#this is so funny shes sitting at the kitchen island and every inch is covered in apple pie

[pjsk-headcanons]

Honami stress bakes, once leoni went to her house to study for the finals and practice for a show all within the next week and they found Honami sobbing from stress in the middle of 10 apple pies

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[sunfleurry]

II. Soie et Satin

Part 1

Thank you for the lovely feedback on part 1 of modern prince!Harry <33

NOTE: I decided to give my MC a name (which I also edited into part 1). I hope you enjoy Rose and Harry’s story!!!! this part is not edited oops

***

Harry was on TV and he looked like a star. Rose watched him from the comfort of her living room while she sipped her morning coffee.

It was a live broadcast showing his arrival to the event with his family including the queen, his mother. She was an intimidatingly beautiful woman who gained the respect of the entire country, if not the entire world throughout her life. She was known to be strict on tradition, but she’d done so much for the country when it came to helping the less fortunate, advocating for global health, and supporting free education for everyone.

Now that she was older and had quite a few children, she passed on some of her duties to them. They, including Harry, followed in her footsteps, looking out for the population by supporting the same causes their mother dedicated her life to as a young woman. Their role was to represent the queen, and they did so flawlessly.

Rose didn’t want to admit that she’d googled Harry the day he sent flowers to her office, but she did, and she was reminded of the fact that Harry was heir to the throne. She never cared much for learning about the royal family and this was something everyone knew, but reading it after meeting him was like a big wake-up call. She’d danced with a man who would one day become king. She tried not to let herself think about it too much, or else she knew her thoughts would spiral out of control.

Harry and his brother wore a simple black suit, a change from his usual style, and his mother and sisters were donned in modest dresses she knew were designer and likely cost the same as her home.

Men with flashing cameras were going crazy behind the gates, desperately trying to get the perfect shot of the country’s “perfect” family.

Upon seeing the paparazzi, Rose was instantly reminded of how lucky she and Harry were to not have been caught by anyone when they went out. She quickly picked up her phone and googled Harry’s name and filtered the results to hours before the charity event just to be sure. She sighed in relief when there were no photos or stories of the both of them.

She relaxed into her sofa and fixed her eyes on the television, watching the rest of the event, subconsciously smiling every time Harry’s handsome face popped up on the screen.

***

Three days later at work, Rose received a text from Harry. What are you doing tonight?

She quickly replied, I have a date with a really hot guy I met a while back.

She barely put her phone down before it pinged with another message. What? Who is he? Tell him you’re busy.

She grinned. I don’t know. He’s kind of cute. Did I mention he’s a prince?

Her phone vibrated with a call, Harry’s name in block letters at the top of the screen. She accepted the call and brought it up to her ear. “Hello?”

“You’re not funny.”

She barked out a laugh, then winced and apologized to her coworkers whose desks were adjacent to hers. “I think I am.”

She heard him huff through the line then say, “Can I pick you up at seven?”

“Where do you want to take me?” She asked, tamping down her giddiness. It had only been less than a week since she’d last seen him, but she missed him.

“I thought we could take a walk on the beach, maybe have some ice cream?”

“How romantic of you,” she teased.

She could almost see his eyes rolling. “Are you in? I haven’t been able to go out in public since that morning charity.”

“Why not?”

He sighed. “Normally after making such a public appearance, we’re encouraged to stay low-key for a couple days. Something about the media being on high alert.”

Suddenly remembering the thoughts she had the morning she watched him on TV, she instantly knew what he meant. Rose worried her lip between her teeth as she tried to form the words to articulate the worry that had been building up since that day.

“Harry, will there be people following us?” She closed her eyes, hoping she didn’t sound stupid.

The other end of the line was quiet for a moment before he finally spoke up. “You know what, change of plans. Wear something comfortable.”

“Oh,” she ran a hand through her hair and sat back in her chair. “Okay.”

“I can’t wait to see you, Rose.”

She smiled. “You too,” she whispered.

***

Harry said to wear something comfortable, so she slipped on the most comfortable outfit she owned: A pair of joggers and matching crewneck. He’d only ever seen her dressed up, she figured she would let herself look more casual for once. Her doorbell rang just as she was slipping on a pair of Nikes. Reaching over, she opened the door to reveal a nervous-looking Harry standing with his car key in hand.

“Hi,” he said, a smile breaking onto his face at the sight of her then pulling her in for a hug.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, breathing in the cologne she absolutely loved.

“You look lovely,” he said as he pulled back to take a look at her.

She couldn’t resist kissing his cheek. “Please, I’m wearing glorified pyjamas.”

He looked down at his own pair of joggers and t-shirt. “I’d say you understood the assignment.”

She laughed as she followed him to his flashy car. It wasn’t the same one he picked her up in on their previous date, but just as nice.

Less than a half hour later, Harry had driven them to the middle of the city and into an underground parking garage of a large high-rise building. One of the tallest she’d ever seen in person. It had a modern design, the surface covered in mirrored windows. He drove through the garage until the car reached a closed door. He inched the car closer until the sensor detected it and opened the door, allowing the car to enter a smaller parking area containing two other cars, one of them Rose recognized as the one she’d been in on their last date.

“Do you live here?” She asked, taken aback.

“Yes,” he smiled nervously. “This is my private parking.”

“I can see that,” she frowned. “I thought you lived with your family, at the palace.”

“You and everyone else in the world,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You don’t?”

He unbuckled his seat belt, and pocketed his key before turning towards her. “I come from a not so traditional family, but I need my own space despite the responsibilities that are expected of me. I’m a man in my twenties who values his privacy so I moved out when I was nineteen. Under a fake name.” 

She was shocked by the revelation, even more by the fact that he was trusting her with his information. 

“Nobody knows you live here?”

“I mean, the other residents do, but they’re under contract.”

“And your family?”

“Of course they know where I live,” he chuckled. “They just don’t come here. They don’t want to risk being seen here because they respect my space, they want to make sure I have all the privacy I can get away from the public eye, because, well, one day I won’t have that luxury.”

Rose deflated at the reminder of what his future entailed. “Do you ever think about it? Being heir and all?”

Harry looked down at his lap, picking an invisible thread on his pants. “Let’s go inside,” he said at last. 

Taking the hint, Rose smiled and opened her door, Harry doing the same. He scanned a card inside the elevator and keyed in a code on the keypad. The lift immediately started rising, only halting when it reached the final floor of the building. 

Nothing could have prepared Rose for the extravagance that would welcome her as soon as the doors opened. An entire wall was made up of giant windows, overlooking the bustling city underneath. They were so high up, she couldn't hear any of it. Instead, the height provided a peaceful silence in an otherwise busy area. The flooring was marble, the luxury kind one would only see on TV, and the place was spotless. 

Harry’s warm hand on the small of her back urged her to walk inside, the elevator doors closing behind them. She took in the open concept penthouse, a staircase in the corner of the grand living room leading to what she assumed was his private corner, the bedroom and bath.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. 

Harry laughed behind her, before grabbing her hand and leading her to the kitchen she knew even Gordon Ramsay would drool over. “Would you like something to drink?”

Snapping herself out of her dumfounded state, she looked at him. “What?”

He suppressed a smile and repeated, “Would you like something to drink?”

“Oh! Um, yes please,” she said, wringing her fingers together.

“Relax, Rose.”

“How could I?” She asked, eyes wide. “I feel like I’ll break something just by looking at it!”

“That’s fine, love. I want you to be comfortable.”

“But this place—”

“Is my home,” he interrupted, stepping closer and gently grabbing her shoulders. “And I made the choice to trust you with my secret, so please, make yourself comfortable.”

Her eyes softened. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.”He leaned forward to capture her lips with his, and she melted into him without hesitation. She’d been wanting to do this since their first kiss and the wait was definitely worth it. 

He pulled back with a grin, leaving her breathless. “So, drink?”

She nodded, exhaling as an attempt to calm her beating heart. 

“I also made us dinner, I just need to put it in the oven.”

The statement made her heart swell, a feeling of fondness for the man in front of her taking over. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he smiled, as he pushed a few buttons on the oven until a yellow light started flashing and the desired temperature was displayed. “Can’t bring you here and not feed you.”

She chuckled and pulled out a stool tucked into the island to sit on. “No you can’t.”

***

The food would take an hour, so the two decided to go to his living room to wait. They were cuddled up on his couch, watching a movie she’d chosen and that he’d seen a dozen times. Rose didn’t know that though.

“Do you ever worry people will recognize you?” She asked, out of the blue. “When we went out together, you seemed unfazed by the looks some were giving you.”

He shrugged. “I get used to it, really. Besides, Fen is always around in case something happens.”

She pushed off the couch to look at him. “Fen?”

“My security detail,” he nodded. “He’s always around when I’m out and about.”

“But, I didn’t see him the other night. Or the first time we went out together.”

He grinned. “That means he’s doing his job.”

She frowned as she slowly tucked herself back into his side. His arm automatically wrapped around her. “So, we were being followed all night?”

“It’s for safety purposes, Rose. Plus, I would never intentionally put you in danger.”

“What could possibly be so dangerous?”

Harry ducked to press a kiss to her head, breathing in the shampoo scent that coated her red strands. “Anything could be dangerous, even the paparazzi.”

The thought of being followed by paparazzi sent shivers down her spine. She’d seen videos of celebrities being hounded by them and felt sorry for the public figures who had to live with that.

“What if they see us together. Would they publish photos? Are you scared of what they may think?”

“Are you ashamed of me, Rose?”

She craned her neck to kiss him softly. “I would never be ashamed of you, Your Highness.”

“I knew it!” He cried, dramatically pushing her away. “You’re just using me for my title!”

“How did you know?” She gasped, trying to hold in a smile.

“I’ve always felt something was off with you,” he tutted, leaning his back on the arm rest and pulling her on top of him.

She giggled, raising her hand to run her fingers through his hair before smoothing it down. “Why is that?” She whispered.

“There’s no way someone as beautiful as you would give me the time of day,” he murmured, brushing his lips on the corner of her mouth.

She pulled him in to give her a proper kiss, their legs tangling as he switched positions until he was hovering on top of her, forearms caging her head against the sofa. 

“If anything, you’re out of my league, Prince.”

The words didn’t sit right with him. He pulled back. “Don’t ever say that,” he frowned.

“It’s true—“

He kissed her again. “Who I am... What I come from... Means nothing between you and me.”

She stared at him intently, the conversation taking an unexpected turn.

“Do you hear me?” He murmured, brushing his lips along her cheek.

She nodded.

He sighed. “Good.”

Rose gasped when Harry’s mouth was suddenly on hers, instantly brushing her tongue against his in what could be the best kiss she’d ever had. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him down to feel his comforting weight on top of her. The kiss morphed into something wetter as his hands trailed along her side and dipped under her shirt. She shivered from the contact, bending her knees to cage his body between her legs. Harry brushed his lips against her jaw before slowly making his way down her throat to the fabric of her top covering her chest. His hands inched along her skin to her back where he applied pressure, making her arch, chest pressing against his own.

“Harry,” she breathed as he pressed open mouthed kisses up her throat, leaving a wet trail.

He hummed in response before coming back up to connect their lips. She sighed into his mouth, arms wrapping around his neck as his hands trailed back to caress her sides. “Can I take this off?” He breathed, fingering the hem of her shirt.

She nodded against his neck, where she tongued at his skin, savouring the feeling of just being so close to him. He pulled her shirt up but before he could take it off completely, his phone rang, the shrill ringtone breaking through their bubble.

Harry scrambled to get off the couch, recognizing the ringtone, while Rose fought to catch her breath, mourning the feeling of his weight on her.

Harry excused himself and left the room to speak to whoever it was while Rose readjusted her top and sat up. She decided to braid her hair while waiting for him to finish.

Just as she was tying up her hair, she heard his footsteps before he appeared with a grim look on his face. He tossed his phone on the coffee table.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” he smiled but she didn’t buy it.

She tucked her legs under her and extended a hand towards him.

Harry accepted it and she tugged him over to sit next to her. He complied and slumped back, neck resting on the back of the couch.

“It’s just PR stuff. You don’t need to worry about it,” he said, eyes never leaving the ceiling.

She felt her heart sink to her stomach. “What kind of PR stuff?”

Before he could answer, she jumped at a sudden beeping coming from the kitchen.

He chuckled half-heartedly as she held a hand up to her chest. “It’s just the oven, love. Come on, food’s ready.”

“But what about—“

He kissed her. “I’m hungry.”

She pouted but decided to drop it, not wanting the mood to be ruined.

***

Rose placed her fork on her empty plate and got up to make her way to the sink. “How did you learn to cook like that?” She turned on the water and waited for it to turn hot before rinsing her plate. She reached for the sponge and squirted soap on it, intending to wash all the dishes.

Harry walked up behind her and slid a hand around her waist, splaying his hand on her stomach and pulling her back against him. “My mother,” he said before reaching over and turning off the water.

“Hey!” She went to turn it back on but he wrapped a hand around the tap, preventing her from moving it. “Harry…” She warned.

“Rose…”

She turned around and crossed her arms, ignoring the way her body reacted to his proximity. 

He laughed, and pried the wet sponge out of her hand, then pushed her out of the way to rinse it and put it back in place. 

Rose scowled. “Let me do this for you.”

“No, I have a dishwasher that could do that for me. I want to spend time with you, not watch you wash my shit.”

“You do so much for me, Harry. Let me wash your shit.”

“I can wash my own shit.”

“Okay, this is getting gross.”

Harry giggled and kissed her cheek before walking over to his fridge. She took the time to wash her hands and dry them before turning around to ask if he needed help with whatever it was he was doing.

She was met with the sight of him standing next to the kitchen island, a delicious-looking chocolate cake on it with two small forks. 

Harry chuckled at the way her eyes lit up, knowing her love for chocolate was the way to her heart. 

“I was too shy to ask if you had something sweet to follow up with dinner,” she admitted sheepishly, biting her bottom lip as she sat on the stool while he did the same across from her.

His smile widened, handing her a fork. “I would never forget.”

She blushed and followed his lead by taking the first bite of the cake. “Oh my God,” she moaned. “Is this André’s?”

Harry looked at her, horrified. “Don’t ever say another man’s name after moaning like that.”

She snorted, taking another bite of the delicious cake. 

“Yes,” Harry said finally, expression morphing into one of amusement as he watched her devour her half of the dessert. “He did make it. Something about giving the lovely lady a real treat.”

Rose laughed at the way he mocked André’s accent, and pushed the plate towards him to finish the cake. “I can’t take another bite,” she groaned. 

***

Rose awoke to the sound of faint chattering. She didn’t remember when she fell asleep but once she was aware enough to take in her surroundings, she realized she was still in Harry’s penthouse, curled up on his couch under a warm blanket. A warm feeling engulfed her when she realized Harry had tucked her in.

“Fuck you, I can do whatever I want.”

She frowned, knuckling her eye to try and wake herself up as she heard Harry start pacing, wherever he was.

“I know, I know, she’s been telling me the same thing all week.”

“Harry?” She called out. He didn’t hear her.

“If I hear you call her that one more time, you’re fired.”

“Harry,” she called again, louder. His pacing stopped and a second later, he appeared from around the corner, phone up to his ear.

“Rose,” he sighed, then scowled at whatever the person on the other end said. “Yes, now don’t call me back.” He locked his phone and gave her his attention once again. “Sorry about that.”

She smiled sleepily and reached over to caress his face. He breathed out and knelt on the ground to come face to face with her. Her fingers wound in the short hairs at the nape of his neck and he exhaled, dropping his forehead to her collarbone. “Sometimes I hate being me.”

“Want to talk about it?”

He shook his head and a laugh bubbled out of her, unwillingly. He snapped his head up. “What’s so funny?”

“Tickled me,” she mumbled.

He snorted then got up, asking her to move over before laying down next to her and pulling her to his side. 

“You seemed angry,” she said gently.

She could feel him tense under her. “My mother was just pissed at me, had my publicist relay a message.”

“Did you do anything?”

Harry looked into her warm brown eyes, his own glinting with mischief. “When am I not?”

Rose giggled and laid her head on his shoulder. She could feel herself being pulled back into unconsciousness, and as much as she tried to fight it, she couldn't. She wanted to stay awake for him, to comfort him further but exhaustion suddenly washed over her. Before being completely lost to the world, she could’ve sworn she heard him murmur, “I won’t let anything come between us.”

***

THANK YOU FOR READING <3333 lmk if you’d like to be tagged !!! 

Tag list: @mellamolayla​

[hotpinkhoshi]

the pact | distraction

pairing: jinyoung x reader (the pact universe)

word count: 2.5k lol what this was supposed to be a drabble

summary: while your toddler naps, jinyoung finds a way to make the most of your time alone together. 

warnings: sex, domestic af, jinyoung is a great dad and is 110% whipped for his kid and his wife!! this is also NOT edited in the slightest

“She can’t hear us,” Jinyoung said, his nose nudging your earlobe and making you shiver. 

You sighed as your hands traveled along Jinyoung’s back, head battling vagina over the probability of your eighteen month old daughter hearing you and waking from her nap. The baby monitor sitting on the kitchen island was practically taunting you, reminding you that Seohyun could begin crying at any moment.

“But what if she-” 

Any words you could have used to finish that sentence were immediately erased from your brain as Jinyoung pulled you to the edge of the counter, his bulge pressing into your core. 

Your sex life had gone down drastically in frequency just like everybody had warned you, but it didn’t make you want him any less. It was just near impossible to find the time between work, Seohyun, and keeping up with the never-ending errands of life. 

By the time the two of you made it to bed most nights, neither of you had the energy.

But today, Seohyun had gone down for her afternoon nap easier than normal. And it was Saturday, so neither of you had to work. It only made sense that the moment you’d turned around to tackle the dishes in the sink, Jinyoung had pulled his best moves on you. 

He’d wrapped one arm around your waist and pulled you back against him, sliding your hair off your shoulder with his free hand where he placed soft but purposeful kisses along your skin. Immediately, you’d shivered and become putty in his hands. 

“You look so sexy in this dress, baby,” he whispered, his nose brushing against the most sensitive part of your neck. “All morning I’ve been staring at your legs, I’m surprised you didn’t notice.”

You hadn’t meant to look sexy—it was just that one piece of fabric was easier to throw on than attempting to find two clean, unwrinkled items of clothing to put on. And it wasn’t a seductive, curve-hugging dress anyway, just your most comfortable, trusty black spaghetti strap dress. 

Then you’d found yourself turned around and lifted onto the counter, dishes in the sink long forgotten as your husband sucked a hickey into your skin. In your head, you did some quick math to figure out just how long you’d have until Seohyun woke up and brought you back to reality. 

“Stop thinking,” Jinyoung told you with a press of his lips into your jawline. 

You sighed and rested your hands on his shoulders. “I’m trying.” 

“I’ll just have to work harder to distract you then, hm?” Jinyoung whispered as his hands trailed a path up and down your thighs, his fingers slipping further up the hem of your dress with each stroke upwards.

Jinyoung was dangerous when he knew what he wanted. 

He pulled your body even closer to the edge of the counter, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist. Stealing your lips in a kiss, you both moaned as soon as Jinyoung began rocking his hips into yours teasingly.

One of your hands slipped into Jinyoung’s hair, gripping the soft strands still damp from his earlier shower he’d been forced to take after breakfast.

Seohyun hadn’t been a fan of the organic cereal Jinyoung had tried to give her, and he’d ended up with a half-chewed mouthful of her breakfast all over his face and shirt. Even though it’d been an accident and shouldn’t have been funny, you’d had to turn away and cover your mouth to keep from giggling. 

As always, Jinyoung had taken it in stride and simply wiped his face and shirt off before grabbing one of the probiotic yogurts that Seohyun did like from the fridge. Not without sending you a fake glare when he noticed your red face from holding in your laughter. 

When you started giggling again now at the memory, just as Jinyoung began peppering kisses across your collarbone, he tilted his head up to make eye contact with you.

“What’s so funny?” 

You bit your lip, sliding your fingers through his hair and twirling a strand around your finger. 

“Just thinking about this morning when our daughter projectile coughed your nasty healthy cereal into your face,” you told him. 

Jinyoung’s eyes narrowed at you as he pulled back, standing straight in front of you again. “Projectile coughing isn’t a thing.” 

You snorted. “Tell that to Seohyun. God, you should’ve seen your expression. I wish I’d had my phone to record the whole thing.” 

“You drive me nuts,” he told you, chuckling softly as his hands traveled further up your dress until he’d found the elastic of your underwear. “Just trying to be a good dad. Give our kid some nutrients to balance out the jellies and Goldfish that you sneak her when you think I’m not looking.” 

You lifted your hips as Jinyoung tugged your panties down your legs and off, smiling down at him when he dropped to his knees in front of you. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” 

“Liar,” he said with a laugh as he ducked his head down, placing a kiss to the inside of your leg, just above your knee. 

No matter how many times Jinyoung spoiled you like this, it would always make you sigh and shiver just the same. He was now an expert in the art of teasing and building up your pleasure until finally giving you what you both craved most. 

“But you love me,” you told him, tilting your head back to rest against the cabinet behind you as your eyes fell shut. 

Jinyoung hummed against your skin as he traveled further up your legs, kissing nearly every inch of your skin until he’d finally reached the apex of your thighs. 

“Mmhm, I do,” he said, just before leaning in to place a gentle kiss to your mound. Then lower, until his lips brushed your clit and made you jerk your hips up, desperate to feel more. 

Luckily, Jinyoung at least seemed to understand you had a time limit. Seohyun was a good sleeper but she was known for waking up from her naps refreshed after only forty-five minutes or less. It was the or less that you were concerned about. 

As soon as Jinyoung sucked your clit between his lips, you found yourself arching towards him, one hand grasping the counter edge while the other found purchase in the hair at the top of his head. 

“Oh, oh,” you whined, while Jinyoung delved deeper and lower, now working what you could only call magic between your legs. When he slipped two fingers inside to join his tongue on your clit, your toes curled and you had to slap a hand over your mouth to contain your moan. 

Honestly, you could barely register what exactly Jinyoung was doing after another few moments, your whole body was now on fire and more sensitive than ever after not having him touch you like this in weeks. 

“Baby, I-” you started, one hand still in his hair and now pressing him closer, “I can’t... I want...” 

But Jinyoung didn’t let up or stop. He wanted your release and he wouldn’t stop until the moment his mouth and fingers took you over the edge. 

His free hand came to steady your hips, lying his forearm across your stomach to keep you from writhing too wildly on the counter, while his other hand moved faster and faster inside of you. 

“Shhh-shit, fuck, Nyoung, please God-” 

Absolute nonsense fell from your lips as you drew closer to your climax and warmth began to spread from your belly all the way through your body to your fingertips. 

Finally the tension snapped and you arched forward this time, Jinyoung’s strong arm over your hips the only thing keeping you from sliding off. You fisted his hair, probably enough to hurt, your other hand back over your mouth to muffle your screams. 

Jinyoung didn’t slow down until he knew you’d had too much. Slowly, he backed off, fingers coming to a stop inside of you before slipping out. He sat back on his knees and adjusted his grip on you so that you could gently and safely get your feet back on the ground. 

“Holy mother of-” you managed, leaning back against the counter as Jinyoung stood back up in front of you with a pleased grin on his face. “You are way too good at that.” 

Jinyoung laughed, slipping his arms around your waist in a gentle embrace, quite the contrast from the way he’d just absolutely wrecked you without even taking his pants off. 

“Hmm, I think you might be a little biased, being my wife and all.” 

“If I hadn’t seen you the first time you had to change a diaper, I might think you weren’t bad at anything,” you teased.

Jinyoung’s mouth opened to defend himself but you were quicker, slipping one hand down into the loose grey sweatpants he was wearing to wrap around his length. 

He sucked in a harsh inhale and closed his eyes, his arms wrapping tighter around you to bring you closer. You smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek before whispering into his ear. 

“Now, can we make the most of whatever time we have left until our toddler is back to demanding our undivided attention?” 

You could sense Jinyoung’s smirk as he turned his head, brushing his lips against your throat before he responded, “You don’t have to convince me.” 

Only a few moments passed before you found yourself bent over the island, your dress hiked up over your ass and Jinyoung behind you, pushing his sweatpants down just enough to free his cock. 

You pressed your cheek against the cold countertop, your eyes on Jinyoung the best they could be from this angle. Biting your lip, you watched as he gripped his length, giving it a few strokes before he was lining up with your entrance. 

Both of you exhaled the moment he slid inside, a slow movement that allowed you to feel every single inch of him as your bodies became one. You wouldn’t ever get tired of this feeling. 

You reminded yourself that you needed to be as quiet as possible, considering Seohyun seemed to superhuman hearing and it didn’t usually take much to rouse her from sleep. 

But you couldn’t help the soft whine that fell from your lips the moment Jinyoung started to rock his hips back and forth in a perfect rhythm, his hands bunching up the material of your dress at your lower back. 

“Nyoungie,” you whispered, though it was more of a plea for him to move faster or harder, or do something. He was making you insane already, your body still sensitive from the incredible orgasm he’d given you just a few minutes ago. 

At the sweet pet name, Jinyoung groaned deep in his throat, squeezing the fabric in his fists even tighter as he picked up his pace. You watched as he tilted his head back in bliss and bit his lip, probably to contain his own moans of pleasure. 

It didn’t take much time at all for Jinyoung to start pounding inside of you just the way you’d wanted, the sound of skin-on-skin now filling the room. Even though it was dangerous to make so much noise, you weren’t about to ask him to stop.

You reached one hand behind your back until you found one of his arms. Grasping it firmly, you squeezed your eyes shut and swallowed back all of the noises you so desperately wanted to make to encourage him. 

Jinyoung leaned his head forward again, bending over you slightly as he let go with his other hand, choosing instead to nestle it between your thighs and circle your clit with his fingers. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, knowing that he was planning on bringing you to another orgasm before he found his release. “Baby, I don’t think I can... oh, my god.” 

Squeezing his arm even tighter, you gasped as he moved his fingers faster to match the brutal pace of his hips. He kissed across your shoulder blade, a mixture of dirty and affectionate words falling from his lips to your skin. 

“God, I love you so much. You feel so fucking good, so wet and tight, you’re so beautiful, baby.” 

The waves of pleasure started to crest for the second time that afternoon as Jinyoung worked his fingers in tighter circles, changing the angle of his hips ever so slightly to hit a particularly sensitive spot inside of you. 

Jinyoung soon let go of your dress completely as he bent over your body, hand feeling around blindly for your free one so that he could intertwine your fingers as he pumped inside of you. 

“Let go for me angel, come on, want us to come together,” he whispered, burying his face into the crook of your neck and nipping at your skin. 

It took all of your willpower not to scream just then as soon as your orgasm hit, your knees shaking as the intense pulses of your climax threatened to make your legs give out entirely. But Jinyoung was there, his body supporting yours as he reached his own end, emptying inside of you with a gravelly moan against your neck. 

His hips slowed, giving you a few more shallow thrusts before he finally slipped out of you, though he didn’t peel his body from yours for another minute. You smiled softly to yourself as you listened to his breathing gradually return back to normal, his heartbeat racing against your skin through his white tee. 

When he finally pulled away, Jinyoung helped you to stand up once more, turning you around to face him. He chuckled as he pushed your hair from your face after it had stuck to your skin from the thin layer of sweat across your forehead. 

“I love you, you know?” Jinyoung said, leaning close to nudge his nose against yours. 

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist and tugging his sweatpants back up to his hips. “I love you too.” 

With the most perfect timing ever, there was suddenly a whimper from the speaker of the baby monitor, one that was shortly followed by a loud cry. You sighed and pressed your hands to Jinyoung’s chest, about to gently push him away so you could tend to Seohyun. 

“Hey, I got it. Go hop in the shower. Do one of your face masks too, or take a bath. I’ll hang out with little bear.” 

Your lips formed into a pout because yes, Jinyoung was a great husband, but he was an even more amazing father. And you could use some time to yourself. Especially a shower, considering you were a tad sticky after the quickie you’d just had. 

“Stop being so perfect, you’re making me look bad,” you told him, leaning in to press a few short kisses to his lips. “Love you. Thanks for the orgasms.” 

Jinyoung could only shake his head as he laughed at you, watching as you walked off towards the bathroom. He flipped off the switch to the baby monitor and headed off to Seohyun’s room, wondering just how he managed to get the two best girls in the world in his life. 

[drcalmreid]

friends - s.r. (pt. 1/2)

pairing: spencer reid x female reader

summary: pure angst - friends with benefits always ends up with one person scorn out of jealousy...and in this case, it’s spencer. especially when he sees you flirting with one of his BAU partners.

content warning: consumption of alcohol, indication of sex (no smut!), anger/trust issues, brief mention of blood

word count: 4.5k // part two

authors notes: lyrics = indicate a flashback!! ALSO this is completely inspired by the song “friends” by chase atlantic, so i recommend listening to it while you read! this part is all in spencer’s pov but the next one will be the readers pov ;)

SPENCERS POV

Sweat and tension hang heavy in the air as I sit in the bar, watching my co-workers from the booth. The condensation slides down my glass onto the table, creating a puddle around the cup. I run my fingers around in the ring of water, creating shapes on the table top.

“You know,” JJ says, taking the spot next to me in the booth. “If you’re going to come out with us, you should try to make conversation.” “I think I’m okay,” I smile at her as she nudges me with her elbow. “Really, you don’t have to babysit me. Go, have fun.”

“Alright,” JJ says standing back up. Her eyes scan over me before she turns to gaze to the dance floor. Luke, Tara, Penelope, Emily, and (y/n) all dance together, obnoxiously close to one another (some more than others). “You should tell her how you feel.” JJ comments, swirling her drink with the straw in her mouth.

“What- who? What are you talking about?”

“C’mon Spence! You really think after all this time I still can’t read you?” JJ asks and I shrug, giving her a small smile. JJ leans down to me and whispers, “just go talk to (y/n)”.

I lean back on the leather seat and crack my back, even though I know that the constant cracking of my back actually causes adverse effects...but I do it anyway. I bring my eyes up from the table and my still sweating glass of water and glance over at the dance floor. JJ just reaches the team as they welcome her into their terribly coordinated group. This is the third time the team has gone out this month and the first time I’ve been here to witness the completely obvious flirt-fest between Alvez and (y/n). How do I even compete with someone like Luke? I was captivated by (y/n) from the moment I met her, but was too scared to even process a relationship with her. My brain couldn’t stop running over every possible scenario of what could go wrong if I asked her out...even just for a simple coffee after work. I couldn’t do it, and I knew I wouldn’t. Until (y/n) took it upon herself…

Girl, tell me what you're doing on the other side?

And so, just tell me what you're doing with that other guy?

Cause I ain't got patience to slow down the bass

“You going to O’Malley’s tonight?” (Y/n) asks, peering down at me from the corner of my desk. She sits on the corner of the wooden top, her legs swinging back and forth. I turn in my desk chair and look up at her. It feels as though someone sucked all the oxygen out of the room and I’m lost in her presence. She captivates me in a way that no one has. “Reid?” She asks again, waving her hand in front of my face. She tilts her head down and smiles at me, but waits for me to answer.

“‘M sorry, I-”

“It’s okay, I just would really like it if you came. That’s all,” she grins and hops off my desk onto the floor. “No pressure.” I swivel in my chair and follow her path behind me, my words get caught in my throat before I finally call after her, “I’ll be there!”.

-

“Y’know Spence,” (y/n) drunkenly whispers in my ear, even though she’s practically yelling over the loud bar music. It was only an hour after the team had gotten to the bar, but (y/n) was drinking as if it were her last drink on earth. “I like you…” she trails off, swirling her drink with the straw. She flips her hair over her shoulder and leans down on her arm to stare into my eyes. Her eyes are glossed over from the alcohol she’s consumed and clearly her filter is completely gone for the night. I laugh at her words and lean down to her, “I like you too, you’re easy to talk to, funny, you actually listen to my rambles. You’re a great friend, (y/n).” I practically choke the words out, and thank God she’s intoxicated otherwise she would have caught my inflexion on the word “friend”.

“No, no, no-” She sits up on her stool and glances around the bar. She spots the rest of the team across the restaurant before she continues talking, “I like-like you, Spencer. I like you a lot.”

“(Y/n), do you know what you’re saying to me right now?”

“Of course I do,” she takes a gulp from her drink. “I’ve wanted to tell you for months, but now I’ve got the liquid courage.” She winks and tilts the glass in my direction. I want to believe that this is truly happening, but I can’t. I want to throw caution to the wind and be with her, but I can’t. I don’t trust myself or my past. I’m no good for her.

“I think we should switch you to water,” I say as I raise my hand to the bartender. She reaches over my chest and grabs my arm, carefully avoiding my hand, shaking her head.

“No,” she says leaning in near my face. My heart leaps into my throat and I feel my pulse quicken as she inches closer to me. “Spence, you can give me all the water you want...but what I said won’t change.”

(Y/n) hops down from her stool to meet the rest of the BAU at the large table, but turns on her heel only a few steps away, “you comin’?”

-

“Hi,” I say as (y/n) swings open her front door the next morning. Her eyes are hooded, red and puffy as she shields them from the sun. Her once perfectly curled hair is now gathered into the messiest bun, as she stands in her beat-up FBI training t-shirt and paint-covered sweatpants. “I figured you would want something greasy, so I got you a breakfast burrito, but when you realize that isn’t the hangover cure, I got you a banana and nut mix with some Powerade.” I say, raising up two separate shopping bags.

“Oh my God, my head,” (y/n) whines, shuffling away from the front door plopping herself on the couch. “I was so fucked up last night.” She mumbles as her face is squished in between couch cushions.

“Yeah,” I shut the door as quietly as I can behind me. “You were.” I chuckle, setting the bags down on her kitchen island. I grab the Powerade from the bag and walk back to her on the couch. I squat down in front of her, tilting my head back and forth waiting for her to look at me. Eventually, she turns to face me and a smile creeps across her face. She whispers a quiet “hi” and I mimic back the word, “hi”. She slowly pulls herself up from the couch and pulls her legs into a cross-legged position. I pass her the Powerade and she rolls her eyes at me before opening the bottle.

“Remind me never to drink again,” she crips. “I have no filter when I drink. I mean, I literally told JJ I like Henry better than Michael...who does that?”

“Same person who confessed their love for me last night,” I mutter and my eyes go wide, heart dropping. Did I really just say that? (Y/n) practically spits out her drink and laughs.

“You’re kidding right? Spence-” She leans forward, panic running across her features as she tries to hide it with humor. “Spencer.” She says and I look up at her, “what did I say to you, Spencer? Tell me, oh God maybe I don’t want to know,” she stands from the couch and pads off into her bedroom. I stand up from my spot on the floor and follow her. “No, tell me,” she pivots and leans against her bed.

“(Y/n), you were drunk and I should have stopped you.”

“Spencer, what the fuck did I say?” She says sternly.

All your girlfriends are wasted

They need it, they chase it

Face it. You want it, you crave it

I shake my head clear of that night and let my eyes linger on her. From my spot at the table, I can perfectly watch the team dance their hearts out. (Y/n) dances to the rhythm of the obnoxious club music, her hips moving at a steady pace. Luke stands dangerously close to her as he follows her movements. (Y/n) spins to face him, her laugh bubbling out of her as Luke smiles down at her. She stands on her toes, whispering something to him, before Alvez throws his head back laughing at her. He leans down to talk to her again and (y/n) wraps her arms around his neck, bringing him even closer. The two of them move together now, completely tangled in one another as the songs continue. Luke trails his hands down her sides before they rest just above her waist. (Y/n) lowers her arms and quickly spins in Luke’s grip, her ass now practically grinding on him. Her dress rides up her thighs, inching closer and closer to her waist. The other girls cheer on the two, but JJ looks over her shoulder at me giving an empathetic smile. An anger builds up from deep inside of me and I grip my glass harder than is probably safe. I can’t be here anymore. I stand up abruptly from the bench and work my way through the crowds, desperate for some air and to see anything other than that.

Believe when I say that you'll know once you taste it

“I don’t-,” I start, but (y/n) stands from the bed.

“Don’t give me that ‘I don’t remember’ bullshit, because you can I both know you do,” (y/n) says in a way that leans more nervous and upset than angry.

“You said, ‘I like-like you.’” I choke out, while scratching the nape of my neck.

“What else did I say?” She asks, her eyes wide with embarrassment.

“That, you wanted to tell me for months but didn’t have the courage to.” I say, staring down at the floor before I look up to see (y/n) also keeping her eyes fixed on the hardwood floor.

“You know what they say about drunken confessions.” She mumbles, pulling her hands in front of her to play with her fingers.

“It’s been proven that alcoholic drinks cause neurological and psychological regression with the higher blood alcohol levels, so more hostile and truthful responses are common...but alcohol can’t necessarily make you feel new emotions.” I ramble on and (y/n) shakes her head at me.

“Did you know that or did you look it up after I confessed last night?”

“Both,” I answer and we both release our built up stress in a heartfelt laugh.

“Yeah well,” she rubs her arms. “I didn’t lie. I really do like you Spence,” she looks up and holds my gaze. “You don’t have to say anything, or feel anything… I just- I just wanted you to know for so long, and I guess now’s the time.”

Without hesitation I lean forward, my hands cradling her face and pull her lips to mine. Our mouths melt into one another quickly and I lose myself in her. My mind races through every possibility of what this means for us, but I try my best to shut it off and just be in the present. (Y/n) giggles against my lips, pulling away for a second to look at me.

“I like you too,” I smile down at her, while pushing a loose strand from her bun behind her ear. She grins and stands on her toes, capturing my lips again before we step backward, falling onto the bed.

All of your friends have been here for too long

They must be waiting for you to move on

Girl, I'm not with it I'm way too far gone

I'm not ready, eyes heavy now

I step out of the bar into the cool March air, the night temperature chilling my lungs as I breathe in and out rapidly. I lean against the brick wall of the building, pulling at my tie feverishly trying to get it off. I yank off the tie, untying it in my hands while resting my head against the wall. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale… When I open my eyes again, I look out across the busy street as couples pass by. Each one fixated on the other and my heart pounds in my ears.

“Spence?” A voice calls from near the entrance of the bar, “are you okay? I saw you run out, I-”

“I’m fine, (y/n).” I snap at her. She stands to my side, arms crossed, her hands running up and down to keep herself warm.

“Are you sure?”

“I said I’m fine.”

Silence settles betweens us for a moment before she steps forward, inching closer to me. We stand next to one another for a moment, both of us resting against the bar wall as cars continue to zip down the street.

“Alright, well if you’re fine, then I’ll leave you,” she sighs. (Y/n) steps back, heels clicking on the pavement as she approaches the bar.

“Do you like him?” I ask, staring down at the undone tie in my hands. She raises her eyebrows and her eyes scan over my face. “Luke. Do you like Luke?”

“Excuse me?” She asks, her hand resting on the door handle to the bar.

“I mean- it seems like you do.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” She drops the handle and turns to face me again.

“Nothing, you- you just were dancing and-”

“Oh my god,” she mutters through a laugh. “You’re jealous. Spencer, seriously?”

“I’m sorry that I can’t see you with other guys, it’s not fair for me to watch that. I can’t, (y/n).”

“Well,” she steps back, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “That’s not really my problem is it? You told me to, let’s see...how did you put it?”

She looks up as if she’s trying to remember the words, “ ‘Get over my feelings because we’re not together’? I believe that’s what you said.” She coolly states, quoting my words from days before. I stand against the wall stunned as I blink away tears.

“(y/n), I-”

“Spencer, please just don’t say anything else. You’ve said enough,” she grabs the door handle again and swings the heavy bar door open. She props it open with her foot and glances back at me, “just so we’re clear. None of this is fair, and I can dance with whoever I want.”

Heart on your sleeve like you've never been loved

Running in circles, now look what you've done

My cool fingertips run up and down her bare back, moving along her spine. Occasionally I trace shapes and words onto her skin as she lays against me. The hours pass as we stay in her bed, the world continuing on without us as we lay tangled together.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” I glance down at her. Her eyes flutter open as she looks up at me, keeping her head on my chest.

“Yeah? I bet I’ve wanted to longer,” she giggles, sitting up resting her weight on her elbow.

“Mmm,” I humm and pull her face to mine. Pecking her lips once, “I don’t think so.”

“No? Then why didn’t you say anything?” (Y/n) tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and rests her chin on my chest. Her big, bright eyes piercing into mine.

“I was scared,” I say truthfully and I feel as though a weight is lifted off of me. She tilts her head to one side as she waits for me to keep talking, “I don’t have the best relationship history. Actually, I don’t even have a history.” I take a deep breath and (y/n) smiles, tracing small hearts onto my chest with her index finger. “I- I just don’t know how to do this, (y/n). I don’t even know if I can…” I confess, but (y/n) doesn’t take her eyes off of me. She sits up slowly, the sheets of her bed gathered around her bare chest.

“Spence, I don’t know how to do this either,” she giggles. “But, I’m willing to try to figure it out with you...as long as you are.”

“Let me ask you this,” I say sitting up slightly, leaning against her bed frame.

“Oo yes, my favorite Dr. Reid phrase,” she says laying down under my arm. “Sorry, continue.”

“Do you think we could keep this between us? I’m just not ready for all of the pressure and conversations between the team.” She reaches up as I speak and twists one of my curls between her thumb and index finger.

“Of course,” she smiles and our lips meet each other again.

Give you my word as you take it and run

Wish you'd let me stay, I'm ready now

I close my eyes harshly and rub the back of my eyes with my knuckles, so hard that I see stars and swirls among the darkness. “Shit,” I shout, tossing the tie to the concrete, not caring where it lands. I swing my arms around, smashing my fist into the brick wall. “Fuck!” I whip my hands away from the wall, shaking my hand off. My knuckles are open, bloody, and throbbing. I fling myself off the wall again, headed back into the bar. My head is spinning and cloudy, but all I know is I have to get to (y/n). I have to apologize to her and tell her the truth. I need her to listen, I need her to understand, hell...I just need her. I pull open the wooden door and blasting music hits me like a wall. I shake my head at the change in volume and push through the crowds. I make a bee-line for the BAU’s table in search of any one of my team members. Penelope spots me first as she skips over in her brightly colored heels. “Reid, oh Reid! My personal genius! Come! Come,” she tugs on my shirt sleeve, pulling me closer to the back table. I turn my head back and forth, scanning over all of the faces in the crowd in search of (y/n). “Garcia,” I say, trying to put my heels down. “Where is (y/n)?” She ignores me and continues pushing us through the sea of people. Finally our table appears and Emily, JJ, and Tara sit in a semi circle shaped booth. “Found him,” she cheers, pushing me into the booth. She sits down across from me and turns to JJ. “Now shimmy over, I have a question for the good Doctor.”

“Garcia,” I practically beg. “Where is (y/n)?”

“Oh, sorry! She left with Newbie.” Penelope answers, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“No, Pen,” JJ glances up from her drink to meet my eyeline. “Not like that, Luke was just driving her home.”

“Are you kidding? Those two were hot-and-heavy on the dance floor. Totally into each other… Oh my god imagine their kids!” Garcia beams, clasping her hands together. JJ frowns, but nods at Penelope, not to give her any indication of my feelings. “So! Tara was telling me that alcohol actually-”

“Garcia,” I interrupt and stand up from the booth. “I’m so sorry, but I really have to go.”

Just give me some time and space to realize

That you, were busy lying, sleeping 'round with other guys

And what the hell were we?

Tell me we weren't just friends

This doesn't make much sense. No.

“Spencer for the love of God open the door,” (y/n) mumbles against my neck. Goosebumps rise in the wake of her words.

“I’m trying, but you’re distracting me,” I respond. The hotel keycard fumbles in my hands against the door as (y/n) lingers next to me.

“Oh I’m sorry, I’m distracting you?” She coyly asks, running her hands under my shirt. Finally the door chimes and swings open. “Thank god,” she says pushing past me into the hotel room. I shut the door behind us and within seconds, were connected again, our moans echoing throughout the empty hotel room. It’s been nearly four months since (y/n) and I decided to hide our feelings from the rest of the world. It’s safer and easier for both of us, but every moment with her makes me want to scream it from the rooftops. Everytime we sneak away to our hotel rooms on cases, share secret glances during profiles, bring each other coffee in the mornings, or just be around one another for longer than usual, my heart begs for more. The two of us agreed that with our jobs and personal struggles the easiest thing would be to enjoy each other when we could, but not stress ourselves about the labels. “Friends with benefits,” (y/n) would label it after we spent one of our first nights together. I hated the term, but by definition… it was true.

Moments pass by and before I know it we're both covered in sweat, tangled in the hotel sheets. We both collapse onto the bed, quickly trying to catch our breath. I plop down on my back, curls covered in sweat and slicked to my forehead. (Y/n) nuzzles into my side, our skin sticking to one another as she fits herself under my arm. My eyes get heavy and I continue to move my hands through her hair onto her bare skin. I reach over with my loose arm and flick the light off, before I bring my arm around her and pull her in closer by the waist. Minutes of silence tick by as both of us are drowning in sleep; I close my eyes letting the night time wash over me and (y/n) does the same. After a while, I feel myself losing to the tired, but before it completely consumes me I hear (y/n) whisper, “I love you”.

But I'm not hurt, I'm tense

Cause I'll be fine without you babe

The bar door swings open again with force and I step onto the sidewalk. The cold temperature chills me again, but I push through the air away from the restaurant. I have no idea where I am headed, but my legs carry me away from the doors and walk for blocks. Thankfully, I had walked to the bar tonight because I am way too restless and anxious to be behind the wheel. Before I know it, I’m in front of my apartment complex. I release a big sigh before climbing the steps up to my home. If I didn’t know any better, I would have ended up at (y/n)’s apartment on my hands and knees, begging for her to take me back. But this isn’t a fairytale, it’s life. Life of a traumatized FBI agent who’s terrified of commitment and loss. I turn my key in the front door and stumble inside the apartment. I toss my shoes by the door and walk through the living room, laying down on my bed as sleep washes over me.

Saturday morning comes only a few hours later, the day drags on as I lay on my bed fully clothed. I rub the back of my eyes with my knuckles before I feel an intense pain in my hand. Shit. I stand up from the comfort of my bed and walk into the bathroom, cleaning off my knuckles and the dried blood from the back of my hand. Pain sears through my hand, but I welcome it, the physical pain taking away from the hurricane going on in my head.

I walk out of the bathroom flipping over a stack of books near my desk. I can’t be trapped here anymore. I have to get out. I pull on a half-worn cardigan over my button up and flatten out my pants, grab my shoes by the door and leave.

Again, I find myself walking in the cool spring air, the streets beginning to fill with morning crowds. I walk the couple of blocks from my house to the BAU, knowing the offices will be empty on the weekend and I can have a space to work without my bed calling my name from the other room. I push open the glass doors to the BAU bullpen and practically collapse into my desk chair. I flick on the reading light and set my head down on the table top. Silence.

“Luke, if you don’t stop,” the words come from the doorway and a chill mixed with shock runs through my body. I whip my head in the direction of the voice and spot Luke and (y/n) laughing together....(y/n) in her dress from the night before. (Y/n) locks her eyes with mine and frowns, “Oh my god, Spence.”

—

oooo shiittttt!! two parter!! whatsss gonna happennnnnnnn ;)))))

part two

masterlist // requests

stay safe & wear a mask!! -m

[hutchhitched]

Naked, Hungover, and Married

Written by: @hutchhitched​

Prompt 63: Katniss and Peeta who are exes wake up together naked, hungover, and married. [submitted by anonymous]

Ratings/Warnings: M

A/N: I’m continuing to post the nine @everlarkficexchange prompts I took and then sat on throughout the early months of the pandemic. Thanks for your patience, and I hope you enjoy. Huge thanks to @javistg for understanding the delays.

_________________

Katniss blinked her eyes open slowly and squinted against the sunlight streaking through the…very unfamiliar bedroom.

 “What the hell?” she grumbled and slapped her hand toward the side of the bed where she hoped she’d find her cell phone. Her head was splitting, and she needed to inhale a gallon of water stat to start the rehydration process. Obviously, she’d had way too much to drink last night.

 “Ow! What the fuck?”

 Spooked out of her mind, Katniss shot upright in bed at the sound of the deep, masculine voice that emanated from under the covers and quickly grabbed the sheet and clutched it to her very exposed, very naked chest. She resisted the urge to glance under the covers. Her stomach sank as she realized she was completely nude and lying in bed with a squirming masculine something or other.

 And if she wasn’t mistaken, that voice sounded really, really familiar. But it couldn’t be. Could it?

 “Shit!” she screeched when Peeta Mellark emerged from the tangled pile of bedclothes and pillows, his blue eyes cloudy with sleep and creases in his skin from where he’d slept with his face pressed into the pillow.

 “Katniss Everdeen?�� he mumbled in a gravelly baritone that made her toes curl and tingle. He’d always had a gloriously sexy voice, even when she wanted to claw his eyes out. Most especially when he turned his pouty mouthed, dimpled face to hers and blinked his bluer-than-the-Caribbean eyes at her in an attempt to get what he wanted. “What are you doing here?”

 “I don’t even know where I am!”

 “Stop yelling,” he grumbled and pressed a palm to the spot between his eyebrows. “I have a killer of a hangover.”

 Peeta tossed the covers aside and rolled over so he could sit up. Her mouth gaped open when she realized that, like her, he was completely naked. And his ass. Was. Glorious. Golden skin over plump cheeks so rounded and ripe she wanted to take a bite out of them. She didn’t usually like peaches so firm, but she’d make an exception for—

 “Don’t stand up!” she screeched, intentionally interrupting her very inappropriate train of thought, and threw a pillow at him. Startled, he grabbed it and held it over his crotch but not before she glimpsed his (very impressive, if she did say so herself) morning wood arcing proudly out of a dark blonde thatch of hair between thick, muscular thighs. “Good God. Put some clothes on.”

 If he wasn’t already infuriating, he certainly was when he smirked and ran his gaze over her curled frame hiding under the sheets and blindly groping for her clothes on the floor by the side of the bed.

 “You’re one to talk. Besides,” he added and lowered the pillow so it rested just below the cut of his hips. She couldn’t quite stop herself from glancing at the trail of coarse hair leading from his belly button down to his— “this is my house. I’m not the one naked in a bedroom that’s not mine.”

 She gaped at his ass as he turned and strode across the room to the en suite. Just as he reached the door, he tossed the pillow back toward the bed and entered the bathroom naked as the day he was born. Infuriated at his audacity, she snatched the pillow out of the air and caught a glimpse of her left hand.

 In particular, the ring finger on her left hand. Where a ring graced her finger. Two rings. One a small but beautifully cut diamond and the other—oh shit!—a plain gold band. She was wearing a wedding set.

 “What the fuck?”

 “I thought I told you to stop yelling.”

 Stunned, she tore her gaze away from her hand and gawked at the man standing in the doorway, bare chested and bemused with his long, lean legs half-covered in cutoff sweats and crossed at the ankle. He leaned against the door like he was perfectly at ease. That he was, in fact, used to waking up with naked women in his bed every day of the week.

 And maybe he was. She hadn’t seen Playboy Peeta since back in college, but then again, she hadn’t exactly been spending a ton of time with him since they’d graduated.

 “How the hell are you so calm? I have an engagement ring on. I have a wedding band on!”

 “You’re freaking out.”

 “I am! Join me, won’t you?”

 “Now, why would I want to do that?” he asked and sauntered toward her. The way his abdominal muscles shifted under his skin almost distracted her from his left hand, which he lifted to show—

 “Oh my fucking hell.”

 “Looks good on me, doesn’t it?”

 She sputtered, “B-but th-that’s a wedding ring!”

 “You know, I always told people I was going to marry someone really smart, and you, dear wife, just proved me right,” he said as he plunked down on the edge of the mattress next to her and leaned over to kiss the side of her head.

 “What the actual hell?” Katniss spat and shoved him away from her. “Are you high?”

 “Definitely not high, but I might still be a little drunk.” He stood quickly and swayed a little bit. He stopped and steadied himself with hands out for balance. “Nope. Scratch that. Not drunk but definitely hungover.”

 “You’re insane. I mean, I suspected it before, but now it’s confirmed. You are absolutely nuts.”

 “Thanks for your vote of confidence, but I’m not insane. I am, however, your brand-new husband.”

 Katniss narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Two minutes ago, you didn’t even know why I was here, and now you’re coolly announcing that we’re married. Something doesn’t add up here.”

 “It all came back to me in the bathroom.”

 “You were in there for 45 seconds.”

 “What can I say?” he shrugged and offered an infuriating smile. “Last night was memorable. It didn’t take long for it to all come flooding…”

 He trailed off suggestively, and her mouth fell open. Again. Because seriously. What the fuck?

 “We didn’t do that,” she insisted. “You are disgusting.”

 “Funny. That’s what you said last night right after I cleaned all the, well, you know, off your chest and stomach and from between your legs. You weren’t wrong then either.”

 She started at him, aghast, her mouth hanging open. Memories flickered in erratic flashes, and it wasn’t what she wanted to see. Most were definitely in the vein of what he’d just hinted. Something about him crawling up her body and licking creamy fluid from her belly before moving to her breasts and then devouring her mouth.

 “I’ve got to get out of here. Where the fuck are my clothes?”

 “What?” he asked, mock surprised. “You don’t want your loving spouse to cook you breakfast in bed? It is our honeymoon, after all.”

 She glared at him before biting out, “I. Will. End. You. Where the fuck are my clothes?”

 “You know, if you can’t keep track of your things, maybe you shouldn’t have any.” She raised her face to rip him a new one, but he was dangling her lacy salmon colored tank top from the tips of his long, artistic fingers. She absolutely did not notice the raised veins in his forearms and the size of his palm when she snatched her shirt from him.

 “Can you give me some privacy, please?” she said as primly as possible through her disgust, but he just chuckled and shook his head.

 “You’re priceless. After what we did last night? Playing virginal doesn’t become you, Everdeen.”

 “Yeah, well, if I actually married you, I’m not Everdeen anymore, am I, Mellark?”

 Peeta froze, his eyes wide at her observation, and she took advantage of his surprise to push past him to the relative safety of his bathroom. He didn’t even protest that she’d pulled the sheet from the bed to cover herself when she went.

 A hesitant knock sounded on the door, and she grumbled at him to go away. He repeated his gesture a couple more times before finally growling, “I found the rest of your clothes. At least take them.” She didn’t bother to thank him when she cracked open the door and snatched them from his hand.

 She took her time putting herself back together, long enough for her hands to stop shaking and her heartrate to slow to a slow canter instead of the full-on gallop it had been beating since she woke up next to Peeta Mellark.

 “What the hell happened last night?” she demanded in a harsh whisper. No matter how hard she tried to remember, nothing else came to her for several moments, and then only flashes of a club and the press of bodies and heat and so much alcohol and a really hot man grinding into her on the dance floor. “And this is why you don’t drink more often.”

 When she felt like she had some kind of control over herself, she inched the door open to an empty bedroom. Wadding the sheet into a ball, she tossed it on the bed and scanned the space for her purse and phone and keys. Nothing. They must be in the living room, which meant she couldn’t sneak out the window to avoid seeing that smug bastard.

 She crept down the hall in the direction of what she hoped was the front door. Sounds echoed down the hall, those remarkably like someone cooking, and her stomach grumbled loudly despite her hangover and horror. A sharp sizzle pricked her ears, and she sighed at the scent of freshly brewing coffee and something that smelled distressingly close to thick-cut slices of ham. God, she’d kill for a hunk of cooked pig right now.

 Katniss rounded the corner and glanced furtively around the open room. A small living area, exceptionally neat and beautifully styled, stretched into a chef’s kitchen that held a disheveled, discomfited Peeta with a spatula in one hand and a carton of eggs in the other. When he saw her, he offered a lopsided, apologetic smile.

 “Good morning, officially. I’m making breakfast,” he said and motioned to the barstools on the other side of the island where he was cooking. “It won’t take long.”

 “Oh, uh, ah, I don’t think I can stay,” she stammered and edged to the door by which her purse and shoes sat.

 “Katniss, please,” he asked, suddenly unsure and vulnerable. “I— we—”

 “Very articulate.”

 Peeta had the grace to flush before shoving a riot of blonde curls off his forehead. “Look, Katniss, last night was pretty insane. I agree with that.”

 “Insane, crazy, completely irresponsible, absolutely not what we should have done.”

 Hurt colored his features, and she regretted it for just a second. But then he opened his mouth again.

 “Absolutely what we should have done. We’ve been skirting around each other for years. I, for one, am glad you finally admitted how you feel about me and gave in,” he insisted. “I mean, it’s not what I would have done if we’d been sober, but a quickie elopement is just as good as a big ceremony.”

 She didn’t have words to answer him because, despite understanding every word he said, it seemed like he was speaking a completely different language.

 “Admit how I feel about you?” she scoffed. “I thought that was perfectly clear. I can’t stand you.”

 “That’s not what you said last night.” His tone was stubborn, and his mouth turned down into a frown. “Last night you told me you loved me. That you’ve always loved me since I bought your lunch at the cafeteria that day back in college.”

 “Last night I was blackout drunk! I would have told a monkey I was in love with him.”

 “Katniss,” he started, but she backed away from him.

 “No! I don’t care what you say. I’m not in love with you, and I don’t want to be married to you. We’re not married! Not really. It’s not possible.”

 “But—”

 “Just don’t,” she shouted and grabbed her shoes and purse. “Goodbye, Peeta.”

 And then she was out the door and running. She didn’t really care where. She just needed to be away from those wounded blue eyes and gentle voice that did something to her no matter how much she didn’t want anything to do with Peeta Mellark.

 ****

 The truth was she had loved him at one point. For a brief period during their senior year when she’d given into his charms and slept with him. After he captivated her with his slick words and hooded looks that made way too many other women throw themselves at his feet. She’d been stupid enough to believe him when he told her she was the only one for him, and she’d agreed to be his girlfriend for two deliriously happy months. Until he broke her heart, and she refused to ever speak to him again.

 And it’s not like he hadn’t tried a million times. Peeta had called her, emailed and texted, even shown up on her porch with flowers and some ridiculous present she didn’t give him the satisfaction of opening. She wasn’t going to allow him a chance to hurt her again, not after catching him lip-locked with Cashmere, one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen. Not even when the woman herself let Katniss know that the kiss had meant nothing to her and that Peeta was still hers if she wanted. Katniss wasn’t going to settle for anybody’s seconds, even if he’d been hers in the first place. Graduation came just a few weeks after that, and she’d managed to avoid him around town in the years since. Now, at twenty-seven, she didn’t care enough about him to notice he seemed to have a different woman with him every time she glimpsed him in public or at an event where their infuriatingly small circle of friends had invited them both.

 God, she must have been hammered to get anywhere near him last night, let alone marrying him and ending up in bed together.

 She was three blocks from his house before she slowed long enough to reach into her purse where, thankfully, her phone rested. Snatching it out, she ignored the notification on her screen and dialed her best friend. When Gale answered, she breathed a sigh of relief.

 “Hey, Catnip,” he greeted her in his deep voice. Amusement echoed over the phone line, and she wanted to smack him.

 “Thank fuck you answered. Where the hell were you last night when I was, apparently, getting plastered and leaving the club with my arch enemy?”

 “You didn’t seem to think he was too bad last night,” Gale laughed, and Katniss almost hung up on him. Unfortunately, she needed to figure out what had happened because she didn’t remember a damn thing that made sense.

 “Seriously, dude. I woke up naked and in bed with him. I wouldn’t do that if I was in my right mind, so tell me what happened. And also, why didn’t you stop me?”

 “Well, shit, Catnip,” her best friend laughed. “You never could resist that guy, but I didn’t think you’d jump into bed with him after one night back together.”

 “Back together?”

 “You really don’t remember anything?”

 “No,” she mumbled, but something pricked at the edge of her memory. Something about running into the back of a stocky, muscular, strong man who she’d leaned into gratefully. He’d been protective when another guy hit on her lewdly, and they’d started talking. Realized they already knew each other. Decided to catch up. Her discomfort at first because…

 Oh god. Because it was Peeta, but she’d been just tipsy enough to be a little forgiving, and he’d looked amazing in his tight green t-shirt that made his skin glow and his eyes tint toward turquoise instead of aqua. And he’s looked so eager and repentant and his smile wide and his touch so gentle and warm.

 “Well, it was entertaining for the rest of us, anyway.”

 “Glad I could make your night better,�� she groused. “Now, spill it.”

 “You disappeared for a little while. Thanks for bailing on my birthday, by the way.”

 “Yeah, yeah. I’ll make it up to you,” she snapped.

 “When you didn’t come back, we got worried and went looking for you,” he explained. “Annie went first and couldn’t find you. Then Finnick took a turn and said he’d caught a glimpse of your back at the bar, but you disappeared before he could make his way over to you. So, I went to track you down, and, when I couldn’t find you, Johanna went on the prowl.”

 “Not Jo,” she groaned.

 “Yeah, she found you cuddled up to Mellark in the back room. You were talking in the corner and then kissing and then—”

 “She didn’t know who he was, so she didn’t try to stop me.”

 Gale huffed an irritated sigh. “Jo didn’t stop you because, when she tried, you told her you were getting reacquainted with your former lover and would she please kindly fuck off.”

 “I’m surprised she didn’t bite my head off.”

 “She did, but lover boy stopped her cold. And when he did, you told him to take you home or lose you forever.”

 “I didn’t misquote Top Gun to him,” she insisted. “I wouldn’t disrespect Goose that way.”

 “Apparently, you did, and then you left with him. We tried calling. I would have come and gotten you, but you only answered once, and you were absolutely insistent that you wanted to be with him.”

 “Gale,” she said as patiently as she could, “I was clearly drunk. Maybe not the best time to trust my judgment.”

 “You weren’t drunk.”

 “I woke up hungover!”

 “I paid yours and Peeta’s bar tab. A total of two drinks each.”

 “Then… Oh, good night, nurse,” she gasped. “I remember now.”

 “Well, then fill me in. I wasn’t there for that part of it,” he said, and she could practically hear him roll his eyes.

 “I had a flask in my purse. I stashed it in case you all wanted to stay longer than I wanted to pay for drinks, and I pulled it out and started drinking.” She gulped and groaned, “I came onto him. Asked him to take me to his place. That I wanted to apologize for not listening to him back in college.”

 “And you woke up naked with him? Uh…”

 “No, it wasn’t his fault. I wasn’t that drunk, and he was soooooooo… Dammit, he was so sweet, so apologetic. And then he kissed me.”

 “I don’t really think I need to hear the rest of it, do you?” Gale muttered.

 She snapped her mouth shut. She didn’t need to justify herself or share what had happened between Peeta and her the night before. Suffice it to say that she’d shed her clothes willingly, and they’d both slammed a lot of alcohol.

 “Shit. I’ve got to go.”

 Katniss dropped her phone back in her purse and turned in her tracks. She took a few hurried steps and then ran. She was out of breath by the time she stopped at his stoop, but she knocked while she sucked air into her lungs. It only took a few seconds for him to open the door, and when he did, she wanted to reach for him.

 Hands twitching, she stated, “We’re not really married.”

 “No.”

 “But we slept together.”

 “Well, I didn’t get a lot of sleep—”

 “Peeta!”

 He grinned sheepishly and nodded. “You were kind of insistent about the sex part. I didn’t mind so much.”

 “If I remember correctly, I was very enthusiastic about it.”

 “Yeah.”

 “To be fair, I don’t remember much.” Peeta’s face fell, and she reached out to touch his hand. “But I remember wanting to. It’s the rings that don’t make any sense.”

 He huffed and averted his eyes. Staring over her head at the tree in the front yard, he mumbled, “You wanted to see them. It’s the set I bought when we were in college. I wanted to propose to you, but we’d only been together for a little while. It didn’t matter to me. I already knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, so I bought them and thought I’d bide my time until, until…”

 “Until you kissed Cashmere.” It still hurt to say, regardless of the years that had passed.

 “Until she kissed me,” he protested. “I was telling the truth about that. She came onto me. It surprised the hell out of me, and I was pushing her away when you caught us. I tried telling you that for weeks, but you wouldn’t listen, and then graduation and I didn’t know where you went and—”

 “And I wouldn’t answer any of your attempts to get ahold of me.”

 “Your friends wouldn’t help me, and then I got my job and moved. It wasn’t until I came back last year that I knew how to find you, and you obviously hated me by then. I figured I might as well give up and take what I could get.”

 “That was a lot of women, Peeta.”

 “It might have looked like a lot of women, but none of them held a candle to you. There were so many because none of them got a second date.”

 Katniss wiggled her fingers and then slipped the wedding set off and held them out to him. “You should have these back.”

 His shoulders drooped, and he nodded when she placed them in his palm. He’d already taken his band off. His left hand was bare.

 “If it helps, I thought they looked really good on you,” he said, his voice choked with emotion.

 She smiled gently and took a step off the porch. As she backed away, she called, “Not ready for an engagement, but a date might be nice.”

 His head popped up, and she could see his hopeful gaze from halfway across the yard. “Really?”

 “You free tonight?”

 “Yes!”

 “Let’s try that bar from last night again. This time I’ll introduce you to my friends. 9:00?”

 His smile stretched across his face, and he lifted his fist in triumph.

 “I’ll be there!”

 Katniss turned then and allowed herself a satisfied grin. It wasn’t every day you woke up married and ended up with a date.

[shining-red-diamond]

Shallow Waters (Part 1)

Words: 2.5k

Pairing: Hendery x Brittany (OC)

Rating: PG-15

Genre: fluff, some angst

Warnings: mentions of abandonment, illness, and 

A/N: Banner credits to @dearyongs

Summary: When Brittany met a merman named Hendery, little did she know her life was going to change. Not only do they fall in love, learn about each other’s worlds, and create a life for themselves; but there’s also a mystery surrounding Hendery that could potentially put both of their lives in danger.

-

Sipping on her strawberry lemonade, Brittany was zoned into her book. The summer sun brightened up the beach in her backyard, a gentle breeze kept the weather cool, and she was relaxed on her lounge chair on her porch. Brittany hummed a tune as she read, a habit she had ever since she was young. In her mind, it was offered as background music whenever she read one of her books.

Little did she know that her voice had caught the attention of a certain inhabitant of the ocean. Hendery had seen her and wanted to talk to Brittany since she moved to an isolated area in the Florida Keys about six months earlier. Multiple humans had come and gone to where he roamed, but something about Brittany reeled him as if she were a magnet for him. He was a little on the shy side, but he had finally worked up the courage to talk to her. Explaining that he was a merman would be difficult, but he hoped she would understand.

As soon as she had walked inside of her house with the empty glass in her hand, Hendery took advantage of her distraction to sneak onto her porch. He was intending on standing there to wait for her until he noticed the book she was reading. The cover had gold lettering centered at the top, and an elaborate picture of a human boy in round glasses trying to catch a small, spherical object while riding some sort of flying object was printed under the lettering. Hendery couldn’t read human writing, but from the cover he could tell it was an adventurous story. He quickly flipped through pages, but there were mostly words. Only a few pictures showed up on certain pages.

As soon as Brittany returned outside, she immediately jumped at the sight of a strange, young man with jet black hair standing on her porch and flipping through her book. The shock caused her to nearly drop her drink.

“Who are you?” she asked him, keeping a distance in her startled state. “What do you want?”

Hendery tried to speak, but he didn’t know how to speak human either. He’d picked up a few words here and there, but all he could do was make little squeals and dolphin sounds and use his body to explain what he was thinking. The only thing he could get out was his name.

“H-Hendery,” he introduced himself as he pointed at himself.

“Is that your name?” Brittany asked, and he nodded. “I’m Brittany.”

“Brittany,” Hendery repeated with a smile.

She noticed the book in his hands. “Oh, do you like Harry Potter? I’m rereading the series.”

“Can’t read.”

“Oh…” she paused before changing the subject. “May I ask where you came from?”

Hendery pointed to the ocean, but Brittany just chuckled. “Very funny.”

He used his body language to insist that he was from the ocean, and by the look of sincerity on his face Brittany could tell that he wasn’t joking.

“Oh, are you a sailor?” she raised an eyebrow. Hendery shook his head.

He then took the book out of her hands, set it on one of the lounge chairs and had her follow him to the beach.

“Dude, where are we going?”

Once her toes were touching the edge of the shoreline, Hendery stripped his shirt and shorts off before instructing her, “Wait.” Before she could say anything, he was dashing to the water before Olympic-style diving into the ocean. An iridescent glow where Hendery dove nearly blinded Brittany for a second before he dolphin-jumped out of the water again. A flash of purple where his legs should be had sparkled in the sunlight.

Brittany couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

A merman? A real merman?

She shut her eyes and pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. When she opened them, Hendery was sitting there on the beach, staring at her with confusion on his face.

Brittany could see his tail much clearer now. It was scaly, and each one was a beautiful purple and gold monochrome that also turned black in some angles. They faded into skin where the bases of his hips were.

“There’s no way this is real right now,” Brittany chuckled. “I must have hit my head. I’m dreaming.”

Hendery shook his head, and whispered, “Real.”

If she had already pinched herself once, she did it again but without this man knowing.

When she accepted that she wasn’t dreaming, she knelt down and asked, “May I touch them?”

Hendery had never been touched by a human much less any female creature. He hesitated a little, but he obliged. Taking her hand, he set to where he figured his shins would be.

“Gentle,” he begged.

“I will,” she promised.

Her fingertips carefully stroked his tail up and down, and the scales were smooth as a marble slab table with the exception of the gaps lining each one.

“Mermaids are real,” she whispered to herself.

“Yes,” Hendery replied.

Brittany faced him and promised, “I’ll keep it a secret if you want me to.”

“Please.”

“Okay. Can you turn human again? I can get you a towel to dry off with and something to eat if you’re hungry.”

Hendery nodded.

“I’ll be right back,” she said before rushing back into her house.

Lying there on his side, he watched as her slender legs carried her when she ran. Every inch of her was sketched into his brain: her flaming red hair, her eyes the color of the sea, and an hourglass figure like a mermaid’s. Hender was an observer, and as much as he watched her from afar some days, Brittany seemed like a kind person just from her actions. If she really was the most beautiful woman in the world to him, then it was definitely coming from her heart.

Brittany soon returned with a towel and his clothes that were abandoned on the beach, and he sat up a bit straighter. She helped him scoot away from the water to dry off properly. Hendery pat himself down, as he had done many times before with any absorbent cloth, and within a few seconds his tail split in a vertical line so delicately as clay being sliced in half with an invisible knife. His tail and scales melted into legs and feet, but Brittany quickly handed him his clothes before she saw too much.

“Thanks,” he smiled as she turned away to give him privacy as he dressed himself.

After Hendery was fully clothed, Brittany turned back around and asked him, “Would you like to come inside?”

“Inside?” he repeated.

“The house. I’m getting hungry, so I want to eat something for lunch.”

“Food?” Hendery’s eyes lit up as he smiled, showing off his sharp teeth.

Brittany nodded. She had heard of some merfolk having such sharp teeth, but her new friend’s teeth were like sharks. They nearly startled her as it was such a shock for her to see.

She breathed deeply to calm down. “What do you like?” she asked him as she guided him to her back porch.

“Fish.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” she smiled as she opened the door. “I’ve got plenty.”

Brittany’s house was the most beautiful thing Hendery had never seen in his life. It was all so clean and tidy with most of the furniture having a soft navy fabric on some of the human furniture. It was his first time inside of a human house, so he took in everything his eyes could see.

In the kitchen, there was a wooden table with six chairs, and a large kitchen island stood right in the center (he had seen human billboard ads kitchen ware of some place called “Home Depot”). Two metallic doors were built into one wall, and a sink was placed beneath a window. The cabinets were also a beautiful wooden, and Hendery was impressed at how clean Brittany kept it.

“Pretty,” he mumbled as he sat at the table.

“All I have is salmon,” Brittany interrupted his thoughts. “How do you like them? I just learned how to debone and prepare them.” She set out a wooden board on the island and placed three raw salmon fish on it.

Hendery looked at the fish for a few seconds before picking one up with his bare hands and chomping down on its head with his sharp teeth. He ripped the head off in the process, a few fish scales sprinkling onto the counter.

“That answers that question,” giggled Brittany. “Raw it is.”

As he ate, Brittany fixed herself a BLT sandwich and a glass of the remaining pink lemonade. She tore off a couple paper towels for her new friend and herself. Hendery raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“To clean off your hands and mouth,” she explained as she gave a small demonstration, and he nodded before continuing his lunch.

Brittany observed the way he was chowing down on the raw fish. It was as if he hadn’t eaten in a long time, and seeing how loosely the unbuttoned shirt hung on his body she could almost make out a couple of ribs poking out from his sides.

“Thanks,” Hendery said as he wiped his hands and mouth with the paper towel.

“You’re welcome,” she smiled. “Don’t worry about the scales. I’ll clean it up.”

Hendery nods. His eyes then casually wander around her house.

“It’s not much, but I like it.”

“Pretty,” the merman repeated himself from earlier, now poking at the faucet. He jumped when water automatically showered out.

Brittany chuckled as she tossed her empty plate into the sink. “You haven’t seen much of what humans do, have you?”

Hendery shook his head. “Little.”

“A little.” Brittany thought for a moment. She knew he couldn’t form full sentences, but she knew he was smart. Hendery was curious, and from the way he observed everything Brittany could tell he wanted to learn. A light bulb went off in her head.

“How about this?” she said. “I work in the mornings, but every afternoon you can come by and I’ll teach you how to read and talk.”

“Talk? Read?” Hendery’s eyes were lighting up. No human had ever offered to teach him to speak a language before. Sure, he understood hundreds of languages, but for whatever reason he lacked the ability to try to form a proper sentence. All he spoke to his friends were by different voice patterns and ocean soundwaves.

“Everything,” Brittany promised. “Just come knock on my back door and we’ll begin.”

Hendery nodded. Taking her hand in his, he pressed a gentle kiss to it. “Tomorrow?” he begged.

“Tomorrow.”

-

It was a Friday afternoon when Hendery began his reading and writing lessons with Brittany. She was an excellent teacher as her college degree was in elementary education, but she stuck with tutoring young children who needed phonics and spelling help in school. Hendery was no different from them in terms of learning the different phonics, vowels, and consonants. The first lesson was just the basics of the alphabet and what sound each one made. Flashcards with pictures and the letter, such as “M” for milk, were easy for Hendery to follow. The lessons did get harder with each lesson every day for about a month and a half, but Brittany taught him that practice and application are key in having the lessons stick in his brain. Of course, he got frustrated whenever he couldn’t get a syllable or pronounciation correct, but Brittany pushed him to do his best. Before long, Hendery was forming proper sentences to get his thoughts across to her.

“Okay, so as a final test,” Brittany concluded after their final lesson one Tuesday afternoon, “tell me about an adventure you’ve had in the ocean.”

“What story does Brittany want to hear?” Hendery asked. He had grown a habit of speaking in third person. Brittany had taught him first and third person point-of-view, but he liked speaking in third. She didn’t mind it a bit.

“Did you meet any other mermaids or mermen?”

Hendery shook his head as his smile dropped. “Hendery was abandoned when he was small.”

“What happened?” Brittany wasn’t expecting his answer to be so grim.

“He was too small and weak. His stomach couldn’t hold down anything his father gave him. Only fish.”

“Oh…” Her fingernails tapped on the table in a rhythm. “So, they just left you behind?”

He nodded again, but a grin came back to his face. “Hendery became friends with the sirens. They took him in, fed him, taught him to swim, hunt, and to communicate through sound.”

“Sirens?” Brittany repeated. “How many mythical creatures are out there that are real?”

“The Kraken is not real. The only octopus and squids that exist are only slightly taller than a human man.”

Brittany was now curious. She had only grown up hearing fairy tales about the mythological beings of the deep blue, but she always brushed them off as nothing more than stories. Now, that Hendery had entered into her life, she wanted to know which ones existed and which were hoaxes.

“Tell me more,” she begged as she pushed the notes for the lesson aside. “I want to know everything.”

“Is Brittany sure?” he teased. “There’s a lot of dangerous ones that could be harmful.”

“That’s what makes it exciting, and I know the perfect spot for us to talk.”

“Where?”

“Come with me,” she motioned with her finger, and Hendery followed her out the back door.

“But Hendery and Brittany have relaxed here already,” he whined.

Brittany giggled and took his hand. “Not here, silly. We have to walk and swim a little ways.”

Hendery got excited and held on to her hand tighter as she pulled him along. It was about a three minute walk before they came close to a pier stretching out in the ocean. The pier was nothing fancy, just a place where fishermen could come relax and catch a meal. Most of the time, it was empty mainly because it was a more isolated area. However, the two jumped into the water (Brittany had stripped her clothes off in the house, revealing a royal blue halter top bikini) and quietly swam underneath the bridge to avoid being noticed by two fishermen throwing their lines at the end of the pier.

Once they were far enough, the two of them crawled out of the water and onto the beach area. They decided to just naturally dry off in the sunshine, but it was a little chilly as the breeze kissed their skin.

“Hendery and the sun will keep you warm,” the merman offered, seemingly unbothered by the cool winds. Brittany just nodded in compliance and allowed him to wrap his arms around her waist as they sat down.

Leaning back against his chest, she immediately felt the warmth he gave off. Not only was the warmth nice and comfortable, but being held by her new friend likes this made her feel good inside. She could feel her cheeks turn as red as a firetruck, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted him to hold her forever, if he could. Hendery was discovering some new feelings for himself in that moment, and he knew deep down that he wanted to stay with his friend for as long as he lived.

“What does Brittany want to know?” Hendery asked, his voice cracking in shyness.

-

Tagging: @fantasywayv​ @ezralia-writes​ @queen-of-himbos​ @daybreakx​ @the32ndbeat​ @mafia-nct​ @philosopher-of-fandoms​ @neocitybyday​​  @dreamystuffers​ @jaekissd​ Let me know it you wanna be tagged or removed

[bellakitse]

The One Where TK Strand Meets The In-Laws

Four times TK Strand meets and charms a Reyes woman.

Written for Lone Star Week Day 1 - Family

A/N: At the end of the story click on each of the girls names to see what I imagine they look like. Spoiler alert* Every Reyes is beautiful.

TK Strand knows his boyfriend has a big family. One of four kids – the youngest of the siblings with three older sisters and a mother who baby him – Carlos tells him with a bashful smile that TK finds precious. There are pictures of them around Carlos’ apartment, he knows all about them, he just hasn’t met them.

They’ve only just made this thing between them official, and they’re taking their time enjoying each other before they bring family into the mix.

Even with his dad, who already knows Carlos, TK has made sure to keep things as separate as he can between work and their personal life. He wants this time to be about them as they settle into the relationship. This is why he’s taken by surprise the first time he meets Valentina, Carlos’ oldest sister, since the last thing he expected was to meet her in Carlos’ apartment when his boyfriend is still at work, with TK walking into his place hoping to surprise him with dinner.

“Uh – hello?” he gets out, caught off guard by the very pretty woman with long black hair scrolling through her phone as she lays back on the leather couch in the living room. He watches her lower her phone from her face, raising an eyebrow at him as he stands nervously by the door. He recognizes her instantly from the pictures, but even if he didn’t, he could see the family resemblance. She’s beautiful like Carlos, same brown eyes, and expressive eyebrows that are currently judging the hell out of him.

“And just who might you be?” she questions as she sits up. “Walking into my baby brother’s apartment with a key,” she looks pointedly at the hand where the keys tangle from.

“I’m TK,” he answers as he takes a steadying breath, shifting the groceries in his hand to close the door. “I’m Carlos’ boyfriend, and you’re Valentina, right?”

Valentina’s eyebrows climb a little higher if possible. “Yeah.”

“Carlos has told me about all of you, and shown me pictures,” he explains, heading for the kitchen instead of continuing to stand by the door like an idiot. He hears her standing up, her shoes clicking on the wooden floor as she follows him. He turns around to find her leaning on one of the counters, watching him with an assessing look while he takes out the veggies he needs for the fajitas he has planned.

“That’s funny,” she starts, still looking at him skeptically. “He hasn’t mentioned you.”

TK gives her a half-smile that seems to surprise her. “That’s not odd; we are still pretty new.”

Going by Valentina's expression, it’s obvious she doesn’t quite believe him, given that he let himself in with his own set of keys and is moving around Carlos’ kitchen like it’s a common occurrence – which it is – he understands the look.

“The title I mean, of boyfriends,” he explains. “That’s what’s new; it took us a while to get it right.”

Valentina nods, giving him the benefit of the doubt. “So, your name is TK?”

“Yep, TK Strand,” he answers with a bright smile, sticking out his hand for her to take. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” she says with a quirk of her lips as she shakes his hand. “So, how did you meet my baby brother?”

“On the job,” TK says as he leans back against the sink to face her.

“Are you a cop?” she asks, curious.

Shaking his head, he smiles. “No, I’m a firefighter, my crew answered a call he was on about six months ago, and we’ve been trying to figure this out since.”

“Six months?” she exclaims, her eyes widening at the time frame. “I can’t believe he’s managed to keep you a secret for this long. Carlos shares everything with us.”

TK lets out a wince, suddenly feeling bad. He hadn’t really thought about Carlos keeping quiet about him because it’s what TK wanted.

“I was going through some things,” he hedges. “I wasn’t ready for a relationship, and Carlos was very patient with me.”

Valentina looks at him unconvinced, and TK feels a trickle of worry run through him. The last thing he wants is for Carlos’ family not to like him now when he’s sure about his feelings, and all he wants is to be with Carlos.

“I’ll tell you what,” TK starts, deciding that it’s time to get to know the important people in his boyfriend’s life, starting with his sister. “I’m making Carlos dinner, that’s why I came over. He should be home in about an hour; the only thing is I’m not the greatest cook,” he continues, hoping she’ll agree to his idea. “He usually handles the dinners. Help me not fuck it up, and you can grill me all you want.”

Valentina stares at him for a moment before she smirks at him, the expression on her face wickedly amused. She points a finger at him. “If I make you cry – ” she warns.

“We’ll blame it on the onions,” he jokes back at her, pleased when she lets out a laugh.

  ֎֎֎

 Valentina is in the middle of telling TK about the time Carlos decided that he was going to ‘rescue’ the neighborhood dogs when Carlos walks in.

“He stole them!” she exclaims, and TK is laughing so hard tears are running down his face. “Lured all of them with treats, then when Mami demanded he return them, he said that if the people were better dog owners, it wouldn’t have been so easy to take the dogs from their yards in the first place. He was nine.”

TK laughs loudly, turning his head towards the door when he hears it open.

“Baby?” Carlos calls out, stopping short as he spots them still in the kitchen, Valentina sits on top of the counter while TK finishes cooking, she’d been guiding him through every step of making fajitas. “What’s going on?”

TK has a grin on his face as he makes his way over to him, he gives him a soft kiss, and though Carlos is still surprised to see him hanging out with his sister, he returns it, his touch gentle as he holds TK by the waist.

Pulling back, TK gives him another smile. “Valentina was just telling me of your dognapping ways,” he teases, enjoying the groan Carlos lets out as he rubs his face. “I’m going to have to warn dad to make sure Buttercup is safe.”

“It’s a good thing he became a cop,” Valentina declares, a smirk on her face as she looks at her brother. “If not, I fear the master criminal he would have become.”

TK chuckles softly while Carlos rolls his eyes at his sister before making his way over to kiss her on the cheek.

“Hey, Vale.”

“Nene,” Valentina smiles at him, running a hand over his hair tenderly. “I’ve been getting to know your boy here.”

Carlos shoots him a look, and TK can see the concern in his eyes, huffing a laugh he nods towards her. “She’s been very nice, even helped make dinner for you.”

“Valentina, nice?” Carlos questions, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds fake, but okay,” he dodges the swipe of her hand with practiced ease.

“Grosero,” she gripes, shaking her head at him while Carlos chuckles.

“What brings you by?” Carlos asks as he opens the fridge to get some water.

Valentina gives him a shrug of her shoulder. “I had some time off, figured I’d visit, and we could talk about Mami’s upcoming birthday. Instead, I met TK and stuck around to make sure if he’s good enough for you.”

“What’s the verdict?” TK asks, sharing a playful look with her when she smirks over at him.

“You’re way too cool for my nerdy baby brother,” she answers seriously.

TK high-fives her, both of them laughing when Carlos lets out another groan.

“I should have known you’d win her over with a snap of your fingers,” he complains, shaking his head, the smile on his face contradicting his words. “I need a shower, are you staying for dinner, Vale?”

“She is,” TK says quickly when Valentina hesitates. “She has to tell me more stories about baby Carlos.”

Carlos watches as they share a grin, and shakes his head again, resigned to his fate. “Won’t that be fun.”

 ֎֍֎

 “How could you have never been to a state fair?” Carlos asks him as they walk hand in hand through the crowded carnival. Neon lights flash from the rides and games, all around is the roar of the crowd.

TK shrugs his shoulders, pressing himself closer to Carlos when a group of kids run by them so fast they almost make him drop his cotton candy. “I don’t know,” he says, taking a bite of the pink and blue fluff. “I mean, I’ve been to Coney Island, but that’s always there. If the state fair came to New York, and I’m sure it did, I guess we just missed it.”

“Besides, this has a very wholesome vibe to it,” TK waves his hand around the place. “That is kind of missing from the city.”

“Are you having fun, though?” Carlos asks with a little crease between his brows as he looks around the chaotic place with concern. “We can always go and do something else if you don’t like it.”

TK stops to face Carlos, he raises his hand and presses his thumb between Carlos’ eyebrows, trying to smooth out the frown. “I’m having fun,” he assures him, mimicking Carlos frown teasingly before giving way to a smile. “Really, this is something I’ve never done before, it’s great.”

Carlos’ face clears as he smiles back at TK, looking back at him happily. TK leans into Carlos’ frame, pleased when Carlos brings his hand to TK’s waist, holding him close to his body.

“I have you, and my cotton candy,” he gestures towards his treat. “Both of which are sweet and taste delicious,” he continues, smirking when Carlos’ eyes drift down to his lips.

“Which one tastes better?” Carlos asks, his brown eyes glistening under the fair lights, and TK has to take a steadying breath at the sinfully playful look on Carlos’ face.

“Well, I have been eating the cotton candy for the last fifteen minutes and haven’t kissed you,” TK starts as he brings his hand up to Carlos’ neck, pulling him closer. “I have to taste you again for a fair comparison, you understand.”

Carlos nods, eyes dancing with amusement, his lips inches away from TK’s. “For science.”

“Exactly,” TK says, letting out a soft needy sound just as Carlos covers his mouth with his, licking his way into TK’s mouth without hesitation.

TK holds on to Carlos as he all but melts into the kiss he gives him. It’s all tongue, heat, and sugar from the candy they’ve been sharing. TK has a history with substances, but he knows right now that no drug will ever make him feel as good as Carlos Reyes kissing him like it’s the only thing he wants to do.

He moans softly into the kiss, feeling Carlos’ slight shake as he grips his waist tighter in an effort to get even closer. TK is ready to end the kiss just to tell Carlos they need to find some dark corner, now, when someone calls their attention.

“Making out like a horny teenager, Carlos. So much for being an upstanding officer of the law.”

TK feels Carlos freeze at the words, pulling away from him with a jerk. TK is breathing heavily as he turns around to find a beautiful woman with wild curly hair, golden brown skin, and familiar expressive brown eyes watching them with a straight look on her face. Next to her is a little girl no older than ten staring at them with large eyes.

“Sofía, hi,” Carlos gets out kind of stammering and blushing, and TK instantly realizes it’s Carlos’ second oldest sister. “Mari,” he continues, looking down at the little girl, losing his awkwardness as he smiles at her. “Hola mi amor.”

“Hi, Tio Carlos,” the little girl greets back, stepping forward when Carlos holds out his arms to her. TK watches as Carlos gets down to hug her, smiling when she kisses Carlos on the cheek. TK looks up from the sweet display as Carlos asks Mari how’s school, to find Sofia studying him like a bug under a microscope.

“So, you are the white boy my little brother is smitten with,” she questions, the corner of her mouth quirking upward when Carlos’ head snaps up to her from talking with his niece.

“You didn’t really think Valentina kept to herself meeting him or the dinner you guys had, did you?” Sofía rolls her eyes unimpressed when Carlos gives her a lost look. “It’s like you don’t know us.”

“Tia Lola, Tia Valentina, and Mami have been facetiming talking about your boyfriend,” Mari volunteers as she looks at TK curiously. “Titi Vale said you were really cute,” she says shyly, and TK is instantly charmed. “She was right.”

TK grins down at her, crouching down like Carlos had done to meet her eyes. “Thank you, Mari, but I’m not as cute as you though,” he answers, getting another shy smile. “I’m TK,” he holds out his hand for her, smiling when she takes it. “How old are you?”

“Nine,” Mari says proudly, and TK nods before standing up to look back at Sofía.

“TK Strand, the ‘white boy’ boyfriend, or the gringo like Valentina called me,” he says, holding out his hand for her too, flashing her a smirk when she gives him a reluctant smile at his words.

“Sofía Reyes, older sister of this one,” she points at Carlos. “The quietest of the Reyes clan and therefore the one you should fear the most,” she says menacingly. “Lola will say it’s her because she’s nuts, but she adopts every stray that comes her way. I’m the scary one.”

TK reins in the urge to grin, knowing it’s the wrong thing to do in the face of an obviously fiercely protective older sister, and instead, lets himself feel a wave of satisfaction at knowing that Carlos is so cared for by his family.

“I will make a note to let her know it’s not her when I finally meet her,” TK assures her.

Sofía raises an eyebrow at him. “You think you’ll get that far?”

“I don’t see why not,” TK shrugs; as far as he’s concerned, he’ll eventually get to know all of them. “I met Valentina and liked her very much; you seem nice too. Makes sense I would meet Lola too, she’s Carlos’ other sister,” he looks over at Carlos, who is staring at him quietly and a little nervous like he did when Valentina was at the apartment. “After all, I’m not going anywhere, so meeting the rest of Carlos’ family seems inevitable, and I look forward to getting to know everyone important to him.”

Sofía stares at him for a moment, and it’s obvious that she’s making up her mind about him. He stands up straighter, hoping she doesn’t find him lacking.  Finally, she smiles at him, now more welcoming.

“Valentina said you were smooth,” she says with a smirk.

“I’m really not,” he answers, getting a playful roll of her eyes.

“You are,” she says again. “But you also come off as sincere, so it’s sweet. Are you enjoying the fair?”

TK nods, looking back at Carlos. He holds out his hand to him, smiling softly when Carlos takes it. “I’ve never been to one, it’s nice.”

“You’ve never been to a fair?” Mari exclaims, appalled by his lack of life experience, and the three of them have to keep from laughing at how offended she sounds. “Have you gotten on the rides?”

TK shakes his head, biting down on his lip when she makes a disgusted sound. “Can you keep a secret?” he says in a loud whisper, focusing on Mari, so she knows it’s just for her. He’s charmed by the way she nods her head quickly at him. “I’m kind of scared of them, and really what I want is for your uncle to win me a big teddy bear.”

Mari lights up at the suggestion, turning from him to Carlos. “Tio, you have to!”

Carlos smiles down at his niece, tilting his chin in the direction of the games. “You pick which one we should play.”

Mari grins happily, turning towards the games.

“I didn’t know you were afraid of the rides,” Carlos questions softly, smiling at the blush on TK’s face as he shrugs his shoulders.

“Carlos is afraid of the Ferris wheel,” Sofia offers, grinning when Carlos scowls at her, before following her daughter, who has started walking towards a knockdown pins game.

TK is amused as he takes a step to follow them, but Carlos stops him with a hold of his hand. He turns back to look at him, his breath catching at the soft, vulnerable look on his face.

“Did you mean it?” Carlos asks quietly, looking down at their linked hands, blinking back up at him when TK squeezes it.

“Yes,” he answers just as softly. “I’m not going anywhere,” he continues, knowing that’s what Carlos is asking about, his heart pounding hard under his rib cage as a bright smile takes over Carlos’ face. “As long as you want me, I’m staying.”

Carlos nervously licks his lips, pulling him closer by the hand until TK’s front brushes against his. “And if I want you to stay forever, what would you say to that?”

TK smiles so hard; he’s sure his face will crack. “I would say I’m the luckiest guy in the world because that’s exactly what I want too.”

 ֎֍֎

 “Are you sure this is what you want to do on our one night off together?” Carlos asks him as they stand inside a small art house downtown.

“It’s the last night your sister’s exhibit is on display, and you haven’t had time to come see it with all the overtime you’ve been doing,” he reminds him.

“Yeah, but I also haven’t had time to be alone with you,” Carlos counters with a slight pout, his bottom lip sticking out too adorably for a grown man. TK has to bite down on his lip to keep from letting out a breathy sigh. His boyfriend is ridiculously hot and cute all at the same time; it messes with TK’s senses.

“We’re spending time alone right now,” he answers, and this time he can’t help the grin when Carlos rolls his eyes at him.

“You know when I say alone time I mean naked, Tyler,” Carlos complains, causing TK to let out a laugh, feeling light, happy, and in love.

Yeah. Those words have been running through his head, and on the tip of his tongue for a while now.

“But you look so hot in what you’re wearing,” TK teases though he’s not joking. Carlos is dressed black on black; a thin fitted sweater with an open collar and a pair of slacks that hug his ass perfectly, when he picked him up, TK almost swallowed his tongue at how hot he looked.

“I can’t wait to take it all off you later.” He leans in, his lips brushing against Carlos’ ear. “I think I’ll use my teeth.”

Carlos turns his head, pressing his face to the side of TK’s neck. “You’re such a tease, you better keep your word,” he says, his voice low and rough, sending shivers through TK.

He pulls back to look at Carlos, finding heat in his eyes that he’s sure matches his own. “I promise. First, you will be a good brother, and then I’ll be a very good boyfriend later.”

Carlos lets out a slow settling breath, that does nothing for the lust he sees in his eyes. “You’re a menace.”

“You love it,” TK shoots back with a grin, his breath catching when Carlos gives him a deep piercing look, nodding slowly.

“I do.”

“Carlos, I – ”  TK lets out a shaky breath at the implication behind Carlos’ words.

“Mano!”

Carlos breaks out in a smile, turning around just in time for a small woman with waves of black hair and a massive smile on her animated face to jump into his arms. Carlos wraps his arms around her, lifting her off her feet.

“Hey, Loca,” he murmurs as he holds her in a tight hug, earning a laugh out of the girl.

TK is enjoying watching Carlos with his sister when her eyes land on him, and they widen comically.

“Holy shit! Is this the dreamy gringo you’ve been keeping all to yourself?” she exclaims as Carlos puts her down.

“Otherwise known as TK, my boyfriend,” Carlos rolls his eyes at him, and TK has to grin, taking his hand in support.

“Excuse the fuck out of me,” she says sarcastically. “But it’s not like you’re going out of your way to introduce us to him. Valentina and Sofía met him by accident; to us, you’ve been hiding him.”

“And yet I brought him to your art show, Lola,” Carlos answers exasperated, sighing when she gives him a big grin.

“Because I’m your favorite, right?” she asks smugly. “I knew it.”

She turns to him, sticking her hand out for him to shake. “I’m Lola Reyes, the best sister.”

Carlos shakes his head. “No, she’s Lola la loca, she just gets confused,” he says dryly, scowling when Lola slaps his arm with the back of her hand.

TK laughs at their antics, enjoying this playful, sarcastic side of Carlos. “Loca means crazy, right?”

“Oh, Carlos,” Lola lets out a deep breath, pressing a hand over her heart. “He’s precious, can I keep him?”

“No,” Carlos scowls again. “I’m keeping him, me.”

Lola waves him away dismissively. “He’s the baby of the family, spoiled rotten. Don’t listen to him, you and I are going to be best friends,” she says with a bright smile as she links her arm through his. “Manito, go get my new best friend and me something to drink. I have art to show my best friend.”

TK bites down on his lip to keep from laughing when Carlos glares at his sister for a moment before relenting.

“I’ll get you some mineral water,” Carlos turns towards him, TK goes to say thank you only for the words to get stifled by Carlos giving him a hard kiss. He gasps into it, and Carlos uses it to slip him some tongue, making the kiss dirtier.

“Damn, Carlos,” Lola whistles low when he ends the kiss. “I was just messing with you; he’s yours, you don’t have to pee on the kid.”

TK looks up at Carlos, slightly panting, his eyes meet Carlos’ and they hold. “What was that for?” he whispers.

“To remind you what I have to offer when she freaks you out with her craziness,” Carlos answers, ignoring the rude noise Lola makes.

TK tugs Carlos back in for another kiss, this one light and soft. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers against his mouth. Carlos nods, pressing his forehead against his for a second before he pulls back. He shoots Lola a warning look, which she answers with a dazzling smile that has Carlos huffing as he walks away.

“It’s always a blast to rile him up, but it’s never been this fun,” she grins at him. “So, art?”

TK shakes his head, genuinely amused. “Lead the way.”

She takes him to a medium size painting of two bodies wrapped in an embrace, on the corner of the painting light seems to filter through creating shadows over the bodies, all in bursts of different colors blending like a kaleidoscope.

“Holy shit,” TK swears in awe of the beauty of the painting. “Carlos said you were amazing, and he was right.”

“He said that?” Lola asks softly.

TK looks away from the painting to look at her, finding that she’s smiling but not teasingly like before, this smile is softer, almost bashful.

“He says you’re the most talented person he knows,” TK tells her. “His crazy, gifted artist older sister.”

Lola smiles beautifully, and there is a rosy blush over her cheeks. “He’s sweet when he wants to be; it’s why we keep him.”

He chuckles quietly at her words. “He’s sweet to me all the time.”

Lola’s expression turns wicked. “Yeah, I noticed just how sweet he is with you,” she answers, and it's TK's turn to blush. “Has he played for you yet?”

TK looks at her confused, shaking his head.

Lola smiles again, she leans in, ready to share the secret. “I’m not the only artist in the family, my new best friend. I can paint, but Carlos plays guitar, and he sings.”

TK raises an eyebrow, excitement coursing through him at the new little piece of information he’s gotten. He sees Carlos walking back towards them, with two waters and a beer in hand, and he turns back to Lola, who is smirking at him knowingly.

“You’re right, Lola. As of right now, you and me?” he points between them, returning her smile just as Carlos reaches them, he looks at him for a second, his amusement growing when Carlos gives him a questioning look. “Are the best of friends.”

Carlos looks at them with wide eyes, letting out a resigned ‘fuck’ that sends him and Lola laughing at his expense.

 ֎֍֎

 He hears about the accident halfway through his shift from his dad. Owen has his jacket ready in his hand, and Paul is in his car with the engine running to drive him over to the hospital before he can even think of what he needs to do.

The ride to the hospital is both quick and takes forever. Paul doesn’t say much other than to tell him it’s going to be okay, and when they pull up to the entrance, he manages to get out an ‘give him our best’ before TK is running through the main doors.

He can only imagine what wild look he has on his face as he demands of the poor woman at the front desk to tell him where Officer Reyes is located, which has her pointing to her left and quickly telling him a room number. He thinks the fact that he’s still in uniform is the only reason she doesn’t ask him for ID. He mumbles a hurried apology for his rudeness before he all but runs towards the room she gave him.

He bursts into the room to find Carlos sitting up on a bed; his shirt off shows the left side of his body is one big bruise. He makes a noise, he’s not sure what it is, but Carlos snaps his head to where TK is standing, using the door frame for support.

“TK,” Carlos whispers, his expression going gentle as he takes him in. There are a couple of butterfly stitches above his brow. “Baby, I’m okay.”

TK freezes in place, replaying what he knows. There was a high-speed chase, Carlos’ cruiser hit a divider and ended up flipping. Nothing about that is okay.

“Come here, Tyler,” Carlos tells him, his voice is still soft but firm, snapping him out of his fear spiral.

He’s in tears by the time he reaches Carlos’ side, and Carlos tucks TK’s head into the crook of his neck, shushing him softly as he rubs a hand up and down his back. “I’m okay, baby,” Carlos whispers into his ear again. “It’s okay.”

TK shakes his head, the man he’s in love with is in the hospital, and his heart is pounding so hard that he fears it’s going to burst out of his chest.

“Look at me, TK,” Carlos continues, pulling back to make sure their eyes meet, his thumb wiping at his cheeks. “I swear it looks worse than it is, the doctor already checked me out, and I’m fine. Some bruising and I’ll be achy for a bit, but nothing is broken, everything is going to be okay.”

“I was so scared,” TK gets out, another wave of tears breaks through despite him trying to keep them at bay. “Dad told me about the accident and got Paul to drive me, my hands were shaking so much to do so myself, and all I could think was – ” he pauses as he tries to take a breath. “I thought, what if I lose you, and I didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?” Carlos’ hold on him tightens, his eyes are wide and hopeful as he looks at TK with so much love.

“You know what,” TK whispers, reaching up to touch Carlos’ face, his heart squeezing tight at the way Carlos leans into his hand. “I love you, Carlos. I love you so much.”

Carlos closes his eyes for a moment; when he opens them again, there is a beautiful smile on his battered face. “I love you too, Ty.”

TK lets out a shuddering breath; he goes easily when Carlos tugs him forward again, pressing his lips softly against his, making sure he doesn’t hurt him further.

“Love you,” he says quietly again, now that it’s out he wants to keep saying it, especially if Carlos’ answer is that beautiful smile of his every time. He goes to repeat it because he can, when someone clears their throat, drawing their attention back to the door. A small stylish woman with silver-grey hair down to her shoulders and a youthful face stands there watching them. TK recognizes her instantly as Carlos’ mother, not just from the pictures but from the fact that her eyes are the same gentle eyes he gets to look into regularly.

“I found you some te de manzanilla, mijo,” she says, stepping into the room with a steaming cup. “To relax you.”

TK takes a step back so she can hand Carlos the cup. Her eyes stray to him, her lip quirking upward as she studies him. “Though you look much more relaxed now than earlier, bebé.”

TK feels himself blush at her words, while Carlos lets out a sigh. He’s thankful when Carlos takes his hand in his.

“Mami, this is TK. I’m sure the girls have told you all about him,” he says, rolling his eyes when his mom raises an eyebrow at him. “TK, this is my mother, Carlota Reyes.”

TK sticks his hand out for her, giving her soft hand a shake. “Nice to finally meet you, ma’am, though I wish it were under better circumstances.”

“And you, TK,” Carlota answers, she doesn’t let go of his hand as she studies him, her expression motherly and kind. “Are you okay, mijo?”

“Huh?” TK asks, confused at her question, blushing when she points at her own face. “Oh, man, I must be a mess,” he says embarrassed, quickly wiping at his face. “Sorry about that.”

“You’re beautiful,” Carlos interrupts, retaking his hand. “You’re always beautiful.”

TK feels himself melt at the words, and he doesn’t seem to be the only one, the look on Carlota’s face is one of happiness and wonder.

“Es este tu amor, mi corazón?” Carlota asks as she looks at Carlos, her eyes filling with tears, a tender smile on her face when Carlos gives her a soft nod.

“Si, Mami,” Carlos answers, looking at him as he squeezes his hand. “El es amor de mi vida.”

TK holds his breath, he knows enough Spanish to understand that Carlos just called him the love of his life.

Carlota lets out a watery laugh, her eyes shining, she turns to look at him with so much affection TK is blown away by it. “I’m so happy to finally meet you, cariño.”

 ֎֍֎

 “Are the drinks chilled?” TK asks as he straightens up the pillows on the couch.

“Yes.”

He looks around the living room, looking for anything out of place. “And the bread is in the oven, right?”

“Mmhmm,” Carlos assures him as he steps up behind him, circling his waist with his arms.

“What if we don’t have enough food,” he questions worried, letting out a sigh when Carlos kisses the back of his neck.

“TK, baby, breathe,” Carlos says softly against his throat, and even though they don’t have time for this – Carlos’ mother and sisters are due for brunch at any moment – he tilts his head, giving him more room to work with.

“I want them to like me,” he whispers, letting out a soft moan when Carlos’ tongue runs over the delicate shell of his ear.

“They already do,” Carlos promises, holding him close. “They all adore you, almost as much as I do.”

“I know,” TK says because he does. It’s been a month since Carlos’ accident, and in that month he has spent more time with the Reyes women, he adores all four of them as much as Carlos says they feel for him. But this is still the first time they’ve invited all of them to eat with them, and he’s nervous.

“What can I do to calm you down?” Carlos asks suggestively, his hand playing with the button of his jeans.

“Not that!” he screeches, stepping out of Carlos hold quickly. “Don’t pout at me,” he scolds when he turns around and finds that Carlos is doing just that. “We don’t have time for that, and I refuse to let your family walk in on us with my dick in your mouth.”

“Spoilsport,” Carlos grumbles, though there’s a smirk playing on his face.

“And you say I’m a menace,” TK shakes his head at him, reluctantly smiling when Carlos lets out a laugh.

There’s a knock on the door that startles both of them for a moment. He looks over at Carlos and finds him giving him a tenderly supportive look. Stepping into his space, TK gives Carlos a quick kiss. “After they leave, okay?”

“I’m holding you to that,” Carlos murmurs against his mouth, his voice full of promise.

TK nods, biting down on his lip as he takes in the heat in Carlos’ gaze. He walks over to the door, and with a calming breath, opens it to find four smiling faces.

He takes in the four most important women in his boyfriend’s life, all looking at him with affection and finds himself smiling back, happy to have them in his life too.

“My Reyes girls,” he greets them, smirking when he hears Carlos call him a suck-up, and the smiles on Valentina, Sofía, Lola and, Carlota grow bigger as they share amused looks with him that promise an entertaining afternoon. “Welcome.”

[atiny-orbit1219]

Internet Connection

*Pairing: Idol Johnny Suh

*Genre: Fluff (There isn’t enough Johnny fluff these days, y’all some horny bitches)

*Plot idea: Most idols do indeed have a private twitter account where they like to see what their fans are talking about and interact with them secretly. Johnny was one of those idols. He loved seeing what NCTzens were up to and found it flattering how many times they called him daddy and offered to let him choke them. One day as he was scrolling through his twitter feed he saw a tweet that caught his eye. “Who has the biggest dick?” in the poll list was his name, so he commented. “Johnny of course.”

*Word count: 3,600

*Warnings: Cussing, a lot of dick talk, so cliche like this could never happen

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Were you really going to post this? Is twitter fame really worth it? You were contemplating as you laid on the floor of your bedroom. Did you have a perfectly comfortable bed two inches away from you? Yes, yes you did, but you evoked your bed privileges as you typed up the tweet you knew would give you likes and comments but throw your morals out of the window. Your finger hovered over the large post button. You groaned, the hand clutching your phone falling to the ground. “I can’t.” you finally decided. It’s sexualizing men and as a feminist at heart, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. What if some fanboy asked “Who has the biggest tits?” well the answer is Jihyo but ethically it isn’t right. He’d have his account suspended within hours. Even if your account is slowly dying you shouldn’t stoop so low. You looked up at the ceiling, your free hand resting on your stomach. You let out the long breath you didn’t know you were holding, since when did you become so desperate for the validation of people you’ve never even met in real life, so what if your follower numbers went down? So what if you’re only averaging fifteen likes per tweet? “That’s right? Why does it matter? It doesn’t… totally doesn’t.” You say to yourself, attempting to convince the voice in your head that is telling you to post the poll.

Maybe your finger slipped. Maybe you did it on purpose, you don’t really remember, the only thing you can see is your phone buzzing rapidly as the twitter notifications start coming. Within hours your “Who has the biggest dick?” Poll became your most viral tweet to date. With the options being Lucas, Johnny, Mingyu, and Mingi it was safe to say the comments were heated and the votes were split. You hated the fact that you liked seeing the likes and comments go up, were you a bad person for posting? Or are the people on twitter bad for engaging? You spent the rest of the night on your hardwood floor, bobby pins and wires digging into your back, but you deserved it. You even refused to look at your walls, too ashamed to face the NCT posters that were hung up neatly. Ever since you decided to join stan twitter you promised yourself you wouldn’t become one of those accounts who post just for attention, you just wanted to make friends who had the same interests as you. You got your first taste of twitter fame when you made a joke about idols having private twitters and seeing the horny tweets dedicated to them and it soon became addicting after that. Now that thought sent shivers down your spine and you prayed it wasn’t real as you have just become one of those thirsty tweets. Even as you close your eyes to sleep you can’t help but ignore the constant buzzing that came from your phone next to you. After a few moments of considering putting it on do not disturb you finally decided that is the best option. You lift your phone up, but before you can slide up to the options screen you see a comment that catches your eye. ‘Hands down Johnny of course’.

You tap on the account that posted the comment, the layout was borning and the username basic, but this person didn’t follow you and you didn’t follow them. You just shrug and go back to the comment, smiling softly despite yourself as you typed. ‘I don’t know… Have you seen Lucas’s hands?’ Lucas was currently winning with the votes and you couldn’t disagree, it makes sense. Not even five minutes after you replied you were sent a DM request from none other than the mysterious Johnny dick defender. ‘I think you’re mistaken, Johnny is definitely winning in that category ;)’ You couldn’t help but laugh, your thumbs gliding across the keyboard as you typed your response. ‘You’re very passionate about this, where’s your proof?’ You asked, waiting for his reply. ‘I think you just have to trust me on this one’ You scoffed and started to type, ‘My mom told me not to trust strangers on the internet’

‘Your mom is a smart woman. What’s your name?’

‘What makes you think I’ll tell you?’

‘Didn’t you join twitter to make friends? I can’t be your friend if I don’t know your name.’

‘I joined twitter to talk to more K-pop fans, I’m sorry but your coffee layout and username isn’t cutting it’

‘There what about now.’

You tilted your head slightly wondering what he changed his layout to and you had to stifle your laughter when you saw it. An entire layout of predebut Johnny and the username @John’sbigpenis. You covered your mouth, keeping your quiet giggles in as you went back to the chat, typing quickly with one hand.

‘Y/N’

‘It’s nice to meet you Y/N’

And just like that, you spent almost the entire night texting, you figured out his name is Jason and he just casually listened to K-pop but his friends were really into it and because he followed them your tweet landed on his feed. He was funny and had you smiling for so long your cheeks started to hurt, you haven’t had a conversation like this on twitter in awhile all of the group chats you joined slowly drying up, so this was a nice change. But eventually it became harder and harder for you to keep your eyes open, the light from the screen not helping. You finally had to say good night to Jason and within seconds of shutting your phone off you passed out, not even feeling the discomfort of the floor anymore.

The next morning the first thing you did was check your DM’s and couldn’t help but smile as you saw the unread message. ‘Not to be a creep or anything but I looked at your location on your profile and looked up your timezone. Good morning :)’ You sat up slowly, the blanket you were using falling down your body, so he was in a different timezone? ‘What time is it for you then? Also good morning ;)’ As you awaited his response you finally got up from your spot on the floor and threw the blanket you were using on your bed. You walked to your wall blindly as you wiped the sleep from your eyes and flipped the switch causing light to fill your room. You sighed as you looked at your bed, contemplating just going back to sleep but you could also smell the breakfast your mom was making down stairs so you decided to manage your priorities, eat breakfast then go back to bed. After that important decision was made you made your way down stairs and as predicted saw your mom in the kitchen cooking away. You said your good mornings and lifted yourself up so you were sitting on the counter of the island. Your mom used to complain about your ass being where the food goes but after she saw that you didn’t care she slowly stopped as well. As you were sitting and chatting you felt your phone go off from your pocket, you grabbed it and smiled as you saw his user pop up. “What are you smiling about?” your mom asked curiously her eyes glancing over at you for a moment before going back to mixing the pancake batter. “Oh,nothing, just a friend on twitter.” You say your attention is still stuck to your phone as you read the message ‘I am a few hours ahead of you , I live in Chicago! Born and raised.’ You almost didn’t hear your mom speak, “Y/N… you know I don’t like you talking to strangers on the internet. What if they’re some forty year old man who just wants your feet pics.” You just nod, having had this conversation more than once. “Mommm you know I’m smarter than that… I’d make him pay for my feet first. But for real, this is the only way I can talk to other people who like the same stuff I do, unless you want to listen to me talk about K-pop for hours on end I need to get it out somehow.” You said, raising your eyebrow as you gave your mom the ultimatum. “Make your money honey, it's your feet not mine.” and with that you grabbed your plate and started to eat.

‘Ahhh so is that why you’re so defensive over Johnny’s penis? Gotta save the reputation of Chicago boys?’

Just like that you ended up talking to Jason everyday for weeks. From morning to night you two never seemed to run out of things to talk about. Soon he knew more about you than your close friends did; it was so easy to talk to him and he said he felt the same with you. He was there for you when you were having a mental breakdown while trying to get NCT 127 concert tickets, he was there while you screamed about how hot every member looked in the new Kick It music video, especially the man that brought them together, A.K.A Johnny Suh, he was there for everything. After awhile it was safe to say you were falling for him.. Well at least his personality, you haven’t seen his face. He’s seen yours of course as he hyped up all of your selca days, you respected the fact he didn’t want to show you his face but as time went on you couldn’t help but get a bit nervous. What if he really is a forty year old man only after your feet? But all of that soon changed.

‘You got P1 tickets to the Chicago concert right?’ You read the text that was sent to you and tilted your head curiously. You were currently packing for the three day trip your mom and you were taking to Chicago. You unfortunately lived in a state that always had zero tour stops and the closest city was Chicago and this was the first time your mom agreed to letting you go since she knew how much you loved NCT. But you guys decided to make a trip out of it and would be staying for a couple days after the concert. You started to type with one hand, messily folding clothes with the other. ‘Yep! I’m packing right now! I’m so excited!!’ You said truthfully before going back to practically shoving your multiple outfits into the suitcase. After a few moments you felt a buzz, ‘I’m going too-’ You didn’t even finish reading the text before your eyes opened wide and your stomach did flips. Jason was going to be there!! As you slowly started rethinking your outfit choices you finished the text. ‘Do you wanna meet up? I know this 24/7 cafe close to the venue.. We can meet after the concert? If you want?’ You were confused at first, why meet up after the concert in a separate location, but just the idea of meeting him made you consider it. ‘Why not before the concert at the venue?’ You asked, wanting a valid reason to meet up late at night at a cafe. You now completely gave up on trying to pack as you impatiently waited for his response. ‘I can’t get there until right before the concert starts because of work and it's always too crazy in the venue after. I understand if you’re not comfortable with it.. I just… really want to meet you.’ Just that line right there made your heart skip a beat. ‘I’ll ask my mom.’

It took quite a lot of convincing, your mom not liking the idea of meeting a stranger you met online one bit. But she also knew you were a responsible Young adult and always had your phone on you, plus she would be right there in case anything did happen. So finally you got the greenlight to meet him. You could barely believe it, not only were you going to see NCT 127 and go through Hi touch, you were going to meet the internet friend that you have been talking to everyday for a couple of months now.

~

You always knew that there were buildings in Chicago, but you didn’t expect them to be THIS big. It was the day of the concert and your mom and you were only a few minutes away from your hotel and you couldn’t wait until later tonight. Only a few more hours. You spent the majority of that time getting ready, you wore your favorite outfit and spent an extra long time on your make-up, making sure you didn’t look like you just got done with a nine hour car ride. The time went by fast yet slow, the feeling was weird, you couldn’t believe this was all actually happening. Yet soon enough you were in line to have your tickets scanned to enter the concert venue. You achieved the wristband for P1 and attempted the merch line but ended up having to say screw it as the concert was starting in ten minutes. You made it to your seat right before the room went dark and then it started.

Throughout the concert you were singing and dancing and crying, you were feeling so many emotions at once and you never wanted it to stop. You were too caught in the moment to notice the eyes that were on you almost every chance they got, he also couldn’t believe this was happening. As the final song played and you found yourself tearing up once again you looked for the man who started it all between you and Jason. You found Johnny singing on stage, was he…. Was he looking at you? Nah he's probably just scanning the crowd like most artists did, but you still couldn’t ignore the feelings his glance gave you.

You were in the line for Hi-touch, your hair and makeup miraculously still decent looking as you started walking forwards, following the people in front of you. In just a few moments they were right there, the only thing separating you was the table they sat behind. They looked the same as they did on your screen but in a way ten times better, they were real and your hand was touching theirs. You didn’t really know what to say and you didn’t have the time to say much, so you stuck with a simple hello and a smile. You approached the last member, Johnny was watching you the entire time you walked down, he just held up his hand and muttered 'heyas’ as you got closer. This was the first time he'd seen you up close and he had the same feeling you Had. Your pictures are beautiful but something about seeing you in real life was so much better. Your eyes met his as you had to reach up a bit more to touch his hand, he smiled down at you, not able to say anything before you had to move on and walk out of the building.

After recollecting yourself and fixing up your runny mascara from crying too much you and your mom headed to the cafe to meet Jason. Many thoughts swam through your head most of them just not able to get over how amazing they all looked up close but the rest were nerves on meeting the man you’ve grown to have feelings for. You reached the cafe and got out of the car, letting out a nervous breath as you walked in, the shop was empty and the worker behind the counter was almost asleep and jolted awake as you stepped in. You ordered a green tea because you felt like you should order something and not just sit down like a total bitch. After a few minutes your phone buzzed. ‘I’m on my way,, sorry I’m late. got caught in traffic.’ The butterflies in your stomach only grew in numbers as you replied, ‘I’m here, sitting in the back’.

You were sipping on your tea as you heard the door behind you open. You were too scared to face the door so you sat with your back to it, but only when it opened did you realize that it was much more nerve wracking. You couldn’t even turn around your hands shaking as you took deep breaths, you could hear footsteps approaching, Jason was here… and right behind you. He walked around your seat and sat across from you, you were too scared to lift your head so instead you stared at his chest. “Y/N?” his voice was deep… and familiar? You looked up and out of shock from what you saw your hot tea slipped right out of your hands. You hissed softly and reached for napkins but the man in front of you was quicker, he ran to your side and knelt down, using his sleeve to wipe your lap. “Sorry.. Should’ve thought that through.” He said with a small laugh. “You’re… Jason?” you asked, unable to believe it even if you were looking right at him. “Actually… my name's Johnny and we just high-fived like half an hour ago and I can explain everything.”

~

“So.. You have a private twitter and you found my tweet and commented as a joke but decided to start a conversation with me?” You asked, looking at the idol in front of you. You’ve pinched yourself at least ten times now but everytime hurts more than the last so it can’t be a dream. “I start casual conversations here and there with fans just to see how they’re doing but you’re just… different.” He said. He had on a black baseball cap that was lowered over his face so no one walking past could recognize him. “As we started talking more.. I started looking forward to talking to you and you practically got me through this comeback season, when I was stressed and tired, just talking to you let me take my mind off things… I dunno.. I think I really like you.” You were at a loss of words as you listened to Johnny speak. Were you trapped in some tumblr fanfiction? This can’t really be happening. “I… I really liked talking to you too… you were the first person I opened up to. Whether it was Jason or Johnny I’m really thankful for having them to rant to and if the person I was talking to really you… then I think I like you too.” You said softly and even behind the hat you could see Johnny smile. He moved over to your side of the booth and you scooted to give him some room. “Since we both think we like each other… Why don’t we kiss and find out?” He asked cheesily before leaning in, naturally you closed your eyes and when you felt his lips press against yours it finally set in that this was all real. You were kissing Johnny Suh from NCT, Johnny Suh was kissing you. You moved closer, placing your hands on his sides as his moved to the back of your neck, holding you gently as he allowed the kiss to last for a few more seconds before pulling away. “So… Do you know for sure yet? Because we can do that again if we need to.” He said playfully and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Just to make sure,” You whispered before grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and pulling him into another sweet kiss. He smiled against your lips, chuckling softly as he fully wraps his long arms around you. “Yeah… I definitely like you.” You said breathlessly as you pulled away and he nodded quickly in agreement. “Me too.” he said with a large smile. “You said you're here for a couple more days? Do you maybe wanna go on a date tomorrow? We don’t leave for the next venue until tomorrow night so we have all day.” He offered. You nodded, not planning on turning down THE Johnny Suh. “It’s a date.” You said softly and he couldn’t help but smile and kiss your cheek, and your nose, and finally your lips, “We have two months to make up for in one day.. I’m gonna make it count.” He said, his large body clinging on to you even when you weren’t kissing, and you definitely weren't complaining. But as you two were sitting there, you in his arms and head on his chest you thought of something.

“Wait a minute… if you weren’t in Chicago but Korea when texting me… When did you sleep??” You asked, looking up at him with concerned eyes and Johnny just laughed and tightened his arms around you. “Shhh… It was worth it.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ahhhh! Sorry for the delay,, I started this one and I just wasn’t feeling it for the longest time, when I write dialogue I focus on body language so majority of this scenario being text was totally out of my comfort zone! But I hope you guys like this one! And thank you so much for the love on my first post it means a lot!

[harrysmanystyles]

“are you sure about that?”

A/N: I just was really in the mood for frat boy harry okay

The day had been off from the moment I woke up. My stomach churned at the thought of the events the day coming about, and as I walked into my Philosophy class that morning and locked eyes with him, I felt it. The spark. And as much as I tried to resist it, the feeling demanded to be felt. Quickly, I turned around and sat in my normal seat, waiting for him to take his usual seat next to me. It was a routine, one that I had grown comfortable with. Although being around Harry made me feel things I didn’t necessarily want to feel, his company was somewhat entertaining and familiar.

Moments later, he plops down in the seat next to me, immediately grabbing my notebook to see what I was so intently staring at. “This is a blank page,” he teases, flopping it back onto my desk. I give him a small smile.

“Sorry, I’m just feeling a bit distracted, thats all,” I say, tucking my hair behind my ears, a nervous habit I’ve grown into since coming to college. Harry notices, he notices everything.

“Calm down, love, that was meant to be a joke.” He gives me a look, and glances at the professor who’s getting ready to start the lecture. “You’re still coming tonight, right?” He asks, his eyes hopeful. How could I ever say no? When I nod, a triumphant grin takes over his features. Harry is a hard person to say no to, and at times he can be manipulative to get what he wants. I’m sure he’s used that tactic multiple times on many girls just like me. Hence, why I have no interest in catching any feelings for him, I will not be just another conquest. My heart has been broken too many times before.

Harry and I have been friends for a little while now. We both ended up in the same philosophy class for the semester, and somehow, he weaseled his way into studying with me. Last week, he asked me to come to a party him and his friends were throwing at their house over the weekend. He claimed that I need to ‘let loose’ and ‘enjoy myself a little’. I rolled my eyes, but agreed to it nonetheless. What else was I going to do? The last few weekends I’ve spent studying holed up in my room, and he knew that.

The professor starts lecturing, and it startles me out of my trance. I begin to take notes like I always do, and as my pen scribbles on my paper I can feel his eyes on me, taking in my every move. I ignore him, pretending like I don’t notice, and eventually he turns to face the front, a sigh escaping his lips.

When the class finishes, we both stand at the same time, nearly knocking each other over. He grabs my arms before I fall back into my seat. “These seats are way too close together,” he remarks, releasing me from his grasp once he sees I’ve regained my balance.

“Thanks,” I mumble, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. I grab my backpack and turn to leave when he grabs my arm.

“See you tonight,” he smirks, and with that, turns and walks away, leaving me with the burning sensation of where his hand gripped my arm and a bundle of nerves dwindling in my stomach.

-

Its quarter to 11 when my roommate, Rose, and I walk up the sidewalk to the front door of Harry’s house. The house is shaking from the music, and there are people spilling out the front windows. This should be interesting. I pull down my uncomfortably tight skirt that Rose forced me to wear, feeling a bit overdressed for a house party. I look over at her, “What?” She says.

“This was a bad idea, I should have stayed home. What if—“ She cuts me off.

“What if nothing. You look hot, and Harry invited you for you to have fun. You can’t just stay cooped up in our apartment all the time, it’s not good for you.” She gives me a smirk, grabs my hand, and pulls me into the house. She knows my mixed emotions towards him, and she wants to see how the night is going to play out. Deep down, so do I, but I’m afraid of what’s to come. I roll my eyes as we stumble past the front door. I’m immediately hit by a wave of musty heat, and I crinkle my nose in disgust. What is this? A frat party? “Come on, let’s go get a drink!” Rose shouts over the music, and I nod in agreement. I’m definitely going to need a drink to get me through the night. Scratch that, I’ll need way more than one.

We head over to the kitchen to find that the island is covered with bottles of opened and unopened liquor and mixers. I grab a solo cup and begin to mix myself a drink. “Whoa, slow down there,” I hear his voice in front of me, and look up to see him standing a mere 6 inches away. My voice catches in my throat, but the second I take a drink out of my cup, I regain my confidence. I feel his eyes raking down my body, a twinge of lust in his gaze. Well, I guess the outfit did its job. I clear my throat, pulling him back to reality.

“Don’t let me have more than five of these,” I point at him jokingly and give him a knowing look, taking another big swig. I need to be at least a little drunk for this conversation. He laughs and shakes his head in fake disappointment.

“No promises, remember? You’re letting loose tonight,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Mhm, yeah, I don’t remember saying that?” I say, a small grin on my lips. He laughs and opens his mouth to respond, but Rose cuts him off.

“I think we need to go dance,” she says, pouring more liquor in both of our cups, and then dragging me to the dance floor. Well, the living room. I look back to see if Harry was still there, and yes he was, staring at me with a not quite smirk on his lips. I felt a blush come on, and immediately turned around.

It felt like I’d been there for hours. Dancing, pouring more alcohol, then dancing some more. The room wasn’t quite spinning, but one more drink and it would be. “I need the bathroom!” I yell over the pounding music.

“What?” Rose responds, and I shake my head.

“I’ll be right back,” I say, and as I turn to leave I notice Rose is dancing with Harry’s friend. I knew it would happen, it was just a matter of time. She’s had eyes for him all year, and when she sets her sight on someone, she always finishes. Can’t wait to wake up with him in my kitchen tomorrow morning.

I squeeze through the crowd toward the back of the house, where there’s a staircase that leads upstairs. There has to be a bathroom up there, right? I stumble up the steps and open the door to the first room I find. Immediately hearing moans, I slam the door shut without even looking to see who it was. Gross, lock the door next time please. I move to another room down the hall. The door flies open to reveal Harry laying on his bed, his head whips to my direction, and a smirk overtakes his features. “Well hello to you too,” he says, sitting up in his bed. The drunkness in me tells me to go inside, and I listen. What are you doing?

“Sorry, I was just looking for the bathroom. I—“

“You look like you’ve definitely had more than five,” Harry chuckles. He stands from his bed and makes his way over to me. I go to walk toward him, and trip over the chair sitting at his desk. Shit, I really should have been keeping track. Harry grabs me, and once I’m steadied, I take one look at his face and pull away. This is exactly the situation I didn’t want to end up in tonight. “That’s the second time I’ve saved you from your own clumsiness today. Shall we start keeping count?” He jokes.

“Ha ha, very funny,” I say sarcastically, avoiding his face. I know the second we make eye contact, I’ll just melt. And thats exactly what he wants. “Why are you even up here? The party is downstairs, not in your room,” God, why do I sound like such a dumbass right now?

“I just needed a break, it gets a bit too loud for my liking, so I come up here to let my head settle,” he answers. I nod, and stare at my feet, unsure of what to say or do next. The pounding music vibrates through the walls of his surprisingly clean bedroom, and I feel my heartbeat quicken in my chest just at the sound of his breath a few feet in front of me. I look up at him. His eyes lock with mine, and my heart feels as if it’s about to burst. Unintentionally, my eyes widen at the sight of his beautiful features. When I’m drunk, everything is heightened. My sensitivity to his presence and the effect his bone structure has on me is unintentional and unwanted. I watch his hands as he cracks his knuckles and he chuckles when he sees my response to his mere being. The curves of his soft, pink lips call out to mine as he says, “you okay?” I can hear the smirk in his voice. The effect he has on me is unnatural, and as much as I try to resist him, I can’t. 

"I don't feel anything for you, you know," I blurt out randomly and confidently. “So whatever you think you’re doing here, it’s not working.” Well, it sounded much more confident in my head than it did when I said it aloud. Where did that even come from? He asked me if I was okay, not if I was in love with him. This was more of an attempt to convince myself than him. If I could say it out loud, maybe that would make it true. His laugh rolls deeply in his chest, and he takes a step closer. I take a step back.

"Are you sure about that?" Another step closer. Another step back. His eyes burn holes into mine as he walks, and I become afraid of what little control I have over myself in this moment. Who just blurts something like that out randomly? Crazy people, thats who. I feel myself becoming overpowered by his figure, but still try to defend my useless attempts denying my feelings. 

"Y-yes," I say, it was meant to be a statement, though it came out as more of a question. Another step forward. Another step back. I stumble backward until my back hits the wall. Trapped, with nowhere to go. A reckless smirk overtakes his beautiful features as he takes his last step towards me. 

With only centimeters between us, he bends down so his face is level with mine, fists like pillars securely fastened on the wall above my head. His uneven breaths fan over my face, and the immediate smell of what I have come to realize is his regularly chewed spearmint gum mixed with vodka fill my nostrils. I take in a shaky breath. I’ve never been this close to him, and my fuzzy thoughts are attempting to make sense of what’s happening. I feel something in me shift, almost as if my confidence decided to make its presence known in my moment of weakness. 

"Because it really doesn't seem that way," he taunts, his jade eyes peering into my brown ones. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears as his gaze intensifies. Every bone in my body tells me to resist him, but I swallow back the nerves rising in my throat, grab him by the collar of his shirt, and crash my lips into his.

[sylvanfreckles]

Hallucinations (FebuWhump 11)

Fandom: Supernatural

Summary: When Cas chose to be human to stay with Dean they all knew he'd have a hard road ahead adjusting to his new life. Sam is only now discovering just how hard that road is.

(Look, I had a rough day, I needed some self-indulgent angsty destiel fluff. You know how it is.)

(Read on AO3)

* * *

The first time Sam realized something was wrong, he'd followed the sound of frying bacon into the bunker's kitchen, not at all surprised to find his brother at the stove. Dean glanced back over his shoulder. “Hey, Sammy. What time you guys get in?”

“After two,” Sam groaned. There was a full carafe of coffee next to a stack of clean mugs, and he eagerly poured a mug for himself and contemplated just sticking his face in. “We miss anything?”

“Eh, same old-same old,” Dean shrugged. He twisted to slide the bacon out of the pan onto a plate on the kitchen island behind and Sam nearly spat out a mouthful of coffee in shock.

“Dude, what the hell happened?” Sam blurted. At Dean's questioning glance he pointed to the side of his face—the same spot where Dean had a dark bruise spreading across his cheekbone.

“Oh,” shaking his head dismissively, Dean turned back around to peek at something in the oven. “Cas.”

This time Sam tried to swallow the coffee, but it was a little too hot and a little too much and he ended up coughing and pounding at his sternum to try to clear his throat. “Cas?”

There was just no way. Castiel, former angel-of-the-lord, who'd given up nearly limitless power to live a quiet, human life with Dean. Cas, who Sam had caught smuggling spiders out of the bunker instead of killing them. The one who'd come home without his coat more often than not because he always saw someone who needed it more. There was no way he was hurting Dean...was there?

“Don't go all Lifetime movie on me, Sammy,” Dean complained. “Dude had a nightmare and woke up swinging. I didn't duck in time, that's all.”

“Dean...”

“Don't make it a big deal,” the older Winchester snapped, pointing a spatula at his brother. “He's been through enough shit in his life, he doesn't need you piling more guilt on him.”

Sam held his free hand up and backed away to lean against the counter. “Does it...does that happen a lot?”

“Comes and goes,” Dean shrugged. “Not like he can help it.” He tugged a tray of cinnamon rolls out of the oven and dropped them on the stovetop. “Hey, let Cas and Eileen know breakfast's ready, all right?”

“We need to talk about this, Dean.”

“We always need to talk about everything,” he retorted. “It's fine, Sam. I'm fine, Cas's fine, you're fine. I'd say Eileen's fine but you'd get the wrong idea and beat my ass.”

Sam snorted. “Real mature, dude.”

“Yeah, but you love me for it,” Dean grinned and winked. “Now shoo, you know how Eileen gets when the bacon gets cold.”

* * *

The second time, Sam had found an opportunity to have a private talk with Cas about everything. Dean and Eileen were holed up in the training room sparring—she needed to test her skills against a stronger opponent, and he always welcomed the chance to try to match her speed. Cas was sitting sideways on one of the couches on the balcony overlooking the war room, an Audubon guide to birds open in his lap.

“Hey, man, can we talk for a second?”

Cas flinched and tried to cover it up with a smile, pulling his legs in so Sam had room to sit down. “Of course. I always enjoy...talking to you.”

Sam tried to smile when he sat down, though Cas's first reaction had him concerned. “I just wanted to know how you're handling things. Being human, being here with Dean, stuff like that.”

The dark-haired man's eyes lowered, focusing on the way his finger traced the edges of the pages of the book he was holding. “I'm satisfied with my choice, Sam. I will never regret choosing your brother.”

“That's not what I mean,” Sam shook his head and turned in his seat so he was facing Cas. “I mean life, emotions...frustration? Anger? You haven't always had a great track record with that kind of stuff.”

Cas wouldn't meet his eyes. He closed his birdwatching guide and hugged it close to his chest, drawing up his knees so he was curled on the end of the couch as far away from Sam as he could get. God, he looked like he was ready to make a run for it. “This is about Dean?”

Sam let out a sigh. “It's about both of you. Look, you've only been human for a few months, and Dean's never had a long-term partner before. I just want to make sure things are...okay?”

“It was a mistake,” Cas replied. He finally looked up at Sam, his expression twisted with grief. “I didn't know...I didn't know he was there, and I thought I was...”

Dammit, this wasn't how Sam wanted this talk to go. He'd just meant to have a lighthearted conversation, make sure Cas was coping with humanity (and Dean), maybe pass on some tips for battling the nightmares. Instead he was about to make his pseudo-brother-in-law cry (really, the handfasting ceremony had been lovely, but with both spouses legally dead there was no way Sam or Dean were actually married).

“Hey, hey, it's okay,” Sam leaned forward and rested one hand on the other man's knee. “I know it was an accident. I just wanted to know if there was any way I could help.”

Cas's shoulders relaxed, but he shook his head. “I'm fine, Sam.”

* * *

The third time, they'd been trying to have a movie night. Dean had apparently been teaching himself ASL while Sam and Eileen were gone, though he'd only learned obscene phrases and jokes at Sam's expense. They were watching some mindless action flick, the kind where the cars had stunt doubles, the men had muscles bursting out of their sleeves, and the women wore scandalously impractical clothing for all the fist-fighting they were doing on the backs of eighteen-wheelers.

The hero of the story had taken a two-by-four to the jaw, and miraculously walked away with nothing worse than a couple of cracked molars. But it seemed the villains had infiltrated the friendly neighborhood dentist, and as soon as the hero showed up to have his teeth repaired they had him tied down to the chair in the exam room.

Dean lunged for the remote and snapped the television off. “Shit. Hey, Sunshine, you okay?”

Cas was staring ahead blankly. His hands, resting on his knees, were coiled into fists, his jaw clenched so tightly a muscle was twitching. Dean frantically waved Sam and Eileen away and knelt on the floor in front of Cas, looking up at him but not touching.

“You're here with me,” Dean said calmly. “Come on, man. Come back to me. I'm right here in front of you.”

Sam could see that Cas was shaking. He moved to grab the blanket from the back of the couch but Dean shook his head. “Don't touch him. He doesn't know we're here right now.”

The younger Winchester hesitated. “Do you want some water?”

“Shh!” Dean hissed. “He knows me. He can follow me back.”

Wrapping his arms around his stomach, Sam settled on the arm of one of the big recliners. Eileen leaned against him and he moved one arm to wrap around her shoulders, resting his chin on top of her head.

“I'm still here, Sunshine. You know me. You found my soul in the pits of Hell, you can find your way back out of this.”

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. Then something in Cas's eyes changed, like he was actually focusing on the world in front of him. Dean broke into a broad smile. “There's my Sunshine.”

Cas stared at him, then down to where his hands were curled into fists. “I don't...”

“Hey,” Dean held his hands up, hovering just a few inches over Cas's knees. “Okay to touch?”

The former angel stared at Dean's hands blankly for a moment, then threw himself off the couch into Dean's arms, hands clutching at the back of Dean's shirt hard enough that Sam could see the fabric crease from where he was sitting.

“Whoa, that's a yes,” Dean teased. “I'm still here, Sunshine. Right here.”

* * *

Sam finally cornered Dean after, when Cas had retreated to deal with the aftermath of his...episode...in private. “You call that fine?”

Dean sighed, his face suddenly lined with exhaustion. “Can you blame him? Dude's been through more shit than we'll ever see in our lifetimes, he's gonna have some blips here and there.”

“'Blips'?” Sam raked a hand through his hair. “Dean, he was catatonic.”

“Ah,” Dean held a finger up. “We call it Cas-atonic.”

“This isn't funny, Dean!”

“You think I don't know that?” Dean flung his arm out, gesturing vaguely toward the dormitories. “You think I don't wonder if he might not make it out some time? Jesus, Sammy, I like the nights he wakes up swinging. Sure as hell beats the nights he screams me awake and I can't break him out of the hell inside his head.”

Sam flinched and looked down. “Is it really that bad?” he asked quietly.

Dean let out a sigh and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “We're working on it. I'm starting to catch on to triggers, sometimes we can head them off. He Skypes with Mia every couple weeks, that's helping.”

“Mia?” Sam raised his eyebrows. “Isn't she the...”

“Shapeshifter therapist, yeah. Figured she might be the only one who'd understand the angel stuff was the normal bit.”

Sam nodded and folded his arms, leaning back against the wall. “And 'Sunshine'?”

Dean's cheeks reddened and he turned away to fiddle with something on the library table. “We needed a name. Something no one else called him, something from now. He said I called him that once and he liked it...but it's not something the rest of the angels knew about. So if he hears me call him Sunshine he knows he's here now, not back in...not back then.”

He wanted to ask when 'then' was, but his brother's body language was closing down. So Sam rubbed his hands together and pushed himself up instead. “Well, hey, what kind of movies are safest for him? We can have a do-over for movie night.”

His brother groaned. “How do you feel about rom-coms without an alpha bitch?”

* * *

The fourth time took Sam completely by surprise. They'd made a trip out to a secondhand bookstore—Dean and Eileen had squabbled the entire way over whether this was a double date or not, with Cas innocently suggesting that a date required food and Dean had promised he could pick the restaurant, and Sam stoutly refusing to take any part in the discussion—and it had started out as a nice trip. The bookstore was massive, so while Sam was looking for some older reference books (they were still replacing some of the volumes that had been damaged when the Stines infiltrated the bunker), Eileen looked for more practical map books and travel guides.

Cas had dragged Dean off to look at the nature section. He was fascinated with the ways humans categorized their world, and he and Dean had rearranged the library so Cas had an entire shelf for his motley collection of well-thumbed nature books.

“Oh, here, Sammy, carry mine,” Dean called as they were leaving, thrusting his bag at Sam.

“Carry your own,” Sam retorted, shoving them back. His bags were heavy enough, between what he and Eileen had picked out.

“They're not even mine, they're Cas's,” Dean shot back. “Don't you love your brother-in-law?”

“Don't you love your husband?” Sam shoved the bag back at Dean. Eileen walked between them at the moment and snatched both Dean's bag and Sam's bags.

She made eye contact with Cas and rolled her eyes. “Boys,” she announced haughtily, stepping into the street to cross toward the parking lot where Dean had left the Impala.

“Whoa, hey,” Sam caught her shoulder and tugged her back just as a sports car screamed around the corner, tires squealing. The driver hit a patch of gravel and spun out for a minute, scattering pieces of rock before their tires had traction again and the swerved off down the narrow road.

Eileen signed something rude in the direction of the speeding car. Sam mentally agreed, but checked over his shoulder to make sure Dean hadn't seen that particular phrase.

Dean was on the ground, Cas curled on top of him. The dark-haired man was completely rigid, arms and legs wrapped around Dean's body to hold him still, Dean's head tucked under his chin.

“Dean?”

“I'm okay,” Dean's muffled voice called. “Stay back...keep everyone back.”

Sam glanced around. The patio in front of the bookstore was basically deserted, and there were only one or two customers milling around inside the store.

“I'm okay, Sunshine.” Sam couldn't see Dean's face from here, though from the muffled tone he imagined it was pressed into Cas's chest. “I'm safe and you're safe. We're all here with you, Sunshine.”

Cas shuddered. “I can't...”

“Hey, hey, it's okay,” Dean managed to snake an arm out and wrap his hand around Cas's upper arm. “I'm right here. I love you, Sunshine. Remember?”

Cas's face crumpled and he went limp, and Dean slowly sat up and shifted them both so that Cas was sitting with his forehead resting on Dean's shoulder. “We're going home now,” Dean told him, rubbing a hand up and down Cas's back. “Eileen said she's gonna cook dinner tonight,” he added, winking up at Eileen.

She sank to a crouch and waited for Cas to look up at her. “Vegetarian chili.”

Dean gave a loud, theatrical groan that actually brought a faint smile to Cas's face. “Vegetarian?” he whined.

“You love it,” she teased back with her own wink. “You can make extra bacon in the morning.”

“Deal,” Dean pushed himself to his feet and held a hand down to help Cas up. “Let's go home, Sunshine.”

* * *

I hesitated about the I love you part, but I figured Dean knew that was one of the "now" phrases that would help Cas remember where and when he is.

It's past my bedtime. I hope you enjoyed my self-indulgent fluff and maybe some day I'll write a story where Cas is the partner taking care of Dean...although that's not my style :D

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

two years too late, chapter o n e 

You were waiting for the subway when you got the text. It was a typical Thursday evening in a wintry New York City. A brown-stained slush seemed to line the floors of the train and too many people were too close beside you when you read the message for the fourteenth time. 

I know it’s last minute and it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other but I have a show in New York tonight. Would love to see you if you’re free. Xx H

That part of your life had long been over. The last time you spoke to Harry was some time in 2015 when he showed up at a Christmas party that your school friends had thrown together. Everyone seemed to fawn all over him like he was some type of God--but not you.

It was shitty, really, the way your friendship ended. You’d been close throughout the classes you’d shared and you had plenty of laughs together at co-ed birthday parties when you were both still awkward and fourteen. 

But by the time you’d realized that he was the type of person you’d actually maybe have feelings for, he’d found his way onto the X-Factor and there were plenty of girls who he’d rather shag than the random girl in his friend group who wasn’t all that funny or all that pretty or all that anything. At least, that was the way you saw it. 

How did he even know you lived here? You tried to trace through your last conversations with him that occurred in Kenny Tilley’s mum’s house. Sure, you’d maybe mentioned that New York was a cool place to live or something--especially if Harry had mentioned all the time he was spending there for work. But you had no idea you’d end up here two whole years ago. So how--in the middle of a snow storm that was taking over the Financial District--did Harry know how to get in touch with you? 

You’d come up with three different answers by the time you walked back into your apartment, ranked from most realistic to least realistic as following:

He’d somehow followed along your life through social media and saw that you often tagged photos in New York.

He asked Bryn or Jessie or even maybe Adam or Jake and one of them had mentioned you lived in New York. 

He googled you. 

Okay, definitely not that one. 

The door to your apartment latched behind you and there was music coming from the kitchen. Alyssa, your roommate, was often home before you, her bra flung onto the couch before she opened a bottle of wine and started cooking. 

Tonight wasn’t any different. She swiveled her head around to see you when she heard you come in. “Hi,” a smile twisted her lips towards the sky as she wiped her hands on the dish towel she held. “How bad is it out there?”

“Terrible,” you said, your fingers finding the metal of your jacket zipper and pulling it towards the  floor. “The subways are crowded and everyone’s acting like it’s Armageddon.” 

She let out a laugh and turned her back to you now, minding whatever was on the stove. “‘S’gonna be bad, I guess. News-4 is saying up to eight inches locally.”

You rolled your eyes and shrugged your jacket onto the ground, letting a groan escape your lips. While the weather might not have been bad for native New Yorkers, it was more than you were used to in Cranage. And besides, when you first moved in, Alyssa told you it never even snowed in December. 

But now she turned her head to eye you suspiciously. She stirred something on the burner but then abandoned it, coming to join you in the  living room as you set your bag down on an armchair and tried to kick off your boots. 

“Okay--you seem miserable. Bad meeting about weekly topics?”

“No,” the word fell out of your mouth as you used your toes to push the leather of your shoe down your ankle. “But it was a stupid meeting.”

She laughed at this, her eyebrows raised as you let your body slump onto the couch. “So what is it?”

“You know Harry?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You mean your high school friend who’s incredibly famous?”

Another roll of your eyes as you let a sharp exhale escape your lips. Alyssa laughed at this. For whatever reason, she found your feelings towards Harry to be remarkably entertaining. She knew the history--or the lack thereof--and she still somehow managed to get a good kick out of any and every (albeit the few) conversations that had anything to do with him. 

“Yes, him.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, sneaking a peek over her shoulder to make sure whatever she was cooking didn’t need her immediate attention. You knew she was growing impatient. 

“He texted me.”

Her eyes grew wide and she moved forward to sit on the couch. “He texted you? I thought you don’t even talk!”

“We don’t,” you shrugged. “He invited me to a concert.”

“His concert?” Her face was excited and her voice was an octave higher than it usually was. 

“I dunno,” you closed your eyes and leaned your head back. If your weekly topics meeting and commute home hadn’t been bad enough, this was definitely the last straw in an already shitty day. 

You’d been writing the List category for the entirety of your 9 month employment at the online pop culture news site, The Scoop. Writing about the top ten fashion trends of the season or the 15 best self-care ideas for a snow day was way better than freelance work that a lot of your uni friends were doing, but you’d long had the itch to contribute to more compelling pieces. 

Some of your coworkers were covering real news. Campus sexual assault cases. Music industry myths. Even the long standing feud between Camila Cabello and her ex-bandmates felt more compelling than the best women’s razors. 

“You don’t know who’s concert he invited you to?”

“Here,” you shoved your phone towards her after reopening the message. “I don’t even know how he has my new number.”

“Oh my god,” she read the words over and then lifted her eyes to settle on your unimpressed glare, reigning in her emotions so as to not piss you off any more. “I mean, do you think you’ll answer?”

“What am I supposed to say? Sure? Be right there? I don’t even know where it is. Could be Long Island City, for all I know. I am not going there with this shit storm,” you pointed out the window at the snowflakes that now seemed to be more like nickels instead of pennies. 

“Okay, I doubt that Harry Styles would be performing in Long Island City, number one. Number two, when was the last time you saw him? Wouldn’t it be fun to reconnect?”

When you didn’t answer immediately, she got up to head back towards the stove, likely answering her own question with the smirk on her face. 

It’s not that seeing him would be miserable. It’s just that you were used to seeing him with other people around and the last time you saw him had been incredibly, well, awkward. 

“You weren’t at Kenny Tilley’s house two Christmases ago, clearly.”

“Clearly not,” she mocked your accent. “Because you’ve never really told me what happened.”

“It was nothing,” you said, reaching for your phone and reading over his words once more. “I was drunk and he was drunk and it was just stupid.”

“Did you hook up with him?!” She asked excitedly, holding up a wooden spoon as she waited for your response. 

“What? No! We didn’t hook up--we’ve never hooked up. But I was drunk enough that I probably would have, which is why I can’t see him!”

“Oh come on,” she chastised as you stood from the couch. You padded towards her, thankful for the warmth of the apartment and the scent of whatever meal she was prepping. “Sounds like you’re being childish.”

“M’not,” you said with a serious face. “It would be so fucking awkward.”

“Or,” she looked back down at what was in the pot--which appeared to be some sort of stew--and tilted her head. “You could totally have a killer comeback and it could be not at all awkward and you’ll undo any embarrassment that occurred that night.”

She reached for a wine glass from the cabinet for you. 

“I dunno,” you said, almost defeated. Alyssa’s words had sparked some type of naive hope in your heart that you could get things sorted. Maybe he didn’t even remember (unlikely). Maybe he didn’t care (somewhat likely). Maybe he was just being nice because you ran in the same circle back home and you were the only one living in New York (very likely).  

Or maybe it wouldn’t be that weird. You lifted your glass for her to pour some wine. When she set the bottle back on the counter, she spoke. 

“Just ask him where it is, Y/N. That’s totally reasonable! We’re not going to Brooklyn or Inwood or even the Upper East Side. But if it’s Midtown or something we could totally make it happen.”

You sighed, eyeing your phone on the counter. 

“Fine. Okay. I’ll just do some information gathering.”

She hummed to herself quietly as she tasted the stew, clearly pleased with her pushing. 

You thumbed out a response.  

Hi, thanks for the invite! Whereabouts is it?

“Whereabouts? How old are you, sixty-three?” Alyssa stifled a laugh when you read it aloud.

“Oh come on! I don’t even want to go or see him or any of it. I’m basically asking to feel like an idiot.”

“Or you--or we, if you get a plus one,” she waved a hand in the air as if she was totally feeling indifferent about going--you knew her well enough to know she was dying to tag along. “We could go and make the best of it and there’d probably be free food and alcohol. And besides, how often do you get to go to a free concert for a hugely popular music act?”

You rolled your eyes at that one. You’d been to four One Direction concerts with your friends whenever they had a show in London. You’d get to be backstage, visit with the rest of the band. It was fun and cool and only made you feel even more stupid for thinking that Harry actually ever saw something in you. 

The truth was this: the more famous he got, the less you saw him. He found new friends and had a new house in a new city and was soon too busy to even reply in the group chat. So you started one without him. 

Your phone buzzed in your hand and Alyssa nearly dropped her spoon.

It’s at Spotify, it’s a live recording thing. No worries if you’re busy, but it’s 8pm.

Another text came through immediately with a red pin on the map. 

150 Greenwich St 62nd Floor, New York, NY 10007. 

“I mean, no worries, like he said. But that’s like a ten minute Uber away. Twenty on the subway, tops.”

“Thirty in this weather,” you corrected.

“So we’re going?” She clapped her hands excitedly and grinned in your direction.

“Relax, will you?” She flinched at this, making some kind of face to let you know you’d offended her somewhat. “This isn’t some chick flick where we’re about to finish this bottle of wine and have a magical night with him.”

“Uh,” she looked around the room, finally landing her eyes on your face. “Sounds like it could be exactly that.”

When Alyssa turned her back to tend to dinner once more, you typed a response and sent it before she could get her hands on it. 

See you then!

**

The snow hadn’t let up. If anything, the wind had gotten worse and the snowflakes had graduated to quarters--wet and heavy as they fell on top of the hat you wore. 

“I thought it never snowed in December?” You questioned her--recalling the day you moved in last April. A year in to your post-grad life had left you bored in London, ready for a change of scenery and a leap of faith. An opening at The Scoop and a wine-induced confidence had you clicking the submit button on your application after Adam had given you a pep-talk via text. 

“It doesn’t usually,” she said, trailing behind you down Cortland Street. The roads were still busy, but the blanket of white on the ground seemed to quiet the ever-present noises of the city. “Global warming’s a thing, you know.”

She was right, but you didn’t reply. You reached for your phone in your pocket and verified that you were heading in the right direction. It was 7:51pm. After dinner and a quick shower, you were both out the door to trudge through the slushy sidewalks and meet up with Erica: the woman Harry said would be waiting for you upon your arrival. 

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m with you?” Alyssa asked, snowflakes turning to water when they made contact with the hood of her jacket. 

“S’fine. I don’t think there’s like--a list or something.”

She’d been upset that you hadn’t asked if she could come. But she was clearly missing the fact that if she wasn’t going, neither were you. You weren’t about to show up to Harry’s gig flying solo and face the impending awkwardness alone. 

You crossed Church Street in the dark and headed for a set of glass doors that seemed subtle for the New York satellite of the biggest music streaming platform. Alyssa pressed the button for the elevator inside and impatiently shook her hands out of the gloves she’d worn for warmth.

She seemed to know you needed a minute, because she kept her eyes glued to her phone as the elevator rose the sixty-two floors until it let out a loud beep to signal your arrival. The doors parted. A neon green wall met--and nearly blinded--you both. 

“Jesus, bit much, don’t you think?” Alyssa complained as she stepped out, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the aggressive color. You looked both ways down the long hall. It was eerily quiet. 

Before you could process the sound of footsteps headed your way, you were greeted by a voice of an excited woman. 

“Y/N?” She called your name, prompting both of you to turn quickly. A woman in a grey cardigan smiled and offered a small wave as she headed your way. “I’m Erica.”

“Hi,” you said, pulling the hat from your head to reveal (what you were sure was) hat hair. You smoothed it quickly, offering her a hand to shake. “This is my roommate, Alyssa.”

You tried to ignore the knot in your stomach and the rise of heat to your face. You were sure you looked stupid. You were sure you sounded stupid. You were sure, suddenly, that nothing good would come of this decision. 

“Nice to meet both of you,” she motioned to follow her back in the direction from which she came. “They’re actually just about to start recording, so we’ll slip in the back and just watch for now.”

Erica was decidedly American. Decidedly a fixture of Harry’s new life. Friendly as she may seem, you couldn’t help but be bothered by her smile and her shade of lipstick and even the bracelet on her wrist. Maybe it was some kind of defense to keep you from making more of a fool out of yourself than you already had. 

“So you’re a friend from back home?” She asked over her shoulder as you slipped out of your jacket. 

“Yeah,” you folded the fabric over your arm as you followed behind her. “Went to school together and all that.”

It’d been a while since you told someone about your knowing Harry, really. Since the day you moved in with Alyssa. You weren’t keeping it a secret, but it certainly wasn’t public knowledge. No one at work knew, and honestly, you feared that it would make people take you less seriously. If anything, you were afraid that knowing him would make coworkers think you were hired for that and that alone. 

That’d be the definition of clickbait: Former pal of One Direction star writes lists about the best boyband songs to ever grace the planet, and yes, 1D is included!

All of your other friends from home knew that you knew him because they did too. Your parents always asked if he’d be joining your make-shift school reunions, but it’d been a while since he had. Which was why it was so strange in the first place that he’d shown up at Kenny Tilley’s house two years ago. 

Erica rounded a corner and then reached for a door--one that was black metal and had a red light above it. Alyssa offered you a smile as Erica pulled it open, urging both of you in before holding a finger up to her mouth to remind you of the noise requirements. 

The room was big--and while you could hear the music and hear the voice of someone you knew quite well, you couldn’t actually see him. At least, not until Erica led you a few steps to the right. 

There was a group of 75 or so people--girls, really--who watched in raised seats as Harry strummed at a guitar. Alyssa, who reached a hand down to grab yours in excitement, couldn’t keep her eyes off of him. You knew the feeling. 

But Alyssa didn’t know that you knew the feeling. She didn’t know that you’d had a massive crush on Harry up until he left for the show. She didn’t know that you stayed in contact for a while, until the travel and the distance and everything became too much. 

It was cool at first. Your friend was finding success and did his best to keep in touch with the five of you he’d left behind. Bryn and Jessie had warned you that he wasn’t coming back, and he never did. 

All Alyssa knew was that you were friends and attended his co-ed birthday parties until you were 16. She knew that you’d see him maybe once or twice a year after the band took off and she knew that you were anything but close now. She knew something ridiculous had happened the last time you saw him and she knew you swore that he’d never want to speak to you again.

You really thought that was the case. Until today. 

So while she clutched your hand and smiled excitedly at you--even jumping up and down every few minutes--you did your best to calm the thumping of your heart that felt like it was strong enough to out-do the bass that walked alongside Harry’s melodic voice. 

Five songs. Applause. You were ushered to a back room with Alyssa and that’s when Erica finally let you have a moment alone, her ponytail swaying as the door shut behind her. 

“Is this where he sat, do you think?” Alyssa spread herself out on the black plush couch that sat on top of a black plush carpet. “How cool is this? How many times have you touched him? A hundred? A thousand?”

You took a deep breath. This is exactly why you didn’t often tell people. She seemed to gather that, though, because she regained her composure and let out a breath, an embarrassed giggle escaping her lips as the door behind you pushed open. 

“Hey Smalls,” Harry’s lips pulled upward as his eyes caught yours. His arms immediately extended forward, wrapping around you before you could even process the use of your embarrassing (and non-consensual) nickname. You stood there, arms by your side as his body enveloped yours. 

“Hi,” you spit out the word, the one syllable sounding a bit short and brash as it left your lips. He was warm up against you, his hand rubbing on your arm as he pulled away. 

Upon noticing Alyssa, he smiled. “I’m Harry. You must be,” he raised his eyebrows at her, reaching forward to make contact as you stood awkwardly between them. 

“Alyssa,” she answered quickly, extending her hand and offering a smile in return. Her eyes were as wide as two moons, her grin toothy and sincere.

You were both back in your coats now--ready to face the grueling storm despite the warm temperature of the room. You’d been hoping that you’d say a quick hello, engage in the dreaded small talk for a matter of minutes, and then be on your way back to your shared apartment. After all, you had work in the morning. 

An awkward pause filled the room as Harry ran a hand through his hair. You shrugged your shoulders absentmindedly, wondering if he felt as uncomfortable as you did. 

“Good to see you,” you forced out, fingers reaching for the zipper on your jacket to occupy your empty hands. “Sounded great out there!”

He smiled at this, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, thank you. Yeah, m’glad you could make it, thanks for coming.”

More silence. Alyssa shifted on her feet and smoothed her hair. 

“How long are you in New York for?” You didn’t really care to know. One night was enough to last you the next four decades--or, if you were lucky, until you were dead. 

“Another week, actually. Doing some promo here and there. Heading back for the holidays soon though. Y’gonna be home?”

“Yeah--booked my flight a few days ago actually. Heading to Heathrow on the 20th.”

“Nice,” he nodded, averting his gaze for a minute over to Alyssa. You turned to look back at her, but as soon as she met your gaze, she pulled her phone from her pocket and pretended to be suddenly occupied by something much more interesting. 

“Have you both eaten dinner?” His voice was choppy but it didn’t falter.

While you opted for the truth (yes), Alyssa shook her head (no). Harry furrowed his brows and looked between you, a smirk eventually tugging at his mouth.

“She uh, she means ‘we had a snack.’ You were just saying how hungry you were, Y/N,” Alyssa prompted, her left brow twitching upwards as if to silently communicate that you were to go along with her plan. 

“Uh, we sort of ate.”

He let out a laugh, clearly unperturbed. “Well, I was gonna go to a really seedy place that has the best Pad Thai in the city--if you want to join.”

Alyssa looked to you and seemed to wait for your response. Something about Harry knowing the best Pad Thai on the island made you territorial, almost. As if he’d intruded on a place that was yours, not his.

“Oh,” you opened your mouth to make an excuse, but Alyssa cut you off. 

“You two go, I’ve actually got a lot of stuff to do tonight. I’ll just get a cab home.” She made her way towards the door and offered a smile over her shoulder. “Text me when you’re on your way home, yeah?”

While you could have cursed Alyssa out for all that is holy, you forced a wicked smile and narrowed your eyes. 

“Nice to meet you,” Harry waved over his shoulder, shoving a hand into his pocket as the door shut behind her. He turned back to you and raised his brows again. “Shall we?”

**

It wasn’t like you’d never been alone with Harry. There was the time you were dropped off at his house to catch a ride to the school dance. You ended up in the doorway to his bedroom while he decided between which over-powering teenaged boy-scent to douse himself with. 

There was also the time he got to your house first one Friday for a movie night. You probably had seventeen minutes alone before Adam and Jessie walked in at the same time. 

You’d certainly been left alone with him when you all went shopping, everyone wandering off into different shops and you and Harry often ending up together.

Then there was the conundrum at Kenny’s. 

And it wasn’t like you’d always been this nervous. Actually, you barely used to bat an eye about it. You really only started being nervous at 15 or 16 when you realized that maybe his curly hair was cute and maybe the way he always made people laugh was something you wanted to be around more often. 

But as soon as you realized it, he was gone.

So instead of focusing on the way your heart was in your throat when you rode in the backseat of a black Chevy Suburban, you focused on the fact that you’d done this before. 

You were sober. He was sober. That immediately meant it couldn’t be as tragic as the last time you saw him. 

You’d already done the necessary formalities. He’d asked about your family, you asked about his. You complimented his performance again. He asked how the end of uni was--given that last time you spoke, you were finishing up your degree. 

So you busied yourself with your phone in the car, hiding behind the Yelp app and a plethora of 5 star reviews until you were forced to brave the cold air again. 

A bowl of mints had welcomed you at the front door--the empty restaurant was quiet aside from the distant voices of a woman and a man in the back. Beige stained walls and shabby leather booths promised a good meal. 

“So how’re Jessie and Bryn?” He looked up to see you, using two chopsticks to pull a portion of noodles onto his plate after it’d been set down between you. 

You tore at the paper that shielded your own dining utensils, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly. When was the last time he’d spoken to them? You’d been sure that he was talking to them more than you--really just based on the fact that neither of them had the same traumatic experience you had. 

“They’re good. Bryn is working in finance at some company I don’t even know the name of,” you recounted, following his move to pull a serving onto your plate. “Jessie’s looking into PhD programmes. Can’t stand the thought of being uneducated.”

He let out a laugh at your joke, carrying a bite of food towards his mouth. His eyes caught yours for a second and your stomach sank, almost sure he was about to bring it up. 

“And you’re…”

“At The Scoop, you’ve probably never heard of it, but we love to write about you.”

You rolled your eyes at the desperation displayed by your own company. The right side of his mouth pulled up as he chewed. 

You tried to backtrack somewhat. “Well, not me, but, like, my coworkers.” 

You’d made it a point to never actually write about Harry. The band was open season, but you’d made a rule on your first day that you weren’t about to blow your cover. Enough of your readers were already suspicious about the fact that he followed you on Instagram and Twitter. Writing about him would be sure to draw more attention to the fact that, buried somewhere on Adam’s instagram feed, was a picture of you and Jessie and Harry lounging on a couch in someone’s basement. 

“I know it, the website,” he nodded. Another bite, words spoken around chunks of chicken. “I’ve read some of your stuff. Didn’t know if you were still there.”

“You’ve read it?” Your eyes must have gone wide because he laughed at that, rolling up the sleeves of his brown sweater so as to not make contact with the broken pieces of noodles on the table. 

“I have. Pretty good, really. People seem to love you.”

You let your head roll to the side, a nonverbal sign that it wasn’t a big deal. You’d amassed a fair about of followers on twitter--but not quite as many on instagram. People seemed to find your dry humor and self-deprecating ways to be entertaining enough to want to see it regularly. It helped gain you some street cred at work and in the journalism field altogether. Apparently people really _were _interested in the best women’s razors. 

“And you like New York,” he nodded, waiting for an answer despite the fact that he’d already made a statement. 

“Love New York,” you nodded. “Excited to go back to London though for the holidays.”

“We’ll have to get everyone together. I know I’ve been,” a lift of his right shoulder out of guilt, “pretty shit at keeping in touch.”

“You’re busy,” you said. 

“Still.”

“S’fine.”

“S’not, but,” he didn’t finish.

You couldn’t take the seriousness or the truth or the authenticity. So you derailed it before it could start. You asked about his album and his tour and tried your best to keep the conversation as far as possible from the night of December 29th, 2015. 

And you’d really thought you’d managed it all beautifully when he paid for the meal and you were, once again, pulling on your jacket to brave the snow that fell from the night sky. 

“Want to walk?”

“Huh?” You looked up at him as he pulled a flat cap over his hair. 

“Walk, Smalls, just for fun. I don’t always see too much of the city.”

You didn’t really know how to reply. Was he trying to guilt you? He had to have known it wouldn’t work, but maybe two years was enough time for him to forget that you’d never been one to fawn all over him. 

“I mean, I have to work in the morning, so.”

“Oh,” his face fell, almost as sad as you’d ever seen it. “Yeah, no, s’fine.”

“I guess, we can walk to my apartment, if you really want. It’s not--it’s like fourteen blocks from here.”

Another sheepish smile from him as he pushed on the door and waited for you to walk under his arm. The snowflakes were smaller when you looked up to see them dance in the flood of street lights. Harry went up to the passenger side window of the car that waited for him, knocked twice before the driver rolled it down. 

He said something about walking you home. You decided that the snowflakes were now more like dimes. 

You fell into step beside him quite seamlessly. Something that you hated and loved all at once, feeling oddly soothed by his presence but still completely unsure of why he’d texted and what he wanted and how on earth he could tolerate you after that night. 

“This is where I get my hair cut, actually,” you pointed to a window with empty barber chairs inside and a barber pole out front. 

“Really?” His head dipped to the side as he slowed down, stealing a glance inside. You caught your reflection in the window, his coat was long and down to his knees, formal and grandpa-like and exactly what you’d expect him to wear. 

“No--that’s like--it’s a place for men,” you laughed, feeling more comfortable once your lungs took in more cold air.

He laughed and turned back to look at you. 

“Don’t say it,” you shook your head quickly, the words tumbling out of your mouth at the same exact moment as he did just that: he said it.

“You’re killing me, Smalls.”

You rolled your eyes. “I hate that nickname.” 

He laughed again, catching up after you’d left him behind--picking up your pace in an attempt to let him know he’d pissed you off. He smirked at you now, though, an undeniable and unmistakable twitch of his lips that soon became a full-face grin. 

“Oh come on, Y/N, s’not that bad,” he reached over to poke you in the shoulder. You shivered at the touch, hoping he didn’t notice. Or, if he did, hoping he’d chalk it up to just the cold air. 

“Is too,” you nodded, serious eyes on his face. “You lot are the only ones who ever use that and I’ve never given my actual consent!”

He was quiet, a smile on his face as he shoved his hands back into his pockets, his boots brushing against the powder on the concrete.

You walked in silence for a few blocks. The wind blew every once in a while, and when it did, you shrunk into your coat, your lips grazing the zipper as you attempted to shield yourself. Harry’s eyes traced the skyline overhead, taking in the height of the buildings and the snowflakes that seemed to be downgrading to specks of dust in the wind. 

You hated the fact that you liked him. You hated the fact that he gave you butterflies like you were back in Year 9 and you hated the fact that he never hesitated to pull out his signature raised-brow smirk. 

You bit your tongue when you stopped in front of your door, nervous that if you opened your mouth, the truth would spill out, completely uncontrollable. You’d already made that mistake once.

“Thanks for,” he paused, his lips twitching as he searched for the right label. “Hanging out.”

“Yeah, s’good to see you. I’d uh, invite you up--s’pretty messy, though.”

“I don’t mind,” he said quickly, shaking his head as his eyes trailed up the side of the building. It was shorter than some others, only eight stories on the skinny residential street. 

You hadn’t actually meant it as in invite--it was more just a polite way of saying you’re not invited up. 

You shrugged your shoulders, hoping you didn’t have to be more straightforward. “S’late, I know you’re probably busy tomorrow.”

“I have a place a few blocks away. I’ll probably walk home myself, s’a short walk,” he shrugged, looking around to highlight the fact that his car hadn’t followed you. 

“You have an apartment here?” you asked, your voice smaller than it’d been all night. 

He’d lived a few blocks away from you and hadn’t bothered to reach out? Sure, he might not have known just how close he was--but something still triggered a sinking feeling in your stomach.

“M’not here often, really,” he told you, an excuse flying out from between his lips. His eyes dropped to the snowy sidewalk beneath your feet as if he knew just how bad he sounded. “A week or two at a time, few times a year.” He looked up, his voice more cheery and hopeful. “But, I’d love to see your place.”

When his eyes met yours, you couldn’t help it. You were putty in his hand and the world at his feet. “Uh, yeah, okay.”

You fished for your keys in your pocket, wishing you weren’t so childish or spineless or intrigued by the boy who’d outgrown his hometown and left you in the dust. 

He followed you to the lift, climbing in beside you as you told him about your dreadful move in day. Too many boxes, not enough hands. Alyssa was helpful but you barely knew her--you didn’t want to earn the title of bad roommate too soon into your relationship. 

The hallway on your floor was dark, small lamps lined the wall as he followed behind you. It was late and Alyssa was likely asleep. You’d forgotten to text her like she’d requested, so you keyed in as quietly as possible, hopeful that she wasn’t waiting up. 

You pushed the door open and let him walk in first, wondering if you should give him the grand tour--shoebox bedroom and all. 

“S’not much, but it’s home,” you looked around, taking in the sight through the eyes of a stranger. A small couch and armchair in the center of the living room. A modest-sized TV that was the home of Friends reruns and Netflix marathons. Framed posters on the wall of old Parisian magazines. A small kitchen table and two teal chairs by the kitchen in the corner. 

You couldn’t help but wonder what his apartment looked like. Was it an apartment or was it a four story penthouse? Was it professionally decorated by someone from Vogue? Did he have marble counters and marble floors and marble furniture? 

“S’nice,” he smiled, bringing his eyes back to yours. “Feels homey.”

That was his nice way of saying it was messy and small and a place he could _never _spend any time. He was likely used to lounging on sofas that cost more than your yearly salary.

The door to Alyssa’s bedroom creaked, her figure emerging from the light that seeped through the crack. “How’d it--oh, hi!” Her eyes widened when she learned I wasn’t alone. “How was dinner?”

We spoke at the same time. 

“Good,” he said. 

“Fine,” was my response. 

Alyssa crossed her arms over her chest to cover the fact that wasn’t wearing a bra--she never was. That’s apparently what it took for Harry to realize it was time for him to head out. He looked between you both and offered another smile. Smacking his lips together, his eyes scanned the room once more, finally landing on you.

“I’ll see you--yeah? I’m here for another week, we could do dinner or something?”

You hadn’t expected him to initiate something again. You’d actually expected that you wouldn’t hear from him at all--maybe a text to the group chat on Christmas Day saying he missed the lot of you.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you watched as he headed for the door he’d just entered through. 

“Nice to meet you again, Alyssa.”

“You too,” a dazed look still on her face as she watched him reach for the handle. 

“You can find your way down? And your way home?”

He crossed the threshold back into the hallway, his lip curling up. “I’m good, Smalls.” 

“Okay.”

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. See you later.”

“Bye,” you shut the door, soothed by the sound of the latch as you turned your back to the wood, a long sigh escaping your lips as Alyssa raised her brows for the umpteenth time. 

“Care to explain?”

You bit at your lip. It was late, you were tired. You were emotionally drained. But you knew she wasn’t going to let you get away with it. 

So you sat on the couch and had a cup of tea and told her about the last time you saw Harry. You also told her that despite all of it--the embarrassment, the resentment, the anger, and the jealousy--you hoped he meant it when he said he’d you’d see him again.

read the other parts here

AN: want to be on the tag list or have thoughts, questions, or just want to be friends?! Let me know here! 

taglist: @thurhomish​ @castawaycths​ @harryspirate​

[saysomethingspiderman]

Something Wonderful (PT. 8)

Synopsis: During your time as a professional photographer, you had come across incredibly good looking men, but there was just something about Tom that stood out. Who would have thought shooting the self-titled “walking meme” would change your life forever?

Chapter word count: 7.4k

Warning: some smut

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five // Part Six // Part Seven // Part Eight

Tom surfaced the next day around lunch time. He shuffled out of your bedroom looking more than a little sorry for himself; his hair stuck up at all angles, his face had a sheen of sweat and he held the duvet around him like it was the only thing helping him hold himself together. Without that duvet, he would simply crumble into the hungover mess he was. When you heard a small groan from behind, you turned from the microwave in the small kitchenette and burst out into a fit of laughter.

“Wow, I’m glad you didn’t look like this when we first met,” you giggled and immediately switched the kettle on. He needed a coffee. Immediately. With a nod towards the couch you told him to lie down and grabbed a couple of paracetamol from the drawer by the sink. “Out of ten, how bad you feeling?”

“That’s too small a scale,” Tom grumbled into the cushions after dropping down onto the couch. He lifted his head just enough for you to feed him the pills and then he curled back up with the duvet over his entire body to block out any light. “I don’t even remember leaving,” he said after a pause.

Ah. So he didn’t remember what he’d said. Typical.

Giving a shrug of your shoulder, you moved over to make yourself busy with making Tom a coffee. “It actually wasn’t that late a night. Well, not as late as I thought it would be. I think we got back around… Half two, maybe? Something like that. I actually wish we’d stayed longer to have another go on the karaoke,” she smirked and saw Tom’s body suddenly stiffen.

“How much of an embarrassment was I?” he asked slowly, expecting the worst.

After adding a splash of milk and a little sugar, you placed the steaming mug of coffee on the table in front of Tom. The smell forced him to sit up and he reached over, taking the drink in his hands. You gave a smile and sat on the smaller couch by the window as you said, “You actually weren’t that bad. Said a few things I know you didn’t mean, though.” With slightly squinted eyes, you watched his reaction to see if there was any recognition in what you were talking about. Had he really forgotten such an important thing? 

“You just said I wasn’t that bad!” Tom argued in his croaky morning voice the coffee had yet to help. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I was an arse, wasn’t I?”

“No, no, you were fine. Honestly, Tom, you were fine. Anyway, it doesn’t matter what you said since you don’t remember.” The harshness in your tone wasn’t intended and it shocked not only Tom but you too. You gave a heavy sigh. “Sorry, I’m just a bit tired.”

Although you found the humour in Tom not remembering the night before and the drunken, silly fool he’d been, you had to admit that him not recalling the words he’d said grated on you. It was such an important moment in your relationship and had he stayed awake long enough after speaking, he’d have heard you return the feelings. How could you not love him? You felt it every time he woke up and smiled when he saw you lying next to him, every time he gave Tessa special smooches, every time he laughed at one of your jokes that was definitely not that funny. The way his eyes crinkled at the sides when he grinned away like an idiot made the butterflies in your stomach flutter like crazy. You would tell him, of course you would, but only when he was ready to hear it. That wouldn’t stop you teasing him, though. That was a good way to get rid of the annoyance, right?

“Just know that I really loved what you said,” you said and stretched out across the couch, ignoring his look of pure confusion as he racked his brain for anything memorable he could have said.

Tom shook his head a little and took another sip of his coffee. “I’ve no idea. Can’t you just tell me?” He stuck out his bottom lip like a child begging for one more cookie before dinner.

“Nope, figure it out for yourself, lover boy.”

The sound of your laptop dinging with a notification made you look over to where it was sat open on the kitchen table. You’d been waiting on an email so you hurried over and read the message, barely making it halfway through before a squeal of delight escaped from behind your lips.

“Are you purposely trying to make my head explode?”

You laughed at Tom’s miserable face and gave his hair a ruffle on your run back to your bedroom. “I have to pack!” The clothes were thrown from your wardrobe, landing here, there and everywhere. The small suitcase of summer clothes sat at the back, untouched since you returned from the States all those months ago. Even though it was summer, England had yet to actually realise that; there had only been a small handful of days where it was warm enough not to wear a jumper.

“Care to share what you’re packing for?” came Tom’s voice from the doorway as he pulled a tank top off his head, having been tossed in his direction. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorframe. “Are you leaving me for someone much more handsome?”

“Oh don’t be silly,” you said flippantly and tugged the suitcase out onto the carpet. “If I was, I’d do it while you weren’t here. It’d be a bit obvious, don’t you think?” You glanced his way and gave a cheeky grin, then unzipped the suitcase to go through what would be suitable.

“Well where are you going then?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed beside where you sat on the floor. His eyes widened slightly when he took notice of the contents you were rifling through and he reached down to pull up an incredibly skimpy red swimsuit. “Also, more importantly, why have I never seen this before?” He twirled it around his finger, the little piece of material barely skimming your face.

Before it had the chance to scratch an eye out, you grabbed it from his grip and threw it to the side. “Because it’s not suitable for children. And sorry, I sort of didn’t explain myself,” you laughed and leaned against his leg. As though on instinct, his hand found your hair and began to twirl a strand. “Guess who wants me to shoot their cover?” The excitement was evident in the way your whole body practically shook, almost bursting to scream. “Vogue! Vogue want me! Me!” 

Tom’s arms had wrapped you into a squeeze before you’d even finished the sentence. He kissed your neck and jaw and side of your head, wherever he could reach from where he was sat. “That’s amazing, bub,” he said softly, holding you tightly enough to push all the air from your lungs, but you didn’t care. He managed to catch your lips in a kiss when you turned towards him. “Really, darling, I’m so proud of you.”

The skin on your cheeks warmed and you gave a shy smile. “Well I wasn’t their first choice,” you said quickly, for some reason not wanting him to think you were that successful. “They had someone else who had to pull out so I was their second choice. Or maybe their third or fourth or whatever since it’s such short notice and not everyone would be able to do that…”

“Hey, don’t put yourself down like that,” he said sternly, brows furrowed slightly. He held your chin between his fingers and tilted your head up so he could give you another kiss. “First choice or not, they still want you. And I don’t see why they wouldn’t. They’d be stupid not to have you.”

Being your own worst critic, it was nice to hear those words.

“Anyway, where are you going?” he continued, glimpsing the amount of bikinis you’d piled up.

“Oh. Right. Yeah. Uh, Greece,” you said and chewed the skin on your lower lip. It was usually Tom’s schedule that changed at a moment’s notice and now he had the time off work, it was yours that was doing a complete one-eighty. “Milos, to be precise. One of the islands.” A thought then popped into your head and you sat up a little straighter as you turned fully to him with a big grin. “Do you want to come? We can make a whole long weekend out of it! I’ll just change my flight coming back home and pay the difference. It’ll be fun!”

Tom couldn’t help but smile at how giddy you were. He took a hold of your shoulders to stop you from wiggling around so much, jittery from the buzz the email had given you. “You know what? That sounds perfect,” he smiled and kissed the tip of your nose. “When do we leave?” He pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and opened one of his apps to look at getting a plane ticket for himself.

“Yeah. Um, that’s the short notice part,” you said with a slightly nervous laugh and moved your attention back to what you were packing. “The flight leaves in six hours.”

Without missing a beat, Tom gave a nod, kissed the top of your head and then hurried out of the flat with the promise to pick you up in a couple of hours. While he was gone, you went through the holiday clothes you had from the year before and packed them neatly back in the suitcase, leaving the unwanted clothes in a pile in the corner of your room to be dealt with at a later date. There was no time for that now. After a quick shower to prepare yourself for the ten hour flight, you shoved on your usual travel outfit of leggings and a comfortable sweatshirt, and double checked you had all your equipment for the photoshoot packed securely in a separate case. There’d be no point in going at all if you forgot any of it.

As expected, Tom arrived in a taxi outside your flat the second you managed to track down your passport. You hauled your cases into the boot of the car, then climbed in next to Tom. He’d freshened up with a shower, too; the smell of his showergel made you want to lick every inch of his sweet skin. But that could wait until you arrived in Greece. Or at least were in the air.

“You’re looking a lot better than before,” you said after checking in at the airport and making your way through security. So far Tom hadn’t been recognised and as long as he kept his hat on, you prayed it stayed that way.

“Well I’ve probably overdosed on ibuprofen,” he said, rubbing his tired eyes. He followed close behind you as you strolled through the perfume stands, stopping to spray one every so often. “Can you even overdose on that or do they just say it to scare people into only taking one or two?”

You shrugged a shoulder and spritzed the newest Chanel onto your neck, the floral scent almost convincing you to buy it right then and there. “I dunno. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see if you lose consciousness. At least I’ll be somewhere nice and sunny while I mourn.”

“That’s all that matters,” he laughed and wrapped an arm across your shoulders as you continued browsing what the little department had to offer.

After a few makeup purchases were made (“Do you really need another nude lipstick? It’s the exact same as the one you always wear!” “It’s a completely different shade, Tom.”), the two of you just relaxed in a private lounge until the flight was ready to board. There were a few people who turned their heads when they recognised Tom but fortunately the two of you were left alone. It didn’t take long to get settled on the flight. You swapped your trainers for the slippers you’d shoved in your bag and relaxed in the seat next to Tom, who had already got comfortable with his neck pillow.

It only took a few episodes of New Girl for Tom to get bored of being on the plane. He tried to occupy himself with the games on his phone, eating food he wasn’t particularly hungry for and walked up and down the aisle a number of times to pass a whole five minutes. It even got to the point where he sat scrolling through the photos on his phone because he had nothing else to do. When he got to the very first pictures on his camera roll, he locked his phone and leaned over to your side. With a cheeky grin, he pushed your headphone to the side of your ear, bringing your attention away from Mamma Mia.

“You ever had sex on a plane?”

For a moment, you weren’t sure you’d actually heard him right. Was he serious? For one, you were right in the middle of arguably one of the best numbers in the film so it would simply be cruel to drag you away from watching Donna and the Dynamos perform “Souper Trouper”. And two… Well, there wasn’t another reason. But you still shook your head and said, “I’m not having sex on a plane, Tom. What if someone hears?”

“Then we can be quiet,” he said, though you knew full well he meant you would be quiet as more often than not, you made enough noise for the both of you.

“I can also be quiet while I watch this,” you replied, nodding your head at the screen attached to the back of the seat in front of you, the scene paused.

Tom leaned closer and pressed his lips to the spot just below your ear that made your legs instantly weak. “Are you sure?” he whispered and kissed your skin again.

Clearing your throat quietly, you took your headphones off and placed them inside your bag on the floor. Then, without so much as a smile to let him know he had won so easily, you stood and made your way through the aisle to the small toilet room at the back of the plane. A knock came just minutes later and you slid the door open to let Tom inside.

“Alright, if we get caught then I’m going to kill you,” you chuckled.

Tom’s only response was to lift you up onto the tiny counter and pull you close into a hungry kiss.

The two of you tried. You really did. It started off well with Tom’s hands working wonders between your legs, but at one point the tap turned on and soaked your bum, then a bit of turbulence shook the plane and caused his chin to whack your eye. You’d have been happy to ignore the little incidents had Tom’s foot not slipped into the toilet. It was a complete disaster that you couldn’t stop giggling at. 

“I don’t think this is working,” you laughed as Tom shook his foot to try and get rid of as much water as he could, his nose scrunched up in disgust.

“Oh, you think?” he snorted and zipped up his fly before taking his trainer off so he could use the air dryer on it. “Maybe we can make up for it on the flight home.”

Not wanting to give people the wrong (or completely right) idea, you pulled your leggings back up, hopped off the counter and gave Tom’s cheek a kiss on your way out, leaving him to sort himself out. The silver lining was that you could now watch Mamma Mia in peace. 

Tom’s trainer managed to dry out by the time the plane landed. The heat of the early morning sun instantly hit as you headed down the steep steps and you were tempted to just strip into the nude to help with the warmth. Without much trouble, Tom hailed a taxi outside the airport and you headed to the hotel.

“Well who knew when we woke up this morning, or yesterday morning, or whenever the fuck it was,” Tom laughed when the taxi pulled up outside the hotel, “that we’d be in Greece within a day.”

“Well you deserve this time to relax,” you said, unable to take your eyes away from the hotel.

It was simply beautiful. The white stone building looked as though it was cleaned multiple times a day with how bright it was against the sun’s beams. Porcelain tiles in colours of blues and whites paved the way to the entrance, where you were greeted with an enthusiastic receptionist. She’d definitely had their coffee this morning. After checking in, you headed to the room you had booked. The breeze from the open windows was a welcome feeling as you opened the door and Tom took the bags to put in the bedroom while you headed straight for the balcony that looked out onto the beach. For a moment, you closed your eyes and listened to the waves.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” Tom’s arms wrapped around your waist from behind and he left a kiss on your shoulder. “What time do you have to start work?”

“I don’t think I’ve got long, maybe an hour or so,” you said, though made no move to check all your equipment was safe and able to be used for the shoot. “What’ll you do while I’m out?”

“Hm, I’ve got an idea,” he said and gave your shoulder another kiss.

“Should I be worried?”

He chuckled softly and shook his head. “No, be excited. I hope you like it.”

“Okay, now I’m definitely worried,” you laughed and turned in his arms to catch the cheeky smirk on his lips. “Yep, definitely worried.”

“Don’t be, you’ll like it, I promise. Anyway, go get yourself sorted for the big shoot,” he smiled and gave your bum a light slap on your way back into the room.

It turned out that you didn’t have as much time as you’d thought so after rushing about to have a quick shower to wash the airplane from your skin, you hurried out to grab a taxi to take you to the other side of the island, mind still on what Tom had planned for your return.

*

With the help of a few members of staff at the hotel, Tom’s plan slowly started coming together. You were gone pretty much the entire day so he knew the risk of you accidentally stumbling upon what he was doing was low. He found the perfect spot on the beach beneath a couple of trees that he’d wrapped in fairy lights, and set a small table and a couple of chairs beneath them in the shade. The hotel had a spare sheet to cover the tabletop and he placed a candle right in the centre, waiting until you arrived to light it. Throughout the day he sent you texts to see how close to finishing you were but, understandably, you were only able to reply a couple of times because of how busy you were. It was only when the sun started to lower that you texted him, letting him know you were on your way back. Tom sprung into action. He hurried up the small hill to tell the chef to get started on the meal he’d organised and then headed to your room where he wrote a note and left it on the bed for you to find. After changing into the only shirt he’d brought, Tom gave himself a onceover in the mirror and went back down to the beach.

You only just missed Tom when your taxi pulled up outside the hotel. It hadn’t been the best day; the model had been an absolute diva, the rocks had been more slippery than they’d seemed (almost resulting in you having a broken leg), and there had been no food on site, meaning you’d gone pretty much all day with only having water to keep you going. All you wanted to do was get in bed and cuddle Tom. But you came to realise Tom had other idas when you found the note on the bed in your room.

Meet me out on the beach. Follow the petals. - Tom X

“Follow the petals?” you murmured with a small frown and looked around in confusion. Your face softened when you spotted the beginning of a trail out on the balcony, leading you down the steps. Following the red and pink petals on careful footsteps, not wanting to ruin them, you found yourself on the beach. The sand was clear so you took off your trainers and walked the rest of the way barefoot. Then you spotted Tom. He sat beneath one of the trees, the glow from the fairy lights giving his skin a golden hue. His leg was bouncing. Was he nervous?

Tom turned from looking out at the sea and his whole face visibly lit up at the sight of you. “Is this cheesy?” he asked with a quiet chuckle and ran a hand through his curls. “I know you don’t like things that are too cheesy.”

For a few moments you didn’t know what to say. He’d spent the day doing all this for you. “I love it, Tom,” you replied in a voice soft enough that you were afraid he hadn’t heard. “You didn’t have to do all this,” you said, a little louder this time as you joined him at the table.

“I know I didn’t,” came his simple reply as he lit the candle that sat between you. As if on cue, a waiter appeared with two dishes and placed them on the table. “I’d planned on taking you out anyway while I’m off work and since you completely changed my plans and dragged me along to Greece,” he laughed, “I thought I’d still go ahead and do it, with a few alterations.”

“Alterations meaning we’re on a beach instead of a restaurant and you having sand in your hair,” you chuckled, digging into the prawn starter.

“Yeah, exactly that,” Tom grinned and leaned away from the food to shake the sand from his hair.

While you demolished the mouthwatering prawns, you caught Tom up on your day, finally having a chance to moan. It wasn’t until the mains arrived that you realised how much you’d actually been talking about yourself and hadn’t taken the chance to ask Tom anything about his day.

“What? I mean, it’s pretty obvious what I’ve been up to all day,” Tom said with a shrug and took a sip of his beer. The sun had moved to its lowest point behind him and you took a moment to just stare at how gorgeous he was. He raised a brow. “What are you looking at? Have I got more sand in my hair?”

“No, no, you’re just pretty,” you grinned, reaching over to take a hold of his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s so sweet of you to do all this. Really, Tom, it’s amazing.”

“Well I like to spoil my girl.” He returned the squeeze of your hand and then shifted in his seat, looking as nervous as he had before. He went to say something but something stopped him and he just smiled instead.

“Are you all right?” you questioned as he shuffled again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he assured and pushed his empty plate to the side so he could lean closer. “Great, actually. Well, more than great, I’m perfect, I’m-”

“Tom, you’re rambling,” you laughed, causing his cheeks to redden.

He shook his head as though to rid himself of whatever he was feeling. “I just… I just want to tell you that I… I, uh, I didn’t actually forget what I’d said the other night.”

It took you a moment or two to understand what he was talking about and when it hit, you brushed a piece of hair away from your eyes that the wind had blown into your face. Now he was making you nervous. Was he going to tell you that it was just a load of drunken nonsense? 

“I hadn’t planned on saying it while drunk,” he continued, pulling you from your worries. “I wanted to tell you I love you while sober.”

A surge of happiness exploded in your chest, sending goosebumps along your arms and legs. A blush rose high on your cheeks and your eyes sparkled as they crinkled at the sides, your grin taking up your entire face. “You’re saying you love me, then?” you asked giddily with a slightly raised brow.

Tom licked his lower lip and gave a small nod. “Of course I do, darling. I love you. I think a part of me has loved you since I first laid my eyes on you.” He sat up straighter now he had a little more confidence. “I mean, if you don’t love me too then I take it back. I take it right back, I’ll give my love to someone else,” he laughed, nudging your foot under the table with his.

You joined in with his laughter and moved around the table so you could take his face in your hands, squashing his cheeks. “I love you too, you big idiot.”

The dessert of strawberries and ice cream was eaten through giggles and kisses with you sat on his lap. You would have given anything to take Tom’s hand and drag him back to your room but the temporary dining area had to be cleaned up. You didn’t really care that much. Now that the words had been said, it felt like there was a new type of connection between the two of you. A stronger spark of electricity. You pulled the lights from the trees while Tom collected the plates and tablecloth, then you carried everything back to the hotel.

When you got back to your room, Tom pushed you against the wall and kissed you hard, hand yanking up the skirt of your dress. His fingers were frantic as they stroked over you and he impatiently pushed aside your knickers to thrust one into you. As you moaned into his mouth, he sped his movements up and rubbed his thumb over your clit. Your toes curled and you pulled his hair roughly. He pulled his hand away and moved it to your waist as you shifted so you could wrap your arms around his neck. This time the kiss was slow, languid, a deep longing between you as though it had been weeks since you’d seen each other. Your fingers massaged the nape of his neck and he pulled you closer to his chest, sinking into his warmth. 

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” Tom said against your lips as you pushed him back in the direction of the bed. “I know you’ve had a long day.”

“And what better way to use the last bit of energy I have?” you smirked and gave a sudden squeal as he lifted your body and threw you onto the mattress.

“Well that’s a very smart idea, darling.”

He looked fierce, like he knew exactly what he wanted: he wanted you. Seeking your lips, he lifted your chin. You sank back into the cushions as he kissed you over and over. With a little push from his fingers, the thin strap of your dress slipped from your shoulder and he pulled the material down to your waist, exposing your breasts. He played with your nipple, teasing it with his tongue before finally clamping down and sucking. The moan that escaped you was almost animalistic. Every flicker, tug and tease was felt in every inch of your body, growing into the warmth between your thighs. His hand palmed your other breast and you bit your lip. Had it always been like this, or was this because of the new feelings?

A part of you felt helpless because you wanted to please him but each tug on your nipple he did with his teeth made your mind go completely blank. You wanted to show him how much he meant to you but any ideas you had of blowing his mind (and other parts of his body) were forgotten as his hand found its way back up your dress and tore your knickers off. His fingers found his favourite spot between your thighs, feeling the wetness.

“Tom,” you breathed, unsure of whether you wanted him to stop so you could ravish him or if you were begging him not to pull away.

“I want to taste you,” he said, looking up at your through hooded lids, his eyes dark with lust.

Without much more than a nod, you pulled your dress the rest of the way down, kicking it to the floor when it settled around your ankle. You were desperate to have it away from you, wanting nothing more than to be completely naked with him and feel all of him. Tom flashed a grin as his eyes roamed over your body, taking in every inch with hungry eyes. He quickly ditched his shorts and shirt, tossing them over by your dress. Wasting no time with hesitations, Tom leaned down and kissed along your breasts and your stomach, pulling your knees apart as he finally kissed your most sensitive part. Your head fell to the side as you gave a soft moan, fingers tugging at his hair. A thin sheet of sweat built up across your skin as he did the most delicious things to you. Tom gave his own groans of pleasure as he tasted your sweet juices. Slowly, a tight need swelled up inside you, getting closer to the edge before breaking on a hot, intense orgasm. As you writhed on the bed, you pulled harder at his hair and bucked your hips against his mouth.

“God, you’re perfect,” Tom whispered as he began moving back up your body, leaving a trail of kisses along the way.

“My go,” you smirked when he started kissing just under your jaw, and reached down to stroke his throbbing cock.

“As much as I’d love that, I don’t think I’d last,” he replied into your skin with a small chuckle. A noise of protest came from him when you pushed him onto his back, releasing his lips from your neck. “Hey, I was enjoying that.”

“Oh, so you don’t want this then?” you asked, sitting up as you straddled him. With a teasing glint in your eye, you painstakingly slowly began moving your hips, pressing your heat against him.

“Darling, I’ve never seen such a beautiful sight,” he said and took a hold of your hips, just watching you for a moment, biting his lip. When he was unable to take the teasing any longer, he leaned over to the side table and pulled out a condom, hurriedly rolling it on. His hands went to your hips again and moved you back over him. You lowered yourself and guided his cock into your walls, gasping softly as he filled you. His grasp moved to your bum, fingers digging into your flesh as he lifted you up and down on top of him. Wanting to feel every part of him, you leaned down and buried your head in his neck, kissing his skin that was salty with sweat. He lifted you faster, pounding harder, moaning your name into your hair.

“Oh, fuck, Tom,” you cried over the slapping sound that filled the room as his thrusts quickened.

He rolled you back over so he was on top and you reached above your head, gripping the headboard. His mouth dropped to your breasts, pulling another desperate cry from your throat.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growled, thrusting again deeper into you.

A shiver moved through you as his hand slipped between your bodies, finding your clit. He was driving you crazy. He pushed faster, harder, filling you completely. Every time your inner muscles spasmed around his cock, he moaned and sped up, receiving groans of his own name from you, begging him not to stop. With a final stroke of your clit, your body trembled with an explosive orgasm. Tom’s fingers dug into your thigh as he joined you, spilling himself with a grunt.

“God, I love you,” he panted and pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder before rolling over onto his back, slipping out of you.

You released your hand from the tight hold it still had on the headboard. “Ditto,” you managed to whisper, panting almost as hard as he was. There was a huge ache between your thighs and even though you wanted to do pretty much anything else, you knew you had to go to the bathroom to clean yourself. After leaning over to give Tom’s cheek a quick kiss, you pushed yourself up from the bed, only to fall down on the floor before you’d even taken the first step; your legs had become too weak to hold up your weight. On the bed, Tom burst out laughing.

“This has never happened before!” you laughed, not bothering to even try and move.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he giggled and leaned over the side of the bed with tears in his eyes, struggling to stop laughing. The sight of him looking so blissful warmed your heart and you couldn’t help the grin that lit up your face. Was it normal to be this happy? Normal or not, you craved it like a drug and never wanted it to end.

*

The weather was a blessing during the rest of your stay in Greece. There was only one other day where you had to work and finish the rest of the shoot off, but after that it was just you and Tom. Every free moment you got that wasn’t spent sunbathing on the beach (mainly in that swimsuit Tom had found in your flat. Teasing him had become your new favourite hobby, especially when it led to him carrying you back to the room to have his way with you) or taking walks to enjoy the local culture was used to show each other exactly how much you loved one another. Whether that be in the bed, in the shower, the bath, even the balcony, you were making the most of it. Tom’s touches and whispers of your name was something you would never get used to. You never tired of listening to him.

“Oh come on, [Y/N], I’ve no one else to go through it with me.”

The sun had started to set on your last day on the island, painting the sky in a mixture of golds, oranges and reds. You leaned back in the chair on the balcony and took a bite of one of the watermelon slices you’d ordered from room service. Tom had his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. He pushed up his glasses and looked back over the script for Cherry he had resting on his lap. He’d been asking non-stop for almost ten minutes for you to read it with him, but your only acting experience went as far as being cast as a lamb in the school nativity when you were seven. Feeling your stare, Tom turned back and gave you the puppy eyes that were impossible to resist.

“Oh alright, give it here,” you sighed and accepted the script. Tom pointed out where to start from and you sat up a little straighter in your seat, pulling a leg up underneath you. “Before we start, you should know that I’m no Meryl Streep.”

“Nor am I,” he said with a shrug of a shoulder. He kept his eyes on you while you read, feeding off your reactions. There were a few lines he completely forgot or muddled up with another. Watching him turn into a completely different person was fascinating. How could someone so sweet and innocent instantly switch to a man struggling with a drug addiction? That was talent. Pure talent. There were a few scenes you went over multiple times. Tom wanted to get them just right. You only stopped when the sun got too low to offer any light to read the lines. The gentle breeze from the sea picked up, sending a shiver down your spine. Seeing the cold affect you, Tom went inside to grab a blanket, so you picked up your phone to read your messages.

There were messages from the usual group of friends and your mother, which you swiftly replied to, then decided to check Instagram. Since people had found out about your relationship with Tom, you’d found yourself steering away from posting and avoided looking at any comments or private messages. But what was the harm in having a little look now? The abuse had calmed down a lot since it first started, though there were still messages here and there calling you names and reminding you that Tom deserved better. You scrolled through your private messages, deleting ones you didn’t like the look off just from the preview. Then one caught your eye. After a quick glance behind your shoulder to check Tom was still busy inside, you read what one of Tom’s apparent fans had sent.

Disgusting wasn’t even the word. You read the message over and over, feeling more nauseous each time. It wasn’t a secret you kept from anyone that you were adopted, but that information would only be found on your personal account that you kept private from those you didn’t know. But this person knew and they weren’t shy about expressing how your biological parents should have gotten rid of you instead because clearly they didn’t want you. And if they didn’t want you then no one else would? Who would be crazy enough to love someone else’s throwaway? Tom deserved someone more on his level and someone who wasn’t using him for fame, they said. Someone he’d be proud of. To finish it off, they gave their wishes for you to end your life.

The phone fell from your hands when you jumped out of your skin at the feeling of a blanket being wrapped around your shoulders. You hadn’t heard Tom come back out.

“You reading a story or something?” Tom asked with a chuckle, having caught a glimpse of the length of the message.

You cleared your throat to get rid of the lump that had formed and picked your phone up from the ground. “Oh. Um. Y-yeah, a story,” you agreed quickly and mentally cursed at how your voice wobbled. After locking your phone, you curled up on the chair and pulled the blanket tighter around your frame.

“Hey, what’s up?” His voice was soft and his frown deep after catching the shakiness. He reached over and brushed some hair from your face. “Darling, what’s wrong? Was my acting really that bad?” He flashed a smile, but it failed to ignite and fizzled out.

Through tear-filled eyes, you looked over at him and bit your lower lip. He deserved to know, right? If it was the other way around, you would want to know if he was getting sent messages of this sort. But would that just be running away and hiding behind him, using him as a shield against the people who sent hate? You took a deep breath and unlocked your phone to the message, then handed it over. As he read his face hardened and his jaw clenched. You’d never seen such fury in his eyes. After reading that message Tom flicked back to the other messages you’d yet to delete and read through a few of them, his anger continuing to build up.

“Why’ve you never said anything to me?” he asked quietly, running his fingers along his stubble. He put the phone back on the table and sighed heavily. “There’s hundreds of them, [Y/N]. How come you haven’t told me you were getting this sort of abuse?” He was angry at the senders, yes, but there was some anger directed towards you. All you could do was shrug lamely because what excuse did you really have? That you didn’t want to bother him, that you didn’t think he should know because it would mean even more work for him to deal with? There was no excuse, not really. “Oh come on,” he huffed and stood to lean against the balcony fence. He ran his hand through his hair and pulled at it a little, then turned back to you. “How long has this been going on?”

You couldn’t bear to look at him and see the frustration on his face so you focused on picking at your nail polish. “Since we were first spotted together,” you mumbled and chanced a look to see him shake his head. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you said, voice a little louder now. “I just… I didn’t want to burden you with my problems.”

“Your problems? Babe, you wouldn’t be getting this sort of shit if you weren’t seen with me.”

“Well maybe we should be more careful,” you huffed and pulled the blanket closer as the wind picked up.

“What, so you’d rather not be seen with me?” Tom questioned with a harshness to his tone.

Your head shot up at his words. “What? No, of course not! I just…” You looked around as though searching for the right thing to say. “I just wish this wasn’t part of our relationship.”

“It’s not, [Y/N]. It shouldn’t be.”

“Yeah, well it is.”

With a heavy sigh, Tom pushed himself away from the fence and moved back over towards your side. He knelt down next to your chair. “I’m sorry you’ve been spoken to like this.”

“Sorry?” you frowned. “Why are you sorry? You’re not the one sending the messages.”

“No, but like I said, you wouldn’t be getting them if it weren’t for me.”

“Oh come off it, Tom, it’s not all about you,” you said with a slightly forced chuckle and took a hold of his hand. He brought your hand to his lips and kissed your fingers.

“Would you like me to say something?” he asked softly and brushed that stubborn piece of hair from your face again. “I can message all those people back and tell them to basically fuck off.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, they’ll probably get off on that and convince themselves that you’ll then fall in love with them or something. Really, Tom, it’s fine. I can deal with it myself.”

“Clearly,” he said quietly and took his phone from the back pocket of his shorts. When he opened up his Instagram app, you sighed.

“No, Tom, really. It might get people to send me more shit because it looks as though I’ve just ran away crying to you about it, which I definitely have’t,” you added quickly and pointed a finger at him, wanting to keep at least a little bit of pride.

“Well what else do you expect me to do?” he asked, ignoring your finger as he typed a message to add to his story. When you didn’t reply, he turned his screen for you to proofread. It was simple, reminding people to respect his privacy and to stop sending abuse to those he loves. It wasn’t directly pointing the finger towards you but hopefully it was still enough to at least ease the trolls even more. After your nod of approval, Tom posted it to his story and then put his phone away. “There,” he said and kissed your nose. “Now promise me that from now on you’ll tell me things like this? I don’t want you keeping secrets from me, especially when it’s something like this.”

The promise was made and a kiss was given to seal the deal. You felt better after letting Tom in on what had always been niggling away at the back of your mind. Things had been sorted. At least for now.

Gif belongs to @ptrbprkrs​

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[eternalstann]

Two Of Us - Part 2

Pairing: Peter Parker X Reader

Warnings: Smut

Wordcount: 1.9K

Part 1 here! ❤️

___________________________________

You yawned, before rolling over in your bed. Your eyes nearly rolled back from how good your morning stretch felt. You curled your toes into the plush baby blue rug on the floor and just sat for moment to gather yourself. Your father and the other avengers were leaving today. All of them, except Peter. A smile grew on your lips at the thought of him, you saw a whole new side of him yesterday. Your thighs pressed together when you remembered the feeling of his hard dick against your ass. A heat formed in your core as you imagined much more than just feeling his dick.

You needed a shower.

You jumped up and padded into the bathroom before undressing. Fuck, you'd forgotten your phone. You walk back into your bedroom and nearly have a stroke at the sight of a certain brown haired boy sitting on your bed. "Peter!" You shriek, doing your best to cover yourself up. "Holy shit" Peter whispered to himself at the sight in front of him. Your full round breasts staring him in the face, and he was sure the way they bounced with every step you took would be something he remembered forever. You backed your way into the bathroom, squeezing your eyes shut. "What do you want!" You called out from behind the door. "I - um, I just wanted to tell you everyone's getting ready to leave in about half an hour" he murmured, still reveling in what he'd just seen. "Okay thank you, you can go now!" You reply before shutting the door to the bathroom. 

"Jesus" you mutter under your breathe, you were convinced these sorts of things only happened to you. "I guess my shower will have to wait" You sigh. You made your way downstairs, clad in shorts and a tank top that might've been a size too small and was biting into your shoulders.

Once you reached the bottom of the stairs you got that same funny feeling you always do before your father leaves. Pride and worry, he was probably one of the strongest beings in the universe but he was still your dad. "My love" he called out to you, pulling you in for a hug. "Be careful okay?" You whisper, looking up at him. "I will, and if you suspect anything is off then you let me know immediately. I'll be here fast as lightening" he spoke and you laughed at his corny joke. You smiled watching everyone say their good byes, you really were a big family.  "I love you" and "see you soons" chorused through the compound as they left. You glanced at Peter, standing near the door with Morgan in his arms as they waved and watched until everyone was out of view.

The mood was somber knowing so many of the people you loved had just left to complete a task that could potentially injure or kill them. You decided that needed to change. "Let's bake a cake!" You exclaim, grinning at Morgan and Peter. You swear you saw Morgan's ears perk up at the word cake. "Yes! Cake" she screamed bouncing in Peters arms. "F.R.I.D.A.Y, play Talk by Khalid please" you spoke, dancing your way to the kitchen when the music started.

You began pulling out the ingredients and setting them on the island, you were about grab a bowl when you turned around to see what your supposed 'helpers' were doing. Peter was still holding the chipper girl. Seeing him with Morgan, her little arms wrapped around his neck while he spun her around and sang to her made your brain fuzzy. He was literally perfect. "Hey! I'm not making this cake by myself" You quip, putting your hands on your hips and raising an eyebrow at the pair dancing behind you. "Sorry Chef Y/N" Peter laughed, setting Morgan down on stool. "There's so many flavors!" she chirped, looking at all the supplies in front of her. "I know, but let's start with one for now" Peter replied before holding up two boxes, "which one?"

"Chocolate!" The three of you all agreed in unison.

"Jinx" Morgan giggled, "can I pour it in?" Her small hands reached for the box Peter was holding.

—

Almost an hour later and you had just finished making the batter. Baking with a four year old was rougher than you thought. All of you were covered in flour and some other things you didn't even remember using. You exhaled in relief, finally putting the pan in the oven. You were drained but Morgan was still dancing around the kitchen to 'Thotiana' by Blueface, which you were sure she shouldn't be listening to but she seemed to love. "Aye! Bust down thotiana, I wanna see you bust down" - you shook your head watching Peter sing and hype Morgan up. Your eyes widened when you saw it was only 2 o clock. It felt like 9 in your head.

You all cleaned up the kitchen while you waited for the cake to bake. Morgan squealed when the timer went off and you raced to beat her to the oven before she could touch it. "Nope" you laughed, picking her up and placing her behind you. "Aw man" she pouted, watching you take out your creation. "Well, its not a looker" Peter shrugged, looking at it from over your shoulder. "Hey, it looks great!" You fake offense and slap his arm. You cut Morgan a piece, handing it to her. "It's delicious" she cried out, big eyes shining with pride. "Yay!" You cheer, slicing some for you and Peter, then pouring you all some milk.

"Movie time!" You wince after sitting on the couch, remembering you're all coated in flour galore.

After watching Shrek 1 & 2, it's almost 8. Morgan keeps rubbing her eyes to stay awake, her head in your lap and legs on Peter. "Let's get washed up babe" you murmur, watching the credits roll. You lift her up and carry her to her room, grabbing a towel and pajamas before going into the conjoined bathroom. You brush her hair up into a ponytail while you wait for the bath water to run. Morgan sighed, tilting her head back to look at you. "I want my hair to be long like yours". You frown at her words, "Your hair is beautiful M" you reply, placing her into the tub. "Not like yours. You're so tall and pretty" she whispered, looking at her hands. You felt for the little girl, growing up on Asgard surrounded by beautiful, strong women was intimidating and often times made you feel quite insecure. You can only imagine what it was like growing up with women like Pepper, Natasha, Carol, and Wanda was like. "I want be pretty AND powerful like you" she spoke. You smiled, "You already are Morgan".

—

You gasped when you collided with Peter outside of Morgan's room. "She asleep?" He asked quietly and you nodded. Once you got farther down the hall he spoke in his regular voice, "Holy shit, finally! Does she have an endless battery? Are little kids supposed to take naps? She's definitely taking a nap tomorrow" he rambled. "I just can't wait to shower" you groan, pushing open the door to your room. You kicked off your slippers, the rest of your clothes piling up beside them. Peter stared at you awestruck, "Nothing you haven't seen before" you shrug before stepping into the shower.

"You gonna join me? Looks like you could use a shower too" You ask, turning to let the water flow down tour back, being sure to jut your breasts out just a little. Peter didn't say anything, just started tearing his own clothes off and then joining you. 

Your eyes traveled up and down the length of his body, taking in every inch. He was incredible. Eyes following the little droplets of water falling down his chest, fingers close behind. His cock was already half hard. It was calling to you. You had to close your eyes for a moment to stop yourself from jumping on him. His hands reached out to massage your boobs, a content sigh slipping past your lips as he worked your flesh. He took a step closer to you, your nipples brushing against his chest and sending sparks throughout your body. "Turn around" he commanded and you did as he said. You were hoping he was going to bend you over and fuck you into next week. But he had other plans, he began massaging shampoo through your hair. The tips of his fingers scratching against tour scalp. You leaned into him, feeling his solid chest against your back. "Rinse baby" he whispered in your ear, letting his tongue dance along your earlobe. You felt like melting. You stepped forward to rinse, missing a beat when you felt Peter grab your waist. "Got a little shampoo - right here" His words followed by a harsh smack to your ass and you let out a whimper. "Fuck Peter".

He pulled you back to him, his dick once again pressed to your ass, except this time there were no clothes acting as barriers. Skin to skin. Peters hands  wrapped around to your front, and your body jumped when his finger pressed to your clit before skimming through your folds. "You want it Y/N?" He asked and you nod fiercely. "I want words baby girl" he spoke again. "Yes Peter, I want it. I want you!" You cry, pushing your hips back and grinding against him. A hiss leaving his mouth at the feel of you. His finger finds your clit again, not waisting anytime before he begins. His fingers were magic, igniting something brand new inside of you. He applied more pressure and increased his speed, his own hips rocking against you from behind. You relished the little noises he let slip.

You felt your orgasm swell within you, your breathe uneven and heart racing. "I'm close" you moan out and Peter only pushes harder. His lips attach to your neck, kissing and sucking the soft skin. He loved the way you tasted and he couldn't wait to taste every part of you. "Cum for baby" he grunted, his other hand wrapping around the base of your throat and squeezing. Your legs nearly give out as your orgasm washes over you, but Peter holds you up, whispering dirty words in your ear as you rode out your high. "Fuck me Peter" you groan, and before you can blink he's carrying you to the bed.

You're on top of him and even though he's under you, you can feel him everywhere. His hands grip your ass, helping you grind back and forth. You lift yourself up, about to sink down onto his length when you hear your door creak open. You grab the sheets to cover the two of you just as Morgan's little head pops in.

"Can I sleep with you guys" she asks, her voice small. She looks up and furrows her brow at the sight of the pair of you, but she doesn't dwell on it.  "Sure M, go grab a pillow though okay" you say as sweetly as you can and she nods before walking off. "Oh my god" you exclaim looking at Peter and you want to laugh at the sour look on his face.

"You really need to start locking your door"

—————————————————————-

So you guys got a little bit of smut this time! I can't believe how many of you liked part one, thank you ❤️ I think I'm going to make this at least 5/6 parts or maybe more. Idk yet, but also I wanna say another thank you to everyone who asked to be tagged. I love you guyssss!

@professionalphangirluniverse @lexiauteur @lowkey-lokis-bitch @la-vie-en-amour1 @spideylovesyou3000 @friendlyneighbourhoodmercenary @igoldieloxi @linlou117 @mutuallynotmutual

[lavishedinjimin]

a little bit of sugar, daddy [2]

↳ Pairing: taehyung x reader

↳ genre: sugardaddy!au, ceo!au

↳ rating: 18+

↳ word count: 3.9k

↳ warnings: lots of implied smut, lots of dirty talk, slight voyeurism if you squint, BDE taehyung lol 

— synopsis: Taehyung - a sugardaddy and a businessman, a man who derives his life from sex, pleasure, and money. Y/n - a girl working at a small cafe, whose sex life is as dry as the weekly delivered coffee beans. Will Y/n adjust to the new lifestyle she agreed on, and could she keep up with all of the dirty antics with Taehyung?

a/n: go and check out my masterlist located at my bio to see the next chapter of this story!

The car ride was quite something else. It wasn’t a quiet-but-comfortable atmosphere because hell – it was the opposite of that. You were shifting all over his leather seat and you don’t know where to put your hands. You were breathing ever so quietly, scared that he’ll hear how rugged it was. Taehyung, on the other hand, rests his left elbow on the window frame as he continuously tugged and played with his lips, the other hand gripping the steering wheel.  

You didn't know what to do. It was nerve-wracking to the point where you were unconsciously bouncing your left leg up and down.

You started to think if this was really a good idea. You just met him today, and he could be lying about not hurting you. In your whole twenty years of life, you haven't experienced anything like this -- why would you? You didn't exactly know what came through you when you said yes to him. You were actually probably too horny to think about it.

You sighed and you lowered your head, massaging your temples with your fingers as it suddenly started to hurt.

'I'm such a dumb bitch.'

"Y/n? You good?" He said, breaking the silence. He turned to look at you for just a few seconds and returned his focus back on the road. "You seem off."

"Yeah, n-no. I'm okay." You said, prying your eyes away from him as much as possible.

"You're lying." He said after a moment. "I don't want you to lie."

Something in his voice was firm and strict -- and you didn't understand why. You finally looked at him and he had his jaw clenched. You furrowed your eyebrows, why was he so angered about this?

"Fine. I'm just, well, I don't exactly know the reason why I agreed to this. Don't be offended though, I'm not saying that you're a bad person -- no. But it scares me on how fast I said yes to you. Hell, you might take me to some kind of dungeon or a mafia cult or something." You explained, looking at him for just a second. He didn’t look at you but he released a chuckle, smirking. “Also, you’re probably like six or seven years older than me.” 

“Seven.”

“Huh?”

“M’twenty-seven.” 

“Oh.” You gulped, trying to avoid his figure at the corner of your eyes. “Anyways, what I was saying--” 

“What you were saying is bullshit, Y/n.” He cut you off, followed by a quiet giggle. “Didn’t I said that I won't hurt you, hmm? That’s true, and I don’t do lies. I’m not a bad guy, Y/n, you can trust me on that.” 

You kept your mouth zip, hearing what he has to say.

“Whatever I said back there at the cafe was also true, angel. You’re such a goddess and you don’t even know. It’s rare to find people like you out there, and I just had to take the chance.” Suddenly, he placed his right hand above your left knee and you stilled in shock. He exhaled, rubbing it up and down. You, on the other hand, were trying so hard not to move. You were tense and nervous. 

“People like me?” You scoffed, “I’m just an ordinary girl like anyone else. I go to college and I work, pay taxes, and all that. I’m not special, believe it or not, Taehyung.” 

“I know that. But it’s something else that I see in you that makes me lose my mind when I’m with you.” Confused with that statement, you looked up at him and saw how he ran his tongue on his lower lip, eyebrows furrowed. You noticed how the grip on the steering wheel was getting harder. He rubbed his hand up and down on your knee slightly, making you hitch your breath. “I can’t say what exactly it is right now, or else I might have to pull over.” 

“W-what?” You meekly asked. He turned to you and his eyes burned holes into yours. His gaze was immensely intense -- way too intense, making your cheeks turn a shade of red. 

“It’s the little things Y/n. Like what you did just now; the way that you blushed just by my stare, how you fumble with your hands like that, the way that you bite your lip when you’re nervous -- you're so serene, baby.” 

“Serene?”

“Mhm,” he moved the hand that was on your knee a little bit higher until it rested on your thigh - squeezing it - making you jump a little. “So fucking precious. You might not understand it quite yet, but I’ll tell you soon, in full details.” 

He removed the hand and placed it back on the steering wheel. You released the air that you were apparently holding with a loud sigh, finally relaxing into the seat. He noticed this and chuckled, shaking his head slightly at your cuteness. 

~

You expected that he’ll live in a very rich and exquisite building -- but this just went beyond your expectations. 

Once you stepped in his place, all the colors you can see were white, matte black, and grey. It was all very modern and very simplistic of him. You firstly saw what you thought was his living room, where it’s literally the size of your whole apartment. Every wall was covered in famous paintings, which were the only objects that bring any color to the complex. On the right, there was his kitchen, all neatly polished, and then a huge staircase probably leading to his bedroom and other rooms that probably cost ten times your college tuition. 

“Earth to Y/n?” you suddenly heard his voice, seeing how his hand waved in front of your face -- snapping back to reality. 

“O-oh, yeah. Um,” you gulped, “your place...it’s really...really--” 

“Really...? Hmm?” he towered over your small figure, walking forwards and making you hit a wall behind you. You gulped as you looked up to his eyes. 

“Um, pretty.” You said in a whisper. He smirked at you, grabbing one of your cheeks with his hand and caressing it. You fought back the urge to flutter your eyes close. 

“You really think so? People who go here the first time say that it’s pretty boring and bland.” You shook your head, “No, it’s really not. You have your own style.” 

“What? Boring?” He laughed, eyes still focused on yours. He moved his body closer to that it was pressing against yours slightly. The touch of his skin made you shiver. “Think I’m boring?” 

His deep and gravelly voice sent shivers down your spine, and how close he was with you made you suck up a breath. He slowly slid one of his hands down your sides until it reaches your hip, gripping it tightly while biting his lip. “Hmm?” 

“No, a-absolutely not.” You replied truthfully. This man is nothing but boring. 

“Okay, then.” He released you from his hold, making you catch your breath once more. How can he make you feel so breathless so easily? 

“Have you ate dinner yet?” He asked, walking towards his kitchen without even looking at you. You took the opportunity to swoon as his back -- the way that the dress shirt neatly hugged his figure, showing his broad shoulders and back muscles almost made you wanna faint. He was walking so smugly, too, as if he knew what you were doing. 

“I haven’t.” He nodded his head, making you sit on one of the stools in front of the huge marble island. 

“Let me make you something, then.” He assured and turned his back to you once again, starting to prepare all sorts of ingredients.

While he was cooking, you sat there, quiet. He was tossing all the ingredients around the pan, probably lowkey trying to impress you, making you giggle.

But it wasn't quiet enough because he heard your little laugh, making him turn around and looked at you with one of his eyebrows raised. "Hmm? Something funny baby?"

You bit your lip, looking down. "Nothing."

He scoffed at you as he continued his work. That particular noise that he did somehow make you feel small. It somehow intimidated you. "Don't do that."

You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked back up at him, only to be faced with his back. "Do what?"

"Biting your lip like that."

That sentence hit you right through your core, and you didn't know why. But you decided not to fall in his trap and came up with a better statement to reply with. "Why? Do you like it?"

Regret, regret, regret.

You heard him hum and removed the pan away from the stove. He faced you, seeing how dark his eyes have been. He leaned forward, forearms resting on the table as his head was mere inches away from yours.

"Go on. Bite your lip."

Your eyes widened. He really confirmed that he did like it, so doing it in front of him made you really nervous. "You heard me right, little one. Do it."

You exhaled, finding the courage to do so. He lifted his left hand and placed his thumb on your bottom lip, swiping it across. His eyes were glued to your lips as he was mesmerized by it.

A second later, you did what he told you and bit your lip, eyes looking straight up at him. "Shit."

He closed his eyes for a moment and reopened them. There was a much darker shade painted onto them that you thought were impossible.

“You don't know how much I wanna fuck you right now.” He growled in your ear, making you whine. “The things I’d do to your cute, little body princess.”

Your eyes widened and you were getting excited. You can feel your heat getting wet every second as he talks, and he knows it. “Please...”

“Hmm? What was that I hear?” He tilts your head up with his index finger under your chin to make you look directly at his dark irises. A smirk was plastered on his face as he looked at you, cheeks flushed. “P-please, um, I...” you searched for correct words but nothing came out, only making him chuckle.

“Don’t worry, baby, I know what you want.”

He leaned his face even closer to yours so that your lips were brushing against his. He was teasing you, pulling away whenever you tried getting closer. “You want me to do everything I told you back in the cafe. I know you want me to bend you over on this island,” he said as he placed a hand on the marble surface, tapping it, “and spank your cute little ass again and again until you won’t be able to sit.”

You whimpered once again, trying to look down out of embarrassment but he didn’t allow it. “I know you’ll like that.”

You do.

But before anything else happens, Taehyung pulls himself away, turning his back on you and continues to cook your meal. Just like nothing happened. You released a deep breath that you didn’t know you were holding as you calmed down. You rubbed your face with both of your hands, noticing how hot your face has become.

Taehyung, on the other hand, had a smirk on his face. He liked what he did to you. Even at the cafe, he likes seeing you so flustered about every word he says.

He has never been paired up with a girl this young. He was twenty-seven, and every girl he met was about twenty-four and above. You were a new experience for him, and he had never seen someone like you to be so frail and innocent. He wanted to take care of you. And he didn’t know how much you turned him on whenever you look at him with your big, doe eyes.

After a few moments, he had finished cooking your meal, giving it to you on a plate— still hot. “Are you a pasta fan?”

“Huge.” Your mouth watered at the sight in front of you, smoke still coming out of it. He chuckled as he handed you a fork. Taehyung cleaned up, then walking away from the kitchen. “Are you not gonna eat with me?” You asked carefully before digging in.

He turned his head towards you, “I ate already, Princess. I’ll be back soon, I just need to do a few things.” You nodded as he left as you began eating his delicious food.

Your plate was half empty until you heard footsteps coming down the stairs, you turned your head, expecting to see Taehyung but your eyes met a middle-aged woman. Her eyes lit up as she saw you. “Oh, darling!” You quickly stood up from your seat and bowed at her politely, “Good evening, Mrs...”

“Please, call me Marie.” She excitedly walked over to you and placed her hands on your shoulders. “And you are?”

“Oh, I’m Y/n. I’m Taehyung’s...um-” What were you?

She removed the uneasiness away from the air and laughed, “Don’t worry, Y/n, I understand. It’s a shocker though.”

You creased your eyebrows, “Hm?”

“It’s the first time Taehyung has ever brought a young-looking girl in his house. You’re so cute!” Her excitement made you giggle.

“Oh, I haven’t really introduced myself other than Marie. I’m his housekeeper for four years now.”

“Four?! That’s so long, you must know him a lot.” “I do, yes. Don’t be intimidated by him though, he’s a gentleman.” Yeah, right,

She looked over your shoulder to see that your halfway-finished meal. “Oh, you’re eating! I’m sorry to bother you. Sit down, sit down.”

You obliged with a smile, loving how wonderful she already is. She walked over to the large fridge and filled you a glass of water. “Here,” she handed it to you, “he cooked you pasta but didn’t give you a drink.” She winked, making you laugh and say your thanks.

“Well, I’ll be going now, it’s my time to leave.”

You looked at the nearest clock you could find as it read 8:45 pm. “Where do you live, Marie?”

“Don’t worry about it, lovely. I’m just down the roads and such, I have my husband picking me up sometimes.”

You nodded and smiled, thanking and bidding her goodbye as she walks out of the door. She was so kind and happy, it made you feel refreshed.

You already finished your plate but Taehyung hasn’t arrived still. You decided to clean up the utensils and plate yourself and wait until he gets back. You thought if it was okay to wander around his house, but the beauty of it tempted you so much. You wished you had a house like this, heck, you wished you lived here, but you knew that wouldn’t happen anytime soon.

“Y/N.” A deep voice called for you, making you whip your head into its direction. You finally saw Taehyung, leaning one side of his body on the wall with a smirk, just watching you. You put down one of the figurines that you were apparently holding and carefully placed it back where it belongs. “Yeah?”

He motioned you to come to him with his index finger, curling it to his direction. You gulped and obeyed, not knowing what will happen.

You were a foot away from him until he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close until your bodies were touching. You let out a quiet gasp.

“You’ve met Marie?” You nodded, gulping as you feel the warmth of his body, “She’s wonderful, isn’t she?” 

“She is.” He lifts his hand up to caress your soft cheek as he looked at you in pureness.

Taehyung’s face was so perfect. It was like it was sculpted so perfectly by the gods. Everything seemed so sharp and balanced and each part complemented the other. The way he looked at you made your heart beat faster, you couldn’t lie.

“Let’s go to my office,” he said, grabbing your hand and leading you across his place. “Your office? Why?” You asked, trying to catch up with his big steps.

“We’re gonna talk about business, babygirl.” You can tell that he was smirking, even though you couldn’t see his face. He led you inside a room with a huge, matte black desk. The walls were grey and there were many more paintings in here. Piles of papers and documents sat on his desk and so are his shelves were filled with binders and portfolios. You forgot he was a CEO not until you stepped foot inside this room. He walked towards his chair and sat on it, placing his forearms above the desk in front of him. His desk was huge, and you wondered how many girls he had bent over on it. You gulped, putting the thought at the very back of your head.

“The answer is no.” He suddenly spoke, making your eyes wide. How did he know?

“I haven’t fucked anyone here yet. I usually do it in the kitchen.” He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip as he looked at you deeply, “but you can be an exemption.”

“You can probably already imagine how hard it is for me to keep myself from fucking you back there.” He groaned, tilting his head to the side. “Ah, sorry.” Your eyebrows creased. “Please sit.”

You did as you were told and sat on one of the leather chairs in front of him and his desk. “Do you know why we’re here right now?” He asked, making himself comfortable in his chair. 

“You said about business?”

He smiles at your answer, “You know who I am, and what I do, don’t you love?”

You looked to the side, finding the correct answer. You tilt your head, “I-I think I do.”

He’s a sugar daddy, but you won’t say it out loud.

“In this hidden world that I brought you into, I’m a dominant, Y/N.”

Yeah, well, that’s not surprising.

“And if you agree to this, you’re going to be my submissive. You know how that works, don’t you?” He looked at you with dark and serious eyes, waiting for your answer. You nodded. “Yes? Then what are you supposed to do, baby?” 

“I have to obey you.”

A growl escaped from his lips, “Good. But that’s not the only thing, love. As my submissive, you are going to let only me to touch you. You belong to me and you will be my property when you agree to this. No man should touch you, because that will make me disappointed.” 

He leaned closer to you, “And you don’t want me to be disappointed in you, Y/n.” You gulped, nodding right after. 

“What course do you take in school?” he asks. 

“Oh, um, biology.” He raises an eyebrow up, intertwining his hands together. 

“Interesting. How much do you earn while working in that cafe?” You fiddled with your finger nervously. You remember how he said that he can give you anything you want, and that can include the money. “Well, I earn $5 per hour, but that’s just a part-time job. I also only go three times every week.” 

You tugged on your bottom lip as you looked down. You didn’t want to see the look on his face. You suddenly felt his hand grabbing yours, holding them preciously on his. He smiled at you, “Y/n, sweetheart, I told you this already but I can give you whatever you need. You can quit your job and focus on your studies while I can provide you the money that you need.” 

“No, Taehyung, I --” 

“Ah, ah, ah, Y/n.” he cuts you off, “This is what I love to do, and you don’t have to feel sorry for me. I earn six figures a month.” He smirked, making you blush. “In return, you only have to be there for me and to obey me, you know what I mean, Y/n?” 

You nodded, “I do.” 

“I want you to think about this seriously. If you agree, you’ll be attending to my needs and I’ll be attending to yours. I’ll give you the pleasure that you need. I’ll give you money every month.” 

“Oh, Taehyung, it's okay if you don’t--” 

“I wasn’t asking permission, baby girl.” he strictly told you. “If you agree, the contract will officially start tomorrow. If you don’t, that’s totally fine and I understand your every decision.”

You thought long and hard about this, you knew your life would totally change if you’d agree to this. But you really needed the money, and you really liked him too. You were just unsure if you can handle the things he’d do to you. 

“About the, um, sex thing...” you nervously asked, but he was all ears. “I’m listening, love.” 

“I don’t know if you know or if you can tell but I haven’t really had much experience.” you timidly said. “I don’t know how I can attend to your needs - like - there are so many more women out there who had more sexual experience than me.” You were confused about why he had even chosen you, and you were dying to know. 

Taehyung chuckled, rubbing your hands that were captured in his. “I chose you for a reason, baby. I don’t just do this with random people. You’re a new one for me, and you’re not like anyone else that I had. I can also guide you and teach you. I won’t let you do things that you aren’t comfortable with. I can teach you about everything you need to know, baby.” You stayed silent, but you understood what he said. 

You weren’t sure if you can make this decision tonight though, you needed to think. 

“We don’t have to settle this tonight, Y/n. I understand this decision requires more time.” 

You nodded, “Yeah.” 

He smiled, standing up from his seat. He walked around the desk until he was faced in front of you, leaning his body against the hardwood. He looked down at you longingly, brushing a hand through your hair. He let out a sigh, “You’re really beautiful, Y/n. I want to take care of you.” 

You blushed, “Taehyung, I promise I’ll tell you my decision tomorrow.” He nodded, pulling you up so that you were stood in front of him. “Are you tired, Y/n? It’s kinda late, I can drive you back home.” 

“Is it okay for you?” 

“More than okay. I’ll gladly drive you.” he winked, making you laugh. You agreed and he led you to his garage. 

~

Taehyung’s car stopped in front of your building. You arrived at quarter to ten and you mentally cursed at yourself because you just remembered an essay that you needed to finish. He got out of the car and walked over to your side, opening the door for you like a total gentleman. 

You smirked at him, “Thank you, sir.” 

You used that nickname because you pretended that he was your personal driver, just an innocent little thought. But what Taehyung was thinking is the complete opposite. He clenched his jaw hard, trying his hardest not to push you inside your house and make you use that name on him again and again. 

He guided you to your doorstep. “Thank you, Taehyung, for everything.” 

“You don’t have to thank me for anything. I love what I do and if you’ll let me do this, I promise you won't regret it.” You nodded, smiling. “Here’s my personal number. From now on I’ll be using that to text or to call you, okay?” He grabbed a slip of paper from his pocket, giving it to you. 

“Okay.” 

He smiled, leaning closer to you slowly, pressing a tender kiss on your right cheek. “I’ll be hearing from you tomorrow, angel.” 

You watch him climb back inside his car and he drove away. You let out a loud sigh, tilting your head backward. 

What the fuck is this day. 

~~

if you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a note! it will really inspire me to continue writing for you all <3

[hailing-stars]

here’s another irondad bingo aka another post-endgame, alternate ending type thing (in the sense that everyone is alive and happy)

Trope: Vacation

Summary: Ironfam goes to the beach. Peter and Morgan go seashell hunting, but find a dog instead. this turns into a disaster 

Read on A03

**

Peter rubbed his hands together and scooted forward in the sand, closer to the bonfire they’d built on the beach. He reached out, his hands flat, and hoped to capture some of the heat radiating from the flames, but he caught a blast of sand to the side of his face instead. He whipped his head around, and up, then narrowed his eyes at Tony.

“Did you just kick sand at me?”

“Yep,” said Tony. “Get any closer to that fire and I’m gonna have to throw water on you too, so you don’t burn to death.”

He leaned back in his beach chair, and his facial features flickered in and out with the crackling flames. The beach got really dark at night. Their fires were their only source of light, besides the lampposts that lighted the wooden path back up to the house, but they were so away from them, and so close to the ocean and it’s rocking, gentle waves, that any light that was provided by the lamps faded out before it reached them.

Peter turned his head back around and faced the fire. He tried to stay where he was, down on the sand and in position to inch closer to the fire when Tony wasn’t looking, but that only lasted a couple of seconds. Another blast of sand pelted him, so he gave up. With a sigh, Peter stood and returned to the empty chair next to Tony.

“I’m cold,” Peter told him. “It’s freezing out here.”

Tony sat up and rummaged around in one of the bags on the ground. Before Peter could blink, a blanket was thrown at him.

“There,” said Tony. “Now you’re warm and you didn’t even have to catch fire to achieve it.”

Peter gave him a glare, and an eye roll, but cuddled up with the blanket, anyway. Tony went back to chatting with Pepper, and Peter returned his stare to the fire, so he wouldn’t have to look at May and Happy on the other side of it. Happy was the reason May didn’t need a blanket to stay warm, and some nights, Peter just wasn’t ready to witness the two of them huddled together.

It was a new normal, though, and Peter knew he’d have to get used to it, eventually.

He allowed a small smile.

Another new normal was nights like this. All of them, around a fire on the beach, with the ocean behind them and stars above them. Nearly perfect nights happened every night. They’d be absolutely perfect if every day didn’t bring them closer to the end of vacation, if all of this could last forever, but Peter knew it couldn’t.

Nothing ever did. Everything died, eventually, and Peter dreaded the day vacation ended and everyone returned to reality. Peter and May would return to theirs in Queens with Happy drifting in and out of their lives. Tony, Pepper and Morgan would go back to the lake house, and Rhodey would go back to doing whatever Rhodey did that kept him busy and away from their lives.

With another glance at the fire, he stood, let his blanket fall to the sand, and told everyone goodnight. It was time for bed, or at least, time for him to pretend to be going to bed.

He trudged through the sand, to the wooden path lit by lamps, and then finally, into the beach house. His bedroom was on the top floor, directly across the hall from Morgan’s. As he walked into his room, he heard her tiny heart beating through the walls.

Peter collapsed on his bed, burrowed under his covers, got out his phone, and waited.

A half hour passed before Peter heard footsteps clunking up the stairs and through the hallways. He dropped his phone, shut his eyes, pretending to be asleep just in time for his bedroom door to creek open. He listened as Tony’s footsteps got closer, until they stopped, and Tony hovered above his bed.

Tony dragged his thumb across Peter’s forehead, swiping the hair off his face, before bending down and pressing a kiss against it. He brought the covers back up to his shoulders, tucked him in, and left the room, leaving Peter listening to his footsteps as he entered Morgan’s room where, probably, he did the same things.

It happened that same way every night.

Peter pretended to be asleep, so he didn’t have to uphold his teenage obligation to complain about being too old to be tucked in and so he didn’t have the opportunity to admit that he couldn’t fall asleep without it, at least not without falling into nightmares instead of falling into dreams.

Sleep came easy, and peaceful, once Tony left his room, and as he drifted off, he tried not to think about how that would disappear, too, once their vacation ended.

*

The next morning Peter’s stomach woke him up. He let it growl at him a couple of times before forcing himself to roll out of his bed and plant his feet on the carpet.

Everyone else had beaten him to breakfast. He found them on the back deck, and the second he stepped on the other side of the sliding glass door, he knew it was one of those mornings he should have stayed asleep, despite the grumblings from his stomach.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” said Tony. “You’re taking Morgan on a walk.”

“What?”

Morgan’s face lit up, and she jumped off Tony’s lap and ran over to Peter. She grabbed his arm. “We’re going to find more shells for my seashell collection.”

Peter’s eyes flicked up and away from Morgan. He looked at the assortment of juices on the table, the bottle of vodka, and the way Rhodey was already leaned back in his chair, sunglasses on, with a half empty bloody mary in one hand. May and Happy were standing together by the edge of desk, while Tony and Pepper simply sat at the table, with nothing but empty plates in front of them.

Morgan yanked on Peter’s arm and tried to pull him back into the house. “Let’s go nooowww.”

“We’re having a kid free morning,” May explained. She moved away from Happy and towards the pitcher of tomato juice, grabbing an empty glass as she went.

“I’m not a kid,” said Peter. “I’m almost eighteen.”

Tony laughed, then turned to May. “Isn’t that cute? When they think they’re gonna be a grown-up when they turn eighteen?”

“Sure is,” said Rhodey. He looked at Tony. “I remember when you were that age.”

Peter narrowed his eyes at Tony and crossed his arms. “What are you guys going to do? Sit around and morning drink?”

“Yep,” said Tony, without hesitation.

He stood up, walked across the deck, and gave Peter a push. He kept pushing until he was back on the other side of the door, with Morgan still hanging onto his arm.

“Morning drink, and tell stories about our kids,” said Tony, before he slid the glass door shut.

Peter sighed, and his stomach gave a funny growl. Morgan tugged on the bottom on his shirt. “We’re going now?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

He grabbed a granola bar from the kitchen and ate it as they snaked down the curvy, wooden path that led them to the beach. The sun was hung high, and there were no clouds in sight. Another almost perfect day, another day Peter was sure would pass too quickly.

They kicked off their sandals and started their search for pretty shells on the shoreline, where the water could just barely lick their feet. Morgan wanted every shell she saw, and since Peter was the one with big pockets, he became her mule. He didn’t mind it, though. He remembered collecting shells at the beach on Coney Island with his aunt and uncle, and wondered if May was, at that moment, trading stories about Peter’s younger days at the beach for Tony’s stories about Morgan.

Out of the corner of his eye, Peter saw it. A giant shell, sticking up and out from the sand, a few yards away from the shoreline, by some trees. He looked at Morgan, making sure she wasn’t too close to the water, then trekked through the sand to retrieve. He was going to win major points with this find, more than when Tony had found her a sand dollar

And that had been a plant. He’d bought it at the giftshop the day before, threw it on the ground when Morgan wasn’t looking, then proceeded to pretend to find it for the first time in the sand.

But this, this was real.

He picked it up and examined it. A truly specular shell. Real life treasure, at least to Morgan, and when he turned around to show it to her, she was already looking back at him, with the biggest smile stretched across her face.

“Pete?” she asked, then pointed somewhere behind him. “Look!”

Peter followed her finger until his eyes landed on a dog. He was sitting, staring at them, between a few trees. He looked like a golden retriever underneath the dirt and sand that covered his fur. Also, he looked like his and Morgan’s new best friend.

“Let’s rescue him,” said Morgan, reading Peter’s mind. She grabbed Peter’s hand and gave an excited jump. “It’ll be our first superhero team up like daddy and Uncle Rhodey.” She dropped Peter’s hand, then gave an Iron Man prose. “Spidey and Iron Monarch save the dog.”

“Iron Monarch?”

“Mmhmm,” said Morgan. She puffed out her chest. “It’s my made-up name. Iron for dad, Monarch for the insect part, because everyone knows butterflies are better than spiders.”

Peter laughed. “It’s a good name. Let’s go save him, then.”

Morgan nodded, excitedly, and the two of them slowly, thoughtfully, quietly approached the dog.  When they were just a few feet away, they stopped, crouched down, and waited for the dog to come to them. He didn’t. Just stared at them.

“Come on,” said Peter.  He patted the sand next to them. “Come on, boy.”

“We won’t hurt you,” added Morgan.

The dog stood up at the sound of Morgan’s voice, and trotted over to them, only to lay back down in the sand and let out a whine once he was in front of them.

“What’s wrong with him, is he sick?” asked Morgan, patting his head and messaged his ears.

“I think just hungry,” said Peter. Up close, he could see how thin he was, underneath all that matted fur and dirt and sand. “Let’s take him back to the house. I think there’s some leftover hotdogs in the fridge…. Just, we have to be quiet and very sneaky.”

“So dad doesn’t find out.”

“Right,” said Peter. “And we should give him a name. That way if he does find out, he’ll feel too guilty making us get rid of him, that he’ll let him stay.”  

Morgan titled her head and looked at their newest family member. “Iron dog.”

“Very original,” said Peter, with a laugh. “How about Monarch?”

“Yes, that’s it, that’s his name!” Morgan said as if that had always been his name, and Peter happened to guess it right. “Come on, Monarch, let’s go home and eat.”  

*

After what felt like an hour of coaxing and backtracking and stopping along the way to get the dog back on track, they managed to get him outside the beach house. The three of them were crouched down behind some bushes, waiting for the perfect moment to get Monarch in the house and up to Peter’s bedroom.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” said Peter. He pulled back a branch from the bushes with one hand, and the other was laid protectively on Monarch’s back. “They’re all probably still on the back deck, so you go and distract them, show them the new shells and all, and I’ll sneak him upstairs to my room.”

Morgan nodded. Determination rang true in her eyes. She was ready for war.

“Then once you’re done showing them, grab the leftovers from the fridge and meet me upstairs.”

“Got it,” said Morgan, with another nod.

She raced off towards the house, and once she disappeared inside, Peter led Monarch inside, too. Getting him upstairs to his bedroom was surprisingly easy, locking him up in his attached bathroom was easier.

Monarch sat down by the door once it was shut and stared at Peter, like he knew.

“Look don’t be mad at me,” Peter told him. He backed up towards the bathtub, knelt in front of it, secured the drain stopped and turned on the facet, leaving his hand under the stream to gauge the temperature as he turned and leveled another look at Monarch.  “This is for your own good. There’s no way they’ll let you stay in the house with all that dirt all over you.”

Monarch stared at the running water and attempted to scoot even farther into the door. He whined when it was impossible, stood up, and began to scratch at it, instead.

“It’s not that bad,” said Peter. He flicked some water at Monarch. “See?”

He stopped scratching, sat down, stuck his head straight up into the air and howled.

“No, no, no, no, no,” said Peter. His words were a fast and panicked whisper. He dove away from the tub and knelt in front of Monarch instead, placing his both hands on the dog. “Shhhh you have to be quiet.”

Monarch stopped howling, but it was too late. Peter heard footsteps making their way up to his room. He tugged on Monarch, pulling him forward and away from the door, just in time for it to pop open.

It was just Morgan, holding a glass container of last night’s hot dogs and wearing a red cape along with a paper superhero mask that was held together by rubber bands. She shut the door behind her. She threw two hot dogs on the floor for Monarch.

“Whoa,” said Morgan, as they both watch him absolutely devour the food. “He was hungry.”

Peter looked at the tub, slowly filling with water, then back at the glass container of hot dogs Morgan held. He rolled up the legs of his jeans, stepped inside the lukewarm water, and asked Morgan to hand him the food.

He took one of the hotdogs and held it up for Monarch to see. He sat down and stared at the food intently.

“Come on boy,” said Peter. “Just come in here and you have all the food you want.”

Monarch didn’t move. He barked.

“No, no, no, no barking.”

He barked again, louder that time, and without much warning, jumped into the bathtub at Peter. The shock and the weight of him knocked Peter backward, causing him to slip on the slope of the tub and fell completely into the water. The leftovers fell with Peter, emptying out into the bath water, and Monarch burrowed his head under the water, trying to find them all.

Morgan shrieked with laughter that died down quickly as the door to the bathroom flew open. Peter panicked, fully expecting to see Tony walk into the room, but it was worse. It was Pepper.

The room went dead silent as Pepper surveyed the room. Her eyes went to Peter, sitting in the bathtub with a stray dog, to Morgan, smiling unapologetically and dressed as a superhero, to the water all over the floor, then finally, to Monarch, as he splashed around in the tub, occasionally lifting his head from the water just long enough to chop down a hotdog he’d found.

“Tony,” Pepper shouted, as she turned on her heel and left the room. “Come get your kids!”

Tony appeared mere seconds later, took out his phone, and snapped a picture of all three of them. “That’s getting hung up in the living room.”

Peter groaned, and Monarch barked, and Morgan gave another Iron Man pose for Tony’s camera. He kept snapping away, taking more and more pictures, as if he were trying to make the moment last forever.  

*

A breeze hit Peter’s face. He stood on the deck and watched as Happy and Rhodey played fetch with Monarch. Morgan ran along side of him, sometimes taking the frisbee for herself, sometimes playing tug-of-war with him for it. Behind them, the sun was lower in the sky, and soon it would be gone.

The end to another perfect day, and a couple of steps closer to the end of vacation.

He turned when he heard the glass door slide against the track, but quickly turned back around when he saw it was Tony, wearing a smirk. The same one he’d been wearing as he snapped a million pictures of the Monarch Bath Time Disaster.

“Did you actually think your chances of keeping him were better if he were clean?” asked Tony. He joined him at the end of the deck, where Peter rested his forearms on the handrail.

“I thought it was worth a shot.”

He looked at Tony. He was his only chance at keeping Monarch. His and May’s apartment building had an expensive fee for keeping a dog. It had to be Tony, and Peter wasn’t about to give up.

“I had to bring him back here.”

“Oh, you had to?”

“Yeah. He was out there all alone and he was hungry, and I just started thinking about how he probably got snapped and his family just moved on and forgot all about him, so when he came back, he was all alone.”

“Don’t do that,” said Tony, wagging a finger at him.

“Do what?”

Tony narrowed his eyes at him and leaned against the railing. “Give this dog a backstory that makes me feel sorry for it.”

“Him,” corrected Peter. “His name is Monarch.”

Tony didn’t say anything. Just looked at him with a blank, unreadable expression.

“Please can we keep him?” asked Peter. He wasn’t above resorting to begging, not for a dog. “I can help take care of him. It’ll give me an excuse to come over.”

Tony frowned, straightened up and turned his body so his feet pointed towards Peter. “You don’t need an excuse to come over. When are you gonna realize that you’re my kid, too, huh? What’s it gonna take?”

Another breeze ruffled through Peter’s hair. He opened his mouth, shut it, then opened it again, settled with telling the truth.

“I just – I’m just worried that once we go back home,” he said, gesturing to Happy, Rhodey, Morgan and Monarch down below, then at Tony and himself. “All this goes away. You know, May and I will go back to Queens, you guys will go back to the lake house- “

“-We’re not,” said Tony. “I mean, we’re keeping the lake house as a holiday getaway, but we’re moving back to New York.”

“You are?”

“Yep. Morgan’s gonna be starting school soon, and I’m serious, Peter. You’re my son. The lake house is too far away.” Tony put a hand on his shoulder, and directed him to the table, where they both took a seat. “May and I were talking today, and we worked out a schedule.”

“A what?”

“You know like every other weekend you’ll be at my place,” said Tony. “And I get Wednesday dinners.”

That sounded like joint custody, or co-parenting, at the very least. It was weight off his shoulders, and it took away some of the dread of vacation ending. Just some. They would still have to leave behind the sun and the beach and the zero responsibility.

“Holidays we all spend together,” said Tony. “Just like this.”

Peter released a breath and gave Tony a smile. “That sounds great.”

“Good,” said Tony. He clapped his shoulders again, “So we’re squared away, now? No more of this making up excuses to come over bullshit you just said?”

Peter stood up and walked back over to the ledge to watch Monarch run around some more, then looked back at Tony. He broke out into a grin. “I know what it’s going to take.”

From Tony’s expression, Peter could tell he knew exactly what he was thinking.

“That’s emotional blackmail.”

He shrugged, “Learned from the best.”

“Fine,” said Tony, joining Peter, again, by the ledge. “We’ll keep the dog.”

“Yes,” said Peter. He tackled him with a hug and burrowed his face into his chest. “Thanks, Tony.”

Tony hugged him tighter. Hugs like that, from Tony, always reminded Peter of being on the battlefield. His hugs were peace in the middle of destructive and chaos. When Tony finally let him go, he backed away, and towards the door

“You smell like wet dog,” he told him, before he disappeared into the house. “Go take a shower.”

Peter frowned, sniffed his own shirt, and crinkled his face. He went directly to his bathroom, and after cleaning out all the dog hairs, washed the stink off him.

That night, when Tony wondered into Peter’s room to tuck him in, he was pretending to be asleep between Morgan and Monarch. He felt Tony kiss his forehead, he heard Tony kiss Morgan’s, and then, he heard a third kiss, from his other side. He’d given Monarch a goodnight kiss, too.

“Well buddy,” Peter whispered, once Tony was gone and down the hall. “I guess you’ve officially been adopted.”

Monarch, for once, didn’t give him an answer. He slept peacefully. Peter gave his ears a massage, then shut his eyes. Sleep came easy.

[supersizemeplz]

Whatever She Wants

Erik 'Dadmonger' Stevens x Black PlusSized Reader

Another #supersizedfic short. Requested by @kissmyafropuff. I hope you like it. ❤ Enjoy!

Traffic was light for such a pretty day, only a few handfuls of cars littered the road. At least until you reached the other side of town. More cars seemed to appear out of thin air, but thankfully there wasn't enough for a traffic jam. The morning was going great, other than the fact that you'd been chosen as chauffeur for the day.

All Amari's idea, let Erik tell it.

"I can't believe this.." You mumbled under your breath with a chuckle, glancing into the rearview mirror. Looking back at the duo in the backseat. Erik and Amari both sang out to the music spilling from the radio, some upbeat song that you'd found yourself singing too as well.

Your little princess wanted to have a daddy/daughter day since she'd never gotten to go with you on one of your date nights. So Erik made her a promise that he'd take her on one.

You stood in the mirror that graced the wall by the door, smoothing a hand over your dress. Looking at the way it fit to your body, just how both you and Erik liked. "You look pretty mommy." Amari yelled happily, watching you from Erik's arms as he descended the stairs.

He smirked as he trailed his gaze over you, lowering to place Amari on her feet. "Absolutely amazing."

"That's what I told her.." Shuri stood from her relaxed position against the wall, smiling. She'd agreed to watch Amari for the night. "Just like I tell her every other date night."

Amari looked up at Erik, eyebrows furrowed in confusion just as his would. "What's bate night, baba?"

"Date night, princess.." He chuckled, squatting down to her. "It's the night that me and mommy dress up, and I take her where ever she wants."

Her little face lit up and she gasped. "Can we have a date night, baba? Peaseee.."

You and Shuri chuckled at her puppy eyes. Erik would always fall for those. He grinned. "Of course, princess."

Parking the car, you looked back at the duo. "We're he-"

"Uncle Shad!!" Amari yelled excitedly as Erik un-buckled her. Shad was short for Rashad, who'd been a friend of Erik's since his military days. Now, he owned a restaurant that was pretty popular. You smiled, getting out the car as Erik got out with her. She held his hand as you all walked up to the door.

"If it ain't Stevens and my two of my favorite ladies. Wassup, Mari?" Shad grinned, squatting down so that Amari could run over. Her replying with a happy 'Hey, Uncle Shad'. "What you up too, sunshine?"

"Me and baba are having a date. Right, baba?" She looked back to Erik with a smile.

Erik nodded, holding your hand. "That's right, princess. We doing whatever she wants today."

Shad smirked. "Anything you want, huh?" Amari nodded proudly, making Shad chuckle. "Then maybe we could let you try this new cake that we're serving, before you order. What you say?"

Amari nodded with a smile. "I like that idea."

You glanced at Erik who chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't know what's funny, Stevens. Cause you dealing with her until she's all sugared out." He cleared his throat and you smirked. Arching an eyebrow at him, you left him to follow Shad as he headed towards your regular table.

Once you all got settled, Shad had given both you and Amari a small piece of cake to taste. So you wouldn't ruin your appetite. He'd slid into the booth with y'all, making small talk as your food was being made.

"So who's idea was it for this day full of fun?"

You looked to Erik, making Shad laugh. He'd figured that. Eating another bite of cake, you covered your mouth as you spoke. "And had the nerve to make me the driver for the day. While they sit in the back and have their fun."

"Nawl, E. I know you ain't do sis like that?"

Erik slid a arm around your waist, hugging you closer to him. "I ain't doing her like that. I wanted to sit with her, but baby girl wanted me to stay in the back with her. It is a daddy/daughter date." You rolled your eyes at that, ignoring him when he opened his mouth for a bite of your cake. Instead tapping his chin and telling him to close his mouth because 'he'd be getting nothing sweet of yours for the day'.

That cracked Shad up.

When the food came and Shad disappeared to tend to his other customers, you'd all began eating. Erik shared his plate actually, him feeding Amari pieces of his smothered chicken and potatoes. She barely touched hers, nibbling a bit before she became interested in his plate. It sounded like something you'd do.

She soaked up his attention, talking to him and giggling. It was cute. They looked so much alike, it was surreal. Whenever they laughed at something she'd said, those matching set of dimples would appear and their shoulders would bounce. Animated.

Half an hour passed before you'd all decided to leave, taking Amari's leftovers in a box. And a few extra piece of the cake for yourself later. Shad hugged both you and Amari, giving Erik a handshake before he handed him a piece of cake for himself. A bit bigger than yours as he pat him on the shoulder with a sly 'since its the only thing sweet you're gonna get for today'.

The next two hours were dedicated to a trampoline park. Which let both Erik and Amari exert some of the energy they still managed to have, his idea to wear her out. They'd both ran off as soon as they slipped on the designated socks, heading into the nearly empty park. You'd followed behind soon after, finding them playing at the basketball section.

Then to the obstacle course.

Then to the balance beam.

Then to the dodgeball area.

You sat aside as they jumped around, perking up as Amari seemed to start to slow down. Erik scooped her up and that was your que to call it a day. He smiled as you all walked to the car, Amari laying her head on his shoulder. The car ride would do the rest.

By the time you all made it back home, Amari was fast asleep. She hugged her father's neck as he trailed behind you, up the steps and into the house. Her light snores accompanied the sounds of both your footsteps. Erik made his way up the stairs, heading to take Amari to her room.

You locked the door as his steps faded, yawning as you made your way to the kitchen. The light came on with a click, reflecting from the glossed countertops and stainless steel appliances. You rounded the island to get to the fridge, opening it and taking out a water bottle.

"Long day, huh.." Erik caught your attention, making you jump from its suddeness. Catching your hand to pull you closer. He chuckled, apologizing with a kiss to your forehead and a teasing 'I ain't mean to scare you'.

You giggled as he nibbled at your shoulder, inching to the bend of your neck. "Long as hell. We've been gone all day.. I almost forgot who Amari gets her energy from."

Erik laughed, hugging your waist and nipping at your sweet spot. He smirked as you wiggled from his hold. Though he stepped closer, licking his lips. "Which means that our princess is gonna sleep good tonight.. and her baba can finally give mommy some real good attention."

You bit your lip, looking up at him. "You know I like my attention.."

He smiled, dimples deepening as he trapped you between himself and the counter. His lips ghosting yours. "I know you do.."

_______

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