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my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife · 2 years

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One more drink X. - Pierre Gasly series

Okay so first I would like to say thank you. I have never thought that you guys will like this story that much 🥹

And I wanted to post this one later but I got above 100 notes on the Mastelist and it made me sooo happy so I thought I will upload this one faster especially because it’s been sitting in my draft. ☺️🖤

So thank you once again and I wish you guys to have a wonderful day ♥ You guys can know a little of me during this story because I cannot separate myself from it that much, so while you are reading this you can get a little know of me what can be my passion :) Just like the band that is on this one. They are incredible, and I would like to rembember one of the best nights that I have had not a long ago remembering HIM. 🖤👣Boldog születésnapot Te Csoda, kibaszottul hiányzol (x) (x) 🖤👣

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x fem!reader

warning: swearing, language, mention of depression, alcohol usage, smut

If you would like to be added to the taglist let me know 🥹

Masterlist

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I was fidgeting with the hem of my shirt as I was waiting in his hotel room. I don’t know if it was the best idea that I have made a little lie to him about that I can’t come this weekend, even that I have already planned everything with his personal trainer Pyry to surprise him on the race weekend in the Netherlands. He was really lovely and helped me with everything, I booked the plane ticket, he helped me with the taxi and also got a spare room key for me at the reception so I can hide in here.

His trainer sent me a message that they have just left the track and they are on their way back to the hotel. That was 20 minutes ago, so they can arrive in any minute. I was sitting on the armchair at the dark room, listening carefully every noise that came from the hallway. When the front door made a silent clicking noise I got stiff and hold my breath. He turned on the lights at the entrance of his room as he was taking of his shoes and jacket. With a big sigh he walked in the room looking at his phone texting. I was trying not to make any noise waiting for him when he will realise I’m in the room. He was walking to the coffee table but stumble over my luggage with a long French curse he steadied himself and looked at the luggage confused. I tried my best not to start giggling as he was studying my bag and stepped back from it.

“The fuck…I’m sure I put my luggage in the wardrobe.” He walked to his closet and I got up from the armchair and sneaked behind the door.

“That’s not yours.” I whispered and he jumped back in his surprise slamming the closet’s door and yelled throwing his phone away. “Hey babe.” I smiled at him childishly as he was looking at me with huge surprised eyes and his mouth open while his hand were on his chest.

“What the fuck!”

“Surprise” I raised both of my arm in the air with a wide smile on my lips. He grabbed me by my waist and slammed me on his body hugging me tight.

“Jesus Gina, you scared the shit out of me. “

“That was my whole point” I giggled and hugged him back. “You said that my pinky is your lucky charm, and it would be morbid to send my pinky via mail so I brought the rest of my body too.”

“How did you get in here?”

“Pyry” I smiled up on him

“Oh that fucker. That’s why he was acting weird the whole afternoon.” He cupped my cheeks in his palm and pulled me closer to him and kiss my lips. “I have missed you”

"Me too." I smiled in the kiss and stepped away from his embrace. "I have planned everything, I'm sitting in that armchair in the corner in the past twenty minutes waiting for you. You can walk pretty slow buddy."

"I was texting and calling you in the past half an hour, wondering why are you not answering when you are not even working." He was shaking his head with a smile. "I was about to change before the dinner with the guys, if you want I can call it off so we can have a dinner just the two of us...."

"No, it's okay! We can have the dinner with the guys." I smiled and picked my bag up from the bed. " Change and we can go." He nodded and disappeared in the bathroom.

—————————

"Gina! Hey!" Carlos jumped up from his seat and pulled me in a thight hug, when we stepped next to the table. Most of the drivers were sitting there alone or with their girl friends on their side.

"What are you doing here? Pierre did not mention that you will come." Charles got up too and hugged me.

"Because I did not know about it, she was sitting in the corner of my room like a creep." Pierre joked as he took a seat next to Charles and Charlotte, and I sat down next to him with Mick on my other side.

"You should have seen his face when he kicked my luggage, and oh god when he jumped back screaming when he heard my voice." I giggled and he nodged my side with his elbow. The guys were loudly chatting at the table while having a dinner, and after everyone moved around in the seat so can be easier to talk with the other person and not shouting from one side to the other. I sat closer to the Kelly and Charlotte so I can join in to their converstaion.

"So Gina, do you have any siblings back at home?"Kelly asked as she was playing with the straw in here drink.

"Yes I have three brothers . "

"Oh that's nice, so a big family. What about your parents are they helping with the bar too?" I got stiff and the smile on my face froze. The table was quiet everyone was looking at my way waiting for my answer. I cleared my troath before I started to speak.

"I.. uh... they are not. My dad passed away a long time ago.. and I don't know much about my mum..." I looked at my hand as I was playing with my fingers.

"Gosh I'm sorry that was really innapropriate to ask from me."Kelly started to apologise but I just looked up let a small smile on my face and waved it off.

"No worries, you had no idea. But if you excuse me.."I smiled at the group and stood up and walked out of the restaurant to the balcony.

I was looking at the street below the balcony, watching the whole street moving around cars honking here and there a few times. It was still busy.

"Amour..."

"Hey" I smiled as I turned my face to his way and seeing him standing in the door waiting. "I will be back in a minute there."

"I don't know if I should say I'm sorry because I know it won't really help... But if you want to talk about it I'm here for you, you know that right?"

"You have had no idea, so it's okay. I was sixteen when it happened. We don't really talk about it at home a lot. He was pretty sick, he had a brain tumor that the doctors could not help with the many surgeries he have had. I spent all my time with him in the hospital, if I was not in school. We can say I was always a Daddy's princess." I smiled up at him and tried to swallow the big lump in my throath. "At that time was when our mum left. I have only seen her at the funeral, I don't really know a lot about her. She lives somewhere back at home with her boyfriend. We are not really on speaking terms. After dad's passing we have had to sell our house because we could not pay out this medical bills. So everything we have now we built it up from the ground. We worked our asses off for it, I worked at two jobs while I was in university, the guys too. " I leaned back at the railing as I was staring into his eyes. He was quietly studying my face when I finished my monologe and took a step closer and pulled me in a hug.

"Oh Gina..." He whispered

"That is why I was acting a kind of weird when I met your mum. I wanted to have the best first expression knowing how important is she for you. But I don't know how to act with mothers. Becuase mine was not the best example..." I stepped back and wiped the single tear down from my cheek.

"She loves you. You had made the best expression." He assured me as he was caressing my upper arm. "Do you want to go back to the room or?"

"I don't want Kelly to feel more emberassed so we should go back to them. But I think I will go back to the room soon." I smiled at him and pulled him inside with me.

————————-

The dutch free practice was not going the way that Pierre has imagined. He was really frustrated even if they have expected that the dutch track is not their fild. He got out of the car pretty heated and went straight into his driver's room.

"Should I go after him?" I asked Pyry as he was sitting next to me in the garage. I was about to jump off the stool when Fabiana stepped in front of me with a serious look on her face. "Hi Fabiana, if you are looking for Pierre he just went into his room." I pointed at the room as I was smiling at her.

"I was actually looking for you." She started it, with a cold tone in her voice." We have some problems. I mean you two have some problems with the media..."

"Oh and what would it be?"

"Some fans saw you two on the balcony yesterday night." I was staring at here with a blank expression as the air got stuck in my throath. "They are already talking about it, because your figure can be perfectly seen." She held up her phone showing me the picture. It was taking when I went out in the balcony and one when we were talking and the last one was when we hugged eachother. "PR team is fuming now..."

"Shit... I mean I'm sorry I was not thinking.... Does he know about it? Because he is pretty frustrated now.." She just shook her head. "Should I be the one who have to tell him?"

"Yes, and try to find a solution for it so this won't happen in the weekend,..." She patted me on the shoulder and left without another word. I walked closer to his room with a big sigh, and waited and listen if I can hear something from the motorhome but it was quiet. I opened the door and stepped in but a glove just flew next to my head hitting the door's frame. "Hey." I whispered waiting for him to turn my way. "Can I come in?"

"Sure" He answered shortly still staring at his time table on the wall. I stepped in and closed the door behind me." I don't understand, how can he be faster then me when we have the same car?" He started after a long pause. "What's going on with you, you are really white..."

"Uh.. Fabiana had some words with me and you won't be happy about it. But I don't want to make it worse for you..."

"Just say it"

"Some fans saw us yesterday on the balcony and pictures are going around. And PR is not happy, because I can be seen well on the picture and there are rumours going around on the internet about you.. I'm sorry, I should not have come to the race. It was stupid move from me, because you asked me to lay low in the upcoming weeks..."

"Gina, you did nothing wrong..." he got up from the couch and grabbed both of my hands. “We are in this together, okay? I will talk to PR about it, and they will calm down. “

“Okay” I let out a small smile and kissed his cheeks. “You have some interviews to finish, you should change.” I caressed his cheeks and he turned his head to kiss my palm.

“Are you gonna help me to undress?” He smiled mischievously and started to play wit the hem of my shirt.

“I don’t want to piss off Fabiana more.” I swatted his hands away giggling. He just rolled his eyes before started to zip down his racing suite. “ I always thought you look so hot when you roll your suit down to your waist.” I mumbled as watching him and he was just laughing. “ I’ll wait outside better for the both of us but mostly for me.” I slipped out from the room with my blushing cheeks, but I could still hear his laughing.

——————————

“Are you gonna go home after the race?” We we’re currently laying in our room watching some kind of talk-show on the tv while we were eating our room service.

“Yea I have concert to go. We have bought the tickets for it month ago with the guys and with the girls.” I answered as I was munching on the salad in my lap.

“What kind of concert, I might want to come.” I nearly choked on my salad and I looked up at him with tears in my eyes. “What?”

“Honey, believe me this won’t be your concert.”

“Why? Just because it’s Hungarian?”

“No, because it’s metal.” I laughed at his expression

“You listen metal?”

“Have you looked at my brothers? Especially Peti, that dude looks like he got out from a metal store.” I was referring to my older brother’s look, he usually wears a band t-shirt his favourite black boots. ”What were you thinking about what type of music did we played with the guys?” I giggled as I put back the empty dish on the kart. “I can’t sing full metal songs but we used to play rock songs. But if you want to, you are welcome. I just don’t know if you would enjoy it.”

“Now I definitely want to come!” I was watching him with an amused smile as he was already searching for a ticket on the event’s page.

“Oh..” he stated when he saw the really mixed dressed group in front of the entrance.

“Just look at us too.” I laughed as I was pointing at our group. You could see my brothers in the band’s merch dressed up full on black, I was having on one of there merch pullover while Pierre was having on a Alpha Tauri shirt with a dark blue trousers. But in the crowd you can see someone in a fancy shirt next to a full rockers. “But everyone in here is nice, no one cares about where you come. We are here to have fun and to remember him.” I pointed at the poster next to the entrance. “He passed away last year, out of nowhere, he was battling with leukaemia and today would be his 31th birthday. “ I explained him as we walked in. “Okay for your information, the guys will probably disappear in the mosh pit. But that’s not really my thing and nor the girls so we will stand on the side.” I pointed at the venue’s right side.

I have been a few concerts from them, even when Örs there lead singer was alive and to be in a concert when he is not here was different but the guys still delivered the best show.

“Hey French man!” Roxy slapped on his shoulder as they have arrived. “Are you ready to see what this girl can do a concert like this?” She was pointing at me with a huge smile. “Aw you look scared buddy.”

“I am because I don’t know what to expect.” He let out a small chuckle as he was holding on his beer.

“The best show ever. Come on!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to the crowd. He looked back at me with a frightened expression on his face which I just reacted with a laugh.

I can say that I have never imagine that Pierre Gasly, the king of clubbing will be jumping around in a metal concert. I was screaming and shouting and dancing around with my friends and brothers in the crowd at some point he grabbed me hand and we were jumping around while we held hands together. He had no idea what was the lyrics but he seemed like he had just as much fun as we have had.

“Jesus, I have never thought that I will go to a concert like this and I will enjoy it” he was panting as the concert has ended. All of us were sweaty and tired and had a raspy voice due to all the screaming. “You guys can be crazy.” He was pointing at my best friends and me.

“Welcome to the dark side honey.” I wrapped my arm around his waist as he pulled me closer to his figure.

“I have never seen a sexier thing you screaming and having a blast. It made me remember a certain moment.” He leaned closer to my ear and whispered. Blush creeped up on my face and I hid my face in my free hand trying to somehow hide the blush from the others.

We said goodbye to the others from the group and walked back hand in hand to the way of my car. We parked close to the venue so we could reach the car quickly.

“Thank you for coming.” I looked at his was when we got in the car.

“I have to thank you. I really had fun. I mean this genre won’t be my new favourite but it was good to let some steam out. “ he had a genuine smile on his lips and slid his palm on my thigh. I was a really happy person that evening. I had a blast and he was enjoying it too. “I have a question for you. I mean it’s more like a proposal.” He rubbed his index finger on my thigh, and I snapped my head to his way.”No I mean, not like that.” He scoffed with a small laugh “ I mean, I have talked with your brothers. And surprisingly none of them wanted to kill me. "He joked and I just shook my head with a small smile" And next week will be Monza. That one is a important race for me since 2020. And I would love to have you there, but I know you have to work. Sooo here is the thing. Your brothers will cover the week for you, they insisted to tell you that it was their idea, they said that you have worked your pretty little ass for years and you should enjoy some free time too. So what do you say, wanna come to Monza with me, we can stay at my place in Milan for the first half, I can show you around we can spend some time together. “ He was studying my face as we stopped at the red light, and I was just staring at him.

“My brother’s went in with this without any problems?”

“Yes, why? Is that a bad thing?” He was concerned about the way I have acted.

“Oh no szívem my heart. It’s a huge thing. It means that they are trusting in you.” My voice broke at the and of the sentence. The thing is that with Belgium and with Netherlands I have had to convince my brothers for hours with the help of the girls. They are extremely protective. I’m there little sister, the last thing they want me to get hurt and that’s okay but sometimes they can really push it to the limit. And fall into being way too overprotective.

“So can you pack your bag when we get back to your place so we can head to the airport?”

“Tonight? It’s nearly 11pm. There are no flights now.”

“Babe, we are going with my private jet” he giggled “and I’m sorry sweety but that torture bench you call a bed back at yours is terrible. I would rather sleep in my own bed.”

“Oh shush…. You can sleep on the floor next time if you are not liking my bed.” I rolled my eyes as I was tapping on the steering wheel.

“I would rather fuck you in my own bed too. Or on the plane.” His finger got much closer to the crotch of my black jeans and the air got stuck in my throat. “Wanna get into the mile high club?” He was wiggling his eyebrows with a cheeky grin.

“I guess you are already a club member on that one.”

“I can help you get in there.” He winked at me and got out of the car as soon as we parked. He jogged to my side and opened the door. “So what do you say? Can I order a taxi to come?”

“Yes, just give me like half an hour.” I sighed and looked up at him. He grabbed both sides of my face and slammed his lips on mine.

"I have a one thing to ask from you as well" I started quietly as we were sitting on the airport waiting for the jet to arrive. I was holding a cup of tea in my takeaway cup swirling the warm drink in it around.

"You can ask whatever you want honey." He smiled at me pulling his sight away from his phone's screen.

"Okay so, Roxy has been in my ass about it to ask you. I know that after Monza you guys don't have a race for a a few weeks. And I also know that you have a thight scedhule and probably you have some event for that day. And don't let me even start on that there will be pictures taken and you cannot be seen with me. Oh gosh what was I even thinking." I was rambling really fast, before Pierre grabbed my chin and forced me to look in his eyes.

"Amour, stop rambling. And just ask me" He had a warm smile on his lips.

"Okay.. So would you like to be my partner at Roxy's wedding?"

"I thought you would never ask, I would love to be your partner." He whispered on my lips before kissing me softly. I sighed on his lips and let my sholder relax. "Also I would like to let you know that I have talked with PR. And...." He did not finished his sentence when my phone pinged popping a notification up on the screen.

@ pierregasly added to their story.

I looked back up at him with furrowing my brows and picked my phone up and checked the notification.

"What have you done now?" I asked him as I was waiting for the story to load.

"Showing everyone that I have had an amazing night with someone special." He whispered in my ear and kissed my neck.

🕊🖤👣 In loving memory of Siklósi Örs 👣🖤🕊

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piraticalarchive · 3 years

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normalize the idea that owning pets is not a right and is instead a privilege. and when you take on said animal, you take them on. it is not a ‘i will share my life with them until they become an inconvenience’ .. thank you and goodnight.

#i was thinking of my four legged 1300 pound best friend thats an asshole #that i got for a cup of coffee because the race trainer was just That Over It.#after i did my research i found out he had gone through 6 different barns in a year and a half #i was number 7.#he hated me. i disliked him.#he was nothing like what i wanted and i'm pretty sure that feeling was mutual.#i love him now though and he tolerates me so !!#but my thing is - he was the way he was because people took him and then passed him on #they ignored issues and said hmmMM don't want that #i made a promise to that psycho 9 years ago and its one im going to keep #now if something happens he goes to amy (obviously)#but originally he went to my best friend who knew him well #and if she can't take him for whatever reason she knows what to do #we owe animals time and effort.#sir shakes a lot. iggy. tank ... they all came from shitty people.#people who didn't own up to the fact they shouldnt own animals.

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kairakeiji · 2 years

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this is dangerous.

iwaizumi knows this, he knows this better than anyone at this point. no matter how much he wished to, no matter how much oikawa lectured him to do so, he couldn’t stay away from you. he tried, he really did, unfollowing you on all your socials, deleting your number, avoiding places he knew he would find you.

yet fate continues to pull you together.

it’s been weeks since you’ve seen each other, and the last time you did, your supposed goodbyes didn’t tide over too well. he still remembers it, when you and iwaizumi saw each other at the airport, one heading for argentina and one just leaving. (oikawa tried to time it so you wouldn’t see each other because he knows how bad it might be for iwaizumi, yet he still failed). he shudders just thinking about the way he foolishly asked you to catch up later, and the way you told him you had a flight to catch almost jokingly. it’s like you’re dodging his question, almost unsure of what you want, not giving him the answer he wants to hear.

but god he doesn’t care, your hesitancy continues to give him false hope.

he prays to never see you again after that, hopes that you don’t keep unknowingly leading him on by a single thread. yet when he sees you at his local coffee shop in the bitter hours of the morning, he stays put. he gets in line and pretends everything’s normal, despite the fact that everything’s screaming at him to turn around and come back another time.

because iwaizumi feels everything he’s ever felt towards you come rushing back the second you meet his gaze.

it’s mostly love, happy emotions, happy memories he just wishes he could forget. but somewhere in there, there’s sadness, disappointment in how you two left things during your break up, regret in the way he caved and spoke to you every time he saw you again. it served as a reminder almost, a reminder of the feelings and emotions he’ll have to suffer through if he doesn’t break this cycle.

but even then, he approaches you with hope, hope that this time will be different from the last.

“nice seeing you here,” he tells you after he orders.

“at six in the morning?” you yawn.

he can’t help but laugh, “why are you awake? you never wake up this early.”

he’s right, you don’t and you can’t help the memory that flashes in your head. it’s ten in the morning, haji- iwaizumi just got home from his morning run and you have breakfast ready for him. he’d kiss your temple good morning and you’d swat him away because he’s all sweaty only to kiss him in happiness when he shows you the coffee he bought from the coffee shop ten minutes away.

you’ve been avoiding that place ever since you broke up, it brings back too many good memories you want to forget.

but you can’t, because it’s iwaizumi, it’s hard to forget someone like him.

“i have an early morning meeting,” you tell him. “we’ve got a big launch in our company today and a celebration party tonight.”

“sounds nice,” he hums. “congrats on the launch by the way.”

and you smile because even though you broke up, he continued to remain nice to you, “thanks.” you look up at him, and god you wish you didn’t. “what about you?” you question. “you’re one to wake up early, but did work call you in too?”

he nods, “the uniform gave it away didn’t it?”

and you smile looking at japan’s flag sewn into his shirt, “japan’s national volleyball team,” you hum. “how exciting.”

“it’s not super exciting,” he tells you. “i’m just the trainer.”

“but you get to work with olympians,” you gush with a smile, and even after all these years iwaizumi’s heart races on seeing it. “isn’t that cool?”

“i guess,” he mumbles as the two of you grab your respective coffee cups, “they’re all idiots though.”

“really?” you scoff before taking a sip of your coffee, both of you walking out of the shop. “i feel like some of them would be all smart and strategic.”

“oh they are,” he agrees. “but other than that, they’re stupid.”

you laugh, and god he misses it so much.

the two of you stand outside the coffee shop, almost as if you’re unwilling to say goodbye to each other.

“they share a collective brain cell,” he tells you rather monotonously.

“really?” you smile.

“really,” he answers. “i used to play some of them in high school, and they’re still so similar to how they were back then.”

“how so?” you ask.

“remember the ginger from karasuno?”

your eyes widen, “of course i do, the one who jumps really high and stuff?”

iwaizumi nods, “he’s on the team with his setter again. the two still argue as they did back in high school. actually, a lot of them bicker all the time, it’s weird.”

you can’t help but laugh at his words. “well at least they have someone like you to take care of them,” you reassure.

he raises a brow, “what do you mean?”

the distance between you two slowly shrinks, neither of you noticing it.

“i mean you’re reliable and sweet and kind,” you shrug, “i’m certain they’re grateful to have you.”

and your words bring a smile to iwaizumi’s face as he almost instinctively shuffles closer.

god, he wants to kiss you.

and by the way, you’re looking at him, he knows you do too.

“should we be doing this?” you mumble, in the small space between your lips.

“i’m not sure,” he answers, voice barely above a whisper.

“i’m not either,” you murmur.

yet you kiss him anyway.

his free hand cups your cheek, and he can taste the coffee on your lips. it’s all so familiar. everything comes back to him, the memories of your old relationship rushing back. he misses it, he misses the memories and the routines, he misses when you were a part of his life. he missed waking up to you, he missed the movie nights, and the breakfasts you’d make. he missed the way your eyes light up when you got excited over something, he missed the way your kisses always caught him off guard. he missed this.

he missed you.

it’s been years since he called you his, but iwaizumi’s still in love with you.

you meet his gaze as he pulls away, your eyes searching for answers.

but iwaizumi gives them to you before you answer.

“i miss you,” there’s almost no hesitation in his voice. “i’ve missed you all this time.” yet even with the certainty in his voice, there’s fear in his eyes, anxiousness that he’s laying everything on the line just to get absolutely rejected. “yn i still lo-”

you don’t let him finish.

instead, you let your actions do the talking,

and iwaizumi can’t help but smile when your lips find his once more. it’s almost as if he finds all his answers in your kiss. he doesn’t want to let go, he doesn’t want to pull away just yet, he’s too busy making up for lost time.

you pull away with a grin on your face, “so i’ve got this event tonight.”

and iwaizumi smiles, “i’m aware.”

“and it just so happens i’m in need of a plus one,” you tell him.

“i’d love it if you’d come with me.”

his smile grows wider as he nods, “i’d love to.”

i love himmm sobs

thanks for reading! reblogs are always appreciated <33

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edie-baby · 3 years

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we're okay, we're alright | lando norris

summary: When Lando Norris has a panic attack, McLaren's personal assistant, Olivia McKinnon, is there to calm him down. Even if they have to penguin walk.

word count: 2337

warnings: panic attacks

When a seventeen year old Olivia McKinnon first joined the McLaren F1 team as a personal assistant to their drivers, Fernando Alonso and Stoffel Vandoorne were in the cockpits, and she got along well with both of them. Fernando had become a bit of an uncle to the teenager, teaching her Spanish whenever she asked, and ruffling up her hair in the most inconvenient of situations. Stoffel was much like an older brother, he joked around with her, teased her endlessly, and was always quick to worry if anything happened to her - he also threatened to beat up her boyfriend when she found out he was cheating on her, but that’s beside the point.

The day the news broke that two new drivers would be filling the seats of the two men she was incredibly close to, it shocked Oli. She was finally getting used to the specifics of the older men’s orders - how they liked coffee, water, what food they liked in what moods, who they were always happy to answer calls from, and who to consistently avoid. And now she’d be having to learn it for two completely new people.

Carlos Sainz she had seen around the paddock, never spoken to nor been introduced to, however after the first few weekends of seeing her multiple times, they began exchanging smiles in passing. He seemed nice, and Oli figured she might be able to continue her Spanish lessons if they got on well enough.

Lando Norris however, Oli had a complicated relationship with. They had bumped into each other multiple times around the MTC when he was there for meetings or sim work, or during race weekends when he hung around the McLaren garage on account of him being a test and reserve driver. Zak introduced them multiple times, sure that a friendship would blossom between the two youngins quite quickly, however Lando was always quick to leave whenever Oli was near. After wondering if she had offended him, or done something wrong, she began to worry and spoke to Zak about the issue, not wanting to have tension between her and one of the men she would be working for. Zak spoke with Lando a few days later, and found out in quite a memorable conversation, exactly why Lando had such an aversion to the small brunette.

“I’m scared of her.” Lando muttered ashamedly. Zak couldn’t help but bark out a laugh, that the boy who drove fast cars was scared of a five foot two pixie of a girl who had a beaming smile and cute nose.

“How? She’s so small.” Zak chuckled, the image of Lando cowering away from a girl six inches shorter than him was one he wouldn’t forget.

“I don’t know, she’s just so scary. I feel like if she wanted to, she could say five words and I would be ruined. Completely, like she could tear me apart in a sentence. I also think she could probably take me in a fight.” Lando replied, fiddling with the bracelet on his right wrist, a nervous habit he had developed after his Mum gifted it to him. Zak merely laughed in response, a fond smile crossing his face at the young driver. He could see from the beginning the two were made for each other, Lando didn’t know it yet but it seemed he already had a very strong connection with the girl.

“Anyone could take you in a fight, Lando. Just be nice to her and I’m sure she won’t bite. Unless you ask, of course.” Zak teased, thankful for his easy going and close relationship with the eighteen year old. Lando went bright red, covering his cheeks with a nervous laugh, the serious eyes Zak was giving him pushing him to flee the room in the mess of flushed cheeks and embarrassed laughter.

“Oli! Have you seen Carlos or Jon?” Charlotte yelled, startling the brunette who was pouring over the weekend’s schedule. Olivia looked up, shaking her head at Charlotte who sighed in frustration.

“According to his schedule, Carlos should be in interviews for the next hour, and Jon should be floating around somewhere. Why? What’s gone on?” Oli questioned, double checking the schedule in front of her.

“I think Lando’s having a panic attack and I don’t know how to calm him down. I figured one of the boys would know.” Charlotte rushed out, causing Oli to stand up from her chair abruptly. She had dealt with many panic attacks during her high school years and knew firsthand how hard it was to ground yourself sometimes.

“Where is he?” Oli demanded, already gathering her belongings on the table while Charlotte pointed wordlessly to the drivers’ rooms. Oli set off, jogging through the McLaren hospitality, making a beeline for the Brit’s room. When she got up there, the door was partially open, and that was enough for Oli to push the door all the way open, then quickly closing it behind her to give Lando some privacy.

“Lando? It’s Olivia, Charlotte’s out looking for Jon and Carlos at the moment. She said you were having a panic attack, and I don’t know if you have them much but I wanted to try some breathing with you? You just have to follow along with what I’m doing, okay sweetheart? Big breath in through your nose, one, two, three, four. Now hold that breath in, two, three, four. And let it out through your mouth, one, two, three, four, five, six. Okay, we’re going to do it again. In, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. And out, two, three, four, five, six.” Oli attempted the most well known ‘calm the fuck down’ technique, something that never really worked for her but was often good for others. Lando didn’t seem to be able to hear anything she was saying, barely reacting to her presence when the door opened.

He was curled up in the corner of the small bed, his back against the wall, legs pulled tight up to his chest. His breaths were heavy and uneven, and Oli wondered how long he had been breathing like this as it most definitely wasn’t good for his oxygen consumption.

“Sweetheart, I’m going to try something different. I’m going to talk, and I want you to focus on my voice. You don’t need to listen to what I’m saying if you can’t, but just listen to the noise, alright?” Olivia tried again, slowly making her way to the bed. She sank down onto her knees in front of the bed, trying to come off as non-threatening as possible.

“You know, I really like your shoes. I usually don’t like the look of trainers, I’m more of a sneakers girl myself, but they look really nice. But we’ll have to get you some cool socks, they’ll get hidden by your pants most of the time but it’s always fun to have a bit of a secret. I’m wearing beer socks right now. They’re pretty cute, and no one can tell unless I pull my jeans up.” Oli’s ramblings didn’t seem to be doing much to help Lando either, his breathing and rocking completely undisturbed. Olivia wanted to try one more thing before she began repeating the process of different techniques.

She stood up, leaning slightly against the bed Lando was curled on and reached her hand out slowly. She aimed for his bicep, the skin to skin contact startled something in Lando and he jumped. Oli moved back immediately, scared that she had made everything worse when Lando’s hands landed on her own arms, hauling her pliant body up onto the bed and curling his body around her. His head rested next to her shoulder, his nose lightly brushing the fabric of her team shirt, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. He was still curled up quite a bit, his knees tucked close to his chest, the bony joints resting against Oli’s hips.

She heard Lando sniffle and turned to look at him immediately, a choked sob left his lips as tears trailed on a warpath down his tanned face. Oli wrapped her arms around Lando, pulling his head to rest on her upper chest, close enough to her heart that he would be able to hear it beating, whilst not completely smothering him in her boobs. Her hands began brushing through Lando’s hair, listening to the heartbreaking sounds of him sobbing so hard he was coughing.

“It’s okay sweetheart. You’re gonna be okay.” Oli whispered, her lips brushing the top of Lando’s forehead. His sobs began slowing, turning into whimpers and sniffles, then finally stopping to the rare sniffle.

“I’m sorry.” Was the first thing from the driver’s lips when he had calmed himself down. He attempted to untangle himself from his assistant, but she only held on tighter. Lando relaxed straight away, her fingers carding through his curls was so soothing that he could have fallen asleep right there.

“Do not apologise. There’s not a single thing to be sorry for, honey. Are you feeling a little better now? Your breathing is much better and your tears have stopped.” Olivia spoke, softly brushing the slowly drying tear tracks with the back of her index finger, the gentleness of her touch causing a lone tear to fall from Lando’s eye, catching on Olivia’s hand. He hadn’t been touched like this in so long, and knowing that she was only doing it because it was her job could have sent him spiralling again, but Oli caught the look swimming in his eyes.

“Hey, hey! Look at me, okay? We’re okay. We’re alright. Do you want to come with me to get you some water? Maybe a cup of tea? And we should get you a hoodie, you’re shivering like crazy, love.” Olivia was so patient with him, allowing him a few moments to process everything she was saying and speaking a little slower than she usually would. She made a move to get up, her arm outstretched reaching for a hoodie hung over the back of the couch that she presumed Lando had ripped off when he first got in the room. Just as her fingers grasped the material, Lando tightened his arms around her, his breath hitching at the lessened contact with the only thing that was holding him together at that point.

“Honey, I need to get your hoodie. You’re freezing and you’ll get sick if you don’t rug up soon. Look, we can shuffle over there together.” Oli held tight to Lando, scooching her body closer to the edge of the uncomfortable bed to reach out for the teen’s hoodie. She got it this time, letting out a breath that she had held in order to stretch her appendage further. She turned back to Lando, his orange and grey hoodie clutched tightly in her hands, his arms still wrapped in a death grip around her waist.

“Can you sit up for me? You’ll feel better once you’re warmer, and you can go right back to holding me once this is on, I promise.” Olivia assured, using her warm hands to coax Lando into a sitting position, his arms still around her, legs coming to rest on either side of her hips as she sat on her knees. His thighs were pressed tightly against hers, trying to keep as many points of contact with her as physically possible, and she would be lying if she said it wasn’t comforting.

Slowly, Oli got one arm off her waist, slipping the orange hoodie onto Lando’s arm, letting him return it to her back once it was pushed up far enough. She did the same with the other arm, pulling it over his head moments after. Once the hood was down off his head, Olivia fixed his hair, small fingers threading through his curls in an attempt to return them to their previous perfection. Lando remained in his spot, eyes trained on a spot on the floor just over Oli’s shoulder.

“How about that water, sweetheart? I don’t care if we have to penguin walk there.” Oli joked, and she saw a flicker of confusion pass over Lando’s face. She figured it would be something to explain in detail at a later date, instead choosing to spin in her spot on the table, still folded up on her knees with Lando’s legs around her.

Olivia slipped off the bed, her own hands covering Lando’s to reassure him that he could keep them around her waist, his body following hers onto his own two feet when she got too far away from him. Oli continued shuffling forward slowly, hands still holding Lando’s while he followed her small steps to the door of the room.

“Are you okay?” Olivia whispered, feeling Lando curl himself around her more, his chin coming to rest over her shoulder, his curls tickling the underside of his jaw. She felt him nod against her and took it as her queue to open the door and begin the slow adventure to the canteen in the hospitality centre. It took them about three times as long as it usually would, and garnered a lot more looks than usual, however a lot of those stares were in awe of the young couple shuffling through the building. The innocence the two possessed while both working in such a cutthroat environment was adorable, the naivety in their unwillingness to let go of each other.

Zak Brown checked his phone when it buzzed, only to be greeted with a video of the company’s youngest employees that he had a certain fatherly protectiveness over. And after seeing them together, much of the McLaren staff were extremely protective of the two youngsters. They were comforted that their young driver had found someone he trusted and could rely on like the two before them.

The connection they made was an unbreakable one, and there was a bright future for McLaren with Lando and Olivia taking on everything side by side.

#lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfiction #lando norris x oc #lando norris imagine #Lando Norris fanfic #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #ln4

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atlafan · 4 years

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Heal - One Shot

a/n: werewolffry is here!! I rewrote this like three different times because supernatural au’s are just not my thing, but I’m pretty happy with how this turned out. I didn’t research anything, I sort of just came up with my own lore, and based some of it off of the show Teen Wolf, but not by much. Feedback and reblogs are super helpful, I can’t wait to know what you think! I have some other Halloween requests, but keep them coming! I’m hoping to post one every week until Halloween. Enjoy! (not proofread)

Warnings: Fluff, a little angst, smut (pegging)

Words: 14.8K

Harry, Niall, and Louis are all werewolves; it was that simple. What wasn’t simple was they were university students, trying to live regular lives. The three of them all came from different families, but these families had truces, so they were allowed to interact. Over the years, hunters had started breaking their codes, and wolf numbers were starting to dwindle, so many families were starting to extend their packs to keep everyone safe.

Harry’s family was probably one of the most important; they were healers. Healers were a rare and special breed of werewolf. They were basically the wizards of their kind. All werewolves had the ability to heal themselves, sure, and they could take the pain away from others, but healers had the ability to fix broken bones, extract bullets and close wounds without stiches, they had herbs and “potions” to help humans when they felt so inclined. They were pure, kind, and empathetic. Anne was the head, the matriarch, and Gemma was next in line. However, Harry, needed to be protected at all costs. Male healers…they were easily persuaded, and often got a little too attached to the people they mated with. The women were much more reserved, careful, so when Harry was in secondary school, and started dating…Anne had Gemma give him a little talk about the birds and the bees.

Now, there were no rules saying that wolves couldn’t date or mate with regular people. Because of the dwindling numbers over the years, many partners were being turned. It was essentially like going through the process of converting religions. There was some studying involved, some promises that needed to be made, and some understandings on both parties’ sides.

The boys had all grown up together, and they all learned how to fight and protect themselves, although, Harry hated fighting. As a healer, he had his qualms about hurting other people. He’d always feel bad if he accidentally hurt one of his trainers, rushing to their side immediately to help them. Louis, once a very free spirit, had become hardened after becoming the leader of his family’s pack. No one blamed him, his immediate family got murdered by hunters. Now all of his cousins and other family members looked to him for guidance. It was why he took a gap year before going to university. He also wanted to wait to be able to go with Harry and Niall. Anne was grateful that Louis would be watching over her son. Niall was great and all, but he could be a proper dolt in his own right. He was a skilled fighter, but that was about all he had going for him.

They were going into their second year, and this year they had a flat all to themselves. Being in the dorms…well, it was nothing short of a disaster. They were in a triple their first year, and that was just not enough space for three young werewolves. Now they all had their own rooms so they could do as they pleased. Harry was excited to start his new semester. There was a girl he enjoyed the scent of that worked at the bookstore café last year, and he hoped she would be returning. She was the only one that made his coffee correctly. Not that Harry was snooty, but he was practically royalty, so he had his moments where he acted a little spoiled. He wasn’t sure how someone could fuck up a small black coffee with a little butter in it, but if it wasn’t her who made it, it was fucked up. She was American, so he had no idea if she had just been studying abroad last semester or not.

As much as he frequented the bookstore café, he didn’t say more than his coffee order to her. It killed him. He wanted to flirt with her, tell her how good she smelled, and god, did she smell good. It’s what drew him into the café in the first place, the scent of honey and vanilla. He didn’t talk to her because he didn’t know her, he didn’t know her family. Anyone Harry dated in secondary school he had known his whole life. He knew if they came from a hunter or not. He wasn’t sure how things worked for werewolves in the states. He had no idea if the codes were different, and anytime he asked his mother about it she just told it was something he didn’t need to worry about. The girl seemed nice enough, but Gemma had explained to Harry long ago that male healers were gullible when it came to the people they wanted to mate with.

That’s not to say Harry didn’t mate…he mated often, but mostly with people he had no mental attachment to. He didn’t like the idea of not having a lot of control over his mind, so he stuck to random hook ups. At first he didn’t believe Gemma when she first explained everything to him once he hit puberty, but when he found himself in the woods one night with a rabbit in his teeth that he had killed for his regular girlfriend, he understood. He dropped it out of his mouth. “She’s not a werewolf, she won’t want that.” Gemma had said as she put a hand on his shoulder. “I know you want to please her, but this isn’t the way.” She had chuckled. His sister had laughed at him. He didn’t want to give her a reason to do that again. Granted, he was fifteen, and in puppy-love, but still.

He had learned to control himself, as did Niall and Louis, when it came to the people he was attracted to. He was cautious and observant, and perhaps would just admire from afar. Much to his delight, and surprise, as he was walking around campus with Niall and Louis before classes started, he saw the girl in the bookstore window helping put out inventory. Harry smiled to himself. Even if he was still too shy to get to know her, he could at least sleep peacefully knowing he’d be getting a decent cup of coffee.

Working at the university bookstore was an easy gig. Sure, once in a while Y/N would get a disgruntled student who wasn’t pleased about how expensive a book or a sweatshirt was, but other than that things were pleasant. She loved seeing prospective students and their excited families come in to buy their first piece of memorabilia. The bookstore also house a small café for students to grab some coffee and a pastry, and sometimes they’d stay to do some studying. Sometimes she was behind the bar making drinks, sometimes she’d be working the register, and other times she’d be in the back taking stock.

One of her favorite customers was a boy she barely knew, but had seen around campus plenty. His name was Harry, and he’d order a whipped black coffee with butter every morning. She didn’t work every morning, but any morning she was working, she’d make it for him. Or, that’s how it was last semester, anyways. She had no idea what year he was, he could have finished school last year for all she knew. Y/N chose to study abroad for the entirety of her college career. She had done some traveling in high school, and loved it. She felt way more independent going to school in England, and way more adult. She and her roommates had their own flat this year, and she was excited to really make the space her own. She was in a cramped dorm last year, so having her own room was a major step up.

It was syllabus week, but she was dreading her Calculus class. It was the last math class she needed, thank god. In her first year she had to take algebra, and then precalc. She was a biology student, so she needed Calculus. It was just a lot to balance with her other major courses. Taking bio, chem, and math classes all at the same time was a pain in the ass. Another pain in the ass was that there weren’t a ton of other girls in her classes. Just awkward boys who thought they were smarter than her. She can’t help her jaw from dropping when she sees Harry walk into the classroom. His eyes scan over his options and then widen when he sees her. He knew he smelt something good. He smirks when he sees her obviously flustered, and he walks over slowly to sit down next to her. He flashes her his award winning, shit eating grin, and takes a notebook out of his backpack. He could feel her heart racing, and he almost felt bad, but her heart did that every time he came into the bookstore café. At first he thought it just did that because she was busy, but he realized soon he just made her nervous. Another reason he didn’t say more than a few words to her, until today that is.

Harry turns slightly to look at her, resting his cheek on his fist. She does a double take and sees he’s looking at her. She furrows her brows at him.

“Sorry, you just look really familiar.” He says. “Don’t mean to stare.” He was trying to play it cool. He didn’t want to seem like a stalker.

“Oh! It’s okay, um, I…I work at the campus bookstore.”

“That’s right! You’re the girl who knows how to make my coffee. I think you’re the only one who works there that can do it right.” He sighs.

“It’s not difficult.” She mumbles. “Maybe it’s just the unusual order that throws the others off.”

“Adding butter to coffee isn’t that unusual.” He rolls his eyes. He was talking to her like they were old friends. Maybe in his mind they were. She blinks at him. “What?”

“Nothing…it’s just, well, this is the most you’ve ever spoken to me.” She blushes slightly and takes a pull from her water bottle.

“I could say the same thing to you, you know?” He smirks.

“I’m not the one with the intimidating eyebrows.” She points at his face. “You’re very serious looking.” She gives him a soft smile to let him know she’s only teasing and he smiles back.

“I’m a bit shy, nothing more to it than that. Promise I’m not some scary monster.” God, the irony could have killed him alone.

“Um, how come you’re in calc one? Like, what’s your major?”

“Art History.” She blinks at him again. “I’m an allied health minor, need stats and calc for that.”

“Oh!” She laughs. “Makes sense.”

“What about you?”

“Biology. This is the last math class I need, thank god.”

“Not a fan of math?”

“It’s not that I’m not, I’m just annoyed. I took calculus in high school, but I didn’t know about the math placement assessment last summer, so I had to start out in college algebra last fall. Big waste of time.” She sighs. “Art History and allied health, that’s an interesting combination.”

“Needed a backup, you know how parents can be.”

Truth be told, Harry would go off to be a doctor if he could, but he’d expose himself no doubt. People would catch on to him working “miracles”. It was the empath in him, he just wanted to help anyone and everyone. His mother allowed him the minor for a couple of reasons. One, to scratch his itch for wanting to help people, and two, to learn more about how the body worked so he could properly heal others.

“I totally get it.” She scoffs.

“What do you want to do with bio?”

“I haven’t quite figured out my specialization yet. I don’t think I want to be a doctor doing surgeries, maybe forensics? Working in a lab, that kind of stuff?”

“That’s noble work.” He smiles and she smiles back. “Are you working at the bookstore again this year?”

“Mhm.” She nods. “Sort of have to if I wanna afford things.” She chuckles.

“Cool, good to know I can still get my coffee how I like it.”

“Is that all I’m good for?”

His eyebrows raise as her lips curl up. Oh, she was flirting with him. He has to suppress every urge in his body to not just yank her out of the classroom and take her home with him.

“We’ll have to see how well you do in this class. You may also be good for tutoring.” He wasn’t bad at math, but maybe he could pretend to be if it meant they could start hanging out.

She rolls her eyes at him and shakes her head.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.” She says as the professor walks in.

“Harry.” He whispers, and the class gets started.

Y/N bursts through her door later that day. Her roommates were getting lunch started.

“You’ll never guess what happened in calc! That hot guy that used to come into the café last year is in my class, and he sat next to me! He remembered who I was, and he remembered the way I make his coffee. I swear to god we were flirting, oh my fucking god!” She squeals and her friends giggle.

“Slow down, Y/N.” Talia says to her. “He’s just a guy.”

“But he’s not.” Y/N pouts. “He’s so fucking hot, and he seems really sweet.”

“It’s not a great idea to shit where you eat.” Georgie says. “I hooked up with a guy in one of my classes last year and it was super awkward.”

“Who said I was going to jump into bed with him?” Y/N scoffs. “Maybe I just wanna be his friend.” She shrugs and grabs a cheese stick out of the fridge.

“Mhm, a friend who you’d like to bone.” Talia smirks.

��Well…it’s not like I haven’t thought about it. He’s so handsome…he probably sees lots of girls. Although, I’m pretty sure if he snapped his fingers I’d take my pants off for him.”

All of the girls laugh as they eat. This semester would be interesting to say the least.

Harry started chatting up Y/N in class after that first day, and he went to the bookstore café every time she worked. Even if he wasn’t in the mood for a coffee, he’d pretend like he was, but it didn’t go much deeper than that. His life was complex, and he had to be careful about who he brought into it.

As he got older, Harry realized he had the ability to shift completely into a wolf, but only on full moons. All werewolves could do this, they just needed to reach a level of maturity to do so, and it was extremely dangerous because if they stayed like that for too long, it was difficult to shift back. However, Harry enjoyed going out on the full moon and just running around it his heart’s desire. It also served to satisfy many of his primal instincts. He could go out and kill a small animal, eat, and feel zero remorse about it. The catch was you had to be naked before shifting, and you’d shift back naked, so you had to leave yourself clothes. Niall thought it would be funny to steal Harry’s clothes after he shifted back.

It was extremely early in the morning, and Harry was standing in the middle of the woods naked. Normally it wouldn’t be a big deal, he could just hop from tree to tree, and get back unnoticed, but he found himself in a well-traveled runner’s path. Plus, he was tired from a night out of wolfing it up, so excuse him for not being thrilled with Niall’s prank. He had learned to control his body temperature, so it’s not like he was cold, he was just annoyed. He needed to listen carefully to every little thing. From afar he hears music and someone breathing heavily. Normally he wouldn’t be so phased, but the scent was familiar. Harry freezes when he realized it’s Y/N, so he quickly hides behind a tree. If she was ever going to see him naked it wouldn’t be like this.

Her music wasn’t up terribly loud, she wasn’t an idiot. Running alone early in the morning meant she couldn’t just zone out, no, she needed to be aware of her surroundings. However, it was fall and she was running in a wooded area, so she strips over a hidden tree root. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but it catches her ankle the wrong way, and Harry can feel the ligaments snapping. He winces for her. That wasn’t even the worst of it. Because of the way she twisted as she fell, her head knocked into the stump of the tree, and it knocked her out.

“Shit.” Harry says to himself as he peers at her limp body.

He had a couple of options. He could easily pretend he didn’t see what happened, and continue to get home unnoticed and let someone else find her, or he could go over there, pick her up, and take her to his place to heal her. He goes with the latter, physically not being able to just leave her. He looks around to make sure no one else was coming, and he strolls over to her. He kneels beside her, putting his palm over her forehead to make sure she was really knocked out. He didn’t want to startle her if she woke up. Something about seeing a naked man over your unconscious body…it probably work out well for him. He closes his eyes for a moment, just to take a little of her pain away, then he hoists her up, carrying her bridal style. He takes a deep breath, his eyes glow red, and then he sprints through the trees back to his flat.

“Took you long enough, what did you do, take extra-long to make me feel bad?” Niall says as he opens the front door. His eyes widen when he sees Harry carrying the girl.

“Got a bit side tracked.” He grunts as he walks in.

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.” He scoffs. “She tripped, and got hurt. I need to take her up to my room to help her. Where’s Lou?”

“He went to the market, we were low on groceries.”

“Good, keep him occupied when he gets back. I don’t think he’d be terribly happy about this.”

Niall nods as Harry carries Y/N up the stairs. He lays her down gentle on his bed, and her eyes flutter open some as he walks to his dresser. She thinks she dreaming because she can faintly see a man’s ass, a perfect ass might she add, and then her eyes rolls back into her head, passing out yet again. Harry grabs some things from his closet, namely a first aid kit. He starts with her ankle. He wraps his large hand around it, taking her pain away. He couldn’t take it all, and he couldn’t fully heal her. That would be too suspicious. He’d need to leave her in a little bit of pain. He heals her ligaments, though, and leaves it to make it feel like she may have just twisted it the wrong way. He wraps a makeshift splint on her for show, and then he moves to her poor head. She had an egg growing out of it, so he takes a deep breath and pops it back in with his thumb. He rubs his palm over her skull to feel around for the potential of a concussion, but he doesn’t feel anything that serious. She’d have a headache at most so he gets up and grabs a water bottle from the case in his closet, and a couple of aspirin from the first aid kit. Since he’s dressed now, and she’s mostly better, he feels like he can wake her up now. He nudges her shoulder gently, and her eyes flutter back open. She flinches when she sees him.

“H-Harry?” She sits up, and winces, grabbing at her ankle. “What’s going on?” She whimpers, and he thinks it’s about the cutest thing he’s ever seen. Her bottom lip slightly jutting out as she assesses herself.

“I was going for a run this morning, uh, the same path you were on I’m assuming, and I saw you trip. You hit your head pretty hard, so I carried you back here, I hope that’s alright.”

“You…you carried me all that way?”

“You’re not exactly heavy.” He mutters, and her cheeks grow red. “Here, uh, do you want some aspirin?”

“Yeah, thanks.” She takes the two pills out of his palm and the water bottle. “My head really hurts.” She looks down at her ankle. “Do you make this splint?”

“I didn’t know if you twisted it or sprained it, so I thought it would be good as a precautionary measure. I think you caught it on a tree root.”

“I’m usually a lot more careful than that…I’m sorry if I troubled you, or ruined your run.”

“You didn’t.” He smiles. “I’m just glad you’re okay, Y/N.”

She gazes at him. Before she can speak his door flies open.

“Harry.” Louis says. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Hey, mate, thanks for knocking.” Harry grits his teeth.

“I need to speak with you and Niall, so take your friend home, now.” He leaves and slams the door shut. Harry sighs heavily and looks at her.

“Sorry about him, he, uh, gets uptight about house rules. Niall probably left the milk out overnight or something.” Harry shrugs. He could feel her worry radiating off her.

“It’s okay…you don’t have to take me home I should be able to make it.” She swings her legs over the side of the bed, and uses his shoulder to help her stand. She winces once her bad foot hits the ground.

“It’s really no problem. I’d feel better knowing you got back okay.”

“You’ve done enough, Harry.” She winces again as she takes a step. Maybe he should have taken more of her pain away. Now he feels guilty.

“I could give you a piggy back ride.” Her eyebrows raise at him. “Would you like that?” He chuckles.

“I…you’d really carry me all the way to my apartment?”

“It’s a flat, darling, we’re not in America.” He rolls his eyes and her face flushes at the term of endearment used so condescendingly. “And yeah, I’d carry you. I bet you’re not even that far away, c’mon.” He wraps his arm around her wrist to get her to stand behind him as he squats. She climbs onto his broad back and he lifts her effortlessly. “Light as a feather, you are. Now, where do you live?” He asks as he takes her out of his room and down the stairs.

“24D…Pine Street.”

“Pine’s barely a block away from here.” He looks over his shoulder and smiles at her on the way out.

“Won’t we look funny like this?” She nearly whispers as he carries her down the street.

“Nah, we probably just look like a proper couple. I’ve got no problem with that…do you?”

“No.” She rests her chin on his shoulder. She inhales some of his cologne and she likes what she smells. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but he just smelled really good to her. “You’re a proper cutie, Harry.”

“Look at you using our slang.” He chuckles. “I am pretty cute, huh?”

“Try being humble, hm?” She nudges the top of his head and it makes him laugh.

His grip on her tightens when they reach the front steps of her flat.

“Hand me your key.”

“I can make it from here.”

“I have to make sure you get inside okay.”

“I will, Harry. I…I’d like to run myself a bath, and I don’t need you there for that.”

“You don’t? Too bad, I’m an excellent bath buddy.”

“Put me down.” She says with a shaky voice, and he smirks. He gently lets her down to her feet and he turns to look at her. “Thank you for being so kind…”

“Do you often run alone?”

“Yeah, my roommates don’t really like it. I don’t blame them, running’s the actual worst, but I don’t really like lifting weights much, so it’s the lesser of two evils for me.”

“Text me sometime, I’d go running with you.” He fishes his phone out of his pocket and hands it to her.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He smiles. “We could be two proper cuties out running together.”

“Mhm, okay.” She scoffs as she puts her number in his phone and texts herself. She hands it back to him.

“I mean it, you’re very cute.” She rolls her eyes at him. “You are! Especially in calc when your brows are all furrowed when you’re concentrating.” He steps a little closer to her. “You get this very serious pout on your face, it’s adorable.”

“Why…why are you watching me in class, and not paying attention?”

“You’re distracting.” It wasn’t a lie, and it wasn’t meant to be sexist. He wasn’t a little boy getting a stuffy from a bra strap, but she always smelled so good, and anytime she moved he’d get a fresh whiff of her. She looks down at her tattered sneakers and then back to him. She felt like she could easily get lost in his eyes. “Will you let me know later how you’re feeling?”

“Yes.” He nods at that and starts walks down her steps as she keys into her flat. “Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m…working later if you wanna come by the café.”

He grins at her and turns to keep walking. She takes a deep breath as she gets inside. She had a lot of squealing to do with her roommates.

“Tell me again why you thought it would be a good idea to leave Harry, of all people, in the woods naked? I know you’re bored because you’re not allowed to be on the football team, I’m bored too, but that doesn’t mean you can prank him like that.” Louis was scary when he got mad at the boys. He didn’t yell, but you could hear the clear disappointment in his voice, and that was ten times worse. “Well? I’m waiting for an answer, Niall.”

“I guess I wasn’t really thinking.” He mumbles as he sits with Harry on the couch. The two of them looked like little puppies being scolded for shitting on the rug.

“No, you weren’t.” Louis huffs. “And you.” He looks at Harry. “You thought helping a girl, while naked, was an equally good idea?”

“I couldn’t just leave her there!”

“I know you couldn’t.” Louis sighs. “You just shouldn’t have been left alone. We’ve been lucky at this school so far, I’d like to keep things as easy going as they are. You brought a total stranger here.”

“She’s not a total stranger.” Harry mumbles as he twiddles his thumbs. “She’s that girl I’ve been crushing on from the bookstore, and she also happens to be in my calc class…so I know her.”

“We don’t know if she’s harmless or not.” Louis says.

“Looked pretty harmless when Harry carried her in like a limp noodle.” Niall chuckles, and Louis shoots daggers at him, getting him to shut up.

“Did she question anything?” Louis asks.

“No…I didn’t heal her fully so she wouldn’t be suspicious.” He runs a hand through her hair. “I had to help her, she smells to fucking good to not help.”

“You’ve mentioned that a couple of times, but I’m not smelling it.” Niall says. “Smells like any other regular person.”

“It’s because he likes her. You know how it is for us, we really like the way a person smells when we really like them. It proves the attraction.” Louis sits down on the coffee table in front of them.

“And I know she likes me back.” Harry says proudly.

“Yeah? How?” Niall inquires.

“Well, not only did she tell me I was cute, but she gets aroused around me all the time, especially today when I took her home. I could smell it. I’ve been trying to be careful and not act on anything, but I don’t think I can do that anymore.”

“No one ever said you couldn’t date.” Louis says. “You just need to be careful. You know how easily you lot can get attached.”

“I’m fully aware.” Harry rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, I won’t be going out into the woods to fetch her a dead rabbit.”

Harry started coming by the bookstore even more after that. Y/N had told her friends what happened, that basically Harry was her knight in shining armor. She got excited every time he’d walk into the bookstore. Even if it wasn’t a shift where she was making coffee, she’d make his for him. A flirty friendship had started to form between the two of them. Sometimes he’d come at the end of her shift so he could walk her home, or they’d go grab a bite to eat. She wondered why the most they had done is hold hands, but she didn’t mind that he was taking things slow with her, it was actually a breath of fresh air. And the antics they’d get into in class…he’d pass her notes, actual notes! Sometimes they’d do homework together too. He was slowly swallowing her whole, and she didn’t mind one bit.

“Hello, love.” He says to her as her shift is ending.

“Hi, Harry.” She smiles. “How was your day?”

“Good, better now.” He sighs with a smile and she blushes.

“I just need to take care of some things in the back, and change.”

“Alright, I thought you could come over for a movie tonight. I could order us some food and we can just hang out.”

“I’d like that.” She smiles and goes into the backroom. About ten minutes later she comes out good to go. “Could we watch something with a Halloween vibe? Nothing too scary, of course.”

“Sure.” He loops his arm through hers and she giggles as they leave the bookstore. “You’re into Halloween and all that?”

“Into it? I love it! We decorated our flat yesterday with a ton of Halloween stuff. You’re not a fan?”

“No, I don’t mind it.” He shrugs. “Just think people can get carried away with their costumes sometimes.”

“I agree, some people ruin it for everyone else. I don’t like the scary aspects of it, like, you won’t catch me at a haunted house.”

“Oh, but I’d protect you, Y/N.” He smiles down at her and she blushes.

He gets her inside and he tells her to go up to his room, and to get comfortable. Louis always preferred if they hung out that Harry brought her over, so she was no stranger to their place now. He grabs some menus from the kitchen and meets her upstairs.

“What are you in the mood for?” He asks her. “Chinese, Italian…?” He furrows his brows at the menus as he looks over his options.

“You pick, I’m fine with whatever.” She says.

“Chinese then, do you like dumplings and stuff like that?”

“Yup.”

“Brilliant.” He sits down next to her and grabs his laptop so he can order everything online. He sets it on his desk, and turns his TV on. He sits up against his headboard and so does she. “Here.” He hands her the remote. “You can pick the movie, babe.”

Her heart fluttered every time he called her that. It was just like any other term of endearment, but she still really liked it.

“Hmm…” She flips on Netflix to look over her options. “Oh! What about Teen Wolf, the old one with Michael J. Fox?”

“Uh, that’s a little unrealistic, don’t you think?”

“Well…duh, it’s about a werewolf.” She scoffs. “The whole thing is unrealistic.”

“I just mean, um, oh, look…Hocus Pocus, now that’s a classic.”

“You’re absolutely right. Way better choice.” She hits play and he sighs with relief. “Besides, the show Teen Wolf is way better. I mean, the first two to three seasons were good, and then it just got really bad, but it was still fun.”

“Are you, like, a wolf fanatic or something?”

“No.” She laughs. “It was on MTV when I was younger and it was fun to watch.” She shrugs and looks up at him. “Don’t worry, I think you’re much cuter than the actors on the show.”

“You do, huh?” He puts an arm around her and she cozies up to him. “Good to know.”

She lets her arm fall on his waist as she gets comfortable, and her leg even goes over one of his. It was a proper Netflix & Chill and neither of them had any problem with it. About thirty minutes into the movie, there’s a knock on the door downstairs.

“That’s our food, I’ll be right back.” He pauses the movie and gets up.

“Do you wanna eat downstairs? I’d feel bad about making a mess up here.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s fine.” He chuckles and goes downstairs. He returns shortly with the food. “Alright, I got dumplings, sushi, egg rolls, rice, noodles, and veggies.”

“It smells so good.” She licks her lips and opens the sushi first, popping a piece into her mouth. “Which one’s your favorite?”

“The dumplings.” He mutters as he bites into one.

Eating a dumpling satisfied the more primal side of Harry. It was plump and juicy, like a small animal that he might be ravenous for on a full moon while he’s shifted.

“I like them a lot too.” She takes one and bites into it. She grabs a napkin to dab the corners of her mouth. “Mm, so good.”

“Want some water?”

“Please.”

He grabs her a bottle from the case he keeps in his closet. They eat a bit more while watching the movie, and then Harry puts everything away downstairs so they can go back to cuddling. He pops a piece of gum into his mouth, and offers her some as well.

“We’re gonna have a Halloween party, by the way.” She says to him.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, would you maybe wanna come? Niall and Louis can come too.”

“We usually lay low on Halloween…lot of freaks come out that night, you know?”

“Please?” She pouts. “I have a really cute costume planned, and I want you to see it.”

“What is it?” He blushes.

“I can’t give it away, then you won’t be surprised.” She boops his nose and he smiles.

“I’ll…I’ll ask them to see if they wanna go.”

“Great.” In a bold move she kisses his cheek. His eyes widen as he looks at her.

“C’mere.” He says, and pulls her onto his lap. She straddles him and wraps her arms around his neck. “I like you a lot, you know that, right?” He tucks some hair behind her ear.

“I think so.” She says shyly. “I like you a lot too, Harry.”

“Can I kiss you?”

She nods yes, and he cups her cheek with one of his hands while the other grips her hip. He presses his lips to hers, and her eyes flutter closed. Her hands slide into his hair and he tugs her closer. His fingers dig into the skin between her shirt and pants. Their lips move along each other’s. Her lips were so incredibly soft, he just want to-

“Mmph!” She grunts as he bites down on her bottom lip and sucks on it.

Harry had learned a lot of restraint over the years, so he didn’t need to worry about his teeth growing sharper or his nails growing longer, or even shifting slightly. He just needed to keep his breathing steady. She seems to like what he’s doing because she doesn’t tell him to stop. In fact, she rolls her hips down on his and tugs at his hair harder. She opens her mouth slightly, and he takes it as a signal that he can lick into her. His tongue swirls around hers, and she moans again. Her breasts press against his chest, and she continues to grind against him.

She tugs his head back to get some air and she moves to kiss on his neck. She mouths and licks over the area just under his earlobe, and his hands squeeze at her hips.

“Y/N.” He breathes. “It’s getting late, do you wanna spend the night?” She pauses her actions and nods yes against his neck, causing him to chuckle.

“What, um…” She moves to look at him. “What do you feel like doing? Do you wanna stop?”

“Do you?”

“N-no, but I feel like we should. I really do like you, and I don’t wanna mess anything up by moving too fast.”

“I feel the same way.” He smiles. “Want something of mine to wear to sleep?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. He pecks her lips again before she moves off him.

Harry grabs her a tee shirt and a pair of boxers. He also gets her a spare tooth brush, and off to the bathroom she goes. She gasps when she sees Louis waiting in the hallway when she’s done.

“Spending the night, pet?” He asks her.

“Y-yeah, is that alright?”

“Course it is.” He smiles. “You know you’re welcome here.”

“Thanks, well, goodnight.” She smiles and makes her way back to Harry’s room.

“I knew you’d look cute in my clothes, but wow.” He blushes.

“Oh.” She blushes too. “Thanks.” She looks him up and down. “You’re gonna wear sweats to bed?”

“I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“Don’t be silly, you’ll sweat buckets if you stay like that. Sleep how you normally do.” She says as she slips into his bed.

“Can’t do that…”

“Why not?”

“Because I usually sleep naked.”

“M-maybe just your boxers?”

“You’d be okay with that?” She nods yes at him. “I’m just gonna go use the loo. I’ll be back.” Harry washes up quickly, and then turns the light off when he comes back in. He takes his clothes off, staying in his boxers, and then he gets into bed with Y/N. “Did you let the girls know you’re staying here?”

“Mhm.”

They both slide down and face each other. He slots a leg between hers and rubs at her side and back. Harry really liked being petted on, so he figured other people did too. He never got any complaints, anyways. She sighs slightly and moves closer to him. She nuzzles her face into his chest and she realizes it’s bare. It was pitch black in the room, so she couldn’t see any of his tattoos. He pets on her until she falls asleep. His eyes flutter closed, and he falls asleep holding her.

The next morning Y/N wakes up with an immense amount of pressure on her bladder. She was laying on her back, she never slept like that, and she couldn’t physically see Harry. She hears snoring from under the covers, so she pulls the blankets back to see Harry’s head in her lap, and his body wrapped around the rest of hers. It was a little bizarre, but not the weirdest way she had ever woken up with someone. She doesn’t want to startle him so she runs her fingers through his hair and scratches at his head. His hold on her thigh tightens and his eyes flutter open. He looks up at her dreamily, like a puppy, and then he flinches when he realizes his head is in her crotch.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry.” He says as he sits up and knuckles at his eyes. “I have zero idea how I ended up like that.” A lie, but he couldn’t very well tell her the truth.

“It’s okay! I just really need to pee.” She giggles and climbs over him to get up. “Be back in a second.”

Harry takes a deep, and gets dressed in some joggers and a sweatshirt as he waits for her. She comes back in, feeling much fresher, and smiles at him. Harry uses the bathroom next and walks in on her just getting her clothes back on.

“Do you mind if I keep the boxers?” She says as she zips up her jeans. “Men’s underwear is so much more comfortable.”

“Consider them yours.” He smiles and wraps his arms around her waist. She presses her hands to his chest. “I’m glad you stayed over. Can I make you breakfast?”

“I’d like that, but I have to get back to my place so I can shower before my shift in a couple of hours.” She bites her bottom lip. “But another time for sure.”

Harry nods, and walks her down the stairs to the front door. She kisses him goodbye, and he watches her walk away. He desperately wanted to go to her Halloween party, but he knew it would be tough convincing Louis.

“Hey.” Harry stands in Louis’ bedroom doorway.

“How was your night?”

“Good, Y/N just left.” Louis nods at that. “She invited us all to a party at the end of the month.” He mumbles.

“Oh, yeah? That was nice of her. When exactly?”

“Halloween.”

“Very funny.”

“C’mon, Lou, what better night of the year to blend in.”

“The hunters could be feeling the same exact way, Harry!”

“It’s not like we’d be party hopping.” Harry whines. “We could go, make an appearance, and then leave.”

“I think it’s a great idea.” Niall chimes in as he heard the conversation. “We could wear costumes that have masks or face coverings so we’re not as obvious.”

“What do you propose?” Louis asks. “The three fucking musketeers? The Justice League?”

“Well, we’d all look fabulous in spandex, so I’d be cool with that.” Harry smirks.

“No.” Louis shakes his head. “I’ll need to be able to see your faces. I’ll go as David Beckham.”

“Wait, you’re serious….we can go?!” Harry asks excitedly.

“We could use some fun.” Louis sighs. “And I know you really like this girl, and we’ve all started to trust her. She’s no threat. We can go for an hour, at the beginning of the night, and then we’re out of there.”

“Thank you!” Harry throws his arms around his friend. “I can’t wait to tell her.”

“Is she your girlfriend now?” Niall asks.

“I don’t know what we are. We only made out last night, I didn’t wanna take it too far in case I lost control. I didn’t think I would, but I could tell I was really fighting to keep my teeth from shifting. She smells so fucking good, I woke up with my head in her lap.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I feel really comfortable around her, you know?”

“Could you not be so stereotypical?” Louis smirks.

“Yeah, it’s literally puppy love.” Niall chuckles.

“Don’t make fun of me.” Harry pouts. “She doesn’t know that I know, but she sprinkles a little cinnamon into my coffee, literally giving me a treat. I’ll gladly be her puppy.”

Louis dresses as David Beckham, Niall dresses as a basketball player, and Harry dresses as Zorro, but without the mask, Louis wouldn’t let him. They all walk in, and plenty of people are there already. Harry scans the room and his jaw drops. Y/N was standing in front of a tapestry on the wall taking pictures with her roommates. The three of them were dressed like bunnies, classic 1960’s playboy bunnies. His mouth waters, she looked good enough to eat.

“How nice of her to dress as your favorite snack.” Louis nudges him. “Have fun.”

Y/N giggles as she looks at that photos. She turns in Harry’s direction and beams at him. They make their way to each other through the crowd of people.

“You made it!” She throws her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek, leaving a nice, red lipstick mark behind. “You look so hot like this.” She looks him up and down. “Doesn’t Zorro wear a mask?”

“Lou wanted to be able to find me easily.” He smiles nervously. “And…if anyone looks hot it’s you, I…this is the last thing I’d expect you to be wearing.”

“They were on sale at the costume store.” She blushes. “And the accessories were easy enough to find. We figured it would be fine to dress a little skimpier since we’re not leaving here.”

He circles around her, like he was checking out his prey, and he nearly loses it at the sight of the cotton tail at the base of her spine, never mind how perfect her ass looks with the nylons she’s wearing. He thinks of the thong she must be wearing.

“You’re not even revealing that much.” He clears his throat. “Still plenty left to the imagination.”

“Mm, well…” She tugs at the open collar of his shirt. “Hopefully not for long.” She says against his lips and then backs away. She smirks and walks away from him as his mouth falls open. He was a little shocked she’d deprive him of a kiss.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He walks after her.

“I need to mingle with all my guests, and be a good hostess, don’t I?” She raises an eyebrow at him. “Go on and have something to drink, Zorro.” She winks at him.

“Sure thing, Bunny Rabbit.”

She giggles and continues to walk away from him. Harry didn’t want to seem clingy, so he lets her go about the party, being a good little hostess with her roommates. He, Niall, and Louis all sip on the same drink to keep up appearances. Alcohol and drugs had zero effect on them, which at times was extremely annoying, but for the most part it was fine. They needed to keep their wits about them anyways. Y/N eventually finds her way to Harry, keeping her arm snaked around his waist. She felt special to have him as her guest. He was so fucking handsome, and she knew there were people looking at him, wishing they were the ones standing with him. His arm was draped around her shoulders, his thumb rubbing at her bare shoulder. She almost wanted to pull him upstairs, but she wasn’t the type to do that at a party. No, it could wait until everyone left, when they’d have a little more privacy.

“Hey.” She says to him, and he looks down at her. “I need to go use the ladies room, could you hold onto my drink?”

“Course, love.” He kisses her temple and off she goes with her heart fluttering.

After she’s done in the bathroom, which takes ten fucking minutes because the costume was impossible to get on and off, she makes her way through the party. She gets the distinctive whiff of weed coming from outside. She groans, and steps out and sees a group of people passing a blunt around.

“Guys, not to be a party pooper, but you can’t do that here…”

The group makes an annoyed noise, but they listen to her. Suddenly, she’s alone outside, and she realizes how fucking cold it was. She shivers, and moves to go back inside…

“Talia, have you seen Y/N?” Harry asks her. “She went to the bathroom twenty minutes ago, but she’s not in there now.”

“How do you know?” Talia slurs.

“Because Niall just fucked some girl in the bathroom, that’s how I know.” Harry says bluntly.

“Oh, then I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Maybe she went up to her room. You can go check if you want, she’s been dying to get you alone in there all night.”

“She has?” He perks up.

“Duh.” She rolls her eyes. “She’s crazy about you, mate.” She walks away from him.

Concern washes over his face because he knows she’s not in the building. He’d be able to feel her heart, he’d be able to smell her, but he can’t. He finds a freshly fucked Niall, and Louis and tugs them both into a corner.

“I think something’s happened to Y/N.”

“What do you mean?” Louis says.

“She’s not here anymore. She wouldn’t have just left without telling me, she had me hold her drink…she clearly thought she was coming right back.”

“I can feel how worried you are.” Niall sighs. “Do you think she might have gone outside for any reason?”

“No idea, but we could check it out.” Harry says, and they all make their way through the flat, and out the back door. All of their eyes glow red so they can see outside better. Harry takes a whiff, and his head snaps to the left. “Over there, there’s something…an object…” He runs towards it and the boys follow. It was one of he her heels. “Oh, no.” He picks it up and nearly wants to cry.

“Don’t worry, Harry, we’ll find her.” Louis takes the shoe and sniffs it to get her scent, as does Niall. “Hunters may have taken her to get to you, so we need to be smart about this. No fucking around, and no full shifting. Claws and fangs at best.”

“I don’t understand hunters.” Niall says. “If they just got to know us they’d see we’re not dangerous in the slightest.”

“We used to be.” Harry says. “But you can brush up on your history later, right now there’s a girl in the woods dressed like a bunny that we need to go rescue. Poor thing’s probably freezing.”

There Y/N was, cold, annoyed, and tied to a tree. She had tried to scream, but someone put their hand over her mouth. They dragged her out into the woods, and she lost one of her shoes. They were awfully expensive too. There were a few people with guns standing near her, and two others pacing around. She had zero idea what they wanted with her. She had cried out of fear, but she was quiet now.

“C-could I at least have a sweater or a blanket? F-fucking freezing out here.” She stutters through her sentence. “Not exactly dr-dressed for this sort of thing.”

“Be quiet, or we’ll gag you.” A man with a gruff voice says to her.

“G-gonna have to buy me d-dinner first if you wanna do that.” She musters up the energy to smirk, and a woman comes over to her with duct tape. She slaps it over her mouth.

“There.” The woman says. “Keep warm with that.”

Y/N tries wiggling her toes and fingers to keep her circulation going. It was only a matter of time until hypothermia would kick in, and she knew that.

“Where are they, hm? Bumbling idiots.” A man says to the woman.

“Maybe Harry doesn’t care about the bitch as much as we thought.” The woman shrugs.

Harry growls lowly when he hears that. He, Louis, and Niall had found the spot the hunters were keeping Y/N easily.

“How many total?” Harry asks.

“Ten.” Louis says. “Keep your emotions at bay. They may be willing to kill, but we can’t do that. Niall and I will knock out as many as we can, and then call for backup. You focus on getting Y/N out of there. Bring her back to our place, and give her something to fall asleep. Then in the morning tell her she was drunk and had a bad dream.”

Harry nods. All of their teeth and claws were out, but nothing more. He knew he had to look scary like this, but he couldn’t worry about it right now. The girl who he was seriously falling for was tied to a fucking tree. Her shoe fell off, but her bunny ears had managed to stay on, although they were a little dented now. The three take a deep breath, and jump up nimbly into the trees. Harry slips down the tree she’s tied to, and cuts through the ropes easily with his claws.

She looks down at herself as she feels the ropes loosen, but she stays put not wanting to bring attention to herself. Y/N sees two figures moves swiftly, knocking the various people around her over. They evade the bullets being shot at them (the guns have silencers). She has no idea what’s happening. The men around her suddenly fall, and she gasps. A figure with a broad back picks them up effortlessly and tosses them into a pile of other people. He turns to look at Y/N and her eyes widen.

“I’ll explain everything later, I promise.” His voice was deeper, and she felt sedated. “Need to get you out of here, trust me?” She nods quickly, and he wastes no time picking her up bridal style, he claws digging into the meat of her thigh, and he jumps up in the trees.

She felt like she was on a roller coaster ride as she clings to him. She didn’t know a person could move so fast, but clearly Harry wasn’t an ordinary person. He was a thing she had only seen on TV or read myths about. Once he gets her inside his flat, he retracts his fangs and claws, and his eyes turn green once more. He carries her up to his bathroom and sets her down on the sink counter.

“This is probably gonna hurt.” He says as he starts to tug on the tape covering her mouth. She nods and closes her eyes. She squeaks out a noise as he rips it off. “Took it like a champ, babe.” He rubs his hands up and down her arms and shoulders.

“Been getting my lip waxed for years, that was nothing.” She breathes.

He looks her up and down. Her nylons were all ripped up, and she had dirt all over her. Did they fucking drag her? He growls angrily just thinking about it.

“I found your other shoe.” He takes it out of his pocket, and she nearly melts. “Did they hurt you?”

“They dragged me through the woods, and slammed me against the tree when they tied me up.” She pouts. “Almost knocked the wind out of me, but I’m okay.”

“I can make you feel better.” He cups her cheek. “But I need to draw you a bath in order to do it. You’re freezing anyways, so it’s a good idea all around.” He moves to turn the water on, and he grabs some bottles from the linen closet.

“Harry…”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t look at her as he sprinkles whatever’s in the bottles into the warm water.

“Who were they? What did they want with you?”

“They either wanted to kill me, or take me as a prisoner.” He turns to look at her. He takes his jacket and shirt off, and her eyes widen. “M’not getting in with you, I just need to mix it all together once the tub’s full, and I don’t wanna get my clothes soaked.” He defends himself.

“No, I just…you have so many tattoos. I didn’t notice it the other night when we slept.”

“It’s really not a lot, Lou has way more.” He bends down to take her other heel off, and he puts the shoes together neatly on the floor. He stands back up and grabs at the bunny ears. “You’ll wear these again for me sometime, yeah? Be a shame if you didn’t.” She nods at him and he sets them down on the counter. “Good, bunnies are my favorite.”

“Your favorite what?”

“Snack.” He says as he grips her hips, helping her hop off the counter.

“Right.” She swallows, and her eyes rim with tears.

“What’s wrong?” He asks as he turns the water off in the tub and starts mixing everything.

“Are…are you going to kill me?”

“Now, why would I offer to make you feel better and then turn around and kill you?”

“I don’t know! Nothing’s exactly clear, Harry!”

“Okay, be cool, yeah?” He stands up straight. “There’s no reason to freak out.”

“No reason to freak out?! I was just taken from my own home, tied to a fucking tree, and then you come and you have these big teeth and these talons, and…shit, I need to text my roommates and let them know I’m okay. Or, maybe that I’m not okay…”

“They’re claws, not talons. I’m not a bloody chicken.”

“What are you then, hm?” She puts her hands on her hips.

“I’m a person, same as you.”

“My eyes don’t glow red, Harry.”

“They could, maybe you’re just not trying hard enough.” She makes an exasperated noise at him, and motions that she’s going to leave. “Okay, okay…I…I’m a werewolf. I was born this way, I wasn’t turned, but a lot of us these days are. The hunters want me because I’m a healer, and I come from a family of healers. They must have caught wind that I go to school here, and they must have noticed that we’ve been hanging out so…to get to me they took you. I feel absolutely terrible about it because the last thing I would ever want to do is put you in any danger. It’s why I barely spoke to you last year. I didn’t want you getting dragged into all this, and here you are now…literally being dragged into it.” He huffs.

“Great, so now I can add bestiality to the list of things that are wrong with me.” She shakes her head, more so saying it to herself. She looks at him. “I’m in a lot of pain, so I’m going to disregard a lot of what you just said, I’m going to not ask any more questions, and I’m going to chalk this up to being an extremely elaborate Halloween prank or something.”

“It’s not a prank, Y/N. I know it’s a lot to take in, I’m so sorry.” He shakes his head. “And being with a werewolf doesn’t make you into bestiality.” He chuckles softly. “You saw me out there, I didn’t grow any extra hair, my ears didn’t get all long and pointy, and I’m pretty sure you’re the only one with a tail on tonight. It’s not like what you think, we blend in really easily. I can shift so I can look like what you may have seen, but it’s rather uncomfortable and unnecessary.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Are you scared?”

“Yes.”

“Of me?”

“No.” He sighs with relief at that. “I’m scared that they’re going to take me again.”

“They won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because…we have ways of protecting ourselves and others. I have something I can give you to keep you safe.”

“Like what?”

“I…I have to bite off one of my claws, and put it on chain for you to wear.” She grimaces at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll do it in the morning, and it’ll grow back. I can even paint it a nice color, I have some nail polish.”

“Wonderful.”

“C’mon, the bath is gonna get cold. I’ll step out so you can get in, and-“

“I want you to stay in here with me.”

“I’ll come back, I just wanna give you some privacy.”

“I need you to unzip the back of this stupid thing for me first.”

She turns around and sighs heavily. She looks at herself in the mirror, and is shocked at how fucked up she looks. Her mascara had run down her face, and her bunny nose and whiskers that she painted on had smeared.

“Do…do you have any face-cloths?” She mumbles.

“Yeah, babe.”

He steps over to the linen closet after unzipping her. He hands her a blue cloth and steps out of the bathroom. He hears the front door open and close, and races downstairs to Louis and Niall.

“Cleaned up and taken care of.” Niall says. “I need a shower.”

“Y/N’s getting into the tub. I ran her a bubble bath so I could heal her.”

“I told you to put her to sleep.” Louis grits his teeth. “I really don’t like it when you don’t listen, Harry.”

“M’sorry, she…she just looked so scared, and I couldn’t lie to her. We can talk to her in morning, can’t we? It’s not like she’s the first regular person to get involved with a werewolf.”

“True, but you should really have ran this by your mum first. She’s not gonna be happy.” Louis says.

“I’ll deal with her in the morning too. Let me go tend to my bunny, yeah?”

He goes back upstairs, and taps on the door before entering. She was in the water, covered by the bubbles. She had pulled her hair up into a bun on the top of her head. He sits down on the toilet and faces her.

“I need to stick my hand in.”

“Excuse me?” Her eyebrows raise at him.

“To make what I put in work, I have to stick my hand in the water.”

“Alright.”

He leans forward, and dips his hand into the warm water. His eyes glow red, and she feels every cut and bruise on her body disappear. She feels better than she had before the night even started.

“Holy shit.” She breathes as he takes his hand out of the water.

“How’s the temperature, still warm enough?”

“Yeah…it’s…it’s perfect.” He nods at her and she sighs heavily. “So, you could literally rip me to shreds, and you’re choosing not to?”

“Why is it your first instinct that I’m going to kill you? It’s what the hunters think too, and it’s just not the case, love. Especially with my breed. Healers don’t like hurting others, even in defense. We’re too empathetic. I wanna keep you safe more than anything.”

“Are there others? Obviously Niall and Louis, but, like, in our classes?”

“Not that I know of. The three of us stick together because we’re all in the same large pack. Our three families came together for safety. Other packs just tend to leave others alone, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” She snaps.

“I never meant to put you in danger, Y/N.”

“Do you have a towel for me, I’d like to get out now.”

He sighs and gets up. He grabs her a fresh towel, and hands it to her. He turns around so she can stand and wrap it around herself. She steps out of the tub and looks up at him. She groans and presses her forehead into his chest.

“I can feel how conflicted you are.” He says as he wraps his arms around her.

“Must be nice to just sense how someone’s feeling.” She scoffs as she nuzzles into him. A thought occurs to her and she looks up at him. “Is that why you curled up with me the way you did that night? Like…are you more dog than person when you’re sleeping?”

“Wolf, I’m not a fucking dog. And…I don’t really know. Sometimes we can do that when we feel really safe with someone.”

“You feel safe with me?” Her eyes widen.

“Well…yeah. And you always smell so good.” He mutters as his hands splay on her back, pulling her closer to him.

“I…I think you smell good too.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, but I can never quite put my finger on what cologne you’re wearing.”

“I don’t wear cologne.”

“What?!”

“It would fuck with my natural scent too much. I have to wear a scentless deodorant even.”

“So…you just naturally smell good?”

“I…” He thinks for a moment. He had read about this before, and from what Louis and Niall said about not being able to smell anything particularly special about her, some things were starting to connect. “Let’s go to my room, Niall said he needed to shower.”

She nods, and he grabs all of her clothes as they make their way down the hall. She sits down on his bed, after he sets her things down on his desk. Her eyes scan over the broadness of his back, and how his muscles flex while he digs through his dresser. She clamps her legs together after shaking her hair out of its bun. He stands up straight after getting a whiff of her. She was turned on? He turns to look at her.

“What?”

“Nothing, here, you can wear these.” He tosses her some boxers and a shirt.

“What if I wanna be like you and sleep naked?”

“Y/N, it’s late and-“

“That bath gave me a second wind.”

Harry wasn’t doing anything in particular, but healers had a way of bringing out confidence and truths out in others. Especially when they seemed to be this connected. They could be soulmates for all he knows, but he doesn’t want to say that and scare her off.

She stands up and walks towards him, reaching around for her bunny ears, and putting them on. She smirks at as he swallows.

“You’re really okay with all of this?” He puts his hands on her shoulders.

“I know I wanna be with you. Maybe I shouldn’t want that, but I do. I…I don’t think I could stay away from you even if I wanted to.”

“I feel the same way.”

“Is…is someone going to tell us we can’t see each other anymore?”

“No.” He scoffs. “I’m like a prince, no one tells me who I can and can’t see.”

“Good, because…” She presses her hands to his chest and lets her towel fall. “I got all dressed up tonight because I wanted to look cute for you, and I’m really sad it all went to waste.”

“It didn’t.”

He cups her cheeks and presses his lips to hers in a searing kiss. He backs her up against his bed, and lays her down. He gets his pants off, and climbs on top of her. . She wraps her legs around his waist and he grinds his clothed dick against her. She groans and scratches her nails down his back. He kisses down her body, and looks up at her to make sure it’s alright before he dives in. She nods frantically, and he goes for it. He licks all around her folds, essentially making out with her other lips, and then he sucks on her clit. Her hands fly to his hair, and she tugs harshly. He moans against her, and her mouth falls open. Her hips buck up towards his mouth. He thought she tasted so fucking good. He was nose deep, moving his face from side to side, and she loses it. He licks her clean and pops his head up.

“Holy shit.” She breathes. He chuckles and gets his boxers off. He moves to sit up against the headboard. His tip was leaking for her. “Are…are you that big because of the wolf thing, or…?”

“Nah, that’s just good genetics, love.” He grins. “C’mere, bunny rabbit, come bounce on my cock for me.” Her mouth falls open and does as he says quickly. She swings her leg over his lap, and lines him up with her. “Wait, uh, do you, like, want me to use a condom, or-“

“M’on the pill, it’s fine.” She smiles at him and he nods. “Thanks for asking, though.” The head of his cock pushes inside her and she bites down on his shoulder as she takes him deeper, inch by inch. She lets out a puff of air once he’s all the way. She looks up at him with big eyes. “Will you help me?”

He bites down on her bottom lip as he moves her up and down on his hard dick. She was so snug around him, he was starting to lose control a little. His claws grow and he scratches at her love handles. She gasps into his mouth.

“Shit, sorry, I-“

“No, it feels good, it’s okay.” She smiles and moves around in a circle on him.

“Here I was thinking you were this innocent little thing.” He smirks and runs his nails down her back. Her head rolls backwards and he notices goosebumps raise on her skin.

“I usually am, but you’re bringing something out of me.”

“Do you feel good?” He asks as he nibbles on her neck.

“Yeah, really good.” She bounces faster up and down on him. “I’ve wanted this for a while.”

“Me too.”

He slots his mouth over hers, and licks into her. She moans into him. This is exactly what they both needed right now. He retracts his claws and before she has a second to protest he snakes a hand between them to rub her clit.

“Oh!” She gasps.

“Gonna make you come again, baby.”

She moans out as she feels it bubbling in her stomach.

“You can come inside me if you want to.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yeah, I really wanna feel it.”

He nods and rubs her faster. She cries out into his neck, and then he bursts inside her. He fills her to the brim, and it has her panting. He kisses her tenderly as she whimpers. He takes the bunny ears off her and tosses them elsewhere before carefully lifting her off of him. He lays her down, and grabs the towel she was using earlier to clean her up.

“Thank you, that’s so sweet.” She says tiredly.

“It’s the least I could, I made a fucking mess inside you.” He chuckles. “There we are, all clean.” He tosses the towel in his hamper and knees back onto the bed. She rolls over onto his chest as he turns the lights off.

“That was really great.” She nuzzles into his neck. “I’ve never felt so confident with someone before.”

“I enjoyed it too.”

“So, do you get, like, animal instincts or urges sometimes? Like, do you ever randomly chase after squirrels, what am I dealing with here?”

“No.” He laughs. “Nothing like that, although I really enjoy getting my head scratched, like, behind my ears like a dog would.” He mumbles the part about the dog. “The only time I would chase after another animal is I’ve fully transformed, and I only do that on full moons. It’s liberating to just run free like that.”

“Will you be able to tell when I’m getting my period, or if I’m on it?”

“Yeah. I have a keen sense of smell. My hearing’s enhanced too.”

“Oh my god.” She sits up a little. “So did they just hear everything?”

“Probably, unless they’re asleep already.” He shrugs. “It’s not a big deal, no need to be embarrassed, alright?”

“Are…are you gonna have to transfer schools since the hunters know you’re here?”

“We shouldn’t need to. We’ll need to see how many of them are here and what not. My mum might send reinforcements if need be. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t have fucked you if I thought I wasn’t going to be able to stay.”

“Okay.” She settles back down and he pulls the blankets over them.

“Do you mind if I sort burrow under the blankets again? I could just rest my head on your stomach.”

“Sure.” She smiles and he pecks her lips. He shifts under the blankets, and rests his head just above one of her hips. She mindlessly scratches at his head and he sighs. “Comfy?” She giggles.

“Very.”

The next morning Y/N sits comfortably in Harry’s sweats in the kitchen while Niall makes her breakfast. Harry and Louis were on a video call with Anne and Gemma.

“Does it bother you that they’re having you babysit me?” She asks him as he sets a bowl of fruit in front of her. He was making pancakes as well.

“Not at all, love. The conversation doesn’t really concern me. Harry’s talking to his family, and Louis is a pack leader so it makes sense for him to be in on the chat.” He sets a short stack in front of her.

“Thank you.”

“So…” He drums his fingers on the kitchen island. “You know everything?”

“I wouldn’t say everything, but I know the three of you are…a little special.”

“And you’re not scared?”

“The three of you rushed into the woods to save me. I’m more scared of the people who dragged me out with guns on their hips.” They hear a noise from upstairs that sounds like a puppy just got kicked. “Jesus, what was that?”

“Oh…Harry must’ve just ripped out one of his claws.” Niall gives her a soft smile and digs into his own pancakes.

“What will me wearing it do, exactly?”

“Alright, so basically, we’ve got this stuff all around the house that makes it so we can’t be tracked. I can’t really explain it, it’s outside my expertise. You may notice we all smoke a lot of cigarettes?” She nods at him. “They’re not normal cigarettes, they have the same stuff in them. It would kill you if you tried in inhale one, so we give normal people pieces of ourselves and it has the same effect. You’ll need to wear it all the time.”

“It won’t just decompose?”

“No, he has something to put on it so it won’t. It’ll sort of look like a shark tooth or something to the untrained eye.”

Harry and Louis come downstairs. Harry’s face is flushed, and he comes around behind Y/N to clasp the chain with his claw on it.

“I panted it black.” He mutters.

“Are you alright?” She asks as he sits down next to her.

“Yeah, it already grew back, see?” He holds his hand up for her.

“We’ve been given the greenlight from Anne, Harry’s mum.” Louis says as he pops a blueberry into his mouth. “But you need to be sworn to secrecy. You can’t say anything, Y/N.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? Because we’re trying to live normal lives, and-“

“She’s not going to say anything!” Harry slams his hands down on the island. “We literally just spoke with my mother about this for a bloody hour! I trust her, there’s nothing more to it than that!” His fangs peak out, and Louis growls at him.

“Do I need to remind you that male healers are extremely gullible? Or did your mother not drive that point home enough for you up there?”

“I-“

“H-Harry…” She puts her hand on his back and he looks at her. Her heart was racing.

“Oh, baby, we’re scaring you.” His fangs retract and he takes her hand in his. “I’m sorry, we’ll cool it.”

“You’ll need to stay here the rest of the weekend.” Louis says. “It may not be safe for you at your flat.”

“What about roommates.”

“I’m gonna go check on them.” Niall says. “I have a class with Georgie, shouldn’t be too weird.”

“Y/N, have you ever taken any self-defense classes or anything?” Louis asks her.

“No.” The boys all share a look. “Should I?”

“Harry will take you to the boxing gym that he goes to and show you some ways to defend yourself. You should be safe, but you can never be too careful.”

She looks at Harry and smirks at him.

“Wanna get into the ring with me?” She giggles and he giggles too. Louis sighs heavily rolls his eyes.

“I’m gonna take my breakfast to my room.” He grumbles and leaves.

Harry started going to the bookstore twice as often, setting up shop there for most of Y/N’s shift. If he could have curled up in her lap and sat on top of her in calculus he would have. Whenever he’d go over to Y/N’s place, he was always laying on top of her. Her hands were in his hair, and sometimes his foot would start shaking if she scratched him just right. He was in heaven. Her roommates, however, saw an extremely clingy and possessive guy taking up all of her time. So, they decide to talk to her about it.

“Guys, I can’t talk long. Harry’s gonna be here soon.” Y/N says as she packs her overnight bag.

“We know, it’s just…we’re a little concerned.” Talia says.

“With what?”

“He literally lives up your asshole.” Georgie says.

“He’s…clingy, but it’s not a bad thing. He gives me my space when I need it.”

“You told him to go home one night and I swear to god I heard him whimper, Y/N, whimper!” Talia says. “Also….he likes to call you ‘bunny’, and I I’m pretty sure that’s a weird BDSM nickname. Like, does he make you wear a collar or some shit, or-“

“Okay.” Y/N laughs. “You are so far off. He calls me bunny because I was dressed like one for Halloween, and sometimes I wear the ears when we have sex, but that’s the extent of it.”

It wasn’t the extent of it, but her friends didn’t need to know when they were feeling especially naughty, they would play a game of big bad wolf. Y/N had hot glues the bunny tail from her costume to a pair of lace panties, and she’d wear a lace bra, and Harry would hide somewhere in his room, and he pop out with his glowing red eyes, his fangs, and his claws. He wouldn’t scare her, it turned her on to see him so forceful. And then…once he “caught” her, she was in charge. She’d ride his dick, and tell him to be good for her while she squeezed and tugged at his curls.

“So, you’re both just a little kinky, but he’s not making you do anything you don’t wanna do, right?” Georgie says.

“Exactly.” Y/N smiles. “Look, I love you guys. I appreciate you looking out for me, I really do. I promise, if anything felt wrong with him I would tell you. We’re in a perfectly healthy relationship.” There’s a knock downstairs, and she slings her bag over her shoulder after getting her jacket on. “That’s him, I have to go.”

She goes downstairs, and opens the front door. She throws her arms around his neck and kisses him before he takes his bag for her. He laces his fingers through her hand.

“How’s my little angel baby?” He asks her and it makes her giggle.

“Good, how are you?”

“Good.” He nods. “Sorry I couldn’t be there during your shift today, I was a little busy with the boys.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. I don’t expect you to be there all the time.”

He gets her into his place, and he can’t stop grinning. She gasps when she sees a folding table set up in the living room, a nice tablecloth on it, and delicious food piled high.

“What is all this?” She says as she walks over to the table. Niall and Louis come out of the kitchen with biscuits and wine.

“You celebrate Thanksgiving right? Not like you can easily go home for that, so we cooked.” Harry says. “We looked up what all the best stuff is.”

“You…you did all of this for me?” They look at each other like they’re the only two people in the room.

“Well…yeah.” He takes her hands in his. “I…I love you, Y/N.”

“Oh, Harry, I love you too!” She throws her arms around him and slots her mouth over his. He groans into his kiss and pulls her closer.

“Ahem.” Niall says. “We’ve got hot food here…so…”

“Right.” Harry clears his throat and steps back from Y/N. “Let’s eat, yeah?”

Everyone enjoys the meal. Y/N giggles as they boys tear into the turkey and pretty much obliterate it. Usually they all had manners, but she thinks seeing the turkey ignited something primal in them. She eats until she’s the happy kind of full, and then she helps clean up. After cuddling on the couch (and making sure to go to the bathroom), Harry and Y/N go up to his room.

“I can’t believe you did all of that for me.” She pouts at him as she sits on his bed. He kneels in front of her and rubs his hands up and down on her thighs.

“Do you wanna do something for me?”

“Anything.”

He grins and pecks her lips as he stands up. He goes into his dresser and grabs a few things, keeping them behind his back.

“I’ve been sort of preparing myself all week for this, and I feel really close to you. These last couple of months have been incredible, and we love each other so…I was wondering how you’d feel about topping me.”

“Harry, I top you all the time.” She giggles.

“No, I mean, like…” He takes a strap and a bottle of lube out from behind his back.

“Oh!” She gasps. “Oh my god…you’ve been putting that up your ass all week?”

“No, I used a butt plug, and I got all cleaned out. Wanna give it a try, bunny?”

“Will you fuck me first?”

“Yes.”

She smiles and nods at him. He eagerly gets his clothes off, and he helps her get out of is.

“I just…l don’t wanna lick you down there like you’ve done to me, is that okay? I’ll use my fingers, but I don’t wanna stick my tongue up your ass.” She says as he kisses on her neck.

“Yeah, that’s fine. It’s why I got so much lube.” He smirks at her. “But you have no problem with me doing it to you, that’s cute.”

“That’s because your tongue works all kinds of magic.”

He growls at her and kisses down her body, getting between her legs. He sucks on her clit while he fingers her, knuckle deep. He throws her legs over his shoulders and relentlessly fucks her with his fingers. She was a heaving mess underneath him. She comes around him, squeezing tightly around his fingers. He takes them out of her and sucks them into his mouth. He takes her hand and sucks two of her fingers into his mouth. She groans watching him.

“Okay, I wanna fuck you now.” She says.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” She bites her bottom lip. “I’m really into it now. I wanna make you feel good.”

He kisses her quickly before grabbing the strap and the lube. He helps her into it, and she gets the lube on her fingers. He lays on his back with his legs spread for her. He had trimmed everything for her, which she greatly appreciated. Harry didn’t always manscape, not that she minded, but he clearly wanted to make things as comfortable as possible for her. She swirls her fingers around his hole and he spreads further apart for her.

“Wish I could have seen you with the butt plug in.” She grunts as she fingers him easily.

“I’ll happily wear it for you any time you want.”

“What made you wanna do this with me?” She asks as he gets the dildo attached to the strap lubed up.

“I’ve always wanted to try it, but I’ve never trusted someone enough.”

“God.” She breathes. “That is so sweet. Okay, I’m gonna start. Make sure to tell me if it hurts or something.”

“I will, go ahead.” He holds his legs back for her and she slowly pushes inside him. He tries to keep his breathing steady as she keeps going. Once she’s all the way in she waits for his signal. “You can move.” He grunts.

She slowly moves out, and then back in. She puts more lube on the dildo to add to his comfort, and then continues. Eventually she’s able to get a pace going, and she wraps her hand around his twitching, hard cock. His head falls back into his pillows and his mouth hangs open.

“Oh! Shit, do that again.” He groans. “Think you hit my g-spot.”

“Here?” She thrusts into him again and his eyes roll back into his head. She bites her bottom lip and she hits the spot over and over while pumping him silly with her hand.

“Feels so fucking good, Y/N.” He was starting to pant. “Will you sit on my face when we’re done? I wanna fuck you with my tongue.”

“Y-yeah, we can do whatever you want.” Her legs were shaking. She was extremely turned on seeing him like this.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, babe!”

She gives him one last good push while he comes into her hand. Some of his gets onto his lower tummy, but he doesn’t seem to care. She licks her palm clean of him, and he moans at the sight. She carefully pulls out of him and gets the strap off.

“Are you sure you wanna-“

“Get up here, now.” He growls at her, and his eyes flash red for a moment.

She didn’t dare fuck with him, so she crawls up his body, and he grips her hips harshly as he licks into her. She gasps, especially from the way he nibbles at her clit. She tugs at his hair as she starts riding his face. He moans against her, loving the way she tastes. She was dripping for him. No one had ever made her this wet before.

“H-Harry.” She moans and he presses her harder against him. “Fuck, oh my god, shit!” She comes on his tongue and he laps her up. He nips at her inner thigh before she gets off him. “W-wow, that was-“

“Wanna take a bath?” He asks, already getting up.

“Sure.” She shrugs. “How are you feeling?”

“Incredible, baby, you did such a good job. What about me? Was I good for you?”

“Yeah, Harry, you were really good.”

If his tail had been out he’d be wagging it. He grabs a couple of towels, and they head to the bathroom. Once the tub is full of bubbles and calming scents, they both get in. Harry sits in front of Y/N so he can rest his head on her shoulder, and so she can play with his hair.

“Are you going home for the holidays?” He asks her, turning slightly to make eye contact.

“Nope, can’t afford it. I just video chatted with my family last year, it was fine, why?”

“Well, how would you like to come to my house for Christmas? My family really wants to meet you, I want you to meet them too, of course.”

“I…I’d love to.”

“And you won’t be the only regular person there either, some of them choose not to be turned.”

“It’s nice everyone’s so cool about it.”

“Love is love.” He shrugs. “So, you really wanna come home with me?” He pouts up at her.

“Of course I do.” She squishes her nose to his. “Sounds like fun.”

“And we can travel a bit too, if you want.”

“I don’t care what we do, I’m just happy to spend time with you, Harry.”

He smiles and pecks her lips. After they get out they towel off, and go back into his room. They get cozy in his bed with his head laying on her chest.

“Do your parents know about me?” He asks as he fondles one of her breasts.

“Yes.” She giggles. “I told them I started seeing a very nice boy in my calculus class, and since my grades have been good they haven’t seemed to mind. They may come try to visit over winter break since it’s so long.”

“Would you let me meet them?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I’d really wanna make a good impression.”

“I wanna make a good impression with your family too.” She whines slightly. “Your mom is this powerful matriarch.”

“Yeah, but she’s also like any other mum.” He kisses on her breast. “God, you are always as sweet as honey. I always wanna kiss you all over.”

“Mm, I like it when you kiss me all over.” She runs a hand through his hair.

“Your body is so perfect.”

“Harry.” She giggles. “No it’s not.”

“Sure it is. I love every little thing about it.”

“Thank you.” She leans forward to kiss his forehead. He yawns out and shakes his head. “Sleepy?”

“Yeah.”

She nods and reaches to turn the light off as he goes further under the covers to rest his head on her hip. It wasn’t the most conventional way to sleep, but he always made her feel safe, and he told her it made him feel safe to sleep like that. She wasn’t entirely sure what it meant to be in a relationship with a werewolf. It wasn’t too different from being in a relationship with a regular person, they just took more precautions than most. Sometimes being with Harry was like having a pet. He needed a lot of attention, and a lot of love, but it was okay, she had plenty of it to give him.

#heal #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles y/n #werewolf!Harry #student!Harry #college au #supernatural au #werewolfrry

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firefly-in-darkness · 3 years

Text

Smooth

Pairing → Sam Wilson x Reader

Characters → Marvel

Summary → Y/N has to fight off the smile and laughter at Sam Wilson’s chat up lines throught their relationship but here are a few of their milestones.

Word Count → 3.7k

Prompt → Trope: 5 Things Plus 1 for @bonkywobble challenge - congrats on your follower milestone lovely!

SSB2021 Square Fill → Posted at the end of the story as it’s a spoiler // @star-spangled-bingo

Warnings → Fluff, sweet, tooth-rotting fluff. Cheesy chat up lines.

Betas → @daydream3r-xo // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → This is my first proper Sam Wilson fic - I have done one in the past but there was more platonic - so I hope you enjoy this story!

Firefly’s Masterlist

Sam Wilson couldn’t believe his luck, he’d signed up to the right gym, that’s for sure. There was the most beautiful woman standing at the opposite wall with a group of women. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her as she instructed the class. It was like he was hypnotised, but at least he was happy about it. Her figure was strong, and she commanded the attention of the women with ease and a stunning smile that made her eyes sparkle.

He dropped his bag onto the floor and folded his arms, as he watched on in wonder while she instructed them to loosen up with various stretches. The way her body bent and twisted into the poses was enough to make him stir under the belt.

Lost in his daydream, Sam didn’t realise the instructor had turned away from the class and walked in his direction. Lost in the sight of her plump lips and then he realised that she was looking at him. No, not just looking, her lips were moving. She was talking to him. He snapped out of his haze and apologised for not hearing.

“Are you here to assist with the self-defence class?” Her eyebrow raised at him, slight confusion on her face.

Now that she was in his personal space, Sam felt nervous. He was usually so quick and an absolute charmer with women. Well, with most people, young and old. He’d get himself out of any situation and this is when he needed his wits about him.

“Uhm- No, I think there’s something wrong with my eyes.” Sam wrinkled his nose and cringed at his train of thought.

The woman looked at him with widening fear and reached out to take his arm, “Right, okay, what do you need? What’s wrong?”

The feel of her soft skin warmed his arm in an instant, a tingle bloomed across his cheeks. Then he refocused back on his plan, even if it could potentially end badly, he wanted to charm her.

“I just can’t take them off you.” Sam grinned, but it dropped when he saw the scowl, she was giving him.

Suddenly the most beautiful sound came from the woman, the laugh that fell from her lips made him feel like a cloud, completely soft and weightless. And the sight of her head thrown back brought the grin back to his face. It worked.

“But I am more than happy to help out with the class.” Sam’s smile didn’t drop but his heart raced at the thought of his offer being rejected.

“Oh, you are definitely helping out now.” grabbed his bicep and brought him to the front of the group. “Now ladies, this is-”

“Sam” He waved and gave them a lopsided smile. “Sam Wilson.”

“Sam is going to be our test dummy for today’s session.” Y/N grabbed a [added vest and handed it to him, “now put this on and be a good boy so these Ladies can practice kneeing someone in the stomach.”

“What? I thought you were going to wrestle me or something.”

“Nuh-uh, good luck sugar.” She grinned.

“Wait, do I get to know your name?” Sam asked as he pulled on the vest.

“You can call me Boss Lady.” She replied and returned to the group of women.

Sam didn’t miss the teasing smirk she sent his way as she walked away and discussed the techniques with the women that were lining up to practise their recently learned moves on him. He was glad he had this padded vest and years of training in the army to deal with the blows about to come his way.

At least he got to meet her, see that stunning smile, and hear that beautiful laugh. It was all worth it.

Y/N stroked her fingers through her hair, a failed attempt to tame the flyaway while giving herself a once over in the pocket mirror. Nerves swirled in her stomach as the Uber approached the Italian restaurant. She wasn’t sure if this was a good idea or not, she hadn’t been on a date in over a year and she had only known this guy for a few weeks through an online dating app.

The maître-d took her coat then led her to an empty table, leaving her to browse the drinks menu. Y/N wasn’t fazed by being here before him, she was a little earlier than planned and decided to order a glass of wine.

Yet, the minutes ticked by. Y/N sipped on her drink, eyes focused on the entrance for any sign of her date but after twenty minutes and an ignored message, she decided to ask the waitress to clear the reservation and bring over the cheque for her wine. She wasn’t going to sit there any longer, waiting for someone that wasn’t going to arrive.

Feeling scorned by being stood up, she left the restaurant in a flurry but tried to remain composed and swiftly began to walk down the block to the busier part of town to hail a taxi. But before she reached the end of the sidewalk an illuminated sign across the street caught her attention. Compound. It was the place that Sam had mentioned to her earlier in the week when they were at the gym.

They’d formed a good friendship over the last few months and with a few of the other regulars at the gym. Sam had invited Y/N alongside Bucky and Nat who were personal trainers at the gym. Y/N knew them well but had declined the invite to the bar that was now opposite her. She made up an excuse, unsure as to why she lied about needing to go to her parents.

But now that she was here, she might as well put the time she had in getting ready to good use. She could just think of some other excuse and pretend like the evening hadn’t started as badly as it did. With a renewed surge of confidence, she skipped across the street and entered the bar.

It was busy but considering it was a Friday night, most people ventured further into town for a night out. She spotted Bucky and one of his best clients, Steve, at one of the pool tables in the corner. Bucky had just broken the set and Steve moved to take his shot. That’s when Y/N saw that Natasha was here too, almost hidden from view by the muscular giant that was Steve. Y/N was sure that Natasha never looked less than radiant, she never looked out of place anywhere. She was perfect.

Y/N removed her coat and hooked it up, uncertainty starting to worry her about turning up unannounced. She shook it off and walked over to the bar to grab a round of beers to take over to the table, she couldn’t go over there empty-handed.

At the sound of her name being called, she turned around to see Bucky, his signature smile on his lips and arms opened wide to welcome her in a light hug.

“Hi Buck, parents didn’t need me so thought I’d gate crash.” Y/N grinned and held up the bottles, “And I have beers.”

“Always welcome. But we need one more.” Bucky gestured over to the table, the new addition at the table was Sam.

An unexpected rush of butterflies assaulted Y/N’s stomach as she ordered the remaining beer and walked over to the bar with Bucky in tow. She greeted everyone, pausing as she approached Sam. This was the first time she’d seen him in something other than gym clothes and she appreciated the form-fitting shirt that hugged at his muscular arms.

“Somebody call the cops because it’s got to be illegal to look that good!” Sam bellowed out and held out his arms, gesturing up and down her body.

Y/N couldn’t help the giggle that erupted and wrapped her arms around his neck. She was glad that her date had stood her up because now she was able to enjoy the night with friends that wanted her to be around. Plus, who doesn’t love a confidence boost from a handsome guy?

Even though Sam used the most ridiculous lines to get Y/N’s attention, something was charming about him. It was a confidence boost for sure and when later that night, he asked her on a date, she secretly hoped that it was going to lead to something more. Even if the rational voice in her head told her not to get attached too soon.

Sam couldn’t believe his luck; they were on their fifth date and Y/N had invited him up to her apartment for coffee. Of course, he hoped it was code for sex. But honestly, he didn’t mind if that didn’t happen, he just wanted to spend more time with Y/N. She was great company, had a wicked sense of humour and was genuinely fun to be around.

Nerves bubbled in Sam’s stomach while he waited for Y/N to return with their drinks. He had sat on the cosy couch that was adorned with plush cushions and the softest blanket he’d ever felt but he needed to distract himself from the butterflies somersaulting in his stomach. A display of photographs and memorabilia adorning one of the walls caught his eye and he wandered over.

Several photographs of Y/N with different groups of people; at festivals, out for dinner, on vacation. Some of the frames had ticket stubs tucked into them, the other frames had ornaments hanging from them or polaroids stuck to the corners. It was a collage of happiness and colour. He couldn’t help the smile that formed as he thought of all the possibilities of their dating heading towards making memories like this, together.

Sam returned to the couch and Y/N placed the cups onto the coffee table. He noticed the change in her body language; she smoothed down her skirt several times, a coy smile played on her lips as she sipped on the drink. He grinned, she was on the same page as him and maybe just as nervous.

“We don’t have to do anything.” Sam’s voice gained her attention, “I’m happy to wait and see where things go if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled, she looked as if the weight of the world had been taken off her shoulders and then she plunged towards him. Their lips met in a heated kiss; Sam was shocked at the sudden change of pace, but he couldn’t resist the need to feel her body pressed up against him.

They both pulled back for air, and Sam brushed his knuckles against her cheek, “I guess that means you do want to do something.”

Y/N bit her lip and shuffled backwards, straightened up and gestured for him to follow her to the bedroom. Sam kicked off his shoes and loosened his tie in the doorway, completely enamoured by Y/N while she removed her heels.

“Sam, can you help?” Y/N looked behind and pulled her hair over her shoulder, exposing the zip that she couldn’t quite reach the top of the dress.

Slowly, the zip glided down, showing a hint of the black lace underwear. Sam looked up to the ceiling, thanking God for the beauty before him. She turned around and began unbuttoning his shirt, her fingers delicate and features focused on the clothing. But there seemed to be an air of nervousness coming from her.

Sam tipped up her chin before she could finish undressing him. He kissed her lightly, in hope to ease her, comfort her.

Their lips parted and he rested his forehead against Y/N’s, “as I said, we don’t have to do anything.”

Y/N nodded and guided him to the foot of the bed to take a seat, “I’m okay. It’s just been a while.”

Sam was in a similar situation and didn’t want his nerves to add to the concern that was already laced on her features as she stood in front of him, “We’ll do this at your pace.”

She nodded, a smile now taking over her features as she removed her arms from the sleeves of her dress and letting it pool at her feet. Sam’s mouth dropped agape as he took in her all beauty; the soft skin that curved and dipped in exquisite ways.

His hands rubbed at his thighs and looked back up to the woman who approached cautiously, a smirk on his face, “I hope you know CPR because you are taking my breath away.”

Y/N bit her bottom lip and straddled his lap, “I think I’m pretty good at mouth to mouth.”

Sam held her waist with one hand, the other exploring and massaging the exposed skin of her thighs, her hips and stomach before he reached for her neck. Their lips crashed together, and they shuffled up the mattress, exposing more of their bodies and letting passion guide them through the remainder of the night.

The episode of The Big Bang Theory played in the background, Y/N was too occupied with painting her toenails, her feet rested on the coffee table as she tugged up her sweatpants for the fifth time in the hopes to not smudge the polish.

Sam had been in the bedroom for ten minutes, putting on an outfit that he needed Y/N’s approval on. At least they’d ordered food before he went in there because otherwise, Y/N would have consumed everything in his fridge which didn’t consist of much other than a block of cheese and a bottle of vodka.

The buzz at the intercom made her jump but luckily there were no smudges to her newly pampered feet.

“I’ll get it,” Y/N shouted from the lounge of Sam’s apartment and headed to the front door to wait for the delivery person. She handed the guy some bills and a little tip before hitting the door shut with her hip.

Y/N held onto the pizza boxes and bottle of soda tightly and cautiously made her way down the hall. She waited for Sam to appear, but he still hadn’t come out of his bedroom. It was getting a bit ridiculous now.

“Sam, hurry up or your food is going to go cold.” She called and poured out the drinks.

“What do you think?” Sam asked as he entered the room, arms wide as he twirled slowly.

Sam was in a crisp white shirt, smart black trousers, and a suit jacket. The bowtie was a little crooked, but it made his sheepish grin all that more endearing to her.

“A little formal for movie night don’t you think?” She smirked and dipped an onion ring into the garlic sauce.

“Thought it might impress you.” Sam grinned at her, “Thought it would bring a bit more class to the charity gala. We need to raise money for the community centre.”

“Well, I think you look rather handsome and I’m sure someone will bid a lot of money on you.” Y/N’s eyes squinted at him, for being reminded that Sam was being auctioned off alongside Steve and Bucky for dates to the rich women of New York.

Y/N knew they weren’t exclusive, but she knew they weren’t dating other people, they just hadn’t talked about that. It had only been a couple of months since their first date and as much as Y/N was enjoying Sam’s company, she didn’t want to rush into anything or mistake how she felt and that it was unreciprocated.

“Do you know what my shirt is made of?” Sam walked towards her and knelt to be at her eye level, “Boyfriend material. Yeah, I like the sound of that.”

Sam pressed a kiss to her cheek then stood back up to return to the bedroom while Y/N remained glued to the spot, eyes wide at the way he’d casually pulled off another cheesy line and quietened her insecurities in one swift movement. She was falling, hard.

Sam pulled the van into the driveway, feeling giddy at the sight of Y/N standing on the porch with their realtor. The sun beamed down onto Y/N’s skin, an ethereal glow as she spoke animatedly with Phil, probably talking his ear off about the cost of hiring a van themselves in comparison to hiring a removals company.

It had taken them a while to get here but Sam was over the moon to be where they were now. Everything came into alignment, apart from the odd bump in the road. But after many sleepless nights, a last-minute scramble for cash and only a few days to pack up their separate lives; they were finally moving into their dream home.

They had talked about this for months, both unsure to take the leap when viewing different houses until this one came along. The minute they walked into the place, it felt like home. It was vacant and they were able to imagine what it would look like with their belongings; where the sofa would look best in the lounge or which room should be the guest bedroom or office space.

Of course, the kitchen was Sam’s favourite place, it was open planned and the best for socialising and he couldn’t wait for everyone to come round for a barbecue as the French doors opening onto a patio that stretched into a neat lawn. Perfect for hosting their friends this summer.

“Did you get lost pumpkin?” Y/N smiled at him.

“Never, I’m like a homing pigeon when it comes to you.” Sam chuckled, “are we ready now Phil?”

The middle-aged man that had a childlike spark, gave him a curt nod, and headed into the property, “Right this way.”

The papers were signed, and all that was left was to be handed over the keys so that they could begin unloading their belongings. The atmosphere was charged with excitement as Phil placed a set of keys into Y/N’s hands.

“Be careful with those.” Sam gave her a lopsided smirk and a raised brow.

“I’m not going to lose them!” She retaliated.

“Yeah, but this one,” Sam pointed to one of the keys, “is a special one.”

Y/N turned to him, brows knitted together in confusion, “what are you going on about Sam?”

Sam placed his hands on her shoulders, focusing her attention on him. His face lined with seriousness, “It’s the key to my heart.”

Y/N groaned and rolled her eyes, shaking her head at him.

“Nailed it!” Phil said as he high fived Sam, “Now, I will leave you lovely pair to get acquainted with your new home.”

Y/N placed the keys onto the kitchen island and looked out onto the garden. Sam’s arms wrapped around her waist; his chest pressed tightly to her back.

“We did it, baby girl,” Sam whispered into her ear and lightly pecked her cheek.

“That we did.” She turned her head to capture his lips with her own.

Y/N grabbed the plates, shoving them into the dishwasher while Sam waved Steve and Peggy off from the front door. It was a good date night, regardless of the lack of wine. Peggy was almost ready to burst with the twins that had wriggled constantly in her belly. They’d finally decided on a name but refused to tell Y/N or Sam.

“Anything else I need to do, baby girl?” Sam asked as he returned to the kitchen.

“All done in here.” Y/N yawned, “Think it’s time for bed.”

Sam’s face dropped for a split second, but Y/N spotted it. She wandered round to his side of the room and wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers massaging the back of his head.

“What’s up?” She asked, pressing a light kiss to his lips.

A grin formed on his lips, the warmth spreading to her in an instant, shared happiness was a beautiful feeling.

“I was just thinking that I don’t think there’s anything I’d like to change about you.” He swayed your body to the music that filtered through from the music dock in the living room.

“So why the grumpy face?” Y/N pouted and squeezed his cheeks together; lips mushed into a dramatic grimace.

“Because I realised there was something I’d like to change,” Sam mumbled through your hold on his face.

Y/N pulled away instantly, her hands dropping to her side as anger began to bubble under her skin, “excuse me?”

Sam tugged her by the waist, keeping her close, “Let me finish.”

She relaxed the tension in her body and placed her hands back on his chest, the annoyance still simmering but less noticeable. Sam’s fingers traced soft lines up and down her back until she gave in and placed her head on his shoulder.

“Now, where was I? Ah yes, the one thing I’d change about you.” He spluttered as Y/N hit him on the arm, lightly but still effective. “The only thing would be your last name.”

Y/N cringed at the chat-up line and pulled away, breaking their hold in favour of turning out the lights in the kitchen before re-joining him but he was nowhere to be seen when she turned around. The sudden silence had her on edge as she headed to the lounge to find Sam kneeling in front of her, his hand raised with a velvet box.

She gasped and clamped her hand over her mouth, he was being serious. He wasn’t using some cheesy chat-up line, well he was, but he was doing this! Y/N squealed internally, the sudden realisation that Sam was talking had her snapping up to his eyes.

The gorgeous brown brimming with tears as he told her how much he loved her, “I want you in my life always baby girl, will you be my wife?”

“Yes!” she responded, throwing her arms around his neck as he spun her around the room.

Y/N pressed kiss after kiss to every place she could, their salty tears mixing in with their passion. Sam pulled back with a chuckle, he took her left hand and placed the sparkling ring onto her finger.

He might have used his cheesy pick-up lines to get to this point, but Y/N loved every single one. Especially this one.

The End.

SSB2021 Square Fill → Proposal // @star-spangled-bingo

Everything Tag List: @kitkatd7 / @fandomfic-galore / @writerwrites / @thefridgeismybestie / @wedonttalkaboutitenough / @courtneychicken

Marvel Tag List: @natasha-danvers / @little-baby-vixen / @stuckonjbbarnes / @starlightcrystalline / @nekoannie-chan / @hailhydra920 / @vollzeitliebe / @fitzsimmons-is-forever / @ladyacrasia / @emmabarnes

#Sam Wilson x Reader #bonkyshalfwayto1k #SSB2021 #Sam Wilson #Sam Wilson Fic #Star Spangled Bingo #Sam Wilson Fluff #Sam Wilson Fanfiction

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little-diable · 4 years

Text

Script - Chris Evans (smut)

Request by anon: I really like your writing! I’d love a Chris Evans or Steve Rogers story using prompts 10 & 24. Thanks!!!

Enjoy my loves. xxx

10 “I can’t keep on acting like we’re just friends”

24 “Let them hear you scream my name”

“(Y/n),” Chris whined into the phone, he was laying on the sofa in his trailer, eyes focused on his script, cursing the words that somehow didn’t want to stick with him.

“What?” his friends annoyed undertone made him chuckle. “I need your help,” Chris chewed on his pen, he felt desperate, didn't want to embarrass himself on set, didn’t want people to make fun of him, for not knowing his lines.

“Of course you do,” she muttered under her breath. “I’ll be there in twenty,” she hung up the phone.

Her jaw was clenched, hard eyes focused on the road, hands wrapped around the steering wheel, a storm was raging inside her mind, of course Chris would only call her, if he needed help. She hated herself for getting that excited as she read the name of his caller-ID, (y/n) couldn’t even think back to a time, where she hadn’t felt the tingles, the butterflies, every time she’d be near him, every time she’d hear his voice.

“Evans,” she pounded her fist against the door of his trailer, sunglasses kept on hiding her tired eyes, she was holding two cups of coffee in the other hand, impatiently tapping her foot.

“There she is, finally, what took you so long?” he chuckled as she stepped into the trailer, pushing his coffee into his hand, “yeah, you’re welcome.”

(Y/n) plopped down on the sofa, hands automatically grasping the script, she couldn’t let herself admire him in that gorgeous blue shirt, didn’t allow herself to be lured into any smalltalk, couldn’t and wouldn’t stay around him for too long.

“Come on, old man, let’s get this over and done with,” she mumbled, falling back into their normal routine. Ever since they had crossed paths she had been his study partner, she’d run his lines with him, endless nights of cursing the cowriters for coming up with those words.

“Don’t know what I’d do without you,” Chris had his legs sprawled out on her lap, arms crossed behind his back, bright eyes hooked on her frame. “You definitely wouldn’t be an actor, no more,” her heart skipped a few beats at the sound of his laughter.

“Will you watch?” Chris grasped her hand, fumbling around with her fingers, he’d always feel much calmer every time she’d be around the set, watching him do his scenes, teasing him all about his acting.

But (y/n) couldn’t stay, at least not when he’d shoot a love scene, where he’d kiss somebody that wasn’t her, arms slung around the actresses waist, lips moving in synch with hers. Of course (y/n) knew, that it was “just acting”, but that was enough to make her feel sick to her stomach, insides churning as she’d wish for nothing more than to be the one he’d wrap his arms around.

“No, no I won’t,” (y/n) rose from the sofa, pushing his legs off her lap, she walked up to her bag, ready to leave the trailer, to go back home and eat a bunch of comfort foods. “What? Why? You always watch my scenes,” Chris grasped her wrist, he turned her towards him, frowning as his eyes fell upon her distressed expression.

“Scenes where you don’t kiss someone,” (y/n) mumbled before she could stop herself from oversharing her thoughts, both froze on the spot, her eyes slowly wandered up his face, hooked on his bright ones. She cleared her throat and stepped away from Chris.

“Do I look that awful while kissing somebody?” Chris tried to come up with any explanation.

“No, Chris,” (y/n) sighed. “What is it, (y/n)?” He stepped closer, set on finding out what was going on inside his friends head.

“I can’t watch you kiss somebody else, while I wish that the person you kiss would be me,” (y/n) whimpered, her eyebrows were furrowed together. “I can’t keep on acting like we’re just friends,” she shot him one last glance before she turned her back on him and walked out of the trainer, she had to get away, not giving him any chance to respond to her confession.

Tears were blurring her vision, (y/n) placed her forehead against her steering wheel, god, why did she have to tell him? He’ll probably never talk to her ever again, how embarrassing, why why why? (Y/n) deeply exhaled as she left the studio, driving towards her apartment, ready to bury herself between a few blankets, stuffing her face with ice cream, cursing Chris Evans for simply being himself.

(Y/n) had been laying there, back pressed against her sofa, blankets covering her frame, for hours, phone on silent, not noticing the messages he had sent her, the countless times he had tried to call her. A knock ripped her out of her thoughts, slowly (y/n) walked towards her door.

“Chris?” He had his arms crossed in front of his chest, an angry expression graced his features. He strode past her, right into her living room.

“How could you?” His deep voice made her shudder. “I’m sorry,” (y/n) whispered, she felt like a small child, ready to be scolded by her dad for doing something so stupid.

“How could you say all those words and just leave? Without giving me any chance to respond? I fucked up my scene, because I couldn’t stop thinking about you and those perfect lips I want to kiss,” Chris placed his hands on her cheeks, she gawked up at him, no words left her mouth, too confused by his words. “Fuck, (y/n), I’ve been in love with you from the first day I met you,” he whispered, hands wandering down to her middle.

Chris dipped his head down and finally pressed his lips against hers, she responded to his touch right away, arms slung around his neck, blood was rushing in her ears, tingles shot up her spine, overtaking her body. He picked her up, made her wrap her legs around his waist, not breaking their kiss once.

“Bedroom,” she mumbled against his lips.

Chris carried her towards her bed, hovering above her as he placed her down on the mattress. “I love you,” Chris whispered over and over again, glad to finally be able to say those words out loud. “I love you too,” she chuckled, fingers wandering underneath his shirt, tracing his abs, obsessed with the way his skin felt underneath her fingers. He helped her take off the light fabric, her eyes wandered up and down his chest, admiring his skin, hands tracing loose shapes and patterns.

“Doll,” Chris muttered, snapping her out of her trance, he attached his lips to hers once again, hands tugging on her sweatpants, taking them down her legs. “God, (y/n),” his mind was racing, drunk on the way she tasted, the way she felt against his skin, heart skipping a few beats every now and then. He impatiently pulled off her shirt, groaning as his eyes fell on her bare chest, no bra to hide her skin from his hungry eyes.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Chris sucked on her skin, hands cupping her boobs.

A shuddered breath fell from (y/n)s lips, her fingers ran up his back, nails already leaving a few red marks behind, something he’d definitely tease her about later on. Chris kissed his way down her upper body, settling between her thighs, he nuzzled his nose against her clothed core, his name escaped her lips, back arched for him, moaning as he ripped her panties apart, tongue sliding through her folds.

Chris devoured her, worshipped her in every way possible, he rubbed her clit with his thumb, teasing her skin, fingers dipping into her heat, exploring her wetness for the first time ever. He felt his length throb against his trousers, rock hard by now, aching to finally be buried inside of her, like he had dreamt about for ages.

“Chris,” she called out his name, his eyes found hers, telling him everything he needed to know.

“Condom?” He breathed out, eyes looking around her room. “Top drawer,” (y/n) whispered, watching him pull the material over his impressive length. “I love you,” he repeated, kissing her as he ran the tip of his member through her folds, a growl wrecked through him, (y/n) wrapped her legs around his middle, heels digging into the small of his back, getting him to push forwards, sinking into her heat. Their moans got mixed up, high on the feeling of finally being one, no clothes between them, skin on skin.

She tried to bite down on her lip, toning down the volume of her sounds, mind focused on her thin walls, too scared to attract any unwanted attention. Chris tugged on her lip.

“Let them hear you scream my name,” he smirked at her, set on watching her fall apart, while she’d moan his name. Her eyes fluttered close, he felt bigger than she was used to, nothing she had every experience, already obsessed with feeling that stretched and full.

“Jesus fuck, you’re so tight,” Chris nuzzled his head against the crook of her neck, inhaling her heavenly scent, slowly building up the speed of his thrusts. Moans spilled out of her lips, he grazed her sweet spot over and over, pushing her closer to the edge, she could have already cum in that exact moment, his sounds were enough to make the knot in her belly grow tighter.

“I’m not gonna last long,” he panted. “Shit,” (y/n) curled her toes, nails clawing into his shoulders, he felt too good buried that deep inside of her, meeting spots nobody had ever managed to graze.

“So pretty,” Chris eyes wandered down to her hips, watching himself disappear into her heat with every thrust, her sounds engulfed him, urged him on, intensifying the heavenly pleasure. By now he ferociously pounded in and out of her, skin meeting hers, the noise echoed through the room, leaving them breathless as they were pushed over the edge.

(Y/n) moaned his name as her walls clenched around him, fluttering as her orgasm crashed upon her, her eyes were pressed shut. The speed of his thrusts began to falter, Chris growled as he released himself into the tight fabric, hands placed on either side of her head.

“Shit,” he chuckled, slowly pulling out of her, getting rid of the condom, eyes hooked on her the whole time. (Y/n) watched him with those gorgeous (y/e/c) eyes of hers, smiling as he crawled back underneath the covers, tightly wrapping his arms around her.

#chris evans #Chris Evans imagine #Chris Evans smut #Chris Evans x reader #Chris Evans fluff

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secret-rendezvous1d · 3 years

Text

“you’re so beautiful.”

hello, hi.

here’s some long-awaited spencer fluff that got requested to me. it’s loosely based on this idea that someone sent in to me; you should write something fluffy about spence or the reader being sick or having an off day (something along those lines), and the other just being very attentive to them. like checking in on them before the roundtable meetings or in between briefings and maybe they go out to catch an unsub and they're holding hands in the car and just being super sweet and caring :'))))) brb gonna go explode with feels.

explode with feels is how i hope you’ll feel after reading this. it did make me go all mushy inside because having spencer take care of me whilst i’m sick would be a dream come true- but it won’t because he’s a fictional character and that sucks.

this could the last story that gets posted for a while; some things are happening and i just want to take a bit of a break from posting stories on here until i’m feeling comfortable again. i’m still going to be writing behind the scenes so don’t think i won’t be; there’s so much spencer stuff to work from that plenty of stories will be coming. i just want to say that i am incredibly thankful to each and every one of you who has supported this new venture of writing and has enjoyed it so far.

like, reblog and send in some feedback, please. it’s greatly appreciated and it helps me work out what you want to see and what you are after. if you want something specific then do let me know! i’d love to try and write something for you.

thank you. enjoy.

“you’re so beautiful” spencer reid x female reader (reader insert imagine) word count; 4.6k.

* TRIGGER WARNING; very brief mentions of rape, abduction, torture. if you are uncomfortable with that, i advise not to read or read with caution. *

summary; yn falls sick and spencer likes to take good care of her when they’re working on a case.

YN woke up feeling like shit.

There was no need for her to beat around the bush and deny herself the truth on how her body was making her feel. Her head ached whenever she moved her vision from side to side and her temples throbbed close to her ears and she could feel her heartbeat from behind her eyes, pumping more vigorously, almost like it could have been heard throughout the entire building. Like the heartbeat effect in a movie when things got tense. Her breathing was shallow, her throat felt constantly dry and in need of hydration and her nasal passages felt like wet cotton-wool had been shoved up each nostril and had been strictly put there to restrict a clear intake and outtake of breath when she needed one. Her chest felt heavy, like she was drowning and had no way of coming back to the surface, and her eyes felt sensitive to the bright light of the pure sunshine streaming through the open curtains, which she assumed Spencer had opened when he woke up.

Despite feeling poorly and her head feeling like it wanted to involuntarily dip downward toward her chest, her eyes begging to have a few more minutes of sleep, she felt physically fine and there was no aching in her joints and no soreness around her neck and her legs felt strong enough to hold her weight and so she felt she could live the natural working day like normal. She could still hear so she could attend the briefing that morning, she could still see clearly so she could see the images of what they were dealing with when Garcia showed them on the screen in the roundtable room, she could still manoeuvre herself around and walk without getting dizzy or wandering from a straight line so she could easily be used in a chase to catch an unsub. She was fine to work and nothing but a couple of cold and flu capsules taken with her breakfast and some regular four-hour intakes of paracetamol through the day would keep her strong and feeling better throughout the day.

She left their bedroom freshly showered and spritzed with perfume and deodorant and dressed in an outfit that seemed like it was fitting attire to how she was feeling; a baggy sweatshirt, that hung loose down her upper body and covered her hands, and a pair of worn-out and black-denim skinny jeans that she kept in the back of her closet for days when work trousers just didn’t cut it for her. When she wanted something a little more comfortable and fitting. The material at the kneecaps almost worn out and torn from the non-stop crawling on her knees during cases that had them in tight spaces, the hems cut up from walking through thorns and shrubbery when cases took them into the wilderness, dried out stains of god-knows what sunk deep into the material which she struggled to get rid of when laundry day came around, and the denim around the inner thigh was wearing thin from the constant running around they had to do and with the amount of time she paced interrogation rooms and paced negotiation rooms when she felt on edge about something in particular. The jumper, she hoped, would keep her warm enough to not get worse symptoms over the next few days that passed so she wasn’t sent home for being ill - Hotch being more careful than strict because he couldn’t have her working excessively when her body couldn’t take the pressure.

What she expected to see, after closing the bedroom door behind her exit, was an empty living room that was void of anything related to Spencer. His house keys taken from the hooks by the front door, his tattered Converse trainers gone from the space beside her chunky black boots, his shoulder bag picked up from the floor by the coat-rack that was also missing his coat. Except, when she looked around and took a note of anything that had gone, everything seemed to have been left in the same place as where they had been left the previous evening when they arrived home; her boots were to the left of his trainers, his bag was hung up instead of left of the floor and his coat was taking up a hook on the rack beside her patterned macintosh.

He was still home and it took her a moment to realise.

There was a delicious smell of bacon and fried eggs filling the entire apartment, the delectable sound of something sizzling in a pan taking her from the entryway and into the kitchenette, where she found Spencer stood amongst the smells and the sounds and the spitting oil and the steam coming from the cooker. Stood with his back facing her and dressed in the typical waistcoat and patterned shirt, one hand holding a ceramic bowl in a tight grip and the other using a fork to mash two halves of an avocado up, head darting from the pan frying the eggs to the bacon cooking in the grill to make sure there was no burning of any of the breakfast foods he was prepping for a masterpiece.

“What’s going on here this morning? Are you burning food for an experiment or something?” She questioned, startling him in his spot, a tinkle of metal cutlery colliding with ceramic as he dropped the fork upon your sudden arrival. His body turned so gracefully in his place, the bowl of avocado being left behind on the counter, taking in the standing stature of his girlfriend as she stood in the archway of the kitchen entryway. Her hair damp from the shower but dried enough not to leave wet patches on her clothes, fresh-faced and make-up free, looking so small as she stood with a grin on her face- god, he really loved her., “Good morning, sunshine.”

“Good morning to you,” he smiled warmly, stepping across the expanse between them and reaching for her hands, curling his fingertips into hers and holding them gently in his sweetened hold. He smelt like his musky and sandalwood-scented aftershave, something that always lingered in whatever room he entered, and she loved that it made her feel so safe and secure. The smell of home when they/he were away from home. “You were tossing and turning in bed all night and I heard you sniffling this morning so I knew you were going to wake up a little ill so I thought I’d make you breakfast to cheer you up. Egg and mashed avocado on toast with some bacon to get you going since it’s your favourite at the moment.”

She smiled appreciatively. He was attentive, no matter what the subject was, and his eidetic memory came in hand sometimes when she found a new obsession or found something that she enjoyed because he always seemed to remember and never let it slip his mind. Egg and avocado on toast just so happened to be her favourite meal for the first meal of the day, which she knew would change by next week, and to see him cooking it made her heart race for him a little more than normal. She laced her fingers through his, bringing one of his hands to her lips and pressing a kiss to his skin because there was no way she was going to kiss him on the lips because she knew whatever she had could pass as quickly as it could spread. Much to her dismay, of course, because she liked to sneak the occasional and sneaky kiss whenever they could in between meetings or briefings or orders being thrown about from Hotch.

“A little ill?” She frowned, head dipping down to her chest before looking back up at him, his eyes full of concern and worry, “I feel fine. Just a little bunged up. A head cold, I would say, Spence.”

He left the space in front of her to tend to the sizzling in the pan that was becoming a little more vicious as it held the cooking eggs, spitting oil as an indication that they were ready to be taken out and placed on a plate and ready to sit upon a bed of toasted bloomer bread that had a spread of avocado along the toasted top. Turning off the hob and sliding to the toaster, slipping two slices of bread into their toaster and allowing it to toast whilst the bacon finished grilling under the heat. And, by this point, YN took it upon herself to sit at the dining table and pour herself a cup of coffee from the cafetiere perched in the middle of the table, steaming with black coffee that had been freshly made before she left the bedroom.

“You look beautiful today, by the way,” Spencer broke the silence of the quiet apartment with a huff and a puff surrounding his words, setting a plate down in front of her and swiping his brow with the back of his hand, “you’re so beautiful.”

“I don’t feel beautiful right now, Spence,” she informed him, eyes focused on the bright yellow yolk of her egg, as he went back to grab his plate and walked back to the table to sit opposite her. She was impressed with his attempt. She liked her eggs cooked in a very specific way when it came to frying them, sunny-side up and with a runny yolk that covered everything when it broke, and he managed to get it perfectly to her expectations. “I’m all bunged up and snotting and leaking from every hole today. I don’t feel so pretty.”

“Every hole?”

“Every facial hole, you pervert,” she scoffed and rolled her eyes, trying to hide the smirk that would have shown if she wasn’t trying to be a tiny bit serious. However, deep down, she was a little surprised that the innocent face that had sat opposite her at the dining table could even think of euphemisms so youthful and degenerative so quickly and so on subject when sex wasn’t exactly something he was confident in, “get your dirty mind out of the gutter.”

“I still think you look beautiful. Snot all around your nostrils or not,” he said, “absolutely gorgeous.”

“Shut up, don’t flatter me,” she kicked his shin underneath the table and grinned at the contact she felt with her toes, a wince leaving his mouth and a dribble of yolk trickling down his chin, the impact jerking his body and therefore jolting his arm and smearing avocado across his cheek, much to her amusement. “serves you right, genius.”

“Hurry up and eat, we’re needed in the roundtable room in half an hour,” he shovelled a forkful of toast into his mouth, the crust catching his mouth and swiping a mix of avocado and egg whites across his upper lip.“Try not to sniffle and cough so much otherwise Hotch won’t allow you on the jet.”

“Don’t sabotage my job, Spencer. The team needs me just as much as they need you.”

“I want you as close to me as possible so I can keep an eye on you. I’m a doctor, after all. I can look after you, carry any meds you need, be your something warm on the jet,” his sentence was halted by the ringing from the phone in his trouser pocket, the fork in his hand being placed on the plate so he could dig around and pull it out, no hesitation in his thumb to answer until he heard YN sniffle and he caught himself before he pressed the green call button. “You’re still alert to everything, yeah? Still good to come into work?”

“Do you mean, am I alert that Hotch is ringing your phone right now to get confirmation that we’ll be in on time?” She wondered, a hint of a smirk on her face when he looked up from his screen and nodded, “then yeah, I’m still good to go to work and treat the any like any normal day, Spence.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

Spencer’s question was full of concern, and she worried that those overhearing their conversation because of the silence inside the confinement of the plane had their ears pricking up at any noise made by any one of the team, his long legs striding across the alley of the plane and crouching down beside the chair YN had made herself comfortable in for the duration of the flight to Texas. Away from everyone else, away from where chat would have been occupied because her head couldn’t take the jokes and the laughter that came from the gentle banter shared, away from being seated next to anyone in close proximity because she feared that she would definitely give something to someone in the tight space they were spending the next few hours. Although, when she looked around the plane for any eyes on her or anyone who had stopped mid-task to focus on what she and Spencer were talking about, she saw everyone off in their own worlds and in their own quiet conversations as the plane coursed its path.

“I’m a bit tired but I’m okay. The pills before the flight are kicking in,” she smiled and tilted her head to the side and looked at him through red-rimmed eyes and hooded eyelids hanging above her coloured orbs, his arms folded on the arm of the chair she was curled up in. Her legs felt a little achy, in the bent up position they were in, and she remembered to move them and stretch them for a little to make sure her circulation was still running well. “I think I might take a nap right now. How long till we land?”

“Another couple of hours,” Spencer looked at his watch and then looked back to YN, his hand resting upon hers reassuringly, “I’ll brief you on everything when we land, if you want. To refresh your memory. I’ll get Hotch to get me and you to check the abduction site.”

“That’ll be good.”

“YN, get as much rest as you need,” Rossi said, standing behind Spencer and placing a soothing hand on his shoulder, squeezing it to tell him he was there and to not stand bolt upright in surprise. Partly to silently reassure him that she’d be fine if he left her to sleep through the flight to pass the time and partly to keep him stable as the plane hit a bout of soft turbulence from the gusts of high winds. “We’re thankful you chose to come with us but don’t forget to put yourself first sometimes. If you’re feeling rough then tell us. We can work around that.”

She really adored David.

He was like the father of the team; much more to YN because she had joined the team a short amount of time before he had taken over from Gideon. Even though he had common ground with almost every one of the agents in the unit, the two of them still kept a lookout for one another and checked in during intense cases because Rossi knew some of the information was enough to have someone second guess their career paths. He was the one who always pulled them aside when a situation got a little hated, he was the one who always pulled together team functions outside of work, he cooked for them and taught them Italian and he always knew how to shock and surprise them to a point where they weren’t surprised that Rossi had such an emotional and bumpy road in life.

He was the good cop to Hotch's bad cop - but that usually switched from time to time.

“Rossi, I’m fine. Honestly. I feel fine, just a little bunged up in the chest and the nose area. I struggled to sleep last night so I’m just going to try and grab an hour's shuteye,” YN spoke softly, wiping a tissue underneath her nose and balling it up in her fist, “I’ll be fine after a sleep, I’m sure. My grandma always told me that sleep was the best medicine.”

“If you’re sure,” he hummed, taking a step to the left and hiding in the alcove to make himself a cup of coffee, “absolutely sure?”

“This may not be my grandma’s couch but,” she grinned tiredly and nodded, “I’m absolutely sure.”

He smiled and held his coffee cup tightly in his hands, walking back to where he had been situated opposite JJ and Hotch, taking a glance at Morgan who had found himself comfortable on the sofa of the plane, the case file spread out on either side of him as he prepped to take control of the quick brief they always made so they were ready for when they touched down at their destination and split off into pairs to gain better understanding of who they were dealing with this time around.

“Warm enough?” Before his question was over, he was already shrugging off his jacket and opening it up, “here, some extra warmth,” he draped the material over her body and watched as she snuggled deeply beneath the garment. It smelt like him, it felt like him but it wasn’t him and she wished she could be snuggled on his lap and sleeping under his arm because that's where she slept the best- “better?”

“I was fine before,” she rolled her eyes and tilted her head to the touch of his lips, a kiss being placed against her forehead “but this feels nice.”

“Get comfy, I’ll go grab you some water.”

“You don’t need to baby me, Spencer. I’m honestly fine,” she grabbed his arm and stopped him from standing up and moving into the alcove behind her, not that he was going far but she just wanted to enjoy the moment they had going right now. They rarely got the chance to have their own conversation, in their own world, without any interruption from someone who wanted to tease them for something silly, “just stay here. I don’t need any water, not thirsty.”

“You can’t finish a sentence with the letter ‘d’ finding its way to the end of a word,” he said teasingly, a grin on his face because when she rolled her eyes, her head went the movement, like she went to ignore him because he couldn’t say anything seriously when she wanted him to be serious. Except, she wasn’t doing it to ignore him and to silently tell him that she was displeased with what he had said- she was doing it because if he let her eyes move on their own, her head would have been aching for moments afterwards, “let me grab you some water.”

“Spencer, stop,” she whined, “if I want water then I can get it myself. I’m not an invalid.”

“Never said you were but let me take care of you this time,” he was practically begging. She was independent when it came to being sick and she never liked to show a vulnerable side in front of Spencer, even when he tried his best to wear her down to the point where she gave in to his relentlessness, “please?”

She sighed heavily and pulled his jacket further up her body, tucking it beneath her chin and cosying a little deeper into the seat; she supposed she could use him and his willingness to obey orders to her advantage.

“Okay, fine.”

Two days had passed since they had landed in Texas, the longest amount of time that they’d ever spent on a case across the borders, and they were closer to the arrest of the predator who had abducted, raped and killed multiple women over the course of thirteen months than they were when they first arrived. Just a few more hours until they solved the case, had it come to an end with an arrest, so they could be on the jet and back in Virginia come nightfall.

She was ill, granted, and that was one reason as to why she couldn’t wait to get home. In the last forty-eight hours since they’d been there, YN’s head cold had turned into a full body cold and she had taken a turn for the worst but refused to work from the hotel room she shared with Spencer and kept her symptoms more secret. Partly because she was selfish - she knew Hotch would want her working away from the case because the chances of her zoning out where pretty high and she wanted in on the arrest of this unsub, she wanted to be the one who got him in cuffs and put him away for the murders of so many innocent women.

She wanted her own bed and she wanted to cuddle with Spencer and she wanted to sleep beneath her own covers and sleep in a mattress that Spencer wouldn’t check and inform her on all the facts about bed-bugs and larva that could linger within the spring beneath them, in a bed that wasn’t a tiny hotel bed that was put to shame by their comfortable bed at home. she wanted a decent shower to freshen up in because she always woke up feeling gross and no matter how many showers she took, she still couldn’t rid herself of the sweaty feeling that covered her skin. and she wanted

But she couldn’t wait to get home and try to rid herself of the information and the images she had been looking at and reciting and listening to over the last 48 hours or so. The stab wounds and the lacerations and the markings on the body of a woman who couldn’t defend herself, the brutal depiction of the well-thought out scenario that made YN shudder in her boots, the toture equipment that had been used on them when they were bound and tied up and screaming for their lives, the pictures showing the faces of the women who no longer had a life to live due to someone’s sadistic behaviour. That was the biggest reason as to why she couldn’t wait to go home.

And it was her arrest.

And she felt proud, a sense of accomplishment, that she was the one to handcuff him and walk him out from his tomb in the basement, beneath the house he had stayed in all his life, and pass him off to a police official who sat him in a police car waiting to take him to the station to be put away for the rest of his sorry life. Of course, they prevented any more attacks that this man would have prepared for but it never brought her a full sense of happiness- how could it when they couldn’t save the girls he had tortured?

“Even when you’re ill, you’re still a badass,” JJ claimed, squeezing YN’s hand and feeling the adrenaline shaking through her body. Something that they had all been through and always experienced no matter how many times they brought a criminal to justice for the horrific things they had done. “You did good, YN.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m a badass just-” she coughed into her free hand and Spencer was close by with a tissue from his jacket pocket, passing it to her so she could blow her nose and wipe the residue from her hand that came from clearing her throat, “just trying to be good at my job and trying to do it well to get these sons of bitches behind bars.”

JJ smiled at the two of them and jogged down the steps of the house, running toward Hotch as she filled him in and told him what had happened in the house and who made the arrest and who was their support and back-up in case things went wrong so he could write the report as best and as true to the story as he could. His eyes darted to YN and then back to JJ a few times as she explained in detail, a small smile on his face that was full of appreciation when he looked at YN and made eye contact which enticed a smile back in his direction, deep in conversation before clambering into the drivers side of the car.

“I’d agree with JJ,” Spencer smiled, laying his arm over her shoulder and pulling YN into his side, pressing a kiss to her hairline, “full of a cold and you still put the job first. That’s badass behaviour to me.”

“Badass,” YN scoffed and rolled her eyes, looking up at him and squinting from the sunlight that seemed to be beaming directly down upon them, “I don’t think so, Spence.”

They descended the steps outside the front of the house, his arm still holding her close, the soft feeling of grass and soil from the front lawn making a difference to the concrete they had walked upon as they exited the house. YN could feel the heat radiating all around, making her feel a little hotter than usual and she had the big jumper covering her upper body to thank for that, and she couldn't wait to be back in Virginia in the air-conditioned office that stayed at a calm and cooling temperature, no matter the weather.

“For a genius, I’d take his word for it,” Rossi said from behind them, overtaking them in a haste to grab the passenger seat in the car with Hotch, “he knows what he’s talking about, YN.”

She didn’t need to see his face to see and hear the smirk in his voice, her arm sneaking around Spencer’s waist, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment as she received a well-done from the rest of the team who had watched from behind the scenes.

“Come on,” he leant away from her and looked down at her, “you did so good today. I’m proud of you.”

“I just want to go home now. Although, I’m not looking forward to the flight with these ears. They ache like mad,” she admitted. Her earshad only just started aching that morning, something she thought would pass if she kept clearing out her nasal passages and

“We could drive home,” “I can make Morgan take us back. He won’t mind.”

“I will mind. It’s three hours by jet, five by car,” Morgan teased, elbowing Spencer in the arm with hopes he took it as a piece of banter and nothing more than that, “no, I can do. Of course. We can grab a bite to eat on the way home, too.”

“No, flying is much quicker and I want to be home and in bed by nightfall,” YN assured, climbing into the car and scooting over to the far seat behind the front passenger chair, situating herself comfortably and clipping her seatbelt around her upper body, “I’ll just take some meds in a second and sleep it off as soon as we get on the jet.”

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent, Spence,” she nodded and gave the seat beside her a pat with her finger tips, “let’s get home.”

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supercalvin · 4 years

Note

If you're still taking prompts; Arthur wakes up from Avalon into the modern world but in this universe, Merlin wasn't immortal and had died but is reincarnated without his memories so when Arthur sees Merlin, he's overjoyed but then dismayed to find that Merlin has no idea who he is (whether they were in an established relationship or still dancing around each other is up to you). Happy ending please? :3

In this house we only have happy endings!!!

Prompts + Ficlets

(now with PART 2)

***

It was a seemingly random day in spring during his second year at uni. Arthur had startled awake with dreams overtaking his waking mind. They were memories, he would later figure out, only after he had retched in the loo and had a minor panic attack. He supposed that would happen if anyone were to suddenly remember dying in vivid detail. It took him a couple hours to understand what was happening to him. After he convinced himself he hadn’t gone mad, he realized he had to find Merlin.

Merlin had to be out there. Waiting for Arthur to return. And Arthur had been taking uni classes completely unaware of his past life and the magic that, now that he was aware of it, was still thriving in the world underneath everyone’s noses.

Arthur hadn’t a clue how to find Merlin, and he spent dozens of nights searching the internet and falling asleep in the library trying to find any evidence of Merlin.

It wasn’t until almost a year after Arthur had remembered that he found him.

Arthur was walking out of the university library, after pulling an all-nighter, half studying and half searching for Merlin. He was exhausted and had a large coffee in hand, hoping it would get him through the day. So it was no surprise that Arthur immediately dropped the coffee onto his trainers when he looked up and saw Merlin, backpack slung over his shoulder and headphones hooked around his neck. Merlin looked up at the sound of coffee being spilled everywhere, and their eyes locked.

Arthur didn’t think. He didn’t hesitate. He ran forward and wrapped his arms around Merlin.

“Merlin!” He laughed, not being able to hold it back, the pure joy of having found him.

“Uh.”

It took Arthur a second to realize that Merlin was not hugging him back. He puled away, cupping Merlin’s neck to get a better look at him. And when they locked eyes, there was no recognition in Merlin’s eyes. He looked utterly confused and probably more than a little bit scared by the strange man hugging him.

“Merlin?”

“Sorry, mate,” He smiled politely like he didn’t want to anger the mad man. “Do I know you?”

Arthur’s heart sank and it felt like he was choking. He swallowed around the thing in his throat, “You don’t recognize me?”

Merlin looked him up and down, but it was clear he was drawing a blank. “Sorry, I don’t. But you know my name, so we must have met somewhere. Most people aren’t named Merlin.”

“Right, sorry,” It took all of Arthur’s energy to pull away from him. This had not been the reunion he had been hoping for. “I just…uh…”

Merlin scratched his neck awkwardly, “Uh, sorry, I’m a total lightweight, did we meet last weekend? Because I got completely smashed and I don’t remember much of anything. It’s nothing against you. My mates keep telling me to stop taking shots, but that obviously didn’t stop me.”

Arthur nodded, glad that there was such an easy excuse for his odd behavior. “Yeah, we hung out all night. Surprised you don’t remember.”

“Sorry,” Merlin gave a shy smile, “So, uh, you are…?”

Arthur laughed, not able to believe this was happening. He held out his hand, “Arthur.”

“Really?” Merlin looked skeptical but took the offered hand anyways.

Arthur gave a smile, hoping one day Merlin would find it funny, “King Arthur. Of Camelot.”

“God, what an asshole,” Merlin rolled his eyes and laughed. He nodded to the coffee spilled all over Arthur’s trousers and trainers. “Can I grab you a coffee and you can regale me with everything I did while drunk?”

“Yeah, that’d be…great.”

He wasn’t sure if the twist in his stomach was excitement or sadness. He hadn’t been sure if Merlin’s magic had left him immortal like some of the legends said or if he had been reincarnated like Arthur. Either way, he hadn’t expected Merlin not to recognize him.

That day they exchanged numbers after Arthur had scrabbled to make up a few vague things Merlin did while drunk, hoping Merlin would believe him. Over the course of the next few months, they spent more and more time together. Every time they met up or ran into each other on campus, Arthur hoped Merlin would suddenly come-to and realize who Arthur was, but he never did.

Arthur slipped up a few times, mentioning things from their past life and having to quickly backtrack. It was during one evening only a few weeks before the end of term, that Arthur truly stumbled.

The two of them were at Arthur’s flat, on the third round of beers, when Arthur had joked, “Why not just use your magic, idiot,” when Merlin couldn’t open his next beer.

Merlin turned with real fear in eyes. Arthur had seen that look before. Arthur stumbled, trying to think of some kind of joke to play it off, but he couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

“How do you know about magic?” Merlin said, looking suddenly like a dangerous animal that had been cornered.

“I…” Arthur swallowed, wondering if he should just risk Merlin thinking he was mad.

“When we met…you said that we went to the Rising Sun and got drunk.” Merlin shook his head, “I asked my friends and they told me we never went there and they’ve never met you.”

Arthur put down his beer and hung his head in his hands. “Shit.”

“Arthur, who are you?”

“I’m King Arthur,” He said with a desperate laugh, “I know I sound mad. Believe me. But our names aren’t just a coincidence.”

Merlin looked at him exactly the way Arthur had predicted. Like he was a basketcase.

“How did you know I have magic? No one knows. Besides my mum. I’ve never done magic in front of you.”

Arthur smiled, “Because I remember our past life. I know it sounds mad. That I sound mad, but I remember Camelot.”

Merlin shook his head, “That’s…Arthur, look I know most people would call me mad for saying I can do magic, but being the wizard Merlin? That’s a whole new level.”

Arthur smiled, ��You never had the beard or pointy hat either.”

“I didn’t?”

Encouraged by the question and that Merlin was willing to listen, Arthur talked. He told Merlin about how they met the first time around. About some of their adventures. About Camlann.

Arthur reached out, unable to resist any longer, cupping the side of Merlin’s neck. “I’m so sorry, Merlin. I know you don’t remember, but I’m so sorry for putting you through that.”

Merlin’s eyes watered and a tear rolled down his cheek, “I don’t know why I’m crying. I don’t remember.”

Arthur wiped the tear away, “Maybe you do.”

“Arthur…” Merlin whispered, leaning closer to him, “What were we? Back then?”

“You will always be my other half, Merlin,” Arthur said, unable to resist the pull any longer. Since he had woken on that fateful morning, remembering Camelot and Merlin, he had been aching to hold his lover once again. It had been killing him for the last few months, loving Merlin and having to pretend he was just a random acquaintance. So he leaned forward, tilting his head to capture Merlin’s lips in a soft kiss, feeling Merlin’s gasp under his lips. Merlin’s hands gripped his knee and Arthur’s heart raced as he felt Merlin return the kiss.

“Arthur,” Merlin’s voice was shaking, “That kiss…I…” Merlin’s hand reached up, his thumb skimming Arthur’s lower lip, the first sign of recognition Arthur had seen in him in all these months. Arthur pulled him in for another kiss, unable to stop himself, and reveling in the feel of Merlin’s arms flung around his shoulders.

“My head…” Merlin said between kisses.

“Sh…Don’t think about it…It’s easier if you just let the memories come in slowly,” Arthur said, trying to distract him by dragging his lips across Merlin’s chin and jaw.

Merlin gasped and when Arthur looked at him, there was recognition in Merlin’s eyes.

***

(PART 2)

***

Prompts + Ficlets

#merlin #merthur #merlin fic #merthur fic #ficlets #Anonymous

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sunshinesholland · 4 years

Text

dog days | t.h.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word count: 1.77k

Summary: Being a dog mom is tough. Having a busy schedule and feeling mom guilt is even tougher. So who are you to say no when your dog just wants to spend some time playing at the park, even if it is pouring down rain. It’s what dog parents do. Or at least just you?

A/N: So I have a half pitbull named Mia Bella and I think Tessa is absolutely cute and they’d make sweet friends and... this was self indulgence and it’s finest and I’m not even sorry about it.

It’s a little ridiculous, you suppose, while it’s managed to go from a light drizzle of rain to a torrential downpour and everyone else has completely left the park, you’re still out. Determined to get your pup the playtime she deserves, having felt guilty going into work on a Saturday morning. Most people are likely indoors right now, snuggled up with a warm cup of tea, watching their favorite series on Netflix. Meanwhile are absolutely chilled to the bone, but with your dog smiling up at you, tail wagging and tennis ball in mouth, you wouldn’t have it any other way. Well, maybe you would. An umbrella would be nice. You at least have an anorak on, and a cap to protect you from the onslaught of rain.

But your dog Bella comes back, scampering with glee and the biggest smile on her face. She drops the ball in the mud, proudly staring up at you. As a Staffordshire terrier, she’s unbelievably expressive. Her big doe eyes begging you to throw the ball and her cheeks widened in what can only be described as a grin. No other family dog you’d had as a child was ever as expressive as your own. She’s your furry best friend, and you had a million pictures on your phone to prove it. Dog mom stereotype completely fulfilled. And yeah, your trainers are soaked, and your jeans are clinging to your skin, but your baby is happy.

You smile and reach down to scratch behind her ears, before grabbing the ball lying in front of your feet. Before you can even lift your arm to throw, she’s off and running, trying to be ahead of the game and beat the ball before it gets where it’s going. You smile, because she always does this, and throw it anyways. You wait a few minutes, expecting her to come racing back as usual. But it’s a heavy downpour and your view is obstructed further by your position at the bottom of a slight incline and the presence of trees and now you’re panicking.

“Bella?! Bell!” You’re yelling, and running now, feet sloshing against the mix of mud and slick grass.

If you weren’t already cold, the breeze from your pace is hitting your already soaked clothes makes you feel even colder. But all you can think of is your dog. She’s such a sweet girl, extremely smart and friendly but she’s a pitty and the sad truth is people aren’t very kind or trusting of bully breeds.

And you hear her bark and you’re immediately fearful, is she barking because she’s scared? Is she barking because she’s lost? Is someone hurting her? And you reach the clearing of the park, away from the trees and you see her under the park’s gazebo. She’s sat next to one of the benches, with another dog and what you can only assume is its owner.

“Oh thank god, Bella. You scared me so much!” You’re out of breath and you sound like a frightened mother. Because you are.

She comes ambling to you, completely unaware of how scared she’s made you. She’s just happy she’s made a new friend and she’s got a fun sprint in. You kneel down and attach her leash to her collar, squeezing her face in your hands and ruffling her fur. You can’t be mad at her, she’s wagging her tail and she’s safe and happy and oblivious.

“I honestly didn’t think anyone else would be crazy enough to be out here,” the stranger’s voice raised to speak over the rain, flashing a cheeky grin.

The rain is relentless against the metal roof of the structure, but it’s somehow still calming and beautiful, the sound of rain thumping against the metal. A stark contrast to being fully immersed in the pouring rain in combination with the pounding of blood in your ears, as you just were.

The rain has soaked his hair, curls falling against his forehead. He’s wearing a black zip up, and a pair of joggers. He’s managed to look cozy, warm, and attractive, and he really has no business looking this good, especially while being caught in a rainstorm. You imagine you look like a drowned rat, baseball cap doing nothing to hide the mess of soaked hair flowing from under it. Your cheeks most likely flushed from the cold and the frantic dash across the park. You brush your hair that’s fallen in your face away, clearing your throat.

“I, uh, had work this morning. And I’m a graduate student and weekends are the most time we get together without me having my nose in a textbook and I felt guilty and- you didn’t ask for my life story, I’m sorry,” you blurt out, averting your eyes from this unbelievably handsome, rain-soaked stranger, looking down at Bella.

She’s not smiling at you like she was a moment ago, instead she blinks at you before yawning. Ah, what a show of compassion. She’s bored now, she’s had her fun and you’re boring her with your need for emotional support, you think.

“It’s quite alright, I suppose I did call you crazy. You felt the need to explain yourself, even if it does somewhat confirming the initial judgement,” and you’re realizing he has an English accent, and you look up to see a softer smile on his features, eyes crinkling at the corners, effectively softening the harsh assessment, albeit joking.

And you can’t help but wonder how English rainstorms are, and if that’s why he’s fine being out in this weather. And why he’s here, in the states? And also, who gave him the right to be so charming? And why did Bella come to him? She usually isn’t very comfortable around men (although a sweet dog, she is constantly in protector mode as you’re a single girl and it’s just you two in the apartment in a busy city).

And furthermore, he’s fine with a pitbull coming up to him? Okay well, she is very very cute, and very sweet, you think, completely unbiased. Not at all thinking this because you’re her owner and proud dog mom. Not biased at all.

“Well I guess since you told me all of that, I can tell you why we’re crazy enough to be out,” he jokes, sitting down at the bench, reaching down to pet his dog.

You had been so caught up in the relief of finding your pup, of the cute stranger his lovely accent and the tap, tap, tap of the rain against the roof that you hadn’t even noticed the lovely dog sitting patiently at his side. Your heart swelled upon recognition of the boxy terrier snout, familiar doe eyes and pointy little ears. Seeing another dog of the same breed group made you unbelievably happy. While you loved all dogs, you had a soft spot for the far too misunderstood, gentle terriers of this breed group.

“Me and Tess were just getting our afternoon jog in when the rain started,” he continues, smiling down at his pup and then looking back at you, effectively bringing you out of your internal dog-loving monologue.

“I actually also had work today, but my girl is important to me and I needed to make time for her,” he explains, “So we’re both crazy dog parents, if we’re willing to risk hypothermia for them, I suppose,” he grins.

You can just feel how soft your eyes must be looking at him. You kneel down, Bella is at your side, sniffing at Tess, trying to get closer.

You look up at him, chocolate brown eyes meeting yours and ironically, it’s hard to not melt, “Would it be okay to pet her?”

You ask, trying to be respectful despite her tail wagging a mile a minute, and her already leaning against you to be pet.

“I don’t think either of us get a choice, darling” he laughs, eyes crinkling and head slightly tilting back at his dog’s antics.

The sound echos in the acoustics of the gazebo, and it blends beautifully with the rain calming down, now more lightly tapping against the roof. The rain is dripping down the roof edge, against the cement. You feel warm, despite being being drenched from head to toe. You stop your petting (to Tess’s dismay), and stand up.

“Would it be alright if they went and played? Since both of their activities got cut short?” You question, smiling back in what you hope is at least half as an appealing manner as his laugh.

He grins at you, reaching to unleash Tess, as you do the same with Bella, before he stands up beside you. The dogs are immediately off, running circles around the structure. The rain has let up enough that Bella is fully in your view, allowing you to relax and chat with the unnamed curly-haired boy.

“I’m sorry, I know your dog’s name, but I didn’t catch yours,” you turn away from the dogs to look at him and he’s smiling watching the dogs run.

You think he may not have heard you but he turns to you and you’re blindsided by the dazzling smile being directed at you.

“Tom, my name’s Tom,” he replies, outstretching a hand for you to shake.

You’re laughing at his formal nature, but shake his hand nonetheless.

“Well Tom, if you’re also a single dog parent, I’d love to get a cup of coffee with you,” you grin, feeling giddy for some stupid reason. It’s his sunny disposition, and his cute face, you bet.

“I drink tea… But I suppose I could make an exception for your cute dog,” he grins, bumping your shoulder playfully,

“Yeah, going for coffee, it’s for the dogs. Like when parents have to be friends because their kids are. They like each other, and who are we to stand in the way of friendship?” You add, looking out at the park space they’re running in. In your head you’re playing it cool, but in Tom’s eyes, you’ve got a slight grin but you’re beaming, absolutely glowing even in the gloom of the rainy afternoon.

“Yeah, exactly. We might have to meet up again soon too. I mean, think of the children,” he says in reply, nodding his head, looking out as well, trying to match your attempt at a collected demeanor.

And both of you are watching the two chase each other, barking happily. All while you and Tom are grinning from ear to ear. And you’re grateful that you’re not the only dog parent crazy enough to come out in a downpour, and you remind yourself that when you get home, you’ve really gotta give Bella a treat for running off like she did.

#listen #I just want a meet cute w me and Tom and our dogs 🥺#this the dream babey #also about the title? im so sorry i couldn’t think of anything creative it’s midnight lmao #emi writes #Tom holland #Tom Holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland fluff #Tom Holland writing #Tom Holland fic #Tom Holland fanfiction #Tom Holland blurb #Tom Holland x reader #Tom Holland x y/n

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backtobackbakubabe · 4 years

Text

Stuck in the Middle with You (Part 4)

Bakugo X Reader

Words : 3211

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“So like this?”

You were currently trying a complicated move you had seen Bakugo practicing earlier. You had been enjoying your coffee from your usual spot on your back porch. Watching him work out like the total creep you were. There was something about this last move though that peaked your interest, and that something was the fact that Bakugo looked like he was struggling to do it.

He admitted that he relied too much on his quirk and he wanted to get better at his combat skills without using it. Which resulted in having to almost relearn everything. You on the other hand didn’t have a flashy quirk like him, therefore you already knew exactly how to throw your weight to accomplish the move that was currently attempting.

You landed perfectly on your feet with your hands already in position to counter attack. You locked eyes at an annoyed albeit impressed Bakugo. “You know sometimes I forget you can be a badass when you want to. I would have thought you would have been a little rusty sitting at your desk job now.”

You winked, “Well I had a good trainer growing up and I think he’s kick my ass if I ever let myself get ‘rusty’.”

He lunged at you, grabbed your hand and twisted it behind you back. He leaned in close, your back flush against his stomach. “Yeah I think he would. So why don't you show him you still got what it takes.”

You gulped. It had been a fun thought. Sparring with Bakugo again like old times. But honestly you had been bluffing. You were in fact a little rusty. But you weren't going to let him know that.

You broke free from his hold and pushed down the disappointed feeling of no longer being in his embrace. You turned and swept your leg in an attempt to trip him up. He simply laughed, “Oh you’re going to have to do better than that smalls.”

So you continued on like that for a while. Dancing around each other. It seemed like every time he started to gain advantage he’d let up a little. Which royally pissed you off. Bakugo had never, ever taken easy on you. It made your attacks harder and sometimes a little reckless. “Come on y/n. Dont let me into your head so easy. You’re supposed to be the queen of the mental game. Are you even trying?!”

You hadn't been using your quirk before. You hadn't been playing the mental game. You had thought it would be unfair considering he wasn't using his quirk either. But now you were livid. You saw red and reached out and connected with Bakugo's mind. Now anytime he decided on what to do next you would get a glimpse. It had been while since you had done this, and you almost forgot how hard it was to focus on his mind and reality at the same time. But you also forgot how easy it was to read him, his mind, his body language, his intentions. He had always been an open book to you. It baffled you when your classmates disagreed.

The dance continued but this time it was falser and more intense. You were both sweating under the hot sun. You didnt know how much you had left in you. You were growing tired and your limbs stared to feel heavy. How long had you been doing this? Minutes? Hours?

You threw a carless kick up but you could tell as soon as you did it, it was wrong. Bakugo grabbed you foot mid air. Totally off balance you began to fall. You braced yourself for impact but instead you were tackled and landed on a sweaty Bakugo. You were straddling him with your hands on his chest. Your minds still being connected you saw the worry there. He was worried he has almost hurt you.

You blushed and retreated from his mind. The fight was over, there was no need to invade his private thoughts.

He reached up and cupped your cheek, turning you to face him. “Are you okay? You’re all red. Do you need water or something?

You smiled and shook your head, “No I’m fine. Honestly. Thanks.... for... you know. Catching me.” You smirked, “I never thought I’d see the day where Katsuki forfeited a match -.”

Before you could finish your thought you were being tuned over and now he was straddling you. “Hey! I don’t remember waving any fucking white flags. I don’t forfeit, I don’t surrender, and I never give up.”

You bucked your hips and threw your weight in an attempt to buck him off and throw him over your shoulders.

He surprised you though by leaning forward and pinning you down. His nose inches from yours.

Your breath caught in your throat. You heart began to race and your mind was spinning. All you could think about was him kissing you during your panic attack. Waking up to his arm wrapped around your waist. His proximity was intoxicating. “I’m not the one with the mind reading ability here y/n... you need to let me know... how you’re feeling.”

His nose briefly brushed against yours. Your heart pounded and your blush deepened. You gently leaned up until your lips were almost touching his. “But what if we don’t want the same things...”

He took your hand and put it on his cheek. This amplified your ability to read him and he knew this. “Look for yourself.”

You were drowning in those piercing red eyes as they swam with emotion. You were over come with this overwhelming since of want, and warmth, and ... love. You began to feel what he felt as your heart grew heavy with desire but not in a sexual way as you had grown accustomed to with most men. No this was different. It was a desire to protect, a desire to hold, a desire to cherish, a desire to help.

A single tear spilled down your cheek. “Is that.... is that really how you feel?”

He wiped it away and pushed his forehead against yours. “Yes... I don’t know when it began. Sometime in high school probably. But Y/n... it’s like you’re a magnet. You’re the only one who knew the real me. The only one who had the balls to hug me because you could actually tell the difference in when I was having a bad day and when I was just being an asshole. You do your best to be there for everyone else but who is there for you?”

He brushed stray hair away from your face, “Hey smalls again I really need you to use your voice. I need to know how you fe-”

You leaned up and pressed your lips to his. It was gentle at first. Something you hadn't thought Bakugo was capable of. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck and the kiss grew in intensity.

Things were getting heated when he suddenly pulled back. You gave him a confused look but he just rubbed a thumb across your cheek. “Let’s get you off this hard ground. We’re both filthy, sweaty messes. Instead of helping you to your feet, he just swept you up into his arms and made his way into your house.

His mouth found yours again as he began to climb the stairs leading to your room. He kicked your door open without ever breaking your kiss. You could feel his hands twitch with the desire to touch you but he was holding back. Why was he holding back? Did he think you couldn't handle it? Were you that fragile to him? There you go with your spiraling thoughts again. Even now when you couldn’t be happier.. they are always there to remind you of how messed up you are.

He sat you down gently on the edge of your sink and finally pulled away to turn the shower on. He retuned and instead of resuming your make-out session he began to untie your laces and take off your shoes. Followed by your socks. Then his fingers so soft you almost didn’t know they were there drifted across your skin and up your legs as he stood back up. His hands went up your thighs and stopped at the hem of your athletic shorts. His red eyes looking to you for permission.

You gave him a weak nod and he slowly pulled your short off and tossed them into to dirty clothes hamper. Even in the hear of the moment he wasn’t going to make a mess.

He gave your forehead a quick kiss before pulling your shirt over your head. He stopped to look at you for a while. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking but you were too scared to look. What if he didnt find you attractive? What if he was disappointed? What if -?

“Hey... Where did you go?” Bakugo looked at you with concern

You shook your head as tears threatened to spill over. “It’s just.... no one... no ones ever cared before. It’s all very overwhelming. I mean I get it.. it’s hard to care for someone as fucked up as I am. I can feel you holding back in attempt to not break me but... but... I’m already broken Bakugo. It’s not your job to put me back together. That’s something I have to do on my own. I can’t be selfish with you. Thats why... that's why this needs to stop. You deserve better.”

His hands immediately dropped from you. He stood there for a moment just looking at you. He looked sad. He looked hurt. He eventually turned and took a seat next to you on the bathroom counter. “Y/n... how the fuck could you ever think that I deserve better than you?” He rubbed his hands through his spikey hair in frustration. “How could you see yourself that way? Broken? Fuck that. You’re so strong. I know you’ve been through some shit. But honestly who hasn’t? I accept you for who you are at face value. Just like you have always accepted me despite my temper, my bad attitude, my ruthlessness. When I met you I was an emotional black hole with a one track mind. I didn’t give a fuck about anything or anyone. I just wanted to prove that I was better.

But then there was you. No matter how hard I tried I could never figure you out. You obviously hated your quirk. Always seeing people true thoughts. Always having to see the awful shit people think, sometimes even about you. I know you never stood to close to the perverted grape boy in high school because his thoughts were always disgusting. I know you always felt an obligation to help people who struggling with things on the inside but were too nervous to talk about it. I watched you take care of everyone for years including me. But not once did anyone ever ask if you were okay… I was a dumb teenager back then. I regret never asking. But I’m here now. You’re not broken smalls, but that doesn’t mean that I cant help… I think… I think I might actually love you. And believe me I’m just as shocked as you are. And I understand if that’s not something you want from me. I’m not known to be the love type of guy. But damnit y/n I want to try and prove to you I can be that guy for you. I really do. If I have to spend the rest of my life helping you see yourself the way I do then I will. I don’t care.”

You stood up and took his hand in yours, “I’m going to take a shower. If you plan on joining you should probably take your clothes off.”

His eyes briefly bulged before he schools his reaction and just nodded slowly. He stripped down quickly as you removed your remaining underwear and stepped into the hot shower.

You thought you would be nervous to be naked in front of him. To be so vulnerable. But it just all seemed so natural. Like you were supposed to be here. He stood behind you as you let the hot water wash away your insecurities. He snaked an arm around your waist and pulled you to him giving your shoulder a soft kiss. “I know you’ve had to deal with a lot of douche bags before so I want to do this on your terms. This isn’t about sex for me. I can wait. There’s no pressure or..”

You took his hand that was on your stomach and lifted it until it was on your breast, You felt him stiffen “Are you sure?” You nodded as you turned you head so he could easily reach your lips with his.

You could feel your emotions bubbling up and overflowing and you didn’t know if it was your emotions or his. Or maybe it was both. Maybe this is what it’s supposed to feel like.

His lips moved to your neck as he pushed you against the shower wall and pushed into you from behind. He peppered your back and shoulders with kisses as he grinded into you. One of his hands found yours braced against the wall and squeezed them tight as his other gripped your waist. You could feel yourself melting into him. Giving yourself to him. You hadn’t realized how desperately you needed this until now. How badly you just needed someone to care.

You found yourself moaning his name as he made you feel things you couldn’t even describe. You could feel his devotion to you coming off in waves and you felt so safe, so cared for, so… whole.

Even after you both finished he helped you get cleaned up and against your protest helped you wash your hair. He slapped your hands away when you tried to take the shampoo bottle from him, “Nope I’m doing this. I’ve seen enough chick flics to know girls secretly love this shit.”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay but like it’s not as easy as washing your hair. I have thick, curly hair. You really need to massage it in and rinse it out. Otherwise it’ll be greasy.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever I got this!”

You found yourself laughing at him and his childish antics. You felt lighter than you could ever remember.

After you were wrapped in a towel and lying in bed with him as the tv hummed in the background. His fingers were carding through your still damp hair with your head on his chest.

You sighed deeply and hugged him closer, “I think I’m finally ready to talk about it…”

His hand froze, “Oh yeah? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You nodded, “Yeah. I think it would help to finally talk about it.” You scooted closer and his hand resumed playing with your hair. “When I was little my mom had this boyfriend. He was a total asshole. He was always thinking really gross stuff. Not just about my mom, but every woman he saw… including me.” You felt Bakugo tense up. “He never touched me. I promise. But just seeing what he thinking… it freaked me out enough to stop looking. I didn’t want to see what he was thinking, or what he wanted to do. There was one day when he came over and he seemed a little angrier than usual. Usually that would be a red flag to take a look and see what was on his mind. But I didn’t. I sat in my room playing with my doll as I listened to him and my mom fight. It got louder and angrier. I could hear my mom yelling at him to leave. But the all the sudden the yelling stopped. I tried to connect with my moms thoughts but I couldn’t. I knew I wasn’t aloud to even be in the same room with them when they were fighting but… I just needed to make sure she was okay.”

You could feel yourself begin to shiver with the memory that were constantly trying to forget pushed itself to the front of your brain. “He had strangled her… I sat there trying to get her to wake up for hours. I hadn’t even noticed that he had pushed the refrigerator in front of her bedroom door. I couldn’t get out so I just sat there with her. For two days. Trapped in a small room with no way out, absolutely helpless.”

You buried your face into his chest as his fingers trailed up and down your back. “That’s why I hoard food, and why I hate being alone, and why I really hate feeling trapped.” You looked up at him, “I thought that if maybe I became a hero all of this fear and anxiety would go away. But in the end it ended up being my biggest weakness. I couldn’t take the pressure. I had a meltdown right before graduation and that was all the proof needed that I couldn’t handle being a hero.”

He kissed the top of your head, “I am so sorry that happened to you. No one deserves that and if I could take this pain away I would. But I’m also very proud of you for telling me.” You could tell he was struggling to find the right words to comfort you.

You wanted to reassure him that just his presence was enough, “It’s also why I always like being near you. I never have to use my quirk to know how you feel. You’re the only person I know who always says exactly what’s on their mind. It’s refreshing to not have to guess.”

He gave you cheek a quick peck, “Can I ask what your meltdown was over? I remember you being gone for a few weeks but no one would tell us where you were.”

You shrugged. “I tracked down the guy who killed my mom and beat the shit out of him. I thought I was going to get in trouble so I tried to hide. Aizawa ended up finding me. No one ever knew this but after that he kind of became like a dad to me. He was the one who helped me decide if I really wanted to be a hero or not. He helped me find a new career path and made sure I finished school. I still get breakfast with him every Sunday. I wonder how he’d feel to know about you and I…”

Bakugo surprisingly started to chuckle, “Seriously Aizawa? He did the same thing for me… He and I still work out together. He’s known about how I feel about you for years… Mother fucker never mentioned once that he was so close with you!”

You giggled, “Like I said, he’s a father figure for me. I doubt he’d be so quick to help the hot headed blonde get a date with me. Don’t worry though I’ll give him shit the next time I see him.”

He cupped your face, “Oh I know you will smalls. It’s what you do best.”

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Tags : @tspice283 @ladysalmon @kagerose

#bakugo #bakugo katsuki #Katsuki Bakugō #bhna bakugou #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo imagine #bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #mha #mha imagines #mha bakugou #mha x reader #mha x y/n #my hero academia

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.35

Living with Curtis wasn’t that bad once the man settled in. Keith found he wasn’t as lonely as he had as they worked on getting Lance back into his daily routine around his changing body. Sure, the man had ridiculous taste in soap operas and wrestling, but having someone who knew the workings of the Blade meant he had a new training partner, which was great for him... The only downside was, he was starting to wonder if Lance felt left out. Catching Curtis up on Blade news had brought up more than one embarrassing story, Shiro had no filter when it came to telling the man about his younger brother, including Keith’s scrapes with the law. Lance could probably hear every word said between them as he worked away in his office, but he’d caught Lance staring at him more than once in a way that made his chest tight. He didn’t want Lance feeling on the outside because that sucked balls, and he was going through enough as it was. He also didn’t want Curtis embarrassing him any more than he’d already managed to do for himself thinking he’d been changed. Shiro had no filter, and Curtis literally had no filter. Keith didn’t have the best social graces, but now he was trying to juggle having two new friends, Lance’s feelings, and Curtis, with Shiro’s return imminent. Once his brother came home, things would change again. He wasn’t good with change. If people were leaving him behind, he’d rather be the first to leave before things got complicated. Things with Lance had gone beyond complicated. Leaving him... it’d be weird. He’d hated him. He’d hated him and wanted his head. Now they were friends and Shiro would be moving them into a new home. A new city. A new space to feel uncomfortable in as he approached his new job.

Sitting on the kitchen bench, Keith was patting Blue as he sipped his third coffee. Curtis was watching TV, Lance had introduced him to streaming on his TV and now Curtis was doing a pretty good imitation of Lance mid-wallowing. Coran really had sheltered the man

“You’re not supposed to be on the kitchen bench”

Walking into the kitchen, Lance was nursing a glass of wine, despite it only being lunch time

“Me or Blue?”

“Both of you”

Keith went to shimmy forward, only Lance decided he was going to heft himself up on the bench to sit next to him

“Isn’t it a bit early for day drinking?”

“Isn’t it a bit early for your fourth cup?”

It was never too early for a third or fourth cup

“Third cup”

“You’re slipping”

Climbing over him, Blue plopped herself down in Lance’s lap to groom her more intimate areas. Grabbing Blue by her upright leg, Blue pulled her leg down with a glare at her father

“Thanks, Blue. I didn’t need to see this. Anyway, you didn’t explain the wine”

“Felt like it. I know you don’t need a reason to be drinking your third coffee, but I thought you’d be with Curtis”

There it was... Lance feeling left out

“He’s watching TV. You introducing him to streaming really opened his world”

“He already knew how to stream, just not how to work my smart TV. Do you two have anything planned later?”

“Not really. Do you have anything planned?”

“Nope. I thought I’d check in with you...”

Lance had noticed that he’d noticed that the vampire didn’t seem to be doing okay. Keith wasn’t sure if this was Lance probing him to figure out where they stood, or if Lance actually wanted to spend time with him

“I was thinking about training, if you want to join me?”

Lance pulled a face with a shake of his head

“No. Curtis is much better suited as match for you. I’d only get in the way”

“You’re the one who promised to fight me when you felt better... You are feeling better, aren’t you?”

Lance sighed, his hand moving to wipe Blue’s drool back on her

“Yeah. I guess. I suppose so... Physically, at any rate”

“You haven’t turned into a bat again”

“No. And I don’t want to, so please don’t jinx me”

“I’ll try not to. How’s... everything else...?”

Keith didn’t want to seem to keen to know how Lance was fairing with the physical changes. He wanted his friend to feel better, but he was also curious as to how quickly Lance began feeling symptoms from the initial onset and if there was something in particular that set it off, like with him being a bat. It was all good information to have for future hunts, as well as good information to have to help Lance. If he ever encountered a breeder again, he’d be able to look for signs of pregnancy or weakness during those moments of arousal. A breeder was likely to be protected from what Coran said, so a secondary plan would need to be developed. The data Lance’s condition provided could be invaluable later on.

“Still all over the place. Curtis decided to leave his briefcase in front of my door. Tripped over the stupid thing. Blue had a great time smacking stuff around”

“Do you think that counts as using them?”

“Don’t ask me. I’m trying not to know”

“If you don’t want to use them, then don’t”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious. It’s just... I know people masturbate, but I don’t want to be putting anything up there that Curtis knows about... that’s icky”

“I guess so?”

“No. It is. Think about it, it’s like Curtis giving you a bag of dildos and telling you to forget he’s the one who bought them. He picked out what he expects you to put up your poop shoot... Nope. Don’t think I can do it”

Keith agreed with Lance when he put it that way

“Dude, that’s nasty”

“Yep... I’d rather not go there”

“You know...”

Lance shook his head

“Don’t make this weird”

Keith scrunched his brow

“I was only going to say you could always order yourself what you like”

Lance mouthed a silent “Oh”, Keith curious where his mind had been going

“What?”

“Nothing. I just didn’t think of that... it doesn’t matter anyway. Once Matt and his girlfriend get here, privacy won’t exist anymore”

“What do you mean?”

“That werewolves can hear everything. Shit, they’ll probably hear every time I have nightmare”

“I didn’t think about that...”

Matt wouldn’t just hear Lance’s nightmares, but both his and Shiro’s... and probably Curtis’s... Lance wouldn’t judge them, but Keith barely knew Matt

“Yep”

The pair sat in silence for a few moments, Keith didn’t like silence between them

“Wanna go train?”

“Sure”

They’d been training for the better part of an hour when Curtis came out to join them on the back lawn. Sure, Curtis’s curse made him faster, but that was nothing on Lance’s speed when he actually tried. Curtis posed a challenge, but Lance... Keith actually preferred training with Lance for the sheer fact he had his own person vampire trainer. Most if it was Lance fooling around, but the vampire had pointed out a few helpful tricks and corrected his stances as he slowed his speed to match with Keith’s. Tackling Lance down, the vampire laughed openly at the clumsy tackle, Keith’s heart starting to race as he realised he was straddling Lance’s lap as Lance’s cheeks reddened. His attention had been on Curtis, so Keith had plays dirty, though it was worth it to hear Lance laugh. Shoving him playfully, Keith sighed, knowing that Lance had barely worked up a sweat while Keith was literally internally grimacing at the beads rolling down his back

“That all you got?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know”

Keith couldn’t be sure entirely, but he was kind of sure Lance was flirting with him. His own cheeks were already red, so he was able to deny that he was secretly blushing over the intimacy of the position.

“You two seem to be having fun. Lance, you’re supposed to still be resting”

Lance propped himself up on his elbows, that sweet scent starting to roll off of him

“I’m fine. Keith on the other hand...”

Pushing Lance down, Keith forced himself off the vampire. Staying in Lance’s lap all but guaranteed he’d break and kiss Lance right there

“I’m fine, old man. You’re the one who got your arse handed to you by a human”

“Who cheated”

“It was your fault for being distracted”

“Not even... Help me up?”

Lance reached a hand up, Keith taking it in a show of sportsmanship, only to be pulled back down over Lance. Lance giggling as he flipped them over

“Now who’s distracted”

“That wasn’t fair”

“You started it”

“I see Lance is quite aroused. Lance, are you currently feeling arousal?”

Fucking Curtis. Lance immediately jumped back off of where he’d pegged Keith down, arms crossed self consciously

“I’m fine. Why don’t you two train while I take a shower? You’re a much better match than Keith and I”

“I don’t want to interrupt”

Lance shook his head, Keith cursing Curtis again

“No, it’s alright. I’ll get something organised for dinner... or something...”

With that, Lance left the pair of them, striding off towards the house as Keith dug the heels of his palms into his eyes

“I don’t think he likes me very much”

“Because you brought up his body again. You know he gets self conscious over it”

“I didn’t mean to make him embarrassed. I was merely trying to ascertain if physical activity brought on arousal”

“Well thanks for that. You’ve scared him off again”

“I still don’t think he likes me”

Keith snorted. Curtis had no clue

“Trust me. He hasn’t tried to kick you out, nor has he yelled at you leave. He’s trying, but you keep bringing up his body”

“He can’t help the waves of arousal”

“Which is why we don’t make a big thing out of it. How would you like it if every time you popped an accidental boner someone announced it?”

Curtis rocked on his heels as he shrugged

“Depends who I’m with”

Keith sighed at Curtis. Curtis really should know better, and thanks to thinking about a horny Lance, he was now semi hard within the confines of his jeans... His damn libido was out of control

“Lance doesn’t hate you. He probably understands being cursed better than you think. I’m going to take a shower. Training against him is a challenge”

Curtis looked disappointed. Keith couldn’t win. He’d wanted to include Lance, but that somehow meant shunning Curtis

“We should train together tomorrow. Lance has been helping me correct my stances to something more suitable when fighting vampires. It’d be good for you to practice against him”

“I don’t want to get in the way of you two. Coran was also very insistent that Lance was not push himself in the slightest. I am supposed to be assisting in his daily life”

Lance really would hate Curtis if he started babying him. The best way to get Lance to relax was to let him do his own thing

“You’re not getting in the way, and Lance was hardly using his strength. He’s just got a lot on his mind. Let’s head back in? Maybe you can find a horror movie for us all to watch tonight?”

Curtis didn’t look convinced, Keith sympathising with Lance all over again. Keeping the peace was frustrating. He didn’t like it. Fuck it. They needed to spend more time together, then Curtis would stop embarrassing Lance and Lance wouldn’t be so ashamed of the things happening to him

“Whatever. I’m heading back up to the house. Lance and I are going to watch a movie tonight, which you’re totally allowed to join in on”

Lance stood under the cold water, waiting for the fire in his belly to cool. He’d gone and jerked off. He couldn’t help himself. He’d been so hot and flustered after training with Keith, that he’d needed the release to bring himself back under control. Not that it felt good. He felt dirty for having to jerk off thanks to his friend. All they’d been doing was training, then Keith was in his lap and his lap was trying to be in Keith. Or rather, his lap wanted Keith in him... These stupid desires were out of control. His lip was bleeding from how hard he’d bitten down, trying to stifle his moans and not think of Keith. He was completely fucked. Curtis had called him out on being horny, now Keith was going to think he was some kind of nasty pervert. It wasn’t like he wanted to be acting like a damn wolf in heat, ready to stick his damn arse out at the first man being nice to him... He wanted... he wanted something natural, something sweet. Someone to love him without all this happening to him. He’d been so excited that Keith wanted to spend time with him. Lance wasn’t jealous of Curtis, he just... wished he had his own stories to add when Curtis was teasing Keith. Curtis was good for Keith. Curtis was mostly human. He wanted to be good for Keith. God. He had to tell him. He had to tell him that he liked him... before the others came and privacy went out the window. This going back and forth... this worrying... it was only hurting them both.

Dressing a little nicer than necessary, Lance waited on the stairs until he heard Keith come out of the shower. The vampire was nervous as fuck, but he had to do this. He had to know what came next for the pair of them. He wanted to be special to Keith, to be special to someone who saw him for what he was, and he was deep in swampy pit of feelings that some people called a crush. He was 44... and Keith made him feel more alive than ever. He liked him. He didn’t know a single thing about him, but if Keith liked him back, he hoped he’d be up for a rather impromptu date. Yes. He knew he was completely changing his tune. His body was changing and that was probably why Keith felt whatever attraction to him that he did, and he wanted to talk about that somewhere no one was going to hear. Pinned down by Keith. Laughing like an idiot. He wanted more of that. More of being the centre of Keith’s attention. He didn’t want to be the creepy friend jerking off because he was scared of rejection... which he was right now. He’d gone around in circles, and this was his dead arse’s first and only crush that he hoped maybe would be more... or maybe he was horny? Maybe this was an awful idea. Keith could say no. Keith should say no. He’d be taking his future away from him, but when it came to Keith he was as much an idiot as Hunk was for Shay. He had to man the fuck up, and face the possibly fucked up consequences like a man.

Hearing Keith swearing as he dressed brought a smile to his face. Keith had so many anger issues, that him snapping at his jeans was perfectly in line with his character. And then Keith’s phone went and rung. Lance knew he had his own phone, he’d never pressed about it. Keith would give him his number if he wanted him to have it. There was only one person who’d call him, and that was Shiro. His courage abandoned him, Lance pushing himself up and striding back to his bedroom, where he slammed his door behind him, before throwing his dramatic arse face down on his bed. What was he doing?! He couldn’t tell Keith he liked him! He’d just jerked off because of him! That wasn’t normal! He wasn’t normal. What was wrong with him?!

Lance tried not to listen to the call, he then tried to ignore the sound of Keith’s boots coming up the stairs... then he tried to ignore the way Keith knocked on his door

“Lance? It’s Keith, did you just slam your door?”

“I’m fine!”

“I’m coming in”

Nooooo. His turbulent feelings would cave all over again. Not that Keith knew that, the hunter letting himself into Lance’s room

“Lance?”

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine. What’s up?”

“Um... okay, well, Shiro is coming tomorrow morning. He just called, but you probably heard”

“Wasn’t listening. Good for you. You get your brother back”

Fuck. He was being such a wanker. He didn’t want to be like this

“Are you sure your okay?”

He wanted his Mami. He wanted Coran. Someone to spill these feelings too...

“I have to go to Platt”

“What do you mean?”

“I have to go to Platt. It’s Mami...”

“Is she okay? Did she have another fall? I can call Shiro and...”

He felt sick at the lie

“You know what it’s like as you get old”

“Should I tell Curtis we’re going out?”

God. Could Keith have phrased that any worse?

“I’m going. You’re staying here with Curtis”

“You can’t go alone...”

Yep. He sure could

“And your brother is coming home. I need someone I trust here”

“What if...”

What if he died in a fiery crash? He’d take one fiery crash for thirty-two thousand dollars. Climbing up, he intentionally stared at Keith’s boots, not wanting his concern

“Keith, I’m going. I’ll be in touch. Please make sure Curtis doesn’t burn the house down”

#once bitten twice shy #oncebittentwiceshy #ashratherose

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thewolfisapartofmysoul · 4 years

Text

Okay lovelies...

Dewey finn x reader fic. Our sweet Dewey Finn gets the reader a dog as a suprise. Superfluffy!

Got an amazing request from @bugdrinkss

And iknow it essentially was an ask about a puppy... But it turned out an older dog. At the end of this fic I'll explain why.

Hope you enjoy reading.

Melody

You smiled as you looked around the group you was teaching, all the puppies looked tiredly back at you from their spots. A beautifull sight, especially with the setting sun shining a warm orange light upon the pups.

"Okay guys... you and the doggos have been working hard. Good job. Let's wrap it up for tonight. Class dismissed." you joked to your group as everyone took their dog on the leash and walked off the training-field. You snickered when you saw most of the puppies were too tired to walk to the car properly, their tiny paws clearly heavy from the 30 minute class.

"Hey... guys... carry the pups if they are too tired to walk okay...? Tiny legs means a bigger distance to get to the car. Help those babies a bit. See you guys next week."

When the group left you huffed as you went to clean up the field. You loved training dog's... but the puppy groups always wore you out. Tiny braincells, tiny concentration and high expectations from the humans attached to them.

You checked your phone. Dewey called. He knew you were teaching, and he should be at band-practice tonight. You frowned and decided to call him back. Worried something was up, you cursed silently as the phone rang...

"Mister Finn... you better remembered to bring your house key this time..." you groaned tiredly.

Your eyebrows shot up as you heared the sound of the gate to the field opening, at the other side of the field. Weird... you thought everyone had left. Just when you were about to take a look, Dewey picked up his phone. "...Hey dear..." he spoke.

You heared the smirk in his voice even through the phone. This made you smile a bit, his voice never failed to cheer you up. "Hey Dew... you called?"

Dewey replied with a hum: "...yeah i did. Hey... erhm... sweety... CATCH!"

You was about to ask what the hell he ment by that, when a tennisball flew your way from across the field. You yelped and by reflex catched the thing before it hit your nose.

You heard Dewey chuckle through the phone, and you saw him strutting towards you from across the field.

"Hey sweetheart... you got a hell of a reflex..."

He hang up the phone and waved a dorky wave your way yelling: "Good catch babe!"

You smirked and took a deep dramatic bow... "Thankyou very much for that almost-hit-in-the face... Hey rockstar! Why aren't you jamming with the guys?"

Dewey pulled you into a kiss by the dog-leash that was dangling loosely around your shoulders. "...Ned got sick, so no band-practice for me tonight." he pouted. "So i figured I'd come and stalk my dog-teaching girlfriend to see her in action."

You kissed him again, ruffeling your hands through his brown locks and pulled away. "Thats so sweet Dew. You sure you wanna stay? It's getting a bit cold and I still gotta teach one more group before I'm done."

He pecked your lips again, smiling happily when he did so. "... I'd love nothing more sweetheart." He mumbled, his hands caressing your sides as he spoke.

You grinned: "Okay champ... Lets get moving then. Gotta set the field up for the older dogs. I need the hoops and the long leashes... do you mind getting them for me, Dew?"

Dewey smiled at your excited antics. Loved seeing you bounce in excitement when you guided the dogs and their owners. Practically buzzing with excitement he happily watched you teach your group. He smiled seeing you put your heart and soul in your favorite 'resque-group'.

You've been a dog trainer for 4 years now, and according to your clients... a good one too.

The most fun you had with the 'extra special' classes. The dogs that were shelterdogs or resque-cases or second-hand-home-assecoires...

The world gave up on those lovely furry souls because they had some 'luggage'... and it gave you great joy to make the dogs and their owners understanding each other better.

When the lesson was over and everyone left you skipped over to were Dewey was lounging. Your still excited form kissed him deeply, and he tugged you closer by your waist. You felt his rosy, warm, scruffy chin brush against yours and he tickled your side as he murmered between kisses: "Hey... you rocked with that group... Those are some awesome dogs, man... especially the brown with white one. What's his name again?"

You smiled and your eyes lit up at his comment. You caressed Deweys stubble and he had to hold your shoulders to stop you from bouncing. "That beauty is Melody. She's the best of my class. But the owners still try to find her a good second home, they are forced to move to an appartment where there are no dogs allowed."

Dewey frowned a bit and he stroked your hair when he asked: "They are lining up for that beauty, right? Can't be that hard to find her a home..."

You smiled at Dewey. He noticed the smile didnt reach your eyes though. You sighed deeply: "Well Dew... Melody carries some... instructions with her. This is my fixer-upper class remember?" Dewey nodded, and you continued: "Melody is a sweetheart, but she's got some issues. They can't find her a home, because she's scared to be left alone, and is quite vocal. She barks and howls a lot. With proper training, thats fixable. But most people dont have the time or patience..."

He pulled you close to kiss your forehead, his hand lay on your cheek as the other drew patterns on your lower back. You swallowed deeply and looked him in the eyes. Your heart always went out to your clients and dogs, but Melody was different.

Dewey pulled you into a big hug after he saw the flash of hurt in your eyes. He knew you loved your groups, and every single dog in it... Melody was no exception. He pulled you flush him and you buried your face in his neck. His arms held you tight. You sighed at his sweet gesture. Reveling and drowning in his comfort, hugging Dewey grounded your emotions a bit.

"Im gonna help you love. I'll ask around at school for you okay? I'll flyer around the bars... we're gonna find Melody a good home. Okay?" Dewey mumbled against your hair and you nodded.

You were gonna do this together.

You looked happily up at Dewey, and gave him a quick peck on his lips before shouting: "Last one to gather all the hoops is a loser!" And you bolted halfway the scentence.

Dewey shook his head with a smirk on his lips, trying to race you to gather the hoops.

.....

Later that week you came home from grocery shopping and you dropped your bags tiredly in the kitchen. You walked over to the kettle to make yourself some tea. Dewey was in the living room, and you heard him jamming at his guitar. The humming of his voice and the sound of his guitarstrings were always a happy sound to listen to. You smiled a bit and shouted to Dewey: "Hey rockstar... want some coffee?!" He yelled back at you: "Would love some sweetheart! I'll be there in a sec...."

You brought the coffee machine to life and fixed Dew a cup, after that you plucked some mint off the plant and put some honey in a teacup.

You heard the water had starting to boil, the high whistling sound of the cettle filling your ears. You calmly went over to the stove to turn it of, but frowned at the sound coming from behind you.

A howl reached your ears. A howl?

You quickly turned around and looked straight in the happy face of Melody. Still howling happily together with the cettle on the stove.

You quickly turned off the stove and crouched, Melody jumping in your arms. You chuckled when she licked your nose and made a happy noice.

"Hey... hey... my happy high note... whatcha doing here sweety?"

Melody barked at you excitedly and ran out of the kitchen to the living room.

You curiously followed the dog and was suprised with the sight of Dewey standing awkwardly in the living room. With a leash in his hands and a dog bed at his feet. You noticed quickly that the dog-bed had little guitars on it, and you couldn't hold back a smirk. Dewey's face was a mixture of excitement and nerves, but he smiled brightly at you. "Hey love, welcome home. I erhmmmmm...." he awkwardly scratched his stubble and you saw the knuckles of the hand that was holding the dog leash turning white. Your eyes darted down towards the food bowl at your feet, that said 'Melody'.

You beamed at Dewey and squeeled a high pitched sound as you launched yourself into his arms happily. You squeezed him tightly against you and kissed his cheeck while you reached for his brown locks. You heared him mumble against your neck: "....IMightHaveAdoptedMelody...."

You jumped up and down in excitement and pulled back to press a sweet, excited kiss on Deweys lips. He pulled back and continued: "... i just... want you to be happy... and i think you would be an amazing dog mom..."

At that Melody howled again, making Dewey and you look up from your embrace. Dewey kneeled and melody pressed her wet nose against his hand, asking for a cuddle too. Dewey chuckled when Melody sang in sync with the "awwwwwhh..." you chocked out at the sight. You pulled dewey into another happy kiss again and chuckled at the confusion on the face of your boyfriend. Melody was sitting in front of you both, touching the leash in deweys hands repeatedly with his nose.

Dewey looked up at you with a dumbfounded expression. You smiled softly at him... man... he had a long way to go.

You petted Deweys hair and murmered against his lips: "Someone wants to go for a walk dad..."

He smirked at that, kissed your lips and turned towards Melody. With a high pitched voice he sang against her: "Melody... you wanna go on a walk with mom and dad?" Melody barked, chased her own tail happily and lay down. You and Dewey laughed at the obvious awnser. You took the dog leach in one hand, and Deweys fingers in the other and walked out the front door.

Suddenly a thought hit you. "Hey Dew...."

He turned his head to look at you: "Yes dear?"

You squeezed his hand a bit, kissed his scruffy cheek again and continued: "Melody's dog class is at tuesday.... bring her ball and a lots of kisses to woo the teacher okay? I expect you at 8..."

The reason i chose a grown dog instead of a puppy. In my opinion puppies are way too often bought in an impuls or whitout much thought into it. Iknow a lot of dogs who have to go to shelters because the owner has no idea about the specialisations of the breed he gets, or is givin a dog as a gift. Character and breed are a big thing, every dog (breed) has his own needs. Remember this. Please... do research to find out if the dog you are going to buy is a match.

@ironmansuucks @paxenera @heknowshisherbs @hoodoo12 @large-unit @little-miss-shy-goth @thats-specific @vicunaburger @go-commander-kim @stranger-strings @bugdrinkss

#soft dewey finn #dewey finn imagine #dewey finn #dewey x reader #dewey finn fanfic #dewey finn fanfiction #dewey finn x fem!reader #dewey finn x you #dewey finn x reader #school of rock broadway #school of rock the musical #school of rock fanfiction #school of rock #school of rock musical #alex brightman #bouncy oddball #its so fluffy

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ask-rp-devra · 3 years

Text

The professor flicked around the map a bit, looking closely at the local weather too. “The Giants Bed sounds interesting, weathers clear over there too, looks more green, sound good to you?” The group turned one final corner down to a ramp leading to the town, clearly now were people coming and going, some farmed the land, others chattered amongst themselves. Looked quaint from where they all entered.

She nodded, hand resting on Aliza’s back as they walked. “Sounds like a plan. I was actually reading a book on the train about that area. Apparently a lot of the nido lines live there. I’ve never seen them in Galar before.” She held up her camera and grinned. “I’ve got to get some good pictures of them! Maybe I’ll get good ones of a nidoqueen or nidoking!”

A perfect Pokemon set for any budding herd trainer, peach had seen a fair few in her time, so they’d lost their immediate excitement, but for sure seeing if they had cold weather adaptions here would be interesting.

“I don’t doubt you’ll find one or two that are close enough to take a picture of, they’re not always as aggressive as folks like to assume, they’re just a bit big.” The trainers moved through the town, getting to a large field with crops growing in half and a sort of welcome fate around the edges of the half that stayed clear of planting. Peach recognises a lot of the sprouting things, but some caught her eye, unusual and different because of the weather this little hamlet got, lots of snow from the looks of it. Nestled amongst the fields were a couple of stalls, one with hot soup and bread for sale, the other drinks and snacks, the sweet smell of hot coffee wafting over to the two and their Pokemon. As peach joined a short waiting line, her eye landed on a weird statue, depicting what looked like two different Pokemon working in cahoots. “hey, check that out, is there an info board on it or something? Wonder what Pokemon that is...” it was right next to where the stall with hot drinks had set up, easy to see, but worn down by time.

Devra looked over at the statue as she joined Peach in line. She then thought for a minute before digging out a small book from her bag. “I feel like I’ve seen something like that before.” She spent a few minutes flipping through the pages before she held the book out to peach. “Here. It doesn’t give a name for the Pokémon, but it calls it the King of Bountiful Harvest. Hm....” she took another look at the book than at the statue. “Something is off with that statue. Or maybe the book? The size of the head doesn’t match.”

She squinted at the picture of the Pokemon in question, it seemed kind of like the statue. “you’re right though, this one in the book has a fat head, maybe the statues broken? Looks pretty old, they might have lost the top bit years ago for all we know.” The woman was now at the counter, ordering coffee and snacks for everyone, pocketing things for later, just in case she came face to face with a hungry Pokemon.

“‘bountiful harvest king...sounds like a grass Pokemon to me. What else could it be?”

She thought for a moment as she sipped her coffee. “Maybe.....ice type? Based on the area it lives in I mean. But grass is a solid option too. Do you think it might be dual type? A lot of legendaries are from what I’ve read.” She kept a close eye of Aliza and coal as they raced a little ways ahead, calling them back when a shady looking man started eyeing them. “Why do people have to be so weird? Pokémon are so much easier.”

“Could be ice, this place is pretty cold, seemingly a lot of the time too. A dual type is pretty common, regardless of rarity it’s a really good chance that whatever it was, it had another typing. Maybe there’s a library or something with some information, sounds like an interesting old tale to investigate.” Val was as per usual keeping watch, leaving Peach to relax for five and not be on sentry duty. Hearing the comment on people and how they behave made the woman laugh a bit, almost involuntarily.

“pokemon ARE way easier. Think I’d rather front up a raging Tauros than a displeased human, least you know what’s coming most of the time.” Spotting the odd looking guy in the distance, the woman checked her bag, Dreepy safe, getting a little chin scratch, enjoying the view. The youngsters were in sight, Val has her eyes on him too.

“c’mon, let’s ditch this place, we can camp tonight, find some lodgings some other time, gotta check this Giants bed out anyway.”

She grinned, hand back on Aliza’s back as the two young ones came to her side. “Sounds like a plan to me. I want to try and get some good sunset shots of Pokémon.” She finished her coffee and threw the cup in a trash can. “There’s just so much here to see, I can’t wait to get to all the areas here.”

With a swift pace the pair began their way past the buildings that lined the quiet streets, their partners sticking close for now, before the road led out of town, through more heavy snow, though you could see an end to it far away in the distance, the first signs of fresh green plant life since arriving, out side of those heavily grafted, very densely fruiting trees that the public seemed to care for with diligence. Despite the bitter cold there was a lot to see on the way though, and both couldn’t help but enjoy seeing the wild delibird flock together, and you could see tracks from Amaura, a once extinct species that now thrives in certain areas.

Devra would stop from time to time to take a quick picture, grinning as she checked each one. “I’ve never seen an amaura before. Think we’ll get to see some up close?” She threw a stick for Coal that he brought her, laughing as Aliza took off with the little pup to find the stick.

“‘for sure, the tracks are fresh, got some droppings too from them, must be a herd around, they’re rather friendly even when wild too so I don’t doubt they’ll come over to investigate us if we find them.” The green grass ahead got closer and closer, snow subsiding, and a touch of sunshine peeking out from behind the clouds, it could even be classed as good weather now, despite the bitter cold wind that didn’t ease up. “‘keep your eyes peeled for trees leaning at weird angles, The bigger Nido’s use them to scratch and it can uproot them a bit, missing bark and skin or fur will also let us know what’s out here.”

She nodded as she started to keep more of a lookout. She spent some time looking for more sings for the amaura, but soon spotted something even more impressive. She gasped slightly as she knelt down, waving to Peach to get her attention. Two massive Pokémon, a nidoqueen and nidoking simply basking in the sun together.

the pair seemed pretty alert despite their basking, despite their eyes being closed both of them had their ears picked up, swivelling to face the humans as they entered the Pokemon’s area. “watch them, they do suddenly just bolt at you if you’re not ready.” Peach had seen plenty and let Devra do her thing, keeping her back covered, noticing a few poliswine to watch in the distance. “we could probably find a big group if they’re this easy to come across here, might get some shots of all the evolutions together if you’re lucky.”

She snapped a few quick pictures and nodded, grabbing hold of the curious pony as she sniffed the air. “I’d love a picture like that. Where do you think we should start?”

With a look around, there was a good 20 minutes of sighting nothing, but as they moved deeper into the Giants Bed area, trampled foliage became more apparent, they dove deeper, into more wooded areas, coming to openings from time to time, even stumbling across some old looking ruins of buildings. “ah there look!” Tracks, peach showed her several that crossed and travelled north, some from the smaller evolutions, explaining how to distinguish them from other big species by their singular digging claw on the foot and little differences in how the weight distributed to show how big or old the Pokemon may be. All handy when hunting for wild ones.

“follow them and you should get to a larger group.” She pointed to a wall of bushes and trees, where the tracks led off too. “‘alternatively, see if Cole can pick up the scent, they’re usually quite good for this kind of work.”

She nodded, bringing him over to look at the tracks. After working with him for a while Coal finally understood what Devra wanted from him, and started to sniff around the area for a stronger trail. After some time he found what they were looking for, yipping softly at the humans to follow him. “I think he’s got it!” She started to follow slowly, not wanting to make too much noise.

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ferryboatpeak · 4 years

Text

chapter 6.2

time for some more tom/harry/ben/meri! turns out this took so long to write because it is a very long chapter. infinite thanks to @lunarrua for the beta and @wanderlustwaning for the encouragement. only one or maybe two more chapters to go!

previous installments all linked here

As Tom’s getting Ruby up from her nap the next morning, gravel crunches under tires in the driveway. Ben’s been out late on night shoots this week; maybe he’s home midday to make up for it. Tom lifts a corner of the blackout shades to see if it’s the Range Rover.

The driveway’s empty. Completely empty. At the end of the lane, the sleek tail of Harry’s black car disappears around the corner. Tom’s stomach lurches.

He turns back to Ruby, who’s halfway dressed and busily emptying a bin of toys. “Let’s go have a snack.” Grabbing the first sundress he sees in the drawer, he kneels behind her and snaps her into it while she plays. He sweeps a load of blocks and musical instruments back into the toy bin before tipping it back onto its base, and offers Ruby one of the blocks that remain scattered on the floor. “Can you help?”

Ruby grabs a second block from the floor and wanders off toward the window. Tom hooks an arm around her waist and hauls her back to the mess on the floor. “Time to clean up, see?” He tosses another block into the bin. Ruby squirms and giggles. Tom gives up. Keeping Ruby contained with one arm, he gathers up the rest of the blocks with his other hand, and finally guides Ruby toward the bin to drop in the last two.

Tom glances through the open door of Harry’s room as they pass, just quickly enough to see a pair of trainers and a used set of workout clothes on the floor at the foot of the bed, and a black hoodie sliding halfway off the duvet above them. The panicky feeling under Tom’s ribcage subsides. Harry’s not gone for good. He’s not entitled to any information about Harry’s plans; soon enough, Harry’s going to go and be gone forever. Still, Harry seems like the kind of person who says goodbye.

Meredith’s standing by the sink in the kitchen, eating yogurt and granola from a teacup. She makes it look casually elegant, not at all like Tom eating cereal from a coffee mug because Carl didn’t do the dishes again. She smiles and sets her cup on the countertop when she sees Tom and Ruby. “Hello, sweetheart.” As Tom deposits Ruby into her seat at the island, Meredith leans over to kiss the top of her head. With a quizzical look on her face, she plucks at the strap of Ruby’s sundress. “That one’s getting a bit snug, isn’t it.”

“Maybe,” Tom says noncommittally. He supposes it was harder than usual to get her snapped in.

Meredith goes back to her yogurt. “When you’re packing up, can you separate out the things she’s outgrowing? No need to carry those back to London.” She scrapes the inside of the cup and licks the last bits of granola off the edge of the spoon.

“Sure.” Tom hands Ruby her sippy cup. “What do you want me to do with them?”

Meredith rinses her mug and leaves it by the side of the sink. “Just leave them here. The maids can take them.”

“Oh, do they have kids?” Tom hasn’t talked to the cleaners. He’s usually been outside with Ruby when they come around every other day or so, bringing with them a different kind of awareness of hierarchy. They’re on the payroll just like Tom is, but after they bustle through the main house leaving the beds plumped and tucked and the scent of lemon and bleach in the scrubbed farmhouse sink, they clean Tom’s room too. The first time he came upstairs and discovered the fresh tracks hoovered evenly into the carpet, he’d walked carefully along the lines in his stocking feet, one foot in front of the other.

Meredith shrugs. “They may be able to use them.”

Tom’s no expert, but Ruby’s clothes seem nice. Soft fabric, prints that aren’t garish or babyish, some labels he recognizes from adult clothes. “Don’t you want to save them?”

“Can’t count on the next one being a girl.” Meredith pauses on her way out of the kitchen. “Wait. If the romper with the orange stripes is too small, save that one. And the hedgehog pyjamas.”

Tom nods. “Those are cute.”

“They’re my favorite.” Meredith presses a hand to her heart. “The rest of it isn’t worth the hassle. There’s enough to pack up as it is. I’ve got to start breaking down the office...” The words trail back to the kitchen behind her as she heads off to work, closing up the summer, box by box.

***

Harry lopes in from the kitchen as Tom’s coming downstairs at the start of Ruby’s afternoon nap. He’s fresh out of the pool, hair trailing in the same damp tail that Tom wrapped his fingers in yesterday. Harry ought to stay away from the pool, Tom thinks. He’s like one of those gremlins that gets dangerous if you let him get wet. Or more dangerous, at least.

“Hey.” Harry leans one hand on the end of the stair rail. He tucks his other thumb into the fold of the towel wrapped around his waist.

“Hey.” Tom stops halfway down the stairs, keeping a height advantage. The most defensible position. He’s tried to hold himself carefully away from Harry since the pool yesterday, and it’s only made him more conscious of how Harry takes up space, filling every room he’s in. Legs sprawling over the couch, index finger jabbing the air with every point he makes, always a hand on someone’s shoulder. Harry’s hard to avoid, but Tom did his best, tucking his knees up under him at the far corner of the sofa while they watched Queer Eye with Meredith last night.

By the end of the first episode, Harry was stretching out those legs of his over the cushions, poking his toes into the side of Tom’s thigh. Tom cautiously side-eyed him. Harry smirked and toed him again. The least awkward option was what Tom would have done all along: good-naturedly shove at his feet, elbow back when Harry kicked at him, let Harry’s legs wind up in his lap anyway. So that’s what Tom had done. He still doesn’t understand what happened yesterday, but apparently Tom’s forgiven. Or he’s forgiven Harry.

At the bottom of the stairway, Harry shifts from one foot to the other. “Do you want to go into town for dinner tonight?”

The nerve-jangling possibilities explode in front of Tom: dinner with Harry, just the two of then, a chance to get out of the house, a chance to figure out where they stand after yesterday. And then he realizes that Harry’s question wasn’t specific to Tom. It probably includes everyone.

“What’s Meredith think?” There are logistics, things that probably haven’t occurred to Harry. Will they have to bring a baby seat, will it be all right to eat early enough for Ruby to be home by bedtime, can all of the rest of them manage to eat while Ruby’s squirming and screeching and needing attention the way she does whenever they eat dinner with her at home.

Harry gives him a strange look. “You get off once Ruby goes to bed, right? We’ll go after that.”

“Yeah, but…” Tom should check, even if it’s not all five of them. Just to make sure. He dodges around Harry, heading for the office.

“Meredith!” Harry tips his head back, bellowing. Tom’s hand jerks up reflexively, trying to shush him before he wakes Ruby, but Harry ignores him. “Can Tom come out and play tonight?”

Tom cringes. He would never yell at Meredith from the next room. He darts toward the office, wanting to catch her before she has to get up from her work.

“What?” Meredith calls back, just as Tom reaches the office door. She’s at her desk, sorting through an array of file folders spread in front of her.

“Tom and I are going out tonight and he wants your blessing!” Harry hollers it from the staircase almost gleefully. Ruby’s going to wake up, and Tom’s going to have to try to put her down again, and she’s going to refuse to sleep and she’ll be cranky all afternoon, and Tom really needs her to nap for an uninterrupted 90 minutes so he can clean up the kitchen and have a small meltdown about tonight.

Meredith looks up from the files with an expression of mild surprise. Tom’s face burns. “Sorry, I…”

“Of course you should,” Meredith interrupts him. “You ought to get out of here for a night.” She waves him away. “Go on, have fun. Do you want me to put Ruby down?”

“No,” Tom says quickly. “I’ve got it.” So Meredith’s staying with Ruby. He’s going to dinner with Harry. “We can go after,” he adds.

“All right, then.” Meredith reorients herself back to her work.

Tom blinks and turns to leave. His pulse is still racing.

Harry looks at him from halfway up the stairs. His towel has come untucked, probably from all the yelling. He’s holding it up around his waist with the fabric bunched in one hand. The hemmed ends fall open to frame the narrow triangle of paler skin at the top of his thigh. “All right?” Harry asks.

Tom nods. “See you tonight.” Somehow the words come out normally, casually, despite the swarm of bees that’s forming in his stomach. He’s going out with Harry, just the two of them. To dinner. Harry asked him. Almost like a date. Not that he should be thinking in those terms. But still.

***

When he comes downstairs after putting Ruby to bed, the sight of Harry doesn’t do anything to quell Tom’s nervous anticipation. Harry’s wearing a pair of white trousers Tom hasn’t seen before, just as baggy as his usual gray ones, and a short-sleeved black shirt with one too many buttons undone. Something glints around his fingers, and for a single irrational second Tom thinks Harry’s got a set of brass knuckles on. But it’s just a fistful of rings, all different shapes and sizes, blurring into each other to make his hand look armored. Harry was wearing them the day he arrived, Tom remembers, and he hasn’t seen them since.

It reminds him of how the sight of Harry naked used to set him on edge. How he lived for a week determinedly directing his gaze away from the pool, away from Harry’s narrow hips and broad thighs and the rivulets of water tracing down the defined lines of his back. How it made him feel under attack, jealous and jittery and wanting. But now Harry’s naked body is familiar, by sight and touch and taste. And it’s the sight of Harry clothed -- clothed like this, cleaned up and trying -- that scares him more than anything.

Harry smiles up at him. “Ready?”

“I’m just going to change.” He hadn’t planned on it, but with the way Harry looks, Tom feels underdressed in his usual shorts and sandals. He’s got to make some kind of effort, even though this isn’t a date. It’s just dinner. Dinner with someone he’s fucking. He’s had a lot of those dinners this summer. They’re not dates.

Up in his room, he ransacks his haphazard pile of clean clothes and the dregs of his duffle for something presentable. Trousers. A clean t-shirt. A plaid buttondown over it. He does up the buttons as an experiment, and then undoes them to leave the shirt open like he usually would. His boots are waiting in the closet, where they’ve sat untouched since the day he arrived. It feels like pulling a secret weapon from under a floorboard. Thick soles to buoy him through the evening, artificial confidence laced tight around his ankles. Armored, like Harry with his rings.

That makes him think of his pendants, which he stopped wearing as soon as Ruby decided they were fun to grab. It takes a moment to remember that they’re zipped in the side pocket of his duffle. He looks in the mirror as he loops them back around his neck. He hasn’t had a haircut all summer; the tails of it are sticking out behind his ears. He rakes his fingers through it instead of reaching for his brush, trying to scrape it into some sort of order that doesn’t look like he’s trying too hard.

Harry’s waiting by his car in the blue-gold evening light when Tom comes back down. The sunglasses that were pinning his hair back are on his face now. Tom cuts diagonally across the terrace toward him. As he gets closer, he can hear the car key clicking against Harry’s rings as Harry works it through his left hand, fidgeting.

Harry grins at him. “You look nice.” The sunglasses steal the rest of his expression; there’s no way for Tom to tell if he’s serious. He should have said it to Harry first. Or nobody should have said it at all; Harry’s had his mouth on Tom’s dick too many times this summer for an all-purpose “you look nice.” That’s not what you say to a sure thing. That’s what you say on a first date.

“Something without baby mess on it.” Tom twitches one of his shirttails to demonstrate, hoping his response works whether or not Harry’s serious. It’s too late to say you too, and anyway you too implies an equivalence that’s not reality. Harry, in his white trousers and loafers, looks nice like he ought to be strolling along the Riviera and Tom looks nice like Ruby hasn’t smeared applesauce on this particular t-shirt.

“Shall we?” Without waiting for an answer, Harry opens his door and slides into the driver’s seat.

The passenger door resists Tom. He tries the handle a second time. Harry’s disappeared, invisible through the dark glass, and for a moment it feels like he’s being tricked. Tom raps his knuckles on the blind window. A second later the door unlocks soundlessly, recognizable only by the smooth release of the latch he can feel through his fingertips on the handle.

“Sorry,” Harry says when Tom opens the door. “Not used to this car.”

“Thought you were going to drive away.” The passenger seat is tilted backward at an indolent angle, so that he’s looking at Harry from behind and below. He leans over his knees to feel for the lever to bring it upright, but the underside of the seat doesn’t have any mechanism.

Harry cackles and zooms his hand forward to pantomime peeling out. “Go back inside, have some salad with Meredith.”

Tom laughs, as if that hadn’t been his exact fear ten seconds ago. He slips his hand down by his door and finds three different switches. He presses cautiously at the top of an oblong one. With a faint whir, the seat back rises to meet him.

The inside of the car is all black leather, punctuated with swoops of wood grain along the dash. There’s no trash on the floor, no coffee cups in the console, nothing that’s been tossed into the back to clear out the passenger seat for Tom. It doesn’t even smell like Harry.

Tom buckles his seat belt. “Is this your car?”

“It’s a rental.” The engine comes to life with a restrained purr.

The gravel underneath them is barely noticeable as Harry pulls down the drive, even though Tom feels like he’s riding just off the ground. He tries to remember the last time he was in a car. Maybe some errand in town with Meredith and Ruby. Compared to the high and mighty Range Rover, any other vehicle would probably feel low.

“How does that work, renting something like this?” This car, sleek and soundless like a predatory sea creature, doesn’t seem like something they’d just hand over the keys to at the airport counter.

“I don’t know,” Harry says reflectively, as if it’s only just occurred to him that this sort of information would be possible to know. “I didn’t book it myself. They just met me at the train station.” Harry brakes suddenly at the end of the lane, just before the turn onto the country road, and looks over to Tom. “Do you want to drive?”

“Are you serious?” He hasn’t driven anything since the last time he was home, in the spring, borrowing his mum’s car, Molly singing in the passenger seat. He hasn’t ever driven a car like this. What’s Harry trying to prove?

“Come on.” Harry throws the gearshift into park with a flourish, and opens his door with the engine still running.

As Harry lopes across in front of the windshield, Tom scrambles to unbuckle his seat belt. The car pings with an unnecessary reminder about the door Harry left open behind him. Tom stands up with his hand still on the latch of his own door, blocking Harry’s path as he rounds the front of the car. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I am.” Harry rests his hands on the top of the open passenger door between them and leans toward Tom. “Do it.”

His eyes are still hidden behind his sunglasses. There’s no way for Tom to tell whether this is a gift or a challenge. “What if I put it in a ditch?” The possibility seems simultaneously remote and imminent. Nothing could disrupt the perfect lines of this glossy black machine, but also Tom is the very thing that might.

Harry leans forward, pressing the door back toward Tom. Tom’s body flashes to yesterday: cool water and hot sun, Harry’s weight pressing him against the wall, Harry’s mouth on his. He swallows.

“I trust you,” Harry says. His face is inches away, inscrutable. Tom can see himself reflected in Harry’s sunglasses. The frame of the car digs into his shoulders and his calves as the door presses him back. He wants to punch forward, break the window between them, get his hands on Harry. The intensity of his want ought to shatter the glass all on its own.

He gently lets the latch go and slides out from behind the door. Without Tom’s resistance, the door lurches forward under Harry’s weight. Tom jams his forearm back into the opening just in time to stop it from closing on Harry’s fingers. “Easy,” he warns, elbowing the door toward Harry to extricate himself.

Harry takes the door from him and steps back to open it, hip-checking Tom as he passes so that Tom stumbles a step down the verge at the edge of the lane. Tom shoulders up into him, jostling Harry towards the car. His cheek connects with the sun-warmed back of Harry’s black shirt. Tom’s body sings at the contact, propelling him around the nose of the car to open the driver’s door with an assurance he doesn’t really feel.

The view’s different from the driver’s seat, disconcertingly on the wrong side of the car. He reaches for the seat controls as if he has any idea what he’s doing, moving himself forward until his foot connects securely with the gas pedal. Every inch is a reminder of Harry’s long legs. He checks the mirrors.

“Ready yet?” Harry asks, reclining back in the passenger seat.

Tom flips him off, and shifts into gear. At the tentative press of his foot, the car surges forward, faster than he expected but faultlessly smooth. He turns onto the country road and reaches automatically to flip the visor down when the evening sun hits him full in the face. The view is still searingly bright even with the worst of the sun shielded behind the visor. Tom squints and focuses on the road, second-guessing himself about which side he’s supposed to be driving on.

“Here.” A pair of sunglasses hovers in front of his face. Harry tries to push them up his nose one-handed. One of the arms pokes Tom in the cheekbone.

Tom swats his hand out, first at Harry and then at the sunglasses that Harry’s shoving into his face. “Trying to drive here.”

“Hold still,” Harry says, unperturbed. “The sun’s in your eyes, you can’t see.” The sunglasses disappear for a moment and return. This time Harry’s using both hands. The arms of the sunglasses trace past Tom’s temples and hook onto his ears.

“Because your hand’s in my face.” Tom tips his chin down to look over the tops of the sunglasses. Harry pushes them up his nose with a thumb at the bridge. The view darkens as the glasses slide into place. Harry pats him twice on the forehead.

Tom glances sideways. “Thanks.” Harry’s looking at him still, the corners of his mouth tucked up in a small pleased smile. His hair creeps toward his face without the sunglasses to pin it back.

Tom snaps his attention back to the road. He’s the one who’s inscrutable now, his expression safe behind Harry’s lenses. The shift in gears as he picks up speed is imperceptible. Every slight movement of his foot on the accelerator tells him the car’s got more power than he expects. More power than he wants. He’s not sure what it’s good for, on this narrow country road. But oh, it’s fun to drive.

Tom takes a curve a little faster than he should, just to feel the car respond. It pushes against the turn like a cat arching its spine to be petted. The sun soaks a late-summer vineyard golden on one side of the road. On the other, the valley falls gently away toward the hills in the distance.

Harry sees that he’s got his bearings. “What do you think?”

“Drives nice.” Secure behind the sunglasses, Tom tries to sound mildly, appropriately impressed. “What do you drive at home?”

“Um.” It doesn’t seem like a complicated question. “In London,” Harry starts, as if he’s collecting his thoughts. “Usually an Audi.”

“Usually?”

“I have a few?” Harry’s voice tips up at the end, like he’s uncertain. Or embarrassed. “Mostly in LA, though.”

There’s a vastness to that answer that Tom’s not sure how to probe. “What’s your favorite?”

“Jaguar,” Harry says immediately. “An E-type. I wanted one forever.”

Harry tells a rambling story about the model year, buying the car from an aging hippie in the Hollywood Hills, but Tom loses track as they reach the clustered cottages at the edge of the village. The country roads that lasted an eternity with a fussy toddler yesterday pass in a matter of minutes.

Easing off the accelerator feels like returning to solid ground, relief and disappointment at the same time. The signs of a summer town melting from day into evening are all around: dogs being walked, shops being shuttered for the night. Tom slows as they turn into the lane at the center of the village. “Where are we going?”

“Turn left.” Harry directs him around one corner and then another. The streets are narrow and cobblestoned, predating cars and not quite friendly to them. Fiats and Citroens are neatly packed into any available parking spot. Tom glances in the mirror, anticipating the dimensions. He’s not sure what would be worse, trying and failing to parallel Harry’s posh car into a tiny slot on what may or may not be the wrong side of the street, or giving up and turning the driver’s seat over to Harry.

Harry points ahead. “There, on the right.” It’s barely a car park, three spots with tufts of grass poking up between the paving stones, tucked between two brick shop fronts. Tom pulls haltingly into the only open space. Tendrils of ivy from the side of the building practically brush the car door. Gratefully, he shifts into park and cuts the engine. The blocky key fob is unbalanced in his hand when he pulls it out of the ignition.

“Nice.” Harry slaps Tom’s palm and scoops up the key. He folds the business end down with his thumb, and it disappears back into the fob with a click.

Tom opens his door cautiously, trying not to scrape the edge against the wall under the vines. Leaves brush the backs of his legs as he eases himself along the side of the car. Harry’s waiting at the front of the ivied building, at an entrance marked by a tented chalkboard on the cobblestones. The specials chalked onto it are all in French. The only word Tom recognizes is beurre.

The door to the restaurant is painted a cheery yellow. There’s a rush of sound as Harry opens it, and when Tom follows him inside, he has to remind himself that this is exactly what a restaurant is supposed to be. There aren’t even that many customers – maybe thirty, forty? -- and they’re not being unusually loud. Parents with summer-blonde children. Four women about Meredith’s age, erupting into laughter. Older couples finishing their meals. A child bent over a tablet at the end of a table full of adults. Tables pushed together in the back corner for a group of families on holiday together: dads with sunburned scalps, teenagers surreptitiously glancing at their phones under the table. Two older daughters, maybe university age, bare-shouldered in strappy sundresses and holding their wineglasses with a casual assuredness that suggests they’re French. It’s the most people Tom’s seen in two months, and the clamor of dozens of conversations trapped underneath the low beamed ceiling makes it hard to think.

“Harry!” A man in a chef’s jacket hails them from across the dining room, his voice cutting through the cacophony. He has thick-framed glasses and unruly gray hair and a general air of being in charge. He weaves through the tables toward them.

Harry shakes hands like he means it, sticking his elbow out to swing his hand into the grip with enthusiasm. Like he’s deeply excited about this particular handshake. Tom wonders if Harry’s that way about every hand he shakes. He can’t remember if he shook his hand when they met. Probably not. Tom’s hands were probably busy with Ruby.

The proprietor greets Harry in some combination of French and accented English that Tom can’t parse. And then Tom’s being presented, Harry’s hand warm and heavy on his shoulder. “This is Tom,” Harry says.

“Welcome, Harry’s friend!” The man shakes his hand enthusiastically. Tom mumbles a greeting, wondering how his own handshake compares to Harry’s. He misses the proprietor’s name when Harry introduces him.

The man points toward the back of the restaurant, past the countertop that separates the kitchen from the dining room. A pair of glass-paned doors stands ajar. “I have your table out back.” Tom can see the glint of fairy lights outside.

“Perfect.” Harry claps him on the shoulder, and they’re led through the dining room. From behind, the slight stoop of Harry’s shoulders is more noticeable. He walks like he’s keeping a secret, like standing up straight would require a burst of energy he’s conserving for something more important.

A woman in a striped apron catches sight of them as she slides a steaming plate over the kitchen counter to a server. She looks like the kitchenside counterpart to their host: same age, same enthusiasm. She waves energetically at Harry, and he presses his fingers to his mouth and flings his arm open wide to throw a kiss across the room to her. Her laugh as she turns back to the kitchen is lovingly dismissive.

The garden out back is surrounded by a stone wall thick with the same vines Tom parked the car next to. A strand of lights twines through them. The host leads them to the furthest of the three tables, tucked into the right angle of the wall. He produces menus, a wine list banded to a wooden backing, a lighted candle in a scarred red jar.

And then he leaves. The din of conversations filters out from the restaurant, and the other two tables in the garden have their own occupants. But it still feels like the most alone they’ve ever been. The farthest from anyone else’s oversight. Tom’s back is to the restaurant, and he can’t see anyone but Harry.

“Have you been here before?” The narrow folded menu sits untouched in front of Tom, laying in wait to confound him with French. He can’t think of when Harry would have eaten here. Nearly a month and Tom can’t remember him leaving the house before today.

Harry looks up from the wine list. “Scoped it out this afternoon.”

It’s a rush like Tom’s already emptied his first glass. Harry planning this. Wanting a table out back. Somewhere private. “You just met them today?”

“Came by, had a drink.” Harry shrugs. “It’s nice to eat where you know the people.”

“How did you…” Tom can’t think of the right question. Make friends? In French? Minutes after strolling into town for the first time? “They look ready to adopt you.”

“They’re really nice.” Harry seems brighter with it, lit up by this small connection. “They’ve had this place for forty years.”

“Remind me of his name?” It’s embarrassing to ask, but he wants to be part of it, to reinforce Harry’s delight in being known by the proprietors.

“Luc!” Harry turns it into a greeting as their host returns to the table.

Luc slides a small plate between them. Two small toasts, topped with a triangle of something, a swoop of sauce, and a tiny cornichon. “From Anne-Marie.”

“The chef in there,” Harry gestures back at the kitchen. “His wife.”

Harry thanks Luc - in French - and Tom smiles and mumbles some echo of Harry’s thanks. Luc asks something and gestures toward the wine list in Harry’s hand, and oh no, it begins. Harry holds the list out to Tom. “Do you want wine?”

Tom doesn’t take the board from Harry, or even bother to look at it. It’s not like he can make sense of a French wine list any more than an English one. “Sure.”

Harry pulls the wine list back to his side of the table. “Red or white?”

“Either’s all right.” Harry looks ready to ask him another question and Tom cuts in before it turns into an embarrassing display of how little he knows about wine. “I’ve got no idea, I’ll drink whatever’s being poured.”

“All right, that’s easy,” Harry says, as if Tom’s position is convenient rather than ignorant. He identifies something in French, pointing to the menu. Luc approves. Tom’s able to get the gist of the response: he’ll be back with the wine, and to take their order.

Tom opens the menu gingerly, like it’s a mousetrap that might take off his fingers. At first, he’s relieved: French menu words are apparently portable enough that it’s not so hard to get a general idea of what each entrée might be. Poisson. Cassoulet. Haricots verts. The bigger problem is finding something he can pronounce without sounding like a complete idiot when it’s time to order.

Luc returns with a bottle of wine in one hand and two small wine glasses in the other. He adds a glass to each of their place settings, produces a wine key from his apron pocket, and deftly uncorks the bottle. Tom resolves yet again to master the skill someday. He’s watched Ben open scores of bottles of wine this summer with a casual competence that’s devastatingly hot. He’ll have to practice, once he can afford the kind of wine that comes with a cork.

Luc pours a splash into Harry’s wineglass - not a full pour, just a mouthful - and lifts the bottle expectantly. Harry picks up the glass and takes a sip. His lips purse to one side, then the other. “It’s good,” he says, with a thumbs-up to Luc, and Luc tops off Harry’s class and pours for Tom. It’s like watching Harry arrange and light the candles in Ben and Meri’s bedroom - an unfamiliar ritual, one that has meaning to someone else but not to Tom.

Tom relaxes once it’s clear that the ritual doesn’t require his participation. In fact, everything’s easier once the wine’s poured and the hurdle of ordering is past. (“The pasta?” Tom says, fairly certain that there was a recognizable pasta on the menu, and Luc enthusiastically confirms.)

Luc ties a napkin around the wine bottle and leaves it at the table, and Harry lifts his glass. “To... getting out of the house?” he says, his voice lifting in a question, as if he’s looking for Tom’s assent.

“To getting out of the house,” Tom echoes, fugitive and free. The clink of their small sturdy glasses seals the deal, audibly different from the throaty chime of the big red wine glasses at the summer house.

He really, truly has Harry to himself, without Ruby’s needs to interrupt them, without Ben and Meri to please. It’s just talking to Harry now, and it’s easy, like it used to be when it was the two of them on the lawn with Ruby, fitting in scraps of conversation while they let her pour them pretend tea. Harry’s funny, and thoughtful, and his answers are meandering, as if he starts talking without entirely knowing where he’s going to end up. His deliberate pace gives Tom enough space to think, so he never feels like he’s struggling to keep up.

“Did you take French in school?” Tom asks, after Luc delivers a basket with a baguette wrapped in a blue and white tea towel, prompting another exchange with Harry that’s part English, part French, part gestures.

“A little.” Harry separates a slice from the baguette. “But… a while ago. Too long to remember.” I stopped going when I was sixteen.”

“Really? Why?”

Harry brushes the spray of breadcrumbs to the edge of the table. “That’s when the band started. I finished up with tutors after that, so I never had to do a language.” He tears the slice of baguette over his bread plate and pops half of it in his mouth.

“So how do you…” Tom gestures back at the restaurant, toward Harry’s pals.

“Eh.” Harry chews and swallows the bite of bread. “Interviews and shows here, and we’d go out in the evenings when I was here for the film.” Harry’s mouth could carry on a whole conversation without any sound, twisting from one side to the other, corners turning up or exaggeratedly down. The tiny wine glass is dwarfed by his hand. Tom imagines a different world, one where he’d be noticing all of this for the first time, here, on a perfectly normal first date. He knows far too much about Harry’s mouth and hands for this to be a normal date. Or a date at all, really, no matter what it feels like. “You pick up phrases here and there,” Harry finishes. His rings clank against the glass when he sets it down.

“From your French ex?” It’s impossible to think about Harry picking up French phrases without wondering about a French girl murmuring them in his ear.

Harry’s mouth quirks to one side, and he wrinkles his nose. “A little bit, I guess.”

Tom can’t stop himself from the questions he’d be asking if this was a date. A normal date where you get to know someone and try to figure out what their baggage is, whether there are any buried landmines you could blow yourself up on. “How long ago did you break up?”

Harry has to think about it. “Couple of months,” he says slowly, slow enough that Tom knows there’s more coming. “But it feels like longer. I was on tour all spring, so we were mostly long-distance.” Harry grimaces. “It didn’t work very well.”

Tom’s trying to formulate a follow-up question that will keep Harry talking, but Harry beats him to the punch. “When was your last relationship?” he asks, looking a little smug at turning the topic back around at Tom.

It’s startling to have Harry looking at him expectantly, waiting for the answer to a question like that. But he asked. He wants to know. Or he would, if this was a date. It’s getting harder to tell himself it’s not. “A year or so, I guess?” It’s hard to account for the passage of time in the outside world. “We graduated, he moved abroad for work.”

“Didn’t even try distance?”

“Nah. It was never going to be…” Tom trails off. Nicholas’s chief attributes – a smooth confidence right at the edge of dickishness, and being a head taller than Tom – were not the stuff of long-term relationships. It was a fun three months. He can’t remember if he’s texted him since Nicholas moved to New York.

Harry’s tilting his head just a bit to the side and watching Tom in a way that feels like he’s listening hard enough to hear everything Tom’s saying and some things he’s not. It’s unnerving. Tom deflects back to Harry instead of finishing his answer. If the door’s open, he’s going to ask about all the things they’d never talk about while hanging out with Ruby. “Have you ever been in a relationship with anyone who’s not a girl?”

“Eh.” Harry wavers his hand back and forth. His fingers are spread awkwardly wide around his rings. “Sort of.”

Tom’s pulse pounds in his ears. He rolls the hem of his napkin between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it into a tight point. “Sort of a relationship, or sort of not a girl?”

“Sort of a relationship.” Harry laughs like it’s not funny. “Definitely not a girl.” The way he draws out definitely creates a broad-shouldered strong-jawed kind of a picture.

“Why sort of a relationship?”

“I thought it was one, turns out he didn’t.” Harry reaches for the breadbasket and tears off the heel of the baguette with a sharp twist.

“We’ve all been there.” Tom inclines his wineglass toward Harry in a toast of sorts. “Straight guy?”

“Not too straight for me to suck his dick.” Harry smirks, but he sounds more bitter about this asshole than he does about the French girl.

“Too straight for breakfast in the morning?”

“Strangely, no.” The corner of Harry’s mouth quirks up at some remembered breakfast, and Tom wants to punch this guy. He’s not sure if it’s on Harry’s behalf or his own. “But definitely too straight to date me.”

“That put you off guys forever?” Tom tries to ask it offhandedly, leaning back in his seat, as if the answer doesn’t matter. As if it’s a casual thing to ask the guy he’s possibly on a date with if he dates guys.

“No,” Harry says, looking at Tom with an intensity Tom can’t escape, like he knows exactly how casual the question wasn’t. His voice is slow and low. “No, it didn’t.”

“Well,” Tom says, “good.” He takes a sip of wine, which turns into a gulp, because he can’t just keep looking at Harry, not when Harry’s looking at him like that. It’s like staring too long at the track of the setting sun on the sea - dazzling, disorienting.

“Yeah?” Harry asks, a note in his voice that’s pleased, maybe even hopeful.

Tom has to look at him then, beautiful and blinding, making sunspots dance in front of his eyes. “Yeah, good.” It could plausibly be an endorsement of the general concept of dating guys, a concept that Tom is broadly in favor of. But it feels a lot more specific.

Luc picks that moment to deliver their dinner. The freighted moment is buried under steaming plates and shuffling silverware and inquiries about whether there’s anything else they need. Tom asks what Harry’s having, and Harry shares a forkful of his fish and steals a bite of Tom’s pasta, and the dinner conversation settles back into places less dangerous and thrilling.

Harry asks him about his thesis, and Tom tries to explain his graduate program to someone who has no concept of university. “When’s term start?” Harry asks.

“A week after we get back. I was supposed to go out to Croyde with my sister for a few days first, to surf.” He needs to talk to Molly about that. With an uncomfortable twinge of guilt, he remembers that he hasn’t talked to her all summer.

“Yeah?” Harry’s using his fork to separate his fish from its skin, a little bit at a time. “I’ve only ever surfed in California.”

Somehow it’s no surprise that Harry surfs. “Are you any good at it?”

“Terrible. Absolutely terrible.” Harry’s talking differently tonight, Tom realizes. He’s missing his usual loose-limbed big gestures, punctuating jokes with jerky swoops of his arms. But his hands are still constantly in motion, hovering in front of him, index finger jabbing to make a point, gestures weighted with his rings. “It’s hard there, though. Rough. You get pretty beat up.”

“Do you have a house there?”

“Eh,” Harry pauses. “Sort of.”

Tom snorts. “Sort of a house? Is that like sort of dating?”

Harry’s eyes widen a bit, like the joke hit too close to home. “I have the house… I have some stuff there… it just never really felt like I moved in. I usually stay with friends. Sometimes Ben and Meredith. I was staying with my girlfriend a lot, but…” Harry shrugs and takes a sip of wine.

Tom watches his lips against the wineglass and casts about for a change in subject. The reference to the Winstons reminds him. “What’s your and Ben’s show about?”

“It’s only sort of mine,” Harry says, and Tom can’t help laughing. Harry waves him off as soon as he realizes. “All right, all right, I get it,” and Tom laughs again. “But Ben and James put it together, mostly,” Harry says. “James Corden.”

Tom nods. It’s strange to think of Harry working with famous people. Ben must, with the kind of work that he does. Harry must, too.

“It’s kind of based on when I lived with Ben and Meredith.” Harry rubs his thumb and forefinger over the thick stem of his wineglass. “But, like, not really. Just, sort of, loosely inspired. Popstar moves in with regular married couple…” Harry waves his hand in an etcetera kind of way.

Tom snorts. “So it’s X-rated, then?”

That shocks a laugh out of Harry. “God, no.” He presses his face into the palm of his hand and then looks back up at Tom, offended. “I was, like, a kid.”

A stray branch from the top of the wall is arched above Harry’s head. The Winstons feel far away from their birds nest here in the corner of the garden, snug between stone walls. “When, then?”

The candlelight catches on Harry’s rings as he reaches for his wineglass. “A while ago,” he says. “Like three years, maybe four? But, like, all before Ruby.” He doesn’t take a sip, just draws the glass closer on the tabletop and traces the tip of his finger in a half-circle around the base of the stem. “I was jealous of you, when I got here.”

“Yeah, sure,” Tom says easily. There’s no reason for Harry, rich and good-looking and favored, to be jealous of Tom. But when he thinks back to the week Harry arrived, it was a different Harry. Strutting around the pool, smug and mocking him from the dais of the master bed. Tom had all but forgotten the Harry who found Tom’s sore spot and poked at it, throwing his insecurities about the murky line between his job and his sex life in his face. He wonders whether it was unintentional, or whether Harry saw him that clearly from the start. But the question seems academic. He trusts the Harry he knows now - Harry insisting he drive, Harry towing Ruby around the pool, Harry sprawling on the couch for a romcom - not to do it again.

“No, I was.” Harry drags his finger slowly back and forth in a crescent along the base of the wineglass. “It had been... a while, and I thought they were just like, past it. Because of the baby or whatever. But then, it was kind of like, oh, obviously, they weren’t.”

How… Tom wants to ask, but he can’t quite get the question past his lips. How Harry knew. Whether Tom was painfully, embarrassingly obvious. Or whether Harry had to be told. The thought of the three of them discussing it, talking about him, makes him want to sink through his chair into the garden pavers. Welcome, Harry, glad you could visit. By the way, we’re sleeping with the au pair.

“But it all worked out, right?” Harry's voice brightens, exaggerated, and he waggles his hands out to both sides, like he’s just pulled off a magic trick. Ta-dah.

His smile’s big enough, bright enough, that Tom stops looking for the hidden trapdoor, the trick mirror, the scarf hidden up his sleeve. “Maybe it did.” Harry’s smiling back at him over the wine bottle and the empty breadbasket and the bud vase with its sprig of yellow flowers, and maybe it’s as easy as Harry makes it out to be. Maybe it all worked out.

Harry slides one foot forward under the table. “How did it happen?” Tom can feel the moment of connection when Harry rests his foot against the side of his boot, but he can’t tell through the sturdy leather whether Harry keeps it there. “With you, I mean. How did it, like, start?”

“I don’t know,” Tom says automatically. “How does anything happen?” It’s a lie. He remembers every single moment, every small smile of Meredith’s, every touch of Ben’s hand on his shoulder, each incremental stretch of the rubber band pulled tighter and tighter until the satisfying snap.

Lingering in the kitchen after dinner, leaning just a bit too hard against Ben’s side. Bracing his hands against the countertop and tipping his head back against Ben’s shoulder as Ben brought him off. Closing his eyes against the intensity of Meredith’s oversight, chin propped on her palm across the island.

Ben had kissed him after, firm and confident, sliding his tongue into Tom’s mouth, prolonging the shivery reverberations still thrumming through Tom’s body. Meredith brushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed his temple and told him they’d see him in the morning. Then she and Ben disappeared upstairs, leaving Tom confused and desperate and elated. He’d wanted to do something, to be of use. He hadn’t actually understood until the other night, when he and Harry were kicked out of the bedroom, what they were using him for.

Harry’s looking at him expectantly. Tom gives him an honest answer, but probably not the spicy answer Harry really wants. “We were dancing.”

“Dancing?”

“I did ballroom and Latin back in school. Like, competitions.” He was a national champion, not that Harry needs to know.

Harry cocks his head to the side and looks at him consideringly. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Why?” It’s Tom’s most surprising thing, really, the ace that always makes everyone else drink when they’re playing two truths and a lie. I’m afraid of balloons, I’ve never broken a bone, I’m a champion ballroom dancer. Everyone always assumes that’s the lie. He can mix it up after this summer, though. He’s got some more unlikely truths now.

“You walk like a dancer, like… how you move.” Harry circles his wrist aimlessly, his fingers spread open, as if the explanation is a bird that will light in his upturned palm if he’s patient. “It’s like… you’ve always got everything under control.”

Tom laughs, startled. “I can’t believe you think that. I don’t have anything under control.”

“Yes you do.” Harry leans back in his chair and stretches his legs out, hooking his foot around Tom’s ankle. “You always know what to do with Ruby. Ben and Meredith love you.” Harry tilts his head forward in a way that makes Tom feel more intensely examined, like Harry’s turned up the focus. “I can’t ever tell what you’re thinking. That’s control.” His voice gets lower, slower on the last syllables. Tom watches his lips move around the words.

He flushes at the thought of Harry observing him, forming opinions, liking the way he moves, wondering what he’s thinking. “I don’t have anything about you under control,” he says, and realizes too late it sounds more like a confession than a statement of fact.

He watches Harry carefully for a reaction. His mouth is so big that Tom can see the smile spreading over it, like watching a sunrise. The corners turning up, dimples blooming. “Yeah?”

There’s probably a joke that could water it down. An explanation that he meant Harry’s a force of nature completely outside the realm of Tom’s influence, not that Tom can’t control the dizzying intensity of the way he feels about Harry. Tom doesn’t take the out. “Yeah,” he acknowledges, face burning and Harry’s smile seeping through his veins like a serum.

The moment’s broken by Luc’s arrival, clearing their plates and asking how the meal was. “Wonderful,” Harry says, very seriously. “Thank you.” He looks as if he’d shake hands again, if their plates weren’t in the way.

Their host returns a moment later and holds out a small square menu to each of them. Harry pauses before taking it, looking at Tom. “Do you want dessert?”

Tom hasn’t had dessert all summer. The entire genre doesn’t exist in the Winstons’ diet. He hadn’t thought to miss it. He could take it or leave it tonight. No, he’s about to say, and maybe even take me home, because he’s far more greedy for that than he is for tarte tatin. But going home with Harry still means going home, where the sound of Harry’s tires in the driveway will mean something to someone else. Where Tom will follow Harry into the main house, or Harry will follow him up the carriage house stairs, and either way someone else will know. As long as they’re here, tucked in their quiet corner of the garden as the evening fades to twilight, Harry only belongs to him.

“Sure,” Tom says, and orders creme brulee. Harry asks about the sorbet on the menu, and after a spirited discussion with Luc that doesn’t seem to result in much additional information about the two flavors, orders them both.

Of course Harry wants it all, wants everything at once, flings himself at it without a second thought. His perpetual too-muchness is the thing that’s most compelling to Tom, who can’t imagine being too much because he’s always trying to be just right. It’s all backwards that Tom saw it first in bed - Harry unselfconsciously sensation-seeking, wanting everything, pulling everyone with him, needing to be overwhelmed - and only now is he seeing it applied to something as prosaic as ice cream. But that doesn’t mean he can’t give Harry a hard time. “Is it that hard to choose?”

“Fuck off,” Harry says, cheerfully. “I love ice cream, I’ve barely had it this summer. Meredith doesn’t eat it.”

“What’s your favorite flavor?” Tom asks, and they’re still on the subject when dessert arrives, Tom defending simplicity and Harry enthusing about flavors of ice cream that Tom’s never even conceived of.

Harry’s trying to explain something called chocolate honeycomb when it happens. His eyes flick away from Tom, midsentence, catching on something over Tom’s right shoulder.

Tom waits silently, willing Harry’s attention back to him. He refuses to look. He’s not going to dignify this distraction by looking at it. He’s only going to project waves of hatred directly from his shoulder blades.

“Sorry.” Harry focuses back on him.

“Um…” Tom can’t remember what Harry was saying. As he tries to reorient himself, Harry looks away again, toward the back of the restaurant. “What’s…”

“Don’t turn around.” Harry says it casually, but Tom freezes all the same, as if Harry’s only going to give him back his attention if he’s good enough. Harry’s expression hardens into a stare, the intensity like a bullet directed straight over Tom’s shoulder. He shakes his head slowly from side to side, just once. Telling somebody no.

“What’s going on?” Tom’s neck is tense with the effort of not looking at whatever is drawing Harry’s displeasure.

“It’s not a big deal,” Harry says, but his shoulders are pulled up and in. “Somebody recognized me.”

“Someone you know?” Tom wonders who Harry could possibly know here, but apparently this afternoon was enough time for him to become the adopted son of a French restaurant. He could have made any number of other friends. Or not friends, based on his reaction.

“No.” Harry’s fishing in his pocket. “Did you see those girls, inside? Two of them.”

“I think so?” Tom vaguely remembers the big table, the holiday families, the girls in sundresses and glossy ponytails.

“They were trying to take a picture just now.”

“Of what?” The garden’s not that picturesque. He and Harry aren’t that interesting; to anyone not inside Tom’s head, they probably just look like two guys having dinner. Tom’s stomach tightens, his ever-present instinct for hostility kicking in. The heightened awareness that picks up on the bellow of “you cocksucker!” from across the pub and leaves him wondering whether the thick-necked guys in the booth are insulting each other, or whether it means Tom’s sitting too close to his boyfriend on their barstools. Whether the shoulder check in the crowd transferring trains was accidental or whether it had something to do with the rainbow flag pin on his bag.

“Me.” Harry says it matter-of-factly, like this is just the course of things.

Tom gapes. He wonders why Luc and Anne-Marie aren’t stopping this, but that seems rude to ask.

Harry shrugs. “It happens.” He takes his hand out of his pocket with thumb tucked under his fingers, concealing something. “Although I would have preferred not tonight.” He cups his palm on the tablecloth and slides it across to Tom, stopping at the tip of Tom’s unused salad fork. When it’s safely in Tom’s space, blocked by his body from view of anyone inside the restaurant, Harry lifts his fingers to reveal the black block of the car key. “I’m going to go take care of it. If you don’t want to… you know...” Harry makes a gesture that Tom can’t quite make sense of. Maybe it means you don’t want to deal with this. “You can meet me at the car.”

Harry cocks his head a bit to the left, and flicks his eyes in the same direction. Tom follows and sees a narrow wooden gate leading out to the alleyway behind the restaurant. Harry nudges the car key further toward Tom with a fingertip, clinking it against the tines of his fork. “I’ll get them inside.”

Harry’s chair screeches against the paving stones, and then there’s nothing left of him but the last melty bits of sorbet in their dish. Tom stares at the empty space and the garden wall behind it.

He can hear when Harry reaches the girls. “Hello,” he says, gravelly and plain, like that’s a reasonable way to greet someone taking photos of you at a restaurant. “I’m Harry.” There’s a noise in response - wordless, high-pitched - and Tom shoves his chair back and grabs the car key.

The garden gate has a funny latch. Tom fumbles and slaps at it and a moment later he’s alone with the bins in the narrow space between the buildings. It’s fully nighttime back here, unmitigated by the fairy lights and candles of the garden. He slumps back against the wall to get his bearings. He was almost on a date. No, not almost, not by the end of it, not with Harry hooking his ankle around Tom’s as his smile bloomed in the candlelight. It felt like a good date, like a date that could go somewhere. And now he’s hiding in an alley, banished to sit in the car like a child.

Tom picks his way to the end of the alley and circles back around to the car, passing closed storefronts. There are planting baskets hanging from the lamp posts along the street. Droplets from under the pink and red flowers spatter on the cobblestones, as if someone’s recently been through for an evening watering, but the street is empty.

The car blinks its tail lights at him as Tom approaches, before he even looks at the buttons on the key fob, but the door handle on the passenger side won’t yield to him. He’s not going to take the driver’s seat. He doesn’t understand what’s going on, and the last thing he needs is to be in charge of the car. He stabs mindlessly at the unlock button and wrenches at the handle, letting his efforts cancel each other out until he takes a breath and lets the door go long enough for the lock to work.

The passenger seat’s still dropped back the way that Harry set it, a languor that’s entirely inconsistent with Tom’s mood. He sits up and jams his thumb against the lever beside the seat until it rises up to meet his rigid spine. The car key’s still smooth in his palm, like a river stone begging to be skipped. He presses the button at the corner and flicks the key out, snaps it back into place, again and again until Harry rustles through the ivy and opens the driver’s door.

“Sorry about that.” Harry sits and then swings his long legs into the seat through the narrow opening.

Tom holds the car key out to him.

“I had to…” Harry backs out of the parking space, smooth and quick, offering an explanation Tom hadn’t yet asked for. “Usually if you ask people… they’re pretty cool about it, if you ask them not to post anything, or at least they’ll wait a few days.”

Tom remembers Meredith’s warning about social media and understands now that it wasn’t just about privacy. In a few days Harry will be gone, off to Italy, or wherever. It won’t matter if anyone posts a picture of him in a French bistro, because he’ll be in Italy, or LA, or something. Somewhere far from Tom.

He pictures Harry talking to the girls, to their parents maybe, trying to convince them to keep his secret. “Does that happen to you a lot?”

“Sometimes.” Harry accelerates as they leave the village behind. The engine responds like it’s eager for the challenge, humming through the gears, smooth and powerful. Soon there’s nothing but their headlights and the road dipping in front of them.

There’s something Harry’s not saying. He’s distant, and Tom’s resentful and confused, and the evening’s ruined. Tom’s used to Harry’s silences. Usually they’re expectant, like he’s waiting for Tom to say something. That’s not how this one feels. Harry’s focused somewhere else entirely, or inside his own head.

Tom presses his cheek against the window. There’s a half moon making its way up over the hills. It’s golden, promising autumn. The same color as the creme brulee. The spray of stars around it seems chilly.

“Hey,’ Harry says, as they turn into the lane toward the house. “I don’t know if you’re on Instagram or whatever.” The hedge looms in front of them, lit up by the headlights. Gravel crunches as Harry pulls into the circle drive. “But you might want to go on private for a little while. Instagram, Twitter, whatever.”

“Okay,” Tom says cautiously. “Um. Why?”

Harry kills the engine. “If they post pictures, and anybody knows who you are…” The car’s lights go dark in front of them and the house winks out of view, shrunk to the small circle of the front porch light. “It can get a little weird, is all.”

“Weird like how?” Harry’s profile is shadowed next to him, lit from the front porch so Tom can’t see his face.

“Just… a lot of comments. People messaging you.” Tom doesn’t have to see Harry’s face to know there’s still something he’s not saying.

He undoes his seat belt and opens the car door. “Thanks for…” Suddenly Tom realizes he completely missed the tab when Harry shuffled him off down the alley. “Shit, did you pay for dinner? Let me give you some cash.” He fumbles for his wallet, even as he realizes it’s futile, he has no cash, has had no reason to carry any cash at all this summer.

“No, I got it.” Harry touches his arm.

Tom flinches without meaning to. Harry’s fingertips raise goosebumps up and down his arm, but Tom can’t get past the contrast between the warmth of their dinner and the reserve of the drive home. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” Harry drops his hand to his lap. “I had a nice time.” It’s polite, formal, a world away from Harry’s smile across the table and the pressure of his foot against Tom’s ankle. Harry’s not going to kiss him, and the obviousness of that fact fills the car, forcing all the air out of the small space.

“I did too.” Tom heaves himself out of the door. “Thank you.”

He looks back before he lets himself into the sanctuary of the carriage house. Harry’s still sitting in the car. Tom can’t imagine what he’s thinking about.

He slumps back against the door after it closes behind him and lets the wild swing of emotions catch up with him. How, how did this evening get so fucked up. He trudges up the stairs. It’s not late, but he’s exhausted.

At the desk, he shoves aside a stack of photocopied sources and peels the sticky note with his most recent thesis to-do list off the screen of his laptop. Once the aging operating system comes to life, he opens his Instagram for the first time all summer. The photo at the top corner of his grid is from May, the day he and Carl cobbled together some packed lunches from the odds and ends in their fridge and drove out to Brighton. The selfie shows the wind off the sea blowing their hair to one side, chilly spring sunshine pale on their faces. There’s a new comment from Carl underneath it, a couple of weeks old. last known picture of tommy before his disappearance, rip.

Tom clicks quickly into his settings to get away from the post. He can’t deal with the guilt on top of everything else tonight. He ticks the box to set his account to private, and then hovers the cursor over the search box. Fuck it. harry, he types, and before he can get to the s the drop-down’s already offering him two different blue checks in Harry's name. For fuck’s sake. How is he the first Harry to come up? There’s a fucking prince.

Tom whistles at the follower count before scrolling down the page in Harry’s name. It’s impersonal, all professional-looking photos of Harry onstage and backstage. But aside from his bright costume-y suits, Tom recognizes all of it: the expansive way Harry flings his arms around, the unselfconscious lines of his body. His smiles, small and smug or wide and beaming. Harry shoving clothes into the same luggage Tom’s seen on the floor of his room.

All of it feels like the Harry he knows, until further down the page the camera pulls back to show Harry onstage, spotlit, the focal point of an entire arena filled with lights. Tom zooms in and blinks at it a few times, unsure if he’s seeing it right. It’s disorienting, like the time he opened the door to what he thought was the closet in Ruby’s nursery in London and it turned out to be an entire bathroom practically the size of his flat.

He backs out and keeps scrolling down. More arenas, more crowds, more of the dizzying telescoping of Tom’s sense of scale, until he screeches to a halt at Harry on the cover of Rolling fucking Stone? After opening the post to make sure it’s not a joke, Tom abandons Instagram and types harry styles rolling stone into the search bar.

Instead of a fancy bathroom, it’s like he’s opened the closet door and found Narnia. One Direction, for fuck’s sake. Tom’s pretty sure Molly had their posters on her bedroom wall years ago. Somebody should have told him. Meredith should have warned him. Harry should have warned him. Tom’s mad, all of a sudden, about every story Harry’s told him about traveling. He’ll talk about the pasta he ate in Milan, the art museum he went to in Spain, the funny name of the soda backstage in Japan, and none of it’s given Tom any sense that the reason Harry’s been all over the place is that he has millions and millions of fans. Who will, apparently, sell his puke on eBay. Tom’s been wasting a revenue stream. Bet he could have gotten top dollar for the bodily fluid he’s had access to this summer.

Tom stands up and flexes his palms against the edge of the desk. Bent over the laptop, braced as if it might punch him, he keeps reading. Harry’s first album, Harry’s new band, Harry driving around Los Angeles in a Range Rover. He remembers Harry deflecting his question about what he drives at home. I have more than one. He should have asked. Maybe he would have learned enough to keep his guard up, not to get deluded by a candlelit dinner and a smile that felt like it was just for him.

The punch comes from an unexpected quarter. “Family,” answers Ben Winston. Tom jerks upright as if he’s been caught. He hadn’t thought googling Harry would lead him to Ben, but how naive that was. Of course they have a whole relationship in the outside world. One that Rolling Stone interviews them about, for fuck’s sake. Tom reads on, stomach quivering, as Ben brags about Harry moving into his attic, talks about Meredith, how they’d be in bed waiting for Harry to come home. All the girls Harry would bring with him.

Oh.

He’d thought he was pressing his luck tonight, asking Harry about his past relationships, ferreting out hopeful crumbs about his sexuality. What poverty of imagination. They’d even talked about his past with Ben and Meredith, and Tom never thought to put two and two together. Quite literally. What an idiot, to think he’s been the only one.

Tom abandons Rolling Stone, which doesn’t know shit, and searches harry styles girlfriend. The top result is the most recent, a tabloid headline. Model Camille Rowe and Harry Styles split after just over a year together. Ah. The French ex-girlfriend. Tom opens a new tab, leaving behind search results that promised a longer history of supermodels. The results of his camille rowe image search are all blonde hair and tanned skin and many more pictures of tits than Tom might have expected without intentionally searching for porn. He can acknowledge, objectively and painfully, that they are very nice tits. He wonders what Meredith thought. He wonders how it worked. Whether she went down on Meredith, what Meredith allowed Ben to do to her.

Fuck it. He switches to harry styles boyfriend. There’s more in the image search than Tom would have expected. He rejects Nick Grimshaw, who’s definitely gay enough to have a boyfriend. He spends a while on Louis Tomlinson, but the sources are too weird, the images too blurry and doctored, the rhetoric too strident. Something about it feels off.

But there it is, well down the page. Harry and a guy hunched over their menus at a restaurant. Casual, like it’s brunch. Harry’s got long hair, but his sunglasses are pinning it back same as ever. Tom makes a mental note to follow up on the long hair after the extensive google search he’s about to conduct on Xander “definitely not a girl” Ritz.

Half an hour later Tom’s got a better idea of why Harry banished him to the car and told him to private his insta. He snaps the lid of his laptop shut, burying tumblr timelines and paparazzi pics and Harry flirting with his straight guy crush in front of entire goddamned stadiums of fans. None of it matters.

He unlaces his boots and throws them halfheartedly toward the corner of the room. One of them leaves a scuff mark against the creamy walls but Tom can’t bring himself to care. The security deposit isn’t his.

He brushes his teeth without looking in the mirror and turns out the lights without slitting the blinds to see if Harry’s still in his car. In bed, he curls on his side with the duvet up to his ear and tries to calm down, to talk some sense into himself.

He’s sealed himself in the idyllic bubble of the summer so effectively, resolutely refusing to think about what his life will be like once the summer’s over. The summer house has been his world, small and complete and perfect. Harry disrupted it, until he was absorbed into it, and Tom’s forgotten that Harry exists outside the bubble too. He’s understood only generally that Harry’s rich like the Winstons are rich, and that Harry’s a musician. Here, where there’s nothing to spend money on, he’s had no reason to connect the dots, to realize that if Harry’s money comes from music, Harry must be a big deal. The kind of big deal who gets stalked at restaurants. The kind of big deal that dates supermodels. There’s an entire world of Harry out there, an entire world that Harry and Ben fit into together, and Tom was crazy to ever think he had a place in it.

#french countryside tomrry

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