#grace has been quietly sneaking in the complete opposite direction to what i expected in the background

[capn-twitchery]

been trying to figure out who grace should be closest to after cutting off ties with constables and running off with twitch sometime in the future and i can't believe i didn't think of revolutionaries. oh my god. duh.

of course that's where you go when you realise you hate the system and wanna work to fix it!!!

[dreamieofu]

Yours

pairing: mark x [f] reader   word count: 4.7k genre: strangers to lovers!au, college!au, smut, sexual themes, so much fluff.  summary: Mark is a familiar face, and one night when he asks you to hang out. warning(s): a lot of flirting, slight alcohol consumption, a small bar fight, a lot of kissing, protected sex, slight cockwarming, slight fingering, slight dry humping, tell me.. if there’s more this is my first time writing smut lol.

That’s the thing about love.

It’s unexpected. And this story is short, intense but plays like a record in the back of your head.

He was once someone you’d walk by, a distant stranger. You notice him in the corner of your eye, sitting at the cafeteria. Along with one of your classmates. It seemed to be that way, seeing him at the corner of your eye, around the shop nearest to your dorm. Catching him walk by you, on his way to class.  

A familiar face.

You didn’t think much of it, until you started seeing him more often; curiosity swirling in your mind, each time you’d find yourself looking his way.

Maybe it was his smile, or maybe the way he’d have his hands in his pockets. His stand, as he talks with friends. He was a familiar face, with no name attached to his small loop-sided smile.

It was that one night, near the steps at the front of the dormitory, you see him socialising with your classmate. At first you wanted to greet your classmate with your best friend, Renjun, but the way the boy would smile with his eyes, shots an arrow through your heart.   “Hey,” You gleam, walking towards them. Slightly peering over at him, soaking up the image of him and his hair. The way he stood there, cosy in a grey hoodie and khaki pants. You’d be lying to yourself to say you didn’t walk over in hopes of getting to know him. Your own personal mystery boy. While you introduce yourself, you also don’t fail to notice how much more endearing he was up close. Doe eyes, and a small mole on his cheek, your eyes trailing to find identical ones on the left side of his neck. He speaks, while a small smile creeps up on your cheeks, finally hearing a name for your mystery boy.   “Well, I’m Mark,”.

And just like that, you found yourself in an already blossoming love for him.

You exchanged numbers the night you learnt his name. Slowly, your both grew closer. Mark would go opposite the dorms on most days, hanging out with his friends, drinking beers and dancing around with them. You could see him below from your window, in a not so creepy way. Just admiring the way he laughed with them, and how he’d dance completely immersed in his element.   You send him a message. [6:30pm] I can see you from my window…

You hiccup a small giggle watching Mark instantly look up. His eyes searching for you mindlessly. This time Mark was sat at one of the tables nearby, his phone in his hands, hidden under the table slightly away from his friend, Donghyuck. Even from afar, you see a smile curve his left lip.

Mark [6:31pm] oh yeah? I can’t see you though.

He looks back up from his phone, trying not to be obvious to Donghyuck, that he’s looking for someone. Looking for you.

You exchange a few texts, whilst you watch him from your window. It was fun, the way he would message you from below. The way he would look up to the windows, almost as if he was looking right at you, yet not knowing where you were at all. You move away from your window sighing.   “He’s so cute…” sounding almost exasperated, Renjun chuckles at your words throwing a pillow at you from where he’s sat. You roll your eyes, moving the pillow onto your bed as you sink back into your position. You look out the window again, ignoring Renjun’s laughter.   “It’s obvious that you’re both flirting with each other,” Renjun explains, walking over to your bed which was right next to the window. He looms over the edge of your bed standing in front of your window to look down. He’s quick to find Mark. “I mean, he is cute. Look at him sitting there,” He laughs again, his tone slightly teasing you.   “I know! I’ve been looking at him for too long.” You turn you head at Renjun then back, returning to the window to sneak another glance at Mark.

“Why won’t you make a move? You never know, he could think the same thing about you.” Renjun’s suggestion is tempting, but you’re not very vocal about feelings. Especially if it’s romantical ones for boys you barely know.

But that was as far as you got. Small flirtatious interactions, but never anything like a date. You didn’t have many opportunities to be with him alone, too caught up with other friends. But one day, going home after a day of class, you bump into him and he’s alone.   “Mark!” You call out, with a big smile. You see him turn his head, catching your eyes. His face warms up watching you approach him, looking soft and returning your smile. But just as you get a step close to him, Mark engulfs you in a hug.

The hug was nothing you were expecting, he smells something almost like watermelon candy and it whiffs over you, filling your senses.  Mark’s chest is broader than you imagined, and his arms hold you tight. One of his hands around your middle back, and the other was gently placed at the back of your head bringing you close. His embrace lasted a second too long, before he pulls back, the same loop-sided smile holding his high cheeks. You feel like your heart was being nailed down against your chest, by how hard it was beating. Mark whispers a small “Hey,”.

You feel a little lost in his eyes as you reply, “How was your day?” And Mark smiles even wider at your question.   “Better now that I’ve seen you,” The thing is, Mark knew he was being direct with his flirting. Hoping you’d pick up, and in some ways you did. Mark notices you, probably the same way you have all along. Mark is forward, but in some sense socially awkward. However, when he finds himself in contact with you, things just flow. He doesn’t mind making the obvious vocal, he’s made comments about how he finds you cute. And each time, you don’t believe him. Throwing his words over your shoulder with a scoff and a nervous laugh. He likes the reactions he gets out of you, likes the way you’re nervous under his presence. “I’m going to hang out with Donghyuck later tonight for a drink. Wanna join?”   You radiate heat, both from the close proximity and his proposal. The tension between you two feels a little too much, and you swear his eyes are glistening. He looks pretty today. “I guess I’m free.” You agree.   “Cool, I’ll see you at the bar opposite around 8pm?” You nod at his words.

The time between this moment and 8pm stretched until you find yourself in your room sulking to Renjun.   “I can’t believe he asked me out!” You end your sentence with a whisper scream. Renjun was laid on your bed, on top of your covers one hand holding his head up as he looks at you bored whilst you finish your monologue.   “Well, he was bound to. I don’t know why you’re acting so surprised.” He rolls his eyes at you playfully. “As if you weren’t flirting in all the texts you send each other.”   “That’s not true!” Trying to deny all the times Mark’s messages wouldn’t fail to put a small smile on your face. Renjun says silent with a smug look.  “Okay, fine… We flirt a little… So what? I can’t flirt?” You fight back your past thoughts, knowing Renjun’s quick to call you out anyway.   You push yourself up from your desk, walking towards a full body length mirror. You look at your appearance, a spurge of confidence glowing. You admit that you were excited, as much as you were stressing over it all. “I mean, it’s not like we’re alone, alone. Donghyuck’s going to be there,” You drop your shoulders and pout.   “I mean, he could be just testing waters,” Renjun explains. You do know, although Renjun is your best friend (nothing more), he is a boy and to some extent, knows things like this.   “I guess… Wish me lucks?” You turn around to him, smiling over your shoulder.   “You don’t need it. Be yourself.”

You walk through the bar by yourself, heart racing with slow steps. You pass through dim lights and strangers, finding yourself deeper into the venue. Old vintage posters hung against the narrow walls, the smell of cigarettes surrounding you as music plays in the background. You finally find him. Sat across Donghyuck, with two pints of beers placed in between them as they laugh with each other. Mark notices your figure approaching, looking up at you through his eyelashes. An innocent smirk gracing his lips as Donghyuck silently moves over. You take that as a signal to sit next to him, as you sit across Mark with a breathless, “Hi,”. Donghyuck quietly giggles at the interaction. His hand covering his muted laugh.   “Would you like something to drink?” Mark asks, already getting up from his seat. Your eyes trail and follow his stance as he casts a shadow over your frame. He stands there in a graphic tee which is slightly tight, highlighting his figure. Not that you were staring too much, but he has a nice build. You swoon to yourself at his offer, licking your lips, “Surprise me,” You reply in a tone a tad bit too sultry for your liking, which doesn’t go unnoticed by the two males looking at you. Mark chuckles deeply at your response, a few of his top teeth showing as he nods off with a finishing smile. He walks into the crowd, away from the table and you watch his back.   “Cute.” Donghyuck gains your attention as you whip your head towards him, flushed.   “No,” You squeak, flustered. Because clearly he was referencing what just happened between you and Mark. Donghyuck just lightly laughs at you, taking a swing at his drink. You two talk casually for a few moments, before Mark returns, placing a red fruity looking cocktail in front of you.

“Surprise,” Mark gestures to the drink with a cocky eyebrow, taking his seat opposite you again.   The night goes by really nicely, Donghyuck is funnier around Mark. It was a feel-good vibe, getting to know both of them. You liked Mark’s drink suggestion a lot, so much so, he bought you 2 more throughout the night. Much to your dismay.

You finally felt like you were getting to know Mark outside his flirty day-to-day messages. He really did live up to all your daydreams so far, and you can’t pinpoint what it was about him that kept you so intrigued. Mark ever so often gazes at you, as if to silently ask if you’re okay. It’s comforting, knowing he cares about that.

His foot slightly nudges yours under the table. It causes you to look up from your drink, Mark looks back up at you innocently. The side of his leg brushing ever so gently against the side of your calf. You gulp slightly, watching him slowly move his body forward, away from the back of the chair. His eyes never leaving yours as he does so. Donghyuck is off on his phone, and Mark’s gaze is so intense you have to look away. Incredibly shy under his hold.

Loud shouting interrupts the moment.

Two men at each others lungs while others try and separate them. Their voices are distance but become more clearer when they approach your table faster than you realise. They’re too drunk to balance themselves as they slightly knock over against your shared bench with Donghyuck. Donghyuck instinctively puts an arm behind, to block them from pushing further. It gets a little out of hand when they knock against the bench once more, pushing your body against the table for you to gain steady balance from the impact. Mark notices your distressed look, “Come,” He mouths to you, knowing the fighting men were too loud for you to hear him. You got the point, once they backed off a little. Standing quickly, Mark mirrors you. He lets you sit in the inside of the seat, against the wall and he sits beside you again. This time, his warm hand holds one of yours from under the table. Donghyuck is safe, looking behind his shoulders looking at the guys. The argument sounded really drunk influenced and pointless, and it makes Donghyuck disinterested. Mark holds your hand close to his belly, over his lap as he looks forward, watching as Donghyuck does. But you’re looking at Mark ever so gently, touched that he’s trying to silently soothe your panicked thoughts.   The guys fighting finally cooled off and were escorted outside. “It’s common around here,” Donghyuck is the first to speak, his head motioning backwards swiftly referencing the guys who just left. “I’m going to use the toilet,” He clicks his tongue, getting up and leaving. Mark never lets go of your hand the whole time.   “Are you okay?” He asks, concern swimming in his tone as he looks at you. You were flustered since it happened all so quick. You nod though admitting, “I’ve never really seen something like that happen,”. Mark gives you a small sympathetic smile. He gives your hand a small squeeze as reassurance and it makes you feel safe. You’re grateful that they helped you from getting hurt, you don’t go out to bars or pubs often, so this experience was new. You both stayed in comfortable silence, looking at each other fondly. Only for a few short moments though because Donghyuck returns to the table.   “Anyway,” He coughs, breaking yet another one of your moments. “It’s getting late, how about we start heading back?” Donghyuck suggests, grabbing hold of his jacket that he took off earlier that night. Mark lets go of your hand upon hearing that, and gets up along with Donghyuck who stood waiting.   “Come, let us bring you home.” Mark smiles down at you, and you feel sad he let go of your hand. You stand with him, as Donghyuck leads you all back outside. The air was cool, and the same two guys were still arguing in the distance, away from the place you just left. You trail behind Mark and Donghyuck, hugging yourself as you all walk through the glass doors of the dorm’s reception entrance. Mark presses the buttons in the lift. He stayed on one of the top floors, and you lived on the 5th. Both Donghyuck and Mark drops you to your dorm door. Making sure to see you go inside, Mark stayed leaning against the side of your door as you stand in the tiny hallway entrance that leads to your single room. A smile on his lips as he says “Goodnight,” Donghyuck mirroring his words before they leave and you close the door behind them.   You were alone again, smiling to yourself at tonight’s events. Missing the way Mark held your hand. You take off your coat and place your bag down before turning on a lamp. You were about to change before you hear a knock on your door. You tilt your head at the sound, questioning if you heard correctly. You stride towards your door anyway, curiously opening the door to find Mark standing there. “Mark…” You say softly as he smiles at the way you say his name. “How come?” You continue, a bit lost for words as you step back widening the door. Mark took this as an invitation to walk into your room. “I was on my floor, but I wanted to see you again,” Mark confesses. He stands in the middle of your slightly glowed room. The small lap emitting a soft yellow glow throughout the room. Mark’s quick to scan your room and you silently thank yourself for cleaning up earlier today.   “You wanted to see me again?” You repeat his words, shutting the door and locking it for extra measure. You walk towards him, your throat feeling a bit dry. You gulp down the dryness, all of a sudden feeling vulnerable because he just stands there with an unreadable expression on his face. “Yeah, I wanted to do this,” He speaks with confidence, closing the distance between you in seconds. He’s quick to effortlessly find purchase at the base of your neck, bringing your face close to his in a swift movement. Taking you by shock. But before he even dares to kiss you, there’s silence. A complete juxtaposition to how he was confident a beat ago. You watch him flutter his eyes close, his lips barely a breath away before he whispers to you ever so quietly, “Just tell me if you don’t want this and I’ll stop.”   Your breath hitches in your lungs, as he delicately kisses your bottom lip. It’s just placed there for a second, barely a kiss. Before he continues, he lets you talk. You don’t say anything though. Mark takes the initiative to pull you closer this time, his other hand around your waist as you relax under his touch. He kisses you again with intention.   This time, he feels assertive, and yearning. You melt into his kiss, finally settling into the curve of his jaw. Holding his face, his smooth skin warm under your palm. This gesture makes Mark smile into your kiss, finally feeling you accept and kiss him back. The kiss is sweet, and his lips plush as he moves them along, just perfectly, his tongue lining against your bottom lip parting them. You welcome him with a small whimper, and he steps backwards. You mindlessly dance with him towards your bed as you both kiss each other with open mouths and open hearts.   The back of Mark’s legs meet the side of your bed as he falls backwards, sitting down. You follow him forward, and gently bite his lips as he giggles. He uses the back of his hands to move further into the bed making room for you. You find yourself straddling his lap, reconnecting your lips together once again. “I think I like you,” Mark suddenly confesses, his heart thumping hard against his chest as he looks at you. The way you place your hands against his chest steadying your balance, you’re speechless. Both because of how he kisses you, and how you’ve ended up in this position. Mark is eager as he holds your hips in place, “Maybe a bit too much,” He chuckles. You smile, letting your weight sink onto his lap as your forehead falls on top of his with an elated smile.   There’s undeniable tension, you both feel it, and more so under you. Mark is noticeably hard, but you choose to stay silent about it. Liking the way you’re so close, and he feels just as vulnerable as you. You give him one small peck, before replying, “I like you too,”. This is all the confirmation Mark needs before he kisses you with more hunger. A feverish tension connecting you both, as his fingers slip under your shirt, gripping and pulling you down against his crotch. You laugh to yourself at how cute he was, trying to hint at you. Pulling away from the kiss, Mark finds a new journey along your neck and behind your ear. Easily finding all your sensitive spots as if he’s known your body forever. You moan embarrassingly, as he detaches his now swollen lips. Eyes now hooded as he reaches behind his head, his jacket already placed else where in the midst of making out. To then grab the collar behind his neck to take off his shirt. You lean backwards a bit, giving him room as your eye the way his bare skin was slowly being exposed under the soft light. The dimness contouring the light outline of his torso. His head pops up with a dorky smile, throwing the shirt over your shoulder. You giggle at his gesture, finding confidence to kiss along his jaw, meeting and kissing his tiny moles on his neck with open mouthed kisses. He likes the way you kiss him and you can tell, by the way his fingers traces along your back. Mark’s hands grips your ass bringing you both closer together. This move makes him fall backwards. You move along with him as he kicks off his shoes and socks, he’s laid back as you move above him more comfortably. You stay straddling him, looking down as you shyly tug the bottom of your shirt. “Close your eyes,”.   Mark seemed to find this endearing and he complies. Closing his eyes much to his dismay, he feels you get up from your position. He stays silent though, knowing you weren’t going anywhere. “Now open…” Mark barely hears you, as he supports himself on his elbows. He opens his eyes to find you standing near the bed, arms around your waist hugging yourself. It was obvious you were shy and nervous, but there you stood. And Mark swore he’s never seen anything as beautiful as you in that moment. Bitten lips, soft skin, glossy eyes and the light from the lamp glowing through the small strands of your messy hair. Mark stands in front of you, unzipping his trousers as he does so. Eyes connecting with yours as he takes them off in front of you. You gulp, feeling feverish under his gaze. The air so thick, as he steps out of his trousers and kicks them away. He reaches out his hand for you to hold, to guide you to the bed. It’s so quiet in your room, you can literally hear your heart ringing against the tips of your ears. “Just tell me if you don’t want this and I’ll stop,” He repeats his earlier words, but now he’s above you. His hands supporting himself against the sides of your head. His hair hanging above your face, tickling your forehead. You scrunch your nose when he smiles at you, “I want this, and I want you,” You whisper, lifting your head to meet him against his lips. Arms looping from his arms that caged you, to hold him around this shoulders connecting from behind his neck. He kisses back, pushing more force as he lets himself relax in your arms. He supports himself flat with his elbows, his legs shuffling between yours. He feels even harder than before, now barely clothed. And he makes sure you know of it, by grinding it against your clothed entrance. You stay kissing him for long moments, the sounds of his breath hitching when you scratch your nails along his bare back. He pulls away eyes still closed, “Condom?” Mark sounds breathless and needy.   You nod, no words forming as your hand reaches to the bedside table. You blindly search through the drawer for your tiny black bag of free condoms the university provided. Mark chuckles when you tap the bag against his rib. He opens his eyes, and smiles to himself.  This time, he straddles you. After taking off his boxers and rolling the condom on. He looks at your hooded eyes through his eyelashes, sucking in his bottom lip when he finally has the condom on. You don’t fail to notice how pretty his fingers looked wrapped around his cock, the size he was and how this was happening. He throws the bag on the floor, before finding your lips again. You yelp in his mouth when his fingers moves along your slit, pushing against the cotton material of your underwear. Your arousal so evident against the material. “You’re wet,” Mark speaks of the obvious with disbelief. He can’t believe he’s managed to get you this wet, with just kisses. It ignites something in him because you find him pressing aside your underwear, hearing his finger lining upwards to collect your wetness briefly. He lifts them and places it in between your kiss, moaning as you both taste yourself on his fingers. Tongues licking at each others briefly.  You whimper when he returns his fingers, this time playing around with your essence and your entrance, “So wet…” He whispers to himself. He barely grazes your clit, before he kisses your neck. Mark’s head resting at the crook of your neck, marking you, when he lines himself up to your entrance. Your wetness easily hugging around the head of his cock. He bites down on your shoulder, finally moving forward to start filling you up. You open your legs wider to accommodate him, gasping at the stretch, nails digging into his shoulders. He teeth lets go of your shoulder to moan breathlessly against your ear, nibbling while he bottoms out.   “F-fuck,” He mutters, “it's so warm inside you,” whispering along with your whimpers because he doesn’t move. Your walls welcome him with love. He’s sinking into your warmth and it makes him crazy.  He only moves once he hears you moan out his name exasperated. “Ma-Mark…” and he starts.

Swift and precise with his thrusts, buckling up into your walls, as your mouth hangs open. He grunts when you clench around his length. “You’re so good, you feel so good,” He praises you, adorning you with his lips, and gentle kisses. He hovers above your glistening glossy eyes, looking into your fucked out expression from his movements. He doesn’t let go of your gaze, hitting into you harder making you bite your lip and knit your eyebrows together. His eyes intense and dark. You hold your clench around him when he speeds up, the way you moan his name like a chant, encourages him to speed up. He feeds off how you thrash your head, moaning and breathing with each thrust he gives you. Rolling his hips as you stick out your tongue. He welcomes you into his mouth, sucking onto you hard, fucking into you double.

“You make me feel so good…. Just like that,” You confess breathless, and he rolls his eyes at how muffled you sound. His hand trailing from your ankle, ghosting above your skin and making you follow along. One of his hands holding himself, while the other fiddles with your harden nipple. You gasp, licking your lips as he lowers his head. Mark’s lips attach onto the bud, sucking and rolling his tongue around. Needy you latch your legs around his waist as he thrusts deeper than you could have previously imagined. You choke on your spit, as he knits his eyebrows accidentally bitting your nipple.

His skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, “Pretty girl,” He kisses your cheeks, and you feel close. You clench onto him harder and tighter the closer you get, and he notices. This makes him speed up, chasing ecstasy, eyes peering over your expressions. The sound of skin slapping, and uneven breathes fill the room as you cum around him. Mouth hung open, your blunt nails running at his back, red lines of love and he’s in awe. Mark’s lips crashing into yours in a whimper. Your legs slightly shake around his figure, falling limp, but Mark doesn’t let up his movements. Chasing your orgasm with his, and he does seconds later. He stills himself above you, holding his breath as you feel him pulse inside of you. His orgasm lasting longer than he’s used to. Warmness sticking your bodies together as his strength gives out. Mark lets his body fall next to you, head spinning, trying to catch his breath. “Fuck…” He whispers to himself.   “We just did,” You smile turning your head, watching as his chest heaves, his hair pressed against his forehead. You rest your palm on his chest, feeling overwhelmed with everything. His heartbeat under your palm. Mark still had so much to show you, you both know it. And you’re excited to find it out. He lets out an airy laugh because of your words, his head now turning in a similar way to see you. His body turns to you also, his hand resting against your face as you look at each other. The tension settling in and feeling like adoration. “Will you be mine?” Mark sounds nervous, which you find really funny considering the deed you both just did together. Nonetheless, you smile at his words, feeling self-assured and vulnerable as you reply, “I’m already yours.”

[brianc521]

Hickey

You sneak around the arena halls, trying to go unnoticed by the band and crew, looking for the two boys you knew would be able to help you with the idea you have.

You find them in the catering room, like you thought you would, and sit in front of them both, resting your hands on the table.

“Okay, so here’s the deal.” You start, catching both of their attentions. “Shawn thinks he’s unprankable,” You say, both of them raising an eyebrow with a sly smug smile gracing their features. “And since you decided to post the video of him scaring me on the new behind the scenes of tour vlog,” You give Connor a pointed look, “I wanna get him back. But it has to be really good.”

Brian sits up straight in his chair, locking eyes with you. “I’m one step ahead of you.” He grins, standing from his seat, motioning for the two of you to follow him away from listening ears of the crew around you.

You and Connor look at each other and shrug, standing to follow Brian out of the room.

You find yourself in a huddle with the two boys, all three spitting out ideas on how to get Shawn. Things like ‘I accidentally broke your guitar’ or ‘You leaked my nudes’ becoming frequent. Brian even going as far as to looking up other couple pranks on youtube to get ideas, and he lands on one that he can’t help but convince you to do.

“The hickey prank.” He grins, showing Connor the screen he was one.

“Yes!” Connor yelps, but then hushed as all three of you look around like you’re doing something suspicious.

“No he won’t believe it.” You shake your head.

“He will.” They boys nod.

“No, we have a strict no hickey rule.” You mumble.

“Exactly, we’ll set the whole thing up. We’re in Portland till the 13th, and it’s the 10th. Tell him you’ve gotten into contact with an old family friend and that you’re going to meet up with them for dinner, don’t say who or what gender, just say a family friend. I’ll go out with him the same night to keep him distracted.” Brian starts his plan.

“But wait, I don’t have a family friend here.”

“I know, that’s why we’ll send you with Connor here.” He pats Connor shoulder. “And you can post a picture of you and Connor, but hide his face, that way Shawn can be like ‘she’s with a guy?’ you know.”

“He’s not the jealous type.” You point out.

Brian gives you a dead look, “All boys are the jealous type when their girl is out with another dude.”

You nod, acknowledging that that’s true. “Okay so then what?”

“The next day we’ll plant a fake hickey on your neck, and have Connor say he wants to record all day, that is until after the prank you know, and wait till he notices and reacts.”

The plan sounded really good, and deep down you know Shawn would never believe it, but the two puppies in front of you were so excited and practically pouncing at your feet so you sigh, nodding and agreeing to the plan.

**

“Babe, I’m going out with Brian to watch the game at the arena, they’ve set it up on the big screen and everything, wanna come?” Shawn asks, slipping on a new t-shirt, freshly washed curls clinging to his forehead.

“Actually,” You bite your lip, the nerves already eating you alive. “I’m meeting up with an old family friend for dinner.”

Shawn turns and looks at you with furrowed brows. “I didn’t realize you knew anyone from Portland.”

“Well I don’t,” You drag out. “They used to be really close with my family, and moved when I was fresh out of high school.”

“Oh, okay.” He runs his fingers through his curls, pushing them back. “Want me to come? I can tell Brian I have plans.”

“No it’s okay, go watch the game. I’ll meet up with my friend, and meet you back here.” You say, fixing up your lip gloss a bit.

Brian gave you notes on how to act, what to say, and what to do.

“Oh,” Shawn watches you. “Okay, have fun then.” He turns away confused.

It wasn’t often that you turned down his offer of joining you somewhere. With the fact that he toured so much of the year, any chance you had to spend together you took greedily.

“Thanks Babe.”

He watches you slip on your heels and adjust the dress you’re wearing in the mirror. He walks up behind you, arms circling around and pulling you into his chest, chin on your shoulder.

“You look pretty.”

“Thank you. You’re pretty handsome yourself.”

“Where are you going for dinner?”

“This restaurant not far from here, my friends gonna pick me up.”

“Do they know about me?” He asks.

“No, I didn’t want them to like leak the hotel, they don’t know I have a boyfriend.”

Shawn’s eyes harden a little. “Who is it?”

“An old family friend, I don’t think I’ve ever talked to you about them.”

He doesn’t want to ask if it’s a boy or not, because he knows he has no reason to be jealous, but his gut is telling him that something is off here. He takes your left hand and nervously plays with the promise ring on your finger.

“Okay,” He pouts, “Be safe okay? Call me if you need a ride or anything?”

“Of course.” You smile at him.

Your phone buzzes and you know that’s Connor texting the ‘I’m here’ as your ride.

“I gotta go Baby.” You look at Shawn through the mirror.

He nods, letting go and watching you grab your purse and slip it over your shoulder. You lean up and leave a chaste kiss to his cheek and bolt out the door, you physically have to bite your tongue to not say ‘I love you’ like you always do.

**

You and Connor sit in the parking lot of a McDonald’s waiting on play by plays from Brian on how Shawn’s doing.

Shawn’s been texting you all night, but you’ve kept the responses short and sweet, sometimes not even responding at all.

“Connor, I don’t know about this. I feel bad.”

“Come on, you wanted to get him back right? Well jumping out around the corner from him isn’t gonna do it. We had to take it up a level.”

You nod, and bite your nail as Brian texts.

iMessage from Brian: He’s freaking out.

iMessage from Brian: Post the picture.

You wiggle your toes anxiously as you click over to Instagram, and post the picture you and Connor took earlier today at the arena in a safe zone that could look like you were anywhere.

His face was covered by your hand as you were pushing it in the opposite direction, big laugh and smile on your face, and most importantly his hand around your waist, gripping your left hip.

You wait and close the app, to anxious to see if he’s seen it.

iMessage from Brian: He just saw your post.

iMessage from Brian: He’s replayed it 5 times.

iMessage from Brian: He’s zoomed in on Connors hand

iMessage from Brian: He’s jealous

**

You waited in Connors room alone while he went out with the rest of the crew to make it seem like you were still out with your friend.

Shawn had decided to stay in and not go out, so he could wait for you. You knew he was probably pacing the length of your shared room across the hall.

It was now a little past midnight and you decide it’s time to head back over, especially because you’re tired and want to go to bed. You quietly sneak out of Connors room and tip toe back to yours, slipping the key card in the slot and walking in.

To no surprise the lights are still on and the TV is playing a rerun of One Tree Hill. You look around and don’t spot Shawn anywhere, but you hear the toilet flush and the sink water start running so you quickly take your heels off and set your purse down, and start rummaging for things to wear to bed.

He walks out of the bathroom, flipping the light off and stopping short when he sees you.

“Hey,” He says softly, taking a seat on the bed next to your suitcase that you’ve set on your side so you can dig through it.

“Hi.” You greet him.

“How was your night?” He asks.

“It was good, yours?”

“Um, it was okay.”

He watches you as you grab a tank top and shorts with a pair of lace panties. You turn and grab your lotion off the nightstand and your hair towel wrap.

“Are you taking a shower?” He asks, looking at the clock. “At midnight?”

“Yeah, I feel all gross.” You nod. “It was hotter than I was expecting and I’ve been sweating.”

His heart is racing a little. “Can I join you?”

At any other moment you would have pulled him into the bathroom with you, but to keep the act up you shake your head. “Maybe next time, I just wanna shower real quick and head to bed.”

He nods, and watches you go and shut the door to the bathroom behind you. You even go as far as to flip the lock. He grabs his phone and looks back at your story, biting his lip and bouncing his leg as he tries to figure out who you were with.

**

You met with Connor and Brian first thing in the morning to apply the hickey. From watching the few other hickey pranks you noticed that the ones with the most success used lipstick. So that’s what you did.

In no time you had a nice little purple bruise littered to your skin.

“It’s perfect, subtle but eye catching.”

“Good, okay.” You take a deep breath. “I’m freaking out.”

“It’s okay, once he notices it you can stop the prank at anytime.”

“Okay.” You nod.

“It’s okay Y/n, you haven’t done anything wrong. It’s all a joke.” Brian pats your shoulder.

“I know but to him it’s not yet, and he’s being really clingy and I’m like pushing him away.”

“For now, it all ends today. Promise.”

Connor focuses the camera on you so you can start the video.

“Hey guys! So as you saw Shawn scared me a week ago and I broke my phone. Well he claimed, after that, that he was unprankable. So I’ve teamed up with Brian,” Connor pans to Brian, “And Connor,” Connor waves at that lens, “And we’ve come up with a plan to prank Shawn. So last night I told Shawn that I was meeting up with an old family friend for dinner while him and Brian watched the game. In reality I sat at McDonald’s with Connor and got play by play text messages from Brian. The picture I posted with another guy was actually a picture completely posed of Connor and I, that Brian took earlier while Shawn was at rehearsals. I was super shady and have been keeping my distance from Shawn since I got back from my ‘dinner’” You motion air quotes, “And well,” You pull your hair back and reveal the fake hickey. “We’re gonna prank Shawn into thinking that someone else gave me a hickey.”

**

He’d gone all morning without noticing. You even put your hair up to expose of your neck even more.

It wasn’t until you were seated with the band at lunch that he saw it. You knew when he saw it too, because his eyes widened a little, and Connor had zoomed in on the two of you.

He cleared his throat, adjusted the way he was sitting and leaned closer to subtly inspect your neck. His cheeks flushed, and when you laid a hand on his thigh he brushed you off.

You made the slight signal to Brian and he nodded and worked on getting the team out of the room, Connor dropped his camera off on the desk, still filming and everyone left except you too.

The second you two were alone he spoke up.

“What is that?” He asks, pointing at your neck with his chin, voice even, jaw clenched.

“What’s what?” You play dumb, looking behind you at the camera.

“On your neck.” He bites his lip. “That’s a hickey on your neck.”

“A what.” You reach up and rub the wrong side of your neck.

“No, right there.” He reaches out and touches it. “That’s a hickey.”

He locks eyes with you, and all you can see is anger and insecurity.

“Did you give me a hickey?” You stumble over your words.

He rolls his eyes. “When the fuck would I have given you a hickey? We haven’t done anything in four days.”

You wanna laugh at the fact that he knows the exact amount of days, but don’t.

“I must have burnt myself on my flat iron this morning.” You pull away from his hand.

“Bullshit,” He spits, “That’s not a fucking burn, that’s a fucking hickey.”

“It’s not a hickey Shawn.”

“Yes the fuck it is.” His eyes flare, and it’s like it all clicks. His breathing picks up and his hands start to shake.

You’re over the prank by now.

“Shawn,” You reach for his hand before he pulls away and slides his body away from yours. “Stop.”

“Who were you with last night?” He asks, eyes flickering from your neck to your eyes. “Where did you go? Why were you gone so late?”

He’s finger combing through his curls and shaking his head.

“Oh my god, holy shit.” He looks back at your neck, really looking at it.

“Shawn,” You start but he shakes his head.

“Tell me the truth, who were you with? What friend was it?”

He was actually believing that you would cheat on him, and he was working himself up into a panic.

“Stop,” You crawl forward, planting yourself on his lap. “It’s a prank, look at me, it’s prank.”

His head snaps to look at you, eyes wide and blown out. “What?”

“Connor! Brian!” You call. “I’m calling it, prank over.”

The boys peek into the room from the hall.

Shawn looks confused as he looks around, watching Connor walk over to the desk and grab his camera.

“Oh my god,” Shawn throws his head back, “Holy shit.”

His breathing starts to even out, and he relaxes against you.

“I can’t believe you believed it.”

“You scared me!” He whines, looking at you with hooded lids. “You were being hella shady last night and this morning, and then like you’ve got a hickey.” He mumbles. “How do you have a hickey?”

“It’s lipstick.”

He licks his thumb and wipes it across your neck, looking back at his thumb that’s now a slight shade of purple.

“Oh my god,” He sighs, “Don’t do that! I was freaking out. You’re my whole life, and like, ughh!”

“How’s that for unprankable bitch?” Brian asks, laughing from the doorway.

“That was mean.” He pouts looking up at you. “Don’t do that! Fucking, pants me in public or something, but don’t do that.”

“I’m sorry, they convinced me too.”

“I almost took your promise ring.” He whispers, thumbing with it.

You gasp and rip your hand back. “You will do no such thing.”

“What do you expect, I thought-”

“I know,” You dig your hands into his curls. “But I would never, you know that.”

He takes a deep breath and rests his forehead against yours.

Connor walks around and focuses on your face.

“Well you saw it here folks, Shawn Mendes isn’t as unprankable as he thought he was.” You say to the camera, getting Shawn to look up.

“Oh Baby, you don’t even know what you started.” He grins, looking at you to the camera. “Stay tuned.”

[beautifulletdownfics]

‘someday, someday’ :: tumblr edition, #21

I woke up to Harry.

"What are you—

"Shhh," He interrupted my sleepy confusion, his arms were digging under my body and pulling me out from the back of the sofa I had been sleeping on, "Just hang on a minute ..."

He leaned over me slowly and lodged himself between the back of the sofa and my body, his arms tightly holding around the duvet I was burritoed in. I very much felt like I was about to fall onto the floor and an involuntary yelp escaped me to express the thought. The jolting movement caused an unpleasant rush through my head pointing to the hangover brewing.

"I've got you," Harry reassured me, straightening up and pulling me even closer against his chest. He wiggled his legs slightly to sandwich mine and help us both to sit snuggly. Flashes of our intimate moments the night before rose in my mind as Harry’s cologne triggered a vivid memory.  His hands now were soft and gentle but my mind remembered them searching my body lustfully and I couldn’t stop the way my heart started racing from the memory.

"Your hair is wet," I told him dumbly, feeling the cold wetness from a stray lock stick to my cheek.

"I had a shower." "Here?" I frowned, Harry hadn't been here when the girls and I had arrived back at my house sometime around four in the morning.

"No," I could feel him smiling as he pressed his lips to my forehead, "I showered at home and came straight here to make sure you survived the night.”

I turned my head up to meet his, grinning back at him when he seemed surprised by the movement. I went straight for his lips, wanting to feel the same sensation of glorious mindlessness that I had kissing him last night. Harry hummed against me and quickly deepened the kiss, dragging a hand up my back to hold the back on my head. The material of the knitted jumper he was wearing scratched my cheek and I smiled against him when he flipped one of his legs over both of mine to trap me further. Just when my body was starting to get into the rhythm of the kiss Harry slowly pulled back from it. His lips found my chin and my nose and then the side of my mouth before he stopped completely and just looked at me.

He didn’t say anything for a few beats, "That was very nice. How was the rest of your night last night? What did I miss?”

I pressed my pointer finger to his chin, inspecting the way his lips were pinker from having kissed me, “I think I have a bruise on my leg from a bar stool.”

Harry’s laugh exploded out of him before even he could contain it and I lowered my hands back between us against his warm chest to snuggle down in the cuddle, “What on earth did you get up to with a bar stool? Should I be jealous?”

“We ended up at a karaoke bar and Bel needed a boost up onto a stool but she fell off and it crashed into my leg. She has an egg on her head.”

“Jesus Christ, is she okay?” Harry’s chest was shaking with laughter.

“She’s mad she messed up the lyrics to Life for Rent.”

Harry nearly snorted when a deeper laugh overtook him and he settled into a long, deep laugh, “She picked a Dido song?”

I was grinning at the way Harry could hardly get the words out. I wasn’t sure how I’d managed to be the one causing this bubbling of joy from him but I loved every second of it. I closed my eyes and settled into the feeling of being held and tried to forget the headache swirling around my head.

“Life for Rent is actually a beautiful song,” I defended quietly.

“It it,” Harry agreed, “It’s just so left of centre. I was surprised ... I needed that laugh, thank you.”

"My pleasure, but if my leg needs to be amputated, boy, are you going to be sorry your initial reaction was laughter."

"Didn't think I'd ever see a day I could say Nina Lawrence was being over-dramatic," Harry said dryly.

"You've unleashed a monster."

“Sounds like you had a fun night?" He asked quietly, his lips moving against my check, "What time did you get in?"

My mind was running at a million miles from Harry being so close and stumbled on my answer, "I did. Somewhere around four I think."

"And you're a good host so you've let them take your bed?" He asked, referring to the girls.

Yes, but I wish I’d taken you up on the offer to stay in yours last night.

"Four in the bed was a bit too much." I confirmed.

"You looked very cosy out here, I wasn't going to join you but I found I couldn't resist."

"I wasn't expecting you this morning," I said, broaching the topic of why Harry was at my house.

He'd surprised me last night when he stayed with my family after my performance at Royal Albert Hall until midnight. Eventually he’d whispered in my ear he needed to leave if he was going to be able to sing properly today. In the excitement of my performance I had forgotten he had his own to think about.

Soon after I ended up going out with the girls, who were keen to have one last dance in London before going back home up North. I wasn’t complaining about him being here this morning, but I thought we had our Christmas farewell the night before.

Up against Harry’s car. For about twenty minutes.

"I'm here to sneak you out for a quick breakfast before the others wake up,” He said, and I felt myself blush at what I had been remembering from the night before, “I was thinking about it last night after I got home and I just kind of decided I wasn’t particularly happy with not seeing you this morning when if I was organised I definitely could.”

Harry’s fingers were drawing distracting circles on my back and feeling the vibrations from his voice as he spoke from having my head pressed against his chest only made it all feel a special kind of intimate.

A lovely warm feeling filled me at his words. If seeing him hold his own with my family and friends last night wasn't already enough to reassure me of Harry fitting in my world surely seeing the effort he put into getting to spend time with me was convincing enough. If only the dirty voices of doubt in me could see that.

I hadn't said anything, Harry squeezed me slightly, "Can I have one more date before you leave?"

"'Course you can," I mumbled back, dragging my hands up and tugging at the neck of his jumper.

"A true gentlemen would have come over and cooked breakfast for all of you ... My compromise is that we bring breakfast back for the girls, what time do you think they'll wake up?."

"They won't surface before midday. The train we’re getting is at 1:30.”

"Great, we have plenty of time then ... On a scale of one to ten how much does <i>your</i> head hurt right now?"

"A four but growing."

"You need some food. And fresh air," Harry said decisively, "A green juice and some breakfast and you'll be good as new."

At the thought of getting up a heavy weariness fell over me, "Or we could just stay like this all day."

Harry hummed into my hairline and squeezed his arms around me again, "Very tempting. But I'm actually extremely hungry, I went for a run earlier."

"Earlier?" I groaned, "What could be earlier than this?"

Harry laughed and without any warning sat up, keeping his hold on me and forcing me upright as well.

"Wait," I protested meekly, needing a moment to take stock of exactly how bad I was feeling.

"Are you going to vomit? Should I be worried about alcohol poisoning?"

I hit his arm lightly, "No, just give me some warning next time."

Harry gave me ten minutes to creep around upstairs and get myself decent for breakfast. It required sneaking into my room for a change of clothes, the three lumps that were Isobel, Sam, and Georgie taking up all of my bed didn't make a sound or movement while I did so. Still, I scrawled out a note for them at left it on top of Sam's phone where it was charging.

Harry had waited for me on the sofa, and when he heard me coming down the stairs he met me at the bottom of them, all rugged up in this coat and a scarf. I followed him out the door, sneaking a look at his bum in the trendy, loose blue jeans he was wearing. He looked fantastic.

Harry grabbed for my hand when outside I started walking towards his car, "Nope, this way," he corrected, tugging me towards him and starting to walk in the opposite direction down my street, "I Googled, there's a nice looking place just around the corner. I thought we could just walk there?"

"You're a man with a plan," I commented, swinging our joined hands between us.

"I'd hate you to think I don't have my shit together," Harry quipped back, "Besides which, I take you and breakfast very seriously."

Oh boy.

"My brain can't decide yet if food sounds good or bad," I groaned, pulling my sunglasses down from the top of my head. The wintery London chill was in the air but we were being graced with an uncharacteristic sunny morning.

The cafe Harry had in mind was a little busy, but Harry walked in with purpose, asking for a table for two of us. We ended up tucked into a corner, Harry sat with his back to the window and immediately opened the menu reminding me not for the first time just how hungry he was.

I didn’t spend a lot of time looking at the menu, the third thing on the breakfast list was ricotta pancakes with strawberries. I didn’t need to see any further options.

Harry deliberated over two or three options however, looking crestfallen when the waitress came over and he had to make a final decision. He was trying to avoid dairy for the day to help with his voice.

Once I ordered food with a coffee he pointed to the menu and said “I’ll have this one. With bacon,” a small frown, “And mushrooms.”

He also ordered two green juices, promising me it would help with the thudding in my head.

“Is an OJ not good enough?” I lamented after the waitress left.

Harry grinned at me, “You’re a precious drunk.”

“I am not still drunk,” I defended quickly, taking my sunglasses off my head and putting them on top of my phone on the table.

“Precious hungover then,” He edited warmly. "I really like your family and friends. Last night was great.”

“I thought so to. Although they’re all a bit mad too,” I cringed remembering Bel and Georgie singing a very, very old One Direction song at Harry last night at the hotel. Tequila shots made them quite musical.

As if he knew the moment I was thinking of, Harry spoke up, ”I liked it, it was fun. If I was a plumber they’d have made sewerage jokes all night. It’s okay. I can take it.”

"They all went easy on us, trust me,” I was thinking of all the times my mum made eyes at me throughout the night when she’d caught Harry watching me or being sweet in some way.

"I'm looking forward to getting to the stage where they don't. Hopefully."

He was fishing for reassurance, I smiled and squinted at him, knowing he knew what I was going to say but it was important I said it anyway, "They all love you, don't worry."

Harry's smile brightened and his eyes locked on mine, “I like this ... You never used to make eye contact, it would drive me mad.”

My friends forgotten, suddenly I felt I was under his scrutiny, his attention wafting from one line of conversation to another without warning, "What?"

"You'd look at my chin or my nose, and if we made eye contact you'd look away so quickly it was as though it never happened. It drove me crazy."

I winced, "I can't imagine why you bothered persisting. Sorry."

“I could tell you, but I’m not sure your hangover can weather how sappy I’d get,” Harry said, saved by the bell that was our drinks being brought over to the table.

I was sure the waitress had heard the last of the conversation though, and felt her looking between us knowingly. I felt my face heat and when I chanced a glance across to Harry he looked like the cat that ate the canary.

“Are you still buzzing from last night?” Harry asked when we were alone again.

“Yeah,” I smiled at him, “But the better question is are you excited for your performance tonight?”

“I am” Harry provided carefully, adding a perfectly measured spoonful of sugar to his black coffee and stirring it through.

“But?” I prompted

“I’m a little nervous,” He admitted. “I always am when it’s a telly thing, they’re always a bit awkward. Singing to a camera and then an audience that’s not really into it … It feels like work where proper live shows don’t really. But it will be nice to be back up on stage with the lads.”

I nodded at him diplomatically, “A healthy dose of nerves is a good thing I’ve been told, means you don’t take it for granted.”

“You’re telling me even Protégés even get nervous?”

“Are you ever going to drop that?” I groaned.

“Nope.” He said easily.

“I was shitting myself before last night … I’ve never been good at the ‘healthy dose’ part of that,” I said with a slow smile.

Harry’s face dropped just a touch, but I hadn’t meant to berate him in any way. It had served as a reminder of something to him though and I watched him struggle with what to say next. I decided to rescue him.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” He answered immediately, looking painfully earnest.

“You were so kind to me, right from before I even realised you knew I existed …” I paused, not know how to ask the actual question part, Harry watched me carefully, “Why?”

Some part of him relaxed slightly, “I’d like to think I’m kind to pretty much everyone. It’s the default, my mum would always tell us that when we were kids: Being kind should be your default setting.”

“And what about if someone is a jerk?”

Harry’s smile returned, “Kill them with kindness.”

“What about if someone is kind of standoffish and disinterested in even a pleasant, casual social interaction? What if they barely give you the time of day to be kind?”

“Are you referring to yourself?”

“Maybe.”

“Wear them down until they date you.”

Now I was left without knowing what to say, and my shock evidently played out in my expression because Harry watched me carefully but smiled at whatever he saw. He’d won that discussion by being honest and I could see Harry knew he had me.

“Nina it was never about polite kindness with you.”

Our food had arrived and the smell of sweet, warm pancakes made my stomach rumble with delight, “What does that mean?” I asked, waiting a moment before taking my first bite. It was delicious.

“I’d heard Rodger and Max talk about you well before I met you. They’re nuts about you and the way Rodger would speak about you used to annoy me, if I’m honest. Early on he corrected my assumption he had a thing for you, I think I told him to just hurry up and marry you already,” Harry shook his head at himself, “I used to think ‘if she’s so bloody great how come she never comes to anything’. I started joking that you didn’t really exist, that everyone had invented you as a wind up.”

“You did?”

Harry was laughing at the memory, “I did. Then I left my hat at your place and Rodger told me you would be home to give it to me.” “I’d forgotten about that,” I said, “I always think Rodger’s party was the first time we met.”

“That hurts,” Harry feigns a pain over his heard, “Standing outside your house feeling as though I’d been stabbed in the heart or I was about to throw up is one of my most memorable moments.”

I winced, “What a memory.”

“The second I saw you I was done for, Nina." He said slowly, his expression sincere but cautious as though he was treading carefully with his words, "I’d had all this build up from everyone about about how incredible you were that as soon as I saw you I got a crush ten feet tall and as wide as the sea ... Everyone had failed to mention you were gorgeous too.”

I knew I was bright red, but I could see Harry wasn’t going to save me from my embarrassment, he held eye contact and waited for me to stop internally protesting what he had said. Hearing that Harry's attraction had been so instantaneous both reassured me and had me feeling guilty, it had taken me weeks to get to that point.

"I should really start paying Rodger for whatever he's saying about me."

Harry laughed and nodded, "You really should ... I wasn't just being nice for the sake of it, Nina. I wanted you to like me as much as I liked you. I had that fun but soul destroying feeling where you're so into someone it's addictive and you just want to see them again. It was so annoying not get enough time with you on your own—I’m sounding like a maniac right now, I know,” He hurried, “But I’d find myself so pissed off at Rodger speaking over you or Max jumping in to save you from having to answer. I knew if I just had the time with you alone you’d open up more. I hated that every time I saw you it was coincidental, I just wanted to get to the point where I could plan when I'd get to see you next on my own. I’d make plans with Rodger or Max not knowing if they'd bring you along as well.”

"Harry," I said gently, waiting his remembered frustration play out in his features.

"I'd be crushed every time you didn't appear," He continued slowly, "And after the Regina show, you disappeared for weeks and I never felt like it was my place to reach out directly. I was pretty sure you hated me. "

"I'm sorry, I never hated you."

"I know," Harry smiled, "I can be a romantic dramatist."

"I think I thought I'd embarrassed myself to Kingdom Come and you'd want nothing to do with my drama anyway."

He deflated a little, "I'm not going to be like him, Nina," Harry paused to make sure I knew who he was referring to, "If you're going through something I want to know."

I sighed and dropped my chin into my hand, propped up on the table, "You're pretty lovely, know that?"

"I'd really like this to work for us, Nina, and I don't want to push you but at the same time I don't want to allow there to be any room for you to doubt it. Or me."

We were both finished eating and I watched Harry for a moment. He never seem phased by anything, so having him reveal his feelings when I was hesitant to assume them was pleasant in an unexpected way. Usually the thought of someone noticing me in a social setting made my skin crawl, but knowing Harry had been watching and wanting to know me better was settling somehow. To also have him acknowledge what I had told him about my last relationship and the dynamic there was also reassuring, if not scary. It was always a heavily guarded secret inside me, and I wasn’t used to having him privy to it yet.

"This means I'm going to have to add you to my Christmas list, doesn't it?" I asked playfully, delighted when Harry's face lit up in response.

"You sure do.”

“I think an M&S voucher should suffice,” I teased, trying to look thoughtful.

Harry raised his eyebrows at me, “That would be lovely actually, I could use some new underwear.”

Harry looked proud of his quickness, and he took his time taking a long sip of his coffee, watching me over the cup. I simply smiled back and tried a little of the juice he had ordered for me, scrunching my nose up at what I could only describe as a green flavour.

“Oh god,” I coughed, “That tastes like a garden.” Harry beamed at me, “It’ll put five years back on your life.”

+++

“Bye Harry!” “Bye Harry, we’ll be texting our review after tonight!”

“Harry,” Bel leaned forward between Harry’s front seats, looking as though she was tossing up between multiple things to say, finally settling on, “Don’t trip.”

Harry barked out a laugh at that, promising her he wouldn’t, “It would probably make great TV though,” he added, “I’m sure there are lots of people that would love to see me land on my arse.”

Bel seemed to consider that for a moment, then seemed to shrug it off, “We’ll see you when we see you, Harry. Thanks for the ride.”

I turned in my seat to watch her slip out onto the footpath outside Farringdon station. Harry had made good of his promise to take breakfast back to my house for everyone. We left the cafe with arms of pastries and coffees, and then he insisted on saving us the Uber fare by driving us to the train up North himself. Harry popped the boot for them and looked in the rearview mirror to make sure it had opened.

“Have a great Christmas,” He said quietly, pulling me back, Harry’s eyes flicked back to the mirror as I registered that we wouldn’t have much time to do this goodbye.

“You too,” I said, turning to face him in my seat.

“Have fun and be safe and miss me loads,” He added, shifting around and leaning on the middle console towards me, he curled his index finger at me, “C’mere.”

I smiled and leaned in towards him, Harry’s thumb and pointer finger met my chin and he gently pulled it up to the right angle for him to lower in for a kiss. Harry pulled back after one chaste attempt, giving me only enough time to lick my lips before we were pressed back together, his tongue giving only the shortest tease. He dropped his fingers from chin and sat back in his seat.

“I’ll see you on the 28th,” He confirmed, turning his head to me, “But I’ll talk to you before then.”

“Yep,” I nodded, “Break a leg tonight. And save me some of that croissant bread and butter pudding your mum makes.”

Harry laughed, “I will. She’s going to adore that you’re so keen for it.”

Georgie’s face appeared next to my window, “I need to go.”

“You do,” He agreed, reaching for the side of my face and pulling himself over the console again to give me one last kiss, “Be good.”

I screwed up my nose at him as I opened my door, “I’m always good.”

“You still need to sign the program from last night for me," He said quickly, just as I was about to shut the door, "I’m getting it framed.”

I rolled my eyes at him, "Bye Harry,"

"Merry Christmas, Protégé!"

++

"I fucking hate you.”

I did. I really did. But my face cracked into a grin and I walked back into Bel’s family lounge room carrying a tray of teas. Georgie was modelling a One Direction t-shirt she had pulled from God knows where and Bel was busy pinning a Liam badge to her pyjama top.

“Where did you even get those!”

“It was a two for one deal online,” Georgie told me happily, “Sam didn’t think it was a good idea for us to keep teasing you, but if you ask me she’s being unsupportive.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Sam said, moving over on the two-seater she was on to make room for me. I linked my arm through hers when I sat.

Bel’s parents were away visiting with her sister and brother-in-law in Glasgow, not returning until the following morning. Her dad had the TV sound system to shame all sound systems which apparently meant we had to watch Harry on the telly there. The empty house was enough to sell me on the idea, mine was full of cousins and family who would delight in teasing me about Harry. But this would be the first time I would properly witness him singing and I didn’t think I could handle it if I couldn’t just focus on him and what I was seeing.

We were making an old school sleepover of it, which we had decided upon on the train back earlier today. We all had gone to our respective family homes and then repacked for a night at Bel’s. The food had been ordered in and it was about half an hour until the program started. While we waited for Indian to arrive we chatted our way through numerous pieces of gossip from our wider friendship group in Blackpool, and back to our family Christmases.

It was tradition that we met at the pub on Boxing day where it seemed everyone we knew under thirty five who was home for the holiday season all went to debrief after surviving spending an extended period of time with their families. The same thing happened on New Years Day before everyone headed back to London or Manchester to their regular lives.

"How's that bruise on your leg?" Bel asked suddenly, looking across at me and nodding at my covered legs.

"It's okay, how's your hea—

"—You should’ve gotten Harry to kiss it better,” Georgie cut me off.

“Yeah,” Bel agreed, a devilish smile on her face, “I bet he’s really good at that kind of thing.”

“What!” I squawked, watching Sam stand up when the doorbell rang. She waved off any help in collecting the food and I was left to Bel and Georgie’s inappropriate giggling.

“Harry’s fit, take it graciously.” Bel said.

“He is!” I defended, “But I don’t need to bloody hear it from you.”

“If I had a guy like Harry I’d be snug as shit about it,” Georgie exclaimed, standing up to help Sam unpack the food onto the coffee table. “I could use some new relationship sex. It’s always so delightful.”

“Oh my god,” I groaned.

“Here we go,” Bel rolled her eyes, “Horny Georgie.”

Georgie had the audacity to look wounded, “Sorry, what year is it? I won’t be shamed for liking sex!”

“Nobody was shaming you, George,” Sam said calmly, “But next time take a breath before you mention Nina’s new boyfriend and then sex, mmm?” “I wasn’t saying I wanted to bang Harry!” Georgie said to me quickly.

“I know,” I smiled, wanting to get as far as I could from this conversation as quickly as possible, “Pass me a plate.”

We already had plates and cutlery ready. I watched as the containers were popped open. Bel moved to kneel at the table and started to serve herself bits of all the different curries we had ordered. Sam gave Georgie one last look, and I wished I knew how to save them from each other’s strong opinions. Really I just wanted to move the conversation away from my sex life. I didn’t have the energy to explain why Harry and I hadn’t slept together yet.

Food was just the distraction needed to reset the conversation.

We spent the next hour talking and eating our way through the first part of the Charity Gala on the telly. There was an all-star line up with all the usual suspects in the London music and comedy scene. We gossiped our way through who was who, who was good and who wasn’t really actually funny.

I felt like by the time it was One Direction being introduced that I had lived half a life time in nervous anticipation. I had been preparing myself for a shift, or for at least seeing a side of Harry that I hadn’t before which had the potential to make me feel uncomfortable.

I knew that the band hadn’t performed together very much in the last twelve months. Harry had said that much himself, and it was a fact that was getting played up all night in the lead up to them performing. The world had missed them, the presenter kept saying, as the moment they were on stage was built up—it was clear they were being presented as the big act of the night.

Finally they were announced to be after the ad break. Which gave me enough time to refill my glass of wine and chew my way through a handful of Dairy Milk buttons.

“Don’t eat your hand, Nina,” Bel joked from her spot across the room.

“Shut up,” I mumbled, “It’s this or projectile vomit on your mum’s good rug.”

"Why are you freaking out so much about this?"

"I haven't seen him perform before," I provided quietly, trying to hide the quiver to my voice.

Sam's arm came around me and she held me in a side hug, "This shouldn't change your opinion of him," she said just to me, sensing there was more going on than I was letting on.

"I just haven't seen it before," I reiterated, wondering what 'it' was and why something about the whole concept of seeing Harry perform made me feel uneasy.

The ad break came to a close and there was no introduction to the act or the song, a thumping drum beat started and panning shots of the audience facing the stage took over the screen. The girls quietened around me but Sam kept her arm around me, giving my shoulder a slight squeeze.

The introduction to the song went too long. I kept anticipating the start but the drums kept going and the intro rolled on. Eventually I heard what was distinctly Harry's laugh through a microphone and then he started singing.

The camera panned on him first. He was grinning and a little red but he stood where he was and sang beautifully in an impeccable upper lower register. He swayed slightly to the beat, the silky material of the shirt that was poorly tucked into his jeans moving softly with his hips.

"That's your man, Nina," Georgie clapped towards the TV when Harry stopped singing and someone else took over.

The camera panned over all the members of the band, holding on the drummer for a little while and then going back to get the shot of the audience with the four members of One Direction facing them.

Harry had lovely tone to his voice. It rumbled out of his chest smoothly and his harmonies cut through the melody perfectly. He looked like he belonged exactly where he was on stage. Each time he was on the screen he was interacting the the camera, the audience or a bandmate. Harry made it all look fun and when the song came to and end he joined the others in happily greeting the people in the room with them, thanking the crowd for having them.

"And all of you at home too," A voice off screen said, I wasn't sure which member.

Harry appeared on screen again, screwing the lid back onto a water bottle, and then leaving it to walk back to his mic stand, "Thank you for having us," He said simply, "This is Story of My Life."

They played through the slower song and I stared at Harry's spot on the stage the whole time, only noticing his bandmates when the camera left him and I was forced to. The girls were making observations around me but I wasn't really listening. It was so strange to be looking at Harry in that setting.

He had slowly become such a strong force in my life and I was finding it hard to come to terms with the fact that there was such a huge part of him, of his life, that I'd not experienced at all. We hardly spoke about his job and I was left wondering why. He was clearly so good at it and I was concerned by the fact he hadn't shared much with me.

The next song started and I turned to Sam beside me, "Harry never talks to me about his job. Is that odd?"

She craned her neck to look at me properly, her brows drawn like she didn't understand where my question was coming from, her features then rose into surprise, "Nina, I ... No, I don't think so. Don't ... Don't psyche yourself out. Harry's so into you, you'd have to be an idiot to miss that."

I looked back to the screen, watching Harry sing his heart out on live National television, "We don't talk about who he is. I mean, look," I waved my hand at the television, "He's fucking Harry Styles ... Why is that only just hitting me?"

"Because he's not that to you, babe," Georgie added gently from across the room, her eyes understanding, "He's just a lad. He's just your Harry. And I know we give you both shit ... Well, mostly me," She half shrugged, "We give you shit about him but if he was some famous fuckwit we wouldn't act like we do." "He's set the tone," Bel jumped in, "He didn't walk in and throw his name around, and now he's sharing it with you. It's probably awkward for him to bring it up with people."

"I think it's my fault," I said. "I've been so bad at asking him about himself, I alway feel so awkward and I didn't want him to think I was digging for that, you know?"

"Don't overthink this," Sam hugged my side, "He's mad about you, and I bet he appreciated not feeling like was a factor with you.."

The only real window into Harry's job and the status that came with it had been my attending the dinner earlier in the year where I'd met some of his friends. Friends, who as it turned out, had sent a photograph of the night to someone working at a media corporation. I'd been distracted by the fact Harry had lied about how we knew each other, and I hadn't focused really on the fact that was what his life was like sometimes, and why.

The 'why' was this, what I was watching, Harry being on stage and a part of this universally known and loved band.

"Nina," Sam pulled me out of my thoughts, "He's really bloody good. Appreciate his job for that, don't get stuck on the rest of it ... You've got music in common, let that be something wonderful."

She was right. Having music in common with Harry was wonderful.

"He's so cool," I said without thinking.

"Right," Georgie huffed, "How do you think we all bloody felt watching you last night?"

"His voice is really lovely," I could feel a blush rising.

"Now we're talking!" Sam said, jamming her fingers into my ribs, "That rockstar is yours."

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I replied softly, hoping nobody would elaborate on the matter. I regretted saying it as soon as it came out of my mouth. I hadn't felt any pressure with Harry on the topic, so why it fell out of my mouth in that moment I couldn't say.

“Ah,” Georgie waved off my comment easily, “You’re whatever the step before boyfriend is.”

I hope so.

[xfandomwritingsx]

Bad Girl Lately Part 2 – Bucky Barnes

(gif source unknown)

Description: After a dirty dream, you can’t stop thinking about Bucky.

Warnings/Labels: Language, Smut, Unprotected Sex (don’t do it kids!), Pool Sex (also not recommend for health reasons), Oral (male receiving)

Approx. Word Count: 5,000

A/N: Part 2 is finally up! I hope you all enjoy it! This wraps up this little two-shot, but I hope to write more for Bucky and other Avengers in the future. Inspiration for this came from the song You by Naomi August and THIS imagine, even though it doesn’t come in until the very end.

Part One

You’ve barely been able to sleep. Mostly you’re just watching the clock, wondering if it’s too soon to sneak into Bucky’s room yet. You know tonight will be different. You’re not going to him with the intent of being friendly. Friendly is long gone. There’s no question about his intentions anymore, no way to mistake his actions in the kitchen as just innocent flirting.

You toss over and look at the clock. It’s only 11:30, but you say screw it and throw off your blanket. It’s earlier than your usual time, but not the earliest you’ve ever gone to him. There had been a couple of rogue nights that you’d be in his bed by 10 so you convince yourself this isn’t too weird or eager.

You walk the halls quietly, acutely aware of any noises nearby. You honestly don’t know if the rest of tower knows about you and Bucky’s friendship and how it unfolds at night, but now you suddenly feel as though it’s a very big secret you need to keep. You even catch yourself looking both ways down the hall before knocking on his door.

Your knuckles rap lightly against it, but as you expected, there’s no answer. There rarely ever is. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves before turning the handle and creeping inside.

Except he’s not there.

Your heart sinks a little and the pit in your stomach twists into a sick rejection. His tableside lamp is on, illuminating enough for you to clearly see his bed, still made from this morning and completely untouched. His bathroom door is open, revealing it to be empty as well. You stand there, staring at the room and feeling oddly out of place in it for a few moments before F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice softly fills the void.

“Mr. Barnes wanted me to inform you he’s in the pool room.”

“The pool room?” You wonder aloud.

“Ground floor.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. clarifies causing you to roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I know where it is,” you whisper at her. Almost no one ever uses the pool room. Mostly it’s just used every once in a blue moon for some kind of training. Why would Bucky have gone there?

As you make your way towards the pool room, you feel ridiculous and exposed. You’re wandering around the tower with bare fee, sleep shorts, and a thin t-shirt. The air conditioning is cold on your skin and you find yourself crossing your arms over your chest, running your hands over yourself while you’re standing in the elevator.

When you make it to the pool room door, you pause and take a deep breath, your nerves having returned. Opening the door causes a waft of the heated air in the room to wash over you, the sudden change in temperature making you shiver.

Bucky hasn’t turned on many of the lights, just some of the softer ones and the ones underneath the water, causing the ripple of the surface to reflect in waves on the ceiling. The water is rippling gently and you can see his body beneath the surface, swimming right in the middle along the length of the main pool.

You’re not sure if he notices you’re there or not, but you keep quiet as you walk up to the edge of the pool. He doesn’t resurface once he reaches the end of the pool, but instead taps the wall and spins himself around to kick off and take off the opposite direction. You sit down, dangling your feet into the water and content to watch him.

Graceful has never been a word that crossed your mind when it came to Bucky. Agile, sure, but never graceful. It just didn’t seem to fit, but now as you watch him swim under the water, see him glide so smoothly, there’s no other word for him.

He finally breaks the surface when he reaches the other wall, taking a deep breath in through his mouth. His metal arm slaps down loudly on the tile, anchoring him down while he slicks back his hair and wipes the water from his eyes.

“Evening, Sarge.” You’ve never called him that before, but it seems like you guys are all about things you haven’t done before lately. When his back stiffens, you worry he doesn’t appreciate it. He turns and flashes you a smile over his shoulder though and your worry fades.

“Hey there, doll,” he greets smoothly. “Been there long?” So he hadn’t noticed you.

“Not at all.” You kick your feet lightly in the water. “What brought you down here tonight?” He turns to you, planting his feet on the floor of the pool and standing up, water almost coming up to his shoulders.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he tells you, starting to wade through the water towards you. “Needed to get up and move around, but didn’t want to go to the training room.” You purposely keep your eyes on his, afraid if they drift down you’ll get too distracted by the way the water level is lowering, revealing his chest.

“Didn’t look like you even tried to sleep.” He’s taking his time approaching you and you can see a shift in his eyes, something a little darker coming through.

“Well I’ve had a lot on my mind recently,” he admits. You swallow a lump that’s forming in your throat. The absolute worst thing in the world right now, the most embarrassing thing that could happen, is if he’s thought about it, thought about you, and ultimately decided it’s a bad idea. The look on his face, the intensity in his eyes, and the way he’s still slinking closer certainly doesn’t look like that’s what he’s going to say, but you can’t help yourself from being doubtful.

It’s Bucky. He’s your friend, maybe even your best friend in some ways. He’s an amazing man full of hidden heart and excitement. Not to mention the man is sexy as hell. You’ve seen him open up, seen him be vulnerable and soft and human. He’s the kind of man who would give his life to protect someone he cares about.

You, though? You’re just you. Why the hell would he be interested in you?

The water is down to his waist by the time he’s in front of you. His chest bumps into your knees and he places his hands on the wall by your ass. You’re not really trapped, but you definitely feel cemented down. He tilts his head, biting his lip just slightly.

“What about you?” he asks. “Been thinking about a lot lately?” It takes you a second to find your voice again.

“Not a lot necessarily.” You swallow again and wet your lips, your mouth suddenly very, very dry. “Just… one thing really.” His eyes break away from yours to watch when he brings his hand back from the wall and run his fingers slowly down your thigh.

“And what would that be, doll?” His touch is already making you hot and every little bit of your body is begging you to move, to touch him too, to do something other than simply sit there.

“Pretty sure you’ve pieced it together by now.” Despite his head being tilted down to watch his fingers dancing along your skin, you can still see him smirk as he lets out a small chuckle.

“Well I believe,” he starts, setting his metal hand on your other leg bringing a stark contrast of cold that does nothing to stop your entire body from burning. “You’ve been thinking about me,” Both of his hands slide down to hold onto your knees. “The same way I’ve been thinking about you.” His words are enough to tighten your chest and turn the butterflies loose, but then he pulls on your knees, spreading your legs apart in front of him. You have to physically bite back a moan, but you can’t help the way your back arches slightly or the way you start quivering.

He moves forward between your legs, sliding his hands back up to rest on your hips, neither of you caring about the pool water on him seeping into your shorts. He drags his eyes up your body to look at you and you can safely say all of your doubts are gone.

Finally moving, you reach out and wrap your arms around his neck, urging him closer. He presses against you as much as he can when you slip your legs around his middle, locking your ankles behind him. You tilt your head down, resting your forehead on his as his hands slip underneath your shirt to roam your back.

“And how exactly have you been thinking about me, James?” you tease, the confidence in your voice surprising you. He chuckles again and shakes his head ever so slightly.

“You know,” he says, pausing to lick his lips. “I thought it was my name that did it for me, but I’m pretty sure you could call me anything and turn me on.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say with a small smile. You can’t quite bring yourself to believe that in full, but it’s a flattering thing to hear nonetheless. Your fingers start to entangle in his wet hair, eliciting a small groan from him. “What happened between us?” you whisper, not sure if you’re really asking or just wondering aloud.

“I don’t know, but I’m not complaining,” he answers smoothly before tilting his head up and capturing you in a kiss.

He surprises you by being soft and gentle about it. His lips gently press against yours, moving slowly as though he’s savoring you. As many times as you imagined it, you’d never thought it would be so soft and sensual and breathtaking. It suddenly feels like somuch more than just lust.

He pulls away reluctantly, to give you a chance to breathe and probably a chance to pull away if you so choose. Wanting to make it clear you aren’t going anywhere, you lean down and kiss him this time. You don’t have nearly as much control as he does and your kiss is more frenzied, your hands pulling gently at his hair, ankles urging him even closer to you.

He returns just as hotly, nipping at your bottom lip before his tongue sweeps over it. His hands slip down your body, grab as low on your hips as he can before pulling you forward off the wall’s edge. You gasp when he takes you in his arms and drags you into the water with him, hands shifting underneath your ass to hold you up.

You refuse to break the kiss, your gasp providing the perfect moment for him to slip his tongue into your mouth. You press back at him and let your body slide down to settle your weight more on his hips than his torso. The water covering your bottom half sends goosebumps over your skin and you cling to Bucky to negate the tingles of the slight chill.  

You can feel his dick rising up in his swim trunks, pushing up against your shorts and panties that have molded to your body. He groans when you rock your hips over him, desperate for the friction, the wet material feeling too thick on your body for your liking. He pulls back from your lips and moves to kiss at your neck. With your ankles still locked around him and the water helping to support your weight, he’s able to let go of you a little, dipping his fingers into your waistband and start to tug.

“We shouldn’t do this here,” you manage to get out, forcing your eyes to open and scan the empty room.

“Why?” He licks at your collar bone but pauses the motion of pulling your shorts over your ass.

“Cameras,” is all your voice manages to convey. The whole tower has 24-hour surveillance cameras, not to mention F.R.I.D.A.Y. being everywhere. You really don’t need Tony, or anyone else, rolling through footage and stumbling across you two.

“Not tonight there aren’t,” he whispers against your skin.

“What?” Your mind is fuzzy and it’s hard to focus or make sense of what he’s saying. He pulls back to look at you and you feel the water slowly rising up your body as he drifts you both further into the pool.

“This is one of the only rooms that has the old security system,” he explains. His words are methodic, but his eyes keep drawing to your lips and down your body, clearly not interested in what he’s saying. “I pulled a couple of wires and no more cameras.” You find yourself smirking.

“Pretty confident about tonight, were you?” you tease, enjoying the way his eyes roll a little when you shift your hips on him.

“I was optimistic,” he counters, stumbling over his words when you pull away just so slightly, rubbing your ass against his cock. “And prepared.” His fingers are still in your waistband, fingers clenching the material, waiting for your okay.

“Well c’mon then,” you give it to him, bringing your mouth back to his. There’s a groan of relief from him as he starts to tug again. He can only drag the material as far as your thighs due to you being wrapped around him. He settles for grabbing onto the flesh of your ass, but the kiss gets desperate with teeth and tongues colliding. Your hands move from his hair to his back, fingernails lightly scraping and that’s all that either of you can handle before you’re pushing away from each other, him practically throwing you off so you can both shed clothes.

The water’s up to your shoulders, your thin shirt stuck your body like a second skin. It’s the least of your worries though, your hands plunging under the water to remove your shorts and panties in one swoop. It takes more time and effort than you had wanted and when you’re done, Bucky’s already throwing his trunks out of the pool. They land with a loud squishing plop somewhere by one of the lounge chairs. You chuck your clothes as well as he advances towards you again.

Neither of you can see much of the other’s bodies beneath the water, but both of you seem much more entranced by the sensation of touch instead of sight anyways. His arms snake around your waist and he kisses you again. Your hand immediately reaches down between you to grasp at him.

“Fuck,” he mutters into your mouth, fingers digging into your flesh for just a moment. He twitches at your touch, his cock filling your hand. You simply hold him for a bit, letting your thumb run down the length of him and still trying to wrap your mind around the fact that this time, it’s real.

He keeps his metal hand holding onto your ass, his fleshed one dipping down between your legs. You widen your stance a bit, making it easy for his fingers to find your center. There’s a distinct difference in fluids when he rubs you, your wetness easy to recognize. Your knees go weak and your hand gently squeezes him getting a deep moan out of him.

One of his fingers slips between your folds, gently prodding at your entrance and you force yourself to release him, afraid that your next involuntary squeeze won’t be so gentle. He teases you, running his fingers along you and just barely slipping the tip of his finger in. You hold onto his shoulders like you won’t be able to stand up without him. He brings his mouth to your ear, lips brushing against the shell.

“Something wrong, doll?” he teases you, voice husky and deep. Any words you try to speak get caught in your throat and crushed into broken moans. “You’re so wet,” he growls, cupping you and pressing the heel of his palm onto your clit. You actually feel your legs about to give way on you. Him nipping at your ear isn’t helping.

“Bucky,” you groan. You feel him smirk against the side of your neck as he pushes his middle finger into you. Pleasure courses through you and you grip at his back, holding on tight. He doesn’t thrust like you thought he would, but instead buries his finger far inside out you, managing to just barely brush thatspot. Your knees actually do give out this time, but Bucky keeps you supported and chuckles before licking at your neck.

“Do you like that?” He twists his hand to grind his palm over your clit, shooting more pleasure through you. It’s that moment in movies where the girl would throw her head back and cry out for him, but you can’t manage that. You can only drop your head onto his shoulder and gently bite into his skin.

“Yes,” you whisper. His wiggles his finger inside of you, brushing over that spot and you’re nothing but putty in his hands. “Fuck, Bucky.”

He slowly pushes another finger inside of you, gently stretching and filling you. You shut your eyes and moan. His second finger doesn’t quite reach that pleasure spot inside, but it doesn’t matter. Your body is torn between letting him be slow and torturous like he is or to take control and ride his hand. He shifts his palm again and even if you decided you wanted to ride him, you’re not entirely sure you have the strength. He starts thrusting his two fingers in and out of you, languid and deliberate in his motions.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to feel you,” he tells you, his confession hot on your neck. All you can let out is a whimper. Every time he pushes his fingers back in, he hits that spot your fingers have never been long enough to reach and you can already feel your climax building. “You’re so tight.” He moves his fingers a little faster. “I’m going to fuck you so hard after you cum on my hand.”

You try to say something back to him, to return his dirty words, but he thrusts in again and you practically see stars behind your closed eyelids. You bite down on his shoulder again and he sucks on your neck, both of you most likely leaving marks. He speeds up once more and when his palm grinds on your clit in synchrony with him a thrust, you know you’re about to come undone.

“Bucky,” you moan out, not sure if you’re warning him or begging him.

“Cum for me, doll,” he tells you. He gives you another couple of hard, fast strokes before slamming his fingers into you and snapping the coil in your core. Your mouth opens to let out a scream, but the sound is swallowed up by your orgasm. Stronger than any you’ve had before, it wracks your body, both paralyzing it and setting it on fire. Your pussy tightens around his fingers and your hips give a few weak bucks to help ride it out. “That’s right,” he coaxes, slowly withdrawing his fingers from you.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. He slides both arms around your waist, holding you close to him as you recover. Your legs feel tired and jiggly so you start moving them just to make sure you still can. Bucky places soft kisses on the side of your head and chuckles lightly. “You trying to kill a girl?”

“If you didn’t like it…” he says coyly.

“No, no!” You bring your head up from his shoulder and look at him. “I didn’t say that.” Putting your hands on his face, you pull him down for another kiss.

He lets you lead, starting slow and lazy, but picking up heat as you go. Your hands slip back to his hair, giving a gentle tug and again, earning a soft moan from him. You press against him and feel his hard cock pressing back at you.

“C’mere,” you mumble into his mouth before pulling away and taking him by the hand. You start walking backwards towards the pool stairs, the water level lowering enough that your breasts rise up out of the water. His eyes roam over you, clearly enjoying the way your nipples show through the shirt.

You smirk at him when his eyes lift up to meet yours. You give a pull on his hand, ushering him forwards passed you and sit him on the stairs. It’s your turn to step between his legs and turn him into a mess. You kiss him hotly, one of your hands grasping at his dick, starting to stroke gently.

You move your mouth to his ear and whisper to him, “I want to taste you.” He bites back a moan, but he can’t stop the way his cock twitches in your hand. You give him another stroke, thumb gliding over the tip and Bucky tosses his head back, teeth clenching his bottom lip.

You step back just a bit, stopping your strokes but still holding on. You steady yourself and take a deep breath before submerging yourself under the water. Using your hand as an anchor to guide you, you bring your mouth towards his dick. You toy with the idea of opening your eyes, but chemical burnt eyes isn’t something you feel like dealing with at the moment.

Keeping your mouth shut tightly, you bring your lips to the head of his cock. Sucking in as you part your lips lets you keep a tight seal, keeping the water out of your mouth as you slide down his length. You can’t hear him or see him, but he tenses and nearly bucks his hips upwards and you take it as a good sign.

You don’t expect to be able to hold your breath long, so you only give him two slow bobs, using your tongue to tease him, before picking up your pace. You hold onto his thighs to help keep yourself under the water as you suck on him. The muscle is tense and firm under your touch and a little tingle shoots through you at the realization that you wouldn’t mind that thigh between your legs, grinding on it, riding it. You moan around him and his hips jump just slightly.

About the time your lungs start aching for air, you feel his metal hand on your shoulder, urging you upwards. You rise up over the surface and breathe deep, trying not to take an unattractive gasp of air. He lets you wipe the water from your eyes before pulling you close to him.

“That was hotter than it should have been,” he admits between kisses. “Had to stop you before you sent me over the edge.” He grabs your ass, hoisting you up so you can straddle him. You grind your pussy over him, body tingling with excitement again.

“Bucky,” you moan. “Fuck me.”

He lets out a growl before gripping you tight and turning you over. You’re thankful there’s not a prickly non-slip strip on the smooth surface as he sits your ass on the step and pulls you forward, just barely off the edge. Your legs still wrapped around him, his eyes lustfully look down the small space between you two, admiring the curves of your body.

“I won’t last long,” he warns you, the words nothing more than a whisper. You can see him reach down under the rippling water and take hold of himself to line up with you.

“I don’t care,” you tell him honestly. You know you won’t orgasm again even though your body is still wet and craving him. You just want to feel him inside of you, to feel him come undone in your arms.

He presses his cock against you, moves it up and down slowly, teasingly finding your entrance. He kisses you again, swallowing your moan when he starts to push inside of you. Your body offers no resistance as he slides in, only tightens around him. His lips stop moving against yours, the pleasure pausing his kiss.

You can’t help but let out a small whimper once he’s bottomed out in you. His cock fills and stretches you and a part of you can’t believe you’d never wanted this before. You close your eyes, your forehead against his, forcing yourself to breathe. You can feel him start to twitch inside of you.

“Move,” you tell him firmly.

Bucky doesn’t hesitate. He tries to start slow, keeping his chest to yours and drawing back his hips. You cling to his shoulders, his back, his hair, anything you can grab. Both of his hands are on the step by your hips, supporting his weight and keeping his balance as he fucks you. His slow pace doesn’t last very long, the need for more friction, for more pleasure, for more of you is too much.

He moves faster making you moan and dig your nails into him. He shifts his weight into his left hand, bringing his right to your thigh, needing to touch you. Your back arches and you start to move your hips with him. Obscene moans fall from your lips, only egging him on and making him thrust harder.

This time you do let your head fall back and he bows his head to your neck, his breath hot on your skin. You unlock your legs from him, pulling your knees back and wide, opening your hips and letting him sink just a little further into you. He groans and his hips stutter a little, the image of you opening yourself for him turning him on even more.

“Fuck,” he groans into neck. You rake your nails up his back, bringing them to grip at his neck.

“You feel so good,” you tell him, your pussy hot and aching, the pleasure flooding up your body. You squeeze your cunt around him and a low growl escapes his throat.

“I’m close,” he warns, sucking on your neck. You cart a hand through his hair, giving him one more soft tug like you’ve quickly learned he likes.

“Do it,” you moan. You want to feel him cum, feel him twitch and moan and fill you up. “Cum inside me, James.” He pumps his hips harder, faster, desperate to fulfill your request. His fingers dig into your thigh and he whispers your name.

His thrusts sputter once more before he drives himself into you, burying himself as deep as he can and cumming. You both let out low moans, the feel of his climax shooting electricity through both of you. His teeth scrape over your neck and choked sounds of pleasure fall from him as his muscles tense.

You sigh happily as you loosen your grip on him. He’s breathing heavily, coming down from his high. He slowly starts to relax, his fingers straightening out over your thigh and his body slinking down on top of you. You kiss his face and gently stroke your hands over his skin, content to stay there wrapped up in him as long as he wants.

When he does finally look up at you, he’s dazed and smiling. The look is contagious and you find yourself smiling back at him. He kisses you once more, briefly and chastely, before starting to straighten out his body. He withdraws out of you with care, watching you for any signs of you being in pain, but there are none. There’s only the feeling of being empty and his cum leaking out into the water. You’d feel worse about the cleanliness of it if people actually used the pool.

“That was…” he pauses, struggling to find the right word.

“Perfect,” you supply hopefully. He smiles and nods to you.

“Yeah, yeah it was.” He brushes some of your hair away from your face, leaving water dripping down your cheek. “Should have done that sooner.” You laugh at him.

“You should have made a move,” you tell him, leaning back and stretching your body out a little. It’s his turn to chuckle.

“I think it took us both a little while to even consider it,” he admits. He wades through the water, moving back away from you and giving you more space to stretch out.

“How exactly am I going to get back to my room?” you ask, looking around for your shorts. “All my clothes are soaked.” Bucky follows your eyes and smirks a little.

“Why don’t we rinse off and then we can worry about getting you to whichever room you want.”

---

You use the pool showers to clean the chlorine off your skin. They’re connected to the pool room, inside a tiled rectangle with multiple showerheads. It’s meant to imitate a public pool for multiple people to use at once while still in their bathing suit. It feels a little strange and vulnerable to be fully naked inside of it, but you’re not exactly worried about someone unwelcomingly coming in.

You’re using generic bar soap to clean your body and as a makeshift shampoo. You’re washing it out of your hair when you hear the door open. You stop yourself from jumping, knowing it’s just Bucky. You wipe the water and soap from your eyes and look over your shoulder.

He’s standing in the doorway, dressed in just his boxers, hair still wet with his eyes washing over you. It dawns on you it’s the first time he’s actually seeing you naked. Earlier tonight your body was distorted by water and a wet t-shirt. He takes his time letting his eyes drift down your back. Feeling bold, you slowly turn around so you’re facing him.

His eyes watch you, his gaze an admiration coated in lust. You bite your lip and smirk at him, trying to stop the blush that’s trying to rise up onto your cheeks. No one has ever looked at you the way he is right now. It sends a warmth through you and you’re not really sure if it makes you want to jump him or hold him.

“Coming to join me?” you tempt. His lips turn upwards and holds up your clothes in his hand.

“Threw these in a dryer for you,” he tells you. “They’re not completely dry, but I think it’s enough for you to get through the halls at least.” You turn off the shower and reach for the towel hanging nearby. “Although I’m not against keeping you naked.” You have to laugh.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I think I’ll take the clothes.” He watches as you wrap the towel around yourself, taking in your body before it disappears beneath the big, fluffy material. You tie a knot between your breasts and wring out your hair before sauntering up to. “Thanks, Bucky.” You take the clothes from his hand and smile up at him.

His eyes soften and he reaches out to cradle your cheek with his right hand. He pulls you close and brings his lips to yours. The kiss is soft and sweet and you find yourself drowning in him. If you had any fears that this was a one time thing just for sex, the kiss makes it clear he has other intentions.

You sigh happily when he pulls away. You stop yourself from leaning into him, trying not to get him wet any more than he already is even though you know he wouldn’t care. He presses a kiss to your forehead before stepping back.

“You’re welcome back to my room if you want,” he offers, a slight shyness coming out, as if he’s worried you’ll reject the idea.

“I’d like that,” you reassure him, a smile gently tilting his lips. “Let me get dressed and we can head that way?” He nods and swipes his thumb over your cheekbone once more before letting go of you completely.

“Meet me outside.” He disappears out of the showers and leaves to dress in privacy.

It’s hard to keep the smile off your face. A few months ago, hell even a few weeks ago, you never would have thought you’d be here. Now you can’t believe you’d never thought about it before that dream. You quickly put your clothes on and go to meet up with him, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and have him wrap his arms around you.

[delicrieux]

hate you, love you

PAIRING: draco malfoy x reader

summary: (name) and draco had been sworn enemies for years, but that really was just their strange way of confessing love for one another.

also, requested by @hufflepuff-chan​:  Can I request a Draco x hufflepuff reader scenario were the reader has hella guts. She hates him and the feelings are equal. Then they have a huge fight (please make it really angsty and sad) and then he crosses the line and the reader is dumbfounded and left empty. She stops attending their shared classes and doesn't eat in the great hall and isolates herself. And after some time they bump into each other as she heads to her common room and they fight once again and he grabs and kisses her. Extra points if its a heated kiss. Happy ending of course. Bless you

a/n : changed it a bit. ALSO THANK YOU MUCH TO MY WIFE @thehogwartsdormitories FOR THIS AESTHETIC (I LIVE) AND YOU BETTER CHECK HER OUT O R E L S E!!!

feedback is always appreciated xoxo

MASTERLIST.

I’m beginning to recognise that real happiness isn’t something large and looming on the horizon ahead but something small, numerous and already here. The smile of someone you love. A decent breakfast. The warm sunset. Your little everyday joys all lined up in a row.

That was your perspective, coloured in a rosy shade of blush and the friendly yellow uniform of your House. Hufflepuff has the reputation of being the House that accepts, loves, and cherishes everyone that gives them the time of they. Therefore, most assume that every single person in said House is naïve, lacks backbone, and is too idealistic. Too kind, the other Houses rave, you will only get hurt with that sort of mentality!...

Since when is being too kind a bad thing? Happiness needn’t be some grand gesture. Small things matter more. Happiness is giving, not receiving, not fighting. Happiness is peace, is what you think with a smile.

Of course, that beautiful mentality is promptly discarded when you meet a certain Slytherin boy that gets on your nerves more than anyone you have ever met.

You have no trouble dishing out what he rightfully deserves for being a prick. You don’t even try to understand him, unlike you do with others. You refuse to give him your time of day. And while yes, you are considered a nice person by some, you have guts and you are unafraid of confrontation like so many from your house.

Bickering is a constant sight between you and Draco Malfoy. Your friends have grown quite tired of it, really. There hadn’t been an instance in years where the two of you could sit in the same classroom in silence, without firing some sort of antagonistic remark at one another. You cannot recall how you came to hate him. Your first year at Hogwarts was relatively tame, and you hadn’t made your mortal enemy yet. Perhaps you had performed superb in charms, brewed a better potion, or flown more skilfully on a broom than he. Whatever it was, one day you awoke to a letter addressed to you. Curious and a bit frightened, you opened it to find only one sentence scribbled at a piece of parchment.

Get out of my school.

Is all it said, signed by Draco Malfoy himself with his awful eleven year old signature. You had found him after Herbology, putting away his books alone, and making sure his lackeys were away for the moment you walked up to him and hit him on the arm.

“Ow!” He had whined, sending you a glare, “The hell is your problem, (Lastname)?”

Your eyes had widened, “The hell is my—MY problem? You’re the one sending letters telling me to leave Hogwarts!” Noting your frustration, he had smirked.

“Yeah? Well it’s because you should. Face it, you’ll never achieve anything. Best quit while you still have some dignity left.”

That was the day a spiteful fire was born. There was nothing in this world that could make you like Draco Malfoy. This hate was rooted too deeply to simply be torn out.

Alas, years continued with the same model. He notices you walking in the hallways and comments on your lack of poise, whilst you flip him off. In class, students take bets who will attack the other first. It is almost a dance, sort of, a verbal battle that is both fiery and graceful at the same time. While you and he have exchanged numerous insults, neither of you have gone far enough to seriously hurt one another. You hadn’t said a word about his family’s Death Eater status, and in turn he not once mentioned your muggle birth, even if it was the first thing anyone would assume he would make fun of. You fought and teased, but with strange respect. Rumours started to float around that the two of you were secretly in love, merely hiding your feeling behind a charade of hatred. Your friends believed it and never failed to mention it to you. You had dismissed every single thing they dared to comment on.

That is why your heart nearly explodes from hurt when he calls you a ‘Mudblood’.

It had been late in the evening and he was acting odd, odder than his usual pretentious shenanigans. Being a Prefect, or his long lost soulmate as some whispered, you grew concerned when you couldn’t see his obnoxious face during dinner. In turn, too preoccupied with catching him wandering somewhere in the shadows of the Great Hall, you hadn’t touched your meal and left on an empty stomach as soon as you realised he was not coming. Your friends had called after you, but true to your character, when it came to Draco hardly anything else mattered.

The hallways were quiet and empty. Some portraits had already gone to bed, some chatted idly about the dreams they will soon have. You kept your eyes peeled on every moving object or a randomly passing student. You really had no clue where to look for him, or why you were doing so in the first place. His absence tugged on your heartstrings. As if your body has come to despise him so that he was fused with you, in a way. Tired, disappointed, and with an upcoming headache, you decided to head to the kitchens to grab a snack before sneaking into the common room.

Was it luck or something opposite of that, you had passed a classroom in the dungeons that had the door left ajar. You caught a glimpse of his shadowy face and abruptly stopped. It was instinct, really. You were hardly thinking what you were doing, and before long you were asking him, genuinely, your voice void of sarcasm or any ill intent, if he was alright. It scared him, your question. It made him pale, if that was even possible, and stiffen. Surprise shone in his features, but soon that morphed into unfiltered disgust.

“Get out of my sight you mudblood.”

But he does not look at you as he says this. It is a hiss directed at the cupboard with potion bottles, yet it pierces your heart all the same. It is your time to freeze, to lock your jaw and forget to breathe. Your whole train of thought is wiped clean, as if nothing had existed prior and nothing will exist after this moment. Then it all comes crashing down in the most painful way. What respect? What concern? What were you even thinking? He is nothing but a brat, an evil and vile Slytherin prick wanting nothing more but to belittle and hurt you.

You suddenly feel like crying. But you don’t allow yourself to appear so weak, so affected by his comment.

“…Forget I said anything.” You whisper, your voice hollow. With a quick step back you exit the classroom, your eyes never leaving his distraught form, before your fingers grasped the handle and shut the door harshly.

You didn’t have it in you to call him out anymore. Your resolve to destroy him wilted like a daisy seized by the cold wind. You avoided him all together, opting to spend your time in the Common Room or Library, catching up on studies and hanging out with people that did not care about your mudblood status. You rescheduled your classes so you would not have to face him. You pretended that, if you could delete him from the pretty picture of your life, this pain would go away.

It is a shame, really. You had always expected the two of you to end up being friends. Perhaps you bought into the gossip too much.

It is early morning when you run into him. It had been nearly two months since you had faced him properly, and you feel no less prepared or at ease. You gulp. He stares at you as if he had seen a ghost, though soon he looks away shamefully. Silence. Neither of you move from your respective places. He must have just left the Common Room…What a coincidence, so have you.

You press your books closer to your chest. The past you would have flung them at him, chased him off. The present you does not even have the strength to move. He really hurt you, he knows this. He is sorry, though he is unsure of how he should even approach you now. At first you were at even grounds, tied by hatred. Now the two of you are tied by hurt. He would gladly go back to you hating him than seeing you almost afraid of him.

“This probably means nothing to you, but…” He starts hesitantly, watching your expression morph with hostility, “I am sorry. For what I said. I crossed a line, and…” He is unsure how to finish, so he lets his words hang. His ego be damned. Even he can admit to a fault sometimes.

You shake your head, “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“But I do. Mean it. I do mean it.” Draco says, now more confident, “You don’t deserve to be called that. Not by me or anyone else.” Awkwardly, he runs his fingers through his hair, “To be honest, I…I’m not even sure why we fight all the time. And this year has been…a mess and I took it out on you.”

You give him a sad smile, “In another life we might’ve been friends.” You add quietly, “I accept your apology.” Maybe what the other Houses say is right, maybe being too kind is a bad things, “Now, if you’ll excuse me—“ You turn to walk away but he grabs your hand with a desperate ‘Wait!’. You try not to think about how big his hand is, completely engulfing yours. How warm it sis, too. Slowly, you turn to look at him.

“Can you give me a second chance?” He asks you, his eyes boring into your own. You feel heart rising to your cheeks. Confused and unsure how to process this, your brows knit together softly, “I think we can still be friends, and…” His eyes wander down to where your hands connect perfectly, “And…maybe…” Draco is having trouble wording what he wants to say, but you understand him, “Maybe—“

“Let’s start with just friends, alright?” You ask gently, a small smile tilting the corners of your lips. He nods, letting go of your hand but his fingers linger as you part.

“I don’t even deserve as much.” He says, more to himself than you. That all soon melts away, as he smirks and eyes you knowingly, in all his prick-ish glory, “Try not to run away from me anymore, (Lastname). I’ll see you at Charms.”

You can’t help but smile. Back to the good old days, is it?

“Can’t wait to knock your ego down a bunch. It had obviously grown with no one there to show you your place.” You bite back, this time with a beaming smile.

Your relationship had changed drastically from there on out. Your friends took a collective sigh of relief, as the two of you were back to your usual banter. His did, too. But they soon were surprised once more at the sight of you…chatting? Instead of screaming at each other the two of you now bickered in whispers. Instead of frowns and sneer, sneaky smiles and smirks replaced them. Instead of him sitting at the other side of the class, so he could always plainly see you and mock you, he now took a seat next to you and neither of you minded, nor felt the need to explain why.

Before long, one rosy evening at the astronomy tower he had kissed you, and you had kissed back.

Your mentality was right all along. Happiness is the little things. Happiness is his dorky laugh. Happiness is his strange sense of humour. Happiness was there all along, but you never knew. Well, now you do. And you relish in this happiness as you hold his hand and wait for the upcoming summer.

(IN BOLD ARE THOSE I COULDN’T TAG)

forever tags: @scarletraine- @brahwhytho- @smilesfromabove- @pharaohkiller - @victoriaelvendorkweasley-@onehellofdevilotaku- @eyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy- @phillipas00- @xxcrowfeatherxx- @cupcakestyleshood- @invisibilityrocks- @nephalem67 - @chwechwechwe - @porpentyna - @lesbianheartbreaker - @banjosanjo - @madswheelers - @sombodymaybeawatson - @disneyfanatic77 - @superanonymousreader - @aliypop​

[its-love-u-asshole]

No Use Crying over Spilled Cola [fic]

Pairings: Bokuto Koutarou/Akaashi Keiji

Summary: Sneaking into an R-rated movie should not have been this difficult for two sirens, but here they were. Tsukishima always had to make things difficult. Then again, maybe Bokuto should be thanking him this time around...

Or: Akaashi was not expecting his ears to bleed that day, but life is full of the unexpected. 

Prequel to Slipping Underneath 

Rating: T

Tags: soulmates, mythology/sirens AU, mini prequel to slipping underneath

Note: ....I know I said the next part of this verse would be semishira (and I am writing that!!), but I had to write a quick gift for @kirinokisu​ , because she's the sweetest and also an amazing writer! Please go check out her stuff *_* Ju, I know you liked this verse and liked the bokutsukki especially, so I hope you enjoy this ; ; I've actually never really written bokuaka before so this feels weird but hopefully their characterizations aren't too off ^^ iluuu and stay awesome <3 

AO3

They say sirens were majestic creatures.

The words 'divine beauty' and 'youthfulness' were often encountered when studying the mythical beings, and to Bokuto, even the term 'siren' carried a certain degree of unmistakable grace and deadliness.

He was proud of it. Grateful for his lineage.

Sirens were straight up badass, and when his voice finally perfected itself, he was going to have the best voice of them all.

Bokuto had been quite enamored with this part of his identity at a young age, still was. But now, at the ripe age of seventeen, he knew the complete truth.

This complete truth, while still very cool, made him want to throw the whole mythology section of the library away.

None of those dusty ass scholars ever had to watch him crouch willingly on the dirty mall floor, head peeking out every which way while his braces wearing, french fry of a best friend stood beside him.

Divine Beauty. Pft.

Don't get him wrong, Bokuto thought he was hot as fuck. But this...was not his proudest moment.

But it wasn't all his fault.

"Kou, c'mon, let's go home. It's not happening," Tsukishima said, arms crossed and his eyes defiantly fixed on the ground. The blond stood firm, rigid almost, the loudness of the mall around them obviously stressing him out more than he'd care to admit. He hadn't moved in about five minutes, more than satisfied with arguing instead.

So basically, he wasn't helping at all.

"No way!" Bokuto whined, and he paid no attention to his best friend's continued complaints. The blond was supposed to be keeping watch. He heard Tsukishima groan, but it didn't deter Bokuto's surveillance of the area.

The bustle around them rang in his ears, the loud chatter and footsteps on cheap tile mixing with the overload of smells. Popcorn, nachos.... he wondered if Tsukishima would go splitsies with him.

Usually he did, as long as Bokuto got candy too...maybe they'd have those butterscotch ones this time...or maybe--

"This isn't going to work," Tsukishima hissed, finally crouching down beside Bokuto as they stared ahead.

The promise land is upon us...

Well, they had to get in first. And given how Tsukishima was being, Bokuto would have to work some serious magic to accomplish that. Normally, Bokuto would've been more considerate of Tsukishima's anxiety levels, but he was not letting the blond compromise this mission.

Their mission. The only mission one could possibly have, the mission to fulfill their dream of seeing the newest horror film in theaters before any of their classmates.

Yeah, worthy aspirations. Some 'getting into med school' type shit.

Bokuto huffed, his eyes staying trained on the movie theater doors as large groups of people filtered in, laughing and eager to see the newest blockbuster. The trailers would be starting in about ten minutes, and Bokuto did not like missing those.

He'd rather die.

"It would totally work if you'd stop being such a worry wart," Bokuto shot back, pouting to himself. His mood was gradually slipping as time became more and more constrained, and lucky he was here with Tsukishima and not some other classmate.

Bokuto was not really in the mood to feign smiles or content when on the inside he was freaking out.

(Not that he ever was able to reel in his emotions, but...with Tsukishima at least he didn't have to be embarrassed about it. Mostly.)

"Well you're being a baby," Tsukishima said.

"You are."

"Oh man, you came hard with that clapback," Tsukishima said, feigning hurt as he adjusted his glasses. If they'd had more time, Bokuto might've pointed out how huge they looked on his face but fine. He'd be civil.

Tsukishima scoffed as Bokuto stuck out his tongue, nodding towards the ticket check-in. "There's no way we're getting passed them with our Disney movie tickets."

"We could, if you just--"

"I'm not singing!"

Bokuto stood then, nearly knocking Tsukishima over (ha). Eight minutes to trailers.

He threw his hands up, because he knew for a fact Tsukishima's worries weren't ethical in nature. As if.

The blond cheated his way out of free candy each time they went to the movies, he was a pure scoundrel.

The plan had been simple, and it wasn't like they were trying to commit murder. First, they purchase tickets for an age appropriate movie (they weren't thieves ok?), then they'd simply sneak into the movie they actually wanted to see. Only problem was getting past the ticket check. The theater had gotten really strict about making sure people went into the correct room, and Bokuto knew he and Tsukishima would be watched the whole time. After all, they did look like punk high schoolers. Not even Tsukishima's braces and nerd attire could erase the suspicion. He also knew the Disney movie they'd actually paid for was in the opposite direction of the horror film screen room, so they'd stick out for sure. And on top of it all, they looked too young to make a convincing pair of adults.

So, the solution was simple.

Tsukishima would sing softly under his breath, mildly dazing the staff enough for them to slip past. Perfect.

(Also yes, Bokuto could admit that at this point in time, Tsukishima was a bit more experienced than him when it came to his vocal prowess, but it wouldn't last forever.)

Bokuto grabbed Tsukishima's shoulders, and the blond didn't look shocked in the least bit. "You did it all the time when you and Akiteru went to the movies!"

"Yeah, exactly! Akiteru would always be there," Tsukishima said, eyes darting to the side. As nervous as he was, his cheeks held a light flush, like he was mortified to admit his own shortcomings.

Right, because Tsukishima carried the air of confidence, but really he was just as unsure of things as Bokuto sometimes.

Tsukishima glared at Bokuto's shirt, not making eye contact as his voice dropped to a low mumble. "I...I don't know if I can do it without him here. He usually coaches me through it and I don't know...it's comforting when he's here."

"Wow, lame."

"You know what--"

Bokuto laughed then, waving his hands between them in case Tsukishima actually decided to maim him. "Okay, okay, I get it."

And he did. Akiteru had a weird knack for making someone feel like they could do anything. Hell, Bokuto would jump off a cliff if Akiteru smiled at him and told him he'd most definitely survive.

And they said Akiteru didn't inherit any siren abilities...lies.

"Huh, guess I'll just have to do it then," Bokuto said, hands on his hips. He felt much better about this now. Although he knew Tsukishima had more practice and skill, like he'd said, how hard could it be? It would be fine, right? He only needed to sing a few quiet notes and they'd be home free!

Why hadn't they done this from the start?

Bokuto was probably so used to Tsukishima competing with him that he wasn't used to having the other step down.

This feels great.

Or it did, until he heard Tsukishima's piss poor job at hiding his laugh.

Bokuto glared as the blond's shoulders shook, and he angrily pushed his bangs out of his eyes (man, one day he'd have to really figure out what to do with his hair. Spikes would be cool....), and Tsukishima laughed harder.

Forget the trailers, you're going to learn today.

But before Bokuto could pounce, Tsukishima's smirk cut his spirit in two, and he faltered. Noooo.

"Kou, you can't sing quietly to save your life," Tsukishima said, his show of haughtiness coming back for a reunion special. "You're gonna make the whole movie theater wanna jump your bones and I'm not in the mood to diffuse that situation. I will leave you behind."

The. Nerve.

Bokuto balked, his protests reduced to nothing but choked syllables and pathetic cries. "I--no you--that's--ugh! I can so be quiet!"

To punctuate the statement's authenticity, Bokuto stomped his foot against the floor. Nailed it.

At the shout, a few people walking nearby jumped, and Tsukishima laughed again at Bokuto's sheepish smile.

Okay, so perhaps being reserved wasn't a strong suit of his, but what was the point of singing quietly in most situations! His voice sounded amazing, and he wanted to share it. Plus, he'd never find his soulmate unless he sang as loud as possible!

So, to summarize: forget what Tsukishima said.

Of course, Bokuto couldn't ignore his best friend altogether.

"Yeah right, we're going to end up watching this Disney movie and you know it," Tsukishima said, his smile smug as he waved the ticket in Bokuto's face. Never.

"Maybe you want to see the Disney movie," Bokuto shot back, his childish jab hardly causing a dent in Tsukishima's defense. Had to try.

"Maybe I do, but that's not the point." Tsukishima checked his phone then, and his smile got wider, as if reading Bokuto's mind. "Huh, look at this. Five minutes to the trailers."

You're playing with fire here pal.

But Bokuto wouldn't be swayed so easily. He might've been susceptible to 'moods' sometimes, but with Tsukishima he would fight until the end. The blond deserved it.

I'll show you.

Bokuto could already feel it, the hum building in his throat. The usual excitement and anticipation which came with singing...it was like a high, better than his favorite food or fresh air. He could feel the melody in his veins, the notes begging to be let out, an urge he'd never fully be able to explain with words alone. His heart and mind simply knew when the music was coming, when the opportunity to use his gift was upon him, and who was he to hold back?

Bokuto pushed his hair back again, standing tall and not paying attention to anything except the song inside his soul.

"I'll prove it," Bokuto said with a smirk, and he could see the exact moment when Tsukishima realized what he was about to do. The blond's protests fell on deaf ears.

"Kou--Koutarou, wait, stop-"

Too late. Bokuto forced his voice to a reasonable octave, or what he hoped was a quieter one than his normal voice, and let the notes flow from his lips. His brow furrowed at the sound, because while it was beautiful, more than any human's voice could hope to be, it was still clearly immature for a siren.

He watched as Tsukishima glared at him, but Bokuto only took it as a sign of victory.

At least, until he heard a sudden crash behind him.

He gasped, startled, his voice breaking away into nothing, and turned to find the source of the noise. Maybe he hadn't been as quiet as he'd hoped...it was known to happen. Guys would run into each other trying to approach him for more of the intoxicating tune. Bokuto winced to himself. He sure hoped it wasn't too bad this time.

Instead of two bleary eyed wannabe lover boys though, Bokuto found another teen sprawled out on the floor, his popcorn all over the place. His soda wasn't in much better shape, fizzing in a large puddle on the white tile, and Bokuto knew he'd royally fucked up.

The guilt would've been festering, if not for the awe which overtook it.

The boy in front of him had the most beautiful face Bokuto had ever seen, regardless of the small breakout on his left cheek. His limbs were long, his frame lanky, like he hadn't exactly come into his body yet, and the perturbed face he had on was by no means attractive. It looked more like the other had caught a whiff of dog shit, and his dark hair was littered with popcorn kernels, his pant leg stained with cola.

Bokuto thought he must've been an angel.

Oh shit, if he starts flirting with me I'm totally gonna pop a boner, shitfuck--

"Uh...Kou," Tsukishima whispered, squinting at the boy in front of them. The blond stepped closer to Bokuto, peering around him at the scene as people walked by. Luckily, none of the other mall goers had been affected. Good thing no one else had been close enough apart from the angel.

The weird thing about that was...the angel wasn't trying to get Bokuto's attention, or 'jump his bones' as Tsukishima had put it.

He just...stared at the floor, brow furrowed and expression wary. His eyes were clear, not spellbound in the slightest, and he cautiously reached up, patting his ears.

For whatever reason, it sent Bokuto into action. He sprang forward, and screw volume control. "I'm so sorry! Holy crap, I...I didn't mean to...are you okay?"

The other nodded slowly, but didn't reply otherwise, and Bokuto wondered if he'd actually heard anything he'd said. Bokuto reached down, lifting the other boy up effortlessly until he was on his feet. He tried not to think about how nice the other smelled up close (minus the popcorn), or how pretty and shale colored his eyes were.

Shit.

"Seriously are you okay?" Bokuto began rambling again, ignoring the flush on his face and Tsukishima's cheeky grin (meanie). "I can buy you new food, or whatever you want...I'm really--"

"What..." The other's dazed question stopped Bokuto's tirade, and the voice was like music to Bokuto's ears, so calm and pleasant. Not loud or boisterous like his, but nice and smooth all the same. "What was that?"

The boy shook the last of his confusion out of his eyes, and his expression turned more neutral. If Bokuto didn't know any better, he'd say the other looked disinterested, but the warmth and curiosity swimming in his eyes was a big giveaway.

Double shit, I'm screwed.

Now, Bokuto could feel guilty about gawking at people other than his soulmate, but he figured all was fair until he actually met his one true love. Plus, how could someone not be taken by this guy?

"What...was what?" Bokuto choked out, and god he was going to kick Tsukishima for laughing later.

The angel squinted, as if second guessing himself. "Didn't you hear that noise?"

Well, at least it made Tsukishima's laughter stop. Bokuto looked over to his friend, and the blond only shrugged.

Goddammit Kei, you're supposed to know this stuff.

It was a doozy though. Since when could humans remember hearing their voices? There must've been exceptions, but Bokuto didn't know of any himself, and had no idea how to rationalize it away.

"Um...what noise?" Playing dumb was the one real option. He could practically hear Tsukishima face palm behind him.

"I don't know...it sounded like..." The angel shook his head, and Bokuto quickly got ready to receive the praise.

Enchanting? Melodious? Grand?

"Like two thousand can openers going off at once," the other said, no a hint of hesitation present in his voice as he scowled into the distance.

….specific.

Tsukishima fucking lost it.

While Bokuto's brain tried to reboot itself, the blond strode up, bowing quickly. "Tsukishima Kei. The oaf here with the can opener voice is Bokuto Koutarou." The words 'you're now my favorite person' went unsaid.

Bokuto didn't have the brain power to dispute that.

"Akaashi Keiji," Akaashi said, but the confusion hadn't left his features. "What do you mean his voice?"

Sometimes Tsukishima reminded Bokuto of a cat, mischievous in his own way, and Bokuto wondered who could ever be able to match the blond's particular brand of viciousness. The blond smirked, eyes not leaving Akaashi. "That's what you heard. Bokuto was trying to sing."

The emphasis on 'trying' finally snapped Bokuto out of it, and he turned on Tsukishima, ready to fight. Tsukishima's smile didn't let up. "I was singing! I was great too, you're just jealous! It's not my fault Akaashi didn't like--"

Bokuto's breath caught, and he choked on the words, the realization dawning on him.

Tsukishima arched a brow, triumphant and annoyed all at once.

Oh.

Oh.

"No way," Bokuto whispered to himself, distraught.

Tsukishima just sighed. "Apparently yes way. Ugh, gross."

Bokuto's mouth hung open, and Tsukishima promptly closed it.

This is the best day of my life.

The joy overshadowed the dread he felt towards Tsukishima too, since Bokuto knew the blond would never let him live this down. There's no way. No way, no way, no--

Bokuto spun around, facing Akaashi again, and while Bokuto knew Tsukishima didn't exactly like the whole soulmate thing, Bokuto would dare the blond to deny the obvious spark which came when Akaashi's eyes met his.

Judging from the way he heard the blond gag, Bokuto knew he was right.

Bokuto felt the shock, like a bass drop, the beat of his life and heart no doubt syncing up with Akaashi's, whether the other knew it or not. Akaashi notably tried to keep his expression stern and unaffected, but Bokuto's thousand-watt grin must've gotten to him at some point, because the raven's cheeks heated up a few seconds later.

Bokuto completely forgot about the trailers.

When it seemed their little staring contest wouldn't end any time soon, Tsukishima sighed, tapping Akaashi's shoulder until he looked his way. Aw.

"Hey, I'm assuming you were going to see a movie, right?" Tsukishima asked, gesturing to the mess of soggy popcorn and soda. Bokuto kept staring, on cloud nine with Akaashi's every move.

Akaashi nodded, completely lost. "Yes, but my ticket is currently dissolving in my drink."

And before Bokuto could speak, Tsukishima leapt into action. Bokuto could never say the blond wasn't a good friend.

"Perfect. Bokuto will reimburse you." Shamelessly, Tsukishima dug around in his pocket, and then handed Akaashi his movie ticket before sauntering off (to where, only fate knew). "Have fun losers."

Bokuto didn't bother watching his friend leave, but secretly promised to buy him whatever dessert he wanted next time they went out. Savings be damned.

Akaashi shook his head again, glancing at the new ticket stub, and shrugged. The pull must've been mutual, that or Akaashi didn't see Bokuto as a threat or possible murderer. For that, he was thankful.

Bokuto sighed as Akaashi threw him a soft smile, unable to help the dreaminess from seeping through. Akaashi held up his ticket, but it didn't help to obscure the brightness of his blush. "Shall we?"

Bokuto blinked, waiting to wake up from his dream, but never wanting it to end. Oh well. If it was a dream, he'd stay in it for as long as he could.

And somehow, Akaashi's question felt more loaded than it should've, demanding explanations and answers which Bokuto would happily give in time.

For now though, he'd enjoy the other's company for the first night of many (he hoped), and try his best to tame the new song inside his head.

It was a shame though. The one person who inspired it would never be able to hear it, and Bokuto felt a small inkling of disappointment as he walked with Akaashi to the theater.

But then again, Bokuto didn't give up hope, and as Akaashi glanced back at him with those gorgeous eyes, he knew he never would.

One day, he thought, definitely one day.