls away after a second, and Alex tries not to whine, but the sound still crawls up his throat, whiny and embarrassing.

Michael's smile is wide and too bright, almost rivaling the sun, and he keeps his hand on Alex's face as he leans in again, brushing their noses together.

"Morning," Alex says, when it becomes apparent that Michael isn't going to kiss him again right this second.

"A very good morning," Michael responds, sliding his hand down Alex's face and to his neck, making him feel warm and tingly all over.

Alex just closes his eyes, and relaxes into the touch, smiling, pleased and happy, when Michael rubs his thumb across Alex's collarbone.

"You hungry?" Michael asks, voice a low rumble, breath warm and humid across Alex's mouth. "I make a mean veggie omelette."

Alex hums thoughtfully, pretending that he's not completely into the idea of watching Michael putter around in his kitchen making him breakfast while he sits on one of the stools that surround the island counter drinking his coffee, but there is one problem with that.

"I haven't been home for an extended period of time, so I'm pretty sure that there is nothing in my fridge but beer and leftover take out boxes."

Michael gives him a highly judgemental look, like he's wondering how Alex even survived to make it to thirty.

"Okay, fine," Michael responds. "I can make a quick trip to the store, buy some stuff."

He moves, like he's going to roll out of the bed, moving his hand away from Alex.

Alex grabs on to him immediately, wrapping one hand around his wrist and tugging Michael's hand back to his face.

Michael turns back to face him, still leaning up halfway, raising one eyebrow.

"How about instead, we put in an order on instacart and have the groceries delivered?"

Michael lifts both eyebrows, looking surprised, "You can do that?"

Alex rolls his eyes, "Yes, with the power of technology."

Michael scoffs and pulls his hand out of Alex's hold only to grab the pillow he'd been lying on and uses it to hit Alex right in the face.

Alex sits up trying to defend himself but Michael tugs his pillow towards himself before Alex can get his hands on it, using telekinesis while still attacking Alex.

"You're not fighting fair!" Alex says, laughter coloring his tone.

Michael manages to push him down on his back and moves, knees sinking down into the bed on either side of Alex's waist as he leans over him with a wicked smile, hair messy and perfect.

"All's fair in love and war," he says, and moves to hit Alex again.

Alex grabs the pillow before it hits him again, and uses the hold to tug Michael so that he's closer, the pillow crushed between their chests.

Michael is smiling, a dopey, silly, happy, grin, and Alex feels his heart bursting inside of his chest with so much love that he can barely contain it.

"I do, you know," he says, eyes darting all over Michael's face.

"Do what?" Michael asks, voice soft.

"Love you," Alex says, barely hesitating, the words just as soft as Michael's.

Michael inhales sharply, like he hadn't been expecting that, and a look of wonderment crosses his face, making his eyes look sweet and soft.

He leans down, crushing their noses together and stays close, lips just barely brushing Alex's.

"I love you too," he says, and it sounds like a revelation.

Alex closes his eyes and Michael kisses him again.

And later they'll order some groceries and Michael will make him breakfast and Alex will sit and watch him and feel happy and warm at how easily Michael moves around his kitchen. And even more later, they'll check up on everyone and worry about Kyle and Max.

But right now, Alex tugs the pillow out from between their bodies, and settles his hand to the side of Michael's neck, fingers brushing against the back of his ears, and he'll kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until their mouths are red and wet and swollen, and he's aching with it.

There is no other place, he'd rather be.

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 5

xWord Count: 3,374

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 5/?

A/N: If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

<- Previous | Next ->

Chapter 5

I woke up to a heavy and warm wight around my waist. As my mind started registering the scene around me, I noticed the soft snores that were filling the room, the strong smell of cologne, the rough skin encircling me, the chest in front of me that raised and fell at a slow pace. At some point during the night, Derek must have crawled into bed, and I couldn’t say that I minded.

He looked peaceful when he slept. No supernatural problems, no feuds, no hunters, just peace. My hand unconsciously landed on his cheek, softly stroking his cheek. Still succumbed to slumber, he leaned into the touch, nuzzling his head onto my hand like a puppy. I wish this could be the way it always was, but now that I knew the reality of the world we were in, there was no chance it would ever stay this way.

Deciding to let him sleep longer, I tiptoed down the stairs to the kitchen where breakfast had already been prepared. I looked around and noticed that their car keys were gone, which meant they had left early in the morning to do whatever it was that they always did. I greeted Brody who had trotted my way from the living room, and filled his dog bowl, adding a few tasty treats. While I served two plates, I put the coffee machine to run, ensuring the freshest pot for the morning. I looked around for a tray to take the breakfast upstairs in case my parents came back at any moment, eating my food as the coffee brewed. Placing some cream and sugars on the tray, I made my way back to the bedroom where Derek was starting to wake up, Brody following behind.

“Morning, sour wolf.” I softly pushed open the door, the tray in front of me. Derek was rubbing the night from his eyes, a soft smile playing on his lips. Upon seeing the man, Brody jumped on the bed greeting him with slobbery kissed. Derek laughed and petted his head as he laid at the foot of the bed.

“Morning,” he yawned. “Whatcha got there?”

“Some eggs, bacon, and hash browns. Also, some coffee.” He took the tray from my hands and set it on the bed. Taking one of the coffee cups, I sat over on my desk to work on the homework I had left pile during the week. Derek grabbed the plate and came to stand behind me, leaning down to rest his chin on my shoulder.”

“What are you doing?” He inquired, downing the food from the plate quickly.

“Homework. You know, the thing people my age have to do to be able to graduate from high school with good grades.” I looked to the side, my heart beating faster noticing the closeness of our faces. “I’m sure you wouldn’t know much about that.”

“I’ll have you know I was a good enough student.”

“Emphasis on good enough.” I booped his nose with my pen and continued my work. “When you’re done you should head home, don’t want my parents catching you here just in case.”

“Why? We’re not doing anything.” He sipped his coffee and sat down on the bed, Brody laying his head on his lap. I turned my chair and faced him, a laugh escaping my lips.

“I think you’re forgetting who you are and who my family is. Apart from that, I don’t think my dad will particularly enjoy the fact that a 21-year-old werewolf is in his teenage daughter’s bedroom, alone.” I grinned. “But suit yourself. I’d love to see how it will play out.”

“Alright, but can I at least take you out some time this week?” My heartbeat quickened, the sound loud enough for me to hear. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s not a no,” I grinned.

“I kind of need an answer,” he pressed. A grin played on his lips by the point he had stood and rested his hands on the arms of the chair.

“How about, I’ll let you know?”

“I’ll take it,” he smiled. “I’ll text you.”

“Alright, I’ll be waiting.” He kissed my cheek and grabbed his jacket to head towards the door. “Where are you going?”

“Home?”

“Not through the door you’re not.” The dumbfounded look on his face was hilarious. “what would I do if my parents walked in.”

“I’m fast, you know. Like supernaturally fast.”

“Mm, I’ve seen you. Not fast enough.”

“Fine,” he surrendered. “Keep watch of your phone.”

“I will,” I smiled. He took a step back and in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Brody got alerted by the sudden move and jumped off the bed to bark at the window, standing on his hind legs to prop his eye out. I joined his side and saw Derek standing normally in my backyard as if he hadn’t just jumped out of a two-story window. He waved and I waved back as he became a blur, vanishing before my very eyes.

I slumped down on my bed and ran my hands over my face. What was I doing? There were so many things that were pit against us. My 18th birthday was still a little less than a year away, he had something going on with Erica, my family and he are natural-born enemies, we are currently under the terror of a reptilian shapeshifting Jackson, and that was just scratching the surface. I couldn’t scrutinize why he would ask me out too much, it was probably not even in a romantic way. It could just well be that he wanted to keep an eye on me since I was new to this whole werewolf, Kanima, hunter thing.

A couple of hours went by where I took Brody out for a walk, finished what was left of my homework, and started watching a movie when my phone went off.

“Hey, I heard the good news! You’re staying in town.”

“Hey, Allison. Yeah, it looks that way.”

“Well then, I believe you owe some people an apology.”

“What could you possibly mean?” I scoffed. But she was right, as hard as it was to admit.

“Don’t act dumb, (Y/N). You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t like it when you’re right,” I sighed. “What do you think I should do?”

“I could invite them over to your house and you could apologize to them. They never object to free pizza.”

I was glad. Instead of sulking on the 'he likes me, he likes me not' nonsense, I prepared the house for Allison and her friends, the people I hope to win over. One by one they arrived at my doorstep. Scott, Stiles, Lydia, and Allison. I had put out some snacks and the pizza I had bought. Scott and Stiles were not shy about their hunger as they dove in right away.

"So, what's the purpose of this meeting?" Lydia asked, her usual cocky attitude on full show.

"Uh, well, I wanted to apologize for being such a bitch these past few weeks."

"Hm, understatement of the century." Stiles chuckled with his mouth full.

"Actually, she can be 1,000 times worse. That was just level 1 bitchiness."

"Point taken. But why would you apologize? We get it you don't want to be our friend."

"That's not it, it's just... ugh... Look, it’s honestly a very long story, but moving around it’s hard to cut ties and start over for so long. After a while it’s easier to builds walls up and maintain everyone at arm’s length." They all stared at me. Hopefully I was getting through to them. "But this time I'm changing that. I want to be your friend and that's why I'm apologizing."

"Well, I don't know about the other guys, but I've always considered you my friend. I mean, I've considered Lydia my friend and she hates me."

"Oh, please, Stiles. I don't hate you, you're just, um.... special."

"I'll take it."

"We understand. And of course you're our friend, (Y/N). You were just too stubborn to notice." Scott smiled at me. "Now, is there more pizza?"

"How the hell did you two boys just finish two boxes of pizza?"

"We're growing?" Stiles said with his mouth full.

"Barely," Allison mumbled.

"You know I can hear you, right?"

"That's the point, Scott."

The whole room laughed and continued to enjoy a very pleasant afternoon. It felt weird to finally feel like I belonged somewhere; that there were people around me that cared for me despite my flaws. As I looked around the faces of the group that had welcomed me with open arms, I couldn’t help but feel that someone was missing; the person that had first accepted me.

The clock had hit 4 o’clock when the last piece of food was gone, and the gang had gone home. After cleaning up, I decided it was time to call Isaac. I didn’t like the person he had become after the bite. But I couldn’t say I didn’t understand. He felt confident, strong, but he was using the wrong outlet. Just like I was.

“So, you’re finally talking to me,” Isaac chuckled, a cocky tone to his voice.

“Only if you’re done being a douche.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ever since you turned into a werewolf you’ve been nothing short of unbearable with your cocky behavior and holier-than-thou attitude.” I could hear him shifting on the other line, the news taking him aback. It seems Derek hadn’t told his pack that I knew everything.

“H-how… who told you?”

“Derek, your alpha. He told me everything the other day. I know all about werewolves, kanimas, hunters, pack, blah, blah, blah. But none of that excuses your behavior,’’ I sighed. “So, are you done being a dick?”

“Maybe,” he chuckled. “Can I see you?”

“Sure. Why don’t we go grab a bite? I’ll pick you up.”

“Alright!” He sounded excited. “I’ll text you the address.”

After hanging up I decided to take a quick shower before leaving. I threw on a white t-shirt and jeans and paired them with my leather jacket. As I tied my boots, I reached for the keys of my dad’s Chevrolet Suburban. Hopefully, I didn’t crash. In the car, I typed in the address Isaac had sent me. It was an industrial loft not too far from my own home. I honked my horn to notify Isaac I was there as well as sent a text.

“Are you stalking me now?”

I jumped at the sound of Derek’s voice and the knock he left on my window. . He appeared like a ghost and leaned on my door. “I could say the same about you. I’ve never been here before.”

“I live here,” he laughed, pointing at the building. “It’s my loft.”

“I’m here to pick up Isaac,” I said sheepishly. “So, he’s been staying with you. I thought you live in the woods.”

“It’s my family’s house and it’s under my ownership, but it’s not under livable conditions. And, yes, Isaac has been staying with me.”

“Hey, Derek.” Isaac finally emerged from the doors and jogged up to my car, patting Derek on the back. The man’s expression rapidly changed as soon as Isaac joined the conversation. The playful smile he wore had been replaced by a menacing scowl. “We’re going out for a while. I’ll see you later.”

We said goodbye and as I drove off, I stared at Derek. His body was tense, and his jaw was clenched. He was angry, but I didn’t know why. When we were alone, he was a completely different person than what he showed to others. There was this terrifying façade that was impenetrable by everyone else, yet he was a completely different person with me; he was an Alpha to the others, but he was just Derek to me.

I parked the car at a small burger joint Isaac directed me to. It wasn’t too full, so our food came out quickly. We sat at a table in the back, far from any prying ears.

“So, what did you mean about this cocky attitude?” He popped a french fry into his mouth, playing around with his food. “You seemed quite mad about it. Mad enough that you avoided me for some time.”

“Ever since you transformed you’ve been carrying yourself like you’re above everyone, you don’t even bother to be respectful of teachers or anyone for that matter. I miss the old Isaac.”

“You mean the pushover wimpy kid?” He scoffed. “I can’t say the same.”

“That’s not what I meant.” My hand reached out to his clenched fist and his hold softened. “You were nice and respectful, and knew how to treat others because you knew how it felt to be mistreated. Of course, you could have done with more confidence, but that’s not what this is. It’s almost as if you’re turning into Jackson, heaven forbid.”

His eyes softened and I knew I was getting through the wall he had built up.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N). It's just… this is the first time in my life that I have felt powerful, like nothing and no one can touch me. I've dealt with so much shit that I thought I deserved to act like that," he sighed. "Can you ever forgive me?"

“You’re practically my best friend, how could I not?”

“Thanks.” He gave me a smile that I happily reciprocated. For the first time in a while, I was seeing the Isaac I had met some time ago. “So, what is it that you needed to speak to me so eagerly.”

“Remember how I mentioned that I would be moving at the end of the year so you shouldn’t get attached?” He nodded. “Well, it seems you’re gonna have to put up with me for a long time. Beacon Hills is now my home.”

“What?! That’s great!” He exclaimed a little too loud. Heads turned towards us and Isaac tried to hide his blush. “Does that mean we can truly be friends now? Not just study partners or casual conversation acquaintances?”

“Yes, Isaac. That’s exactly what that means,” I laughed. His face had lit up as the hard mask he wore finally broke apart. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you, what happened the night that I picked you up? It was such a weird night.”

His whole demeanor changed, clearly a sore subject to talk about. "If Derek told you what we are I presume he told you about everything else." I nodded. "The Kanima. It killed my father. We, um, had gotten into a fight and I ran out. It seems he went out looking for me but didn't get to me. I found him dead in his car, but I ran and called you."

" Isaac, why didn't you tell me? I mean, I know why you didn't tell me, but something; you should have told me something.” I looked into his eyes, worry evident in them. He had gone through such a traumatic event basically by himself. “Is that why the police were looking for you?"

He nodded. "They thought I had something to do with his murder because of something Jackson said. He was unfortunately my neighbor and had seen me running out of the house, but there were no tracks leading to me. I'm not a fugitive anymore." He smiled softly.

“I’m glad, Isaac, really. And I’m truly sorry for everything you’ve had to endure alone for all these years. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Thanks, (Y/N). At least that part of my life is over.”

“Now we just have to get that damn Kanima and get on with our lives.” We laughed.

Before we knew it, the sky outside had turned dark, signaling the arrival of the night. The car ride back was filled with mindless chitchat and soft background music. It had been a long few days and exhaustion was evident in both of us. Soon enough, the grey building had come into view.

“Do you want to come in for a bit?” Isaac leaned into the open window of the driver’s side.

“I think I’m just gonna head on home. I’m a bit tired and we have school tomorrow.” I smiled. “But, I’ll take you up on the offer someday.”

“Isaac, good to see you’re back,” Derek announced himself, his two betas following behind. “You’re late for training.”

“Sorry, Derek. Time slipped away.”

“Sorry won’t cut it.” His voice was commanding and a bit intimidating. I could see why everyone around me feared him. “Go with Erica and Boyd. Get started.”

'‘Bye, (Y/N). I’ll see you tomorrow.” I smiled and nodded, trying my best to comfort him.

“See you.” Derek stood back as we both watched the three figures disappear into the building. His chest moved, heaving, and he reeked of jealousy. “What’s your problem?”

“What?” Did he truly believe I was that oblivious? “I just…”

“You’re acting like a prissy child, Derek. You knew where Isaac was, who he was with, and that there was a possibility that he would come back late. There’s no need to grill him that hard.”

“He’s old enough to manage his time correctly, (Y/N). He needs to learn discipline. This has nothing to do with you.”

“Clearly, that’s not what’s happening here,’’ I laughed dryly. “Look, pardon the metaphor, but this whole alpha male act is gonna get very tiring, very quickly. If this is how you’re gonna be, don’t bother on scheduling that date this week.”

“Don’t be like that, (Y/N). I swear this has nothing to do with you. There are certain rules that we have to abide by, a different life. It’s complicated.”

“You’re not making any sense, Derek.”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Yesterday we said no secrets, Derek. What changed in the hours that have passed?”

“Nothing’s changed. I’m sorry if I seemed too harsh on Isaac, but I have to be. They’re young and reckless, and it’s my job to make sure they stay safe. No matter the cost.” He ran his hands across his face as he let out a loud sigh. “Why don’t we just keep the supernatural and our personal lives apart.”

“We can try that for a while, but they’re bound to intersect at some point.”

“I know, but…”

“Let’s play it your way and see how it goes, okay? And lay off Isaac and the others? They are just kids.”

“I’ll try,” he smiled softly. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“If I remember.”

I backed the car up and sped back to my house. When I opened the garage, my father was sitting on the spot where the car usually went. I had forgotten to tell them I would be gone, and my phone’s battery had died a while back. I was in so much trouble.

“Good to know you’re alive, darling daughter.” The sarcasm spewed from my father’s mouth, and it stung.

“I’m so sorry. I went out with a friend and my phone died. And I know I forgot to say I was leaving the house, but I rarely do that, so please forgive me.”

“Calm down, (Y/N),” he laughed. “We just wanted to make sure you were okay. You weren’t answering your phone, so we got worried. But remember, there’s a tracker on the car. We figured you were out. And I’m glad to hear you have a friend. It’s about time.”

“Thanks, dad.” He wrapped me in a hug and patted my head. If he knew who my friends were I’m sure he wouldn’t feel the same way. “But, if you knew where I was, what was this whole scary setup? I for sure thought you were going to kill me.”

“Nothing like that, honey. But your mother and I have something we have to talk to you about.”

“What is it? You can’t take back that we are staying.”

“It’s not that, but it is serious. Let’s go, your mom is waiting in the kitchen.”

My heart was beating at a rapid pace, a million thoughts running through my head. Although, at the bottom of my heart I knew what this talk was going to be about.

Tag List: @hellowinterlane​ @lokisgoddesofpower​ @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @malar-region

[evafrechette]

With A Little Help From My Hyung

↠ yoongi x seokjin | smut | friends to lovers, slow burn | 18+ | 2.4k

↠ Summary: Seokjin is the best roommate Yoongi could have asked for, he’s funny, respectful, a good cook and incredibly handsome. That’s a big problem though - because Yoongi has a constant boner over him.

↠ Warnings: eventual smut, drama queen yoongi, oblivious seokjin, blowjobs, standing sex, yoongi enjoys seokjin carrying him around, anal sex, yoongi is clumsy and hurts himself, which is a great excuse to have seokjin look after him, the other members make a small appearance, my fic usually has a few swear words, hyung kink???

"Hyung, stop it. Leave me alone." Yoongi's deep voice grumbled defiantly.

"Aish, quit being a baby Yoongi-yah, let me help." Seokjin held his hand out to the smaller man who sat on the cold concrete ground below him, food scattered around his aching body, tangerines rolling down the sidewalk.

Yoongi slapped away Seokjin's hand, scowling at his annoying roommate. He got onto his knees and attempted to stand, wincing in pain the moment he put pressure onto his left foot. Only moments before he and Seokjin had left the convenience store, arms full of energy drinks, jelly candy, ramen and tangerines. But Yoongi being Yoongi was busy in his own world and didn't notice the patch of ice on the footpath right in front of him, once his foot touched the slippery ice he slipped and wobbled about, struggling to balance before his legs came out from under him, falling directly onto his ass. Paper bag flying out of his grip, contents spilling onto the sidewalk.

He tried to stand again, taking his time as he clung onto Seokjin's arm, managing to get himself upright, left foot hovering above the ground, but when he placed it firmly against the sidewalk pain shot up his leg and he suddenly felt faint. "Shit, I think it's broken Hyung." He looked up into Seokjin's eyes, refusing to let the tears spill. Yoongi was in pain, a lot of fucking pain but he couldn't let his hyung see him be a cry baby.

"You hit the ground hard but it's probably just a sprain or something, I doubt it's broken. You're a real drama queen Min Yoongi. Can you stand by yourself for a bit?" Yoongi nodded in reply and let go of the elders arm, watching as he carefully rushed around picking up the spilled food and shoved it into his own bag. Seokjin walked back to Yoongi, spinning around so his back faced the man. He crouched down, holding the overfilled paper bag tight against his chest. "Jump on Yoongi-ah, and don't even try it with me. I'm your Hyung you have to listen to me."

Yoongi rolled his eyes but slowly hobbled over to his taller roommate, awkwardly jumping onto his back, arms wrapping around Seokjin's neck, and his short legs around his waist when the older man stood. "I don't have to listen to shit." He mumbled into Seokjin's messy brown hair. Seokjin let out his trademark high pitched laugh as he carried his injured roommate back towards their apartment, "You're so full of it Yoongi."

The walk would usually only take five minutes, but carrying a grown man (who enjoyed complaining every few minutes) had a part in the trip taking close to twenty. Yoongi laid his head on Seokjin's wide shoulders and enjoyed the way his oversized blue shirt smelled of a calming mix of lavender and vanilla bean, he took a mental note to check what brand of washing powder the man used when he got home.

Something about being carried on Seokjin's back made Yoongi's belly flip, he had never felt so small and vulnerable in his life. He was the strong one of their group - the pit bull, small but tough, with an acid tongue that could make a grown man cry. But being carried around by his cute, tall, goofy roommate was actually kind of comforting, it felt nice to snuggle against his broad shoulders.

Yoongi could feel his cheeks heating up, he had been crushing on his video game loving roommate for a few months now. At first the blond thought they were just compatible roommates, respecting each others boundaries and privacy, they quickly became friends bonding over their love of cooking, but along the way Yoongi developed feelings. His eyes lingering on Seokjin longer than what was socially acceptable, sneakily scooching closer to his side on the couch while he watched Seokjin get annihilated playing video games and "accidentally" falling asleep during their movie marathon nights, head resting comfortably against Seokjin's shoulder. But Yoongi knew nothing would come of his little crush so he kept his feelings locked away and instead tried to focus on their good friendship instead.

Seokjin carefully placed Yoongi on the couch, pushing a cushion under his now swollen foot. He rushed off to Yoongi's room and returned with a blanket which he draped over the smaller man. With a happy hum he walked towards the kitchen and Yoongi watched with lovesick eyes as he put away their food shopping. Everytime Seokjin reached up for the top shelf his shirt would raise a little, giving Yoongi a glimpse of the tantalising caramel skin underneath. Yoongi longed to drag his calloused fingertips along that skin, to leave small kisses down Seokjin's spine, along his lower back and down over his firm ass. He sought to taste Seokjin, to feel his cock heavy on his tongue, to feel the burn of his cock stretching him out.

"Hey Yoongi are you okay?" A cool hand placed against his forehead brought Yoongi out of his Seokjin induced daze. His roommate was looking at him with fondness and concern, "Your cheeks are really red but you're not hot or anything. I thought maybe you were coming down with a fever." Yoongi knew he was even redder now, but he allowed himself to relax against the man's hand. He sighed when Seokjin withdrew his hand and moved to sit on the bean bag on the floor. "Yeah, no I'm fine. Just a bit embarrassed about this." Yoongi waved his hand over his ankle.

"Aish, these things happen. Just have to be more careful. And Hyung is here to take care of you okay? Anything you need you let me know. Keep that boney ass of yours on the couch."

The pair spent the rest of the night watching a marathon of Law of the Jungle, empty containers of ramen and Kloud draft beer scattered across the coffee table. Yoongi as usual was unable to keep the snarky comments to himself, "Pfft look at them! Useless. I could survive on that island so much better than any of them." He quipped as a team of celebrities dived into the ocean to try to catch fish with just their hands.

"Errrr Yoongi-yah, did you forget that I had to carry your tiny ass home this evening? Your weak ankles wouldn't last a day on that show." Seokjin doubled over in laughter, clapping his hands loudly as Yoongi rolled his eyes.

"Whatever Jin-hyung," he scoffed, "Like you'd do any better."

"Pretty sure I'd do great on a show like this! You've seen me fishing Yoongi, I'm practically a professional at it now."

Yoongi groaned at this, Seokjin had dragged him out fishing more times than he could even count and he was nowhere near a professional level. The last time they went fishing together Seokjin didn't catch a single fish. He did manage to catch some seaweed and disintegrating plastic bag though.

Yoongi could feel his eyelids getting heavy, and instead of fighting the feeling allowed himself to drift off to sleep, which wasn't hard as sleep was his favourite hobby after all. Yoongi was having a beautiful dream, he was being carried in Seokjin's strong arms as the brunette carried him along the golden hues of a sandy beach, gentle waves breaking along the shore splashing against Seokjin's bare feet. He mirrored Seokjin's smile as his Hyung looked down at him, carrying him bridal style while the breeze whispered sweetly around them both.

"Aish, Yoongi you are a pain in my ass, but you're kinda cute so it's okay I guess." His gummy smile widened at the sweet but slightly insulting words. "What are you smiling about you weirdo." Seokjin let out a small laugh.

Yoongi was confused, why was dream Seokjin insulting him? It took him a few seconds to realise that he was actually awake and that he was no longer asleep on the couch, but rather in the arms of his Hyung. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and let his body go slack against Seokjin's chest, adding a few very realistic soft snores for good measure. Yoongi felt his body fall gently against the cold mattress on his bed, shivering slightly at the loss of heat from Seokjin's warm body. A blanket was dragged up his body, before footsteps retreated out of the room and the door clicking shut quietly.

Yoongi's eyes widened once he was alone in the dark room, had he heard correct? Did Seokjin just call him cute? It took all his self control not to squeal like a teenage girl. He wiggled down the mattress, throwing the blankets over his head and snuggled into his soft pillows. That night Yoongi had the best sleep of his life, with a smile on his face and a hard cock in his pants.

-----

The following weekend Yoongi found himself squished between his friends Jungkook and Hoseok in the back seat of Jimin's tiny Hyundai Pony hatchback. Usher's 'U Remind Me' thumped out of the piss-poor and incredibly outdated sound system, tinny and grating on his ears. His friends, including Taehyung who was sitting in the passenger seat, were singing along at the top of their lungs, he threw his head back and groaned. Why did he get stuck with the loud idiots of their group? Yoongi peered through the windscreen, tall, shapely pine trees lined the dirt road they traveled along. Dust swirled around the car, a curtain of brown blocking the view of the car travelling behind them. The sky was dotted with grey clouds, slowly drifting across the sky hiding the sun, who was trying it's hardest to make an appearance.

The car full of friends pulled into a small gravel parking lot and climbed out of the stuffy vehicle. They watched as the trailing car pulled up beside them, excitedly chatting and joking around now that everyone had finally arrived. Today was Namjoon's choice of activity, one Yoongi was secretly dreading - Hiking. He cast a glance towards Seokjin who was dressed in a pair of black and white track suit pants, sneakers, wide brim bucket hat with drawcord and a fluffy cream jumper. He swallowed hard at the thought of wrapping his arms around Seokjin's waist and resting his head against his fleece covered chest. He looked so snuggly and warm and cute, yeah, really really cute.

Yoongi zoned out while the others planned their trek, his mind too focused on Seokjin's beautiful plush lips, enthralled by how his Hyung randomly pouted while he spoke, his plump bottom lip puffing out before returning back to normal. Yoongi found this habit of Seokjin's incredibly endearing and wondered if the man was even aware of what he was doing. Or at just how crazy it was making Yoongi feel.

"Is everyone okay with the plan?" Namjoon asked, slipping away a map into the front pocket of his jacket. The group all spoke at once, loud and chaotic as usual. "Okay well let's go!"

The group trekked for a few hours, enjoying the challenging course. Up and down steep inclines, weaving through lush forest and snaking between narrow boulders that sat unsteadily on either side of their path. They eventually came across a small stream that separated the gravel path, Yoongi looked down at his feet and whined. "Do we have to go through that? I'm wearing brand new shoes." His nose scrunched as he caught sight of the shallow murky water he knew he would have to trudge through.

"Why would you wear new shoes on a hike Yoongi?" Hoseok laughed, clapping the smaller man on the back. Yoongi glared at his friend, tempted to turn around and walk back to the car. Fuck nature.

"Don't worry about it Yoongi-yah, climb on." Seokjin smiled, bending down in front of Yoongi, memories of the previous weekend flooded Yoongi's thoughts. Without hesitation Yoongi climbed onto his back, legs wrapping around his waist tightly. He placed his chin into the crook of Seokjin's shoulder and sighed as herbal scented hair brushed across his nose.

"O-okay then, well errr let's get going then." Namjoon raised his eyebrow, the rest of the group watching quizzically as Seokjin happily carried Yoongi across the stream. They exchanged looks with each other, hushed whispers at what had just transpired, Yoongi knew the others would be talking, getting a piggy back ride was pretty out of character for him, but he was blissfully peaceful at that very moment. So fuck what anyone thought.

-----

Back at their apartment that night the pair settled into their usual routine of cheap ramen, beer and trashy kdramas on the television.

"Hey Hyung, thanks for picking me up today," Yoongi bit nervously into his thumbnail, a habit he struggled to free himself from, "You didn't need to . . Hobi was right though, those shoes cost $300 why did I choose to wear them today?" Yoongi knew exactly why - he was trying to look good for Seokjin. He had dashed out to a Camping and Fishing store after work to purchase an entirely new outfit for the day. He settled on a long sleeved yellow and green flannel shirt, khaki trousers and a blue and black fleece fila jacket. Plus those damn tramping boots that cost as much as his share of the rent.

Seokjin leaned in, inches away from Yoongi's face, breath catching in the back of his throat, heart hammering against his rib cage. "It was my pleasure," Seokjin grabbed Yoongi by the cheeks and pinched, jiggling the flushed skin between his thumb and index finger, "That's what a good Hyung does, helps their cry baby friends out." He laughed, letting go of Yoongi and plopping back down onto his side of the couch. Yoongi's hand shot up to his cheek, fingers brushing along his warm skin. Seokjin's touch felt amazing, electric sparks coursed through his body, Yoongi wanted those hands touching him in places that crossed the line from friends to lovers, those long fingers curling up inside of him brushing against his sweet sensitive spot, wrapped around his cock pumping him until it was too much to handle and he was screaming Seokjin's name while he spilled his release over his Hyungs hand.

Yoongi found it hard to concentrate on the television in front of him, eyes constantly drifting towards his roommate who looked amazing in a pair of grey shorts and loose white T-shirt, his feet curled up underneath him, strong thigh muscles catching Yoongi's attention. He cleared his throat and quickly averted his eyes, Yoongi wasn't sure how much more of Seokjin he could deal with. He was the perfect roommate, but his desire to be fucked by the man was becoming an every minute of the day kinda thing. Maybe Yoongi needed to hurry up and move out. He thought about Seokjin at work, while doing his laundry, on the bus to the grocery store, while putting the rubbish out, when pumping his dildo in and out of his ass, Seokjin was on his mind 24/7.

Yoongi's cock twitched as he watched the couple on television, the male lead carrying the female through a cherry blossom lined park while a terrible ballad wailed in the background. He decided that being carried was his newest kink. Or maybe Seokjin's entire existence was his fetish? He tugged on his hoop earring as his thoughts travelled to a million different scenarios in which Seokjin would need to lift and carry him around. He recalled the previous weekend, waking up while Seokjin carried him to bed, how nice it felt to be held in Seokjin's arms, to hear him call Yoongi cute. He wanted, no he needed that again.

Yoongi glanced out of the corner of his eye, the brunette’s head was down as he browsed at something on his phone, he watered his lips and decided now was the perfect time to enact his master plan. Yoongi closed his eyes and let out a loud yawn, arms stretched high above his head, "Mmmm what's the time?" He asked Seokjin drowsily. "Huh? Oh it's  9:23, are you tired already?" The brunette placed his phone on the coffee table and shifted to face Yoongi. "You're not? We walked a million miles today, of course I'm tired." For theatrics he let out another yawn. Seokjin shrugged and took a sip of his beer. "Guess I've got a better stamina than you."

Over the next half an hour Yoongi let out more fake yawns, complaining about his sore muscles and tired bones - which Seokjin informed him wasn't a real thing and that he was being a whiny old man again. His body sunk into the couch, head lolling against the arm rest as he feigned falling asleep. It would only be a matter of time before he would be whisked away in Seokjin's arms and it was making him giddy, trying his hardest not to crack a smile. Yoongi heard the room fall silent, the television now switched off. His heart was racing, this was it - the big moment - his hands were softly shaking, breath uneven and shallow.

"Hey Yoongi, wake up." A large hand shook his arm attempting to wake him from his faux slumber. His eyebrows furrowed, this wasn't how it was supposed to go. Seokjin was supposed to pick him up and carry him to the bedroom, whisper a few sweet words in his ear and maybe jerk him off a bit. He opened his eyes and glared at the handsome man standing over him, his plans were ruined and he and his neglected cock were pretty pissed off.

"Why didn't you just carry me Hyung?" Yoongi sulked, crossing his arms against his chest like a defiant toddler.

"W-why would I? You can walk your legs aren't broken."

"Well you've been carrying me around a lot recently so I just thought you'd do it again tonight. Ahhh fuck it whatever." He mumbled, avoiding eye contact with the brunette who was trying his hardest not to laugh.

"Aish, Yoongi-yah do you enjoy Seokjinnie lifting you up and carrying you around?" He could no longer hold it in, erupting into a fit of laughter.

Yoongi's cheeks burnt bright red, he was already a small man but he had never felt as small as he did right at this moment. Tears threatened to spill over his long lashes, he knew he was being a little dramatic but his heart was practically ripped out of his chest by his crush. Yoongi bowed his head refusing to look anywhere other than at his hands which were clasped together tightly.

"Wait, shit Yoongi I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you cry," Seokjin dropped down onto his knees and engulfed Yoongi's hands with his own. "So you do enjoy being carried by me?"

Yoongi sniffed, "Yeah. I like a lot about you Hyung, the carrying thing is one of my favourites though."

An awkward silence filled the room, Yoongi's sniffles the only sound to break the dead air. "Well uh, there is a lot I like about you too," he stroked his thumb against the back of Yoongi's hand softly and slowly. "I like your dry sense of humor, the way you screech when you're excited - that is so adorable. I like how passionate you are about music and I really like how your cheeks turn red whenever we touch each other by accident. I sorta brush up against you on purpose just to see it."

A gasp escaped Yoongi's lips, head snapping up to look into the dark chocolate eyes of his roommate. Seokjin's cheeks puffed wide as he gave Yoongi a sweet smile, his thumb continuing to draw circles over Yoongi's hands which were resting in his lap. "I think you're cute Yoongi-yah, and I'd love to kiss you. If you'd allow me to of course."

Yoongi's eyes darted to Seokjin's plump lips, inviting and glistening. He couldn't hold back any longer, throwing himself forward as he smashed their lips together, hungry and desperate. In the wild rush of lips and tongues exploring new territory their noses bumped together, deep chuckles slipping out between kisses. Yoongi's hands frantically grasped onto Seokjin's hair, pulling him down so their body's were close but it still wasn't enough, he needed to feel naked flesh against his own. Yoongi's long fingers travelled underneath Seokjin's thin cotton T-shirt and brushed against his soft stomach, over his nipples rubbing the hard nubs between his fingers and then back down his chest. He played with the elastic waist of Seokjin's shorts, dipping his hand inside, fingers grazing the wiry mound of pubic hair just above where his hands really wanted to touch, "I-is this okay Hyungie?" Yoongi whimpered, Seokjin's tongue running along the exposed skin of his neck, teeth nipping the soft skin.

"Mmmm yeah, touch Hyung Yoongi." Seokjin bit down gently his teeth scraping the skin. He attached his lips against the smaller man's neck, alternating between sucking on the warm flesh and sly little nibbles, creating deep purple bruises that contrasted beautifully against Yoongi's pale skin. While Seokjin was busy marking his neck, Yoongi pulled his cock out of the shorts and stroked sensually up and down his length, which was growing harder and stiffer in his hand. His hand glided over Seokjin's length at a quickening pace, flicking his wrists and gripping tight around the head before pulling off and pumping again. Yoongi added another hand on Seokjin's shaft and slowly twisted in opposite directions, up then down, left then right.  His fingers played with the tip of his cock, pressing his thumb into the slit, stroking playfully over the head.

"Fuck your cock feels amazing Hyung," Yoongi sighed, Seokjin's cock pulsing in his grip, "C-can we fuck?"

Seokjin removed his swollen lips from Yoongi's neck with a 'pop' and took his time licking along the already fucked out man's lips, pressing their soft flesh against each other, gentle kisses that were in in opposition of the acceleration of Yoongi's heart beat. Seokjin sat between Yoongi's legs on the floor, hands roaming over the blonds thighs. When he reached Yoongi's crotch his fingers ghosted over Yoongi's hard cock visible through his sweats, he bucked his hips desperate for Seokjin's touch.

"Hyung's got you Yoongi, just sit back and relax hmmm?" He placed a sloppy wet kiss against the fleece material and helped pull them down to Yoongi's ankles. "Such a pretty cock Yoongi-yah." Seokjin's voice was smooth and sweet. His fingers grazed against Yoongi's balls, eyes flicking back up to watch Yoongi's reaction. He continued to massage his sack, pulling lightly and wiggling the weight in his hand. He rubbed his cheek along the soft skin of Yoongi's balls and then up and down his incredibly hard shaft. Tongue flicking out to leave small licks along the side, down to his balls and then further below to the sweet spot between Yoongi's balls and warm inviting hole.

Yoongi's slit was leaking precum so Seokjin lapped it up, moaning sinfully. A groaned escaped the back of Yoongi's throat when Seokjin took his balls into his mouth, sucking and kissing all over. He took his time enjoying their heat in his mouth. He stroked the blonds length while sucking the pale skin of Yoongi's inner thighs. Seokjin sat back and removed he and Yoongi's bottoms completely, throwing the pants into a small pile in the corner of the room. He stood and motioned for Yoongi to stand with him. Their lips crashed against another's once more, Yoongi standing on his tippy toes to match his Hyungs height. A knee slipped between Yoongi's thighs as the two men continued to taste and explore each others mouths.

"Shit, we need lube, uhhh, don't move Yoongi-yah! I'll be back quickly." Seokjin ran towards his bedroom leaving Yoongi standing naked from the waist down in their living room, cock red and hot. He gripped onto the base and squeezed tight, moaning at his own touch. Seokjin returned cock glistening from the lube, bouncing with every step. Yoongi gulped, Seokjin was longer than any cock his ass had taken before but god was he eager to have it inside him.

They kissed passionately while Seokjin fingered Yoongi's hole, stretching him open enough for his cock. Yoongi's mind had turned to mush, absolutely lost in the moment. It was as though Seokjin had flicked a switch in his ass to become a whimpering, whining mess. Seokjin bent his knees and using his right hand guided his cock into Yoongi's tight hole. Once inside he allowed Yoongi to get used to his size while his hands reached out to wrap around Yoongi's small waist. Without warning he lifted Yoongi, a squeak echoing in the silent room. "You are adorable Yoongi-yah, can't wait to hear more noises come from those pretty lips." Yoongi's legs wrapped around Seokjin's waist which readjusted their position, cock now deeper than before, big hands reached down to Yoongi's ass holding him in place as they walked out of the living room and into the hallway.

Yoongi held on tight, gripping onto strong shoulders as he was pushed against the wall with a thud. Seokjin's arms trembled from Yoongi’s weight so he started to pound into his ass before it was too much and he would have to let him go. Yoongi let out tiny pants and whimpers, eyelids half closed, mouth so slack drool was starting to drip from the corners. Seokjin's cock grazed over his prostate, hitting deep and hard with every thrust. "Hyung, hy-hyung ahh ah so good." His hands roamed over Seokjin's back leaving red and pink marks underneath the thin material of his shirt. His cock was trapped between their bodies, friction from their movements driving him insane.

Sweat dripped down Seokjin's face, his arms close to giving out. This was more intense than any workout his personal trainer at the gym had given him. He slammed his cock into Yoongi repeatedly eager to cum inside his ass. Yoongi's whimpers in his ear pushed Seokjin to his peak and exploded his white hot cum into Yoongi's warm hole.

They stood still while Seokjin caught his breath, Yoongi hanging onto his neck for dear life, almost as though the floor was lava. "Hyungie make me come, pleaseeeee I'm so close." Yoongi whined, nipping at Seokjin's lips then pouting against the plush flesh. He would rather be dead than admit it, but Seokjin was right - he was a bit of a drama queen. "I'll have to put you down though, I think my arms are about to fall off." Seokjin chuckled as Yoongi detached his legs from around the brunette's waist and placed them on the floor.

Seokjin reached down and gripped tight onto Yoongi's aching cock, moving his hand in a steady rhythm. Their foreheads touched, breathing in each others air, hushed pants and whimpers shared between the pair as they kiss messily, lips grazing chins and teeth clinking. Yoongi bucked into Seokjin's grip, incredibly close to his high. Seokjin's cum escaping slowly out of his hole and running down his creamy white thighs and the hand around his cock pushed Yoongi to his release, "Ah-ah Hyung don't stop, ahh I'm going to come, shit ahh." His body tensed as he came harder than ever before, Seokjin barely moving his hand as his cock throbbed and pulsated.

"Hyung, you have no idea how long I've wanted this to happen." Yoongi sighed, wrapping his hands around Seokjin's neck, fingers crawling their way up to thread through short dark hair. "I've wanted to do that since the day I moved in," Seokjin whispered in reply, ears turning crimson, "Come on let's get cleaned up and then cuddle."

-----

The pair made their way into Seokjin's bed, snuggled between a mess of cushions and soft toys, their limbs a tangled mess as impatient hands explored naked skin. They laughed as revelations of their feelings for each other were finally said out loud, cheeks tight and sore from smiling so hard. "Seokjin-hyung can we do this more often?" Yoongi's eyes avoided the naked man beside him focusing on the window pane instead. "Well I would hope so since I want to make your my boyfriend Yoongi-yah." Fingers caught hold of Yoongi's chin as his face was guided towards Seokjin's, a shy kiss planted on his lips. "Yes Hyung, fuck yes I'll be your boyfriend."

The roommates turned lovers drifted off to sleep that night with satisfied smiles on their faces, excited for what the future would hold for them both.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Cutie Pie | Sweet Pea

Hey Lovelies! Still updating from my Wattpad! Today’s feature: Sweet Pea! On another note; I think I’m going to open my requests for Thanksgiving! What do y’all think? All my love!!

Description: Y/n, Southside sweetheart, thinks Sweet Pea despises her. He really, really, does not.

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Female!Reader

Warnings: Hints at smut but not really

Word count: 3k

Tags: Fluff, angst

Toni groans and throws another top on the growing pile of shirts that she has deemed unwearable. You had seen nothing wrong with it, a flowing pink blouse with cream polka dots. To her, however, it was too girly. You had scoffed at that. There's nothing wrong with femininity, she of all people should understand that. Maybe if she had wanted something that screams masculinity she should have raided Sweet Pea's closet instead of yours.

The Serpents seem to think there is something wrong with being girly though, looking down on anyone who dares wear anything pink or flowery and definitely anyone who wears both at the same time. You roll your eyes at that every time. You, a teenage Serpent yourself, are perhaps the most "girly" person to have ever set foot on Southside grounds. You take pride in that, wearing your Serpent jacket over all the ballerina skirts and pretty pink bralettes that your flowery heart desires. Yes, you get glares all the time but the switchblade in the pocket of your cherry blossom backpack just begs them to start something they can't finish.

"Y/n, baby, I love you but your closet is a nightmare! Do you have nothing remotely black? Or skimpy! C'mon, you want to impress Sweet Pea don't you?" Toni's voice is teasing and your cheeks flame in embarrassment and a tinge of anger.

"I would never dress to impress," you make air quotes with your fingers and pretend to gag, hiding the unavoidable lust in your voice before you say his name, "Sweet Pea! He's a jackass who's high on some masculinity crap! I can't do that."

She smirks at you from the mirror she's applying her bright red lipstick in, "you can very much do that and I know you want to. You're telling me that you don't lay awake at night and imagine his hands, his very large hands, doing unspeakable things to you? You may be the cutest little thing we've got on the Southside but you, baby girl, want him bad. Trust me, I know. I'm your best friend."

"Yeah, well, you're wrong and even if I did want, well, all that," you blush at the thought and swallow hard, pushing down at the buzz in the pit of your stomach, "he hates me so it would never happen. Theoretically, of course!"

"Uh huh, sure," is all your pink haired best friend says before turning back to your baby blue, vintage vanity to curl her pink locks.

You cross your arms over you aqua t-shirt, feigning annoyance, "and just what is that supposed to mean, missy?"

"Just that we both know you're turned on from just hearing Sweets' name. And he doesn't hate you, I roll with the guys remember," she catches your wide, doe eyes in the mirror and shakes her head lightly, laughing softly at your blown pupils, "he wants you. Bad."

You scoff again, leaning down to tie up your white tennis shoes, "he does not. He thinks I'm weak; that I'm going to bring down the pack.”

"He feels like he needs to protect you. There is a difference," Toni stands, twirling in front of your mirror to approve her outfit for tonight.

Some of the Serpent teens are gathering at the quarry, much like they do most weekends, to hang out. Today is special, though, because it's the last weekend before summer ends and you're all forced to go back to an educational prison. You're heart races knowing that Sweet Pea will, in fact, be there tonight. He's a jerk, at least he seems like one. Every time you’ve spoken to him it's been to tell him to let you handle your own problems. Granted most of your problems have involved ghoulies trying to make you their lunch because of your cute aura and quiet voice but he's never given you an opportunity to prove yourself. No one has.

Your voice is soft, like usual, but a tad annoyed, "I don't need protection. Why does everyone assume that I do?"

"Because you're so cute we could just eat you up!" Toni leans over to pinch your cheeks and you try not to giggle because that would only prove her point, "also, that isn't what you're wearing, is it?"

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" You peek around her and scrutinize your outfit.

An aquamarine t-shirt that stops right before a pair of fashionably baggy, cuffed jean shorts. The same pair of pink pearl earrings that you always wear are in your ears and the white tennis shoes you just laced are on your feet. Your worn Serpent jacket hangs proudly off your shoulders, the bright red patches bold against the black leather. The cherry blossom backpack is settled on your bed, ready to be grabbed and filled with your reusable water bottle, rose perfume, matching cherry blossom wallet, and switchblade, of course. All in all, it’s the perfect outfit.

You glance up to see Toni just smiling lightly at you, "Nothing, you're right. It's perfect."

                                               *     *     *     *     *    

Like usual, you and Toni take her bike to the quarry. You don't have your own bike so you ride behind her, your arms around her waist, her sugary scent blowing at you in full force, and your head thrown back, hollering into the wind. The two of you have been best friends for as long as you can remember. Nobody would have ever seen it coming. You were always playing in princess dresses and she was the pirate storming the tea party in search of cookies that were dubbed gold. You're polar opposites yet she's, perhaps, the only one who really knows how alike you are.

You arrive at the quarry laughing and cheering like maniacs, nothing out of the norm. You swing your legs over the side of her bike, hopping off gracefully and smoothing back your wind blown hair. It's dusk, the sun having just set, and there are mason jar lights sitting on the picnic tables and fairy lights strung through the trees. For such a rowdy gang, there is soft indie music floating through the air; the final touch to, dare you say, a romantic atmosphere. You couldn't be more proud.

A familiar arm is slung over your shoulders, pulling you into a playful side hug.

"Fogarty! I haven't seen you all summer," you swing yourself into a real hug, latching your arms around his neck and squeezing as he pulls you off your toes, "where have you been, Fangsy?"

He chuckles and sets you back on your feet, ruffling your hair and grabbing one of your hands to twirl you around, "hey cupcake, it's good to see you too. I've been here and there, sorry I wasn't around."

You giggle and shake your head, pulling him to sit at the practically full picnic table that Toni claimed. The table cheers when they see you, pulling you in for hugs and playing with your hair. You hear a couple voices tell you that you look cute and others telling you to come sit with them. You slide your backpack off, placing it under the table when you find an empty spot. Before you can take your seat, however, a pair of muscled arms circles your waist, pulling you onto their lap and stealing your seat for themselves.

A leather and pine scent envelopes you as the table breaks out in hooting laughter, "Sweet Pea this is my seat. As in singular. Mine."

All he does is tighten his arms deliciously around your hips, pressing down slightly on your lower stomach and making you very much aware of the intimacy of your position. You look to Toni for help but all she does is wink, turning her head to join one of the many side conversations taking place. You sit in silence for a while, as stiff as a board in Sweet Pea's lap. You aren't uncomfortable so much as nervous. You can't lie, you've been practically in love with Sweets for as long as you can remember but, until now, he has barely shown you any form of affection besides ‘saving’ your sorry butt on numerous occasions.

"Relax, baby," he mumbles into your neck for only you to hear, "it's just me."

You want to yell at him for calling you baby, you really do, but it sounds so perfect coming from his lips and his mouth on your neck is too pleasurable to push away. Instead, going against everything you stand for, you sink into his broad chest, leaning your head under his chin and pulling one of his hands into both of yours.

"Much better," his chest rumbles softly under your back.

"Pea we're supposed to hate each other, remember?" You toy with his fingers, noting their size and remembering your conversation with Toni from earlier today.

She wasn't wrong, thoughts of his hands, among other parts of him, keep you awake at night. You can feel the heat creeping up your neck.

He leans down, skimming his lips over your earlobe while he answers, "Since when? I never got that memo."

His hand moves from your hip to the waistband of your shorts, his fingers dipping in and resting on the skin under your naval. You bite back an unexpected moan at his lips and searing fingertips, leaning further into his chest and shifting your hips backward to fully press yourself against him. You let go of his hand in exchange for digging your fingernails into the picnic table. His hands are hidden, given him all the encouragement he needs to slide his now free hand up your bare thigh, drawing circles with his thumb on the inside of it.

"Sweets," your voice is raw, "what are you doing?"

"Showing you just how much I don't hate you."

His lips inconspicuously move to your neck, claiming the skin under your jaw as his own in the darkness. His hand draws further up your thigh, under the denim of your shorts and stopping at the apex of your thigh.

"Let me show you that I very much do not hate you, baby," he murmurs into your ear, the hand in the waistband of your shorts skimming over your skin in mesmerising patterns.

"Not here," you force the words pass you lips, melting into his touch.

"Then let's go," he practically pleads into your ear and it's all you can do not to wrap your legs around him right here and right now, nodding desperately as he scoops you into his arms and stands up.

You giggle loudly and, for the first time tonight, you're able to see his face. He's smiling down at you, a soft look in his molten chocolate eyes. His stare soon turns heated and he licks his lips, drawing your eyes to his mouth. Your arms tighten around his neck, pulling you flush against his chest. You turn to look at the table in time to see Toni nudge Fangs and point to the two of you, smirking at you when she catches your eye.

"Well guys," Sweet Pea addresses the table as he walks stealthily backwards, "it's been fun but we're going to head out now."

Before anyone can protest you lean up and whisper run in his ear. Before you know it he's sprinting to his motorcycle, the table of hollering Serpents shouting words of advice at your back. One that rings louder in the night is your best friend's voice screaming to "use protection". You blush and bury your head into Sweets' shoulder.

He sets you down on his bike when he reaches it, placing his hands on your hips and staring into your eyes through the darkness. The tension between you is tangible. You can hear every inhale he takes, imagining his bare chest moving over your own. In the blink of an eye you reach up and hook your arms around his neck, pulling his lips to yours. Sparks dance up your spine and his hands find your hips. Fire burns everywhere he touches you.

You break the kiss quickly, "crap Pea, my backpack! I left it under the table!"

His eyes are still closed and he finds you lips once more, pressing another kiss to you lips, "okay baby, wait here, I'll go grab it."

"No, it's okay I ca-"

"Baby, just let me go get it," he stares into your eyes, pleading with you to let him go retrieve your backpack.

"Fine."

You watch him run back towards the others. You don't realise how dark it is until your all alone and the woods around the quarry become more prominent. Every noise you hear sets you on edge. You swear you keep hearing twigs snap but it's only your imagination, right? It has to be. That or Sweet Pea is pulling a prank on you. Maybe you should have just gone to get your bag with him.

You hear another twig snap and tense up. You ball your hands into fists, readying for anything. You can fight, that puts you somewhat at ease. Toni is the only one who knows that, spare a few older Serpent women who aren't in Riverdale anymore, because they had been the ones to rough you up during your gauntlet. Yes you, the softest girl on the Southside, refused to do the dance. There were no rules prohibiting you from the gauntlet so you opted for it instead. Needless to say, you can take a hit.

"You little skank!" A voice sounds from behind you, causing you to whirl around.

In front of you stands a tall redhead with hair to her elbows. Her serpent jacket clings to her slim form, accentuating her curves in a way that makes you jealous. She wears a paint of off brand skinny jeans and a black t-shirt that's a little too tight. Her eyes are bright green and furious, glaring bloody murder at you. You have no clue who she is.

"Uhm, excuse me?" You glance behind you just to make sure she isn't talking to some else.

"You heard me, slut. Who the hell do you think you are? Sitting on my man's lap?"

The ‘slut’ thing doesn't bother you and neither does the ‘who the hell’. She doesn't know you so you refuse to take her meaningless words to heart. However, the part where she claims Sweet Pea has you seeing red.

"Amazing. Everything that you've just said is wrong." You smile innocently at her, curling your hands into fists once more behind your back.

"I'm sorry? What did you just say to me?" She takes a step towards you, her chucks cracking another stick.

"Oh, sorry, let me explain. My name is y/n, not slut,” you counter her step with one of your own, “that's who I am. Oh, and he's not your man. If he is than why is he pulling me onto his lap instead of you?” you scrunch your eyebrows and look her up and down, “Oh, wait, who are you again?"

Your sugary sweet smile turns sinister in the blink of an eye; the same amount of time it takes her to charge at you. The words ‘cat fight’ ring in your ears as you dodge a poorly thrown left hook. You use the opportunity to land a blow to her exposed stomach. She coughs quietly and you step back to give her room, trying to be as kind as you can to someone who's wrongly accusing you of being a harlot. You're caught off guard though when she lunges for you, knocking you to the ground and pinning your legs under her.

Rookie mistake number two. She goes to swing again but before she can you grab her shoulders and roll, ending in a straddled position with her arms secured over her head. You smirk triumphantly down at the red head under you.

You plan to keep her there until Sweet Pea gets back but she decides to, rather stupidly, open her mouth, "I bet this is a familiar position for you, huh?"

It's not red that you see this time but blackness. All you remember is calling her a bitch and the next thing you know your hands are bruised and you're being pulled, legs kicking in protest, off the red head who now has a busted eye and a bloody nose. You're screaming at whoever has you in their grasp to let you go another round with the nameless girl. A mass of teen Serpents surrounds you, cheering loudly for you. 

"Baby, as hot as that was, I'm not putting you down," a familiar voice whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You look back at the bloodied girl on the ground. She makes eye contact with you from around Fangs who's trying to help her stand up. You don't know where the reckless idea comes from but, to be fair, you aren't really thinking straight right now. Perhaps that's why you follow through with the plan you have just hastily concocted in your head.

You toss the red head a cute smile and mumble delicately to the tall raven haired boy, "hey, Sweets?"

"Yeah y/n?"

You glance up at him, still in his arms, and pull his lips to yours. You kiss him slowly, drawing it out for as long as you can before you have to breath again. You keep your lips millimetres from his, pressing them against his softly a few more times. When you look back to the ground, the girl is nowhere in sight and the rest of the Serpents have migrated back to the picnic tables. Your cherry blossom back pack is settled at Sweet Pea's feet.

"So," you giggle at his dazed expression, "do you still feel like you need to protect me?"

"Yes," your face falls and you almost push yourself from his arms.

"But, to be fair, I always will. That's just me. You looked amazing fighting though. Absolutely fucking beautiful."

"Okay," you kiss his jaw softly, "I think I can handle that. Now can we please get out of here?"

"Fuck yes!"

[bump1nthen1ght]

Deep Blue Sea (Shark Merman x Reader) Chapter 2

Pairing: Gender Neutral! Reader/Shark Merman

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Soulmate AU

Warning: Slight description of Animal Violence. Nothing too graphic, but if the genre of stuff you see on Shark week isn’t for you, skip over the part denoted by the *******

Word Count: 3530 words

Summary: You learn more about Cruz and about yourself

Prologue

Chapter 1

“-and then he just leaves. What do I even do with that?”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Your roommate hums, refilling up your glass of wine. “And you don’t have his number, so you can’t call or text him right?” You take a large sip, nodding and trying not to spill wine on your pajamas.

Well, kind of.

You hadn’t told anyone about Cruz, not even your family, because frankly you didn't know where to start. But when you walked into the apartment, sullen and dragging your feet, your roommate, Caitlyn, had offered wine, ice cream, and a willing ear. That's when the floodgates opened (with some modified details, of course).

“We’re meeting at our usual place in a couple days, I just…”Another sip of wine,”...hate sitting here, not knowing what he’s feeling, what I did, how I’m feeling.” You set down your glass and throw yourself back against the couch, sinking into the cushions. “I feel so stupid, like a fucking teenager, and I hate it.” Caitlyn sets her own wine glass down and nudges the half-empty ice cream carton towards you.

“It’s for the best your feeling all this now, then you can come at ‘im all composed and articulate. Really throw him off his game.” You grab a spoon and the carton, Caitlyn patting your shoulder as you take a pathetic bite.

“You’re right but I-I don’t even know. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Sounds like this guy’s got you hooked. At least that’s a start right?” Caitlyn hums, pressing her chin into her palm. “To be completely honest, Sam took a couple days to warm up to me. And I never told her this, but she gave me hardcore pretentious vibes on our first date.”

Caitlyn gives a long spiel about her awkward first soulmate date (“Seriously, who brings up ‘the superiority of vinyl’ on the first date!”), and if you were in the mind to be a good roommate, or hadn’t heard this story before, you might’ve listened closer. But only one question was occupying your thoughts; Did Cruz like you?

--------

You arrive at the boardwalk an hour early. You don’t immediately go to the tidepool, instead choosing to take a long walk on the beach, taking a moment to calm your racing heart and collect your thoughts.

You like Cruz. You like him as much as two people who just met can, despite a less-than-romantic first impression. But does he like you?

You never thought you would have to ask your soulmate that.

There’s a small thwap as you slap your cheeks, heat simmering your skin even as the cold water laps at your feet.

This is ridiculous. You’ve talked twice. Caitlyn and Sam have a thriving relationship (You should know, you share a wall with Caitlyn) and even they got off to a rocky start.

The pit grows in your stomach, thinking of Cruz’s disinterested stare as he swims into the open ocean. The weight of it almost sinks to your toes.

You shake your head, slapping your cheeks once more.

Today is a new day. Just go through the motions _____.

You reach the tidepool, setting down your picnic blanket and bag. You grab one of your notebooks and prop it open as you bite into an apple. You’re 30 minutes early, might as well get some reading done.

The waves crash and pull against the rocks, pleasant studying ambience, but is interrupted by several clicks and abrupt, out of rhythm, splashes. You look up, immediately in awe of the sight.

About 50 feet away from the entrance to the tidepool is a pod of dolphins, breaching out of the water. You grab a pencil, your phone, and your notebook, tiptoeing through the tidepool to get a better look.

Good choice wearing water shoes today.

From closer up, you notice the distinct lack of dorsal fins and realize they must be Northern White Whale Dolphins. 60 of them have congregated in a group, most likely scouting for easy food or taking a rest.

Their pod is pretty small though. What are they doing so close to the shore?

The pod continues to play as you take shaky photos with your camera, trying to balance your notebook and pencil in the crook of your elbow. Through your viewfinder, you spot a familiar shape, not 30 feet from the pod, peeking his head out of the water. Cruz’s black eyes narrow into focus before he fully submerges. Your eyes widen as you lower your camera.

The water above Cruz rushes as he swims closer and closer to the pod. You tuck your phone back into your pocket as you finagle your way up to a nearby rock. You need a better view, and it might be best to be out of the water while this happens.

The dolphins haven’t noticed Cruz yet, still gliding along the waves. There's a quick flash of his strong back before he dives even deeper into the water. The rock slightly digs into your stomach as you lean over to get a better look.

What I wouldn’t give for a drone right now.

Before long, there is a burst of clicks, the largest dolphins quickly surrounding the group and issuing them away. They’ve spotted Cruz, but one is a little too slow.

Cruz’s dorsal fin cuts through the water, close enough to the surface that you can make out the details of his determined face. His eyes have latched onto the slowest dolphin and his speed increases exponentially. His long tail flicks back and forth as he gains on it.

*******

The dolphin flips into the air, trying to gain distance. But like a flash Cruz’s large hand shoots out of the water, getting a hold of the dolphin’s tail, and pulls. You see his shoulder and tricep bulge as the dolphin thrashes in his grip. His head once again breaches the water as he digs his other clawed hand into the dolphin’s side, raking into it as he pulls the dolphin closer to him. The two tussle and wrestle against each other, going in and out of the water as the dolphin tries to push Cruz away.

But Cruz is limber, keeping a tight grip on the dolphin as he maneuvers his body alongside it. His torso raises up as he pushes the dolphin down under the water and into submission. Cruz then yanks the dolphin’s front upwards and out of the water, grip still tight on it’s rear, before opening up his maw and tearing into the dolphin’s neck. He rips his head back and forth until the dolphin stills, a large pool of red slowly cascading around them.

*******

Your pencil hangs loosely in your fingers as you watch, eyes locked on Cruz. You think the struggle must’ve lasted only 20 seconds, but in the moment, it felt like hours. Cruz’s chest heaves as he takes another bite, serrated teeth easily ripping the flesh, as casual as the lobster roll from your last meeting.

Blood drips from his mouth and covers his claws. His cards his fingers back through his hair, leaving crimson streaks that shine against his black locks. Cruz bites off another mouthful before heaving the dolphin onto his shoulder.

As a large science nerd, you’ve always enjoyed watching nature in progress. But a new, exciting, vaguely uncomfortable feeling stirs in your gut as you watch Cruz suck in his fingers, picking out stray bits of meat from his large, sharp teeth. A feeling like a shiver rushing down your spine and heat in between your legs.

Oh my god. Why was that the hottest thing I’ve ever seen?

Cruz turns away and submerges himself, giving you a nice shot of his defined back muscles as he sums up his hunt. You can’t take your eyes off his form moving just below the water, even as your 5 PM alarm goes off.

You knew Cruz was larger, and far stronger, than you, but seeing him in his element reminds you just how easily he could tear you apart.

God, and I kind of want him to.

As he swims further away from the shore, you see two black dots in the distance. You take out your phone again and open up the camera to zoom in.

Speaking of huge. Holy shit.

The focus is a little blurry, but it’d be hard for you to miss the massive mermaids. With only their shoulders and up out of water, they still tower over Cruz by at least a head each. Both have long black hair, intertwined with what looks to be seaweed and various types of shells. The one on the right is holding two larger masses over her shoulders, positioned the way a lumberjack would hold a fallen tree. Cruz reemerges with his dolphin in tow, frighteningly small.

Cruz’s gestures indicate they’re having a conversation, mostly one-sided. The dolphin on Cruz’s back bounces as he talks animatedly, his hunt small when compared to the two weights the right mermaid carries. With your old phone you can only catch a glimpse of the left mermaid’s lips moving. Cruz’s energy dims as she continues and he seems to sink deeper into the water.

The left mermaid holds out her hand. Cruz hesitates, then throws his dolphin into her arms. She swings it over like it weighs nothing and then shakes her hand as if to shoo him away. The right one rumbles with laughter. Cruz nods, solemn as the two submerge and swim away.

Cruz stays there for a minute, looking out at the horizon. When he finally turns, his movements are lethargic as he swims towards the tidepool.

You scramble down from the rock and quickly tiptoe  back to your blanket, fumbling to stuff your notebook and pencil back into your bag.

Cruz glides in, his eyes not meeting yours, locked in thought.

“Hey Cruz.” You wave, struggling to catch your breath from your impromptu rush.

Cruz slowly looks up at you, still slightly downcast.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” You  shake your head furiously.

“It’s no problem! I got her kind of early, and then I saw you hunting and didn’t want to bother.” Cruz’s eyes widen a bit, before her recoils into himself and sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

“Oh, sorry. You probably didn’t want to see that….” You once again shake your hands and head back and forth.

“No! No I-, I actually thought it was super cool!” Cruz quirks his eyebrows.

“What?”

“Yeah! It was like my own personal Shark week. Like wow, you looked amazing out there.”

Cruz’s cheek tint a cerulean blue, the corners of his lips turning up at the sides as he fiddles with his fingers.

“And those dolphins are the fastest kind around here, but bam! You were on them like a firecracker, kind of wish I had a slow motion camera.” You laugh, before realizing Cruz probably didn’t understand half of your analogies. “You looked uh, you were really good at it.”

Well duh, you idiot. He’s a shark.

“Thank you.” Cruz shoots you a tiny smile, blush still running across his face and down his neck. The ensuing silence is only slightly uncomfortable, as Cruz’s blush stays strong and you're sure you develop one of your own. You try and focus on something else to calm down, but catch a glimpse of his biceps, and fail miserably.

“Oh, that’s right.” Cruz reaches over and sticks his hand in between two nearby rocks. His brow furrows before his eyes light up, and he pulls out a….handbag?

It’s loosely sewn together with kelp, made of some sort of seal skin and closed with a seashell button. Cruz pops it open and begins to rummage inside.

“Gotcha.” Cruz pulls something out of the bag, before turning and hiding it behind his back.

“Uh, whatcha got there?” Cruz smiles, his blue blush painting his face from top to tip.

“I found this thing and thought you um….might want to look at it?” Cruz pulls his arm in front, revealing a reflective white shell, just a bit longer than his palm.

“It’s not a crab, but I thought it was neat looking so….”

You slowly move towards him, gesturing to ask if you can hold the shell. Cruz nods, almost shoving it into your hand.

The color is completely white, sharp, almost polished-looking. It carves into several rings before sloping into a point. It’s empty, the inside free of any sand or tiny algae.

“Do you know what it’s called?”

You look back to Cruz and nearly brush your nose against his. You realize how hot his body heat is as he leans over you to look at the shell. Your shoulders just barely touch.

As if dipped into boiling water, your face alights into red and your body convulses to jerk away from the heat.

“Yeah-Yes! Actually I do, it’s-it looks like a Kellets W-Welk. Well, the remains of one’s shell anyway.”

Cruz stays close, letting out a small “Ohhh.” as he squints his eyes to get a closer look. It’s the most on-land you’ve seen him, with the water lapping at the base of his tail. Sitting down, your head only comes to his clavicle. The uncomfortable burning stirs in your gut.

“Is it a hermit crab?”

“Not, it’s a sea snail. They're not really on land like crabs.” You brush your thumbs over the shell’s ridges. “There are quite a few varieties of sea snails around here, lots of beautiful shells. Their babies look pretty cool too.”

Cruz nods, eyes intent, and it reminds you of the elementary kids you saw when working at the aquarium. Your heart skips as you futilely try to fight the smile on your face.

“Can you eat ‘em?”

You chuckle and Cruz’s face grows a darker shade of blue. “Yeah, you can. You’ve got a good eye for snacks huh?”

Cruz pouts playfully, blue still awash on his cheeks. “Maybe, but I’m not always thinking about food.” Just as he finishes, you hear his stomach rumble. You stifle your laugh with your hand and Cruz grabs his stomach angrily. “Sh-Shut up! It’s almost dinner!”

The two mermaids flash in your mind. You see Cruz handing over the dolphin as they swim away. Then you see Cruz, furiously cracking open crabs with a single-minded purpose. The smile drops from your chin.

How often does that happen?

Cruz was small for a Great White. You hadn’t even thought about why. You don’t even know if you want to.

“They’re pretty tasty, but their shells are a lot more fun.” Cruz furrows his brow again. “Here, let me show you.” You scoot yourself closer to him, putting the white shell against his ear. His eyes widen and he leans backwards a bit from your closeness, but the shell still lingers by his ear. “Do you hear it?”

Cruz stills, furrowing his brows even deeper, but then they rise in surprise. He leans back towards you, tentatively grabbing your wrist and pulling the shell closer.

“Its-”

“The ocean.”

The same childlike wonder from before flushes on his face as he looks at you, bringing your stomach a flutter. Cruz presses his head down closer to the shell, the bottom of his cheek now touching your palm. Cruz’s skin is cool against yours, slightly damp, and you feel the hint of roughness as his chin brushes against your wrist.

“How-How did you-”

“My mom showed me once. I mean, technically it’s the echo of the blood coursing through your ear, which reverberates and sounds like waves crashing. But it’s still a neat trick.”

“Oh, I see….”

From this close, you can see the small freckles which dapple Cruz’s cheeks, peppering across the bridge of his nose and up onto his forehead. Specks of dark blue, black, and green contrasts against his light gray skin, like the setting sun catching the pulling tides.

In the moment, you long to touch them.

So you do.

It’s so….soft.

As your thumb brushes up his jaw, the mottled colors are overwhelmed and overshadowed by Cruz’s furious blush. Cruz moves away so quickly that he unfurls his grip on a nearby rock and loses his balance. He braces himself and hisses as his thin skin nicks the corner of a rock.

“Oh my god, I’m so-so sorry! I just- oh my goodness are you okay?” You retract the shell closer to your chest, your other hand outstretched to steady Cruz. When he flinches away, you pull it back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have invaded your personal space like that.”

Cruz's chest heaves but he doesn’t move or say anything. From the corner of your eye you spot a tiny bit of blood leaking onto the rock.

“Oh shit, wait I-I should have something.” You whip around to your backpack, shuffling and pushing aside your notebook to find your emergency first aid kit. Water wells in the corner of your eyes as you frantically search. You desperately try to will the tears away.

Stupid, stupid, stupid stupid-

Your inner insults are interrupted when your fingers brush against the familiar plastic fabric pouch. Before turning back to Cruz, you hastily wipe your eyes.

“Here, this should help.” You hold out the small thing of gauze and an antiseptic wipe. Cruz slowly takes them, fiddling with the gauze until it's undone. He picks up the antiseptic package with the tips of his forefinger and thumb, eyes squinting as he tries to read the small text.

“That’s to clean the wound with, to get the gross stuff out.” Cruz’s eyes narrow even further, brushing his thumb over the paper wrapping. Tentatively, he plops the unwrapped wipe on his wound. He looks back, clearly confused. “You have to unwrap it first, then wipe it.” His blush returns as he jerks his eyes away from you, embarrassed with you watching.

“I could do-”

“I’ve got it.” Cruz snaps, finding the perforation and ripping it off quickly.

“Okay, but it’s gonna sting-”

“Ow, shit!” Cruz curses as he presses the wipe against the apex of his cut, whining and biting his lower lip.

“If it’s hurting that means it’s working.” Cruz nods, but he hastily wipes the wound and sighs as he crumples it up.Cruz wraps his cut with medical precision, reminding you of boxers right before a match. He cuts the gauze short with a snip of his teeth

“Wow, you're really good at that.” Cruz snorts.

“I don’t need any jackasses going into a frenzy anytime soon. That would be the perfect end to this shit day.”

Your heart freezes as your stomach drops, and you recoil into yourself. The nausea of guilt washes over you. And then that makes you feel even worse, and so the cycle continues.

Cruz notices your sheepish, downtrodden stare, and frantically waves his good hand.

“Wait, shit, no, thats-thats not what I meant. Uh…” He loses track of his sentence, mouth agape as he looks for words. “I mean….thank you.” He fiddles with his claws. “For the bandage, a-and the food a couple days ago. This is...nice.”

You’re almost embarrassed by how quickly his praise perks you up, rolling over your tense muscles like a masseuse.

“Thank you for the shell, it was very thoughtful of you.” Cruz sputters.

“I just passed by it on a swim, it wasn’t a big deal. The reefs got a ton of them, so, y’know.”

You don’t know, but it’s cute watching him fumble with his words. He’s so bashful for an apex predator you saw kill a dolphin not 20 minutes ago.

“I could even-well, it’s close that we- we could go sometime? You and me?” Cruz fiddles with his claws once more, and you wonder if it’s a nervous compulsion. “It’s a little ways away from the coast but with me carrying you, we could probably see a lot.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.” Cruz’s nervous smile is much more lopsided than his regular one. It accentuates the dimple on his left cheek.

“I would love that.”

-----------

You decide to meet up early on Saturday to get a head start on the sunlight. You leave the boardwalk giddy, your nerves tingling pleasantly with pre-plan jitters. All this energy means you might have to spill to Caitlyn once more, just to let it all out. You’ll most likely tell her you two are getting breakfast by the beach, maybe stop by an aquarium.

Looking at all the coral and the crustaceans. Just me, in Cruz’s arms-

You stop, your nerves bubbling up under your skin, like steam is blowing out of your ears as you think about what is in store for Saturday.

You’re still not sure how Cruz feels about you. But there isn’t a show of a doubt now; You have a crush on him.

----------

Cruz sits in the water, cracking open a leftover oyster he had left in his bag for emergencies. Emergencies like being so flustered he can't possibly go back to the pod, not without looking incredibly suspicious.

He brushes his thumb over his cheek, and it’s almost like you're there again.

So….soft.

[morningfears]

Drag Me Down

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18!

Summary: You and hockey player!Calum have an interesting relationship. Is it flirting? Is it harmless fun? Regardless of what it is, it landed you an ice skating lesson that ends in so much more than a new skill. (Featuring prompts [yes, I’m still writing those] 1 and 3 for @thesubtweeter​ | Semi-public sex? (I mean, the rink is empty but in an ice rink)

Word Count: 6k

As unusual as it was, even for a Saturday morning, the campus ice rink was empty. It sat devoid of life and silent, save for the sound of your shoes hitting the concrete floor, and you clutched your jacket a little tighter to your body as you felt a chill rush over you. Though you’d only been in the building a handful of times, and only ever on game days, it was cooler than you’d ever felt - something you attributed to the lack of occupants milling about the vast space - and you almost regretted the outfit you’d chosen for your meeting (you weren’t sure that you could call it a date, though you desperately wanted it to be one) with Calum.

You felt slightly self-conscious, dressed in a black skater skirt with a white t-shirt tucked in and a jean jacket a friend had painted for you thrown over top, and wished you’d gone for something more practical - like jeans, maybe a nice sweater - but when you spotted Calum leaning against the railing at the top of the stairs, you didn’t have much time to agonize over your decision. He was dressed comfortably, in a pair of black jeans and the green Empathy hoodie you longed to steal from him, and watched as you crossed the empty space to meet him. It was then, the look he gave you - a slight raise of his eyebrows, a quick swipe of his tongue over his lips, a ghost of a smirk - that made you decide that, no, you didn’t regret your choice at all.

You wouldn’t admit it, not out loud, but if it got Calum to look at you like that, you would gladly put up with any amount of frozen limbs. 

You felt a slight charge in the air as you approached him. It was an ever present tension, always there whenever you were around Calum, and it was almost too much for you to handle. The air felt thick with electricity, an underlying current that made your heart begin to beat just a bit faster and the butterflies begin to swirl in the pit of your stomach as goosebumps pricked at your skin. It was instantaneous, the only response to his gaze you seemed to be capable of, and you were both aware of it.

Your head felt muddled with too many thoughts, all of them about Calum, and time seemed to slow as you closed the remaining gap between the two of you. You finally stood close enough to smell his cologne, a scent so heavily associated with Calum that you’d never again be able to smell it without thinking of him, and lost yourself in your proximity.

You hated the effect that he had on you, that he was able to turn you into a lovesick fool with one glance in your direction, because you honestly had no idea where you stood with him. Some days you imagined he liked you as much as you liked him, that he caught a whiff of your perfume and felt his heart pound in his chest and his cheeks heat with a bright pink flush. Others, you wondered if he was just enjoying toying with you because there was no way he could be as interested in you as you were in him.

On those days, the days where your thoughts ran in an unpleasant direction, you reminded yourself that Calum wasn’t like that. Though he was one of your university’s most well-loved hockey players, one of the team’s stars since his freshman season, and a well-loved figure on campus, he was genuinely a good guy. He had a big heart, bursting with love, and would never string you along. 

Not when you made it so fucking obvious just how head over heels you were for him.

Although Calum was friends with almost everyone, and at least respected by those he wasn’t friends with, you never imagined that you’d find yourself counted amongst them. You ran in completely different circles, lived completely different lives, but the universe had thrown you together in Chemistry 101 and, well, who were you to question the universe?

You were almost ashamed to admit it but when you first met, on the first day of your chemistry lab, you expected Calum to leave all of the work to you. Although you found him attractive - your friends joked that they’d never seen you stare at anything that wasn’t a textbook that long - you assumed he’d be like everyone else, quickly realizing that you were a stickler for good grades and taking advantage of that. You assumed he’d be another asshole, ashamed to be seen even looking in your direction, however, you were sorely mistaken.

Calum was smart, brilliant, even, and driven. He worked just as hard as you did on lab reports and put in an equal amount of effort every time the pair of you put your heads together to figure out a new set of problems. You divided the out of class activities evenly and met an hour before lab to finishing compiling the work into one cohesive document. He took his studies seriously, just as you did, and you felt guilty for assuming the worst.

What made you feel even worse, though, was that you’d assumed the worst of him as a person, too.

You’d been paired with athletes before, football and basketball and baseball and soccer players, that were all incredibly difficult to deal with. They never spoke to you unless it was to ask for the answers to the online quizzes and you felt certain that Calum was going to be the same. But, to your surprise, he was incredibly easy to get along with.

He was quiet for the first few classes, observing you as you worked and only really commenting on the lab work, but when he figured you out - you later realized that that was what he’d been doing, deciphering you as if you were some sort of puzzle - he threw you for a loop.

Your relationship began with teasing remarks, little jabs here and there about how cute it was to hear the good girl swear when you made a mistake or how much he liked flustering you whenever he sat a little closer than normal, and pet names. You wondered, briefly, if those were just because he’d forgotten your name but that thought was erased when he wrote it at the top of a lab report before tossing it into the pile on the professor’s desk.

He’d been doing it for months and though you couldn’t exactly say you’d gotten used to it - hearing him call you ‘pretty girl’ or tease you for saying ‘fuck’ wasn’t exactly the kind of thing you got used to -, you’d come to expect it. His words still made your heart race and your face heat, especially as he seemed to grow bolder and bolder with each week that passed, but you knew that you’d miss whatever the pair of you had the moment it was gone.

You wanted to believe that he was genuinely flirting with you, that the compliments and pet names meant something, and that he had a genuine interest in you but your insecurities sometimes got the better of you and you wondered if he just enjoyed watching you trip over your own tongue whenever he got particularly bold. He could’ve had anyone, anyone at all, so why would he choose you?

But, as you attempted to ground yourself in the present, you realized that you couldn’t bring yourself to ask that question and risk putting an end to him doting on you. So, whatever it was that linked the pair of you, you resigned yourself to simply settling in for the ride and letting whatever was going to happen, happen.

And spending the day alone with Calum was what was happening.

You liked to believe that ending up in an empty ice rink with Calum was the universe, once again, meddling in your life. You hadn’t planned this, you’d intended to spend your day off on your couch with a bowl of popcorn and a bad movie, but those plans had gone up in smoke (not that you really minded) when you mentioned wanting to learn to ice skate as you and Calum waited for your professor to hand out the week’s lab assignment.

He’d spotted the bruises on your knees from a fall you’d taken at the roller rink, a collision with an overly ambitious teenager, and spent a solid few minutes teasing you - “You sure that’s what happened? Hm. If you say so, pretty girl.” - before accepting your explanation. As your cheeks burned from the insinuation (and the few fantasies that managed to nestle into the darkest gutters of your mind), he’d asked, “Do you just roller skate or can you ice skate?”

When you lamented your inability to ice skate, or inline skate, and expressed a desire to learn, Calum wore the brightest smile you’d ever seen. It was beautiful, truly happy and almost giddy with excitement, and you committed it to memory without even noticing. “Meet me at the rink on Saturday,” he instructed, “I’ll teach you.”

You were rendered speechless, surprised that he wanted to spend time with you out of class, and didn’t register that it wasn’t a question (though you both knew your answer would’ve been yes if it was). You nodded dumbly, too awed to dwell on the fear you held for ice skating, as you watched him take the assignment sheet from your professor. “I’ve got a friend who has some skates you can borrow.” He paused then, his eyes narrowing and his lips curling into a smirk, before he added, “This’ll give you an excuse to hold my hand.”

Though he said it jokingly, you both knew that his words held nothing but truth; you would’ve jumped at the opportunity to touch him - or have him touch you - and here he was, handing it to you without a second thought.

The moment you left lab that day, you were a mess of emotions. You were ecstatic, thrilled to be seeing Calum outside of class, and surprised that he wanted to see more of you. But, beneath your excitement, you were petrified. You always had an out, a solid limit to the amount of time you spent together, and you were worried that with no clock ticking away the minutes, you would do or say something that broke whatever spell Calum had to be under. You were nervous, unsure of what you could talk about and what he was expecting of you. You were also nervous about being on the ice.

You knew that you were going to spend your morning falling on your ass, in front of the man who occupied most of your thoughts, as your balance was shaky even as you stood on solid ground. And this was the first time Calum would be seeing you outside of class and the occasional game. He was used to seeing you dressed down, casual and comfortable for a long day of classes or after work, so you wanted to make a good impression.

The knee high socks you usually reserved for street skating and the heeled boots that you’d only worn a handful of times weren’t exactly practical but practicality was not on the agenda for the day.

The silence between you only lasted for a moment but as your thoughts moved at the speed of light, it seemed to drag on forever. Calum took his time drinking in the sight of you, his eyes lingering on the exposed expanse of thigh, and you tried not to let him see how nervous you really were as you sank your teeth into your bottom lip and waited for him to speak.

“You didn’t have to get so dressed up for me.” His voice held the teasing lilt you loved to hear, an amused tone that told you he took joy in the way your cheeks heated and your eyes dropped from his chest to the floor. “But you look cute, pretty girl. I like the socks.” Your flush deepened as you snuck a look at him from beneath your lashes and caught sight of the smirk that looked like it belonged on his face. After a beat of silence, of waiting for you to retort with something witty - a feat that you had yet to manage, though you desperately wanted to throw him off his game at least once -, he reached into his bag and handed you a pair of skates. “Here. These should fit you.”

He watched, his eyes shining in the bright rink lights, as you studied the pair of strawberry red ice skates - Moxi skates, the same as your roller skates - in your hands. When you grinned, he breathed a quiet laugh before turning and gesturing for you to follow him down the stairs. You trailed behind him, your eyes on his back as he headed for the bench, and only sat beside him when he patted the wood to his left.

He dropped his bag to the floor and pulled out his own skates, the hockey skates he wore with a sturdier boot and blade than the ones you were borrowing, before making quick work of lacing them up. Lacing your skates was the only ability you felt confident in so you worked alongside him, your fingers yanking the beige laces tight around your ankles, and failed to notice his gaze on you as you secured them.

“You could’ve had me on my knees.” When you shot him a bewildered look, your eyes wide and lips parted in confusion, Calum grinned and gestured to your skates. “I was going to be chivalrous and lace up your skates for you but it looks like you don’t need me,” he teased, a laugh leaving his lips as he watched you return to the task at hand and tie your laces in a bow. “But that’s alright. I can still dream of getting you on your knees.”

You bit your lip, cheeks burning as you chose to ignore Calum’s teasing words, and shook your head to clear it as you pressed your feet into the floor to test the fit of your skates. “Lacing skates is the easy part,” you answered with a shrug. “It’s, well, everything else that I’m worried about.”

As he always seemed to do, Calum continued on like nothing out of the ordinary had been said and nodded as he stood from the bench. “I would lie and tell you that I won’t let you fall but you’ve been known to call me on my bullshit, so, I’ll try my best not to let you fall. How’s that?” He offered you his hand, a laugh leaving his lips as you wobbled upon standing, and you did your best to hide the pout you knew was coming.

“Doesn’t really make me hopeful that I won’t be leaving with a sprain of some sort or maybe a sliced off finger,” you mumbled, hands still clasped in his as you tried to find your footing on the mat by the bench, “but I appreciate the honesty. Alright, let’s do this. The faster I fall, the less afraid I’ll be. I think.”

“Oh, well, in that case,” Calum began, his hands loosening their grip on yours as he took a half step back, “I could just let you go on your own, then. You could get a few falls in while I take a few laps and warm up.” He offered a nonchalant shrug, sparing a quick glance out at the ice, but you could tell that he was joking by the look in his eyes when he met your gaze once more and how his grip on your hands loosened but didn’t let go completely.

“Absolutely not.” You tried to sound stern, firm in your insistence that he remain by your side, but the words came out in a laugh as you tightened your hold on him. “If I go down,” you began as you lingered near the entrance to the ice, “I’m taking you with me.”

Calum laughed at your comment and shook his head as he watched you stare out at the ice with a concentrated frown on your lips. That was still fairly new, you were still finding your footing when it came to teasing him back, but it was welcome. He enjoyed it almost - but not quite - as much as making you blush.

He’d asked, as soon as the comments and little jabs started to veer into flirtier territory, if they made you uncomfortable. You’d assured him that they didn’t. When he asked for your permission to keep the comments coming, to keep flirting and teasing, you gave it to him enthusiastically.

You wouldn’t admit it, not out loud and not to Calum, but you loved the feeling his teasing brought you. You loved the burn you felt in your cheeks and the butterflies you felt in the pit of your stomach. You loved the way his shoulders lifted and he smirked after making you look away or lose your train of thought. You loved being left speechless, unable to do anything but giggle or bite your lip, and you knew that Calum loved it, too.

It was the best part of your week, and his, and you were both content with it being nothing more than a bit of fun - for the time being, anyway.

“If you wanted me on top of you, all you had to do was ask. Would’ve been much easier than all of this,” he said, gesturing out at the ice as he sent a teasing wink in your direction. He bit back his laughter as your gaze dropped to your feet and stepped out onto the ice, your hand still firmly in his grasp.

“Who says you’ll wind up on top?” It was said beneath your breath, a huff of words that you didn’t even have time to think about until they were already out of your mouth, but Calum heard you loud and clear. He raised his eyebrows, surprised by your retort, and laughed as he watched your eyes widen and your mouth drop open. “I… that’s not what I, I didn’t mean - fuck.”

“You didn’t mean fuck? Sure sounds like you did.” He knew what you meant, the smirk on his lips told you as much, but he was clearly enjoying watching you attempt to clarify your words. When you opened your mouth once again, only to find yourself unable to speak, he shook his head. “Relax, pretty girl.” His voice was soft, soothing but with an underlying hint of amusement, as he gestured for you to step out onto the ice. “I’m just messing with you. Come on, out on the ice. Don’t go stiff. Try to relax and don’t watch your feet.”

You tried to push the burning embarrassment you felt out of your mind as he pulled you out onto the ice, your hands intertwined as he skated backwards. He remained quiet, his eyes trained on you as you furrowed your brows in concentration and desperately tried to remind yourself not to stare at your feet. You tried to watch him, instead, and tried to copy his footwork but he made it look so effortless.

You struggled to stay standing and you were certain that you were holding Calum’s hands tight enough to cut off the circulation but he didn’t seem to mind. “Keep your knees bent and try to put your weight on the balls of your feet,” he instructed as he watched you attempt to shuffle your feet.

Calum bit back the teasing comments he wanted to make as he watched you attempt to keep your balance. You looked so focused and desperate to get it right that he didn’t want to shake the little bit of confidence you were managing to build. Instead, he said, “You missed the game last night.”

You nodded, slightly distracted as you tried not to lose your balance, and offered an apology. “I was planning on coming but I had to fill in for a coworker. Didn’t figure you’d miss me.” You shot him a smile, glancing at him from beneath your lashes, and he shook his head fondly.

“Can’t help it when the loudest supporter in the building isn’t here,” he teased. You felt your cheeks heat and you dipped your head to return your gaze to the ice as you allowed him to continue pulling you along. 

It was no secret that you got into the games. It was almost expected that you and your roommate would be the loudest fans in attendance, ready to yell at any player or official or fan who stepped out of line, and he was right. It would be hard not to miss the pair of you. 

“I just get passionate, okay?” You huffed a sigh, pretending to be annoyed by his teasing, but you’d heard from a mutual friend that he loved the support - and hearing you curse when someone hit him a little too hard - so you kept it up. “And, I mean, I need to get my aggression out somewhere.”

“Aggression?” Calum raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing that you were capable of any real aggression - your rants were never truly aggressive, never really angry, and always adorable to him, anyway -, and laughed as he nodded. “Sure. You’re aggressive and I’m the Queen.”

“Nice to meet you, Your Majesty.” Your words dripped with sarcasm but Calum’s face remained impassive as he watched your lips curl into a pout. “No one around here appreciates my sense of humor,” you grumbled, more for the sake of saying something than to actually complain.

“Your sense of humor is comprised of the worst puns known to man, jokes that only you understand, and sarcasm that you explain so you don’t hurt any feelings.” You gaped at him, feigning offense though you knew his description was accurate, and tugged your hands away from his grip.

“Wow. Okay, well, I think that’s my cue to try and skate without you holding my hand, thank you very much.” It was a struggle to keep a straight face, especially when he smirked as you started shaking the moment you let go of his hands, but you tried your hardest as you focused on the ice beneath your feet.

“Have it your way,” he hummed as he skated just far enough away from you to be out of your reach. “This’ll be a good time to teach you how to stand back up.” 

“Are my puns really that bad?” You hadn’t moved more than a few inches as you wobbled on your skates. Calum remained close to you, always out of reach but close enough to move in if you really needed him, and laughed at your question.

“Yes. They’re shit. But they’re cute coming from you.” It was high praise coming from him - he gave compliments but they were often shrouded in teasing jabs - so you took it for what it was and grinned at him. However, before you could thank him - and maybe tease him for liking your awful puns - you felt yourself beginning to fall.

“Don’t flail,” he reminded you as he moved closer to reach out and grab your hand and stabilize you. “You’ll break-“ Before he could finish his sentence, your panic took you both down.

True to his prediction, Calum ended up on top of you. He reached out to keep the full impact of his weight off of you and you both groaned as your back - and bare legs - hit the ice while his hands hit beside your head. You were both quiet for a moment, taking in the shock of the impact, before he laughed. “Don’t land on your hands,” he instructed you. “You could break something.”

You barely heard the words that left his lips. You were more focused on the fact that his lips were inches away from your own. He was checking to make sure you hadn’t hit your head, his hand freezing as he grabbed your chin and lifted your head to look him in the eye, but nothing - not even a potential concussion - mattered when you could feel his weight on you.

“You could at least pretend that you’re not enjoying this.” It was a joke, the words laced with the teasing lilt you would never be able to disassociate with Calum, and it was said as he shifted a little closer to you. You held your breath and let your eyes slip shut, waiting for him to lean in and press his lips to yours, but after a moment of silence, you had yet to feel anything.

When you opened your eyes, you were met with sight of Calum smirking at you. “We should get up. Don’t want you to freeze.” It took everything you had not to scream in frustration as he pushed himself to his feet and steadied himself before reaching out to help you up.

Calum didn’t hesitate to laugh at the pout on your lips when you finally managed to get back on your feet. You weren’t happy with him, clearly, but he loved seeing you squirm as you shied away from his gaze. He wanted to leave you in suspense, to make you wait until the very end of the lesson, but you’d suffered enough. He knew that your legs were going to be bruised - just as your ego already was - so he gave in. “Come here, pretty girl,” he laughed, using his hold on your hand to pull you a little closer to him.

You kept your hopes to a minimum, half-convinced he was teasing you yet again, but to your pleasant surprise, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. It was a quick kiss, a barely there press of his lips against yours, but it was enough to send your heart rate skyrocketing and set your blood on fire. Your skin burned where his fingers touched and you found yourself warm for the first time since you stepped foot into the rink.

All too soon, the kiss was over. Calum pulled away from you and grinned at the way you blinked away the stars you’d seen. He gave you a moment to compose yourself before he released his hold on your hands and began skating away.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Your voice had a whining tinge to it, more desperate for his touch than you would like to admit, and you couldn’t seem to stop the words that were spilling past your lips. “We were in the middle of something!”

“You catch me, you get another kiss. You came for a skating lesson, didn’t you?” 

You both knew that you wouldn’t have said yes solely for the ice skating lesson and you both knew that you wouldn’t have worn the outfit you did without reason but it wouldn’t be Calum if he gave you what you wanted without getting something in return. So, you nodded.

Your pout slowly faded as you attempted to follow Calum around the rink. He never strayed too far from you, just far enough that you couldn’t reach out and touch him, and made conversation as you grew more confident on your skates. The pair of you talked about school and music, about movies and plans for your holidays. You asked about his friends and him about yours. It was casual, the easiest conversation you’d had in years, and you didn’t want it to end.

However, you finally saw an opening and decided that you’d rather return to the conversation later than miss your opportunity to kiss Calum again.

He’d been consistent in his speed, moving slow enough to remain near you but fast enough to put distance between you, but found himself slowing as he got lost in the conversation. It took you longer than you would’ve liked to notice how close he was but when you finally did, you grinned and moved in to grab his hand.

“I caught you!”

Calum glanced down at your hand in his and smirked, shaking his head when he realized that you had, in fact, caught him. “Well, I’m a man of my word.”

Just as he had done earlier, Calum brought his hand to cup your cheek and leaned in to press his lips to yours. This time, you were prepared. You pressed closer to him, desperately wishing you could feel his body heat, and lost yourself in his embrace. As your hands moved to tangle in his hair, his hands moved to grip your hips. He pulled you closer to him, pressing you tight against his body, and deepened the kiss.

You would’ve been content to remain there forever, desperate for a breath of fresh air but unwilling to take it as that would mean parting from Calum, but he knew that would be a disaster waiting to happen. It was hard enough to keep you both balanced, he didn’t think he could manage with even more of a distraction. So, he pulled away from the kiss and grabbed your hand.

Calum pulled you across the ice without a word, his hand warm in your own. You wanted to ask what he was doing but found yourself unable to speak. You felt tongue tied and fuzzy headed so you relinquished your control to him. When you made it back to the bench, Calum took a seat and pulled you down onto his lap. He immediately returned his lips to yours as his hands slipped beneath your jacket.

You sat there for what felt like a lifetime, your hands tangled in his hair as his moved from your waist to brush the tops of your thighs just beneath your skirt. You were content to remain there, just kissing him, but Calum had other plans.

Calum lifted you from his lap and gestured toward your skates. It took a moment for you to realize what he meant but when you saw him untying his own, you followed his lead. You made quick work of unlacing your skates and returning to cover to the blades before passing them to Calum. He shoved them into his bag, alongside his own, before he stood from the bench and slung it over his shoulder. He reached out a hand to you and guided you through the rink to the locker room.

It wasn’t ideal, and definitely not what you imagined your first time sleeping with Calum would be like, but you didn’t really have it in you to care as he dropped his bag onto the ground and crowded you against a set of lockers.

You didn’t care if you were technically in a public space where anyone could interrupt. You didn’t care that your body ached from your fall earlier. You didn’t care that the metal of the lockers dug into your skin.

The only thing that mattered was the feeling of Calum’s lips on yours, his hands on your skin, his body pressed against yours. You couldn’t focus on anything in particular, not when the feeling of Calum was so overwhelming, so you stopped trying to make sense of anything that was happening and just let yourself enjoy it.

You tugged at his curls as his hands dipped a little higher beneath your skirt. “This okay?” he asked, his voice muffled against the column of your throat. When you breathed your consent, he hummed against your skin and let his fingers explore the expanse of your inner thighs before his thumb brushed your slit over your panties.

“‘M glad you wore a skirt,” he confided, his voice quiet as he pulled away just enough to get a look at your face. “Makes this easier.”

“Glad I didn’t wear shorts under it,” you agreed, voice breathy and high as you gripped Calum’s biceps when his fingers nudged your panties to the side.

Calum didn’t bother to retort as he teasingly dragged his fingers along your slit. You took the time to return his kisses, pressing your lips to his neck and nipping at his warm skin. You felt like this was a dream and hoped desperately that you wouldn’t wake up anytime soon.

Calum took his time teasing you, brushing his thumb over your clit and rubbing barely there circles before moving away. You weren’t surprised, it was just like him to tease you even as you were willingly giving him whatever he wanted, but you were frustrated as you begged him for something more.

He pressed his lips to yours to silence your begging - and the moan that he knew was inevitable - before he slipped a finger into your heat. He took his time, far longer than he should have given your location, working you open. You were grateful for his kiss as it kept you from making far too much noise as he worked his way to two fingers and began circling your clit with his thumb.

“Are you sure you want this?” He wanted to be sure, certain that you really wanted him, because no amount of flirting and teasing equaled consent.

“Yes, Cal. Please.” Your words came out as a whine, your lips parted as your hands desperately clung to his biceps. He nodded, glad that you were so enthusiastic, before he unbuttoned his jeans and pulled away to grab a condom from his bag.

It only took a moment for him to slip inside you. Once he bottomed out, he stilled for a long moment to allow you both time to adjust. When you started shifting, desperate to feel him, he began to move. It felt like hours passed, feeling Calum fill you in the best way, but you had no way of telling how much time passed as you felt yourself barreling closer and closer to your end. With his thumb on your clit and his lips on your neck, you found yourself unable to do anything but breathe his name.

Your orgasm hit you harder than any other ever had. You imagined it was the build up, the months of verbal foreplay that made the reality that much sweeter, and swore you saw stars as you cried his name. He followed after, his hips stilling against yours as he rode out his own pleasure, and he remained still against you as you both worked to catch your breath.

“That’s definitely not how I expected to spend my Saturday,” you informed him, your voice breathless as he pulled away from you and helped you steady yourself on legs that felt like jelly.

“If telling yourself that helps you sleep at night…” Calum tossed you a wink, his cheeks flushed from the exertion and his hair slightly damp with sweat. “But I don’t hear any complaints.”

“Shut up,” you huffed, biting back laughter as you adjusted your clothes. “No complaints, other than how sore I’m going to be tomorrow. Don’t know if you know this, but ice is really fucking hard and leaves a bruise when you fall on it.”

“Seriously? I had no idea. Come on,” Calum nodded toward the exit, his arm moving to wrap around your shoulders as his other held his bag. “There’s a diner near here.”

“Isn’t this a little backward? Sex and then a date?”

“Who said anything about a date?”

When you fixed him with a look, your eyes conveying the panic you felt in that moment, Calum grinned. “We’re not doing anything out of order. What do you call the skating lesson? Give me a little credit, pretty girl.”

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack, Cal,” you huffed, your arms folding over your chest as you let him lead you out of the building.

“Get out of your head and live in the moment. Be aggressive.”

You huffed again, your cheeks heating with embarrassment as you reached out to playfully whack his stomach. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“You have no idea, pretty girl.”

____________________________________________________

Author’s Note: .....this got way long. Anyway. I had an idea and ran with it. I really want to go ice skating, my dudes. And hockey!Cal just....does something to me. Also the inspo for this. Oof. I’m sorry.

Tag List (like this post or message me if you want to be added!) : @toolazymyguy , @irwinkitten , @jamieebabiee , @glittersluke , @spicycal , @lusbaby , @everyscarisahealingplace, @brokenvirtualheartcollector , @if-it-rains-it-pours, @blisshemmings , @calumscalm , @lovemenowseemenever , @ijustreallylovezebras , @rhiannonmichelle, @p0laroidpictures , @tomscuddles , @loverofmineluke , @harrytreatspeoplewithkindnesss , @blueviiolence , @loveroflrh , @empathycth , @luckyduckydoo , @tobefalling , @bandsandbooksaremykink , @watch-how-she-burns , @megz1985, @wokeupinaustralia , @lucidlrh , @canterburyfiction , @cal-is-not-on-branding , @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o , @jaacknaano , @findingliam-o , @mindkaleidoscope​ , @idk-who-i-am-anymore1 , @sammyrenae68 , @flowerthug , @calumsphile , @caitdaniels, @drummerboy794 , @writingfortoomanyfandoms , @x-lover-of-mine-x , @miliefayy , @sunaaii , @canterburyfiction , @sebrox40 , @nati-nn , @opheliaaurora23 , @bitterbethany , @sunnysidesblog​ , @333-xx​ , @thesubtweeter​

[raph-and-spike]

Jealous (Part 1) - Leo x fem!reader

request? yes/no

“You have no idea how happy i am to find a 2k12 blog! These boys deserve much more love. If it is ok, can I have reader who has a huge crush on Leo and feels jealous everytime he interacts with Karai because she can see the way he look at her? I always wondered how having a crush on blue boy would work out since he seems so much into Karai.”

a/n: Y’all really have a thing for the leader in blue, huh? ;) I got suuuuper carried away with this, sorry it’s so long!

warnings: Angst :/ 

Steam had been practically coming out of your ears. 

You, Donnie, Mikey, and Raph were walking into Shredder’s chemical lab building, you slightly more angry than the other three (maybe besides Raph, of course).

It started when Karai had taken over Shredder’s lair with her new witchy sidekick, making it their mission to take down the man that had lied to the kunoichi her entire life. She had been betrayed and manipulated for years, and the man covered in blades was going to pay. 

You watched Leo’s eyes fill with hope as the teenager had explained her mission, hoping that she would join him and his brothers as a team. But alas, Karai wanted not only revenge, but chaos while she did so. Splinter knew this wouldn’t be a good idea, he had practically begged his daughter not to go through with it, but she brushed her true father off; she was going to end Shredder no matter what she had to do. 

As you crossed your arms, watching as she exited the lair, you furrowed your eyebrows, watching the blue-masked leader follow her with his eyes. You couldn’t help the scoff that escaped your lips. 

“I’m going home,” you growled. “I need some sleep.”

Mikey frowned. “Hey! I thought we were going to watch Chris Bradford together!”

You looked at him sadly. “Maybe tomorrow, Mikey. I’m sorry.”

You had to go home, and once you made it to your bedroom, you were screaming into your pillow. Why did Karai have to pour all of her problems onto the team? Why couldn’t she just be the daughter that Splinter had been missing all along? Why did Leo care so much about her?

These were all questions that made you sick to your stomach, causing you to toss and turn the entire night. You went to school the next day, exhausted, and you could barely concentrate in any of your classes. After your last class, you nearly bolted out of the school; you needed a distraction. Walking to the familiar alleyway manhole, you climbed in, following the path your legs had remembered by now until the lair came into view.

“Turtles!” you called, tossing your backpack to the couch. “Someone spar with me, now.”

Mikey turned his head, wide-eyed at your demanding voice. “I think Leo’s in the dojo already.”

You nodded, walking into the dojo to see Leo stretching. 

“Hey,” you greeted, “wanna spar?”

He shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

You grabbed your weaponry whilst he got his katanas ready. 

“You sure you don't want to use the cardboard weapons instead?” he asked seriously. “It might be hard to go easy on you with my actual katanas.”

You rolled your eyes. “I can handle it, honor boy,” you taunted with a grin.

He wouldn’t have ever admitted it, but he loved it when you called him that. The way you said it made it so personal; it was his nickname, no one else’s. And despite the negative connotation Raph had given it, a man of honor was exactly what he strived to be, and it made his stomach erupt in butterflies when you recognized that. 

You both circled the room, weapons at the ready. 

He cocked an eyebrow, “you sure about that, Y/n?”

You grinned. “Give me your best shot.”

And with that, you began fighting. The sounds of blades slashing against each other and defensive grunts filled the room. You used the anger you’d been feeling, the jealousy that had filled you to the brim, to assist your adrenaline high, making you fight better than ever. He noticed your kicks and punches were stronger, wondering what was going on with you.

“Y/n, you know we’re just sparring, right?” he yelled as he guarded your throws. “I’m starting to think you should have chosen Raph to train with instead!”

You rolled your eyes, yelping as he caught you off guard and pinned you to the ground. Your chest heaved up and down, out of breath as your senses came back. You blushed at his figure on top of you, rolling out of his grasp that had loosened. Still on the floor, the two of you sat, catching your breaths. You pulled your knees to your chest.

“You’re going to help her defeat Shredder, aren’t you?” you spoke up quietly.

His eyes widened, surprised at your words. He slowly nodded.

You shook your head, clenching your jaw. “How come you always abandon us when Karai suddenly needs you for something, Leo?” you argued.

He turned to you. “She won’t be able to take him down without me. She needs our help, and I’m the only one willing, you know that,” he stated.

“I don’t trust her one bit; she’s manipulated us too many times, when will you realize that your family is more important than some girl?!”

“Karai is family!” he yelled, causing you to jump at the sudden raise of his voice. 

You rested your chin on your knees, pulling them closer in attempt to comfort yourself. “Yet she’s chosen not to be apart of it,” you spoke, your voice barely a whisper. 

He frowned, standing up. “This discussion is over.”

And with that, he left you in the dojo.

*

You sat in Donnie’s lab that night, spinning around in a wheel-y chair whilst he worked on upgrades for the van. 

“I don’t get why he’s so hung up over Karai, you know? He’s practically feeding her grapes at this point,” you grumbled. 

He chuckled at your comparison. 

“He’s always been like this, if you remember when they first met,” he explained.

You chewed on your lip. “I know, but why?”

“Guys!” you heard a high-pitched yell, knowing it had to be Mikey. The two of you scurried out of the lab to see what the commotion was. 

“Leo’s not in his room! What if he was taken?!” he yelped, his hands resting on his freckled cheeks in shock.

Raph rubbed the sleep out of his eyes whilst Donnie pulled his phone out, tapping away.

“His T-Phone is unresponsive, too,” Donnie frowned.

You sighed, feeling a pit in your stomach. “I know where he is– or who he’s with, rather.”

The three of you got in the van and headed to Shredder’s chemical lab building, your fists clenched.

Mikey looked at your angered form with a questioning look.

“Everything alright, dudette?”

You sighed. “Yes, Mikey,” you gave him a forced, reassuring smile. “Leo’s just a dumbass, is all.”

“You’ve got that right,” Raph grumbled next to you.

As the four of you entered the building, weapons at the ready, you noticed the building looked trashed– and empty. 

“Aw, we missed the battle?” Mikey whined.

Donnie began peering over something, with an “uh oh”.

“We’ve gotta get out of here!” the purple-masked turtle exclaimed, pushing the three of you to the nearest exit as he followed. 

It became clear as to why he was trying to escape, once the beeping got louder. 

They bombed the place.

Suddenly, the four of you were blasted, your ears ringing from the loud noise. Your body had come in contact with something incredibly hard, the pain in your head taking over your conscious. Before you knew it, you were slipping into darkness, your mind clouded with the flames of the building. 

*

Your eyes opened, seeing Splinter and Leo towering over you. You turned your head, noticing the purple-masked turtle awakening beside you. You realized they had performed their healing mantra.

Your head was spinning, and your body ached everywhere. You scanned your body, seeing cuts and bruises scattered all over your skin. 

“I am so sorry,” Leo admitted, his invisible eyebrows knitted together with worry.

You sat up with a groan, your hand immediately going to your head. Leo put a hand on your back, worried that you’d fall backward. He assisted you as you carefully got up to stand. The others left, leaving the two of you alone in the dojo.

He couldn’t bear to look at you; you looked so fragile. It broke his heart that he had done this to not only his brother, but you as well. 

You watched him as he stared shamefully at the floor. 

“Leo,” you spoke softly, making his deep, blue eyes finally meet yours. 

“You were right, Y/n,” he confessed, his voice much quieter and softer than his usual confident and clear tone. He was embarrassed and ashamed. “I shouldn’t have went behind the team’s back to help Karai.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Donnie and I could have died if it weren’t for Splinter,” you fought, though your voice was weak.

“I know,” he admitted. “And, I’m sorry. I wish I listened to you.”

“You never listen to anyone when it comes to Karai,” you muttered, your voice barely audible.

He frowned, crossing his arms. “Why does Karai upset you so much?”

Tears began to well in your eyes and your bottom lip began to tremble. 

“You really want to know why, Leo?” your voice cracked. “I see the way you look at her, the way you push everything aside to assist her with whatever she desires; it tears me apart.”

His eyes softened and his green cheeks flushed. “I-I had no idea you felt that way, I’m sorry.”

Tears began to roll down your cheeks and you found it hard to look him in the eye. “You can’t be sorry for how you feel.”

You couldn’t handle his rejection. You left the dojo, running as fast as your sore body could take you despite the turtles calling for you in confusion. As you escaped the sewers, you put your hands on your knees, catching your breath. 

Leo stood in the dojo, alone, not sure what to do. 

[fandomsonrequests]

gummy bears and jellybeans

fandom: ATEEZ

characters: choi jongho; ATEEZ

reader: gender neutral

word count: 2.4k+

summary: Your friendship with the youngest was different though. It was more… intimate. You two told secrets no one else in the group knew and shared moments that were meant for just the both of you. It was nice, and honestly, you were scared.

a/n:  Ahhhh another songfic! This idea has been stuck in my head for a while. i’m sorry if its not so good ;^; its unedited so I apologize for any spelling errors

Based off on the songs: Waiting for You - The Aces; Teenage Blue - Dreamgirl; Prom - SZA

You scroll through the feed of your phone as you look over the various photos of your friends at the special night- specifically senior prom night.

You chuckle at your friends’ posts, seeing them pose in silly ways and “rip up the dancefloor” with their wild dancing. You were currently curled up on the lounge chair by the small pool in your backyard, the bonfire pit lit and keeping you warm in the chilly night. You tucked your legs into yourself and settle your chin onto your knees, sighing as you watch the surface of the pool water ripple in the night breeze.

There were two reasons you weren’t at prom: one- you were never really the type of person to join these kinds of social settings. You weren’t so fond of crowds. The second reason- no one asked you. It kind of bummed you out that no one really thought of you as worth their time. So to save you from any embarrassment, you decided not to go.

Besides, you didn’t go prom shopping so you had nothing to wear. You pick at the fluffy lint of the bear onesie your friend gave you. A small smile makes its way to your lips as you remember the person who gifted it to you.

Jongho and you have been friends since fourth school, ever since you moved into his town. Being friends with him meant that you were roped into his shenanigans along with his other friends. They were an energetic bunch and sometimes they drained all adrenaline from you but you’d always end up happy. Tired but happy.

Your friendship with the youngest was different though. It was more… intimate. You two told secrets no one else in the group knew and shared moments that were meant for just the both of you. It was nice, and honestly, you were scared.

You may or may not have caught feelings for the brunet. (You asked him why he dyed his hair back to brown from a bright red but he just replied with a nonchalant “because I can”). And you were afraid that it could mess up so many things between you. You didn’t want to lose what you had with him and if it meant having to be content with just his friendship- you’d take it.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when your mother called out to you. “_____,” She sang. “There’s a special guest for you~”

“Who?” You ask and sit up, turning to see no one other than your best friend. “Jongho?? What are you doing here? I thought you were at prom?”

The young man smiled one of his rare but soft smiles- one that he reserves just for you- and looked away bashfully. He looked absolutely breathtaking in his dark crisp suit, a white turtleneck under his jacket. The whole look was topped off with some dress shoes and the special pendant you got for him last Christmas. It was a metal caricature of iced coffee since the man would drink that day in and day out.

“Ahh, I was. I just wanted to check up on you, jellybean.” He replies after thanking your mother who slipped away to give you two some privacy.

He looked you over and smirked, hands in his pockets. “You actually wear that?”

You looked down at yourself and pouted, an embarrassed flush on your cheeks. “Yes? You gave it to me of course I’m gonna wear it. You’re wearing the pendant I gave you, gummy bear.”

“Touche.”

You scoot over on the lounge chair to give him some space, both your legs were extended over the side of the plastic chair. A comfortable silence washes over the two of you and you lean your head against his shoulder. Jongho automatically wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer to him, his head leaning on yours.

You two sit there like that for a while. Only the sounds of the gentle breeze tickling your nose or the cicadas calling to each other were heard. That was until you spoke up. “...am I not worth spending time with, Jongho?”

He pulls away at the sudden question- looking at you as if you committed the most heinous crime on earth. “Where is this coming from? Of course not, _____. Being with you is worth every millisecond.”

You pick at your fingers and look down at your hands, saying nothing. Jongho’s brows furrow together in concern. You usually didn’t bother too much with how others perceive you but something must be bothering you this much for you to think this way. His warmer and much larger hands take yours, thumbs running over your skin.

“Does this have anything to do with prom?” He whispers over to you. He sighs when you shake your head.

It hurt to see you so down in the dumps. The dynamic between the two of you was that he was the more chill one while you were the more enthusiastic one. So seeing you so lethargic tore at his heartstrings. He wanted you to be happy, he wanted to keep you smiling. Whenever you do he sees your eyes light up and see the world with wonder and excitement. It always lightened his mood whenever he sees you like that- its almost as if the world’s problems don’t exist whenever he’s with you.

He got up abruptly and pulled out his phone. You look up at him, confused at his sudden actions. “What are you doing?” You ask him and receive no response.

Jongho scrolls through his phone and clicks something. A few seconds later, a soft melody plays through the night air. He sets down the phone one a nearby table and holds out his hand to you. “Come on, get up.”

You look at him, still confused, but get up nonetheless. He laces your fingers with his and pulls you flush to his body. A furious blush covers your cheeks at the proximity between you two. Sure, you two had moments where you were up in each other’s faces but this time it was different. It felt more personal, more intimate.

His free arm snaked around your waist, successfully securing you to him. He started swaying you from side to side along with the melody, looking down at you with the softest of gazes. You were practically speechless at what was happening, your mind still trying to wrap around what was happening.

“Dude, what are you doing?” You chuckle nervously but let him guide you.

“I’m dancing with you, dummy.” He teases you. “Now hush. Just enjoy this moment.”

You couldn’t help but huff in amusement at that, shaking your head at his antics. Eventually, your frown melts into the tiniest of grins as you let the moment engulf you two. Despite the soft and tender moment happening on the outside, your insides felt different. Your heart was beating rapidly against your ribcage and your stomach was doing somersaults. This was it- this was the moment that solidified your thoughts on your best friend.

This was the moment you realized that you were so head over heels in love with Choi Jongho.

You tried not to think much of his actions- after all maybe to him it was just some platonic dancing and nothing more. Worry started to eat away at you again, causing you to hang your head and watch your feet. Jongho on the other hand wasn’t having it. He knew something was bothering you and he wanted to help clear it up for you.

He gently cupped your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. “What’s on your mind, jellybean?”

You blank at his question. You didn’t think you’d have to tell him how you felt right now- you weren’t ready. Not yet.

You could feel your throat close up with the pressure of telling him the truth. Your lips move like a fish gasping for air but no words come out- well, none the way you want it to. “I-” You stammer. The sting of unwanted tears glazes your eyes. You feel your chest tighten as pressure overwhelms you, weighing you down by the shoulders and crushing you to the ground.

“Hey, hey,” Jongho whispers to you, pulling you in a comforting embrace. He reached up to stroke the back of your head. He could feel how your hands desperately clutched at the fabric of his dress jacket, your warm tears soaking through it as they drop to his shoulder.

“It’s okay, _____,” He mumbles into your hair. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not comfortable… But I have something I want to tell you.”

He gently peels away from you, cupping your cheeks in his warm palms, thumbs brushing over the apples of your cheeks. The way he looks at you makes your emotions stir with confusion. His gaze held so much love for you. It was tender and held so much emotion- so many things he wanted to say that were just about ready to tip over and spill out for you.

“_____,” He starts out softly as he brushes away your tears. “We’ve been friends for a long, long time. And honestly, I’m glad that you decided to give me a chance to be your friend despite accidentally smacking your face during recess.”

You both laughed at that, with you hiccuping through your tears. Nevertheless, Jongho’s speech never wavered and he continued for you.

“I’ve always wanted to talk to you the minute you moved into the neighborhood but I just didn’t know how. So imagine the horror I felt when I accidentally hit you. But despite that you still brushed it off and befriended me.

“Since then you’ve been a stable constant in my life. You helped me out of my shell and see things on a lighter note. You’ve been to every game I’m in, cheering me on whether I’m on the bench or not. You helped me discover my passion of singing and helped me pursue it. Let’s not forget every time you’ve caught every bug and saved me from it despite you showing it to me-”

“To be fair, gummy bear, they’re just harmless bugs.” You giggle to which he pouts at.

“They’re still insects. They’re monsters in tiny disguise; harmless my ass...” Jongho argues, successfully drawing a laugh from you. The corner of his lips twitch upward at the sound but he continues.

“Anyway moving on- my point is: having you in my life has changed it for the better. I don’t think I’d be the same person as I am today without you if you weren’t here for me. And over years- I’ve realized something that I should’ve done so earlier…”

Jongho tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his hand resting on your cheek afterward. You could only look up to him in wonder- eyes searching his for what he was trying to say.

He took a deep breath and decided to throw all caution to the wind. It was now or never-. Whatever the outcome was- he was going to accept it. He lets out a shaky sigh and holds your gaze firmly, eyes sparkling with a sense of vulnerability.

“_____, I think I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes widen at his words. Was this real? Were you hallucinating? Did he actually just tell you the words you’ve been dying to hear?

“You- I- what?”

“I said I love you.” The brunet replied, desperation seeping into his voice. “I’ve always had. You’re always on my mind when I wake up in the morning and wave to you through the window and before I go to sleep after begging you to quit staying up for your studies.”

You take a few moments to process his words before a grin makes its way to your face. And before you knew it you were throwing your arms around him, catching him by surprise. He responds almost immediately after, hugging you to him as you laughed into his shoulder.

All your worries melted away so suddenly and the weight was finally lifted off your shoulders. “You had me worried there for a second,” You tell him as you pull your head away to look at him. “Because I feel the same way.”

“Is that why you were so nervous earlier?”

You only nod in response to his question, leaning your forehead against his. The music from his phone was still playing, making you sway to the soft rhythm. Jongho follows suit, his gaze flickering over to your lips as he allows this moment to engulf the two of you.

You don’t miss this motion and you couldn’t help but gravitate towards him. “Hey, Jongho- do you mind if I ask you something?” He hums, signalling for you to continue. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

“It’s fine by me,”

You chuckle softly and cup his cheeks. You tease him a little by giving them a quick pinch, making him whine playfully, before standing on your toes to press your lips to his. Jongho sighs blissfully as he tilts his head against yours, deepening it further.

It was a bit of a silly sight from an outsider’s perspective- a guy in his prom suit kissing his childhood friend in their bear onesie. But it didn’t matter to either of you. You wouldn’t trade this moment for any of the riches in the world.

Smiles rest upon both your lips when the two of you pull away, too wrapped up in each other’s presence to notice your mother taking a picture of the two of you. The flash from her phone distracts you two and all color drains from your face when you realize what had happened.

“MOM!” You call out to her. She only laughs and scutters away to the living room, most likely telling your father or siblings what was happening outside.

You groan out in embarrassment at what just took place. “I’m never living this down.”

Jongho shook his head, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “Just think of it as memorabilia or something.”

You blush again for the umpteenth time that night when you feel his lips against your cheek. “Fine… but I’m getting that photo from her or she’ll hold it over our heads.”

The both of you lapse into silence again, the music from Jongho’s phone still playing in the night. “I love you so much, jellybean.” He whispers.

“I love you too, gummy bear.”

[smuckersblr]

Crybaby parody part 1?

“I swear man, they always plan these things when I can’t find an excuse to be in the damn theatre room.” One of the squares, Steve, mumbled to himself with self preservation. The squares and crybabies were all lined up in the gym, ready to get their shots for flu season, much to the squares’ dismay, they didn’t want to be in such close quarters to the damn holaguns.

The only one in this whole gym though, that didn’t really mind so much being near any crybaby, was Tony Stark. In fact he was intrigued with them, especially Peter Parker. The hottest crybaby he’s ever seen, in his opinion. “Come on, it can’t be that big of a deal…” Tony’s words were faint to his ears once he saw some of the crybabies push Peter up the front of the line, where Tony stood across from. Just the thought of sitting only an arms-length away from the guy has Tony’s pits soaked. “You better watch it with your gaze on that drape, Tones.” Rhodey mutters next to him, his eyes on the dirty floorboards of the old gymnasium.

“I-I don’t know what you're talking about.” Tony walked quickly up to the stool where the nurse rubbed a disinfectant on his arm for the needle. Peter fidgeting with the other nurse while she pestered him to “stay still, crybaby”. Tony was caught looking at his features when Peter finally looked up to see who was staring at him. Their eyes locked and Tony swore he felt a surge go through his body. Maybe it’s just him being a horny teenager, but Tony was in love.

Peter looked away quickly and smoothed his gelled hair back, a loose strand swinging at the front.

Peter stood out front of the school, hanging in front of his car with his crew, talking about plans for the weekend. Tony didn't mean to be nosy but he wanted to finally make a move. Once Tony started to walk towards their direction, his friends, Rhodey, Steve, and Bruce were begging him to come back. “Hey Parker.” Tony said dumbly, rubbing his clammy palms on his slacks looking like a complete dope. Peter looked Tony up and down slowly with a grin that showed the gem on his canine. “Hey Stark, you going to church or somethin’?” his friends chuckled next to him, all with cigarettes dangling from their mouths or a lighter to flick in their hands. Tony let out a nervous laugh and shook his head. “Nah, my ma made me wear this today for the senior photos.” Tony mentally slapped himself, because why the fuck did he tell him about that?

Peter laughed genuinely and stepped a little closer in Tony’s space. “Well if you’re not busy tonight you could come over and I could remove the issue.” Another loud chorus of laughter went up behind Peter, Tony blushed and smiled wearily, Peter's eyes scanning over Tony’s body made it clear what he would be removing. “Uh, yah sure I just need to ask my-” a loud horn honking behind them made Tony stop and turn around. “Mom?!” his mom had a crazed look in her eyes and her mouth agape. “Anthony Edward Stark, you better get yourself into this car right now and away from those drapes!” the crybabies feigned a hurt look and faux shock with their gasps. “Now now Mrs. Stark, if I didn’t know any better, I would assume that you squares shouldn’t be so rash around other folks like us.” Natasha, Peter’s sister, snarked back with a shark grin and a lollipop obscenely being sucked with her red lips. Mrs. Stark gasped and opened the door for Tony. “Tony, now!” Tony looked back at the crybabies and gave a sad smile. “Uh, maybe next time Pete.” Peter gave a wink and licked his teeth with a hungry look in his eyes. “I’d sure hope so Anthony.” Now Tony never liked his actual name, but once Peter said it, it just sounds so right. Tony blushed even harder and sat in the car, never breaking eye contact with Peter.

Peter watched the Cadillac screech off with a devilish grin on his face. “Peter’s got a crush~” Wanda giggled under Sam’s arm. Peter rolled his eyes and slammed his hand on the car's hood. “Lets ride!” they all yelled in excitement and got in the flame painted car.

There’s not one second that Tony can’t stop thinking of Peter’s soft face, contrasted with the leather jacket with the ‘crybaby’ logo on the back and the tattoo on his temple that just gets Tony weirdly aroused. Tony was scolded by his friends with his obsession, but he wasn’t the only one with these dark thoughts. Peter was in deep, every dream he had was filled with that dorky face that was so handsome underneath his big square glasses, his body hidden behind an oversized blazer and those loose slacks didn’t do him any justice. Peter would bite his lip and squeal to himself with every glance, every damn thought, it just drove him mad. So he went into action, cause that's what crybabies do. They take what they want.

Bucky had lectured him about dating a square, saying that Peter deserved the baddest of guys, and not some damn bible hugger. Peter naturally ignored what he told him, because Peter knew that Bucky was just being an overprotective idiot.

Peter sauntered down the school's hallway with a cherry lollipop and his gang's colors wrapped around his bicep since the heat has been high this week for a leather jacket.

The squares around Tony’s locker gaped and stuttered Tony’s name. Tony was oblivious with who was behind him, but once a hand tapped his shoulder, and he turned around. It felt like his body was lit on fire, like he was drowning in the damn attraction he felt for this guy. “Hey stud.” Peter’s voice smooth like wine, the lollipop being wrapped with his pink plush lips. “H-hey Peter, you look amazing.” Tony was amazed that he could even compliment Peter without combusting right there in front of him. Peter giggled and stepped closer, twirling a strand of Tony’s hair with his polished finger. “I missed you this weekend, I didn’t get to handle your little problem.” Tony felt his body go hot and heard his friends whisper to each other incredesly. Believe him, he was shook too that Peter was even wanting to be seen in front of Tony right now.

“I’m sorry, my ma and pops kept me locked in my room the whole weekend.” Peter pouted exateradedly and looked behind Tony briefly before smirking and leaning in closer, his lips grazing Tony’s ear. “Meet me behind the bleachers after fourth, okay?” Peter kissed Tony’s cheekbone while pulling back. Tony would do whatever Peter told him to, and he knows that sounds desperate, but he just wanted Peter so bad. “Ok.” Tony breathed, red seeping through his collar and the feeling of Peter’s lips on his cheek was still lingering there. Peter smiled and waved while sucking the treat back into his mouth, he looked at Tony’s friends once more with a wink and walked back to his sister Natasha.

“What the hell was that Tony!” Steve was baffled and quite frankly terrified for his friend.

Tony didn’t answer, but just sighed and looked longingly at Peter’s backside walk away.

Tony wouldn’t admit it if someone asked him, but he did run out of his fourth period class a minute before the bell rang to get to the bleachers early. He didn’t want to risk the chance of not being there on time, and Peter thought that he just didn’t show up and just left.

So Tony got to the bleachers out of breath, disheveled, yet still, on time. He was hunched over still once he heard a familiar laugh behind him. He swiveled around to see Peter leaning against a beam. “So you did want to see me again,” Peter stood up straight, his body defined with his tight shirt and those tight denim jeans. “I was starting to worry that you didn’t want to be seen around a drape.” Peter stood in front of Tony, his head tilted and a hand brushing Tony’s arm lightly, but dropping it before Tony could lean toward the touch. Tony’s brain caught up with what Peter was saying and shook his head wildly after realizing that he hadn’t denied it. “No Peter, it’s not that, I was just…” Tony trailed off, a nervous gulp moved his adams apple, which caught Peter’s eye. Peter smiled softly and leaned closer, his arms wrapping around Tony’s shoulders. “You just what Tones?” Tony breathed in sharply when Peter casually pushed their hips together, a mischievous look in the crybabies eyes. “I just get so nervous around you.” Tony didn't know he had it in him to hold Peter’s waist with a tight grip. But he was doing it, and Peter didn’t seem to mind.

“You do?” Peter says innocently, feigning a shocked face. Tony nodded, looking down but made himself look back up, because he needed Peter to know he wasn’t a square damnit. “Do I make you nervous when I do this?” Peter leaned in and ducked his head, the tip of his tongue lightly trailing up Tony’s neck to nibble his earlobe, moaning lightly in Tony’s ear. Tony groaned and pulled Peter closer. “You just make me excited when you do that.” Peter giggled and pulled back slowly. He tilted his head and played with the hair on Tony’s nape, twirling the short strands through his fingers and scratching his scalp, sending tingles through his head. Tony leaned his head into the touch, sighing contentedly and looking dazedly at Peter. “You’re so beautiful Pete.” Peter smiled at Tony’s dopey look, a puppy in love, how cute. “What else am I?” Peter leaned closer again and started to lightly kiss up Tony’s neck, with every peck becoming a little more wet. “You’re breath-taking.” Peter's kisses turned longer than just a simple peck, he would add some teeth. Grazing them against Tony’s pulse point and sucking a bit to rile Tony up more. Peter loved the compliments that just kept coming. “You’re a damn angel Peter.” Peter giggled against Tony's skin and pulled back. “I may be a lot of things Tony Stark, but I am no angel.” he leaned in again and pecked the corner of Tony’s lips. “I’m a crybaby Tones, got no place in my heart for that religious shit.” Tony nodded, not wanting to argue with Peter, he’ll go with anything Peter says. If he told Tony to stop going to church, he would. If Peter told him to stop wearing square clothes, he would. He’d do anything for him, he’d push mountains and go through hell and back for Peter Parker. “You know...you would look delicious in leather.” Peter licked his top row of teeth with that glint in his eyes again. If Peter said that Tony looked delicious in something, he would wear it everyday. So that's why he found himself standing in the main place Crybabies go to do their shopping at the mall. Bruce in tow with a nervous look and twitchy hands at his sides. “Tony why are we here again?”

“Because Peter said I’d look “delicious in leather”.” Tony idly went through racks of jackets and skipping over the studded ones, because the spikes seemed tacky, and Tony did have at least taste. “So you're here for a crybaby who doesn’t even know your last name?” Tony brushed off the glare Bruce was sending him and scuffed, pulling a hanger off the rack to inspect a nice looking leather jacket. “Bruce, he does know my last name, in fact I don't know one person in this town that doesn’t know my family.” Bruce gave a ‘your right’ look and pushed the jacket Tony was looking at down. “The back has too many gems on it, you’ll thank me later once they don’t laugh at you.” Tony nodded in agreement and pulled out another one. This one was just leather and looked like it would frame his body nicely. So he took that with him, along with the other shirts and jeans he grabbed.

At the dressing rooms they heard the loud rustle of clothes and some loud cursing with constant laughing. Bruce was fidgeting even more once Tony was starting to close the curtain for privacy. “Uh Tony can I come in with you.” Tony looked at his friend incredisiouly, “Dude really? You can't stand out there by yourself for like 5 minutes?” Bruce whined and looked at the curtains occupied with crybabies. Some were loitering outside the dressing rooms, smoking on cigarettes and looking at Bruce like he was their next lunch. “Ok man, hurry.”

Once they left the mall, to Bruce’s gratefulness, Tony felt a surge of power. “Do you know what this means Bruce?” Bruce frowned and shook his head, unlocking his ride and letting Tony inside the old car. “It means that I can date Peter now if I show him and his friends that I'm serious about changing for him.” Bruce’s frown seemed to get deeper and he gave a sad look to Tony while he pulled out the parking lot. “Tony, I don't mean to be a debbie-downer,” Tony scoffed, “Then don’t.” Bruce ignored him and spoke anyway.

“But, you know this isn’t some movie like Grease where the guy gets the girl after changing himself to fit into her circle.” Tony laughed and clapped Bruce's shoulder, making him tense and swerve a bit, then jerking the wheel to go straight. “Well of course not Brucey! He’s a guy!” Bruce shook his head and prayed silently for his best friend.

[outerbankslut]

Here For You... JJ Maybank

Summary • One afternoon after seeing a certain blond pogue hurt you are left confused and worried for him. So you set out to figure out exactly whats happened to him or more like what happens behind the closed doors of the Maybank residence.

Warnings • Swearing. Cannabis abuse. Mentions of abuse(from the show)-And please if you’re going through anything like that please talk to someone. My doors always open if you need to talk <3

Word Count • 4.3k (Imagine)

Masterlist

(GIF isn’t mine, let me know if it’s yours)

    FLOUR ENCASED YOUR clothing as you finally slid the greased up tray into the oven, dusting your hands off after. John B and your friends were out on the boat for the day which you declined to have the day to yourself to bake cookies and do homework in peace without the likes of John B your brother and JJ your best friend. He stayed around a lot and at this point he basically lived there but you didn't mind. Truth be told, you had a big fat crush on the boy. But it was the opposite of all teenage love stories. He didn't love you back. You often found yourself happy to wake up and see the boy sitting around the house drinking beer or smoking a joint. He gave a sense of comfort in the house that felt so empty without your dad.

You and John B being twins shared most things—one being friends. You had known the blond since you were in third grade, and that was when the crush bloomed but you could tell by his constant hookups he didn't know nor reciprocate those feelings. He only thought of you as a friend.

Then there was Pope. Occasionally you worked down at his dads shop for extra money for rent if your uncle didn't come through with it as well as groceries since he didn't seem to care if you or John B starved. Pope was the sweetest and smartest boy you had met. When your brother refused to show you how to drive a boat the Pope showed you on delivery once. Though it got you in trouble with Heyward when you turned back up late to the shop.

And Kiara. She was a Kook. Got a taste of both sides of the jungle. The kooks didn't sit well with her so she ended up an honorary pogue. She was your best friend as soon as she joined the group since you'd never had a girl to talk to since your mum left and your house was filled with boys.

You sighed as you settled down atop the counter looking at your phone as you added a timer since the one on the oven was broken. It was all quiet apart from the low hum of the oven fan until a door was shoved open and stumbling footsteps walked round the house.

Everyone else was on the boat, so who the hell was this?

You picked up the wooden base ball bat from that leaned on the wall just in case and held your phone ready to call 911 and inched towards where the sound was coming from.

And the bathroom light was on, you furrowed your eyes brows in confusion.

Then when you pushed open the door you caught a flash of golden blond locks as the boy quickly turned around putting his shirt on quickly.

"JJ?"

A bruise had formed just beneath his eye and along his cheek bone, mixed arrays of blues and purples splashed with the cream colour of his skin. You gasped as you saw it. His lip was busted and there was a small cut just above his eyebrow.

You reached forward to get a better look at his face as you finger lightly grazed over the bruise and he flinched away slightly making you frown.

"Sorry." You pulled away looking at the boy who had nothing to say in that moment but normally was not the quiet type. "Wait, why are you here? I thought you were on the boat with the others."

"I decided not to go today. I—um, had to help out my dad with some stuff at home." His voice wavered as he spoke leading you to believe he was keeping something. Then he turned his eyes to you. "What about you? Didn't think anyone would be here."

"I have homework to do. But that's beside the point. What happened to your face?"

He panicked. You couldn't know. As much as he wanted to wrap his arms around you and just stay there forever in your safe arms he couldn't. He couldn't drag you into his mess of a life. If would be best if you stayed just outside of it. You couldn't get hurt because of him.

"Homework. And I thought Pope was the nerd." He was deflecting. You rolled your eyes at the act. Something was definitely up. If this was just a small run in with Rafe other other Kooks then why would he be hiding that?

You sighed deciding not to question him for a second. Though you wanted to know who did it so you could punch them, he could tell you in his own time.

"I can help clean you up, got some frozen peas in the freezer. And some antiseptic wipes for that cut. But after that I want to know what happened."

"You know, I forgot I've got to get back to work and stuff. I'll see you later, Lu." He rushed past you away from the bathroom he had sought refuge in, where he thought he was alone but the prying eyes of Lucie Routledge never once left his.

"Wait, JJ!"

But he didn't stop. He carried on until he was perched on his bike and you were walking down the porch stairs.

He ignored you pulling on his helmet though when doing so his shirt rode up slightly and you got a glimpse of how bad it really was. How bad his homelife was. Though you didn't connect the dots just yet.

You gasped with a hand over your mouth seeing bruises all down his side, a messy painting of purples, blues and greens mashed together. But before you could say anything he sped away leaving you in your thoughts about what the hell happened.

The rest of the night you filled the out the pit in your stomach with chocolate chip cookies and empty thoughts. Since then you couldn't concentrate on your homework having given up an hour ago just when John B came back with Pope and Kie.

Your brother barrelled into your room a cookie in hand and jumped onto your bed as you winced hoping it didn't break.

"Did you guys have a good day?"

"Yeah. Especially since you weren't there." He joked taking a hefty bite of the cookie just as you threw your pillow his way.

He noticed your expression after that. You were distracted and confused and seemed distant.

"What's up with you?"

You sent him a puzzled look. "Nothings up with me. I don't know what you're talking about."

He rolled his eyes before standing up and messing up your hair with his hand which you promptly slapped away. "Well if you want to talk then I'm just next door."

Except you weren't part of the thoughts plaguing your mind. It was JJ.

    THE NEXT DAY when everyone was round at the Chateau JJ didn't even look at you. His gaze was focused either on the ground or towards whoever was speaking except from you. You could never get him alone to talk to him since he made sure you were never alone in a room and would spark up a conversation with literally anyone before you could utter a word.

It was midday and you were out on the HMS pogue with them all sitting next to Kie. John B was fishing, JJ was smoking as usual on the other side of the boat, Pope was reading and Kie was on her phone while you were braiding your hair. If the others weren't here you would definitely be able to cut the tension between you and JJ with a knife. If he was going to ignore you for wanting to help him then so would you. Two can play at that game.

The others could sense something was wrong though and were choosing to ignore it. They could tell since JJ had only flirted with Kie all day. He'd willingly had a conversation about science stuff with Pope. And none of them had seen either of you speak a word to each other.

As you sat with your eyes covered by sunglasses and body clad in a purple bikini you heard a squeal emitting from beside you and turned to see John B tipping fish out of a net right next to you and Kie and you felt a small splash on your legs of water from the dead Sea life.

"Nice haul, dude. Look at that." JJ commented.

Kie grimaced scouting away as she moaned at the boy for putting it so close to her. "Ugh, John B."

"Been all bait for, like, three weeks." Then John B threw a fish at JJ landing beside him.

"Gross."

Then your brother turned to you holding a fish in his hand and you scooted further away practically laying on Kie. "John B, do not thr—"

You were interrupted by the slimy fish landing on your lap after it had hit your face. JJ erupted with laughter at that as you narrowed your eyes. Practically the only interaction he had today with you. You narrowed your eyes on JJ before turning to John B and throwing the fish back at him as he ran to the other side of the boat.

Then JJ tackled down at the bow of the boat laughing before Pope jumped on top and Kie joined.

"Incoming." You yelled as you flopped down on the four people pile hearing groans in response with muffled laughter.

"I think you guys squished my organs." John B muttered as JJ nodded but you couldn't help but lie there and wish that this would be the way your life was for ever. The boat adventures, surfing, island life and doing whatever the fuck you wanted.

"Uh... Lu?" Kie muttered nudging your side and you jumped off realising you had just been sitting and staring into space. You noticed JJ wincing slightly as you all got up and felt guilty. Though he did jump into it himself. Literally.

"Sorry."

"No problem, my lungs may no longer work but it's fine." John B said and you flicked him on the forehead when he sat up.

Kie looked to you as though she got an idea and smiled. "Food at the wreck? I've got a shift in like...an hour."

"Not gonna turn down food. Especially from the wreck my favourite place on earth."

"My dads not gonna give you a discount for ass kissing." Kie deadpanned to JJ who looked dejected as you laughed. "You can have leftovers from are lunch menu though if I can convince him."

"Score." He pumped his fist in the air and you rolled your eyes. This was going to be a long day if he kept this up.

    AT THE WRECK the table could not been more awkward. The only seats left were next to each other that both you and JJ were forced to take while the other three sat on the other side of the round table laughing and joking around. It was like they did it on purpose. You picked at the fries in the small basket while JJ entered the conversation and you kept mulling over yesterday. The thought of JJ hating you felt horrible—like you were about to throw up every passing second. It may seem an overreaction to him ignoring you all day but why else would he be. Maybe you did something yesterday. Maybe you said something wrong. Maybe you—

"Lu?" Kiara stared concerned from beside you. Maybe you'd been lost in your thoughts for too long.

"What's up?"

She pointed to your hand and you looked down to see in your ranting thoughts you hadn't paid much attention to anything else and had squished a few fries in your hand. "You murdered some poor fries." She pouted as you laughed.

"Oh. Oops." You dropped them into the basket and by impulse sent a fleeting glance towards JJ who stared at his own food eating slowly which was unusual for him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine."

Kie nodded in response slowly not really believing you.

"Okay, well I have to go start my shift now. So I’ll see y'all later." You all waved goodbye to the Carrera girl before finishing your food and heading back out on the boat from the docks by the wreck.

First it was dropping Pope off at Heywards to help his dad and then you headed back to the chateau, a silence among you until your brother coughed awkwardly looking between the two off you.

"Okay, none of us said anything earlier but you guys are acting weird. First it was you guys not speaking a word to each other. Then it was your fry mass murder. What's going on?"

"Nothing." JJ shrugged nonchalantly. Yep absolutely nothing was wrong. It was all fine and dandy.

"Whatever you guys want to think." John B shrugged not pushing anymore.

Once you got back to the Chateau John B docked up the boat just as JJ walked off down the dock to the house. You sighed. Could you give him anymore time? This couldn't go on for much longer. Surely.

    HE WAS STILL ignoring you the next day and it was just pissing you off now. So you stormed out to the porch where he had laid himself across the couch smoking. John B was out at work so it was just the two of you there and he was actively avoiding you.

"JJ!"

Still nothing. So you did something he would definitely respond to. You went up to him and before he realised, you had snatched the joint from his fingertips.

"Hey!"

"So now you talk to me." He scowled before attempting to take the joint back but you moved backwards sending concerned eyes to his rigid figure. "I'm worried about you JJ. You come in with bruises and avoid telling me why or letting me help you and then you ignore me all day yesterday. What's going on?"

His eyes softened as he focused his gaze on you and ran a hand through his hair turning around. And just when you thought he was going to open up to you he stopped the softness in his eyes dissipating into emptiness.

"What’s wrong is you just don’t know when to let off. You need to mind your own business Lu. You’re fucking annoying getting in everyone’s business all the time.” His voice was angry but it didn’t reach his eyes. The frustration didn’t reach those baby blue eyes. In fact they were filled with a sea of guilt and regret. But it was done now. He couldn’t go back now. And he knew he’d royally fucked up when he saw your face melt into a melancholy frown. But what did he expect?

So it was your fault. You were too nosey? But you were truly just worried about your friend. Is that a crime?

“Are you joking or something?” You laughed to ease the tension but the coldness in his face didn’t break. “You’ve been mad at me because I care? Your my friend, of course I care. I’m not going to apologise for getting into your business if it means that you’re okay.”

“It’s getting unbearable! You’re getting unbearable and annoying. I can’t—I just needed—need a break! So forgive me for not wanting to talk to you today! Because no one asked you to help them, it’s not your fucking place!”

“I know no one asked thats just what you do as a friend. You support them no matter what. Those bruises are clearly from something bad if you don’t want me to know. So I’m sorry someone actually fucking cares about you JJ!” Your voice raised towards the end but then cracked at the tears building in your throat suffocating you.

It broke JJ. He was causing this. He was the idiot that made you think you were anything less than amazing. But it was for your own good. Right?

Your best friend and unrequited love, thinks your unbearable and annoying and intrusive. And yet had never mentioned it all this time.

“I just need a break for a bit, I need you to leave me alone for a bit and so I can cool off. Is that too hard for you?!”

“What? Our friendship? You can’t just put something like that on hold. You can go fuck yourself cause when your ‘ready’ and ‘cooled off’ I won’t fucking care. Find yourself some new friends who don’t care about you cause it won’t be hard for me to leave you the fuck alone!” You spat at him. Was it too harsh? You were scared it was but he was harsh first. He didn’t say anything after. Just stayed quiet as you scoffed, salty tears sliding down your cheeks.

"You're a fucking asshole JJ Maybank." You shook your head and shoved past the boy. Your mind had completely forgotten about the bruises now. If he wanted to stay out of his business then so be it. You would remove him completely from your life.

The rest of the day you lounged around the house. After the argument you hadn't given JJ his joint back so you got high the rest of the time and it helped. For a few hours and then you were back to mourning your friendship. Thinking about all the good times you’d had. All the times when he didn’t seem to hate you. The blond hadn't resurfaced. He left just after the argument going somewhere but obviously you didn't ask.

It was days after that and you were laying in your bed that was pressed up beside the window and staring at the sky thinking about the blonds words over and over.

A loud knock startled you out of your gaze and you looked down to see the figure of the boy you had been thinking about all day. Your eyes settled on him narrowed and blazing until you saw his face. Littered with more bruises than the day before. More than you could count.

He stood looking so much smaller than any other time than you had seen him. His eyes were watery and red and you could see him trembling slightly. You immediately wanted to take him into your arms and hug him tight. But would he want to?

You quickly went and opened your window allowing him in as you scooted backwards in your bed. When he got in you immediately went and hugged him not even asking for an explanation this time. He was upset and hurt and what he needed then was comfort not an interrogation.

As soon as your arms wrapped around his body he shook with sobs his tears running down your shoulder.

You rubbed his back and made soothing circles as tears of your own leaked out. After 10 minutes he moved away looking down not feeling like he could even look you in the eye after earlier and him crying to you.

"I'm so sorry, Lu. I didn't mean to hurt you and I didn't mean anything I said. I just didn't want you to know. I didn’t want you to know—to see how weak I was. I wanted to push you away so you wouldn't get involved in my messed up life." You nodded slowly as more tears fell. Tears of relief but also sadness. Sad that he didn’t think he could come to you. To confide in you and that instead he pushed you away in the worst way possible hurting you both.

JJ felt like shit. Emotionally and physically. He couldn’t believe what he had done to you days earlier. It was like his mind was in autopilot not allowing you to do anything by watch as you both argued.

He still avoided your gaze until you softly put a hand under his chin lifting his gaze to your as you smiled sadly at him. "It's okay J. I just wanted to make sure you were okay so I could help or stop it somehow. But right now there's more important things than that and I need to get some first aid stuff."

Just as you got up his hand reached out to yours holding it softly and stopping you in your tracks.

"It was my dad."

You froze tears gathering at the hoarseness of his voice and the crack that echoed when he said it. His dad. Though you never liked Luke Maybank, you never thought he would stoop this low. Beating his own child. It would take a lot of willpower not to go over there and give him a taste of his own medicine. The one person that’s supposed to take care of him. To love him. Beats him instead.

You didn't say anything except hug him once more time. Holding him tight but careful around the bruises areas. The thought of his dad putting those bruises and scars all over his body made you sick to your stomach. How dare he. How dare he think he had any right to lay a hand on his child like that.

You left when he sat perched on the edge of your bed no longer crying. It broke your heart since JJ was a tough nut to crack half the time. But this was obviously going to be his breaking point. It would be anyone’s.

You gathered all the thing you'd need and took JJ to the bathroom careful not to wake John B as you did.

"Tell me if it hurts okay?" He nods and you take an antiseptic wipe towards the new cut on his cheek dabbing it gently to clean it. There was another cut on his arm and his split lip which you cleaned as well as the boy stared at you intently. You felt redness spread across your cheeks as you finally looked into his eyes.

"What?" You asked and he just shook his head a small smile appearing.

"I'm just realising how much of an idiot I was pushing you away this morning. Your my best friend—no you're more than that and I shouldn't have done that I just didn't want to get you caught up in this mess."

"Exactly JJ. I'm your best friend. A best friend is meant to be there for you in moments of weakness or through things like this. I don't care about being caught up in all this I just care about you. I’m here for you. Always." You carried on cleaning his open wounds carefully. JJ realises in that moment. You were the one person who stood by him when he got beat up in 4th grade by a bully or when people were hanging up on him and you stood up for him. You stuck around when he did crazy shit that the others didn’t stick around for. He realised that as much as you were there for him, he wanted to be there for you. He wanted to be loved by you. Not by his lowlife dad. Or his random Touron hookups. He wanted them to be you. Always you. He loved you.

"I love you." He spurted out and you stifled a gasp as you stood silently, your hand frozen in air millimetres from his face as you stared at each other. The way he said it didn’t sound like just a friend I love you. It sounded like something more. Some more which you reciprocated but you didn’t think there would ever be a day when he would say that.

"I love you too." You laughed it off.

"No Lu, I—I love you more than a friend."

“I love you more than a friend too. JJ Maybank.” His eyes widened in happiness the corners of his lip turning up and stretching as he grinned despite his split lip.

He looked like he couldn't believe it. But you had been crushing on him for longer than you could remember but you always thought it was one way. That he thought of you like a sister or something.

But maybe this whole time you had both been oblivious to each other’s blatant feelings. At least it was out now.

He placed two hands softly on your cheeks and gently pulled you in closer smashing your lips together. You could taste the metallic blood of his cut as your tongues brushed over each other’s but you didn’t care. You both pulled away breathless as you smiled into his touch. JJ looked dazed. Though the thoughts of his injuries still plagued your mind as you pulled away running out of the room to get an ice pack and some tylenol.

The bruises running down his body made you more angry by the second. But you couldn’t be blinded by that. Keeping a level head for the boy was what was important.

When you came back the boy grinned shaking his head.

“You didn’t need to get me that. What we just did was enough of a pain reliever. Though it did make me wanna relieve myself in another way if you—”

“JJ. No.” He pouted as you said that like a sad puppy.

“Another time?”

“Yeah whatever.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile. Somehow even through this JJ managed to smile and joke around. He had his bad days. Like the last. But he was strong. And you loved him for that. “I’m always here for you if you need me. In that way and any other way. Also you’re not going home.”

“Of course, Milady. Why don’t we go watch Netflix and—”

“Do not finish that J.”

“Awe, come on.”

Note • This is so long Jesus. And it took me so long to finish writing and edit and I still kinda hate it but I don’t think it’ll get better than this. Oh well. Oh I forgot that when I was writing it I gave them a name rather than y/n and I cba to change it now.

[frostsinth]

The Secret We Keep - Pt. 4

Part 1|2|3  - MasterList -

I’m going to get secondhand embarrassment from these two. And its a killer. Seriously though, I almost can’t stand it myself. AND I’M WRITING IT.

Thank you all for the wonderful feedback on the last post. The comments had me smiling all day. This one’s a little shorter, I think, but hopefully just as good a read. Enjoy! Keep telling me how much you’re suffering! It makes me feel some strange, devilish glee...

After a horribly restless night, the next day had me up at dawn. I couldn’t seem to sit still, and so began carrying the stones out of the pit in the center of the yard. I stacked them alongside the ramshackle stable, careful to keep my injured palm well under wraps. Unfortunately, that only occupied my hands, leaving my mind free to wander. Nerves wrapped cool coils around my gut, and I jumped at every little sound. My thoughts were filled with visions of a huge, dark green-grey orc, as big as a barn and with wild black hair like a lion’s mane around broad shoulders.

Blessedly, a little later in the morning had customers streaming in; the previous day’s roast had piqued the interest of the village it seemed. Many were returning customers, officially placing orders including deposits. The rest of my day was filled with making arrangements and setting scheduled pick ups. One customer even brought chickens they wished cooked; two for dinner that night, the last to be salted for later. I was more than pleased to receive a huge basket of eggs in exchange for the job. It reminded me of old times, back when I was a child before my father became sickly. We had never made much money, but we had never wanted for anything. People had always been willing to trade with the local butcher.

This included, it seemed, the blacksmith down the road. He and his teenaged son stopped by just after noon. Some haggling had a price set for a large amount of meat in exchange for a new set of knives. I was so excited I nearly dislocated his shoulder shaking his hand so hard. But he was genial about it, and promised the work to be completed within a day or two.

I spent the early evening out at the farms, bartering for the animals I would need to fill the orders. The farmers were hardy people, and stubborn as rocks. It was difficult going to procure sales that left me with enough profit to warrant the work. But I enjoyed every second, and had a smile on my face throughout the day, despite how far I had to walk in the heat.

By the time night had fallen, I was eager to collapse into bed. Though I had hoped my exhaustion would bring sleep easily, I still spent half the night staring up at the ceiling in the dark. My mind racing and my heart pounding. When I did finally fall asleep, it was to dreams filled by a pair of broad shoulders and fading footsteps

The next day dawned wet; I knew instantly when the rain started, as it began dripping through the roof onto my nose. I spent the first part of the morning placing buckets under holes in the house to catch the leaks in the thatch. Four in all, at least that I had found. It was the first summer storm in a while, and I stretched myself in the doorway, breathing in the damp air. My yard was already mostly mud, and there was a large puddle forming in the cooking pit. I looked at it regretfully, wishing I had been able to fill it before the rain had hit. But I was relieved to feel the refreshing chill the storm brought to the air, knowing tomorrow the scorching heat would be back.

I skittered across the yard with my apron over my head to avoid the worst of the rain, ducking into the protective cover of the shop front. I kept myself busy prepping some of the work I had pending, and packaging out jerky and salted meats for orders due to be picked up later. I kept my notes meticulous, and scratched the quill neatly over the parchment to mark each package. Then I gathered up my skins in a bundle, tying those with twine, and was able to fill an old flour sack with the feathers from the plucked chickens. I had a barrel full of hollowed and cleaned horns, as well as one with hooves. I placed the feathers and skins on top of those, thinking perhaps I might be able to sell or trade those as well.

The soft scrape of the wood door against the floor surprised me; I had assumed the day would be quiet until the heavy rain let up. I came up from behind the counter, curious who had bothered to venture out in such weather.

My heart leapt into my throat as the big orc hunched his shoulders and ducked into the shop. I didn’t have time to suppress my grin as he dropped the hood of his cloak and closed the door behind him. Muffling the sounds of the rainstorm once more.

“Hans!” I exclaimed, quickly wiping my hands on my apron and coming around the front of the counter.

I stopped short, suddenly fearing my overeagerness would put him off. I smiled, but shuffled my feet and rubbed the back of my neck as he slowly moved deeper into the shop. I looked for something to say, or wondered if perhaps I should go embrace him, or tell him how much I had been thinking of him. But I did none of these things, instead just standing there like a buffoon as he shook the rain off his cloak.

When his slate eyes found mine, I felt my breath catch in my throat. I hoped that maybe he would be braver in that moment, or give me some sort of lead to follow. He stood there silently for a moment, then cleared his throat and took one hesitant step forward. I smiled again, wringing my hands and glancing at the ground. Uncertain exactly where we stood now, or what he expected of me. I tried to remember what had preceded our previous encounter. Wondering if I could recreate it enough to bring us back to that moment.

“...A-are you hungry?” I finally managed to stammer, feeling heat rise to my cheeks, “I probably have some salted pork around…” I turned, rushing back over to the crates and barrels behind the counter, “I’d invite you back to the house for some gin, but there are so many leaks in the roof, we’d be better off standing outside.” He turned, scowling, his attention perked at my words. “Luckily I have almost everything we need here-”

The big orc gave a hearty growl, cutting me off, then turned, stomping across the shop. He ducked out the back door into the driving rain. I managed to dart over to the doorway just in time to see him reaching the house. He hadn’t bothered to pull up his hood again. I quickly yanked my apron back over my head and followed after him.

“I-is something wrong?” I called in confusion as I reached the door, dropping my apron. 

At first, my heart raced, thinking he had decided to take matters into his own hands. To be more forward, rather than doing our usual dance. But the orc in question was studying the leaks, rubbing one big hand over his chin. I saw him assess them with a critical eye, including the buckets and jars half full of water beneath them. I barely had time to move out of the way as he bustled past me again, back out into the rain. I started to call after him, even stepping one foot back into the yard. But Hans ignored me, striding over to the pile of wood he had brought with him the last time. Selecting several pieces, as well as a hammer and some nails, he strode back over to the house. After leaning the long slats against the wall, he dragged over one of my larger barrels, testing it before clambering on top. I groaned internally; at this point, I should know better than to wonder at his strange desire to fix all my problems as soon as he learned of them. In fact, I blamed myself for mentioning it at all.

“Hans, come inside!” I had to practically shout to be heard over the din of the heavy rain, “It's too wet right now, you’ll get hurt! The leaks aren’t that bad, really!”

From the barrel, he was easily able to reach up and grab hold of the edge of the roof. I gasped nervously as he hoisted himself up. Unsure if the old roof was ready to hold the weight of such a huge orc.

“Hans!” I shouted again, coming around to the front of the house to look up at him. I cupped one hand at my forehead to keep the rain from running into my eyes. “Please! Be careful!”

I watched him shuffle the thatch around, finding the first hole. Before he could come back to the edge, I rushed over and lifted one wooden slat, passing it up to him. He growled, giving me a dark disapproving look. I knew he would probably rather I wait inside. But I wasn’t about to do that when he was up there getting himself drenched in the rain. And perhaps the less he moved up and down off the roof, the less likely it was to come crashing down around his ears.

He worked quickly, hammering the slat into place and rearranging the thatch on top. I watched anxiously as he carefully navigated the frame of the roof. I passed him the next slat, and the next. I heard the old wood groaning in protest, and at one point there was an audible crack that had me jumping out of my skin. But it held, and soon the big orc clambered back down, dangling his legs over the side before dropping the last few feet.

I practically shoved him with both hands into the house, unconcerned about his soaked boots or the water dripping off of every inch of his body. Between the two of us, the dirt floor inside was soon slick mud.

“Are you crazy?” I demanded, closing the door behind us and spinning on him. “You could’ve been hurt! How did you know that old roof would even hold you?”

Hans merely snorted, wiping the streaming water from his forehead with the back of one hand. He seemed to be avoiding my gaze, and shuffled his feet awkwardly in the center of my tiny house. I rolled my eyes, gritting my teeth. I moved over to the table, dragging of of the benches closer to the oven and propping open the door to let the warmth of the small fire out.

“Strip your wet clothes and sit!” I ordered, hands on my hips. Brow furrowed.

I saw him raise one large brow at this, and seemed to consider me for a moment. I wondered if my frustration was seeping smoke out my ears, for it certainly felt like it might. But when I thought about how reckless he had been? All for my sake? I nearly collapsed from the shock of it.

Apparently I looked serious enough, for he reached up and began unstrapping his armor. While he did, I grabbed a few more small logs from by the door and stoked up the fire as well as clearing the table. As he removed his armor, I spread it out there to dry, then grabbed a spare line of twine to string between the rafters over the stove. I barely glanced at his bare chest as he passed me his shirt and obediently sat by the fire in just his trousers. I reached up, standing on my tip toes, and draped his tunic over the line.

Next I went to the bed, pulling off my large comforter and carrying it over. I dropped it around his burly shoulders as he bent down to remove his soaked boots and stockings. He glanced over at me as I did, and I saw his nose twitch as his big fingers curled into the blanket and pulled it around himself. I found I was still fuming, even after all that. Kicking his boots closer to the fire, I spun to him again, hands back on my hips.

“Of all the absolutely outrageous, dangerous, stupid…” I shook my head biting my tongue, “You would think you had never heard of the ills of working in the rain. I’ve heard of the stubbornness of orcs, but by the Gods! The leaks were hardly going to-” I stopped again, tossing up my hands and sighing in exasperation.

I turned, going over to the shelf and pulling down a bottle of gin and a drinking horn. Bringing it back over to him, I practically shoved the cup into his hand, still scowling as I worked the cork off and filled it to the halfway mark.

“Here. This will warm you faster than the fire.” I grumbled, “And hopefully if we’re lucky you won’t catch your death.”

Hans caught my hand as I went to recork the bottle, and I finally looked at him. His deep blue eyes were soft, studying my face as his hand gently stilled my motions. He ran his thumb over my knuckles, and glanced down at our hands briefly before looking back up at my face. I felt my frustration and will power waver at his touch, felt my breath catch as I saw his big eyes staring up at me. I struggled, holding on to whatever was left, resisting the urge to melt before him.

“...You are drenched too.” He pointed out, his deep voice quieter than usual.

That did give me pause. I looked down at my soaked dress, and felt my wet hair plastered to my neck. I realized I must look quite the sight. The warmth of the orc’s hand against mine sent my mind spinning, and the last of my anger fizzled out. Perhaps he saw my expression softening, because I felt him give my hand a light squeeze. Making it nearly impossible to stay mad at the fool.

I sighed again, nodding in agreement. So he released my hand, somewhat reluctantly, and I slipped over to the corner. I had no other dresses I could wear, I realized, and glanced at him over my shoulder. I found his eyes following me, and felt my ears grow a little hot. He cleared his throat awkwardly, and turned back to face the stove. But he was right. I could not stay in the wet clothes, and now that I was calmer I could already feel goosebumps tracing across my damp skin.

Slowly, hesitantly, I reached up and undid the tie at my throat. Then the one at my waist. Swallowing nervously, I checked back over my shoulder. But the orc’s broad back was still to me, and I heard him slowly sipping at the gin. I let the dress fall away, revealing my thin slip underneath. Perfect for sleeping in hot weather. Not exactly the most appropriate thing to wear with company.

Digging through the old, worn chest at the foot of my bed, I pulled out my woolen shawl and wrapped it around my shoulders. Not a perfect fix, but better than nothing. At least the important parts were covered.

Gathering up my damp clothes, I walked back over and reached up on my tiptoes again to drape them beside Hans’ tunic on the line. I tried to ignore the heat rising into my cheeks as I went over and grabbed a horn for myself. I could almost feel his eyes on me, and my tongue felt dry in my mouth. I briefly wondered what he was thinking, but found if I lingered on that train of thought too long, my knees went weak.

I had left the bottle by Hans on the bench, and slowly walked over to it. He saw my intent and quickly picked it up, popping the cork. When I held out my horn, he carefully filled it, then replaced the bottle on the bench beside him. I took a shaky sip, feeling the burning liquid slip down my throat.

His hand found my wrist again, and I looked over at him as he gently wrapped his fingers around it. He placed his own cup down, then reached out with his other hand to catch my elbow. I took another nervous sip as the big orc gently pulled me towards him.

Spreading his knees slightly, he drew me to stand before himself, his fingers trailing along my arms. I let him take my horn and place it beside his, my breath quivering past my lips as it haltingly left my lungs.

From his sitting position, we were almost perfectly eye level, and he quickly dropped his gaze almost shyly. I was glad, for I was certain if I met his eyes with mine, I’d become permanently lost to the world. My lips started to tingle with the memory of his kiss from the day before, and I swallowed the anxiousness forming in my throat. Threatening to strangle me. For his part, he ran his fingertips lightly up and down my arms, then caught my hands in his to trace his thumbs over my knuckles and gently squeeze my fingers.

We stayed like that for a long moment, neither of us quite daring to meet the other’s eyes. Neither of us willing to pull away. He studied my hands as he gently ran his fingers over them, I watched the way his chest slowly rose and fell with each deep breath. I even dared trace my eyes over the large, defined muscles of his shoulders, down the length of his arms. I bounced my gaze back to his collarbone, then down the center of his chest. I felt heat prick the balls of my cheeks as I did, and shuffled my feet nervously.

“You know... I-I… I can’t seem to stop thinking about you…” I muttered softly, barely above a whisper, then felt my face catch fire.

He gave a soft sound, unlike any I had heard him make before. It rested deep in his throat, seeming to bubble up directly from his chest rather than from his mouth. At first, I could have mistaken it for a growl. But as his hand slipped to my waist, then around to my lower back, I decided it had been much more akin to a tender chuff. He pulled me a little closer, until he was forced to turn his head up, or otherwise have his face buried against my chest.

My breath stopped as our eyes met, and I gingerly slid my arms around his neck. Resting them lightly on his shoulders, my fingers buried in his hair. I saw his dark, slate blue eyes dart to my lips, then back up to my eyes. My heart skipped several beats, and I felt myself quivering beneath his gaze. His thumb slowly traced circles in the small of my back, and he slid his other hand up my arm and over my shawl to hesitate on my shoulder. The warmth of his skin against mine left me reeling, and I wanted nothing more than to completely melt into his arms. I could feel it through my thin slip on my back and even through the woolen shawl.

“....I would like to be bold again.” He said finally, and in his deep, rumbling voice the softness of his words seemed to blend them together in the air between us.

I felt my heart skip another beat before returning to its racing pace, putting a hummingbird to shame. I couldn’t keep my eyes from flickering down to his thick lips briefly before returning back to his slate blues. I realized after a few belated moments that he was asking my permission.

A tiny smile twitched the corners of my mouth. “Please do.” I replied, my voice barely above a breathy whisper.

At my answer, his big hand ran over my shoulder, then buried itself in the hair at the base of my skull. And he slowly, gently, pulled me down into a kiss.

A loud pounding at the door had us both jumping in surprise. I even squeaked, jerking backwards and nearly falling over myself. Hans’ arm steadied me until I had leveled my feet beneath myself again. Now it was a deep, angry growl that filled his throat.

The big orc stood, his eyes lingering on me momentarily as he stomped over to the door. I wrapped my arms around myself to keep from quivering in the aftershock of his touch, pulling my shawl tighter around myself. It suddenly occurred to me that the big orc was going to answer my own door for me. I felt a slight panic rising, as I wondered exactly how the person on the other side would react when a huge orc greeted them instead of me. I could only imagine what the village would think, and visions of pitchforks and torches harassed me as I started to rush after Hans to intercept whatever horrible misinterpretation was about to take place.

But as he yanked open the door, I recognized the orc from a few days previous standing there, rain streaming down his face and every other available inch of him. I raked my brain, trying to remember what Hans had called him in between wondering what he was doing at my door in the middle of a rainstorm.

If looks could kill, the unfortunate smaller orc would have been dead before Hans could have even opened the door. He seemed to sense the larger man’s rage, and had hunched himself into as non-threatening a shape as possible. Even holding up his huge hands apologetically. Not that he could look particularly imposing at the moment, absolutely drenched in rain as he was. I decided instead he looked like a wet cat, guiltily seeking shelter in its master’s house after having run off with the breakfast sausage earlier that same day. I would have laughed, had I not been trying to make myself as small as possible to avoid his notice.

“I’m so sorry, Boss,” The smaller orc began, and the returning thunder from Hans had him shrinking back into the rain even further, “I apologize, you know I would normally never… ah...but we… uh,” His eyes darted over to me briefly before he looked back at his companion, “We have an, uh…. An emergency… That needs your immediate attention…”

Hans seemed to be considering strangling the man. I saw his brow set into a dark, heavy scowl, and he ground his teeth together audibly. I almost winced at the sound.

The door cracked loudly against the frame as the huge orc slammed it in the others’ face. I jumped, skittering backwards a few steps in surprise. Hans turned, grumbling angrily under his breath.

As soon as his eyes settled on me, though, his entire body seemed to soften. The furrow between his brow, the scowl on his lips, the tautness in his shoulders. Quietly, he walked over, reaching easily over my head to pull his tunic down off the line.

“... I have to go,” He mumbled, and I thought he sounded a little guilty.

I glanced back over at the door as he pulled the shirt over his head, then began collecting his armor. 

“Is everything alright?” I asked tentatively, rubbing my hand up and down my arm.

He gave a grunt in response, and I recognized it as one of his affirmative ones. I was surprised with how quickly he donned his armor, despite the fact that everything was still soaked. He shook out his cloak quickly before settling the damp fabric over his shoulders once more. I watched, even opening and closing my mouth a few times. My fingers shook when I reached up to push my hair back out of my face.

“... Can I help?”

Slate blue eyes flickered over to me again, and perhaps it was my imagination but I thought his features softened even more. He shook his big head, damp locks slapping about his shoulders as he did. Slowly, he came over, standing over me once more. I craned my neck back to look up at him. He hesitated, then lifted his hand and ran it along my jaw.

“... I’ll be back as quickly as I can…” He promised, then hesitated again, glancing down at his booted feet as he shuffled them, “... If you will have me.”

I nodded breathlessly. “O-of course, but-”

He didn’t let me finish my question, dropping his hand and taking the three short strides over to the door. I saw him shoot one final glance at me over his shoulder before he yanked the door back open and ducked out into the rain.

Leaving me standing more than a little bewildered in the middle of my muddy kitchen.

...

Bar’tok skittered quickly to keep up with his boss’ long stride, spitting rainwater out of his mouth.

“I-I didn’t mean to interrupt,” He stammered quickly, following Hanste’kosh out the gate to the street beyond, “And you know I absolutely wouldn’t if-”

The larger orc’s growl echoed like thunder over the pounding rhythm of the rain, and had the younger orc sputtering to a halt. He cleared his throat, nodding as he tried to adjust the cowl of his cloak to keep at least some of the rain at bay.

“Yes, right, sorry, ah… We caught Bhalt, at the border.” He explained, casting a quick glance around to make sure no one else was listening. “The boys have him tussed up nearby, but time is of the essence if we want to catch-”

Hans waved his hand, silencing his second with a grunt. He knew the costs without explanation. Still, he couldn’t ignore the itch in his neck to look over his shoulder. The burn to forget everything and simply go back to the tiny little house behind the butcher shop. He snorted, trying to shake the thoughts from his head as he made his way over to his mount tethered by the village gate under a particularly large old oak.

“I already sent word ahead,” Bar’tok called to him through the rain, ducking under the branches to follow him beneath the tree. His own hog was snuffling through the underbrush a few feet away. “I know you wanted to have first crack at him.”

The big orc paused, his hands already buried in this mount’s tough mane. He chewed at the inside of his cheek, thinking over everything for a moment. Then, with a snarl, he bounded onto the beast’s back. First he had to take care of this. Then he would be back.

...

UPDATE:  Part five HERE

[anna-justice]

Lost or Found - 17

Summary: As Jay, Hailey, Kim, Adam and Kevin start their junior year in the wake of a tragic summer, the past year of their lives comes back to haunt them. If you enjoyed Pretty Little Liars, this is for you! *UPSTEAD/BURZEK High School AU

...

17 - Dancing On My Own ...

Jay stood on Hank Voight’s porch waiting anxiously. He only had an hour before he had to pick up Hailey and meet everyone to take pictures, but when Hank called him and asked him to come over he figured it must be important. 

The front door swung open, revealing a man that he hadn’t seen in a long time. It was hard for Jay, he had always been close to Hank and without Erin it felt strange to be a part of each other’s lives. Especially since he had been MIA since Erin’s body was found. 

“Jay.” He said, giving him a once over. Obviously surprised by the nice suit and dress shoes. “Come in.” Jay nodded and stepped past the older man into the house, taking in it’s familiarity. He hadn’t been in the house since the night Erin went missing and almost like someone hit rewind on a tape player, all the memories came rushing back. 

It was easy to put Erin out of his mind for the most part, he was barely reminded of her anymore. As terrible as it sounds, everyone had moved on. The pain of missing her didn’t hurt as much anymore. However, being there was bringing back the pit in his stomach. It was a different feeling though, as he walked into the kitchen, it was guilt not sadness. His heart didn’t ache for his lost love anymore, if he was honest with himself it hadn’t for a long time. 

“It’s good to see you.” Jay said, leaning against the counter. 

Hank nodded, “You too.” He said, turning to grab an envelope from above the fridge. “So, what are you dressed up for?” Hank asked, chuckling as he rounded Jay to stand opposite him. 

“Oh, Homecoming is tonight.” Jay said, glancing down at his yellow tie. It was the only clue about her dress that Hailey would give him. 

“You have a date?” Hank asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Jay swallowed hard, he wasn’t sure any teenage boy in the history of the world had been in this position before and he was not happy to be the first: Telling your dead girlfriend's dad that you are going out with (one of) her best friends. “Hailey.” He choked out, watching for the fury to cross Hank’s face. It never came.

“She seems like a good kid.” Was all he said before grabbing the manilla folder once again. Internally Hank was showing a different emotion. Even though he expected Jay to move on, and he hoped he would, he wasn’t expecting it so soon or for it to be the blonde that he had met a few times. 

“Yeah.” Jay said, you could cut the tension in the room like a knife. “Anyway, why did you call me?”

“Right.” Hank said, taking a breath and looking the young man in the eye. “This is going to sound a little crazy, but I need you to work with me…” Jay nodded cautiously. 

“Okay?”

Hank pulled a stack of papers out of the folder, “Jay. I think Erin is alive.”

…

By the time that Jay knocked on Hailey’s door , he had still not recovered from Hank’s news. It was crazy, it couldn’t be true.  They had all seen her body, they had all been to her funeral. Twice. His mind was racing as fast as his heart.

Hank had bank statements, photos of girls that could be Erin, even an eye witness, but Jay still couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t let himself, all it was, was a desperate father trying to deal with his daughters death. And that was exactly what he was going to say to Hailey, but when the door opened he was sure his brain had stopped working. 

Hailey looked absolutely breathtaking and that was exactly what she did, she took his breath away. But not the “subtle gasp” kind of breathtaking, it was the “knocked on your back, can’t move or even see, don’t even know you’re alive” kind of breathtaking. He was stunned, he couldn’t look away. Her blonde hair was falling over her shoulders in soft curls, contradicting her normal messy waves, the top pinned back. Her yellow dress was almost shiny and hugged her waist perfectly, then flaring out. Most importantly, she was wearing a soft smile as she stared back at him and Jay was convinced for a moment that she was an angel. 

“Hey.” She said, a blush gracing her cheeks.

Jay sighed, finally able to breathe again. “Hey.” He chuckled nervously, looking down and noticing her nude heels, something he thought he would never see Hailey wear. He smirked, nodding at her feet. “Can you ever walk in those?”

Hailey glared at him, “For your information, I can.” She said, confidently (and gracefully he might add) walking towards him. She stopped so close to him that their chests were almost touching. “And now I’m almost as tall as you.” She said, grinning up at him.

Jay laughed, knowing for sure that still had at least four inches on her. He smiled down at her. “In your dreams.”

They stayed like that for a moment, smiling at each other, completely unaware that anyone else around them existed, until they were reminded. “Well Jay, don’t you look handsome.” Trudy said from the doorway and Hailey jumped away from him, spinning around to face her aunt, who snapped a quick photo. Hailey felt her cheeks heat up yet again as she watched Jay nod a “thank you.” 

“Let me grab my clutch and then we can go.” She said.

Jay nodded, “I’ll be here.” 

Hailey rushed inside and to the kitchen where she had left it on the counter. She took a moment to take a quick breather. Her aunt was right, Jay looked handsome. Very handsome. In fact, Hailey was convinced that her heart literally skipped a beat when she saw him. Thank God for the pacemaker.

She grabbed her flower print bag and rushed back to the door, “Ready.” She said and bid her aunt goodbye. Keeping up with Jay was harder than normal with her added height as they headed for the truck, however, it was a little easier to get in the massive thing. 

Hailey couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but in the midst of everything being exactly the same as always, something felt different. Jay was smiling a little bigger and she swore she caught him sneak a glance at her before they pulled out of her driveway. At this point her brain was just a big pile of Jay Halstead related mush.

“Can you put the arboretum or wherever we are going into waze?” Jay asked, chuckling as Hailey laughed and nodded. In the perfectness that was the last ten minutes, Jay had completely forgotten about Erin and her possible resurrection. He almost said something, but after one glance at Hailey and how happy she looked, he couldn’t do it. He could give her this night, he could give all of them this night. He was sure that whatever problem existed now would still exist tomorrow, and at the moment, he wished tomorrow would never come. 

…

Kevin stood in his living room in front of their decorative mirror, fixing his tie for the hundredth time and attempting to forget that he was flying solo. Something that he had become very used to over the past few months. However, even though he was feeling extremely alone romantically, he was still married to football.

Thankfully his terrible performance in the second half of the first game of the season was terrible, he managed to recover well. He was an absolute beast on the field and he proved that time and time again. The forced point shaving had turned out to be a blessing in disguise. It had lit a fire under his ass burning hotter everyday. 

He was headed for the door when his mother intercepted him, claiming to want just a few more pictures. “Ma, I’m gonna be late.” He said, brushing down his suit jacket. 

“You’ll be fine.” She said, capturing her son's aggravated expression with a glare on her face. “Smile.” Kevin obeyed, flashing a bright smile for the camera. 

Kevin was attempting to leave again when Vinessa came running toward him. “Kevy!” She yelled as he scooped her up into his arms.

“What’s up little girl?” He asked, tickling her gently.

Vinessa laughed loudly, “Kevy, I haff to tell you a secet.” She said, not quite hitting all the right sounds. Kevin stuck his ear out to her as to say “continue.” His little sister leaned him and whispered in his ear, “Your fiend Erin told me to tell you dat she will see you soon.” She said and giggled. 

Kevin looked at her in shock. Whoever was talking to Vinessa was pretending to be Erin and now they were sending threats through her! He was terrified and mad as hell all at the same time. Looks like school dances would have to wait, he had to get to the bottom of this. 

…

Kim hung up the phone and frowned at her friends. “That was Kev, he can’t make it. He said it was a family emergency and to not worry.” She said sadly, leaning into Adam’s side. 

“What? No.” Hailey said, looking at Jay. “I hope everything is okay, with Vinessa and Jordan.”

Jay placed a comforting hand on her exposed back, trying not to notice how smooth the skin was. “I’m sure they are fine. He would tell us if there was something wrong.” 

Hailey nodded as Kim smiled big. “Well, we can still have a good time without Kevin, just not as good of a time.” She trailed off.

“Yeah, who is going to line dance with me now?” Adam asked, acting distraught. He cocked an eyebrow at Jay, who held his hands up.

“Don’t look at me man.” They all laughed before turning to Kim’s mom who had offered to help out with photos, along with Sylvie’s. She and Matt had tagged along with their group. 

Thirty fun (and painful) minutes later, Hailey stood posed with just Jay as Kim took their picture. His arm was around her waist and hers was on his back. She smiled brightly before shrieking as Jay tased her. She heard the camera click as she fell into him, no doubt looking like a crazy person. Hailey hated being tickled. 

“Hey!” She yelled when she finally got her balance. 

Jay shrugged, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” He reached out or her hand, catching her off guard again. He spun her around, Hailey laughing as Jay watched her. She was too gorgeous for her own good.

“That was so cute!” Kim called from behind the camera. Hailey blushed, feeling reality set in again. Her and Jay always seemed to get interrupted, not that there was anything really to interrupt. Jay laughed behind her, distracting her once again. He had gotten really good at doing that, it was a miracle she had an A in criminal justice. 

Jay watched Hailey walk towards Kim. Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked over and found Matt standing beside him. “Tell her.” He said and Jay looked at him in shock. Matt chuckled, “Trust me man, just tell her.” Jay looked at Hailey as Matt headed for his date. To him, she was the only girl in the room and he wanted to tell her just that, but how could he risk it when he had so much to lose?

…

Hailey was sweaty, her curls were already gone and at this point she couldn’t even feel her toes. It had only been an hour and it had already been an eventful night, complete with Adam pouring his drink down the front of Kim’s dress and Kim changing in entirety. Going as far as to change her hairstyle to “better match the new dress's neckline.” It had been a whirlwind. 

Hailey had barely caught her breath at one of the standing tables before Jay approached. They hadn’t spent as much time together as she would have hoped, it was loud and they had a lot of friends, not to mention all the girls that wanted Jay all to themselves.

The music changed suddenly and soon the dance floor was only filled by swaying couples. Jay held out his hand, “Dance with me?” He asked.

“Jay-”

“One slow dance, Hailes.” That was it, she was done. She was literally melting in his hands. “Just one.” 

Hailey nodded sheepishly, letting her hand slip effortlessly in his. He led her to the floor, pulling her close. Hailey sucked in a breath, she wasn’t prepared to be this close. 

“Did I step on your foot?” Jay asked, panicking slightly as she tensed in his arms.

Hailey shook her head, “No, you’re perfect.” Jay cocked an eyebrow at her words, he almost thought that he had imagined it. Hailey’s eyes went wide, “Uh, I mean, you’re a good dancer.”

Jay didn’t say anything in response, he just let his hands fall to her waist, pulling her a little closer. Hailey finally relaxed, wrapping her arms around his neck. She let her cheek rest against his chest, just focusing on him.

As much as Jay loved the feeling on Hailey’s head on his chest, he wished she would move it. He was sure that she could feel his heart thumping, and at this rate he wasn’t sure it was going to slow down. 

They swayed gently to the words of Journey’s “Faithfully.” Hailey let her mind wander, she wasn’t exactly sure how she ended up there, dancing (literally) around her feelings. This wasn’t her.

Maybe it was the song or the way that he was holding her, but Hailey's feelings became overwhelming. She couldn’t think of anything but him, she wasn’t aware of the crowd around her. It was just them. She lifted her head off his chest and looked at him for a moment. His green eyes searched her blue ones, never breaking contact. Hailey lifted one hand to cup his cheek and let her gaze fall to his lips before meeting his eyes again. She stood on her toes, reaching up and connecting her lips to his.

Jay held her close to him, kissing her back immediately. He couldn’t believe that this was happening again. Hailey arched her back, pulling him with her. Finally the two had to come up for air and they reluctantly pulled away. Jay smiled brightly, bringing his hand to cup Hailey’s face. He was about to lean again and show everyone in the room that she was finally his, but something in the distance caught his attention. Someone in the distance.

It was only a brief moment, a glimpse of a familiar face, a red dress popping out in the crowd. “Jay?” Hailey asked.

“I-I’ll be right back.” He said, taking off in the direction of the figure, leaving Hailey alone in the middle of the dance floor. 

…

A/N: Sorry for the long wait and don’t worry, the dance is far from over! ALSO, I actually remembered my tag list haha

@lissethsrojas @fuckyeahkillianemma @puckluck28 @chilly7188 @thebigapocalypsewolf @karihighman @upsteadheart @ruzek-halstead