Hello!! Can I ask for a friend zoned MC feeling unrequited love to the RFA + V & Unknown which ends in a "I like you god damn it" confession?? And they like you back?? Thank youuuu (: I love your blog btw
Author’s note: sorry this is so rushed I have to post Saeran/V’s separate bc this is so long || So some of these aren’t as much confessions as
they are cute, BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY THEM NONETHELESS ♥
“To the left, MC!!!! NO, YOUR OTHER LEFT!”
You smashed the buttons of your
controller down, hoping something good would happen
I have no idea what I’m doing.
“I think I just died.”
You set your controller down and
glanced over at your best friend
His eyes were glued to the screen,
tongue sticking slightly out just like it always does when he’s focused on
The light from the monitor flashed
white and Yoosung jerked forward, causing your knees to collide
You felt your face heat up at the
skin on skin connection
“Not now, MC, I think I can win
Yoosung leaned over in front of
you, trying to get a better angle of the screen
You got a whiff of Yoosung’s shampoo and your heart skipped a beat
I don’t know how he smells this good after playing video games all day.
You involuntarily reached out and
ran your fingers through his hair
For a second you though you felt
Yoosung leaning into your touch
But that’s probably my imagination…
The screen flashed again and
Yoosung turned around to look at you
He was still leaning over on your
side, your faces now inches apart
Yoosung gave you a close eyed
…That damn smile.
When you didn’t respond to him,
“What’s wrong, MC?”
You summoned every ounce of
strength you had and closed the gap between his lips and yours
Before Yoosung could react, you
“U-Uhhh,” you looked at Yoosung’s bright
red face, “Congrats on the win?”
Do it!! Tell him how you feel!
It was just another average friend
date with Zen
You, him, a small bistro, hundreds of fans all begging to get a
picture with him
Just a normal day
“Zen, over here!!!”
“Sorry about the flash, I just
HAVE to make sure it’s a good picture.”
“Are you stupid??? ALL of Zen’s pictures are good!”
You turned to look at your friend,
who was soaking up as much of the limelight as possible
He stood up and tapped on his
glass with a fork
“Ladies, ladies, you can all get a picture with your Zenny, just be patient!”
“Since when are you theirs?” you mumbled, crossing your
Zen glanced back at you
Crap, did he hear me?
You gave him a big smile and a
That ought to throw him off his tracks.
Zen turned back to the sea of fans
“I’ll be outside in ten minutes,
so if everyone could make a line outside, that would be perfect!”
In the blink of an eye the
restaurant was empty again, a flood of screaming girls and guys retreating
outside to wait for their prince
A sigh of relief escaped your lips as Zen sat down
“Are you mad at me?”
You looked down at your food and
began messing with it
“Don’t play with your food, MC.”
He sighed, “If you aren’t going to
answer my question I’ll just go outside right now.”
Zen put his hands on the table and
started to push himself up
You grabbed his arm and pulled him
“I’m not mad at you,” you sighed, “I’m
just mad that we never get to spend time together like we used to.”
Zen put his hand on top of yours and
leaned in toward you
“What do you mean? I see you all
the time up at work!!”
You stared at his hand
He’s touching me.
He’s holding my hand.
ZEN is holDING MY FREAKING-
You awkwardly coughed and pulled
your hand away
“Y-Yeah, uh no… what were we
Zen leaned back in his chair
“Never mind… let’s just eat.”
He lifted up his glass of water to
“I love you.”
You pushed away from the table and
“You spit all over my shirt,” you
gestured down to the wet material that clung to your chest, “my WHITE shirt!!’
“W-Well you said that you… you
And all of sudden, the floor
became veryyyyy interesting
I wish I had the power of invisibility…
“MC, look at me.”
While you were contemplating
superpowers, Zen had taken the time to walk over and stand in front of you
“Nah, I think I’m good,” you continued looking down, “the floor
happens to be my favorite shade of… brown.”
A soft and warm hand tilted your
chin up, and your eyes met his scarlet ones
“I love you too.”
You slowly leaned in-
“ZENNY, WE’RE WAITING~”
Zen stepped back and glanced at
the girl peeking through the front door
There was the click of a camera
and a squeal, and she was gone again
Zen scratched the back of his head
“Sorry, I guess it’s-whoa whoa WHOA, what are you doing????
You flung your wet shirt over the
back of the chair and shivered
“Man, this place is kinda cold,”
you looked up and smirked, “then again, I am wearing just a bra.”
You heard a very inhumane noise come from the back of Zen’s throat
“The fans can wait.”
Zen grabbed your wrist and pulled
you into his chest, his lips crashing against yours
The beast was NOT contained that
On your way out of the RFA
building you glanced at your watch
Damn… it’s already 11pm? I stayed waaaaayyyy too late.
When you walked past the break room
you heard the familiar sound of the copy machine clunking turning on
“…damn Jumin and his damn
I wonder if that’s…
“-with his damn cat and the damn
Yup, that’s Jaehee.
You peeked in the room and watched
as she stuffed a stack of papers into the copy tray
She wiped her hands on her skirt
and sat in the chair next to the whirring machine
“You should go talk to her.”
Seven put a hand over your mouth
and pulled you away from the door
Jaehee glanced up and sighed
Seven removed his hand and you
lowered your voice to a whisper
“What the hell do you want?”
He glanced at the breakroom and
then back to you, giving you his famous ‘I have an idea that could go horribly
wrong or perfectly right’ look
“Good luck,” was all he said
before grabbing you and harshly shoving you in the breakroom
But it was too late
In a flash the redhead was gone,
and you were alone with Jaehee
She looked up and smiled
“MC? I didn’t know you were here
so late! It’s nice to have some company.”
You stared at her, unsure of what
Jaehee stood up and stretched,
letting out a tiny yawn
“How much longer does Jumin have
She picked up the warm copies from
the tray and leaned up against the machine
“I just have to run this back to
his office and I’m done! At least, until he inevitably
calls me at midnight asking for more cat food…”
You walked with her to Jumin’s
office, continuing to listen to her rant about his late night antics
When the two of you finally got
there, she plopped the papers in a box outside the door
She glanced over at you
“You wanna go grab some late night
coffee? Since, you know, Jumin should be calling you in about,” you checked
your watch, “30 minutes.”
“Sure!! That’s exactly the pick me
up I need, a nice little frienddate!”
“Yeah, I was thinking-”
“I like you. A lot.”
Jaehee stopped and turned to you
“A-As a friend?”
You stepped closer, “More than a friend.”
Her eyes widened and a deep blush
spread across her cheeks
You felt your heart break in two
She doesn’t feel the same… dammit, this is why you never fall in love with a straight girl.
Tiny hands wrapped around your
own, causing you to look back up
Jaehee had a soft smile spread
across her lips
“Me too… a-about the not friend
Her gripped tightened, “Not that I don’t consider you a friend! I’m just, well, what I’m trying
to say, or rather, what want to say-”
“Would you two KISS ALREADY???”
Both of your heads snapped
in the direction of the voice
“Seven, whyyyyy are you still here?”
“Yeah, he was here earlier when-”
“-When I set you guys up!”
As you and Seven began arguing, Jaehee
looked between the two of you and sighed
She interlocked fingers with you
and pulled you away
“Sorry, Luciel, but we have a date
to get to.”
You stuck your tongue out at him
and he rolled his eyes
“Whatever… have fun you two love
You looked over at Jaehee and
Oh, we will.
Dammit, he closed the blinds.
You rolled your chair closer and angled
your head in an attempt to see into Jumin’s office again
“Peeping tom much?
Zen sighed and leaned up against
“I still don’t understand what you
see in him.”
You rolled your eyes and looked
over at Zen
“You promised you’d be supportive-
“-And I am,” he held up his hands
in surrender, “I just think you could do better.”
“What? Like date you?”
“Well, not that much better.”
Zen smirked and you playfully hit
him in the stomach
Within the next second the two of you burst out laughing
“Wow,” you wiped a tear from your
eye, “I don’t even know why that was so funny.”
“MC,” Jumin’s voice boomed, “Can I
see you in my office?”
Zen raised his eyebrows and pushed
himself off your desk
“Good luck,” he glanced back,
“with him, you’ll need it.”
You rolled your eyes and stood up,
cringing when your knees made a loud pop
Could my body, like, not embarrass me? No? Alllllllrighty.
You walked into the room and Jumin
closed the door behind him
“So, what’s up?”
Jumin turned around and sighed
“I believe some… congratulations
are in order.”
“Did I get a raise?”
Jumin chuckled, taking one big
step toward you
“No, I’m talking about you and
“I’m a little lost… what do you
“Your relationship. Are you not
romantically involved with each other?”
Said that one out loud this time…
You mentally kicked yourself, “Zen
and I are just friends.”
Jumin scratched his chin,
completely lost in thought
You took a deep breath
Here goes everything nothing.
“…I actually have my eye on
Jumin snapped back into reality
“Who? If that, well, if it isn’t
too much to ask.”
“Is it really not Zen?”
Oh my god.
“You know,” you grabbed his tie,
“you’re pretty clueless for a CEO.”
In one gentle tug, your lips
connected with his
After a few seconds, Jumin pulled
“So, it’s me then?”
You shook your head and grinned
“Of course, you-“
Jumin’s lips crashed on to yours
again,his hands cupping your face
And let’s just say you were now very
thankful for the closed blinds
You grabbed the two tools from
“You know, you don’t have to
repeat everything I say.”
“Repeat everything I-OUCH! MC, why’d you kick meeee?”
Seven hugged his shin and hopped
up and down
I’m surprised he has this much energy at 2 in the morning….
You looked back up at Seven, who
had miraculously gotten over his bruised shin and was chugging a can of Dr.
…Who am I kidding, he never sleeps anyways.
It had been about an hour since
Seven called you asking for help fixing his chair
You had gone to the furniture
store IKEA anyone??? with him earlier that day and actually took the time to READ the damn manual
You clapped your hands together
“Wanna test it out?”
Seven gave you a mischievous grin
“Don’t mind if I do!”
Before you knew it, Seven grabbed
your waist and pulled you into his lap, causing both of you to fall back into
It creaked under the combined
weight of you and Seven, but surprisingly remained stable
“Hey, you really did fix it!!”
Seven began spouting off nonsense
about how crappy it was earlier, but you were too busy thinking about the fact
that you were sitting
In his lap
INCHES away from his face
He’s so warm…
“-Plus, it kept making weird
noises! I’m so glad you came over tonight.”
“Uh, earth to MC?? Agent 707
calling, can you read me??”
You shook you head, zoning back in
Seven sighed, relaxing back into
“Thank God Seven you’re okay… I can’t have my best friend dying on me…
literally,” Seven chuckled at his own joke
I love that little laugh.
Seven looked back at you
“What’s on your mind, MC?”
DID I JUST SAY THAT OUT LOUD?
Here we go.
“Seven, I like you.”
“You mean,” Seven furrowed his
brows, “You like me, or you like-like
You rolled your eyes, how old is he again??
“You’re so ridiculous.”
Seven looked at you patiently
“I like-like you.”
You felt lips lightly press on the back of your neck
“Well that’s not fair,” Seven
tightened his grip on your waist, “because I love-love you.”
Y/n never went back home. Instead, she spends winter break in the confines of Harry’s apartment—wrapped up in between his bedsheets to keep warm.
The usually cold and brutal winter that always made their skin numb is now warm to them—skin always accompanied by one another’s and feeling more than ever before. And with the mix of never ending company and the feel of the music that always seems to be playing in his apartment, they couldn’t have asked for a better way to start off their relationship.
They never do anything extravagant—never do anything that could take time away from one another. It’s in their simplicity do they find a sense of comfort throughout the festive season. They feel happiest in their own little world—away from everything and everyone, just focusing on them being together without any distractions.
With being so consumed by one another, they’ve learned more about each other than ever before—spending most days watching their favorite movies and baking new recipes they found in Harry’s favorite Christmas cookbook and spending the nights cuddled up against one another as Y/n somehow finds new things to talk about.
Each day, they fall in love with each other all over again. It’s as if their hearts unravel and trap each other in—giving them no means of escape, but neither of them want to.
Whenever she spends the night at his apartment, Harry has to spend nearly an hour each morning just to fight her from getting out of bed. It’s become a routine, Harry having to pull her from the edge of the bed so that he can cradle her back in his arms while she giggles and mumbles some excuses he doesn’t have the energy to listen to.
He just really, really, really loves the feel of her first thing in the morning, especially when the brutal feel of the blistering winds finds its way to his apartment. She’s much warmer than usual and her eyes are brighter and always glistened against the sun. Her lips, too—they are always so much fuller somehow that even in his mild awareness, he finds himself kissing them before he finally lets her slip away from the comfort of the sheets.
But this morning—this morning is different.
After a Christmas night filled with passion and inexperienced intimacy, Harry really doesn’t want to let her go. He’d much rather feel her uncovered body up against his all morning—soaking each other up and holding one another until the sun sets into the night.
It just sounds so right, to keep each other near and close after giving each other their last bit of innocence. Everything they had to offer one another was taken and used to make them whole, so that’s how they should be—together and whole for as long as they possibly can.
But when Harry feels Y/n begin to stir her way out of his arms, he knows she has very different plans.
And he’s just not having it.
He whimpers in his slumbered state, pulling her back against his chest with eyes half-lidded and breathing still steady. He’s holding onto her like never before, refusing to feel her side of the bed empty. He needs her, her, her, anywhere and everywhere as long as it’s with him. And despite having every bit of her last night, he hasn’t gotten enough and he needs her more.
She giggles softly against his neck, gingerly kissing the exposed skin as her fingers run along his jaw. She can already feel him falling back asleep from her touch, a content sigh leaving his lips at their closeness.
“Love, I gotta get up. Y’know me, can’t stay in bed once I’m awake.”
He groans as he shakes his head, somehow filling up the smallest of empty spaces between them and tucking his head into her shoulder. His nose is right up against her skin and he can smell her usual scent—vanilla and lavender from her usual body wash but much more filthy than usual.
She giggles again when she feels his bottom lip poke at her shoulder, her fingers reaching to his hair as she combs through it.
“Oh, none of that, H.” She tisks, thumbing the very exaggerated pout on his lips. “I’ll be right downstairs, won’t be going anywhere far.”
He rolls his body off of her, his back hitting against the mattress with a whine. His eyes remain closed but there’s a very noticeable furrow between his brows, and Y/n begins to wonder what he’s so worried about.
She frowns down at him, observing the rise of his goosebumps from the morning cold on his bare chest. It looks empty and lifeless without her head upon it, and though his body is no stranger to her, there’s something about it that seems much more inviting and she yearns to keep it closer than ever.
And she gets it—she gets his exaggerated whining and the worry in his eyes. After everything that happened to them the night before, he can’t leave her—he can't—and that’s exactly what she’s doing to him, even if it’s only a floor away.
Almost as if to reassure him, she goes with the feel of her heart and decides to spend the next couple hours of the freezing morning right beside him.
Harry loves watching Y/n in her most natural hours.
Her chest and elbows are leaning against the surface of the kitchen counter, one hand holding a mug of coffee while the other flips the pages of her favorite poetry book. Her upper body is clad with Harry’s favorite sweatshirt—ending right at the end of her underwear—leaving her legs exposed and on full display for all of Harry to see.
Despite her hair fully knotted and having an overall disheveled look to her, Harry decides that she looks best this way—in a way nobody other than him has gotten the chance to see—as if she was made for his eyes only.
And he has never seen such a beautiful sight in his life as she looks at him with the softest and most delicate of eyes, a small smile resting on her lips at his presence. Every bit of her looks inviting—like a place of comfort Harry could forever shield himself in.
She’s become so much more than his girlfriend—so much more than someone to call his own—she’s become his muse and his home, his haven and everything in between.
“You always look at me with longing even when I’m right here with you.”
He blinks at her, watching as her cheeks flush with pink under the watch of his amused eyes, loving how easily tranced he becomes in her.
She’s never been confident in herself. Ever since she was a little girl, she used her friendliness to somehow distract people from what she truly felt on the inside. She never truly touched base with her insecurities and never wanted to, so she always found ways to push the most damaging thoughts in the back of her head.
But Harry changed everything. He made her feel beautiful and loved in every way possible, she almost doesn’t understand how he could have so much of that love in him—especially for her. From the way he holds her all throughout the night to the small kisses and gestures whenever he has the chance, she feels it everywhere and she almost feels it in herself.
His sheepish smile confirms her statement, knowing fully that there will never be a moment he doesn’t want her, no matter where she is.
He walks slowly over to her, the smile never fading from his lips and the blush creeping back to Y/n’s cheeks as she turns her body to stretch her arms out at him. It’s the smallest moments like this that make them grateful for the kind of love they share—together.
He presses his lips to hers tenderly when he feels her fingers run across his stomach, his own fingers pushing the material of his sweatshirt up towards her breasts so that he can brush against the swell of them.
“Beautiful.” He whispers, quickly returning back to her lips as they softly release a whimper from the detachment.
She tastes so good—a mix of bitter and sweet from her coffee, leaving his mouth wanting more and more with each passing second. And what was supposed to be innocent turned to lust before they knew it—their movements much more haste and impatient.
In the midst of their desperation, Harry pushes her hips further against the edge of the counter, fingers digging into her skin as his mouth parts open with hers. They both moan into one another, completely consumed by the feeling of their relentless hands and feverish kisses.
Her hands are against his stomach, rubbing along his torso when he hitches her legs around his waist, leaving Harry in control of whatever it is that’s unfolding. Her squeal turns into a moan when his hips collide with hers, the friction making her head spin and body yearn for more.
He feels her hands creep toward the waistband of his sweatpants while his hands bundle up the sweatshirt over her breasts so that they’re fully exposed to him—revealing the most delicate parts of her.
And right as his lips attach to the valley of them, the ringing of the telephone breaks them from their moment.
“H—Harry, the phone.” Y/n gasps.
But he shows no sign of stopping when his teeth sink into an already bruised hickie from the night before, leaving her with shaking fingers between his hair and withering from the soreness. And he really can’t stop, because she feels like no other and she’s so addicting in every way possible. He wants her all to himself.
The answering machine almost dissolves into pure background noise for the both of them, too caught up in the moment.
“Hi, Harry, it’s your mum.”
Only five words and Harry feels the air being knocked right out of his lungs—seizing all his movements and thoughts as Y/n is left completely confused and panting upon the kitchen counter.
"I know it’s been a while and a lot has ended quite messy, but your father does miss you and well—we all miss you, Harry. We would really love for you to come over for dinner tonight as a late Christmas celebration. You don’t have to, but we’ll have an extra seat for you. And—uh—I love you so much. I wish you the best. Please call me soon.”
It’s as if the world around him is spinning faster than ever before—his brain overwhelmed with scrambled thoughts and ears ringing from the anxiety.
There would have been nothing to prepare him for this moment. He never thought he’d ever see his father again—much less be invited back over to his house after everything that’s happened. It’s been so long, he genuinely thought it was over—he thought all of the pain and fear was over, but his biggest nightmare is coming to life and he feels sick to his stomach.
His father is why he’s like this—mute and anxious in social situations. If his dad hadn’t repeatedly torn him down for never being good enough—hadn’t made him believe nobody would ever talk to a little shy boy—he would have probably gained the confidence to speak the more he matured.
But because his father shunned him for being shy and never making any friends, Harry was terrified of what people would think of him if he ever did make friends. Because if his own father didn’t love him, how could anybody else?
Y/n notices the tears in his eyes and his shallow breathing, which she’s quick to mend when her hands reach up to his cheeks. They’re hot and flushed, but all for the wrong reasons.
She frowns, lips peppering small kisses along his face in an attempt to bring him back to her. She doesn’t know much—or really anything—about Harry’s family life; all she knows is that she has never seen a picture of them in his house or any validation that he ever truly had one.
But as she catches the glimpse of fear in his eyes and the small quivering of his lips, he knows very well that there must have been something that went wrong. And even if she doesn’t know what it is that he went through, she knows that if he decides to do this or not, she’ll be right there with him.
“You’re scared.” She whispers, thumbs rubbing against his cheeks softly. “What is it you’re afraid of, baby? Talk to me, please.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, his lips pursing together as loose tears fall from his eyes.
He’s never talked about his family problems and because all of this has happened so quickly, his words get trapped in his throat. To genuinely talk about his family and come to terms with his emotions seems all too much for him, especially when it’s hard for him to speak in the first place.
Y/n clicks her tongue while shaking her head softly, wrapping her around his neck as he nests his cheek into her shoulder. His muscles instantly relax in her arms and has a sense of clarity in her comfort, but there’s still an undeniable thumping in his chest that just can’t seem to go away.
“You don’t have to talk about this, love, but maybe this will be good for you. You know, to test the waters with your family. Maybe this could help you in the long run.”
And he wants to believe her—he really, really fucking wants to believe her—but he knows he can’t. Anywhere in his father’s path is detrimental to Harry’s social anxiety and he knows it’ll only make this worse for him in the long run.
“Y/n.” Harry groans, detaching her arms from his neck so that he can stand properly. His teeth are grit and eyes are distant—looking anywhere but her own and he swallows thickly around his words. “There’s a reason I don’t talk to anybody.”
His words are cracked and desperate—like a plea for Y/n to understand that this is different, that there will never be a day he’ll be able to face his problems. There have been too many times he’s found his way back and he always walks away with a damaged heart.
Y/n watches the way his fingers fiddle around one another and how he can’t stand still, it’s like watching the battle in Harry’s head and watching him fall apart from it.
And no matter how much she loves him now—the way he is now, even without much speaking—she doesn’t want to watch him suffer for the rest of his life. He’s the most undeserving man, he deserves the world and she knows he does.
His heart is nothing but pure and damaged—in need of mending and love. It’s the best part of him, really. It’s what brought them together and she feels the need to protect it at all costs.
He doesn’t feel it, though. He doesn’t feel what his heart has to offer and doesn’t see how it makes him so strong. He only sees himself as a ruin—a lost cause with nothing left to fight for, and he doesn’t deserve it. After what he’s been through, she needs him to understand that he is so much more than he thinks he is.
Because he is—he really is—no matter what he believes.
She holds his head in her hands to distract him from his consuming thoughts. His eyes shift in her gaze as he lets out a small breath.
“I just think it’ll be best to try again. I know—I see how hard it is for you to live the way that you do and I want to be here for you through everything. Things could be different this time—things could actually end well and you might be able to push through this. Because I know you, Harry, more than anybody else right now and I know you can push through this.”
She presses her forehead against his with a sigh leaving her lips, her thumbs running along his knuckles.
“And if there is any point you feel uncomfortable or upset, we can walk right out and leave. Just know that I will be there for you no matter what, okay? Just asking for you to try.”
It’s because she sounds so sure of herself that Harry actually agrees to go to the dinner. He knows that if it were a matter of him going alone, he would never even consider it. But knowing she is going to be right by his side—holding his hand through it all—maybe he doesn’t have to be so scared.
Maybe, it’ll actually be different this time.
It’s not different.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, it’s really not any different than he expected it to be.
Upon their arrival, Harry’s mum and sister nearly fainted from seeing him at the front door. They thought their invitation would go dismissed, like the way Harry’s ignored them for the past three years. But looking at him for the first time in what felt like forever, they were nothing short of thrilled.
And to make it even better, he brought a girl. Harry was holding her hand tightly, keeping her tucked right into his side so that he could feel her with every step he took.
Anne and Gemma swore they had never seen something so heartwarming in their life—to the point where tears sprung from their eyes and arms flinging around their bodies. Y/n didn’t even have to introduce herself properly for them to love and approve of her, anybody who gets Harry to open up—in any way possible—is enough for them.
He was calm when it was just the four of them, Harry watching Y/n hit it off with his family so effortlessly. He noticed the fondness in all their eyes and this was how he wanted it to be forever.
But once they sat down for dinner, Harry knew something was about to happen.
His father didn’t acknowledge neither him nor Y/n in the slightest. Instead, he acted as if they weren’t there and only carried conversations with the rest of his family. And Harry wasn’t sure if he preferred it that way or not—wasn’t sure if he’d rather have his father at least notice him and hate him or have his father neglect him.
Y/n was trying to make the best out of the situation and he could tell. She found her way to the conversations even if his father didn’t respond to her, and still remained her perky self while doing so. She seemed unfazed through it all, almost like she didn’t feel the overwhelming amount of tension that surrounded the room.
She does it for him, though. She knew that if she showed just how uncomfortable his father was making her—he’d never be able to survive this dinner. She had to play strong enough for his sake.
But now that dinner has passed by and all that’s left are empty plates of food and mindless mingling, Harry feels nothing short of uncomfortable and misplaced under his father’s glare. It’s as if he’s waiting for Harry to speak out in the conversation, or do much of anything to make his presence known.
Y/n can see the soft shaking of Harry’s head and can feel the sweat on his palms with each passing second—just waiting for the end of the night so that they can go home and be alone at last.
“You know, Y/n, I never thought Harry would have a girlfriend.”
It’s the first time tonight his father spoke to Y/n directly, making the conversation she was having with Gemma come to a pause as she looked over at him with confusion. There’s a small pout on her lips as she tilts her head in question, almost unsure as to what he was implying. He has no expression on his face, only a small scoff and disapproving look in his eyes.
“How so? He’s lovely, any girl would be very lucky to have him. I’m just happy it’s me who does.”
Her fingers squeeze his thigh under the tablecloth; as if to tell him that there’s nothing to worry about. If his father wants to try hard enough to get to Harry, he has to try to get through her, first.
His father grumbles, his eyes shifting away from hers. The tenseness is his body seems to lighten, though, when an almost sadistic laugh falls from his lips—finding whatever he’s thinking quite amusing and entertaining.
“Isn’t it disheartening? Doesn’t it get boring, to be with a little boy who can’t even get his mouth to open? You seem to be a very intelligent, mature lady—I can tell by the way you talk. Don’t you think it’s a man’s purpose to be with somebody like you?”
Harry squeezes his eyes shut, trying to silence the sudden voices in his head and focus on the feel of Y/n’s tightening hand.
All the childhood fights, all the times Harry had crawled underneath his bed during the night to get away from it all, and all the times Harry almost had the guts to speak up for himself only to be shut down from his father are all replaying in Harry’s head.
The anxiety creeps to his bones and in his muscles, straining him of all that’s left of his strength and leaving him with nothing but a shaking body and lack of control. Every part of him that felt alive before all of this is slowly dying at the seems—ready to be ripped out on his father’s account.
In any other situation, Y/n would have kept her mouth shut if it meant getting the support and approval of Harry’s family. But this—the way he’s talking about Harry as if he’s not right next to her, disrespecting him for something beyond his control is just not okay with her.
She’d rather stand up for the man she loves and believes in instead of watching him suffer in silence—the way his mum and sister are—with fear.
“Harry may not be a man of many words, but he’s the best thing I’ve got. There is so much more to him than his voice. There is so much more to him than you will ever know because you decided to be a shit father and give up on him without giving him a chance. He holds so much more potential than you could ever see, and that’s what’s wrong here. Harry’s not the problem, him being mute is not the problem, it’s you. Because why is it that everybody else can accept him and love him for who he is besides you?!”
The aftermath of her words silences everything around them. Nobody moves, nobody dares makes a sound besides their harsh breathing, because there could be something that makes either one of them snap and nobody wants to be the one to do so.
Y/n’s hands are in fists upon the table, eyes locked with his in fury and jaw so tight she almost doesn’t even look like herself. She’s turned into an entirely different woman with just the thought of Harry getting into harm’s way.
And although Harry really wants to show her appreciation for her words, he’s too panicked that he’s going to die from not being able to fucking breathe.
The silence is overwhelming, but Y/n is not giving up on him—on Harry. He had to live through this for far too long and she’s not allowing it anymore. He deserves better than this treatment—deserves better than to be looked down upon by somebody who’s supposed to be his provider.
“He’s the best thing you’ve got, yeah?”
His father is playing with his bottom lip, eyes narrowed and eyes in the same unpleasant manner as before. His voice is softer, though, more understanding than before and they both don’t know what to expect out of the conversation.
Y/n nods without hesitation, “He is.”
He watches as Y/n looks more determined and positive as ever, not a doubt or a trace of a lie in her features.
She means it—with her whole heart—she means it and she’ll never let anybody make her go back on her word. And she doesn’t have to say it twice, because Harry knows she’s genuine when she says it.
“You must have a very pathetic life, then.”
Harry’s eyes don’t move from their trance on the table—his body doesn’t make a move under his words. This is just how it always ends, and he just don’t know why he still fucking comes back here every goddamn time.
His throat is tight and his eyes are filled with tears. His skin is full of sweat and he swears his heart is beating much faster than it should. And even though he’s experienced this all before, knowing Y/n is being belittled by his father too makes it worse.
Y/n could have stood up for Harry much more, but she knew that if she started an even bigger brawl than what was already unfolding, Harry wouldn’t have been able to handle it.
He’s already drained of color and crying silently within his lost mind, and she’s absolutely terrified for his health.
She’s nearly dragging him out the door, Harry occasionally tripping over his own feet as he’s being drowned with the voices and the thumping in his chest. The world around him seems to be drowning and he can’t keep up with it all.
He just can’t.
“You can’t only keep her around because she’s the only one that’ll fight your battles for you, Harry! It’s only a matter of time before she realizes that you have nothing to offer her! You can’t give her anything with the way you are. You’re worthless!”
Before he could spew any more insults in Harry’s way, Y/n shuts the door in his face.
Harry knows his father was right.
In the long run, he doesn’t have much to offer her. He can’t be the boyfriend that she deserves to have.
He can’t be the boyfriend that can remind her of how much she’s loved or cared for. He can’t be the boyfriend to sing her to sleep whenever she can’t, or be the boyfriend to say his vows at their wedding for all to hear. He can’t be the boyfriend that—God forbid something were to happen to her—can ask for somebody to help her, or be the boyfriend to sway her family’s heart.
He can’t be anything to her besides somebody that she can sleep with at night and wake up to in the morning. Because that’s all it will be, and she’ll get so tired of being the one to be the only one talking to the other.
He’s nothing in her life, and that’s exactly why he can’t look at her anymore.
“Can you please just say something to me, Harry? I need to know why you’re upset with me or else we can never work through this.”
But how can they work through this when he can’t talk to her the way she wants him to?
Instead of answering right away, Harry presses on the gas pedal even harder than before. In the mix of all his emotions—anger, frustration, sad, and absolutely terrified—the only proper thought that can retain in Harry’s mind is dropping Y/n back to her apartment so that she doesn’t have to keep torturing herself with him.
The longer he feels her presence next to him, the more he realizes that he can’t love her the way she deserves to be loved—even if he really, really, really does love her with every ounce of his being.
“It was only—“ He swallows thickly, “It was only a matter of time before this was going to happen, Y/n.”
Her eyebrows furrow in confusion as she turns her head over to Harry, who has his lips pursed in a straight line while his eyes remain on the road.
There’s something different in him, now—something unreadable in his expressions and it’s something she’s never seen before. He seems broken somehow, like a man who’s been damaged one too many times that he’s become numb—emotionless with nothing left to feel.
“Before what was going to happen, Harry?”
She has an idea about what his words meant, but she doesn’t want to believe it. Not coming from him—not coming from the man who’s shown her nothing but how much love he has for her. There’s no way he could be doing this to her. He can’t do this to her.
“We were never going to last, Y/n. This was over long ago, we’re just on borrowed time.”
The sound of it leaves an unusually disturbing churn in Y/n’s stomach and a foul taste in her mouth. She feels as though Harry is taking his own hand and digging into Y/n’s chest, just so that he can grab ahold of Y/n’s heart and rip it to shreds himself.
Her hand subconsciously grabs onto the handle of the car door, eyes glistening with tears and lungs not daring to breathe. The air—instead of it being filled with their love—is now thicker and colder than ever.
She’s never been so confused—so lead on and so scared as to what is happening to them. They were supposed to make this last, they were supposed to make each other happy for the rest of their lives. He promised her he would, too—promised her nothing but love and trust in him.
But what is happening to them?
“How long have you thought that?”
She was tentative to ask, but she just has to know. She has to know if she’s done everything she’s done for nothing or if it actually held some sort of purpose at the time.
She’s terrified beyond words to find out the answer.
“Before or after you decided to sleep with me?”
Harry doesn’t want to make it seem like he never wanted this—never wanted her. He doesn’t want to make her think that he went through all that he did with her just to expect them to break up so soon. Because he didn’t, he never did. He would have never let her give him her virginity if he knew all of this was going to happen.
He loves her too much to do that to her, but also loves her enough to set her free.
So he decides to not answer her because not saying anything at all is easier for him than saying something he doesn’t mean. And he knows he will if it means letting her go and letting her move onto bigger and better things.
And it’s in his silence and twitch of his eyes does she find his answer.
“So you didn’t mean what you said last night. That we fit perfectly—that it’s like we’re meant to be? Or were they just words to you?”
A sob rips from inside of her when he still gives her nothing. She has never felt so hurt before—has never felt so betrayed. And suddenly, her skin feels dirty—sickened by what he’s done to her and how she could have been so stupid as to let it happen.
She feels it now, too. She feels the way his hands touched her that night, the way his lips kissed her that night, the way his hips rutted against hers and she feels so fucking filthy—used and used and used just for his own personal gain.
“Stop the car.”
It’s a weak demand, but Harry is pained to hear it. He has to hold himself back from comforting her and saying how terribly sorry he is for lying to her the way he is. But it’s just easier this way.
“I said stop the fucking car, Harry!”
Her yelling makes him flinch, and without hesitation makes him pull over to the side of the road. And the second he does so, he knows he shouldn’t have because he’d never be able to live with himself if he let Y/n walk in the cold alone, especially at night.
And right as he’s about to turn back, the sound of her hysteria makes his stop everything he’s doing. Her sobs are relentless in her hands and the thickest of tears fall from Harry’s eyes when he looks at the damage he’s done.
She looks helpless and utterly destroyed—he would have never thought of doing this to her if he’d known this is what would come out of it.
His heart is breaking at the sight of her like this.
As if on instinct, Harry reaches his hand over to her shoulder in an attempt to keep her calm. And even when they’re so close, they have never felt more emotionally distant than they do right now.
“No! Don’t touch me! Don’t you ever touch me again!”
She isn’t sure if she means it or not, but the devastating look Harry gives her at her words proves that he knows she did.
The second his touch leaves hers, he feels them falling apart.
It really is over now.
She’s never felt more pathetic and humiliated in her life. Everything she thought was so real ended up being one of the biggest lies she’s ever lived. He had her fooled for months now and she had not a single clue—but she guesses that’s what happens when she falls in love too quickly.
She feels easy.
She swallows her cries as she opens the car door, not knowing where the hell she is or where the hell she’s going, but knowing that no matter where she ends up, it’ll be much better than being with him.
“I hate you. I never want to see you again, not after this. Not after all that you’ve done to me.”
Harry’s eyes widen at her words, mouth falling open and a gasp falling from his lips. The reality of her words hits him with so much force that he genuinely feels every last bit of him fall apart.
And it’s when she walks away from him—from his life—that he breaks.
He chokes out a sob as his fingers grip the steering wheel, eyes as wide as ever and mouth not daring to shut.
Everything hurts. Every bone in his body feels like it’s breaking and every muscle feels like they’re tearing apart. It hurts so fucking much and Harry can’t stop crying, throwing his head back against the car seat as his hand hits the steering wheel in the midst of his hysteria.
pearl curled up in garnet’s lap, quietly holding her palms to her lips, making sure to switch hands every now and then so ruby and sapphire get equal amounts of love
amethyst giving garnet a high five and a quick smooch after a successful mission (and then jumping up to smooch her lips too, for good measure)
mystery girl kissing pearl’s gem as just an automatic nice-to-see-you forehead thing and both are very surprised and pleased by the reaction it gets
peridot lying on lapis’s back while they watch tv together, with her lips near the gem but without enough courage to actually kiss it (and lapis can’t see her, but she can easily tell how bad peridot is blushing)
greg blowing raspberries on steven’s stomach when he’s little and finding that his gem is extra ticklish
the height difference making it more natural for pearl to kiss amethyst’s forehead and amethyst pearl’s chest, but sometimes they lie down in a pile of pillows in amethyst’s room and curve around each other in a way that makes it work
amethyst kissing peridot’s gem very often (sometimes in greeting, sometimes to surprise her, sometimes to make her laugh, sometimes just because she just loves her so much) and peridot having the same squealy stunned reaction every time
pearl getting lots of casual pecks from garnet just because her gem’s so easily accessible
steven’s shirt riding up a little while he and connie are cuddling on the couch, she lightly kisses his gem on a whim and he suddenly starts giggling so hard they both end up on the floor
amethyst sneaking up behind lapis to kiss her gem and then running away cackling before lapis can retaliate
peridot finally mustering up the nerve to get lapis too after amethyst’s example
lapis chasing them down, followed by some very menacing-looking waves, and managing to get them each in a water hand; both peridot and amethyst legitimately fearing for their lives before she pulls them down and attacks them with rapid-fire kisses (first on their gems, then all over their faces)
pearl kissing steven’s gem once when he’s a baby, just to see what would happen, just to see if maybe…no, he just laughs a little bit, she frowns, and she decides to never do that again.
(she does do it again, when he’s older, he jumps into her arms under the guise of a game of steven tag and then plants a little smooch on her gem and she can’t help but lift him up and return the gesture. he laughs a lot this time, and she smiles.)
“I love you, idiot,” Y/N confessed, an anxious feeling wrenching at her gut. The boy’s face illuminated in happiness as the words left her mouth. Peter’s eyes lit up as he leaned in and feverishly kissed her, smiling against her lips.
“I love you too, dork,” He asserted, skimming his thumb across her jaw as he gazed into her E/C hues dreamily.
W A R R E N W O R T H I N G T O N
“Y-You what?” Warren repeated for the third time as his eyes shot open at the final realization at what she said. He shot forward, tackling the girl onto the floor as he placed small, yet hungry kisses upon her face, and then one on her lips.
“I love you too,” He said, getting off of her, and carrying her bridal-style back to his dorm in confidence.
A L E X S U M M E R S
Alex nearly choked on his beer as those words left Y/N’s mouth, Jubilee’s jaw dropped, Jean passed Scott a twenty dollar bill with a shit-eating grin, and Peter wolf whistled as loud as he possibly could. His Azure-Blue gaze shifted to your serious expression, and without thought, his lips crashed onto hers. The kiss was full of hunger and need, and for a split second, he forgot he wasn’t alone with her. He let go of her, and her fingers were at her lips, tracing where his were in shock.
“I knew that,” He asserted with a smirk. “But do you know what’s cool?” Alex’s smirk disappeared, and a smile found it’s way onto his lips. “I love you too,”
“I told you, sucker,” Jean smirked, as Scott’s face was dumbstruck.
C H A R L E S X A V I E R
“That’s quite a stupid thing to say,” Charles stated with confusion placed all over his usual calm expression. “But I can say that I love you too,” He admitted, adverting his Icy-Blue hues away from her E/C ones. The woman’s petite hands found their way to the collar of the button-down he was wearing, and she’d crashed her lips onto his. His arms snaked around her waist, and he smiled against her lips as they kissed.
S C O T T S U M M E R S
Scott dropped the Pop can he held in his hand, Jubilee squealed like the little girl she was, Peter said something disgustingly funny, and Alex said something completely vulgar and amazing as the words finally escaped your lips. “R-Really?” Scott choked out, his jaw basically touching the floor at this point.
“Of course, goofball,” She confirmed, a chuckle and a small ‘idiot’ coming from Alex, his lovely older brother. Scott was beaming in joy, as he snaked his arms around Y/N’s waist, picked her up, and proceeded to spin her around as he kissed her.
“I love you too, Y/N,” He agreed, a smile plastered on his face.
Their Reaction When You Say “I Love You” - 13 Reasons Why Preference
“Y-You what?” Hannah repeated as her eyes widen at the realisation of what you had just said. She practically dived forward, tackling the Y/H/C girl onto the floor as she placed small, yet hungry kisses upon her face, and then one on her lips.
“I love you too,” She said, climbing off her and grabbing her hand, pulling her down the hall to her room.
“I love you, dumbass,” You confessed. Clay’s face illuminated in happiness as the words left your mouth, his eyes lit up as he leaned in and feverishly kissed you, smiling against you lips.
“I love you too, idiot,” He stated, running his thumb across you swollen lips.
Justin nearly choked on his beer as those words left your mouth, His gaze shifted to your serious expression, and within seconds, his lips crashed onto yours. The kiss was full of hunger and need, and for a split second, he forgot he wasn’t alone with you.
“It’s about time,” He asserted with a smirk. Justin’s smirk disappeared, and a smile found it’s way onto his lips. “I love you too.”
You both were cuddling and you hadn’t heard anything from him for a while and when you looked his eyes were closed, so you thought he was asleep. You’d gently brushed some hair out of his closed eyes and, softly, whispered “I love you,” thinking he wouldn’t hear you anyway. But he was awake and heard you. He didn’t think it was a big deal and just mumbled the words back to you. He wouldn’t show it but he was sure he had never been this happy before.
He would show you some of his newly written lyrics and you’d accidentally blurt out how much you loved him and his talent. He’d freeze for second, not sure if you actually meant to say it but when you blushed and hid your face he’d be sure and he’d have the biggest smile on his face. He’d say it back and quickly peck your lips. He would have a contagious smile plastered to his face for the rest of the day.
Jessica was casually eating her lunch whilst you build up the courage to say the long awaited words. When you did, she quickly looked up at you and then returned her gaze to her food. ‘Is that it?’ you thought. ‘not even an i love you too?’.
“Not nice waiting, is it babe? I’ve been waiting a months for you to say that.”
You playfully poke her sides, before her expression turned serious. “I really do love you though.” She stated.
You and Jeff had spent the whole day relaxing in bed together; talking about anything and everything. Your hands are tangled in his hair as he laid his head in the crook of your neck, you were in a comfortable silence when you uttered those three words. His eyes lit up and he lifted his head to kiss your lips, when he pulled away, his arms still wrapped around your waist. He said “I am so in love with you, Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.”
Montgomery De La Cruz
(A/N: I literally couldn’t find any other gifs for him)
Even though he acts like a cocky asshole 95% of the time, Monty would definitely get so flustered. Whether you said it subtley or straightforward, he’d just start stuttering. He would be so shocked yet happy that you said the three words.
“I l-love you too, babe.”
Tony just wouldn’t be able to stop smiling. He tried acting cool and not letting you notice how flustered he actually was, it was pretty clear that you’d affected him.
‘She/He loves me back.’ He thought, with a smile.
Skye Miller (yes I’ve added her because I’m slightly in love with her, okay?)
You would be stuttering, blushing and mumbling, while you tried to built up the courage to confess those three words. Skye obviously noticed. “Are you okay?” She asked, concerned.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m f-fine, why wouldn’t I be?” You stuttered, avoiding her gaze.
“Y/N.” She said, grabbing your arm. “What’s wrong?” She asked.
“I love you.” You blurted out, your eyes widening as you heard the words come tumbling from your mouth.
“You do?” She asked, a smile growing on her lips. “I love you, too. Now, let’s go, I want pizza.” And with that, she intertwined your fingers together, while you walked towards the school parking lot.
A/N: I was going to flesh this out a bit more, but I decided I’ve been late enough haha! I hope you enjoy your requested smut @nalufever . Also, credit where credit is due to @keii for her amazing NaLu art that gave me inspiration ;) This story is 10% some kind of plot and 90% smut. ;)
She paused, a shuddering breath left passed her lips. Too much time had passed since she had left. A year to be exact. Absence taught her that time moved slowly when parted from the second half of her soul.
He would be charging towards her any minute now. Finding her scent from miles away wasn’t unusual, it was in his nature. Rooted to the spot, Lucy couldn’t find it within her to move. Still debating what she was going to say, what could she say that would be believable. She had never lied to him before, technically it was lying by omission. He would never have accepted she had to find Aquarius alone.
Hence the reason, travelling to the continent via the spirit world so he wouldn’t be able to track her.
“He’s not here you know.” Pivoting quickly to source the voice, piercings and coal orbs came into view, eyes focused on her as he spoke, “Salamander’s on a job.”
“Gajeel.” He hadn’t aged a day.
“I hope you’re back for good Bunny,” Before she could turn around and head back, his words made her stop.
“You hurt him.”
And myself, she added silently in her head.
“I know.” She whispered, because what else could she say.
“Are you coming in or not?” He asked after a moment of contemplative quiet between the pair of them, brushing past her with a nod that signified that she should follow. She did so without complaint.
“How is Levi?”
“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” He replied, patting her head gently as she caught up with his large ground swallowing footsteps.
Seeing Fairy Tail again sent her blood pressure soaring, happy memories surfacing in her mind. For now, she would concentrate on greeting her guildmates and worry about Natsu later.
Summary: You have a secret while being able to control water, every time you touch salt water, you transform into a mermaid. You’ve done a good job keeping it a secret from Bucky, but will a new mission jeopardize your secret?
Word Count: 1.2k
A/N: I watched Splash and this is what happened…
Requests are open!
It was a normal day in the Avengers tower, everyone was preparing for their next missions. They got Intel that Crossbones was building underwater bombs. So Steve decided to have Y/N and Bucky find where they were. Bucky was sitting in the lab with Tony, trying to waterproof his new prototype arm. He glanced at the glass lab in front of him, he saw Banner and Y/N arguing over beakers of water. She had the ability to control water, why would they argue over it?
Y/N caught the super soldier staring at her, while normally she did like the attention from the man, today was a different story. She marched to the window and pulled the curtain shut so no one could see. “What’s her deal?” Bucky asked.
“Some water stuff, I don’t know…I let banner deal with the water magic,” Tony shrugged, taking the screwdriver out of his arm.
Sliding across the kitchen tiles in her fluffy socks (and narrowly avoiding injury), she wiped down the black countertop with a damp cloth leaving a fresh citrus scent in its wake. Humming along to whatever 80s track that was playing over the sound system in Shawn’s dining area, she cleared the remnants of the cooking equipment from their dinner. Although he had pretty much just moved in, she had already made herself at home and despite his protests she always insisted on cleaning up. Besides, she practically lived there anyway.
And she didn’t mind cleaning up. Being an only child, she had never lived with a teenage guy before and was initially worried that when she visited, the once pristine apartment would look like a bomb had hit it - only going on what she had heard about teenage boys and cleanliness, of course. But she had to admit she was pleasantly surprised at how tidy Shawn kept his place. She supposed it had more to do with pride in having his own place rather than the interest to clean but either way, the condo was kept immaculate. There was rarely a moment she arrived and he wasn’t sweeping the hardwood floors. Something about it getting dusty, he insisted, though she just laughed and told him to put the damn brush away.
The final pot clanged as she placed it back in its respective drawer and she switched the stereo off with a satisfied sigh. Spotless. She furrowed her brow at the sound of the pounding bass continuing down the hall. Shawn had told her he was going to blow off some steam or something along the lines of that. She thought she really ought to start listening to him more rather than ushering him out of the kitchen so she could shamelessly sing without the presence of an actual vocalist. Truth be told, she was as tone deaf as they came.
Padding silently down along the hall that she knew Shawn would probably be feverishly sweeping later, she made out the song to be a Drake track accompanied by the rhythmic sound of punches hitting leather. As she grew closer, the door to his makeshift studio room was slightly ajar and she held onto the doorframe for dear life. Standing there in all his shirtless glory, she silently thanked whatever god that he had his back to her. Stance fixed and posture poised, he threw punch after punch at bag whose chains shook with each hit. He was slick with sweat and all her attention was fixated on the way his back muscles flexed and contracted with each jab. A limp curl hung down on his forehead while the rest at the back of his head were plastered to his neck with perspiration. His grey sweatpants hung low on his waist and she found it hard to concentrate when he let out the occasional low grunt as he threw a punch.
She knew he had taken up boxing as a way to keep fit while he was on tour and couldn’t make it to the gym. The thought of that alone was enough to let her mind run rampant. But experiencing the sight in person? Well, that was a whole other level of explicit thoughts and right now, her mind needed a big ‘Parental Advisory: Explicit Content’ sticker stuck to it.
Biting her lip with too much vigour, she inwardly prayed that her knees wouldn’t give out. The sound of someone collapsing in the doorway was sure to put a pause to his boxing session and she’d be damned if she was the one to stop him. It almost felt wrong watching him. Although he is her boyfriend, she still felt like she was trespassing - watching something that she shouldn’t. Her phone suddenly felt very heavy in her back pocket as the urge to record the unlawful sight in front of her welled up inside her. She wanted to capture the moment, project it on cinema screens, tattoo it on her body. Woah girl, reel it in she thought to herself, chastising her imagination for taking the scenario and running away with it.
“I told you not to box without gloves, didn’t I?” she said as the song ended. Her voice was a surprise to her own ears - it sounded controlled and not at all flustered as she had expected.
Whatever ounce of rationality she had mustered up before was completely and utterly demolished when her Greek God of a boyfriend turned around to face her - all glistening abs and taut pectoral muscles. The way his lips parted slightly as he panted and the innocent look in his eyes was enough to make her crumble into a heap of ashes. The early signs of stubble were visible above his lip and on his chin and although she wasn’t usually a fan of facial hair, she stifled a groan in her throat. What the hell was this kid doing to her? A smug smile spread across his face as he moved across the room to turn off the speaker and she dared her legs to hold her weight as she walked - or rather wobbled - towards him.
“Guess I should’ve listened, huh?” he replied with a sheepish grin as he looked from his knuckles back up to her face. She noticed the cuts dotted along his knuckles and the purplish hue of the bruised already forming underneath. He could only chuckle as she sighed and quirked a brow at him, his own way of saying ‘I’m fine, really’.
“The blood trickling down your hand says otherwise” she countered, taking one of his large hands in her own. Brushing a finger across his lower knuckles that escaped relatively unscathed, she shot him another look. But it was hard to even pretend to be mad at him when he was gazing down at her, his warm brown eyes alight with mischief.
“Sorry, mom” he said apologetically with a boyish grin, earning himself a swat to the chest.
“C'mon, Rocky Balboa” she said sarcastically and took him by the hand carefully. Leading him to the en suite in the master bedroom, she bent down to reach the first aid kit she had taken the liberty of buying. Admittedly, she was hopelessly accident prone and Shawn was clumsy so it was considered an essential as far as she was concerned. One of them was bound to do something potentially self-destructive. Which was laughably ironic considering the fact that she was fit to combust any second.
“Honestly, I’m fine. It’s not that bad” Shawn argued examining his hands. Looking up from her position on the floor and ready to shoot another unamused look at him, he towered above her and she lost all ability to speak. His damp curls hung around his face as he looked down and her and she couldn’t help but let her eyes wander to where the defined V muscle at his waist disappeared beneath the waistline of his sweatpants. His cheeks were as hot and rosy as hers felt. Whatever smart-ass comment that was on the tip of her tongue died. Combustion in 3…2… Clearing her throat and standing up quickly, she placed the first aid kit on the counter before putting a hand on her hip.
“Just- shut up and let me be a good girlfriend, alright?” she said playfully. As she opened the kit, he held up his hands in surrender. Getting to work disinfecting the cuts on his hands, she tried desperately to ignore his proximity to her and the heat radiating off his body. Needless to say she failed miserably. After she had finished wrapping the bandages around his knuckles (like he should have done before he started boxing), he pressed a kiss against her hair and mumbled his thanks against her skin. The height difference meant she was staring at the hollow in his throat that was gleaming with sweat and she couldn’t hold herself back from planting a kiss there. A surprised low groan escaped him and as she wound her arms around his waist, she could feel him pull back slightly.
“I’m all gross and sweaty, baby girl” he said in a low voice, the tenor in it reverberating through her bones.
“Good, that’s the way I like you” she said with a smirk, gazing up at him through her lashes before placing another slow, languid kiss at the base of his neck. He gripped her hips as he sucked in a breath when her teeth grazed his skin.
“Well in that case…” he said and in one swift motion, he had her hoisted up onto the counter and stood between her legs, earning a surprised gasp from her lips. “You won’t mind getting a bit sweaty yourself.”
Her mind raced and she crashed her lips against his. God, he had been gone for so long. Far too long. She had forgotten how much she had missed this. Missed the way his tongue brushing hers caused that feeling to erupt in her stomach every single time. The way he pulled her towards him by her hips, getting her as close to him as humanely possible. The way he groaned against her lips when she wound a hand into his wild hair. Usually he was gentle, slow. Nothing about him was gentle in that moment letting her know that he had missed her just as much as she had missed him. Kissing her way along his jawline to his ear, she kissed his earlobe before speaking with a challenging tone to her voice
It felt as though a rubber band had hooked into her shoulders and pulled them back, tense and aching. She messaged the side of her neck, rolling it, imagining the relief she’d feel with hot water alleviating the sore muscles. Once she had locked the apartment door she began to strip out of her work clothes – first her shoes, then her trousers, blazer, button up – until only her underwear remained, socks bunched at her ankles.