#AND the guy i think is annoying is messaging me to ask what my proposal is about. i cannot catch a BREAK

[townhulls]

i know i’m just on my period but truly people have been pissing me off to no end this week.

[springseasonie]

Unravel Me | LHC (M)

Forced proximity, Haechan x fem reader

Summary: Haechan loves chasing you, but you hate it. You've rejected him so many times, but that just makes him come back stronger. One night, he takes it too far, and the both of you end up locked in a tiny room together after trying to set the record straight. You tell him you hate him and would never date him, let alone fuck him, but is that true?

Warnings: sexual content, tiny bit of dubcon elements, dom Haechan, unprotected sex, pull out method, degrading, bit of a pain kink, spanking, choking, pacing is a lil fast in this one, proofread but may still contain errors

Word count: 4,1k

Song recs: unravel me by Sabrina Claudio

A/N: Happy 300 to me!!! I'm already almost at 400 followers already. I really appreciate that you guys like my writing so much so this is for you guys and for me a little too. Hope you enjoy!! Feedback is loved and appreciated 🤍🤍

"Haechan stand up," you said through gritted teeth.

"No, I'm not gonna stand up."

People were staring at the both of you, confused looks all over their faces. Haechan was on his knees in front of you in the middle of a banquet begging you for your attention. He asked you out multiple times on multiple occasions, and you always rejected him. You truly weren't interested and wanted him to move on, but this time he's taken a new low.

"Is he proposing," you hear someone say.

A shiver crawls up your spine, now feeling more panicked than ever. You took him by his collar, lifting him off the ground swiftly. You had a blank look on your face as you took his hand and pulled him out the hall trying to stay calm. Walking out doors to the back of the estate, you let out a frustrated sigh. Your eyes shifted, seeing that the both of you wouldn't be the only people there. Too many people would hear the mouthful you're about to give him.

Haechan followed you with a small smile as you dragged him around the estate. He knew what was about to happen and he loved it every time it did. Every time you told him no, it made him want to go back and try again stronger and harder. You always said you didn't like him and couldn't stand him, but if that was the case why hadn't you blocked his number yet? Why did you keep responding to his messages and flirting? Haechan always felt like you were holding back, so maybe this incident would be the tip of the iceberg.

You were still walking around looking when you noticed the private office of the house was cracked open, without thinking you pulled him into the small space, shutting the door quickly behind the both of you.

"What the fuck is your problem," you spat.

Haechan shrugged, giving you a look of indifference. "You said in order for you to date me, I'd have to get on my knees and beg."

"I didn't mean it literally Haechan! Are you fucking crazy or something," you whisper yelled. "You know what? I tried to be nice, but now you're just completely insane. I don't fucking like you. I don't want to date you. Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?"

Haechan looked at you with a blank face. "I think you're lying."

You squinted at him frustrated, scoffing at his words. "Lying about what?"

"I think you do like me," he protested.

You let out an annoyed groan, throwing your head back. "And why the fuck do you think that?"

"Because you would've blocked my number a long time ago," he started. "You wouldn't have pulled me in here in private to tell me to stop if you didn't like me."

"Well you know what.." you reached for the door knob, grabbing it as you looked at him. "Now I'm gonna leave, so you can be alone." You twisted the knob expecting the door to open, but all you got was nothing. You twisted it again, pulling it harder but it still didn't budge. Panic started to sleep in as you kept repeating the steps over and over with nothing changing.

You were locked in a room with Haechan and no one knew. Not only that but it was on the other side of the estate. You turned to him, being forced to look at his mocking smile. "The door is locked."

"So shouldn't you call someone," he inquired.

"You're right," you sighed. You pulled out your phone and called someone you knew was there, but they didn't pick up. You called again, but the same thing happened. The third time you called, the call was immediately dropped. You pulled the phone from your ear, looking at the top corner. You had no bars and you were pretty sure he knew this.

"You let me drag you over here knowing I would have no service," you grumbled. "You're evil."

"I'm not evil. I just let you act freely," he claimed. Haechan stood in front of you with the most smug expression you've seen yet. His hands were in his pockets, leaning on the door frame that the both of you stood in front of. You glanced at his neck, realizing that he never fixed his collar that you messed up when you dragged him off the floor.

Just then is when you realized how small the room was. It was a bit dark, the only thing illuminating the room was the moon light and the small desk lamp that was on. You watched him as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt a bit, gulping at the sudden action.

"Well we're probably gonna be in here a while so we might as well get comfortable right?"

"Whatever," you grumbled. You walked to the chair in the corner of the room sitting in it and crossing your legs. He was right, the two of you were gonna be in that small, stuffy, dark room for a bit so there was no need to keep your heels on either. Quickly, you kick them off your feet, sighing at the relief you were given.

Haechan sat on the desk, leaning on his arms that were now being him. You wanted to pretend to be busy on your phone or something, but there was no use when you couldn't even use it, so now you were forced to sit there with your arms crossed staring at a wall.

"You know you can talk to me right? We don't have to sit here in silence."

You scoffed, turning your body away from him in the seat. "I don't wanna talk to you."

Haechan laughed softly, licking his lips as his eyes scanned over your body. He loved messing with you, getting you angry just to curse at him. You always held yourself in so much regard, never getting angry or losing your cool with most people. But for some reason he bought those feelings out of you, even in places like this.

You had to stop letting him get you angry, and you were going to stop it for once and for all in this very room.

-

It had been about 2 hours already and you were sure no one was looking for you both. You haven't even heard any noise from outside the door and it was already 11:30. You were beginning to think that you'd be there till the morning. But even if that was true, you still wouldn't say anything to Haechan.

He figured out the game you were playing when you wouldn't respond to him after a while, leaving him to talk to himself. You were really stubborn and he knew that, but he didn't think you would be this bad. But even when you were mad at him he couldn't get the thought of all the things he could do to you in the room. Take you and fuck you over the desk. Or rip your dress off and fuck you against the window. Maybe he could just spread your legs in the chair you were sitting and just eat you out like there was no tomorrow. Your legs did look good in the dress.

"Can you stop staring at me?" That was the first thing you said to him in a while, the annoyed look forever stuck in your face.

"I'm sorry, you just look really good tonight." Haechan smiles to himself seeing how obviously off put you were by the sudden compliment. "You're not good at hiding your facial expressions."

"Stop talking to me."

"As if you want me to stop talking," he replied, giving you a dry laugh. You shot him a glare, but he looked so good at that moment. You don't know how, but his hair was a bit disheveled and looked like he unbuttoned his shirt a bit more.

You wanted to say something but you couldn't. He had a response for everything. You couldn't stand it. You couldn't stand his witty mind or how he laughed at you. You couldn't stand how he would smile at your anger or lick his lips every time he saw you. The way he would tease you just to make you squirm. You couldn't stand the way his hands would brush against yours sometimes. Sometimes you wanted his hands on you, sometimes you wanted his soft lips on yours. You wanted his body against yours, holding you tight as if he would lose you.

Haechan was so observant, and for some reason you forgot this when you crossed your legs and squeezed them tight. His eyes went from your face to your legs quickly. "What was that about?"

"What? I can't cross my legs now," you snapped. You responded a little bit too quickly, almost like you were caught doing something you weren't supposed to. You looked over at him, breath hitching when you see the way he was sitting now. His legs were open leaning back on one hand while the other was ghosting over his zipper.

"If you wanna fuck me all you have to do is ask."

"Oh please, I would never in a million years fuck you," you said rolling your eyes.

"Well it's looking like you want to right now," he snickered. "We wouldn't have to beat around the bush if you weren't so uptight."

Something in you snapped when you heard the word uptight. You stood up, walking to him with anger. You stood directly between his legs, a scowl overtaking your lips. "I am not uptight. I've worked too hard and too much to ever let myself be called uptight by anyone, especially a man child like you."

Haechan tilted his head, lids dropping as he glanced at your glossed lips. "Don't you ever get lonely," he asked out of the blue.

"What are you talking about?"

"You aren't good at hiding your emotions," he pointed out. "I saw you staring at all the other couples earlier. I know you're lonely."

"I am not lonely," you argue. "I'm perfectly fine by myself, thank you very much."

He raised a brow, not believing your words for one second. "When was the last time someone touched you?"

"W-why do you care?" You didn't mean to stutter, but the mere thought of it was actually starting to drive you insane. It's been a long time. You never meant for it to happen that way, it's just been because of work and family drama that you haven't really been able to find anyone. You've just been so tired and exhausted, sometimes you couldn't even be bothered to touch yourself.

Haechan couldn't take it anymore, being so close to you and you still pretending you didn't want him. He put his hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him and the desk.

"Haechan stop," you said, shocked. You uncrossed your arms, pushing at his chest to get out his grasp, but he wasn't budging. You gulped, the feeling of his soft hands on your skin showing in the cutouts of the dress making your head spin. And he smelled so good, did he always smell this good? Maybe it was the lack of sexual attention, but you were starting to lose your mind right about now.

"You don't really want me to stop do you?" His quiet, warm, nothing like the usual mocking he took with you. It made you wet, and you didn't like that. His hands moved to your lower back, rubbing circles on your body.

Your heart was beating out your chest at this point and you just kept getting wetter and wetter with the way he was talking to you, looking at you, just being near him was enough. You didn't realize how touch deprived you had been, but now you're too deep to get out. Your mouth went dry trying to fish the words out your head. For the first time in your life, you're completely speechless.

"I'll take that as a no." Haechan moved his hands back to your sides, raising them ever so slowly till his thumbs brushed the underside of your chest. "I can feel your heart beating. Fuck that's hot."

You stood there completely still letting him touch you. He was so close to you, you could feel his breath on your skin. You couldn't help but let your eyes flicker to his lips, they were so pretty and plump, and probably really soft.

"You wanna kiss me don't you," he whispered, leaning into you. His mouth hovered over yours the perfect amount, lips brushing over yours lightly. "It's okay, just admit it Y/N. You wanna kiss me. You wanna fuck me."

Gulping, you shook your head, but Haechan was quick to see how your brows furrowed. "No.."

"I bet you wore this pretty dress just for me didn't you," he accused, laughing dryly when you scoffed. Haechan trailed his hands down your body again going directly to your ass, gripping it hard, but not too rough. "You want me to tell you what I want right now?"

"If you were man enough, you'd just do it." You were completely caught off guard when he planted a firm smack to your ass smiling and biting his lip. You let out a gasp, fingers taking a soft hold of his shirt. "H-haechan, don't do that," you stuttered. You wanted to not like it, but you did. You liked it a lot and you wanted him to do it again. At that moment, you just happened to look down and see that he was fully hard, straining against his pants.

"You talk too much," he mumbled. He was breathing heavily, taking every bit of energy in his body to restrain himself from jumping off the desk and bending you over.

"Shut me up."

Haechan wasted no time capturing your lips on his in a heated, messy kiss. Your hands flew to his face, holding it as you kissed him deeply. He still tasted like the whiskey he was drinking earlier and his lips are softer than you imagined. The little moans that left your mouth made him dizzy. He always thought of this moment, always feeling like it would be a bit anticlimactic, but he was so wrong.

Haechan moved you back a bit, lips still on yours as he hopped off the desk and spun you around. He pressed his body against yours, fingers traveling up the slit in your dress. "Are you kidding," he said against your lips, smirking to himself. "You're not even wearing shorts under this. Fuck, you drive me crazy."

He slips his hand between your legs, parting lips with you when he feels exactly how wet you are. "Fuck babe is literally down your legs."

You hide your face in his neck from embarrassment. He affects you too easily and all you had to do was hide it till someone could find the both of you. But here you were, kissing him, letting him touch you.

"Nuh uh, look at me," he said gently, making you face him. He pulled his fingers from under your dress, your arousal making them glisten in the low light. "So this is what I do to you hm? And you said you'd never fuck me."

"Shut up," you whined softly. "You're so annoying."

"I can't be as annoying as this pussy aching to be fucked, can I?" He put his fingers up to your mouth, looking at you like he was about to pounce. "Suck it."

"What? No," you refused, shaking your head slightly.

"Suck. It."

Haechan's tone suddenly changed, going from teasing and soft to demanding. You stopped talking and licked his fingers, wrapping your lips around them tasting yourself in your tongue. And if you didn't know any better, you'd say the look you were giving him right about now could make him cum alone.

"That's it," he cooed. "That's a good girl." Heat rushed to you when he took his fingers out your mouth, looking away to avoid his hungry gaze. Haechan let out a chuckle, kissing you softly. "Now let's get this dress out the way hm?" Haechan turned you around gently, unzipping the back of your dress. You let the silk fall off your body, and pool at your feet.

All too quickly, he bent you over the desk, making you gasp in shock. Just when you were about to say something, you felt a hard smack on your ass. "Fuck," you choked out through gritted teeth.

"That's for saying no the first time."

Smack.

"That's for the second time."

Smack.

The list kept going and going, some smacks harder than the next. You completely forgot where you were at the point, moans and groans becoming louder with each hit. You were sure you weren't gonna be able to sit without feeling pain for a bit.

"God you're enjoying this aren't you," he chuckled darkly. "you're so wet, it's dripping all over the floor. I should make you lick it up."

Panicked, you shook your head fast. "N-no."

"It's okay I wouldn't do that to you. Yet." He moves down your spine with his fingers, snapping your bra against your skin making you whine softly. "God, you're really loving this aren't you."

You started hearing the clink of him undoing his belt, the sound making you both nervous and excited. You needed this so badly, you were so sensitive, any touch, sound, taste would probably send you over the edge. You were pretty sure you were going to cum if he kept spanking you.

Haechan quickly pulled himself out of his pants quickly, cock already dripping with precum. "Now you tell me. Should I just fuck you or should I make you wait like you made me?"

"Haechan please, just fuck me," you whispered breathlessly. You absolutely hated begging for anything. It was so embarrassing that you went from yelling at him and demanding him to now pleading for him to be inside you.

"I wonder what all those people out there would say if they saw you like this." He rubbed his tip against your core, pushing it against your panties teasingly. You arched you back against him, wanting to feel more of him. "You're like a bitch in heat. Fuck Y/N, you needed this for a long time didn't you?"

You nodded fast, pressing your legs together for some pressure. "Please Haechan just give it to me already."

"Since you asked so nicely.." Haechan ripped your panties to your ankles, eyes never leaving the absolute mess between your legs. Pressing his tip on your entrance, he held your hip tight. Slowly, he pushed himself into you letting you feel the stretch you long needed. And at that moment, a look of surprise spread across his face when you let out a loud shaky whimper fluttering around him.

"Did you just cum," he said, mocking tone lacing his voice.

"I-I couldn't help it," you said, voice muffled on the table. You wanted to say something else, but was cut off by the feeling of him thrusting into you slowly. With each movement, you let out a choked moan. He thrusted so deep into you, you could feel every inch of him. The feeling was so intoxicating that you started to move your hips at the same time as him.

"Good girl," he grunted lowly. "Fuck that pretty pussy on this cock."

Your moans filled the room, the constant whimpers jumping off the walls back into your ears. Haechan took your arms and pinned them to your back when he started to fuck you faster. Your face was pressed on the smooth wooden desk practically drooling. You jumped feeling him plant a hard smack on your ass. "F-fuck!"

"You like that?"

"Mhm," you whimpered, hissing at the feeling of another smack. Haechan smacked your ass again, pounding into you hard. Your skin pinched slightly against the edge of the desk, but the pain mixed with the pleasure made your eyes roll back. "Haechan, I-I'm gonna cum."

"No you're not," he growled. Haechan pulled out of you and lifted your body off the desk. Haechan turned you around, lifting you and sitting your body on the wood. He pushed your body down looking at the mess he made of you. Your makeup was a mess, drool and small tears painting your cheeks. In his eyes, you were an absolute dream. So pretty, messy, weak, submissive and it was all for him.

Haechan swiftly pulled your hips off the edge of the desk, making you groan quietly. He lined himself back with your core, pushing himself in you and bottoming out. Haechan gave you no time to make sense of the change in position, fucking into you quick and hard.

"Haechan," you whined loudly, wrapping your legs around his waist. You were intoxicated in his touch, eyes practically rolling to the back of your head when his hand rubbed up your body and around your neck.

"These are in the way," he mumbled, a grin spreading on his lips. And with that, he ripped the pearl necklace off your neck, the sound of the tiny expensive balls hitting the ground all around the both of you.

"That..that was expensive," you moaned breathlessly, brows furrowing at the pressure around your neck.

"Don't worry babe I can buy another one." He squeezed your neck the right amount almost as if he knew it was perfect. Your hands flew to his wrist, squeezing it as you stared up at him lost in the feeling of him filling you up.

"I'm gonna cum," you whimpered breathlessly.

"Cum. Cum for me Y/N," he grunted, slamming into you. "Fuck I'm so close." He took his hand on your neck, plunging it between your legs, rubbing your neglected clit fast.

You were so fucked out of your mind, so sensitive to the point where you couldn't even form a coherent sentence. All you could do is reach up and make grabby hands to communicate with him, and luckily for you, he understood. Haechan leaned down, kissing you messily and passionately. You held onto his shirt, your grip so strong he was afraid you'd pop a button.

"Haechan, I…I" You came around him with a loud high pitched whine, core squeezing around him right. Your ankles locked around his waist, not letting him go until you calm down from your high. Once your grip weakened, he pulled out of you quickly making you whine at the loss of him. Haechan stroked himself quickly above your limp tired body.

"Shit." He came on your stomach, the white fluid sticking to your lace lingerie painting your pretty skin.

The both of you stayed where you were for a minute allowing yourselves to catch your breaths. That's when it dawned on you that you just fucked Haechan, the one person you said you would never fuck. But you didn't feel bad about it or even embarrassed. In fact, you waited for the moment for a long time.

Haechan broke your deep thoughts patting your cheek to get your attention. "You okay down there?"

"Why wouldn't I be," you huffed, sitting up on your elbows weakly. You watched Haechan eye your body, jaw clenching when he got to the mess on your stomach.

"I wanna put a baby in you so badly," he mumbled.

"Okay, that's moving pretty fast," you laughed softly. "I can't believe we just did that."

"It was bound to happen." Haechan whipped the sweat off his brow, pushing his already messy hair back. "I always thought about how this moment would happen."

"Of course you did. That's probably all you could think about for the past couple of months," you snickered.

"You say that like you didn't have wet dreams about me and probably thought about me when you-"

"Okay, okay. You win" you said quietly accepting defeat. "It's so..hot in here."

"Do you think the window will open?"

"I don't know. Give it a try."

Haechan fixed himself up quickly and walked to the window. He placed his hands on the underside of the window, not thinking that it would open at all due to how old the house was, but to his and your surprise, it did.

"Are you fucking kidding me," you groaned softly.

"Don't be mad. At least you got some dick out of this," he teased.

"Shut up and just help me get dressed."

"If I help you, will you go on a date with me?"

"If I agree, will you stop being annoying and never talk about this again?"

"Can't make any promises to that, but I can promise to buy you a new necklace."

"Then we have a deal."

[cameronspecial]

I love The imagine with Pope having a crush on The reader that’s Rafe’s girl Could you perhaps do a part 2. If you want. Jealous, posesive and protective Rafe is my literal drug 😂🩷

The Lesson (Part 2)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Thornton!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.4K

Pope may have gotten the message that Y/N is Rafe’s, but it doesn’t stop him from having heart eyes for her when Rafe isn’t around. However, Rafe has a newer and more annoying problem. That problem is Matthew Simmons. He’s a Pogue, who works at the club and goes to the same university as Y/N. From what Rafe understands, they were even in a few group projects together. 

Rafe is out on the golf course with Topper and Kelce, leaving Y/N at the club to spend her time doing whatever she wants. Normally, it is doing some paperwork for her internship. “Do you ever take a break?” Matthew questions from behind her. She turns toward him with a smile, “Yes, but I need to finish this before tomorrow.” Matthew nods, sitting across from her. “I see. Well, maybe you could take a break and perhaps, have dinner with me?” Matthew proposes with a hopeful smile. At that moment, the boys are returning from their game of golf. “Oh, no. You aren’t going to like this, Rafe,” Topper warns upon seeing Y/N with Matthew. Rafe’s head darts to where Topper is looking and his ears start to turn red.

He quickly approaches the pair and slides his hand around her waist. “Is this guy bothering you, Princess?” She grins at his physical contact. “No, baby. We are just having a conversation,” she notes, head leaning back into his neck kisses. He lets the silence continue while he gives her a hickey. Matthew watches the whole thing gawkily. “Well, mind if I take you away from this conversation and take you out for dinner. I was thinking of that expensive Italian place you like on the mainland. We can go to dinner then get a hotel room,” he offers with a smirk because he knows that Matthew could never give her what Rafe can. 

“Actually, baby, Matthew just asked me to go to dinner,” she informs Rafe, looking back at Mattew with a smile. Rafe doesn’t like her attention on Matthew and turns her head towards him to place a kiss on her lips. Matthew interrupts the moment, “Uh, it’s okay, Y/N. You can go out with him. That sounds like a much better evening than what I was thinking.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” he promises, getting off from the bar stool and making his exit. Y/N gives Rafe an annoyed look, “Did you really have to chase him away?” “Of course, I did. Princess, you have my heart completely and you bet I’m gonna do whatever I can to stop you from giving it back to me.” Y/N just shakes her head, “You really are something else, baby.” 

[ro-is-struggling]

Enemies to lovers in which Character A and Character B have a bet in which if Character B loses they have to go on a date with Character A. But it's not a normal date, but an event prepared to be remembered as the worst experience of their life. Only in the middle of the date they realize they can have fun together {Brooklyn 99 1x13}

Congratulations on 600 followers! 💕🫶🏻

I think this will be really cute with Spencer Reid (in which he is Character A). They’ve been secretly inlove with each other but none of them knows and they hide behind the “enemies” facade. During the “date”spencer would notice that reader is acting really weird and he unintentionally profiled her and he realized reader’s behavior seems to be pointing to the fact that she likes him. Spencer wouldn’t believe at first so he decided to ask reader about it jokingly and reader’s reaction gave it away. Would be cute if spencer keeps teases her about it throughout the date before admitting his own feelings. (And maybe makeout because why not 🫣)

Hi beautiful! Thank you so much for participating in the celebration!! I loved your request and I had a lot of fun writing it but I just noticed that I made a little mistake. I misread your message and I put Spencer as Character B aka the one that loses the bet. The rest of the request it's the same, so I hope you don't mind!

The Bet || Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After losing a bet, Spencer is forced to go on a date with you. You planned everything to make it the worst date of his life as a way to torture him for how annoying he was with you all the time. However, you end up discovering that you are able to have a good time together without arguing like children and by the end of the night you uncover the true meaning behind the tension you always felt when you were together. 

Warnings: enemies/rivals to lovers, idiots in love, fluff, sexual tension, teasing, make out session, baby Spence

English is not my first language

Word count: 5000

Notes: part of this fic was revealed to me in a dream so if it doesn't make sense that's why. Also this is my first time writing for Spencer so I’m sorry if it’s bad :(

Spencer regretted participating in the bet the moment he saw your evil grin. He should have left you talking to yourself when you argued with him that part of the unsub profile they were looking for was wrong. That was what he did most of the time anyway. Arguments and competitions between you were not uncommon and Spencer had learned very quickly that you were very stubborn, so sometimes to keep your rivalry from affecting his work he was the one who de-escalated situations by leaving you talking to yourself or just agreeing with you.

But this time it was different. The tension that was usually in the air whenever you were together was particularly heavy. Spencer could never really decipher what it meant, he could just feel it in the air whenever you were around. He didn't think it was hate —he didn't hate you and you didn't seem to hate him—, but the way you handled it was close to it. It was a rivalry. A rivalry that had been born out of nowhere. He didn't remember any particular situation that had started it, but for some reason you guys always argued. And that stupid rivalry was what had led him to this situation. 

For some reason the discussion you'd had about the now solved case had been more intense than usual. Spencer wasn't sure why, you guys had had disagreements over more important things than that in the past. He attributed it to exhaustion and frustration over the difficulty of the case, but part of him knew that wasn't entirely true. Whatever the reason, he was particularly determined to prove his point, so when you proposed a bet he accepted without thinking, certain that he would win. 

Needless to say, he was wrong and was now obliged to go on a date with you. But it wasn't just any date. No, that would have been too easy. This date was not a friendly one, but an event planned by you to be specifically horrible for him. You had promised him the worst date of his life when you won the bet and at the time Spencer had thought it couldn't be that bad. But now seeing the smile on your face he was beginning to question it.

"Ready to have the worst day of your life?" you asked him as soon as he got into your car. You picked him up at the exact time you agreed upon, not a minute more, not a minute less.

"I don't know, I had some really bad days while growing up. I don't think you can do worse" he said as flashes of his worst memories ran through his mind like a very depressing movie. Being a genius child had brought him nothing but trauma during his school years, especially in the love department. To this day chills ran down his spine whenever he heard the word date.

"Oh we'll see about that," you replied with a smile before starting the engine.

The road was filled with silence, the soft melody of the music on the radio the only sound echoing through the vehicle. Spencer wasn't good with small talk, especially when you were present. He never knew what to say because everything could end up in an argument between you. Sometimes he thought you were doing it on purpose, that somehow you had fun testing his limits. You always seemed to have something to say, an opinion that contradicted his. In fact, it was kind of impressive, annoying, but impressive nonetheless.

Spencer would be lying if he said he didn't find your discussion stimulating. He would never admit it out loud —especially not to you—, but you sometimes pushed him to think outside the box, to question things he might not have otherwise. You had a very unique way of seeing the world and when your views clashed with his, very interesting things happened in his mind. Although your eagerness to contradict him annoyed him, Spencer also felt that it made him a better detective and profiler. And for that he was a little grateful to you. Just a little. Sometimes.

"Where are we going?" he asked, breaking the silence as he noticed you were getting farther and farther out of town. 

"It's a surprise," you replied without looking away from the road.

"We're in the middle of nowhere. What could we possibly do around here?"

"Take a guess."

"Are you going to kill me?" Spencer joked, though part of him did feel like he was in the beginning of a horror movie. "Is that your big surprise?"

"No, silly! That would ruin all the fun." You laughed thinking about everything you had planned for today. You weren't going to kill him, but by the end of the day you were pretty sure he would wish he was dead. 

"Then what is it?" he insisted and you let out a frustrated sigh, reaching down to pull something out of the glove compartment of the car.

"Well, since you want to ruin the surprise... here." You passed him a flyer, which he read with horror as he realized the fate that awaited him. "We're going hiking! Isn't it great? And by great I mean awful for you."

You were right, it was bad for him. Spencer hated the outdoors and the activities associated with it. He wasn't good at sports and hated the heat and sweat that typically accompanied outdoor activities. Not to mention how much he hated bugs. He could spend the afternoon in a park reading or playing chess with no problem. He enjoyed the breeze and the sunlight as long as he was sitting under a tree on a park bench where he didn't have to sweat or do any kind of physical activity. 

 "Do we really have to do this?" he asked, and by 'we' he meant him.

"Rules are rules, man" you told him, patting him on the back.  "Sorry, but you lost the bet. Better luck next time."

Spencer was definitely not dressed appropriately for hiking. You hadn't given him any instructions or clues as to what you were going to do so he dressed as he always did. And now he had to suffer the heat by wearing long pants and a shirt whose thick fabric didn't allow his body to breathe properly. His shoes were not appropriate for such an occasion either, hurting his feet after fifteen minutes of walking. 

Sweat made his clothes cling to his body, making the experience even more uncomfortable. He was breathing heavily, agitated by the physical activity. You were definitely walking faster than normal on purpose, enjoying his misery. The only moments of rest he had were when you stopped to take pictures of the beautiful surroundings or some animal wandering around, and even that wasn't enough to catch his breath. 

"Okay you win! This is awful, can we stop now?" Spencer asked between ragged breaths, pausing for a moment to rest. 

"Why would we stop?"

"Because I'm tired and sweaty... haven't you had your fun already? I think you tortured me enough, let's go back." You looked at Spencer for a moment before letting out a long laugh. The poor little boy thought this was all you had planned, how foolish!

"Oh honey! I have much more planned for today, this is not even the worst part" you told him and Spencer felt a shiver run down his spine. What worse things could you have planned? "Now let's go, we're close to your next surprise."

He ran after you, asking you about what you had planned, but no matter how many times he insisted you didn't give up even the tiniest detail. The suspense was killing him, but according to you that was part of the fun. So now, in addition to being tired, sweaty and upset, Spencer was also worried about what the future held. He was convinced that nothing could be worse than walking for what felt like an eternity under the sun, not knowing where he was going and when he'd get there, but looking at the evil grin on your face made him doubt that. 

Finally, after about 30 more minutes of walking, you stopped. Turning around, you asked him to cover his eyes and keep them closed until you told him otherwise. Spencer hesitated for a moment, he had too many traumatic memories from his school years that advised against it. In his experience, nothing good came from someone asking him to wear a blindfold to surprise him. But even though his instincts told him otherwise, he followed your instructions. Spencer knew you weren't that kind of person. Sure, you'd argue and get on each other's nerves, but he knew you'd never do anything to really hurt him. So he let you blindfold him and guide him to your destination. 

Spencer tripped over rocks and branches a couple of times and you laughed in his face each time, but you still held his hand to make sure nothing happened to him. As you walked you realized that this was the first time you had ever held his hand. In all the time you knew him you had never had the opportunity to hold his hand, not even to greet him on your first day at BAU. You discovered then that you liked the feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours, it awakened a strange warm feeling inside you that you didn't fully understand. You didn't bother to think about it either, fearing what it might awaken, so you concentrated on guiding Spencer to his second surprise, remembering that this was all supposed to be a way to get back at him for all the times he'd bothered you at work and nothing more.

"Okay, we're here, you can look now" you announced when you arrived at your destination, letting go of his hand as if it had burned you. "Ta-da!" you exclaimed when Spencer opened his eyes, proud of your creation.

It took the young genius a few seconds to adjust his eyes to the light after being blindfolded for so long, but when he regained his sight he discovered that his second surprise was a picnic. There were blankets and cushions for you to sit on, baskets of food and a large tent where you could shelter from the sun. And in the center of it all was a large sign with the words 'I was right!' written in big letters.

“Wow!” Spencer exclaimed, not sure what else to say. "You did all this?"

"Yes! Well, technically I paid someone to do it for me but it was my idea."

Spencer had to admit that this wasn't as bad as he'd expected. Sure, the idea of eating while sitting on the ground surrounded by dirt and bugs after spending the last hour walking wasn't the best, but he couldn't deny that having a place to rest for a while was a blessing for him at the moment. He didn't quite know what your intention behind the picnic was, but he thought it might have impacted him a little more if that had been the first activity of the day. In his eyes, nothing could be worse than hiking. 

"You put a lot of effort into this," Spencer said as you ate, admiring the level of detail in the picnic, from the amount of food to the decorations around it. It was as if you were in your own little pillow fort, taking refuge from the rest of the world.

"Of course I did! I've been planning this for months" you replied with honesty. You had arranged to have this date three times already, but given the erratic nature of your jobs you had to postpone it to attend to an urgent case. You were beginning to believe that you would never be able to celebrate your victory when you found a space in your busy schedules to have your date. "I told you I was right."

Spencer chose to ignore that last comment, a clear taunt to make him fight you. "How much money did you waste on this?"

"Probably more than I should have, but it's sooo worth it! And this isn't even the worst part." 

Spencer was silent for a moment, imagining what other things you might have planned for your date and in what ways they might be worse. When you made the bet, he thought the date would be much more casual than this. He expected you to set up some activity you knew he wouldn't enjoy just to torment him, even imagined you'd spend all day gloating about your victory, mentioning every chance you got how you'd outsmarted him. But this felt different. Yes, you were annoying him on purpose, but it felt much more... personal than what he expected. With every little thing you did you demonstrated a level of knowledge about him and his interests that didn't seem to come from the person he argued with almost every day. You had put so much effort into this, planning more than one activity with a clear attention to detail. It almost felt like you were trying to impress him.

"It's funny, if I didn't know you better I would think you liked me and that you were doing all this to impress me." Spencer finally spoke. He made it sound like a joke, even though part of him meant it. He studied your reaction carefully, searching your expression for answers to all his doubts.

"What? No!" you affirmed, looking at him with confusion. Why would he think you liked him? And what was worse, why did his accusation make the blood in your body rush to your cheeks?

"Do you like me, Y/N?" Spencer spoke in a soft but firm tone, his eyes never leaving your face. You felt self-conscious under his intense gaze, fearing that any move you made, however subtle, would be caught by the skilled profiler and used against you. 

Did you actually like Spencer?

"No!" you claimed, but even you had to admit it hadn't sounded convincing at all.

"You do!"

"No I don't! It doesn't make any sense, I literally planned this whole date to make you miserable. What part of that tells you I like you?"

"All the effort you put into this date," he replied as if it were obvious. "And how nervous you're getting."

His sudden confidence took you by surprise. "I-I'm not nervous!" you tried to defend yourself, but your voice betrayed you, putting a smile on Spencer's face. "Shut up, Reid!"

You stopped by your house before the last surprise you had planned for the day. You both needed a shower after the long walk in the sunshine and you were in desperate need of some time away from Spencer to collect your thoughts. Besides, you had one of the central elements for the third surprise tucked away in your closet, so you needed to get back anyway.

You used your time in the shower to think about what had happened. Was it possible that Spencer was right? Did you have a crush on him? Your first reaction was to think it was ridiculous. Yes, he was attractive, but that was about it. From the first moment you met you did nothing but argue and drive each other crazy. The only reason Hotch hadn't transferred you to another team was because you knew how to pick your battles and because according to him your constant bickering made you better at your jobs. You never stopped to think that maybe there might be something else behind the strange tension that followed you around. But now you were beginning to question yourself.

"C'mon Reid! We're gonna be late," you rushed him as you inspected your appearance in the mirror near the entrance. Your long dress fit you perfectly, hugging your curves in all the right places, your hair was behaving as it should, maintaining the shape you had styled it in, and your high heels weren't killing you. You just needed some lip gloss and your look would be complete.

"Why do I have to wear this?" Spencer yelled from the room where he was putting on the outfit you had left him. "Where are you taking me?"

"You know I can't answer that," you yelled back, tucking your cherry flavored lip gloss into your purse. "Now get your ass here or I'll come and get you!"

A couple of minutes later you heard the door open and Spencer emerged from the hallway. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes fell upon his tall, slender figure wearing the suit you had chosen for him. The idea behind his overly formal attire was to make him feel uncomfortable since the place you were going to didn't require that kind of clothing, but it was having the opposite effect. Spencer looked beautiful in that black suit, it gave him a different aura, much more confident and dominant than you were used to. And it was making you feel things.

However, Spencer didn't feel more confident, on the contrary, he felt strange as he wasn't used to wearing that kind of attire. He felt more confident in his nerdy clothes, his ugly sweaters and knit cardigans, a style that might not be popular, but that made him feel like himself. And that fancy suit wasn't necessarily himself. He considered not leaving your room, giving up and begging you to have mercy on him. But when he saw your reaction to his new appearance he felt both embarrassed and confident at the same time, if that made any sense. 

He hated being the center of attention, he hated people's overreactions to his changing appearance —that was the reason why he always kept the same style, except for his hair of course. But for some reason the look of pure surprise and admiration in your eyes awakened a wave of confidence in him. Apparently Spencer liked being the center of attention if you were the only one watching him. 

"Y/N are you okay?" he said when he saw that you didn't react.

"What?" you mumbled distractedly, your brain struggling to function properly.

"Are you okay?" This time Spencer had a small smile on his face, the corners of his lips curving upward so slightly it was almost imperceptible. It seemed his theory wasn't so crazy after all.

"Yeah, umm, yeah I'm fine. Let's go."

The walk to the bar where you planned to end the date wasn't as quiet as the first drive you'd shared. You were a little more comfortable with each other so you were able to make conversation and even joke around a bit. Spencer asked you about your interest in photography, surprised to find out something about you that he didn't already know —after all, you spent so much time together solving cases that it was hard not to know every little detail about your coworkers' lives. You told him it was a hobby you had recently picked up, as well as your interest in learning to embroider and knit. You joked that you were going through your granny phase and promised to make him a new sweater as soon as you perfected your technique. 

That car ride was the first time since you had known each other that you had a conversation without feeling the heavy tension in the air putting you on edge. It was nice, you got a chance to see another side of Spencer that didn't trigger the need to antagonize him inside you, a much calmer, more relaxed side. However, things between you went back to normal when you reached your destination.

"A couples dance?" Spencer said, looking at you with a raised eyebrow when he discovered what his final surprise was all about.

"It's a competition! The last couple to stand at the end of the event wins a prize!" you explained, taking him by the hand and dragging him to the dance floor, where several couples were dancing to the music. As Spencer looked around, he noticed how out of place your attire was in comparison to the other participants. He couldn't help but feel embarrassed by the curious stares of the crowd, though you didn't seem to mind in the slightest.

"Please tell me we don't have to stay here until the end."

"No, technically the event ends when there's only one couple left dancing and that could take hours. I'm not that mean. Besides, I'm sure Garcia would end up calling us to go to work before this thing is over." Spencer laughed knowing that was probably true. It was actually quite surprising that the date hadn't been interrupted by a call from your friend alerting you that there was a new urgent case that needed to be taken care of like the last three times. 

"Do we have to do this?" the genius asked you, looking at you like a child asking his mother not to go to his aunt and uncle's house to stay and play video games. You knew the true meaning behind Spencer's words. He was scared because he didn't know how to dance and the last thing he wanted was to make a fool of himself in front of you. "And why did you choose these outfits?"

"Of course we do! It's my choice, remember?" you told him, taking one of his hands and placing it on your waist. "And the outfits are fun! You should be grateful that I chose this, there were worse options on my list."

"I don't know how to dance," he admitted with embarrassment even though he was sure you already knew that, otherwise why would you have chosen this place?

"Then let me guide you." Your voice was soft. Nothing in your demeanor indicated to him that you had bad intentions, so he trusted you, letting you guide his hands over your body.

Spencer was a little tense at first as a result of his unfamiliarity with the music playing and how strange it was to have you so close to him. His hands barely grazed your body, gripping your waist so gently that you could barely feel his fingers on you. It was as if he was afraid to touch you, as if he thought you were a porcelain doll that would break at the slightest touch. You found it adorable and frustrating at the same time. You wanted to feel his hands on your body, you wanted to know how it felt to be wrapped in his arms. 

"You can touch me, you know," you said. Spencer looked at you for a moment, his beautiful hazel eyes analyzing your expression closely before he complied with your commands. He didn't miss the small sigh that escaped your lips when you felt him tighten his grip on your waist. And when you looked up at him, Spencer noticed your pupils widen.

"Now what?" he asked you, his voice a raspy whisper. It took a couple of seconds for your brain to process his words, confused by the swirl of feelings that assaulted you now that you had Spencer so close. 

"Now we move," you muttered as you regained your cognitive abilities, indicating to him the steps that corresponded to the rhythm that was playing. 

Spencer was a little unsure at first, focusing on trying to relax and let the music and your indications guide him. Dancing wasn't an activity he did consistently or enjoyed very much to be honest and he couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed doing it in front of so many people. But then you asked him to relax, reminding him that it wasn't a professional competition and most of the people there didn't know what they were doing. As he looked up, he saw for himself that you were right —most of the couples were either dancing out of rhythm or laughing at their lack of skill— and that helped him a little. He was then able to loosen up, becoming less afraid of making a fool of himself as he laughed with you every time you made mistakes. He even dared to step outside the structured rules of each rhythm, spinning you around the dance floor before drawing you into his body once more, pressing you against him as you resumed the characteristic steps of the particular rhythm that was playing in the background.

It was strange for Spencer to feel so free and relaxed around you. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he would be spending one of his few days off with you, dancing and laughing as if you didn't spend most of your time at work bickering like children. Spencer was surprised at how much he was enjoying your company. Putting aside your obvious attempts to create an uncomfortable environment for him, the two of you were having a good time. 'The worst date of his life' wasn't so bad after all. 

"I didn't know you could dance," he told you as you lost yourselves in the slow melody that was now replacing the salsa that had echoed through the dance floor the last few minutes. 

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me, Doctor Reid." You spoke in a mysterious, seductive voice, causing Spencer to look at you with an arched eyebrow.

"You know what I think?" he said after a few seconds of silence. "I think I know you better than you think."

"How so?"

"I know you've been to a couple of dates these past few months and that they were all unsuccessful." Spencer said, turning you gently in your place before pulling you to him once more. His voice was soft and calm, but every word that came out of his mouth awakened a strange tingling inside you. "And I know for a fact that you didn't put this much effort into any of those dates."

"What are you trying to say, Doctor Reid?"

"That you like me," he stated as if it were obvious. "And that coming here was an excuse to have me all dressed up, dancing close to you." His voice was barely a whisper, his face was so close to yours that you could feel his warm breath caressing your skin when he spoke. You were surprised by the confidence in his words and the intensity of his gaze. His eyes never left yours, holding you prisoner under his bright hazel eyes. It was as if you were in a trance, mesmerized by his penetrating gaze that threatened to read your thoughts.

"And what if it was?" You teased him, lowering your gaze to his lips. It was only a second, but it was enough to awaken a fire in Spencer that he rarely felt. "What would you do then?"

There was a moment of silence as you looked into each other's eyes —the famous calm before the storm. The world around you ceased to exist, the music and the murmur of people fading into the background as you dared each other to take the first step. It was just you, him and that damn tension in the air. 

And that's when you understood its true meaning. You didn't feel that way every time you were together because you hated each other or because you found each other annoying. No, you felt that tension in the air because from the first time you had seen each other you had wanted to feel each other's lips caressing your own, you just hadn't known how to interpret the signals your bodies and minds were giving you. It was a feeling that had been ignored by you for a long time and now that you finally understood it you were determined to do something about it.

Spencer beat you for just a second, leaning in and closing the short distance between you in a kiss that took your breath away. All this time you imagined him to be a slow and gentle kisser, but there was none of that in the way his lips moved against yours. There was no room for tenderness in that moment, only passion and desperation as the culmination of months of pent up feelings. 

You struggled to keep up with the rhythm of his lips, clinging to Spencer's shoulders in a desperate attempt to keep yourself grounded. But when his tongue caressed your lower lip asking for permission, you lost what little control you had left. You parted your lips, tilting your head so you could deepen the kiss. You lost yourself in the softness of Spencer's lips, letting the feeling of euphoria take over your body. You had to stifle a moan as you savored the cherry flavor of your lip gloss on his mouth, finding that subtle mark of possession all too arousing. He was yours and you were his.

"Let's go back to my place," you mumbled against his lips as you pulled apart gasping for air. Spencer put up no resistance and soon you found yourselves back in your car. The engine was already running and you were ready to drive as fast as you could within the bounds of the law to get to your apartment as soon as possible, when the ringing of your phone alerted you.

"Looks like we're gonna have to get a rain check on that." You groaned in frustration as you read Penelope's message. "Duty calls." Just as you were finishing saying that, Spencer's phone rang as well with the same message from her friend clarifying in all caps the urgency of the situation. Without a second thought you drove to the office as fast as you could, completely forgetting the outfits you and Spencer were wearing.

Needless to say, you had to endure the teasing and questioning from your colleagues when they saw you arrive —especially Penelope, who pulled you aside and made you promise to tell her every detail when you had time—, but you didn't really care. You were still flying high after that wonderful first kiss and your mind was only focused on one thing: feeling Spencer's lips on yours again.

[yarrayora]

📜Hello! We've been going back and forth for days on how to message you about this, but we wanted to say we really, super love your thoughts on Falin from dungeon meshi and the pov centric art you've made of her. We didn't know if you were interested in hearing this, but we heavily related to Falin a lot, and not just because we always choose the healer/cleric in things ;^^ We're a system, and share souls with more that one being in the same body. We had already liked Falin, but when her shared soul plot with the red dragon kicked off we felt very deeply connected to her then. She really felt like someone we could heavily relate to and wanted to see her arc blossom in the story of Dungeon Meshi. But like you said in your Falin post she gets... essentially table scraps compared to every other important character? Which honestly shocked us considering so much of the narrative revolved around her. This is a bizarre statement, but it's the only way we could describe what we felt to a friend of ours:

Also, um, hello! I'm Marcille of this system. Our own Falin (yes there's also a Falin in here) had her own timeline and interpretation of events. And she basically thought on it so hard that I sort of... popped into existence?? As what "alter type" I am, I was literally labelled "Falin's Girlfriend"... ;>.> I do so hope this ask isn't annoying or aggravating in anyway, for some reason we saw your post and got very excited and wished to talk to someone else who felt similarly to our thoughts on Falin! So, we hope you're having a wonderful day, and keep being you, please! Thank you for existing! 💌- Marcille of the Panda system

thank you for writing paragraphs about this! it's really flattering! I really love Falin and I can understand the disappointment you guys feel about the lack of resolution when it comes to Falin as a person

at the same time it does fuel my creative needs for tragedy considering her role as a reward is Prime Ingredient for that

it's also the reason I started shipping Farcille in the first place

I'm still an Aro Touden Truther but I'm the type who have multiple gender/sexuality headcanons depending on the narrative I want to tell so it's not hard for me to imagine a lesbian/bi Falin too

I like the idea of Falin finally communicating the stuff she hates to her girlfriend instead of just following Marcille's whims

We already had a glimpse of that back in Laios' flashback about his first meeting with Marcille but even then she didn't think she could just tell Marcille no and ended up dragging her to the dungeon to get Marcille's permission to stay as an adventurer, despite her being a grown adult who doesn't need her friend's permission

I'm grateful for the post-canon content showing us how she rejected Shuro's proposal, and how Shuro takes it gracefully

it's an ending that shows people have finally seen Falin as a person instead of an object of affection, or at least Shuro does, and how much agency Falin has gained after losing her free will when turned into a chimera

There's something about how she has to be turned into a beast that can't speak her own mind for people to finally hear her voice

[beaker1636]

The Scavenger Hunt - Ricky Olson Master List and Intro

AN: Enjoy this teaser of a story that I am starting to write, expect nothing but emotional fluff and cuteness!

“Hey Kayla, I need your help with something.  But you can’t tell y/n about it, I want your help with proposing to her, call me when you get the chance please,” Rick sends the message to your sister, knowing that if he is going to pull this off how he wants to she needs to help walk you through everything.

You should be able to figure it out yourself but he wants you to have someone to talk the answers through, help you with ideas as you think about what you need to do next.  And while his friends are helping him with the rest of it, he needs her help on your end.

About an hour later his phone rings, and when he notices the name on the screen he lets out a sigh before answering, glad that it is Kayla.  “Hey, thank you for calling me back.  Are you game for helping me?”

“Of course but don’t I have to know what I am helping you with before I can answer for sure?” She asks, teasing the man, but also because she loves getting under his skin.  It is something that she has always excelled in, has made it her mission to annoy him as much as she has always done to you… and has succeeded at.

“I want to make it a puzzle, do a scavenger hunt type thing.  So you would give her the first rose, which would have a note and clue tied to the stem for her to read.  Once she figures out what the first clue is that would lead her to where the next rose is.  One of the guys or our friends would be there to give her the next one, and it would continue until she is given the 12th one.  The last one would tell her where I am and that would be where I finally ask her.  I would like you to stick with her the entire day and not answer her where to go but be there for her to talk the clues out with, to figure out what to do or where to go.  Plus you are so close I want you to be part of the day, if I keep you in the loop will you do this for me? For us?” Rick asks, letting out a soft sigh while he listens to your sister's line, which is silent as she processes what he asks.

“I would love to help, you tell me when and where to be and we will do it.  That is such a sweet way to ask her, perfect for her as much as she loves figuring puzzles out.  She is going to love this, and I would be honored to have a part in this.  Let me know what all you need help with and I will get started with it,” your sister answers, even though Rick can’t see it he knows that there is a huge smile on her face.  Your entire family has been pressuring him for a while to ask you, so he knows that she is  excited about this.

Now to figure out the exact details of each of his clues and get everything into place so that he can act on this and finally ask you to marry him.

The First Clue- Where We Met

The Second Clue- Confessions

The Third Clue- Our First Date

The Fourth Clue- Our First Kiss

The Fifth Clue - First I Love You

The Sixth Clue - Where I Met Your Family

The Seventh Clue - Where You Met The Guys

The Eighth Clue - Our First Goodbye

The Ninth Clue - Where We Adopted Our First "Child"

The Tenth Clue - Our Favorite Date Location

The Eleventh Clue - Where You Met My Family and The Final Piece

The End

[gachagon]

Oh wow! It's cool that you're doing drabbles. Good luck! As for my request: could I ask for an Isagi/Bachira fanfic with one of them proposing to the other after winning the World Cup? I think it would be really cute

This idea at first seemed really hard for me since I've never written proposal fics before, but the more I thought about it the more ideas I had. And soon I had way more words then planned on the document lol. This was very fun to write, and I had a lot of back and forth over who I thought would propose first. I originally was going to have Bachira propose because I thought it would be cute, but I realistically think Isagi would ask the question first now. Now the only question I have is who's last name would they pick?

anyways pls enjoy this fic! 2k words just for you lol

Words: 2k

Pairing: BachiSagi

Isagi Yoichi has won the World Cup on japanese soil, though the one thing on his mind during the after party is to see other half and talk with him. He scans the bar for Bachira, until he gets a short message from him, saying he has a surprise for him. Unbeknownst to Bachira, Isagi has his own present to give, one that he has been hiding for many years since they've known each other.

Isagi’s blood was on fire. He couldn’t quite get a grasp on what he just did, though he was vaguely aware that he had scored at least. The game felt so long, and yet so short at the same time. Before he knew it, he was being lifted up high on the shoulders of his teammates. They were congratulating him, ruffling his hair, practically throwing him around in their excitement. Yet now that he was so high up off the ground, his eyes scanned the crowd of people in the stadium. They roved in search of one specific person until he saw a familiar gold gaze locked onto him, an ecstatic expression on Bachira’s face. 

It was then that everything came into clarity, all at once the roaring of the stadium, the announcer’s booming voices over the intercom, his teammates' praises of him. And with the noise came the sudden realization of what had actually just happened. 

Holy shit, we won…A grin spread across his face then and he joined in on the shouting. Isagi had played countless games before, had spent years in the Blue Lock program, and when he finally graduated and was picked to play in the Japanese National Team like he always dreamed, he had set his sights on witnessing this moment first hand. And at the age of 21, he had finally managed to do it. He had won the World Cup for Japan. And on Japanese soil, no doubt. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Drink’s practically crowded the table at the bar, in fact Isagi was certain that nobody had even ordered food. His team was so excited to start celebrating that they had carried him all the way there, or dragged him along by his arm to start the party.  

“Isagi, get over here, you gotta try this!” Raichi and a few of the others had seemingly ordered a large cacophony of drinks that Isagi couldn’t even begin to name. 

He shook his head, “No, no…Thanks, but I think I’ll stick to regular sake instead…” It was the only thing he was really used to and he didn’t want to be totally wasted on the night of his big win. 

“You guys are pigs, you know that…Just cause he won doesn’t mean you can trash the place…” Chigiri’s annoyed tone spoke from behind. He had a disgusted look on his face as he eyed the crowded tables full of forgotten drinks. 

“Ah, let ‘em be. This is a big day for everyone, they’re gonna drink themselves to sleep tonight.” Kunigami said with a lazy smile. 

“Don’t encourage them, Rensuke…” Chigiri sighed. 

“If they make too much of a mess, I’ll clean it up. I just hope the staff don’t get sick of us…” Kunigami eyed the poor bar attendants who had been busy making drinks for just about everyone in the team and their friends who had tagged along. It would be a busy night for all of them, certainly. 

Isagi also looked around, as he noticed that there was someone who had yet to show up to the party. 

“Hey…where’s Bachira?” Isagi asked. In truth, he had been looking for Bachira all night since they had corralled him into this bar, but he hadn’t seen him anywhere. For some reason, he was suspiciously absent from the party. Isagi felt a small pit form in his stomach, a sense of disappointment he wasn’t used to when it came to Bachira. 

“I texted him a while ago, but I don’t know if he ever responded.” Chigiri said.  

Isagi’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he immediately took it out. 

Monster: Hey! Come outside! On the balcony! 

Monster: I have a present! 

Isagi’s head shot up and he looked to where the bar’s balcony was. Outside, Bachira waved at him from the window with a smile on his face. “I’m going to the balcony. See you guys later! Oh, and please don’t put any more on my tab…I don’t think my wallet can take it anymore…” He quickly left the others to party without him, and slipped outside into the cool night air. 

Bachira grabbed Isagi’s arm and dragged him out of sight of the big balcony window. “Ah, hey Bachira, where are we going?” Isagi asked. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to say hi to him, or hug him. 

“No time for questions, just keep moving! It’ll be totally worth it, I promise!” Bachira said as he continued to pull Isagi along. He followed close behind, smiling. 

Soon, Isagi found himself in a pretty familiar place. The lampposts and signs were a dead giveaway, but once they stood in front of the fenced in soccer field Isagi was certain of where they were. 

“Is this…Ichinan’s old field?” It looked a bit different after all those years, but the more he looked around, the more he was certain of it. 

“Yeah, but that’s not the surprise.” Bachira said. He turned Isagi around fully, and then pointed up. “That is.” 

Isagi was left speechless. Normally, the Ichinan field would sit directly behind his old school and he remembered how he would always have to rush to practice from one side of the building, to the other. Yet what greeted him now on the side of the building was a mural that was not there before, one that showed him in his jersey and a ball beneath his feet in the middle of play. It covered the entire side of the building, and was unmistakably a portrait of Isagi playing on the field. 

“I…This is…” He didn’t know what to really say. “This wasn’t done…today? Was it?” It couldn’t have been, such work would take a month at least. Bachira scoffed.

“Of course not. We started working on it a while back when you were in France.” Bachira answered. “We had to work quickly too! We wanted it to be done in time for the World Cup, you know, as a present for when you won.” 

Isagi choked out a laugh, as he felt tears brim his eyelashes. “And what if I had lost, huh?” 

“Eh, we’d come up with some reason. And making it to the World Cup is still a huge deal!” Bachira nudged him. 

“Who’s this ‘we’ you keep mentioning…?” Isagi couldn’t imagine Bachira painting it all by himself, though it wouldn’t have surprised him if Bachira tried anyways. He’s amazing like that…Isagi thought as he glanced at Bachira. 

“Me and Mom, obviously. She was really happy to do this, when I brought it up to her. This is her biggest mural yet, you know.” Bachira sighed. “I’m not that good at art, but I learn quick. See, I did the grass there beneath your feet!” 

“Oh really? What else did you paint…” Isagi and Bachira walked up to the mural, and the two spent a while as they went over all the small details. Bachira and Yu, his mother, had split most of the work pretty evenly. Bachira got to paint the grass, and the ball, and his mother spent time painting Isagi’s jersey and his cleats. 

Bachira was really proud to have done Isagi’s face. “Wow, it looks just like me.” Isagi said in a wondrous tone. 

“My mom kept having trouble with it, because she kind of hasn’t seen you in a while…” Bachira chuckled. “Great thing I’ve got such an amazing memory, huh? I couldn’t forget your face if I tried.” 

Isagi laughed alongside him, as he stared up at the mural. His gaze landed on Bachira’s again and they looked into each other's eyes for a moment. “This is incredible, Meguru.” Isagi said with a soft smile. “You’re incredible.” 

Bachira looked away just then, as he blushed in that familiar way that Isagi loved. “Geez, this is supposed to be a gift for you, you know…” Bachira said. 

Isagi laughed, “Yeah I know. Thank you…” Isagi felt an indescribable warmth fill his heart the more he continued to look into Bachira’s amber eyes, and soon he leaned towards Bachira and pressed his lips against his. They had shared many kisses before, in secret mostly so that there could be no scandal involving rivals on different teams. Though this kiss was sweeter somehow, and was different from the casual affection they had grown to show one another over the course of their relationship. 

Isagi placed his forehead against Bachira’s with a content smile on his face. “I love you.” Isagi had also said this many times before, but it also sounded sweeter than normally. 

Bachira threw his arms around Isagi’s neck in a tight hug, “I love you, too! I’m glad you liked your present, at least…for some reason I felt really nervous when we were planning it, but eventually I got the hang of it as you can see!” 

“Meguru.” 

“And let me tell you, learning to paint in like a month is no easy task, even for me. My mom had quite the work cut out for her when she handed me those brushes, but it all turned out perfectly in the end!” Bachira rambled on. 

“Meguru…” Isagi said again with a chuckle. He always does this when he’s happy…

“I’m thinking maybe I could even paint more murals in the future, of course when I’m on break. I can’t give up my soccer career to be an artist that’d just be ridiculous-” 

“Will you marry me, Bachira Meguru?” Isagi could perfectly see the moment when Bachira’s brain caught up to what he heard. His eyes widened as he looked at Isagi, who had that same content smile on his face. 

“What��?” 

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you’ll have me, anyways.” Isagi shrugged as if it was the most normal response to anything. As if he hadn’t asked Bachira something absolutely insane. 

Bachira seemed to short circuit for a moment, before he began to speak again. “I…But we’ve only been dating for 3 years now!” He exclaimed. Isagi’s head tilted to the side, “Oh? Really? It seemed so much longer to me.” he said. “Besides, I’ve loved you for more than 3 years. You know that, right?” Isagi could recall exactly the moment he had fallen in love with Bachira Meguru. It hadn’t happened 3 paltry years ago, or even 5. He hadn’t even noticed he’d fallen for Bachira until he was ripped away from him during the Second Selection, all those years ago when they were all so new to Blue Lock. 

Bachira searched Isagi’s eyes, “But what about soccer! You’re going to give up playing or what? We can’t married so soon-” 

“That’s fine. I can wait.” Isagi said. “I’ll wait for as long as I have to. Even if it means waiting for you to win your own World Cup!” He laughed at Bachira’s shocked face. Bachira babbled as if trying to find some other excuse for why this couldn’t possibly happen. “We’ve spent so long trying to catch up to each other…I guess waiting isn’t normal for us, huh?” Isagi commented, and this finally made Bachira break out of his haze. 

“You would wait for me…? Really?” Bachira’s voice was so small then, tinged with a vulnerability that Isagi hadn’t heard before. 

“As long as it takes.” He answered. 

Bachira smiled, as tears beaded along his eyes. “Then yes, Yoichi. I will marry you! Maybe not…right now, though. In a year or two, perhaps. Or when I win my own World Cup…” 

Isagi smiled wider and kissed Bachira again, though he couldn’t fight off the pure joy that radiated throughout him in that moment. It was a fire that was hotter than the one he felt when he had one earlier that afternoon. Did I really win the World Cup just a few hours ago…? It felt like it had already happened a lifetime ago. 

The longer he pressed his lips to Bachira’s, the more he couldn’t believe today happened. In his eyes, he had achieved the impossible twice in an evening. 

[runnawaythoughtswithme]

Dear Internet,

I am writing to you because I need someone to know what's going on. I need someone to listen.

It's insane how one night can change the entire course of your life. But I never would have thought that one night and conversation with Andrew could change everything. But it did. Of all people Andrew... the goofy, dorky, cocky guy from my office. After July 29th life has not been the same and never will be.

He already had my number for work purposes. I'm the travel and events coordinator for our company and he travels once in a while. He recently had a bad travel experience back on July 18th and called me for help. I was happy to help and stayed awake that night til 1am for him to text me and say he finally landed and made it home safe. We weren't friends at the time, but I just cared because of his crappy travel situation. I think I also cared because when he called me and told me the situation he made light of it and was cracking jokes and making me laugh. I remember thinking what a cool and awesome person who can make lemonade out of lemons. Most people would just be upset and while he was, he also made the best of it and laughed about it.

July 29th comes around and it's about 830pm when I get a notification saying he added me on Snapchat. Now I know what you're thinking, really Snapchat? Yes really. Now I don't really use Snapchat anymore except for the occasional conversation with one of my 2 best friends. The conversation with him started out with a simple Hey. But within a couple hours, we discovered how much we have in common, conversation never slowed down or ran out of things to talk about, it just flowed. And I was grinning ear to ear the entire time.

I had been home alone the night before since my husband, Kyle, was out of town and wouldn't return til Sunday. So I was lonely and eventually I told Andrew that I was enjoying our conversation and it was nice because I was feeling lonely tonight, that he's really cool and I'm glad I'm getting to know him better. The conversation never slowed and before I knew it, it was 4am and he felt like my best friend. We had talked about our upbringing, traumas we've experienced like the fact that we have both been raped, the craziness of his ex-girlfriend, our families, friends, jobs, you name it and we had covered it. There was the occasional joke or innuendo and some casual flirting. But that got stronger as the night went on. By 4am I was sending him a few of the pictures from the boudoir shoot I had told him I did. And he was lusting over them hard but I didn't mind. I liked the attention but more importantly, I liked the attention from him.

A few more risque pictures are exchanged and then he tells me he's getting sleepy at 5am. I reply and he reads the message but no response. He fell asleep with the chat open. I'm on cloud 9 at this point and have gotten a second wind of energy so I'm wide awake. I scroll on TikTok and Instagram for a while before finally it's 630 and he messages me saying he's awake. He's a morning person. Annoying but he's used to waking up at the same time to meditate and then get ready for work so his internal clock just woke him up. At this point all I can think about is food so I work up the courage to ask him if he wants to hang out today and to my surprise he says yes, what do you want to do.

I start to panic because we don't talk or interact at work and yet we are going to go hang out, just the two of us, together. So I propose breakfast at Waffle House and mini golf. He says sounds great what time? I say meet you there at 830 because I needed to shower and get ready.

I choose an outfit that I knew he would like simply because it made my ass look great. Plus the romper was a little on the short side so bending over to play mini-golf would get his attention.

Now at this point of the story, I'm sure you're thinking, "But wait she has a husband what is she doing basically going on a date with another guy??" But what you need to know about my husband is that we have been together for 8 years, married for 4 of those, and we don't communicate. Before you say "All men don't communicate," Kyle is different. I'm not joking when I say we DO NOT communicate, talk, or anything. Talking, communicating, and arguing, all require both people to speak. Kyle never speaks or voices his opinion or side or feelings or anything. When we do 'argue' it's me talking at him than sitting in silence and waiting for Kyle to respond and eventually all he says is I'm sorry, I love you, I don't know what to say. It has ALWAYS been that way. We don't talk or have conversations like normal people or normal couples. There is nothing but me talking and Kyle either doesn't respond, says I don't know, or just okay whatever you want or think honey.

Back to Andrew... I pulled up to Waffle House right next to him not realizing it, and was so incredibly nervous I didn't know if I would even be able to get out of the car but somehow I did. We said good morning walked inside and sat in a booth. After ordering our food, our conversation picked right back up with us laughing and just having a good time. Food and drinks come and the conversation is still going. He's the kind of guy who is funny without really trying, he just jokes around and you laugh. I took a sip of my coffee after swallowing a bite of food and he mimicked the waitress that had been repeating the same phrase in the same tone of voice at every table, and it was too funny not to laugh. But with coffee just at the front of my lips, I spit it all over him. Yes VERY MORTIFYING. Glad we can agree on that. His white t-shirt was now covered in slattered coffee. I think my face turned the brightest shade of red humanly possible. I wanted to dig a hole and bury myself alive in it with humiliation. I apologized over and over and he said it was okay and just laughed at me. We eventually made it to mini golf, established the rules, and that loser buys snow cones.

But never expected for the day to go the way it did....

TO BE CONTINUED...

[mountswhore]

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 — jack grealish

summary: jack meets his celebrity crush at a festival, having no idea you felt the same about him.

notes: requests are open, just ask <3

for @stephspurs

It was no secret that you were his celebrity crush. It was the topic of almost every interview he had.

“So, you’re not shy when posting about Y/N Y/L/N, are you?” The interviewer would ask, Jack letting out a cackle as he reshaped his hair.

“No,” he laughed again, feeling the apples of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose go warm, “no, she’s gorgeous. She’s been my celebrity crush for years. It’s annoying because a lot of the England boys have met her before I have.”

“Well she definitely knows who you are,” the interviewer replies, watching Jack get all flustered at that statement, “she had her ‘Grealish’ England shirt on when we interviewed her on tour.”

You’d been a huge fan of football for years — it being a family tradition to watch the national games together. But with your busy musician schedule, you could only watch backstage before a performance, or on your way to sound check. You’d seen some interviews of some of the England squad, stumbling upon a Jack Grealish one. It was well-known in your close friend group that you had the hots for him, he was gorgeous. And they’d gifted you a Grealish shirt to take on tour with you.

“The way Mount goes on about her, I’d think they have a thing.” Jack admitted to the interviewer, laughing off his statement.

“She said during her interview that she hoped to see some of the squad during Wireless this summer.” Jack’s heart almost stopped, an opportunity to finally meet you had arose.

“I’ll have to book some tickets then.”

And here he was. In London, staying in a hotel room with a few of the England boys in time for Wireless this weekend. Three days of music, having fun, and trying to meet you.

“Jack, mate, you’re sweating.” Jesse observed, grabbing a can of deodorant from the bathroom counter. “Are you really that nervous about this festival?”

“No, he’s nervous about running into Y/N Y/L/N,” Mason poked at Jack’s arm, all the boys collectively laughing at Jack’s rare shyness. Mason, Jesse, Declan and Marcus had all met you before, so Jack was the only one of the group who was yet to meet you.

“He fancies her big time.” Marcus joked, although he was completely telling the truth. Any man with half a brain could figure that one out. “Let’s go. We’re gonna be late.”

“Do you think I should try messaging her? Do you think she’ll see it?” Jesse wondered, reaching for his phone from his crossbody bag.

“She’s probably getting ready, so no.”

Jesse, who didn’t listen to Marcus as he spoke, still tried dm’ing you.

Can’t wait to see your set today. Got the boys with me.

The festival wasn’t a far walk from their hotel, and soon enough they were in. Walking around and getting familiar with the place, the group had made their way to your stage. You wouldn’t be performing until the next hour, and Jack was clearly antsy. He’d been in the company of pretty girls before, but you were different.

That’s so sweet, come to the celeb area after my set and I’ll hang out with you guys, Jesse read the message aloud, the boys patting him on the back and cheering.

“Guess you’ll be meeting your boo thang after all.” Jesse joked, throwing an arm around Jack and bringing him closer to the front of the stage.

The group watched you perform, the crowd jumping along with you. You definitely knew how to entertain a crowd. But once your set was done, the boys were headed to the celebrity area as planned. You’d taken a while to come out, your friends coming out beforehand to greet them and say you were just cooling down.

And there you were. You looked like the physical embodiment of magic. You smiled at the boys, embracing them all and finally getting to Jack. Your friends were taunting you all day about your footballer crush who was going to be watching, and embracing him felt perfect. Like a task was now complete.

“Did you guys watch my set?” You asked, sitting on the couches and grabbing a drink from the table opposite you. The four boys were squashed onto a couch opposite you, engaging in conversation with you and your friends.

“We were in the front row.” Mason laughed, making you all the more nervous.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I tend not to look at the closer crowd, it makes me so nervous.” You admitted, playing with your various rings.

The boys had been laughing and joking with your friends for a while, and it was so strange to see Jack up close. Good, but strange.

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” Jack stood up, stretching his legs and giving you a glance.

“I’ll join you.” You mentioned, standing up and following him out to the main crowd.

You both walked towards one of the vendors, selling all sorts of food and drinks, waiting in the stupidly long queue. Jack was so much taller than you, it was intimidating. But he’d often look down and you and smile cheekily. “You’re a lot taller in real life.”

“And you’re a lot smaller,” Jack commented, the pair of you laughing, “it’s so weird to meet you in person. I’ve been following you on Instagram for like two years. The boys keep teasing me about it.”

“Why do they tease you?”

“I may have a massive crush on you.” Jack suggested, looking up at the oddly shaped clouds as you processed what you’d heard.

“I may have a massive crush on you, too. My friends even bought me a Grealish England shirt.” You confessed, reddened as you covered your face with your hands. All you heard was Jack’s laughter and his arm on your shoulders.

“That’s adorable,” he conceded, retracting his arm back to his side. All the sheepishness had dissolved, and now confident Jack was back. You made him feel so comfortable and he loved it.

Once you’d retrieved your drinks and made your way back to the celebrity area, you stopped in your tracks. Jack had turned to face you, a look of concern on his face. “What’s up?”

“This is gonna sound bold. And you can totally say no, but do you wanna go for a proper drink tomorrow? Or some food? I’m tired of American food.” Jack grinned at your proposal, nodding vigorously.

“Sounds good.”

[dees-writing-corner]

wedding bells - wednesday

pairing: best friend!mingi x fem!reader

word count: 2100

previous | masterlist

If any of you want to be added to the taglist just send me a message <3

"Mingi!" I called out to him as I looked for one of my silver chains on the counter before walking out. "Have you seen my -" 

I paused as I saw him standing in front of the door, "Why are you standing – oh." 

Looking past him, I saw Elle, who started to glare daggers into me the second she saw me. 

"What are you doing here?!" 

I arched an eyebrow at that, "What do you mean what am I doing here? This is my roo-" 

"No, this is Mingi's room." 

I could see Mingi's lip twitch as he tried to suppress a smile, knowing exactly what I was going to do. 

"Yeah, and I'm his girlfriend. We share a room. Now, if you'll excuse us." 

With a smile, I pulled Mingi behind me and closed the door, ignoring whatever she was saying through the door. 

"What did she want?" 

"Dinner." 

I blinked, "Dinner? Why is she asking a guy in a relationship to have dinner with her?" 

Falling on to the bed, Mingi shook his head, "How should I know? I think she's trying to live the K-drama life of 'Ohh, he's her boyfriend? Let me snatch him'. She is literally an anomaly to everyone." 

Rolling my eyes, "Well I hope she isn't like this for the rest of the week, because I swear to god, my patience is already starting to wear. And I'd hate to find out what would happen if she keeps annoying us." 

Seeing Mingi laugh as he tossed, I let out an exasperated sigh when the bed sheets were messed up, "Mingi, dude, I JUST made that bed, can you get off? We still need to go and meet up with Minho and Laura for lunch in town." 

Walking over to him, I grabbed onto his arm, attempting to pull him out of the bed. And I must say, it was a rather feeble attempt seeing as I was now lying on top of him while one of his arms snaked around my waist, holding me in place. 

I don't know why but I could feel my heart beating strongly against my rib cage. 

Huh? Must be the scare from being pulled down, nothing more. Hopefully. 

"Mingi!" I let out a small whine as I smacked his shoulder, "Let me go! Come on, we've got lunch." 

"Can't we just stay in bed?" 

"Come on love, we agreed on this two days ago, we can't just bail now." 

Groaning, he reluctantly let go of me, allowing me to roll off before he got up himself. 

"Fine. Let's go, they're probably waiting for us at the entrance." 

Holding onto his hand, we made our way to the entrance. 

The second we got there, Minho spotted us, "There you two are, we thought you were gonna spend the day in bed." 

Mingi shook his head as if he were disappointed, "Yeah, I did try to convince Y/N, but I didn't succeed." 

Smacking his arm, "Well if it were up to you, we'd probably never leave the room." 

We all shared a laugh before heading into the car out front. Minho was the one driving us to town seeing as he was the only one who had an IDP.  

Pulling out of the manor grounds, we were all too busy talking, and failed to notice a black SUV following us. 

We were currently sitting in a nice little Italian restaurant, looking at the menu. 

"Babe, I'm gonna head to the toilet, just help me order what I normally have, yeah?" 

Mingi kissed the side of my head before heading to the toilet. 

"So, when are you and Mingi gonna get married?" Laura asked, after we place our order. 

This question completely caught me off guard, causing me to inhale the water I was sipping on. 

Coughing, I grabbed a napkin, "What? We're not – We haven't -" 

I was trying to find the right words as the couple in front of me were chuckling. 

"Oh, relax. I'm kidding. Sorta. But I do think he'd propose quite early on. He literally looks at you as if you're his whole world." 

Minho nodded in agreement, "Yeah, I've never actually seen him looking at anyone like he does you." 

Um. What? 

I just sat there, not quite sure what to say. 

"Speaking of, where is he?" Minho looked around for his tall cousin, "Has he fallen down the toilet or something?" 

I clicked open my phone, "Let me just text him real quick." 

With a frown on my face, I looked to Minho, "He's not answering. He normally answers quite quickly." 

Minho stood up from his chair, "I'm gonna go check, do you wanna come with me?" 

Just as I was about to respond, my eyes landed on two figures against the wall leading to the toilet. Squinting slightly, I realised who they were. Mingi and Elle. They were kissing. 

"Y/N?" 

Minho waved his hand in front of my face, "Are you okay? What are you looking at?" 

Laura, who was sat directly in front of me, followed my line of vision. Her mouth dropping open when she saw what I saw. 

"What. The. Hell." 

Minho looked at us, confused. 

"What are you two on about?" 

Laura pushed herself away from the table, walking towards the two, Minho trailing behind her. 

I just sat there, not really knowing what to do as I stared at them. 

Sadness. Anger. Confusion. Calm. 

Those were all I felt.  

Anger, because, well, he was kissing someone other than his 'girlfriend'.  

Confusion, because he was kissing her even though he said he didn't like her. Even if she did force herself onto him, why didn't he push her away? Why would he be kissing her for that long?  

Calm, because I knew whatever it was between us, was fake. 

Sadness was beyond my comprehension, because I don't know why I felt sad. 

I watched as Laura went up to them, pulling them apart. Minho, after realising what happened, glared at Mingi furiously. I could see them arguing and Mingi glancing at me every few seconds, while Elle just stood there staring at me with a victorious smirk. 

I just went blank. Not really caring what was happening anymore. I don't know how long they were arguing, but someone placing a hand on my shoulder brought me back. 

Looking up, I saw Laura, "You okay?" 

I simply shrugged, "Why don't you guys head back to the manor. I'll stay in a hotel for the night. Don't really want to see his face." 

I could see Minho and Mingi outside the window, Mingi staring at me, worried. 

"Y/N, I could just get you a different room." 

Shaking my head, I gave her a sad smile, "No, I just, I want to be alone. So just head back, yeah?" 

I gave her hand a light squeeze. She looked reluctant to do so, but eventually nodded slightly before walking out to the guys. 

I sat at the table, ignoring how my phone kept vibrating every few seconds. 

"Miss, your food is here." 

I looked up to see a waiter holding a tray. 

"Oh. Um. Could I have it to-go please? Something's come up. And the bill." 

With a nod, "It's already been paid for. Please wait a few minutes while I get these ready to-go." 

By the time I got to a hotel, it was already roughly 4.30. I had bought a t-shirt and an extra set of clothes to change into for tomorrow. 

Now, I was lying in bed, comfortable, while watching Nickelodeon, before I decided to text someone.

The phone rang for a couple of seconds before Hongjoong picked up, "Hey - " 

"Elle and Mingi kissed." 

There was silence on the other end, followed by, "What?" 

"Elle and Mingi kissed." 

I said it slowly this time. 

"Yeah, I heard that the first time. Now, what do you mean by kissed?" 

I rolled my eyes, "What else can I mean? They kissed. Their lips were connected. They had their lips on each other. Do you need me to give you a description of kissing?" 

I could practically hear him cringe from the other side of the line, "I'm good, thank you. So, how did it happen?" 

"We were out with Minho and Laura at an Italian restaurant. He went to the toilet. About 10 minutes later I text him, asking where he was. He didn't reply, so Minho offered to look for him. And just as I looked up, I saw him and Elle kissing by the wall leading to the toilets." 

Hongjoong was silent on the other end. 

"Are you still there?" 

"Yeah, no, sorry. Are you okay?" 

I was slightly confused by the question. 

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I be? It wasn't like we were actually dating. It just took a second to process, that's all." 

I could hear him sigh on the other end, "Y/N..." 

"What?" 

"Tell me the truth. I know you better than anyone else. Well, apart for Mingi, but he's oblivious on this matter." 

Furrowing my brows slightly, "Joong, what the hell are you talking about?" 

"You still have feelings for him." 

"What? No, I - " 

"Love, you still like him." His voice was gentle on the other end, "I know you keep saying you don't like him anymore, but you do. You always have. You just pushed it away enough to think that you no longer did." 

I just stayed there, silent. 

"Y/N." 

I let out a shaky breath, "So what? What am I supposed to do?" 

"Tell him you like him." 

"I can't. Not after that. He doesn't like me. Plus, he thinks that we like each other." 

Hongjoong let out a sound of surprise, "What? Why would he think that?" 

"You found out about my crush on Mingi after one week of knowing me. Then when you told me you knew, we spent a lot of time together. We clicked quicker than I did with Mingi. And then we became best friends. Mingi doesn't know that you helped me through my feelings when he was dating those girls, he doesn't know that. So, he just thought we spent all that time together because we liked each other." 

I could hear him groan from the other side, "He's an idiot. And he can't make me think otherwise. I'm also going to kill him when you guys come back because of this stunt he's pulled. Have you talked to him yet?" 

"Not yet, I'm at a hotel in town right now. Don't really want to face him yet. I was planning on going back tomorrow, but after what you just said, I think I'm gonna stay another night." 

"Oh, no you don't. Talk to him tomorrow. It might not be what it seemed." 

"I know that! It just hurts. You know I like to be left alone after things like this happen." 

"I know, but promise me you'll talk to him tomorrow, okay?" 

Sitting up, I made my way towards the table where the food sat, "Okay, I'm gonna hang up now, yeah? I want to eat and then go to sleep. It's been a long day." 

"Okay, I'll talk to you later." 

Humming, I hung up. 

I was lying in bed with the TV playing silently. And no matter how hard I tried; I couldn't sleep. 

Turning to my side, I closed my eyes, trying to clear my thoughts. 

This was a mistake. I shouldn't have agreed to this. Maybe if I hadn't agreed I wouldn't have fallen for him again. Though deep down, I knew I would still like him. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get past it. He was always by my side.  

We would always have movie nights together, which would always end up with us sleeping on the couch, cuddling. We would always go to the diner close to campus late on Friday nights, talking about everything we could think of. We would always go on late night drives around the city when we couldn't sleep, which would always bring us to a 24-hour ice cream parlour down town. 

We did so much together. And sometimes, I would think that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way, but I always shook the thought out, because he always asked for my opinion on dates he was planning. I don't think anyone would do that to the person they liked. 

With my head still running, I gradually fell asleep. Though I knew it was going to be a restless night. 

next

Taglist: @jhmylove @hongjoongsmainbitch @rielleluvs @marievllr-abg @cookiechristie

[iwadori]

Why you break up with the haikyu boys part 2 (Osamu, Iwaizumi, Daichi, Ushijima.)

Part 1 (Atsumu, Oikawa, Kageyama, Kenma, Akaashi, Sugawara)

Genre: angst

masterlist

Osamu: “For fuck sake Y/N, don’t deny it I know that you...”

You and Osamu were basically arranged to be together, you were best friends from when you were little and your parents thought you were a match made in heaven.

Did you love Osamu? Of course, you pretty much worshipped the ground he walked on.

But there was always a strange look he gave you whenever he mentioned his brother. You never really focused on it, but that was something you took note of.

When you came back home, after a long day of work. You see Osamu sitting in the kitchen alone, with some paper in front of him and a drink in his hand.

“‘Samu Babe!” You exclaim sauntering over to him “How are yo-“

“Don’t.” He said simply, taking a sipping some of his drink (to which you could only assume was some form of hard liquor.)

“Why ‘Samu, what’s wro-“

“You bought tickets to his game.”

“Who’s game?”

“Don’t play dumb with me Y/N, you bought tickets to my idiot of a brothers game in an attempt to slut around under my nose..”

“Samu, that’s not what it was I-“

“I don’t want to hear it Y/N!” He yelled slamming his drink down making you flinch.

“Gosh Samu whats wrong with you. I know that I had a teeny crush on Atsumu when we were kids but it was just a childhood crush. An innocent childhood crush.”

“For fuck sake Y/N, don’t deny it I know yo-“

“You know what? That I’ve spent majority of my life, trying to ease your own insecurities and jealousy of your own goddamn brother. How childish can you be Osamu ?”

Osamu eyes opened a bit in realisation, and his lips slightly parted. “But Y/N, you-“

“I what? Brought us tickets to your TWIN brothers final volleyball game, because I wanted him to see the support from his family and friends.”

“I’m sorry Y/N I really a-“

“Don’t.” you say picking up the tickets and turning around “I just thought maybe, just maybe for at least a day you could put your weird feelings towards your brother aside... but I guess you can’t.”

You left the apartment, and got your stuff another day (one where you knew Osamu was at work.)

No you did not end up dating Atsumu, you were most certainly friends and only friends. You did end up going to the game on your own, to cheer on Atsumu who most definitely appreciated it.

You thought you saw a certain Miya twins sitting in the stands at of the game, hiding his face with a baseball cap. Which made you smile a bit...

Well at least he ended up coming to the game.

Iwaizumi: “I just don’t want you Y/N, I never did”

In your second year of Seijoh Highschool, you were approached by a rough looking boy who had a ‘resting bitch face,’ and looked like they were coming to pick a fight with you.

But no, it was just “Iwaizumi Hajime.”

He was very popular throughout your school, as he was vice captain of the schools volleyball team and he was Oikawa Toorus best friend.

So when he approached you that Friday afternoon at your locker, you definitely didn’t know why.

“Y/N..” he said nervously scratching the back of his neck “umm this is for you..”

In his hands was a bar of chocolate and a scrunched up note that read

AN: DID I WRITE THAT NOTE MYSELF, yes yes I did anyways...

You were very surprised at this sudden confession as you and Iwaizumi weren’t in the same social circles and you were definitely not the type of girl that would be on his ‘radar.’

You had a quite unsettling feeling, which made you subconsciously squint your eyes at him. But they soon soften as you saw the nervousness that Iwaizumi was showcasing to you as you were contemplating on you answer.

You got out a pen, shaking the unsettling feeling you had out of your head. And ticked the box “Yes” giving it back to Iwaizumi.

He smiled widely and rushed towards you in an attempts in giving you a hug which went awkwardly wrong leaving you both laughing.

Dating Hajime, wasn’t bad nor good... it’s just what you wouldn’t expect it to be.

There wasn’t much of a change to what your usual school routine was which consisted of: going to lessons and spending break and lunch on your own reading a book.

And technically you were still doing that, but you were now just always with Hajime. Wether it was at lunch or at practice (which he always insisted you go to, also hinting that he would like for you to bring him bentos to practice.) which you did end up doing.

One day, whilst doing your daily “bento delivery,” to your boyfriend, you overhear him talking to his friends; Matsukawa and Hanamaki.

“God I can’t stand her, always running behind me like a lost puppy giving me bentos that I didn’t even fucking as for” he complained, making you gasp.

“Really?” Exclaimed Hanamaki “I know you said she confessed to you one time, but I didn’t know it was that bad?”

“Yeah she’s a stalking bitch, it’s getting annoying.”

“Gosh it’s seems someones getting a taste of the ‘Oikawa Experience’” Matsun said making them all laugh.

You entered the room, furious. “What the fuck Hajime?”

“Woah woah woah, it’s seems your stalkers about iwa, we’ll leave you too it” said Hanamaki, with Matsun following behind him as they leave.

“What do they mean I’m a stalker?”

“Well aren’t you?” He responded with a smirk

“Gosh y/n you’ve been following me about for a while now, dont you think it’s time to stop”

“Bu-But you confessed, with your note and w-“

“Are you sure about that Y/N, cause I don’t really recall ...?”

“Hajime don’t lie, we were dating.. we ARE DATING.”

“Okay Y/N let me fill you in on a little secret,” he said leaning down next to your ear “I don’t want you Y/N, I never did.”

“ but why m-“

“Why you? Because nobody knows Y/N L/N and nobody cares, I can tarnish your name and nobody will give a shit.. and that’s why your an easy target” he said still smiling “ I just wanted to rub it into Shittykawas face that I had my own little “fan club”

You were stunned, frozen in shock as Iwaizumi walks past you to leave the gym, making sure to grab the bento you made him.

“Thanks again for the help, I’m definitely going to miss these bentos!”

You should have listened to your gut feeling from before.

Daichi: “you’re just not marriage material”

Daichi was “the perfect guy,” he was nice to strangers and was helpful to the community and just an all round great guy.

So it was a massive question as to why he went for you, since you were definitely not the girl for Daichi.

“I don’t care what anyone says, your the perfect girl for me” was what he always said.

Even though those statements went out the window whenever his mother got involved.

Daichi’s mum was a strict traditional woman, who believed in family values that went back thousands of years ago.

And she most certainly didn’t like you.

She wanted you to be Daichi’s doting wife, who cooked and cleaned for him. Whilst he works and was the breadwinner of the house.

Although you found no problem with the women that did do this, but this was not for you.

When it comes to meet ups with you, Daichi and his mother. He never told her to stop when it came to the rude comments she made about you, or the times she suggested Daichi go for a more “prim and proper” girl named “Misaki Ayuzawa.”

After the meetings, when his mother was gone, he always tried to reassure that she was wrong and her words didn’t matter.

But you knew they did, that daichi was actually considering some of the things she said about you wether they were true or not.

The tension in your household was strong, since you barely talked to each other anymore. But you had hope for better things...

Until one day, you get a message from Daichi’s mother saying. “It seems Daichi made the right choice, as we all know ‘Mother Knows best.’” With a video attached of Daichi proposing to the one and only “Mikasa Ayuzawa” surrounded by all their high class business friends.

When Daichi got home he yelled, “Y/N, where are you I was at this business party at this fancy restaurant and I got some nice things for you to try!”

“Business party?” You say rolling your eyes “Or Engagement party.”

The shocked look on his face made you smile, as you both knew now that he was caught.

“Fuck you daichi! Why would you do this without even tell me !” You yelled, tearing up a bit.

“Y/N, it wasn’t meant to go down like that it was just I was talking to my mu-“

“Fuck your mum! And you!”

“I’m sorry Y/N you’re just not marriage material an-“

“I don’t care what you’ve got to say, you’ve done it and it’s over with”you said leaving.

“I’ll come back to get my stuff later,” you say “oh and congratulations on the engagement Sawamura-San”

After you said that, Daichi’s heart broke.

He did end up marrying her, and he regretted every day of it. Since she was great and all, but she just wasn’t you...

But he knows now you’re long gone, definitely not going to forgive him for marrying another girl whilst being with him.

Ushijima : stop being so emotional

You and Ushijima were very much opposite In every aspect, and at first it wasn’t really a problem.

Especially since you always excused it as “opposite attracts.”

But recently all you and Ushijima do is argue, left and right always arguing.

You complained about Ushijimas lack of emotion when it came to you, you don’t think he cared about you or about anything.

Whenever you brought up something that was wrong he would reply with “Y/N this is something you need to be acting all upset about.”

And that would definitely upset you even more, you just wanted him to notice you or shout “Y/N I care about you and I love you.”

But Of course he didn’t.

One night he came back late (again) after promising to be home early to have a meal together.

“What’s taken you so long Ushi?” You asked

“I was at practice. I told you this.” He said simply, remaining as stoic as ever.

“But you said- you promised that we can have dinner together.” You said

“ oh well I’m sorry. We can have dinner now if you like.”

“I’m not hungry anymore” you mumbled past him, going to your bedroom.

“Y/N, what’s your problem” he said following after you.

“It’s nothing...”you said tears filling your eyes.

“Okay I’m going to go eat now.” He said leaving you alone in the room going to the kitchen, making you sigh.

After you calm yourself and collect your faults, you go into the kitchen where Ushijima is at the table eating.

“Ushijima, we need to talk.” You said taking a deep breath.

“Okay.”

“We should break up.”

“Okay.”

“Is that all you have to say?” You say tearing up again.

“Yes, I’ve been thinking that for a while now.” He said bluntly “since Y/N, you’re just too emotional.”

“Oh I see.” You say now full on crying.

Ushijima looks up to see you all teared-eye, and he is kind of suprised because ‘why were you upset.’ He got up and tried to console you, but you flinched away and said “Don’t, just don’t Ushijima.”

“I’m sorry Y/N...”

“Why are you sorry? Do you even know what you’re apologising for?”

“No.”

“Well then, just seems to prove my point further...” you go to leave before saying “thanks for the wonderful time... I guess we just weren’t meant to be.”

AN: can someone appreciate what I did with Iwaizumis....no? Okay 😃 I feel this one way way more angsty then part one but oh well. What did you think.

General taglist[bold can’t be tagged]: @sakuxxi @iimoonii @hamdehlesmis @Shoyosupremacy @meadowsinjapan @iambashfulperson @kayleighbeccaa @dearkousei @bakugouswh0r3

Get on the taglist here

[sunflowervolvimp3]

42 Hours (II)

Content: part 2 to an enemies to lovers au in which Harry and Y/N are forced into a cross country road trip to make it to their best friends’ wedding on time!! includes a karaoke bar in Cleveland, Ohio, sharing of motel rooms (oh my god there was only one bed 👁️👁️), and a lesbian wedding in the Catskills

Warnings: language, alcohol, NSFW content, making fun of Nebraska and The Notebook

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Word Count: 32k

A/N: okay can I just say that I am so glad this is finally done. I have been working on this fic for over a month!!! the entire thing is over 51k in length!!!!!! my word doc is almost 100 pages!!!! this was meant to be a fun story about enemies to lovers stuck on a road trip!!!!! what happened!!!! but thank you guys so much for all the love and support and interest in this story <3 I was really nervous about splitting it up (which looking back was a good choice because again. it’s so long.) but you all showed so much love for the story and the characters!!!! I’d like to give a special shout out to miss andrea @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy​ and miss alex @darthstyles​ for proof reading, and miss andrea again for this pretty header image!! if you’re looking for any good reads after this, I highly recommend checking out their masterlists!! and as always, if you like this fic, please like it AND reblog it!! and shoot me a message about it!! feedback is always appreciated, not just by me, but by ALL content creators, and is the main motivation for us to create more for you all to enjoy!!

{masterlist}

{masterlist}

here is everyone’s wedding looks!! and HERE is a lil moodboard of Jo and Laure’s wedding so you can sense the vibes!!

also!! if you want to set the mood for a road trip with Harry, here is a link to the playlist that is mentioned and referenced in this fic!!

It’s almost instantaneous, Y/N notices, how quickly and easily she and Harry fall into a rhythm of friendship. From the moment she wakes up the next morning to a blue sky, the storm long passed, and Harry holding out a cup of black coffee for her, the stress and anxiety of the previous day is gone. There’s no watching herself around Harry, biting her tongue to stop herself from snapping over every small motion he makes as he fidgets in the driver’s seat.  There’s no irritation caused by the way he taps his fingers on the steering wheel, or how he asks any question that crosses his mind, speaking out his random chain of thoughts just as often.  

The thing that Y/N’s come to realize is that Harry is so much more interesting than she’d ever thought. He’s certainly more interesting than the endless fields of corn that whip by her window as he drives down the interstate.  His jokes are dumb, but he says them with such a big grin on his face that she can’t help but laugh.  His comments are strange, but Y/N finds herself enjoying the weird words that slip from his mouth without being caught by a filter.

“If we were in a Children of The Corn situation,” Harry begins, raising his voice to be heard over the sounds of Simon and Garfunkel. “Do you think you’d be able to outsmart the cult?  Or would you get sacrificed to He Who Walks Behind the Rows?”

Y/N half chokes on the bottle of water she’d just raised to her lips, and coughs the liquid from her lungs as she turns to give Harry an incredulous look. “Excuse me?”

“We’re in Nebraska. That’s where it takes place, right?” Harry asks, glancing at Y/N from behind his sunglasses. “There’s, like, a weird child cult, and they kill all the adults in town for the corn harvest, or something, and then this couple on a road trip discovers them, and tries to stop them.  Do you think you’d be able to?”

“Do I think I’d be able to stop a child cult?  Or would I get sacrificed to their weird corn god?  That’s what you’re asking me?” Although she can’t help but snort at the ridiculousness of the question, her mind is already appraising the situation Harry’s proposed. “I think I’d be able to stop them.  They’re just kids, right?  You just can’t be afraid to—you know—” Y/N drags her thumb across her throat, and Harry quirks up an eyebrow at her casual response.

“You’d kill a bunch of kids?”

“If the kids were evil and wanted to kill me?  Absolutely.” Y/N leans her head back on the head rest, still keeping her eyes locked on Harry. “Wouldn’t you?”

Harry lifts one shoulder in response. “I don’t know.  I’d try to reason with them, I think.”

Y/N extends a finger gun at him, clicking her tongue in sync with the motion. “And that’s why they’d sacrifice you and not me.”

Harry laughs, shaking his head slowly as he turns his attention back to the road. “Lovely. Wouldn’t you try to save me?”

Y/N hums, pretending to think the question over. “That depends on how annoying you’ve been that day.”

“You’re such a sweetheart, Y/N, you really are.” Harry laughs more, but stops abruptly as he spots a sign to the right of the road. “Oh!  There’s a souvenir shop at the next exit!”

A groan falls from Y/N’s mouth as her head flops back, already sensing defeat. “No, Harry, you don’t need another keychain—”

“You don’t know that! Maybe I could get a corn stalk keychain!”

…

“You know, I could drive for a bit.  If you’d like.”

Harry looks up at Y/N with an apprehensive gaze, his nimble fingers halfway through attaching a new silver key chain in the shape of Nebraska to his key ring. “What?”

“You’ve been driving for three days straight.” Y/N leans over the passenger side of the car, resting her arms on the sun-warmed roof. “I could drive.  I know how to; I just don’t do it in L.A. because the traffic is annoying. But the interstate is practically empty, so…”

“Uh, no offense, Y/N, but…” Harry opens the drivers door, a small smile curving the corner of his lip. “No one drives Stevie but me.  And besides, she’s a stick.  Have you ever driven one?”

“Well, no.” Y/N admits, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. “But you could show me.”

Harry inhales deeply, glancing around the souvenir shop parking lot.  Y/N can tell he’s surveying the area, searching for a reason to say no, but as far as she can tell, there isn’t one.  There are no other cars around, and the area is mostly flat, giving her a good space to practice driving in.  With a defeated look on his face, Harry exhales sharply and gives a quick nod as he takes a step back from the driver’s side. “Fine.  Get in.”

Y/N and Harry swap sides in the car, although Y/N is much more enthusiastic about it than Harry is. From the moment she climbs in and begins adjusting his seat, a pained look comes over Harry’s face, making her roll her eyes.

“Oh, come on.  You’re a giant, Harry, I have to adjust things so I can reach the pedals.” Y/N scoffs, reaching up to adjust the rear view mirror. “You can put them all back later.”

“Yeah.” Harry sucks in another breath before pushing his sunglasses up into his chestnut curls. “Okay, so…there’s three pedals on the floor.  The right one is gas, the middle is the brake, and the left is the clutch. And then here—” Harry takes Y/N’s right hand and places it over the gear shift. “This is how you shift.  There’s six gears, right?  And their use depends on the speed you’re going, so you’re going to start with one—” His hand squeezes hers as he shifts the gear shift over and up to the left with ease. “Which is here.  Here’s two—” He shifts the gear shift down to the left, and continues to move it as he speaks. “Three.  Four.  Five. And reverse.  Got it?”

“I think so.” Y/N nods, her hand flexing beneath Harry’s large palm.  His rings feel cool against her warm skin, and she has to admit, it’s not the worst feeling in the world. “Up left, down left, up middle, down middle, up right, down right.  Right?”

“Right.” Harry lifts his hand off hers to point towards her feet, which are sitting on the carpet cover in front of the pedals. “You want to start with your foot pressed firmly on the clutch, the one—yeah.  There, to the left.  Keep it pressed there.  Is it pressed there?”

“Since you first told me to press it, yeah.” Y/N furrows her brow in concentration, which is caused both from learning how to drive manually, and the effort it takes to stop herself from laughing at the nervousness in Harry’s voice. “Now what?”

“Take off the parking brake.” Harry pulls the lever down himself, making sure Y/N is focused on her other movements. “And the car is in neutral, so you can turn the key in the ignition.” He holds out his keys towards her.

Y/N takes the cool metal from his hands, quickly finding the right key for the Impala and slipping it in. The car roars to life, a sound which is now familiar to her ears. “Okay.  There.”

“Good.” Harry pauses for a moment before reaching across Y/N’s body and buckling her seatbelt, which she had forgotten in the excitement to drive. “Safety first.” He sits back in the passenger seat, fixing his seatbelt across his own body. “I have a feeling we’ll be needing these.”

“Oh, shut up.” Y/N sticks her tongue out at him, her eyebrows and nose wrinkling as she makes a face. “What do I do now?”

“Now…” Harry fidgets with his seatbelt again as he moves forward in the passenger seat, one hand bracing against the dash as he directs her. “Press the clutch and the brake at the same time, like that.  Now move the gear shift into first gear.”

Y/N does as he says, pushing the gear shift over and up to the left.  It takes much more pressure for her to move it without Harry’s help, she notes, but doesn’t let the effort show on her face. “Then?”

“Take your foot off the brake.” Harry instructs, caution laced through his voice. “And slowly—slowly! —release the clutch as you press down gently on the gas.”

“Okay…” Lifting her left foot first, Y/N does her best to match the motion with her right foot, pressing down at the same pace as she lifts the other.  Her movement, however, isn’t as smooth as she wants it to be, and the car lunges forward in a choppy motion.

“Careful!” Harry says loudly, twisting his body to face Y/N as he continues bracing himself.  His entire body is tense, his shoulders practically up by his ears as he appraises Y/N. “You have to do it at the same time!”

“Alright, alright—” Y/N tries again, focusing on matching her feet to each other.  This time, the movement is smoother, and the car begins to drive forward slowly, moving faster as Y/N presses down more. “Is that—am I doing it?” Y/N asks nervously, navigating herself slowly through the parking lot. “Is that it?”

“That’s it.  You’re doing good, yeah.” Harry nods slowly, but Y/N can see the strain in his jaw from the corner of her eye. “Now let’s try…let’s try shifting gears, so you can speed up.”

“Try not to sound so terrified.” Y/N mutters, turning the wheel to guide the car around a lamp post.

Harry ignores her comment. “You’re going to do the same motion, but this time release the gas while pressing down on the clutch.  Then move the gear shifter to two, like before, and—”

Before Harry can finish speaking, Y/N attempts to change into second gear.  The car lurches again as she releases the gas and presses on the clutch, and the jagged motion only gets worse after she shifts into second.

“Slowly, Y/N—” Agitation is clear in Harry’s voice, and his knuckles turn white as he grips the dash. “Slower!”

Another lunge of the car shifts Y/N to the side, and her foot slips off the clutch completely. With a sickening sound, the car lurches to a stop, despite Y/N’s foot still pressed on the gas.  “What—?”

Harry, who’s been wincing throughout the entire ordeal, sucks in a sharp breath. “You stalled her.” He says, shaking his head with a quiet horror.

Y/N tugs on her bottom lip as she glances at him from the corner of her eye, her voice hesitant. “Is…that bad?”

“Is that—?” Harry’s green irises snap to meet hers, wide open and shocked. “Yeah, it’s bad. That’s enough practice for today, I think.  I’m driving again.”

Y/N tries to protest. “But—”

“Nope!  Out!” Harry shakes his head firmly, unbuckling his seatbelt and exiting the car in one swift motion. “Come on!”

With a defeated sigh, Y/N unbuckles herself, climbing out of the driver’s door that Harry’s just opened for her.  “Sorry.” She mumbles, walking around to the passenger’s side and climbing back in.

Harry gives her a small smile, albeit a pained one, as he begins to move his feet over the brake and clutch, shifting the car into neutral. “It’s fine.  That was pretty good for a first practice, really. Just…maybe it’s too soon for highway driving.”

Y/N buckles her seatbelt as Harry restarts the engine, and within a few minutes, he has his signal flipped back on to head back to the highway. “You know, mostly I wanted to drive so that I could pick the music.” She says casually, resting her chin in her hand after propping it up against the arm rest. “I’m getting a little tired of The Beatles on repeat.”

Harry laughs, raking his hand through his curls before shifting gears with ease. “Oh really?  What would you put on, if you had a choice?”

“I don’t know.” Y/N shrugs, taking a moment to think. “We could listen to a nice sonata, maybe. Oh!  Or Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake.  I haven’t listened to it in full in a while.”

A sound of surprise and indignation leaves Harry’s mouth. “Tchaikovsky—?  No!  No, you can’t listen to classical music on a road trip!  You need music that you can scream the lyrics to!”

“Is there a rulebook about what you can and can’t listen to on a road trip?” Y/N raises an eyebrow as she poses the sarcastic question. “I wasn’t aware.”

“There’s an unofficial rulebook, yes.” Harry risks a glance over at Y/N, his green eyes alight. “And one of the most important—if not the most important—rules is that any song you listen to has to be able to be sung loudly while driving down a highway. Everyone knows that.”

“My bad.” Y/N says sarcastically, toeing off her shoes to better cross her legs beneath herself. “So, in short, we’re stuck listening to your playlist, huh?”

“Now you get it.” Harry shoots her a cheeky grin, pointing with his free hand. “You can change the song, though.  If you’d like.”

“Really?” Y/N reaches down to the small catch all tray between them, where Harry’s phone sits connected to a car charger.  She picks it up carefully, raising an eyebrow in question. “May I?”

When Harry nods, Y/N clicks on the screen, which displays the controls to the Spotify playlist currently being projected through the car’s speakers.  Unsurprisingly, a Beatles song is moving across the scene, causing Y/N to press the skip button immediately.  The next song is by The Killers, called “Spaceman,” and while she likes it, it’s not really something she feels like listening to in the moment. She hits skip again, passing over “Night Moves,” “Piano Man,” and “Seven Wonders,” (the last skip earning a sound of protest from Harry) before a familiar album cover pops up on the screen.

“Hold on.” Y/N says, mouth agape as the 1990s Vocoder sound fills the car. “You listen to Cher?”

“Are you kidding?” Harry’s surprised expression matches hers. “Of course!  She’s a treasure.” He taps his fingers to the beat of “Believe” while his head bops to the same pattern. “I love this song.  It’s a good one.”

Making a sound of agreement, Y/N lets her gaze drift to the window, watching the agriculture fields that whiz by. “Yeah.” She murmurs, losing herself in the beat. “‘No matter how hard I try…you keep pushing me aside’…”

“‘And I can’t break through’…” Harry’s voice joins with hers, louder and surer of himself than hers had been. “‘There’s no talking to you’…”

Y/N’s head turns from the window, locking eyes with Harry for the split second he looks away from the road ahead of them. “‘It’s so sad that you’re leaving…it takes time to believe it’…”

“‘But after all is said and done’…” The grin playing on Harry’s pink lips grows, popping out his dimples as he continues to sing. “‘You’re gonna be the lonely one’…”

With a grin pasted across her own face, so big that her cheeks ache, Y/N joins Harry for the chorus, yelling the lyrics more than singing them. “‘Do you believe in life after love?  I can feel something inside me say…I really don’t think you’re strong enough’!” Harry’s hand drifts down to the volume dial, turning the music up until the bass thumps through the entire car.  Y/N can feel it in her chest like a second heart beat.

“‘Do you believe in life after love?’” Encouraged by each other, Harry and Y/N scream the lyrics even louder on the repeat, straining their necks as much as their vocal cords. “‘I can feel something inside me say…I really don’t think you’re strong enough’!”

When Harry’s hand moves again, Y/N thinks that he’s reaching for the dial again, perhaps to turn it down, but then his hand makes a questioning motion, and Y/N realizes that Harry, ever the one for dramatics, is acting out the lines.

“‘What was I supposed to do?  Sit around and wait for you?’” Harry points at Y/N then, an exaggerated look on his face as his whole body moves to the beat. “‘Well I can’t do that!  And there’s no turning back’…”

Not wanting to be one upped, Y/N pushes up the sleeve of her sweater, exposing her wrist enough that she can tap on it. “‘I need time to move on’…” A fit of giggles interrupt the next line as she and Harry both raise their arms to flex their muscles. “‘I need a love to feel strong’…” Y/N taps on her temple as she sways her body to the beat the best she can in the car. “‘Because I’ve got time to think it through’…” When she turns to point at Harry, she finds him already pointing at her, once again in sync with her thoughts. “‘And maybe I’m too good for you, oh’!”

They repeat the chorus in the same way as before, screaming the lyrics as loud as they can, pulling dramatic facial expressions and dance moves to match.  Halfway through the repeat, Harry attempts to mimic the classic Cher move of pushing hair over the shoulder, and the ridiculous sight is enough to send Y/N into another fit of laughter.  She almost misses the entrance for the bridge, but recovers just in time to yell the lyrics in sync with Harry.

Forming fists and dragging her arms towards her dramatically, and Harry doing the same with his free hand, the two of them screw their faces up as they sing passionately. “‘Well I know that I’ll get through this…because I know that I am strong’…” The flexing of arms returns for a moment before being replaced by impassioned pleading hand gestures. “‘I don’t need you anymore…I don’t need you anymore…no, I don’t need you anymore…no, I don’t need you anymore’…”

Although they’d been energetic in the previous choruses, Harry and Y/N give their all for the final chorus, bouncing and yelling and gesturing as much as they can as they drive down the interstate at sixty-five miles per hour.  They quiet for a moment as the beat falls out, singing the lyrics at a slightly lower volume, but when the beat returns, they scream the lyrics one final time in unison before the music fades out.

The song changes to “Baby Driver,” and Harry reaches to lower the volume as he and Y/N both struggle to catch their breath.  They laugh between pants, hands on chests as they rapidly rise and fall.  Y/N lets her head fall back against the back of the seat, shifting her legs so only one rests on the seat beneath her thigh.

“That was a good one.” She admits, pushing her now-sweaty hair out of her face. “I’ll give you that. Cher was a good choice.”

“Do you see what I meant, now?” Harry asks breathlessly, his grin still plastered to his face. “Do you still want to listen to Tchaikovsky?”

In lieu of a reply, Y/N reaches for Harry’s phone again, skipping songs until “Jessie’s Girl” begins to drift through the speakers. “Turn it up again, Harry.”

There’s a twinkle in Harry’s eyes when he does as she says.

…

“I can sleep on the floor.” Harry volunteers, tugging his hand through his stretched out curls as his eyes scan the interior of the motel room. “Make a little bed out of pillows.  Then you can have the bed.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Harry.” Y/N shakes her head adamantly, setting her bag on the small table in front of the room’s mirror. “You can’t sleep on the floor!”

Harry purses his lips. “I’ll take the chair, then.  I can stretch out on it—”

“Please, you have limbs like Gumby.” Rolling her eyes, Y/N unzips her bag and pulls out her toiletries. “You can’t sleep comfortably in a chair.  We can deal with one bed for one night.  It’s not the end of the world.”

Four days ago, Y/N might have considered having to share a bed with Harry the end of the world.  If someone had told her about the lack of available motel rooms on the road, Y/N might have never left L.A.  And that first night in Utah, she remembers, she would have rather smother Harry in his sleep than share a bed with him.  Now, however, they’re in Iowa City, and for all her talk of how much she despised Harry before, she’s found herself quite fond of him in a short period of time.

There’s a list of reasons why that’s happened, she thinks, as she pulls out her charger to plug into the wall.  Their forced close proximity in the car and motel rooms probably has something to do with it, as well as Harry being her only company for the last four days.  And maybe, just maybe, a small part of it is due to the way Harry looks in the dim motel room light as he flops back on the bed, his red and black striped t-shirt riding up just the slightest bit to expose the fern tattoos lining the bottom of his stomach.  The way his jade irises manage to sparkle in the light of the lamp, or how his chipped nail polish still manages to look elegant as his fingers dance along his chest and twist his rings over his knuckles.  The way his lips, despite his constant habit of biting them, look so soft and so pink, and how Y/N thinks she could just—

Y/N clears her throat, stopping her thoughts in their tracks.  It’s really been too long since she’s been around another human being, she thinks, keeping her back to Harry as she roots through her suitcase for her pajamas. Four days is too long for her to be with the same person, with hardly any alone time, and she’s wondering if she’ll be able to have alone time any time soon when her fingers brush over the familiar smooth silicone surface of her vibrator.

Y/N pauses, pulling her fingers back as if she’s been burned.  Right.  She’d tossed that in there just before leaving L.A., just in case she needed some stress relief.  Glancing back over her shoulder subtly, Y/N sees that Harry has his phone out now, his nimble fingers tapping along the screen as he lays on the bed.  Maybe some stress relief is exactly what she needs.

Grabbing the first articles of clothing she can get her hands on, Y/N carefully wraps her vibrator within the fabric, trying to fold it so that it doesn’t look like its hiding a small purple sex toy.  Once that’s done to the best of her ability, she grabs her toiletry bag, tucking it under her arm as she quickly makes her way to the bathroom.

“I’m going to shower.” She mutters, closing the door behind her without waiting for Harry’s response.

Although the ritual of stripping from her clothes, starting the shower and adjusting the temperature settings, and relaxing her muscles underneath the (albeit low pressure) stream of water is familiar, it takes Y/N a few minutes to work up the courage to run her hands down the length of her body.  She takes her time as her fingers dance over the planes of her breasts, down her stomach, fluttering over her hips before making their way to the crevice where her thighs flow into her core.  Taking a deep breath, Y/N begins with just her fingers, running them through her wet folds slowly and carefully.

She allows herself the time to warm herself up, waiting until she can dip her index finger inside her slick entrance and circle its way around her clit before grabbing her vibrator from the shower ledge.  She flicks it on to its lowest setting, making sure the electronic buzz is hidden beneath the sound of the shower before gently circling the tip around her clit.

The relief, Y/N finds, is instantaneous.  A breathless sigh slips past her lips as she rubs the toy over her folds, delighting in the fluttering sensation it leaves behind.  Without breaking contact, Y/N turns the toy up a level, biting her lip to keep from moaning as she presses it back to her clit.

Despite the tension building up in her body as Y/N works herself to an orgasm, this is the most relaxed she’s felt in days.  The tension, she finds, is so much sweeter than the anxiety and stress she’s been experiencing throughout the road trip.  Although her shoulders tense, it’s different than the knots worked into her muscles from hours in the car.  Although her leg feels as though it may cramp from its position perched on the bath tub ledge, the burn is more welcome than the ache of being stuck in one seated position.

If someone were to ask her what crossed her mind when Y/N brought herself over the edge, what thoughts drifted into her head as she gripped the wall of the shower with one hand as her core convulsed in the most delightfully sinful way, Y/N would tell them that it was nothing specific.  Strong hands, she’d say, smoothly and knowledgeably caressing her body.  A low voice whispering dirty nothings in her ear. A deep breath flowing down her neck as cherry lips and white teeth nipped and kissed down her skin and across her collar bones.  Nothing specific.  And Y/N would believe it when she’d say it.

But if anyone were to be listening at the exact moment that she thrust the vibrator inside her, panting and whimpering as her index and middle finger worked over her clit and brought her to climax, they’d hear the breathless whisper of a name that Y/N herself didn’t even know she was saying.

The nice thing about getting off in the shower, Y/N thinks, once she’s regained enough function in her head to do so, is that cleanup is a breeze.  Within fifteen more minutes, Y/N’s washed her body, shampooed and conditioned her hair, and is climbing out of the shower with the motel towel wrapped tightly around her body.  Within another few minutes, she’s towel dried to the best of her ability, and finally realizing that the pajamas she’d grabbed in her quick bid for the washroom happened to be the pink silk set that she’d tucked at the bottom of her suitcase four days ago.

Cheeks burning, Y/N weighs her options.  She could wrap the towel around herself, she thinks, and instruct Harry to look away as she snuck back to her suitcase and grabbed the sports bra and boxers she’d been sleeping in for the past few nights.  Or…she runs her fingers over the lace trim of the set.  These pajamas were quite comfortable, and the silk would feel so nice on her body after multiple nights of scratching motel sheets.  And, if she’s being honest with herself, her other pajamas are quite dirty from a new nights of use.  Now that her body feels completely relaxed and clean, she’d like to put on something to match.

When she steps out of the bathroom, Y/N does her best to seem casual and calm, still running her towel through her set hair, her clothes and toiletry bag (where she’s hidden her vibrator) tucked under one arm. “The shower’s free.” She says to Harry, barely glancing at him as she returns her items to her bag. “Although the water pressure is pretty shit.”

A low chuckle echoes from Harry’s mouth. “I expect nothing less.” He says, and Y/N thinks she may be in the clear when the laughter stops abruptly.

Biting back a sigh, Y/N straightens her back, knowing that she can’t avoid the conversation forever. “What?” She asks, tossing her towel on the motel room chair.

Harry is sitting up on the bed, his phone still held loosely in his right hand as his left props his body into an upright position.  As his eyes scan over Y/N’s body, his tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his lips without Harry being aware he’s doing it. “What—” His voice cracks, and a flush creeps up Harry’s pale neck as he clears his throat. “What are you wearing?”

Y/N begins to comb her fingers through her hair, sectioning it off before she begins to braid. “Pajamas.”

A scoff leaves Harry’s mouth. “No, no, those aren’t pajamas.  That’s…lingerie.”

“Yeah, well…I brought them as pajamas.” Y/N mumbles, twisting her hair into the desired pattern before tying it off with the ponytail on her wrist. “Look, I—my other ones are dirty, and I didn’t want to put a sweaty sports bra back on right after showering.  But…if it makes you uncomfortable, then I can—”

“I’m not uncomfortable.” Harry cuts over her, giving a quick shake of his head. “I just—we’re sharing the bed tonight, so I wasn’t sure—as long as you’re comfortable—”

“I am.” Y/N says quickly, cheeks beginning to burn as the conversation continues. “I’m comfortable.”

“Alright then.” If Harry’s cheeks are any indication, then he’s feeling the same thing Y/N is. “I’m…going to shower, then.”

And that’s how, two hours later, after watching a rerun of When Harry Met Sally, Y/N ends up in bed next to Harry Styles in lingerie that she’d bought to impress her ex-boyfriend.

Harry, to his credit, is doing his best to draw a line between them.  His lanky body is practically hanging off the edge of the bed with how far he’s pulled himself from her, his defined back turned towards Y/N. Her own posture mimics his, back turned from Harry, clinging to the edge of the bed in an attempt to respect his personal space.  The problem, Y/N thinks, exhaling hard as she shifts under the covers, is that she doesn’t like sleeping on her side like this, and she especially doesn’t like tensing up to make sure her limbs stay in their designated zone.  It feels awkward and uncomfortable, and after laying in bed for over an hour, she finally huffs before turning onto her back, her hands settling down over the sheets.

“Harry.” She whispers, twisting her head to the side as she struggles to make out the shape of his body in the dark. “Are you awake?”

The bed creaks as Harry’s body shifts towards her, twisting on his hip to be able to meet Y/N’s eyes. “Yeah.  Can’t sleep.”

“Me either.” Y/N rolls over again, propping herself up on her side to face him as he matches the motion. They’re closer now, their faces about six inches away as they rest their heads on their pillows.  Y/N can smell the mint of Harry’s toothpaste on his breath. “Why can’t you sleep?”

Harry shrugs one shoulder as best he can while horizontal. “Dunno.” He mumbles, voice low in the quiet darkness. “Don’t think I’m used to sharing a bed with someone and not…being close to them.”

“Yeah.” Y/N matches the tone of her voice to his, as if speaking quietly and gently will preserve whatever it is hanging between them. “Feels weird.”

Moving his hands from his chest to tuck them under his pillow, Harry worries his bottom lip between his teeth, a nervous look apparent in his eyes even in the darkness. “Would it be okay if I moved closer?” He asks, caution written into every word. “It’s just—staying on the edge isn’t very comfortable.”

Four days ago, Y/N would have shoved him off the bed.  Now, however, she finds herself nodding, pulling her top leg into a bent position, her bare knee brushing over Harry’s beneath the sheets. “That’s fine.”

Y/N watches the way Harry’s body visibly relaxes, the tension she didn’t even know he had leaving his body.  Trying his best to move without disturbing her, Harry turns over to lay on his toned stomach, and the sheets pull down around his body enough that Y/N can see how his Rolling Stones t-shirt has ridden up his back.  Without thinking, Y/N pulls one hand from beneath her pillow and reaches for the sheets, pulling them back around Harry to his mid back.

“Thanks.” His voice is raspy, half muffled by the pillow as he tucks his hands beneath his head, eyes still locked with hers with an intensity that, during daylight hours, would have made her cheeks burn.

But in the safety of the darkness, Y/N simply returns her hand to its previous position, allowing the lack of light to masquerade the concern written onto her face. “You’re welcome.”

…

“I’m not saying The Notebook is a bad movie, I’m just saying that it doesn’t make sense!”

Harry gives Y/N an incredulous look as he flips on his turn signal, shifting gears in the car so he can exit the highway and head towards a gas station. “What do you mean, it doesn’t make sense?” He demands, turning the car over the curve of the road. “They’re in love!  Noah reads to Ally to help her remember that!  What about that doesn’t make sense?”

“Well, the dialogue for one.” Y/N shrugs, tapping her fingers to the beat of “Heroes” that’s drifting through the speakers.

Harry scoffs as he pulls into an empty gas station, slowing the car to a gentle stop in front of a pump. “Give me one example of the dialogue not making sense!”

“‘If you’re a bird, I’m a bird’?” Y/N raises an eyebrow as she quotes the movie. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“What do you mean, what does it mean?” Harry demands, shifting the car into neutral and pulling the emergency brake before turning off the ignition. “It’s romantic!  It’s talking about—about reincarnation, and past lives—”

“And what about how Noah and Ally first met, huh?  She was on a date with someone else!  She wasn’t interested in him!” As she rants, Y/N’s volume grows, almost drowning out David Bowie completely. “And then he climbed up a Ferris wheel, demanded that she go out with him, and said that if she didn’t, he was going to kill himself!”

Harry points an accusatory finger at her, his expression fierce. “Don’t!  It was romantic—”

Y/N pushes his finger away, holding her stance adamantly. “It was creepy!  And don’t even get me started on the arguments, and the lying, and—and she was engaged to someone else!  Noah was a homewrecker!”

Harry takes a deep breath, squeezing his keys in his hand as his eyes close for a moment. “I’m going to fill Stevie with petrol.” He says, his tone careful and controlled. “And when I get back, I am going to give you a very long lecture on why you’re wrong.”

Y/N rolls her eyes as she grabs Harry’s sunglasses from the cupholder next to her, slipping them onto her face as she sticks her tongue out at him. “Whatever.  Go pump the gas, Styles.”

With one last withering look, Harry climbs out of the car and slams the door behind him, turning his attention to the rusted gas pump in the middle of nowhere along the Illinois interstate.  Y/N can’t help but laugh at the irritated look on his face, and how he flips her the bird when he catches her laughing.  Small giggles still roll through her as she turns her attention to Harry’s phone, choosing a new song as David Bowie slowly begins to fade out. She’s just begun scrolling through her options when her own phone begins to vibrate from where she has it tucked underneath her leg.

Y/N sets Harry’s phone back down on his seat as she grabs her own, her eyes widening when she sees Brant’s name lighting up her screen.  She should answer, she thinks, as she hasn’t spoken to him in person since their conversation in Colorado.  That conversation seems like a lifetime ago, and Y/N’s thumb hovers over the “accept” icon, her teeth tugging her bottom lip over and over.  She should answer.  She should.  Brant will probably want to discuss work, and find out when she’s coming back so they can plan another dinner, because he always likes to schedule things at least a week in advance.  He’ll tell her about his coworkers, what the weather in L.A. has been like (as if it ever changes), and maybe, just maybe, if he has time, he’ll tell her about a new Netflix series he’s just starting to watch.  Y/N should answer.

The driver’s side door opens with a creak, and Harry bends down to poke his head inside. “Alright, I’m going to go inside the petrol station and get us some snacks, and then I’m going to explain to you exactly how wrong you are.” He says firmly, mouth pressed into a flat line of determination.  His expression falters for just a moment as he sees the conflicted look on Y/N’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Y/N says quickly, pressing “ignore” and tucking her phone back under her leg. “Just go get the snacks while I create my counterargument, alright?”

Harry rolls his eyes, reaching into the car and pulling his sunglasses off Y/N’s face.  He slips them over his own eyes, his expression back to its determined look. “Fine.  Do you want Cheezies?”

“Uh huh.  The crunchy ones!” Y/N reminds him, grabbing his phone from the seat again to continue selecting a new song.

“Right.  The crunchy ones.” Harry shoots her a finger gun as he shuts the car door. “You can eat them as I prove you wrong!”

“You wish!” Y/N yells back, the phone call all but forgotten as she watches Harry walk into the gas station.

…

“We should go out tonight.”

Y/N sets her duffel bag on the queen-sized bed situated in the center of the motel room, giving Harry a confused look as she registers his words. “Go out?” She asks, tugging on the zipper of the bag. “Go out where?”

“To a bar.” Harry flops down on the bed next to her bag, leaning back on his elbows as he speaks. “All we’ve done this entire trip is drive, and we’re getting to the Catskills tomorrow.  We can have a bit of fun tonight, can’t we?”

Y/N snorts as she rifles through her bag, pulling out her phone charger and favourite book. “It’s a road trip; driving is the point, isn’t it?  Besides, what kind of bars are in Cleveland, Ohio?”

Harry shrugs lightly. “We passed a sign for one on our way into town.  And we haven’t had dinner yet, so we should go get something to eat anyways.  And I haven’t had a pint in forever.”

“I doubt you’ll like the pints from a dive bar in Cleveland, Harry.” Y/N rolls her eyes as she plugs her charger into the wall. “I don’t think they’ll be up to your standards.”

“That’s for me to decide, isn’t it?” Harry matches her eye roll with ease before turning his expression into something more endearing. “Please?  We don’t have to stay too long if you don’t want to!”

Y/N sighs as she sits down on the bed next to him. “Harry—”

“Just one drink!” Harry pleads, pouting out his bottom lip. “Please?  To celebrate not killing each other on this trip?”

In spite of herself, a small laugh falls from Y/N’s mouth. “The trip’s not over yet, Harry.  Don’t count your eggs before they hatch.”

“Y/N…” Harry whines, turning onto his side as he looks up at her. “Come on!”

Y/N tugs her lip between her teeth as she looks down at Harry.  It’s true, she thinks, that all they’ve done for the last five days is drive and sleep in motels.  Maybe they could use a break before tomorrow’s final day.  And they’ve been getting along so well today that Y/N would hate to put a damper on their moods now…

“Fine.” She relents, ignoring how there’s a turning feeling in her stomach when she sees Harry’s green eyes light up. “But just one drink!”

…

“I’ll take another Old Fashioned, please!” Y/N says to the waitress, raising her voice to be heard over the man singing a bad cover of “Take on Me” on the small bar stage. “And—Harry, do you want another?”

Harry bites back a laugh, barely managing to cover it with a cough as the waitress turns to him. “Uh, yes, please.” He smiles charmingly, flashing his eyes to Y/N between his words. “I’ll have another pint.”

With a quick nod, the waitress begins to work her way from their table to the bar, pushing through the crowds of people scattered around the bar.  

Y/N leans over to Harry as she twirls her straw through the remnants of ice in her empty glass. “You picked a good bar!” She says loudly, gesturing to the people around them. “Who knew this would be the center of Cleveland’s drinking scene?”

“I did!  I have good taste!” Harry replies with a laugh, lifting his pint glass to his lips to drain the remnants. “And here I was, thinking that you’d be whining to go home after the first drink!”

There’s something about the way Harry says “home” that turns Y/N’s stomach.  Or maybe it’s the Old Fashioneds, she thinks, as she eyes the three empty glasses sitting in front of her. “Oh.  Yeah.  Maybe we should go…?”

Harry groans, waving off her suggestion without a second thought. “No!  We’re having fun!  When was the last time you went out?”

“Uh…” The alcohol makes it hard for Y/N to think back in her memory, but she does her best to focus for a few moments to search for the answer. “I think…a few months ago?  Jo came to visit, and we went out for drinks…”

“That’s just sad.” Harry shakes his head, feigning disappointment.  Or maybe not feigning it, Y/N thinks, because a deep sigh leaves his lips right after. “You live in L.A., a place with so much culture and so many opportunities, and you don’t take them!”

“I take opportunities just fine!” Y/N defends herself, a pout working its way onto her lips of its own volition. “I’m just busy—”

“You’re always going to be busy!” Harry argues as the waitress approaches them with their drinks. “You—thank you—” He says to her as she hands him his pint and Y/N her Old Fashioned. “You have to take time for yourself, to enjoy things!  Or else life is just going to pass you by, and soon you’ll be old and grey in your apartment, with no cool stories to tell!”

Y/N takes the straw from her previous drink and slips it in her new one. “I have stories!” She argues hotly, a flush coming over her face from both the alcohol and the argument. “I have plenty of stories!”

Harry takes a gulp from his pint, wiping away the drop of beer that drips from the corner of his mouth. “Oh yeah?  Tell me one.”

“Like—” Y/N takes a long sip of her drink. “Like now!  The story of how I had to go on a road trip with a guy I hated to make it to my best friend’s wedding on time!”

“I’m not really a fan of that title, honestly.” Harry purses his lips, his brow furrowing as he sets his pint back down on the table. “How about we call it the story of how you had to go on a road trip with a guy you hated to make it to your best friend’s wedding on time, and along the way, you and the guy actually realized that you got along pretty well, and became friends?”

A small smile plays on Y/N’s lips, and she raises her glass towards Harry. “Sounds like a plan.” She says softly, barely audible over the noise of the crowd.  Harry lifts his pint glass and clicks it against her drink.

They both take a sip of their drinks, and when Harry lowers his glass, there’s a mischievous glint in his eye that immediately makes Y/N uneasy. “I have another idea for a story.” He says, setting his glass down and pointing towards the stage. “How about the story of us singing karaoke at a bar in Cleveland, Ohio?”

Y/N snorts, half folding herself over their table as the snort turns into a full laugh. “Not a chance in hell, Styles!” She says through her laughter, tapping her fingers against the wood table top.

Harry pushes her shoulder, making her sit up again as he tries to convince her. “Come on!  We’ve been singing in the car for two days straight! There’s tons of songs we could do—”

“The car is completely different than a stage!” Y/N argues, shaking her head firmly. “No way!”

“What, are you worried about making a fool of yourself?” Harry raises an eyebrow as he gestures around the bar. “Is there anyone you know in the audience?  The audience that’s full of people who are pissed out of their minds?”

Biting her lip hard for a moment, Y/N gives a reluctant shake of her head. “No.” She mumbles, looking down. “But I just—I don’t sing karaoke.”

“And you didn’t spend five days in the car with me, either.  Until you did, and we had fun.” Harry points a ringed pointer finger at her, and the annoying glint in his eye means he knows he has her trapped. “There is literally no better place to try it than right now, in this bar, where you know no one.”

Y/N glances around the bar, appraising her surroundings.  She knows Harry has a point; besides himself, she knows not a single soul in the building.  They’ll be leaving tomorrow morning, and she won’t ever find herself in this bar—or, honestly, Cleveland, Ohio—again.  If there was ever a time to try karaoke, it would be now.  

And hasn’t this trip been full of trying new things?  New foods, new conversations, new ways of thinking…Y/N finds herself locking eyes with Harry, losing herself in his intense gaze.  Y/N’s not sure what’s swirling around in his irises, whether it’s alcohol or something else entirely, but it’s intoxicating.

Y/N lets out a harsh exhale, pulling the straw out of her drink and downing it entirely in one swift motion. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand as she slams the glass back on the table before looking back at Harry to find a new grin pasted across his pink lips.

“Alright.” Y/N slips off her stool, stumbling for just a moment until Harry catches her elbow. “You go pick the song.” She says, pointing towards the DJ near the stage. “I-I’m going to run to the bathroom.”

Harry nods, catching his lip between his teeth as his hand squeezes her arm. “Are you alright?  You stumbled there—”

“I’m fine!  Perfect, actually.” Y/N assures him, pulling away and walking towards the washroom.  She calls over her shoulder to him as she does. “Go pick the song!  I’ll be back in a moment!”

When Y/N reaches the washroom, she’s surprised to find it empty, and she’s even more surprised when she catches her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Is that really her? She wonders, propping herself up on the counter as she leans closer to examine herself.  Her skin is flushed from the alcohol, all across her cheeks and neck, and it only gets warmer as the heat of the bar finally hits her. Y/N undoes the top few buttons of her plaid shirt, exposing her chest to the air.  Cocking her head to the side, Y/N studies herself for a moment before undoing the rest of the buttons and rolling up the sleeves to wear the shirt like a cardigan, leaving her bralette exposed.  It’s a different look than anything she’s ever done, but…she likes it, she realizes, as her eyes scan over her reflection.  She likes this.  Being somewhere that no one knows her, somewhere filled with people that won’t judge her for drinking too much, somewhere that she doesn’t have to worry about stories getting back to her work.  Y/N likes the wild look in her eyes, the breathlessness stirring inside her, the plumpness of her lips from the ice of her drinks.   When she looks at herself, she sees a different person. Someone she doesn’t recognize. Someone who seems to know what they want.

Her phone vibrating in her back pocket pulls her from her thoughts, and it takes Y/N a moment for her intoxicated self to manage to pull it out.  When she sees Brant’s name flashing on the screen, she only hesitates for one second before hitting decline.  That one second of hesitation, however, is all it takes to make her contemplate herself in the mirror again, second guessing what she sees.  She tucks her phone away before washing her hands, and splashes a little bit of cold water on her cheeks to help cool herself down. Giving herself one last look over, Y/N buttons the few bottom buttons of her shirt back together, tying it into a neat knot to cover her stomach.  Even if no one here knows her…she can’t get too wild.  She still has to be who she is.

After exiting the bathroom, Y/N returns to the table, expecting Harry to be waiting there for her. All she finds, however, is his jacket tossed over the back of his chair, and his now empty pint glass sitting on the table. Y/N turns in a small circle, wondering where he is in the crowd when she hears his slightly slurred voice magnified over the speakers.

“Y/N.  Up here, love, c’mon.”

Y/N turns towards the stage, her eyes wide as she realizes Harry has a microphone in one hand and has the other hand wrapped around the microphone stand.  His smile is practically glowing underneath the stage lights, and his eyes seem to be doing the same.  He releases the mic stand to run a hand through his hair before beckoning her forward.

“Ladies and gentlemen of Cleveland, this—” Harry points towards Y/N, and she almost swears that every person in the bar turns towards her. “This is my very good friend Y/N. And five days ago, she hated my guts!” The crowd boos, and Y/N stares at Harry with incredulous eyes.  What is he doing?

“No, no, don’t boo, it’s alright.  I hated her guts too.” Harry says with a shrug, leaning against the mic stand again. “But everything’s alright now!  We’re getting along, she’s stopped being such a control freak, and she even said she would let me pick a song for us to sing tonight, isn’t that nice?”

The crowd cheers as Y/N walks towards the stage, stopping just before it to stare up at Harry as he continues his drunken monologue.  If she was sober, she’d probably pull him down from the stage, grab the front of his patterned button down shirt, and drag him back to their table.  But the alcohol running through her system is making her bold, and with her head swimming in the amber liquid she’d been consuming, all she can do is laugh and stumble her way to the stairs to the stage.

Someone wearing a t-shirt with the bar’s logo on it helps her up the stairs, handing her a microphone once she makes it onto the stage.  Harry, realizing she’s where she needs to be now, motions to the DJ behind her, and a familiar beat that Y/N can’t place begins to play.

“Harry—” Y/N speaks without raising the microphone to her lips. “What song—?”

“Don’t worry, you know it.” Harry assures her, his eyes flickering over her appearance quickly. “You look great.  Just go with it!”

There’s really no choice but to go with it, she thinks, because within a moment, Harry has a simpering smile on his face as he lifts the microphone to his lips, his body turned towards the audience but his eyes flickering to you.

“‘I wasn’t jealous before we met…now every man I see is a potential threat’.” He sings in a confident voice, and Y/N watches the split second it takes for the crowd to realize he’s actually good.  And it’s not just his voice, she thinks.  It’s his demeanor.  The part of Harry’s personality that had first irritated her, the part that lives for a spotlight, the part that can draw someone in with a snap of a finger…that part shines on a stage.

In contrast, all Y/N can do is stare with a shocked expression painted across her face as Harry continues to serenade the crowd.  He makes eye contact with specific people as he croons the next lines, his hand confidently wrapped around the microphone “‘And I’m possessive, it isn’t nice…you’ve heard me say that smoking is my only voice’.”

It’s then that Harry’s attention turns back to Y/N, his eyelids hooded, half hiding his emerald eyes as he saunters back towards her.  It’s like a switch has flipped in his head, because Y/N is certain that he’s never looked at her in this way before. “‘But now it isn’t true…now everything is new’…” The closer Harry gets to her, the less Y/N can breathe. By the time he’s a foot away from her, she feels like her breaths are stuttering in her chest, giving barely enough oxygen to her body to keep her going.  

Harry, it seems, is unaware of the affect he’s having on her.  His long limbs are loose and free as he continues to move closer, the smirk on his face intertwined with something deeper that Y/N’s drunken mind can’t quite put her finger on. “‘And all I’ve learned, has overturned…I beg of you’…”

The scent of cologne, alcohol, and sweat that emanates from Harry as he gets close enough to press his forehead to hers reminds Y/N exactly where she is, and what she’s supposed to be doing.  Just managing to bring the microphone to her lips in time, Y/N shoves Harry on his shoulder, pushing him away enough that she can walk past him and distance herself. “‘Don’t go wasting your emotion’…” She sings, glancing at him over her shoulder as she moves away.  Harry watches her with darkened eyes, a hungry look on his face as Y/N begins to sway her hips to the music.  It’s fun, she realizes, being on stage like this, and playing the part with Harry as she sets down a challenge. “‘Lay all your love on me’.”

The crowd cheers as Harry begins to take measured steps towards Y/N again, looking like the cat who wants to catch the canary.  Y/N, ever the competitive player, refuses to give in so easily, and quickly extends a hand to two people sitting in front of the stage.  They give her support as she slides down from the platform, working her way through the tables without so much as a glance behind herself at Harry, who she knows is following her.

“‘It was like shooting a sitting duck…a little small talk, a smile and baby I was stuck’.” Y/N finally turns around, pausing her walk to see Harry hopping down from the stage. She points at him slowly, giving a small shake of her head as she sings the next line. “‘I still don’t know what you’ve done to me…a grownup woman should never fall so easily’…”

Harry’s smirk only grows, and he runs a hand haphazardly through his sweaty curls.  He’s enjoying playing the part too, and Y/N can tell by the way he allows her to cross the seating area, so that they’re walking parallel to each other towards the bar.  He’s not chasing her down.  He’s taking his time, knowing that he’ll get her in the end.

“‘I feel a kind of fear…when I don’t have you near’…” Y/N pauses at a table of two men and a woman, leaning down between the latter two.  She only takes her eyes off Harry for a moment to give a questioning look to the man, who gives her a smile of permission.  Y/N runs her fingers across his shoulder and down his arm, but keeps her eyes glued to Harry the entire time. “‘Unsatisfied, I skip my pride…I beg you dear’…”

When he sees Y/N’s fingers trace down the collar of someone else, Harry’s brow furrows in jealousy, his jade eyes shifting even darker than they were before.  He keeps pace with Y/N as she begins to move again, but there’s an air of tension in his saunter that wasn’t there a moment ago.  When he sings, it sounds like half plea, half demand. “‘Don’t go wasting your emotion…lay all your love on me’.” Harry rounds a table of people before beginning to close the distance between him and Y/N, each of them now standing in front of the bar.  With the tension between them now palpable, the crowd is moving out of their way discreetly, watching as the two approach each other. Harry licks his red lips before singing the next line. “‘Don’t go sharing your devotion…lay all your love on me’.”

Y/N releases her bottom lip from between her teeth, running her fingers over the finished wood of the bar before pulling herself to sit atop it.  She crosses her legs carefully before leaning her weight on one hand, giving a small shrug, knowing that Harry’s eyes are glued to her every motion as the bartender pours him a shot. “‘I’ve had a few little love affairs…they didn’t last very long and they’ve been pretty scarce’…”

Harry’s lips wrap around the shot glass, throwing it back just in time to sing the next line as tequila drips from the corner of his mouth.  The drop of alcohol runs down his chin to trace the muscles of his neck, and as Harry pulls himself to sit next to Y/N on the bar, the only thing she wants to do is lean forward and lick the liquor from his skin.

“‘I used to think I was sensible’…” Harry passes a newly poured shot to Y/N, meaning for her to take it from him, and he nearly stutters over his next line as Y/N wraps her hand around his own, guiding him to guide the shot to her mouth.  There’s a sharp intake of air into the microphone before Harry can sing again, and Y/N smirks at the small victory as she wipes her mouth doing her best to hide how the bitter taste of the tequila affects her. “‘It makes the truth even more incomprehensible’.”

Y/N brings her microphone to her mouth again to sing the next verse with Harry, their eyes locked together as they lean forward into each other.  Despite the cheering of the crowd, Y/N can’t help but feel as though she and Harry are the only two in the bar, as if this—very public—performance were small and intimate and just between them.

“‘Because everything is new’…” Harry grips the knot in Y/N’s plaid shirt, easily pulling it undone with one hand.  His eyes break away from hers for only a moment to canvas over her newly exposed midriff and lace bralette before snapping back to her gaze with a renewed vigor. He keeps the tails of the shirt clutched within his strong hand as he begins to lean back on the bar, pulling Y/N down with him.

“‘And everything is you’…” Y/N almost falls over before she catches herself, bracing one hand beside Harry’s head on the bar to support her weight as he lays down fully. She can feel how tightly he’s gripping her shirt by how the hem of it is pressing into her skin, and the pressure of the fabric cues another kind of pressure to begin to curl inside her stomach. When she sucks in a breath, she can taste tequila and Harry’s cologne on her tongue, and she struggles to bite back a whine while Harry wraps her shirt tighter around his hand.

“‘And all I’ve learned has overturned’…” Harry releases the wrinkled fabric of her shirt, his now freed hand trading the cloth for the skin of her exposed waist.  The coolness of his rings against her flushed skin makes Y/N’s breath stutter, and she curls her body over him more in response.  The taste of Harry’s touch has sparked a need to be closer, as well as a new fluttering in her core, and judging by the way Harry keeps licking his lips, he knows it.

Refusing to be the only one affected by their close proximity, Y/N moves her supporting hand from the bar to Harry’s hair, tugging on it harshly as Harry opens his mouth to sing the next line.  As Y/N sings “‘I beg of you’…” with a pleading glance, Harry grunts deep in his throat, just managing to pull the microphone away from his lips so that Y/N is the only one to hear it.

Although getting a reaction out of Harry was her goal, actually hearing that reaction is another story entirely.  Heat rushes to Y/N’s face as Harry grips her waist tighter, pressing her thighs and hips to his own as he guides the two of them to the beat of the music.  The cheering and wolf whistles from the crowd are the only thing that keep Y/N grounded and in the moment, reminding her that—despite how it feels—there are people watching the two of them.

“‘Don’t go wasting your emotion…lay all your love on me’.” Harry grinds his hip against Y/N’s once more, moving them in a steady and consistent pace.  Y/N repositions her body in return, spreading her legs so she can straddle Harry’s hips more easily.  She knows, though, that she needs to start pulling back.  She has to do something to get away from him, to break the trance that his touch has her in, before she does something she’ll regret.

“‘Don’t go sharing your devotion’…” Y/N slowly sits back up, letting go of Harry’s hair in order to trail her free hand down his chest. Although she knows that she’s supposed to be distancing herself from him, she can’t resist digging her nails in just the slightest bit, delighting in the hiss that leaves his mouth. “‘Lay all your love on me’…”

Harry sits up slowly as the key changes, his eyes glued to Y/N’s lips as she sings a line by herself, her voice growing ever so slightly fainter every time Harry tugs on his red lips with his teeth, soothing the mark with his tongue a moment after. “‘Don’t go wasting your emotion…lay all your love on me’…”

Now that they’re both sitting upright, Harry grips their bodies and turns them so that their legs once again dangle off the bar.  Y/N can feel the blood rushing from her head as she drapes her arm over Harry’s shoulder, her eyelids fluttering as Harry digs his fingertips into her waist. “‘Don’t go sharing your devotion’…” Harry’s pupils are so blown that his irises practically look black.  His chest is heaving with every breath, his exposed skin flushed and sweaty.  His curls are a mess from Y/N tangling her fingers in them.  If Y/N didn’t know any better, she’d say Harry looks freshly fucked, and then she wonders if she looks the same.  By the way Harry’s looking at her, she thinks it’s safe to say that she does.

“‘Lay all your love on me’.” They finish together, hungry eyes locked with each other while the wolf whistles and clapping gets louder as the final notes of the song trail off.  This is where they should break apart, Y/N thinks, her chest moving rapidly with every ragged breath she takes.  This is where she should climb off Harry’s lap, climb down from the bar, return the microphones to the DJ, and gather her things and go.  This is the end of whatever the hell just happened during that song.  This is where she says “Harry, we have to be up early tomorrow to drive, so we should go back to the motel.”

To her credit, Y/N tries. She swallows hard, her mouth as dry as it’s ever been, and sucks in another breath, almost whimpering at the taste of his cologne in the back of her throat.  Don’t, she tells herself.  She needs to say what she needs to say.  Their game is done.  It’s over.

“Harry—” She begins, and that’s all she manages to say before Harry is kissing her.

Her body reacts before her mind does, but between the overwhelming sensations all around her and the copious amounts of liquor that her brain is swimming in, Y/N can only register every third movement.  The microphone falling from her hand onto the bar as she tangles her fingers back in Harry’s curls, twisting and pulling and receiving the most delightful gasps from him in return.  Harry’s teeth catching her bottom lip, just barely tugging on the tender flesh. Ringed hands keeping a firm grip on Y/N’s sides as Harry helps her down from the bar, his lips still pressed firmly against her own.  The lingering taste of tequila on Harry’s skin as Y/N kisses down his jaw, unable to completely pull away as Harry struggles to settle their tab with the bartender.

She’s never felt like this before; Y/N didn’t even know it could feel like this.  She didn’t know that she could feel an ache so deep inside her, both painful and pleasurable at the same time, and be so completely aware that the only cure for it is the touch of another person.  Y/N had been convinced that this rush was something that was fiction, made up by steamy romance novels to entice lonely housewives to dive beneath their pages. And yet here she is, stumbling out of a bar in Cleveland, Ohio, with Harry Styles, someone that she swore up and down that she hated five days ago.  Here she is with Harry’s jacket draped over her heated shoulders, his hands slipped underneath, rubbing at her exposed skin as he guides her back to the motel.  Here she is with his lips connected to her neck the moment their motel room door is closed, his fingers fumbling with the locks on the door as he refuses to pull away from her.

Yes, Y/N thinks, as she grinds her hips against Harry’s, relishing in the strangled moan that he breathes into her mouth: it’s never felt like this.

“Y/N—” Each pant of her name from his lips sounds like a song. “Fuck, Y/N—” Harry pulls back from her just enough to suck in a full breath, the first in what feels like hours. “I—we—”

“Shut up.” Y/N uses her grip on his hair to pull his head back, trailing open mouthed kisses over his jugular. “Just shut up, Harry, I need—I just need—”

“Need what?” Harry demands, eyes dark as he pushes himself away from her.  An involuntary whine at the loss of contact escapes from Y/N’s throat, and Harry has to steel himself again before he can continue. “What do you need?” He asks, struggling to keep his voice controlled. “You—you have to tell me, so that—I need you to be clear.”

Y/N licks over her swollen lips, eyes blown wide with lust as she stares up at Harry, struggling to find the words.  “I need…” She swallows once more, inhaling sharply as he grips her shoulders to steady her. “I need you, Harry.  Just fuck me. I-I need you to—”

Before she can finish her request, Harry has scooped her up into his arms, tossing her on the creaking motel bed as if she were a rag doll.  A gasp of shock leaves Y/N’s mouth, and she’s barely managed to sit up before Harry is caging his body over hers, forcing her back down as he kisses her hard.

Y/N’s hands go straight to the hem of his shirt, tugging roughly on the fabric, shoving it up Harry’s body before he gets the clue to half sit up and pull it off himself. After that, it’s a rush to remove clothes, each of them blindly pulling off shirts and bras and pants.  Everything is rushed, and that’s what Y/N wants. She doesn’t want time to lay down and explore, and allow herself space to second guess her decision.  All she wants is Harry to do something about the ache in her core, to fill her up so completely that she’ll be feeling him for days. It’s that need that makes Y/N tug on his hair to get his attention as he begins to kiss her thighs.

“No.” She shakes her head haphazardly, and the room spins slightly when she finishes the motion. “No, I just—I just need you to fuck me.  I’m ready, Harry—”

“But—” His teeth tug roughly on his bottom lip, mimicking Y/N’s actions from moments ago. “I want to taste—”

“Please, Harry.” Y/N whines, throwing her head back on the motel pillow. “It’s been so long since I’ve been full…please…”

The lewd admission catches Harry off guard. “Fucking hell—” He spits out, his hands tugging on his hair as he sits up. “Yeah, I—okay.” He closes his eyes for a moment to steady himself, the struggle to have a coherent thought clear on his face. “Okay, I need…”

Harry’s eyes begin to search the room, and the moment they settle on his bag in the corner, he rushes towards it.  Y/N watches the muscles in his back shift beneath his smooth skin as he unzips the bag, rummaging through it before pulling out a tiny foil square.  He tucks the package between his teeth as his hands fumble with his belt, undoing it quickly and pulling it off to toss to the floor.  He undoes his button and fly as he climbs back onto the bed, doing his best to waste no time as he situates himself between Y/N’s still spread legs.  

“Y’look so hot like this, y’know that?” He can’t stop himself from muttering the words as he pulls his pants down just enough to free his cock.  Y/N stares hungrily at how swollen he is, only half listening to Harry’s words as she watches his hand stroke himself, the other lifting the condom package to his teeth.  He tears the foil open, spitting the little tag from his mouth as he removes the condom from the foil.  That foil is soon tossed to the ground before Harry gives himself one last stroke, quickly but carefully rolling the condom down the length of his shaft.

Placing his hands on either knee, Harry spreads Y/N’s legs even wider, his eyes greedily taking in the sight of her bare core. “You’re dripping.” Harry says in a low voice, and before Y/N can reply with anything, he runs a ringed finger over her folds and slips it into his mouth.

“Ah—!” Y/N gasps at the unexpected sensation, the minimal contact enough to send her reeling. Harry grins at the response, loving how the pleasure from the small action is clearly written across her face.

“Sorry.” He says with a small shrug, lining himself up with her entrance. “Just wanted a little taste, tha’s all.  Couldn’t resist.” Harry drags the tip of his cock along Y/N’s slick core, a look of concentration overtaking his features. “I’ll go slow—”

A sound of protest leaves Y/N’s mouth. “No.  Go fast. I need it, Harry, please—” Her plea is cut off by Harry thrusting inside her with one sharp movement, and then Y/N stops talking completely.

There’s a slight feeling of pain, as she wasn’t lying when she said it’s been a while since she’s been with someone, but underneath that pain, pleasure is quickly building as Harry begins to snap his hips towards hers, finding a rhythm within a few thrusts. Y/N knows immediately that Harry is probably one of the largest men—if not the largest man—she’s ever been with, but that’s exactly what she needs right now.  The moment he filled her for the first time, there was a feeling of completeness that she’s been missing in her life for a long time.  She needed this, she thinks.  She needed to be stretched, to be filled, to be fucked, and Harry is the only one that could have fulfilled those needs this well. She’s convinced of it.

It’s far from the most romantic sex Y/N’s ever had; it’s all teeth clacking, biting, scratching, tugging, and growling.  And she knows that she should be concerned about how Harry’s teeth biting down on her shoulder is going to leave marks, especially when she has to wear a bridesmaid dress in less than 48 hours.  But all of that is exactly what she needs.  She doesn’t want Harry to whisper how much he loves her, how close he feels to her, how happy he is to be with her.  She doesn’t want to hear him say anything, except—

“Feel so fucking good around my cock.” He growls, his fingertips digging deeper into the flesh of her hips. “So bloody tight, Y/N…”

A sharp gasp tumbles out of Y/N’s throat as Harry swivels his hips, finding the exact spot she needs him the most. “Oh God, Harry, I—” Y/N scratches her nails down his back, surely leaving a trail of angry red marks in her place, as her other hand twists the sheets within her grip. “Fuck, right there, right there, right there—”

“Feels good, yeah? You like it?” Harry manages to bring a hand to her hair, tangling it within her locks and pulling hard. “Tell me.” His voice is so much lower than she’s ever heard it, his accent so much thicker, and the combination sends Y/N’s eyes rolling into the back of her head. “Tell me how much you love my cock, and—fuck—how much you love me fucking you.”

Y/N’s mouth falls open, a strangled whine echoing from the back of her throat as the head of Harry’s cock presses against her G-spot again. “I-I love it, Harry, I—your cock fills me so well—don’t stop, please don’t stop—!”

Using her moans as fuel, Harry begins to thrust faster, tugging on Y/N’s hair one last time before grasping her hips between his hands to gain more control.  If his flushed skin and the sweat covering his entire body is any indication, Y/N can tell that Harry is just as close as she is.  Her breathing quickens just as the sound of the bed creaking does, and she brings one hand down to her clit to rub fast circles, desperate to reach her release.

“Harry—” She gasps for what seems the millionth time that night, her body shuddering as she pushes closer and closer to the edge. “I’m so fucking close, Harry, please—”

The growl that falls from Harry’s mouth almost doesn’t sound like him.  It’s deeper, more animalistic, and so unlike the careful and slow voice that she’s gotten used to over the last five days.  Releasing one hand from her hip, he pushes her hand out of the way, replacing her fingers with his own to rub circles over her clit. “Cum for me, Y/N. I know you need it, baby, so just—” Harry groans as her walls squeeze his length. “Just cum.”

The command combined with his motions is all it takes to push Y/N over the edge.  A breathless gasp falls from her open mouth, and she screws her eyes shut as pleasure courses through her body.  It’s so much more intense than anything she’s felt before, so much more pleasurable, so much more dizzying, and just so much more. Small whimpers and Harry’s name are the only things she can think to say as her orgasm makes her movements stutter before falling limply back onto the bed.

“Fuck—” Harry moans roughly as he kisses her one more time, his mouth falling open against hers as her orgasm triggers his own.  Although the rhythm of his thrusts stutters, they don’t completely stop, and he continues to slam his hips against her own as he rides out his orgasm. “That’s it, baby—squeeze me tight—” Harry pants into Y/N’s mouth, barely registering anything he’s saying, let alone the pet name that’s begun to fall from his lips. “Christ…”

Things become a blur after that.  After Harry pulls out, all Y/N can focus on is how empty she feels without his thick cock filling her to the brim, and she doesn’t even realize that he’s gotten off the bed until he returns, his weight causing the whole bed frame to creak once more. With both of them so sweaty, Harry only pulls the top sheet over their panting bodies, pressing his head into the crook of Y/N’s neck as his eyes close.

Neither of them says anything, and for multiple reasons.  What exactly is there to say?  And, more pressing, what exactly is Y/N capable of saying right now?  There are no words running through her mind. All she can do is think in terms of physical contact and needs, and those two things tell her everything she knows in this moment.  She knows that Harry is in just his boxers now because she can’t feel the rough fabric of his pants against her bare skin.  She knows that she needs his hands on her, cupping her breasts the way he is. She knows that if he were to move away from her, she’d go chasing after him.  She knows that she’s completely worn out—completely fucked out, really—and above all else, she knows that whatever needs to be discussed between them can be discussed the next morning.

Harry, however, seems to have a different approach.  His face still pressed into her neck, he mumbles something against her sweat soaked skin, low and deep and completely inaudible.  Y/N feels an open mouthed kiss pressed to her neck, and then hears another mumble, this one even quieter than the last.

“Hm?” Y/N barely manages to hum the syllable in her exhaustion.

There’s no response, no repeat of the quiet phrases, and it takes Y/N a few minutes of feeling Harry’s breathing even out to realize that he’s fallen asleep.  If she were sober and had the mental capacity to examine things, Y/N would wonder what it was that Harry whispered into her skin.  But her brain is swimming in exhaustion and endorphins and tequila, and the only thing she can do is close her eyes and allow her breathing to sync up with the rise and fall of Harry’s chest.

…

The first thing Y/N registers the next morning is the shrill ringing of her cell phone, which somehow made its way to the bedside table in her drunken fervour the night before. The second thing she registers is the pounding of her head, like she can feel each pump of blood to her brain, and the uncomfortably dry feeling in her mouth, as if it’s been stuffed full of cotton. The third thing Y/N registers is—

“Christ.” Harry groans into her neck, his voice raspy from sleep and laced with irritation. “God, who is calling right now?”

Right.  The third thing she registers, probably the most complicated of all, Y/N thinks, is just how much of Harry’s taut and tattooed bare skin is pressed against her own.  His strong arms are thrown over her waist, clutching her tight to his chest. In the back of her mind, she’s vaguely aware of the chain of Harry’s cross pressing into her breast, probably leaving a small red indentation along with the other marks he left on her last night.

Last night.

Y/N lets out a small whine as the previous evening comes rushing back to her.  It’s a blur of alcohol, ABBA, and Harry.  Harry is everywhere, in every blurred picture her hungover brain can conjure.  Laughing at her from across the table.  Smirking at her on stage.  Staring at her with a hungry look in his eyes as he pulled her down on top of him on the bar, grinding his hips into hers.  Kissing her.  Kissing her multiple times.  Coming back to their room with his hands leaving scorching imprints over every inch of her.  And now, him laying next to her, clutching the two of them together like they’ve always done this.  Like it’s natural.

The phone rings again, louder than the last time, and Harry curses under his breath, the short exhale of air leaving goosebumps along Y/N’s neck.  He lifts his head just barely as he reaches across Y/N’s body, grabbing her phone from the bedside table and not bothering to check the caller ID as he answers.

“Hello?” He says, the rasp of sleep still clear his voice.  Within three seconds, Harry’s entire body tenses against Y/N, his arm constricting around her waist enough to shift her on the bed.

Y/N lifts her head up when she feels the change, finally opening her eyes just enough to read the change in Harry’s body language.  What she finds are dark and stormy green eyes, a swollen red mouth pressed into a thin line, and a deep crease between his furrowed brow, all of it such a contrast from the hazy memories of him the night before.

“I—yeah, she’s right here.” Harry mutters, his eyes snapping to Y/N’s face for just a moment. “I’ll—oh. Yeah, no, the trip’s been…good. Yeah.  Not too much traffic.” His arm moves off her waist as he pulls away from her, rolling onto his back as the bed creaks beneath them.  With his newly freed hand, Harry covers his eyes, rubbing them for a moment as the irritation on his face grows. “Yeah, it was nice of me to give her a ride.  Yeah.” He sucks in a breath. “Well, she’s—she’s awake now.  Here.  I’ll let you two talk.”

Y/N props herself up on one elbow, careful to keep the sheet pressed to her chest so that she’s not exposed. She knows that Harry’s already seen everything, touched everything, and kissed everything, but the sudden change in his demeanor is telling her that she needs to be guarded, even if she has no idea what caused it.

Harry holds out her phone for her, his face stony as Y/N slowly accepts it. “Harry—?” She begins, but he just gives a rough jerk of his head, and offers no other explanation.

Eyes still glued to Harry’s face, Y/N brings the phone to her ear, clearing the sleep from her voice. “Hello?”

“Hi.” The familiar cadence of Brant’s voice crackles through the phone speaker, an indication of how far away he is from her. “It’s good to finally hear your voice; I haven’t been able to catch you the last few days.”

Y/N keeps her eyes on Harry as her body goes cold, pressing the sheet tighter to her chest. “Brant.” She whispers his name unintentionally; her body won’t allow her to say it any louder. “Hi.”

At the sound of Brant’s voice leaving her lips, Harry throws the covers off of himself, jerkily pulling himself off of the low motel room bed.  He snatches his jeans off the floor, and doesn’t give Y/N another glance as he walks to the small bathroom, slamming the door behind himself.

“Hi.” Brant says again, completely unaware of what’s happening on the other end of the telephone line. “I’ve missed you.  Where are you now?”

“Uh, Cleveland.” Y/N says weakly, stumbling her way out of the bed to her duffel bag.  She grabs a new bra and t-shirt, along with her comfiest pair of pants.  Without Harry beside her, she’s freezing. “Today’s our last day of driving.”

“Oh, well, that’s good.” Brant replies easily. “The wedding is tomorrow, then?”

“Mhmm.” Y/N’s eyes flicker to the bathroom as the sound of the shower starting travels through the wood of the door. “And tonight is the rehearsal dinner.”

Brant makes a sound of acknowledgement on the other end of the phone. “That’ll be nice!  Do you know if you’re flying back?”

“Uh—” Y/N pauses her movements, her pants half pulled up her legs.  That, honestly, is a good question, and one which seems as though the answer is changing with every passing moment. “I guess I’ll call the airline and…see if I can fly back.  Maybe the storms will have passed.”

“You must have driven through them, right?  In Utah, or wherever they were?” Brant asks curiously. “Did they seem that bad? Honestly, I’ve always found thunder to be relaxing.  I think most people do.”

Y/N tugs her t-shirt over her head with one hand, accidentally bumping her chin as she does so.  The motion causes her to bite down on her tongue, and she lets out a curse under her breath, not even bothering to correct Brant.  It doesn’t matter, she thinks.  He probably wouldn’t remember. “Yeah.  Relaxing.”

The sound of the shower turning off catches her attention, distracting her from what Brant says next. “I—sorry—” She mutters in a distracted tone, raking her fingers through her sleep and sex mussed hair. “What was that?”

“I said let me know when you’re on your way back from New York, so I’ll make us a dinner reservation.” Brant repeats himself without suspicion of Y/N’s distracted tone. “We just got some new files at work that I think you’ll be very interested in.”

The bathroom door creaks open, and Harry emerges from the cloud of shower steam.  He’s dressed in just his pants, his marked chest still damp from the shower.  Although he catches Y/N’s eye for a moment, he quickly looks away, rubbing his towel through his wet curls as he turns to search for a shirt.  The red marks of Y/N’s nails are prominent on his otherwise unmarked back.

“Dinner?” Y/N repeats slowly, chewing on her cuticle as she takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “Are you—you still want to get dinner?”

“Of course.  I enjoy our weekly dinners, don’t you?” Brant asks, confusion finally slipping into his voice. “I’ve missed them.”

“I—” Y/N clears her throat, rubbing her thumb absentmindedly over her bottom lip. “Okay.  Yeah.  Dinner. I’ll, um, I’ll let you know when I book a flight home.”

“Sounds wonderful. Well, I’ll let you get on the road. Let me know when you’re available.” Brant’s voice already sounds more and more distant. “Goodbye.”

“Bye.” Y/N replies lamely, letting her phone drop to the crumpled bed sheets.

There’s a rustling behind her, the sound of a belt clicking, of the zipper on a duffel bag being pulled shut.  Y/N waits for a moment, to give Harry the chance to say something to her, but nothing comes.  Finally, she twists around on the bed, her nerves running on high.

Harry is completely dressed now, a black t-shirt covering his previously bare chest, and he’s tied his familiar green bandana into his damp chestnut locks.  His sunglasses are hanging on the neck of his shirt, but even without them covering his emerald eyes, Y/N can’t decipher anything that’s swirling within them.

“That—that was Brant.” She says finally, scratching a nail over the palm of her hand.

Harry jerks his head in a nod as he shoulders his duffel bag. “Yeah.  I heard.” Tapping his fingers against the leather strap, he finally spares a glance at Y/N. “He wants to take you to dinner, huh?”

Running her teeth along her bottom lip, Y/N takes a moment before she replies. “Harry, I—”

“I’ll be in the car.” He mutters, taking long strides to the door and unlocking it with a harsh turn of his hand. “Just hurry up, yeah?  I want to get on the road soon, so we’re not late to the rehearsal dinner.”

When he slams the door behind him, Y/N breaks.

…

And just like that, it’s like they’re back at square one.

It really feels like the first day all over again, Y/N thinks, in every sense of the sentiment. From the way she and Harry sit in silence, each avoiding the other’s gaze, to how every single one of Harry’s movements is filled with a tight and tense irritation.  Even the sound of Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer” is familiar, echoing through the speakers of the car like a soundtrack to an old memory.  

After four hours, the silence is finally getting to her.  She can’t stop shifting in her seat, her muscles seizing from hours on end in the same position—although, frankly, her soreness may partially be a result of her and Harry’s activities from the night before—and with every short and hard breath Harry sighs, Y/N gets more and more antsy.

“Harry.” She says finally, risking a glance at him from the corner of her eye.  He has one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the stick shift, both grips tight enough to stretch his skin over the bones of his knuckles until it goes white.  At the sound of Y/N’s voice, his jaw flexes, but he shows no other evidence that he heard her.

A frustrated sigh falls past Y/N’s lips. “Harry.” She says again, firmer this time. “Are you going to ignore me all the way to the Catskills?”

Realizing that he can’t feign deafness, Harry lets his shoulders lift once and drop down again in a quick motion. “’M not ignoring you.” He mutters, keeping his eyes glued to the road.

“We’re not talking. At all.” Y/N taps her fingers against her knee, just slightly off the beat of the music. “Shouldn’t we talk about what happened?”

“Why?” Harry asks, his voice flatter than she’s ever heard it. “What’s there to talk about?”

Y/N twists her body in her seat, her seat belt nearly cutting into her throat with how quickly she moves. “What the hell do you mean, what’s there to talk about?  There’s plenty!  Last night—”

Harry cuts over her with a sharp tone, still refusing to look away from the road. “Last night we got drunk, and we made a mistake.” His grip tightens even more on the gear shift as he moves it to accelerate the car. “And it shouldn’t have happened.”

It takes a few moment for the words to register in her brain, and Y/N blinks slowly as the process unfolds. “You think it was a mistake?” She tries to ask the question as nonchalantly as possible.

“I do.” Harry nods tightly, and while Y/N thinks that she can detect something else underneath his tone, his dark sunglasses hide the truth of his thoughts from her. “We got caught up with trying to—to pretend we’re not who we are.  But we know who we are.”

If Y/N’s brain couldn’t process Harry’s words a moment ago, it’s working in overdrive now as she draws a million different conclusions from the conversation.  What the fuck does “we know who we are” mean?  Wasn’t the whole point of this trip—the long lesson they’d learned together—that both of them were different than the other had thought? Hadn’t Harry proved to her, over and over, how he was so much more considerate and empathetic than she’d previously imagined?  Hadn’t she shown him that she wasn’t the Ice Queen he thought she was, wasn’t as controlling, wasn’t as perfect?  Hadn’t that been a good thing?  Hadn’t they bonded at roadside fruit stands, small souvenir shacks, ghost town gas stations, and dingy motel rooms?

But maybe…maybe she had imagined all of that, because the way that Harry is actively avoiding her gaze is telling her that he isn’t thinking the same thing.  Everything from his body language, to his tone of voice, to his attitude, is telling her that he’s just as stubborn and closed off as he was when they first met.  He hasn’t changed.  If he had, he wouldn’t be refusing to do something as simple as look at her.

Still, something about the interaction doesn’t sit right with Y/N.  Although she turns to face the windshield again, she keeps Harry in the corner of her gaze. “Is this…” She swallows hard. “Does this have something to do with Brant calling?”

A harsh snort is all the response she gets. “Christ, no.  Trust me, nothing that prick can do has that much of an affect on me.” Even from behind his sunglasses, Y/N can tell that Harry is rolling his eyes. “Although I suppose it is a reminder of where you belong.”

A flash of irritation rips up Y/N’s spine. “A reminder of what?” She repeats, eyes narrowing.

“You heard me, Y/N, don’t make me say it again.” Harry taps a finger to the song, perfectly on the beat. They’re out of sync, Y/N realizes. Had they ever been in sync?

No, she decides.  They hadn’t.  She’d just been fooling herself.  Being in the car for five days with only Harry for company had deluded her, but soon she’d be with Jo, and a million other people, and when she’s not in stuck in Harry’s car, smelling Harry’s cologne, listening to Harry’s music, she’ll have a clear head.  She’ll be able to think straight.

“Fine.” Y/N crosses her arms firmly over her chest, leaning her head against the cool glass of the passenger window.  A sign welcoming them to the state of New York whizzes past. “I won’t make you say it again.  You don’t have to say anything.”

…

“So?  What do you think?”

Y/N steps over the threshold of the cozy cabin, analyzing every little detail of the room as quickly as she can.  The interior seems to be one open concept room, cleverly split up with small architectural dividers.  The living room and kitchen flowed into each other smoothly, with a kitchen island dividing the space.  To the left of the living room is a small reading nook, holding a comfortable looking wicker swing chair and a half-size bookshelf that seems to be well stocked. Separating the reading nook from the rest of the cabin is the staircase, which Y/N presumes leads up to the master bedroom and bathroom that’s lofted above on the halved second floor. Between the wall of windows giving a beautiful view of the forest, the fire quietly cracking in the living room, and the potted plants scattered around the cabin, Y/N has to admit that she thinks she could live in this space for the rest of her life.

“It’s beautiful, Jo.” She finally replies, setting down her suitcase and duffel bag as she continues to look around.  She walks to the living room first, brushing her fingers over the cable knit blanket that’s draped over the back of the comfortable looking couch. “Is this for you and Laure?”

“Nope.  It’s for me and you.” Jo replies, walking to the kitchen and opening the fridge.  She pulls out a bottle of rosé, motioning over her shoulder to the cupboard. “Grab a couple wine glasses, would you?”

Y/N crosses to the kitchen, searching through the cupboards until she finds the glasses.  Setting them down on the island, she gives Jo a confused look. “Me and you?”

Jo gives her a familiar grin as she uncorks the wine, and the sight of it lights a warm fire in Y/N’s chest.  It feels like home. “It’s tradition for the bride not to see the bride before the wedding, isn’t it?  So after the rehearsal dinner, Laure and I will say goodbye until the ceremony tomorrow, and you and I—” She fills Y/N’s glass liberally. “Will have one last night of single girl fun.  And then you can have the cabin to yourself tomorrow night, because I will be on my honeymoon, and, hopefully, getting laid.”

Y/N smiles back at her as she lifts her glass, clinking it against Jo’s. “Sounds like a plan.” After taking a long sip, Y/N leans her elbows on the counter, propping her head in her hands. “I can’t believe you’re getting married tomorrow.  Married!”

“Yeah, well, that’s old news.” Jo waves her hand as she lowers her wine glass from her lips, her inquisitive eyes alight with mischief. “I’d rather know how the trip with Harry was. Are you two finally getting along? The last time I called, you actually sounded like you were enjoying yourself.”

Y/N pauses with her wine glass half lifted to her lips.  Part of her wants to tell Jo everything, because she always tells Jo everything. It feels wrong to have a secret from her.  But then again, she’s never had a reason to have a secret before.  Right now, however…the last thing Jo and Laure need the night before their wedding—three hours before the rehearsal dinner—is to be stressed because the maid of honour and the best man had a drunken one night stand in Cleveland, Ohio.  

“I wouldn’t say we’re getting along.” Y/N says diplomatically, taking a sip of wine between her words. “We’re…a bit better, I suppose.  But we’re not that close.”

“Really?” When Jo raises an eyebrow, Y/N almost swears that she can detect a hint of disappointment in her voice. “But Harry said—”

“He said what?” Y/N asks quickly, the diplomatic tone disappearing immediately.

Jo tugs on her bottom lip as she gives a small shrug of her shoulders. “Nothing, I guess.  I don’t know.  I overheard him and Laure talking last night, but I couldn’t really make much of it out.  It sounded like you two were at a bar.”

The new information makes Y/N pause.  Harry had called Laure while they were at the bar last night.  Harry had felt the need to call Laure while they were at the bar last night.  What had been so urgent, so pressing, that he needed to speak to her right then and there?

“A bar, yeah.” Y/N finally replies after a moment. “It was alright.  We just had a couple drinks to relax from being in the car.”

“Just drinks?  That’s all?  Nothing else?”

Y/N clears her throat, gulping down the rest of her wine before answering. “That’s it.  Nothing else.”

…

“Here you go, Miss Bride.” Y/N grins at Jo as she tops off her mimosa, fixing the tie of her pink silk robe as she settles back down in her chair. “Something to relax you, yeah?”

Jo glances up at Y/N, her pen pausing over the page of her notebook.  She’s careful when she moves her head, so as not to disturb the hairstylist that’s carefully curling her hair, but still manages to meet Y/N’s eye. “I’m relaxed.” She argues, but takes a sip of the drink nonetheless. “I just love mimosas.  You can’t blame me for that.”

Y/N gives a slight shrug as she brushes a strand of her own carefully styled hair over her shoulder. Jo, being Jo, had insisted on sleeping in as much as she could that morning, so when the hair and makeup lady had arrived two hours ago, Y/N had been the first one to get made over. Which, honestly, she quite enjoyed, but the real feat would be remaining picture perfect until the ceremony, which is still two hours away.

“Will you do something for me?” Jo asks suddenly, her pen still scratching over her notebook.  She finishes signing her name with a messy signature, waiting until the hairdresser has paused her movements to rip the page from the notebook and fold it up.  She quickly writes Laure’s name on the front and extends the note to Y/N. “Will you bring this to Laure?”

Although Y/N accepts the note from her automatically, there’s a flicker of hesitation in her voice. “This isn’t an explanation of why you’re leaving her at the altar, is it?”

Jo flips Y/N off with an elegantly painted fingernail. “No, you jerk.  We agreed to write letters to each other right before the wedding.  As a little keepsake.”

A sudden lump develops in Y/N’s throat as she turns the note over in her hands, her mind flickering back to the last time she’d read something Jo wrote for Laure.  How Harry’s voice had sounded reciting Laure’s words for Jo. “You two are sickeningly sweet, you know that?” Y/N finishes her mimosa before standing up, tightening her robe once again. “I’ll take it to her now. Where’s her cabin?”

“Just down the path towards the resort.  Take a left when you reach the arrow sign.” Jo instructs her, setting her notebook down beside her before relaxing back into her chair.  Her eyes close as the hairdresser continues styling her hair. “You’ll find it.”

Y/N nods, slipping on her scuffed up Vans before dashing outside.  When the slight chill in the morning air hits her, she pulls her silk dressing gown around her tighter, and debates whether or not she should grab a proper jacket.  She decides against it, however, and ignores the goosebumps popping up on her bare legs as she begins to walk down the path Jo mentioned.

It’s a quiet and calm morning, and Y/N can hear birds chirping and flittering through the pine trees around them.  The trees themselves add a wonderful scent to the air, in addition to the faint smell that indicates it may rain later.  Glancing up, Y/N can see that the sky is overcast, giving another indication of future weather patterns.  A small sigh escapes her.  A storm would be just the thing that’s needed today, she thinks wryly.  

When Y/N reaches the arrow sign, which points towards the lake, the main resort building, and the cabins, she takes a sharp left.  And practically slams into Harry’s chest.

On instinct, Harry’s strong hands grip her arms, steadying her as she stumbles back from him.  Y/N’s eyes widen as she registers who she almost walked into, and she can tell Harry is just realizing it’s her.  His grip on her tightens for just a moment before it releases, and he takes a step back from her, creating space between their bodies.

“Sorry.” Y/N says after a moment, clearing her throat. “I was just—”

“Yeah.” Harry holds up his hand, and for the first time Y/N realizes that he’s holding a note identical to hers. “You’re on messenger duty too, huh?”

Biting her lip, Y/N nods slowly, holding up her own note. “Mhmm.”

The two of them stare at each other for a moment, and Y/N doesn’t miss how Harry’s green irises pause during his scan of her bare legs.  Crossing her ankles together, Y/N lets her eyes wander too, admiring for a moment how Harry’s grey sweatpants cling to his hips.  But only for a moment.

“Well, here.” Y/N pushes the note towards him, taking the note that he trades her in return. “How’s Laure doing?”

Harry gives a half shrug, turning Jo’s note over and over in his fingers. “Pretty decent, except she won’t eat anything.  Says she’s too nervous.”

Y/N cracks a small smile at the image of Laure, someone who is usually so self assured and confident, being too nervous about anything. “Tell her she can’t have a drink until she eats.  That’s how I got some toast into Jo.”

“I’ll do that.” Harry says with a terse nod.  

A beat of silence falls between the two of them, the only sounds audible being the chirping of birds and the wind in the trees.  The latter sends a shiver through Y/N, and she wraps her arms around herself to rub her bare skin, trying to find a bit of warmth in the shade of the forest.

A crease appears between Harry’s brow as he registers the motion, and he quickly shrugs off his own jacket.  Before Y/N can refuse, he’s draping the fabric around her shoulders, careful not to touch any bare skin.

Although Y/N fixes the drape of the jacket, her mouth opens to protest. “Harry—”

“I should go.  I have to give this to Laure, and get her to eat something.” Harry’s voice is gruff as he takes a step back. “I suppose I’ll…see you at the wedding?”

Y/N nods slowly, her fingers still grazing over the hem of the jacket. “Yeah.” She should say more, she thinks.  She should voice her anger, or her hurt, or whatever the hell it is that’s curdling like a hot ball of lead inside her stomach, but she can’t think of the words. “Yeah, I—” I’m sorry.  I miss you. I wish I could take it back.  I wish I could do things over. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”

…

“Uh, hello.  Can everyone hear me?”

Y/N watches with expectant eyes as Harry leans forward over the podium, his pink lips brushing against the microphone for just a moment before he takes a step back.  He looks so different than the last time she’d seen him with a microphone, she thinks.  He’s dressed so much more formally, in a striking emerald suit that matches the colour palette of the wedding, along with Y/N’s dress.  His cheeks are flushed from champagne, his eyes bright, but there’s a hint of nerves under his thick accent.  

Harry raises his fist to his mouth, clearing his throat quietly as he unfolds a piece of paper and smooths it on the podium. “For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Harry Styles.  I have had the honour of being Laure’s best man today, as well as her best friend since we were teenagers.” Harry pauses his speech to smile at Laure, the fondness for the bride apparent in his eyes. “We’ve been through a lot together—I’ve watched her go through a lot, too—and she’s always come out on the other side better than ever.  An example of this is when she made the decision—after living in England her whole life, never leaving, living in the same small brownstone for eighteen years—to move to America for university.”

Y/N lifts her champagne to her lips, taking a small sip while keeping her eyes glued to Harry.  The more he talks, the more relaxed he appears, as he naturally falls into the role of a performer again.  Out of the corner of her eye, she can practically see him charming every woman in the room, and it takes all her concentration not to roll her eyes.

“She’d made the decision a bit impulsively, and—in true Laure fashion—stuck to it like the stubborn person she is.” Harry laughs lightly, shaking his head at the memory as Jo nods in agreement beside Y/N. “She was so certain that moving was what she wanted, so determined to do it—and then the night before her flight, she showed up at my house in tears, talking about how she couldn’t possibly go through with the move.  She couldn’t leave behind everything she’d known.” Glancing down at his notes for a moment, Harry takes a deep breath before continuing. “It freaked me out a bit, I won’t lie.  To see someone who’s usually so sure of themselves question such a big decision. But I assured her that everything would be fine, that moving forward was always scary, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t the right thing to do.  Life always pushes us forward, whether we’re ready for it or not.  So Laure left, and a month later, I decided to go visit her in America, expecting to find her incredibly homesick, in tears, a mess.” A small smile begins to play at the corner of Harry’s lip. “Instead, I arrived to find her adjusted, happy, and about to go on a date with a girl she had met named Jo.”

A laugh ripples through the wedding guests, and Y/N can’t help but smile in spite of herself.  

“And I, uh…I was at a loss for words that day.” Harry’s eyes flicker to the head table, settling on the two brides with a happy smile, and yet…something in his eyes looks flatter, like he’s trapped in a deep thought. “I thought I was going to visit my friend, and comfort her, and instead I found her on a date, completely fine.  She didn’t need me to comfort her.  She was—and still is—so incredibly resilient. She always has been.”

Harry’s eyes travel again, but this time, they settle on Y/N.  She shifts in her seat as he looks her over, his eyes phasing emotions again while his tongue swipes over his lips quickly. “So anyways—” Harry quickly looks away when he catches Y/N’s eye, turning his attention back to the audience of wedding guests. “I suppose I’m the one to thank for this marriage, because if I hadn’t pushed Laure to come to America, she would never have met Jo.” An easygoing smile pulls at his pink lips as the crowd laughs lightly. “And now, Laure…you’re at that same place again.  A new beginning.  Except this time, you’re not alone.  You managed to find something that most of us…” Harry hesitates again. “Most of us spend our entire lives searching for, and when we find it, we manage to f—screw it up.” His eyes flicker to Laure’s grandmother when he catches the curse word, and Y/N hides a small laugh behind her champagne glass. “But you didn’t. You and Jo…you’re lucky.  You figured out what you wanted, and you didn’t let anything—fear, anxiety, or your…your own pride—” Harry swallows hard, his eyes flickering to Y/N once more, and the glance makes her skin burn beneath her dress. “—stop you.  You’re both an inspiration to all of us.  I love you two.  To Jo and Laure!”

Y/N murmurs the toast with the rest of the crowd, raising her glass of champagne and draining it as her head spins with Harry’s words.  A waiter walks by and quickly refills the glass, grazing by Harry as he makes his way back to his seat on Laure’s right side.  Y/N barely gives herself a moment to catch his unreadable emerald eyes before she stands, carefully picking up the hem of her dress as she walks to the podium. It’s her turn now.

Stepping up to the microphone, Y/N clears her throat, resting her free hand against the wood to steady herself. “Thank you, Harry, that was…lovely.” Y/N begins, allowing herself one more stolen look at him.  His brow is furrowed, hands folded together over the cream tablecloth as his eyes focus on her.

“My name is Y/N, and I’m the maid of honour.  Jo and I have been best friends since the first day of kindergarten, when she punched a boy in the nose for me, which, funnily enough, wasn’t the last time she’d have to do that.” A laugh rolls through the room, and Y/N gives an endeared look to Jo’s sheepish grin before turning to face the wedding guests again. “I’ve had the good fortune of having her on my side from day one, and…I know just how lucky that makes me.  There’s so many times where I’d…I wouldn’t have been able to handle what life threw at me if I didn’t have Jo with me.  She’s kind, and compassionate, and fiery, and just…the very best person I know. And if you know her, then I’m sure you’d agree.”

Y/N takes a moment to breathe, her parched tongue swiping quickly over her lips. “I’ve, um, I’ve never been a perfect person.  I’ve never been very good at…articulating what I feel, or—or making a hard choice. I’ve always followed a safer path, out of…fear, I suppose.” Not for the first time since she began talking, Y/N’s eyes travel to Harry.  He still has the same stoic expression over his features, but his eyes…she can tell he’s hanging on every word she’s saying, and is analyzing every syllable.

“But Jo has never done that.” Y/N continues, shaking her gaze from Harry to settle on her best friend. “Even when she’s been afraid, she’s pushed forward, usually dragging me along with her.  And it’s a good thing she has, because I wouldn’t have half the stories I have now if not for her.” Y/N cracks a smile. “But she just—when Jo loves you, you know it. She never hesitates to tell anyone. She never worries about it being too much.  She has the biggest heart, and if you’re lucky—really lucky—she’ll keep you inside it. And I used to worry about her, because in my mind, that was dangerous.  Being so open was so terrifying to me, I was certain that it would backfire for Jo.  And then she met Laure.”

Although it’s a struggle, Y/N manages to train her eyes on Laure without letting them travel to Harry. “Laure and Jo may seem different on the surface, but they both share giant hearts. And their differences balance each other out so perfectly.  You two—I never really believed in soul mates until I saw the two of you together.” Y/N admits, biting down hard on her lip when she catches Harry shifting in his chair from the corner of her eye. “But the way you two know each other, and speak to each other, and love each other…anyone who sees it can’t help but know that you’re meant for each other.  That you’ve been meant for each other since the beginning of time. Every choice you made, every path you took—all of it led you two to each other, because that’s what was destined to happen.  You—” Y/N’s voice catches in her throat, and she takes a moment to compose herself before speaking again. “You’re going to be happy together, because you were meant to be.  It’s as simple as that.”

Y/N knows that she can’t say anything else without beginning to unravel, so she simply raises her champagne glass in the air, deciding it’s best to leave it at that. “To Jo and Laure.”

Above the echoes of the wedding guests, Y/N can hear Harry’s unmistakable voice.

…

“‘She’s like the wind…through my tree’…”

With her champagne glass raised to her lips, Y/N pensively watches as Jo and Laure turn to the music in each other’s arms, holding one another close as the voice of Patrick Swayze drifts through the speakers.  When the pair had originally told Y/N that they wanted to dance to a song from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack for their first dance, Y/N had laughed at the choice.  Now, however, as she watches Laure brush back a strand of hair from Jo’s face, her lips drifting down to whisper something in her new wife’s ear, Y/N has to admit that the song is the perfect choice for them.

“They look happy, don’t they?”

Y/N recognizes Harry’s voice, not needing to turn her head away from the couple on the dance floor to know that he’s moved from his chair three seats down.  Although the feeling of his warm breath on her neck is enough to make her shudder, as well as bring back memories of the nights they spent together, Y/N does her best to keep herself composed.

“They do.” She agrees after a moment, setting her fluted glass down on the table.  She keeps her fingers around the base, gently gliding them over the smooth crystal absentmindedly as she finally turns her head just enough to catch a sight of Harry.

He’s moved himself to Jo’s chair, with one hand braced against the table and one hand lightly settled on the back of Y/N’s seat.  He removed his suit jacket after his speech, but his waist coat is still buttoned properly, despite the sleeves of his dress shirt now being rolled to his elbows, exposing his tattoos.  His face is just as pensive as it’s been all day, but there’s some sort of change that Y/N can’t quite put a finger on.  There’s less of a guard in his emerald eyes, she thinks, before turning her attention back to the dance floor.

“Do you…” Harry licks his lips once, swiping a hand through his carefully styled curls before brushing over the back of his neck. “Would you like to dance?  With me?”

Y/N’s movements against the crystal flute pause.  That question was the last thing she expected him to ask. “I…” Clearing her throat, she keeps her eyes focused on the swaying of Jo and Laure. “I don’t know.”

A vibration on the back of Y/N’s chair lets her know that Harry’s tapping his fingers against it, the pattern familiar after watching him play the same rhythm on the steering wheel for five days. “You don’t have to, so—don’t feel like you have to say yes.  But I just…I don’t know.  I thought it would be nice.”

Yes, Y/N thinks wistfully, pursing her lips slightly at the nervous tone in Harry’s voice.  It would be nice.  To be wrapped in his arms again, his body close enough that she can feel the pounding of his heart beneath his formal clothing.  To feel his calloused hands within her own again, and resting on her waist, pulling her closer to himself with every passing moment…

“It…” Y/N glances down for a moment, fixing a crease in her dress with careful attentiveness. “It would be nice, yeah.  Until we try ripping each other’s throats out in the middle of the wedding.”

The joke is only half a joke, and Harry’s laugh is only half in amusement. “I didn’t really plan on that.”

“Well, it seems that things we don’t plan on keep happening, so…” As the music begins to fade out, Y/N finally turns her head to look at Harry straight on. “That’s not really a reassuring statement.”

A flicker of irritation flits through Harry’s eyes, a sight that’s become familiar in all her years of knowing him. “It was a simple question, Y/N.  Do you want to dance or not?”

As Y/N’s own irritation escalates, she knows that she should say no.  The best thing for her to do right now would be to distance herself from Harry, to get some space to clear her head, and to keep herself from making a scene.  Whatever there is to talk about—if there even is something they need to talk about—can be done at a later date, preferably not in the middle of a wedding.  And yet—

“Fine.” Y/N finished off her champagne glass, setting it back down on the table gingerly as a new song begins to drift through the speakers.  “Let’s go.”

Harry stands from his seat first, extending a hand to Y/N to help her up.  Although she’s wary, she takes it, the sensation of his cool rings against her own fingers growing more and more familiar with each moment she spends touching them.  

A few more couples have joined Jo and Laure on the dance floor now, and Y/N and Harry fit right in as he leads her to the center, keeping her hand held firmly in his own as his free hand finds her waist.  Y/N rests her own hand on his shoulder, gripping his sturdy frame carefully.

“‘Is love so fragile…and the heart so hollow’…”

The song, Y/N realizes, doing her best to focus on anything but the way Harry’s gaze is locked onto her with a frightening intensity, is one that she’s heard a few times over their road trip together.  The beat of the song is as familiar as a memory as the two of them sway to it, their motions careful and controlled.

“‘You’re saying I’m fragile; I try not to be…I search only for something I can’t see’…”

Harry’s hand on her waist, Y/N can’t help but notice, is so much more unsure than it was a few nights ago, when he pulled her close on top of the bar.  When he guided her movements in a way that was so much more frenzied than he’s doing now, and in a way that she misses.  She’s missed it, that breathless feeling.  The feeling of not knowing what’s coming next, and being enthralled by the unknown of it all.

“‘I need you to love me…I need you today…give to me your leather…take from me my lace’…”

The corner of Harry’s lips quirking up ever so slightly lets Y/N know that he’s listening just as intently to the lyrics as she is, and has the same events and memories floating through his head.  His hand begins to get braver, tightening his grasp on her as his hand begins to rub gently over her hip.

“Harry…” His name slips from Y/N’s lips involuntarily as she meets his jade eyes in question.  From the corner of her eye, she can see Laure and Jo watching the two of them as they dance, whispering into each other’s ears like girls gossiping in a school hallway. “What—?”

“Sh.” The sound is soft as it falls past Harry’s red lips, the crease between his brow slackening slightly as he sighs. “Just…don’t speak.  Not right now.”

“‘You in the moonlight…with your sleepy eyes…could you ever love a man like me’…”

The request is easy enough, but Y/N can’t make herself listen to it as she cocks her head to the side, the furrow of her own brow matching Harry’s. “Why?”

“‘And you were right…when I walked into your house…I knew I’d never want to leave’…”

The breath that Harry sucks in is mostly taken through his teeth, his lips pursing immediately after as he contemplates his answer. “I just want to…remember this moment. Properly remember it, before tonight ends, and we…”

“‘Sometimes I’m a strong man…sometimes cold and scared’…”

“…We go our separate ways.” Harry finally finishes, his eyes shifting to the floor as he pulls Y/N even closer to his chest.  Her elbow is completely bent to her body as her fingers drift further from his shoulder, moving closer to where the slope of his neck begins.

Although the explanation makes sense, the thought of going a separate way from Harry catches Y/N’s breath in her throat, so much so that she can barely choke out a reply. “Okay.” She manages, the lump in her throat growing with every passing second.

“‘Lovers forever face to face…my city your mountains…stay with me stay’…”

Eyes drifting closed of their own accord, Y/N leans her head forward, settling her cheek into the curve of Harry’s shoulder.  The smell of his cologne lingers in the fabric of his emerald waistcoat, intoxicating her further with every breath she takes.

“‘I need you to love me…I need you today’…”

Something warm and soft presses against the top of Y/N’s head, and she knows that it’s Harry’s own cheek resting against her.  A gentle sigh falls from his mouth, and Y/N feels every moment of it, from the rise and fall of his chest against hers to the breath of air that blows slowly from his lips.  She memorizes the motions, something for her to play in her head again later when she’s alone on a plane back to L.A., where her regular life is waiting for her. Where Brant is waiting for her.

“‘Give to me your leather…take from me my lace’…”

Y/N quickly lifts a finger to her eye, wiping away the moisture that’s pooling on her lash line before returning her grip to Harry’s shoulder. “If I said…” She hesitates, taking the time to choose her words carefully.  She needs to choose them carefully. “If I said that I loved every moment of the road trip…would you believe me?”

“‘Lovers forever face to face…my city your mountains…stay with me stay’…”

Harry squeezes her hand in his own, his entire body tightening in response to her words, and for a moment, Y/N fears that she’s overstepped.  An apology is already forming in her mouth, about to spill from her tongue, when Harry’s response cuts her off, his voice hesitant and anxious and so quiet that she almost can’t make out the words.

“If I said that I loved every moment I’ve ever spent with you, and not just these last five days, would you believe me?”

“‘I need you to love me…I need you today’…”

Y/N’s eyes snap open, her head quickly lifting from Harry’s shoulder to look at him with wide and astonished eyes.  Although the struggle is written clearly upon his face, he doesn’t shy his eyes away from hers, and instead holds her gaze as the voice of Stevie Nicks continues to croon over the speakers.

“‘Give to me your leather…take from me my lace’…”

As the music fades out, another song begins to fade in, increasing the tempo and causing the other couples around them to break apart and mill around the dance floor.  Only Y/N and Harry stay pressed together, stuck in a bubble of all their own, frozen in a moment of change, and unable to move forward or back in the same way they once had.

Over the fabric of her dress, Y/N can feel Harry’s thumb brushing against her hip, sending electrifying pulses throughout her body.  A loose curl has fallen from his styled hair into the path of his eyes, dusting over his eyelashes lightly as he blinks.  Did she believe him, she wonders?  Could she believe him?

“Can we…” Her mouth is dry when she tries to respond, and she licks her lips quickly, noticing how Harry’s eyes flicker to follow the motion. “Can we discuss this after the wedding? I just—I don’t want to take attention away from Jo and Laure—”

“Yeah.” Harry nods roughly, his hand squeezing hers one last time before he slowly drops it, stepping back from her with great care.  Y/N has to bite her tongue to stop herself from whining in protest.

“Yeah.” Harry repeats the word as he fixes his hair, his eyes drifting from hers. “We can discuss it later.”

…

Later, after Jo and Laure cut the cake, after each of them danced with their parents; later, after the staff members began to clear the plates from every table, after everyone waved goodbye to Jo and Laure as their car drove off to the honeymoon cottage snuggled further up the mountain side; later, after guests began to depart in their own cars; later, after Harry snagged a bottle of merlot from the kitchen, after Y/N slipped off her heels during the walk back to her cabin, the feeling of the ground beneath her feet oddly comforting; later, after Y/N opened the door, allowing Harry to step in first before following…

Later is each of them standing in the kitchen, still in their formal clothes, more disheveled than they were at the start of the day, as Y/N opens the cupboard and reaches for the two largest wine glasses she can find.

“Here.” She sets them down on the counter, allowing Harry to fill them to the brim with the crimson liquid. He pushes a nearly full glass towards her before taking the other in his hand, each of them bringing the glasses to their lips for a long drink.

Harry is nervous, and Y/N can tell.  She’s gotten a bit better at reading him over their journey together, and she can see the anxiety that’s running through him in his body language.  However, although the tapping of his fingers, the rubbing of his lips, and the crease between his brow is a major indication, she knows the real reason she’s aware of Harry’s nerves is because she’s hyper aware of her own.

“You, uh—” Harry clears his throat quietly, the action half reflex, half habit. “You looked really pretty today.  Beautiful, actually.”

A light flush heats Y/N’s cheeks, both from the wine and his compliment. “Thank you.” She murmurs, glancing down at her forest coloured dress. “I’m just glad the dress survived the car.”

A chuckle falls from Harry’s lips as he lifts his wine glass again. “Yeah.  A real miracle, huh?”

Y/N taps her fingers anxiously against the kitchen island, the coolness of the countertop a nice contrast to her heated skin. “Well, considering all the things that didn’t survive…” She trails off, watching as Harry’s face falls when the meaning of her words washes over him.

Still, Harry steels his shoulders, resolve painting itself over his pained features. “You mean us, yeah?” His tone is blunt and to the point. “After we…?”

“I just—what the fuck was that, Harry?” Y/N asks, her voice every bit as exasperated and exhausted as she feels. “I thought we—and then you—and now, saying you—you’ve always…?”

“I know I’ve been—I know I fucked up.” Harry drops his head, shame clear in his voice as he twists a ring around one of his fingers. “I know that, Y/N.  I’m so sorry—”

“I’m just so confused, Harry.  Really, I—” The words spill out of her now, faster than they ever have. “I know we were drunk when we fucked, but I…I liked it.  And the next morning felt so good, and so right, and then Brant called, and it was like…a switch flipped inside you.  And you called us a mistake.  So I just—I don’t understand how you could say that less than forty-eight hours ago, and then tell me you’ve always loved being around me tonight.”

Harry’s tongue swipes over his lips once before he inhales slowly, collecting and preparing himself for the conversation. “I’m sorry.” He says lowly, his accent thicker with remorse. “I didn’t want to—I felt like it was a mistake, but not because of anything you did.  It was because I knew that I had feelings for you, and I knew that you didn’t have feelings for me.”

The admission of his feelings was clear in his speech before he actually spoke the words, but the verbal acknowledgement of them still leaves an ache in Y/N’s chest as she refutes the statement. “You didn’t know that!” She says hotly, her hand tightening around her glass with every breath. “You wouldn’t let us talk about it, so how could you know?”

“Because Brant called!” While Harry’s voice doesn’t raise in volume, it does in intensity. “Brant called, and asked you to dinner, and you said yes!”

“What, did you want me to break things off with him right then and there?  Over the phone?” Y/N demands, an incredulous look on her face as she appraises Harry. “I’m not a bitch, Harry.  That would be heartless, and I’m not—I don’t want to hurt anyone. And maybe, maybe, it would be different if I felt anything for Brant, anything that was even a fraction of what I’ve felt for you, the good and the bad, but I don’t!”

Y/N’s words hang heavy in the air between them, flickering through the room like the dim light of the light fixture above them.  There’s just enough light, however, that she can watch as her words roll over Harry, sinking into every pore of his body until all the defiance rolls out of him.

“What—” His voice cracks with emotion, and he takes a moment to compose himself before he tries again. “What do you feel for me?”

Turning her eyes down to her wine, she raises the glass to her lips, draining more than half of it in one swift motion.  When she speaks again, her voice is slick with the liquor. “What does it matter?” She asks softly. “If you couldn’t believe it enough to not try to push me away the moment I let myself be vulnerable?”

“It wasn’t—your vulnerability wasn’t apparent to me.” Harry lifts the wine bottle automatically, refilling Y/N’s glass with merlot. “It was mine that scared me.  Brant called, and you spoke to him, and I felt like—it was like that first date all over again, when you gave your attention to that guy from your class.  I felt…” Staring into his own wine, Harry mulls over his words as if the liquor can reveal the perfect thing to say. “I felt like a jealous teenager again, like a proper idiot.  And I—you’ve always been so much more put together than me, and refined, and steady, and Brant clearly fits into your world neatly, so I—”

“Stop fucking doing that.” Y/N’s voice is as sharp as ice, as harsh as frostbite. “How many times can we prove to each other that we’re more than our projections of the last seven years?  How many times until it sticks?”

Harry studies Y/N’s face, his emerald eyes scanning over every slope and curve of her expression before he replies. “I didn’t think you felt anything for me.  I’m still not…sure…”

“Harry, I feel—I feel everything with you.” Y/N’s voice drops to a hushed whisper, as if what she’s admitting is top secret. “I feel like I can be myself.  I can be as stupid or serious as I need to be, and you’ll just…accept it.  The only person I’ve ever felt that with before is Jo.  No one else.  And it—it’s terrifying, but good, and then you pushed me away again, and that fucking hurt.  You have the ability to hurt me now, and the moment you got it, you did.”

“I didn’t know.” Harry mumbles the words, rubbing his hand over his flushed cheeks slowly. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.  If I’d known—”

“But you didn’t even ask. You can’t do that, okay?” When Y/N looks up at him, she can see the vulnerability on her face reflected in Harry’s eyes. “Please.  I don’t care if you get jealous, or angry, or—or anything else that’s as irritating as I know you can be—” A soft snort echoes from Harry. “Just be honest with me. Tell me.  Ask me.”

“What about…” Harry reaches across the kitchen island, taking Y/N’s hand in his own and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “What I said to you earlier?  I told you how I felt.   And I asked what you feel for me.  Can you be honest with me about that?”

“I can.” Y/N says carefully, pursing her lips for a moment. “I…I’m not sure if I’m ready to say something as…decisive as you do.  I’ve never really—I know that I feel…more intensely for you than I ever have for anyone else.  I just don’t know…how intense, or…I can’t describe it.”

“Maybe I can help.” Harry tugs gently on Y/N’s arm, bringing her around the kitchen island to his side of the room.  With his hand still holding hers, he leads her to the couch, sitting down and pulling her with him.  He’s mindful of the skirt of her dress, fixing it carefully so that it doesn’t get caught beneath her. “To me, love is…wanting to be near the other person. Do you want to be near me?”

Y/N nods softly. “I do.” She whispers into the darkness, the cabin quiet save for their breathing and the chirping of crickets outside.

“And what about…” Harry lifts a hand to caress her face, his calloused fingers gentle against her warm skin as he brushes over her cheekbone. “This?  Do you like being touched by me?”

Y/N’s skin burns beneath his touch. “I do.  A lot, actually.”

“And even when we were arguing…when we weren’t speaking to each other, and wouldn’t look at each other…” Harry worries his bottom lip between his teeth, the motion staining his lips an even darker pink than they were before. “Did you want me as badly as I wanted you?”

Harry’s other hand begins to rub Y/N’s thigh over her dress, still heating her skin even with the layers of fabric preventing actual contact.  Y/N’s eyelids flutter at the sensation. “Yes.” She breathes, leaning her head against the back of the couch. “I did.  I still do.”

“Obviously, I…I’d like it if you could know exactly how you feel, but…” Harry shrugs slightly, his hand drifting down to rest on the side of Y/N’s neck. “I know that it’s different for you.  You’re not used to it.  You don’t have to put a label on it, yeah?  I just want you to be comfortable with me.  As long as you’re mine, you can take as long as you need to express how you feel.”

Relief spreads through Y/N’s body at Harry’s words.  The freedom to take her time, to feel like she doesn’t need to have all the answers right away, is something that none of her past partners have ever offered her, and a familiar sensation begins to curl itself around Y/N’s core as Harry caresses her neck. “Yours?” She repeats slowly, her senses feeling like they’re processing through molasses. “Am I yours?”

“I’d like you to be.” The corner of Harry’s pink lip pulls up, but there’s an air of anxiety in his words. “Are you?”

The fabric of her dress swishes beneath Y/N as she pulls herself into Harry’s, managing to settle one knee of either side of him beneath the layers of tulle. “I am.” She murmurs, her hands wrapping themselves around his sturdy shoulders.  Their noses bump together as she moves closer, breath mingling in the small space between their lips. “I’ll be yours.”

Harry’s breath washes over her as he sighs gently, the fragrance of merlot and champagne settling on the back of her tongue. “Laure and Jo will be happy.”

A small laugh, mostly an exhale of breath more than anything else, sounds from Y/N as she twists the curls at the nape of Harry’s neck between her fingers. “Mmm.  Probably because they won’t have to break up any more fights.”

“No, no, we’ll still fight. It keeps things interesting.” Harry’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk, his nose brushing over Y/N’s once more as he tilts his head to the side. “We’ll just have a lot more fun when we make up with each other.”

Harry’s fingers find the bare expanse of Y/N’s back between the straps of her dress, gliding his fingertips over her warm skin.  The sensation of his cool touch against her sends a shiver up her spine, and she twists herself closer to him in return, but keeps the inch gap between their lips. There’s an anticipation between them, but also a stubbornness.  A refusal to be the first one to break.

“A lot more fun?” Y/N questions, massaging the tips of her fingers into Harry’s scalp.  She lets her painted nails scratch along him gently, just enough to make his eyelids flutter at the sensation. “What exactly do you mean?”

“I could tell you…” Harry purrs his words, pressing his head back into the palm of her hand. “Or I could show you.  It’s up to you.”

His words offer Y/N a choice.  Will she continue to push him?  Or will she give in?

When her hands retreat from his hair, Harry whines quietly, his half lidded eyes staring up at her in confusion.  Y/N braces herself against his shoulders as she carefully removes herself from his lap, picking up the fabric of her dress with one hand while grabbing the half empty bottle of wine with the other.

Harry watches as she takes a step backwards, her eyes glued to his as she appraises him.  As comfortable—and as attractive—as he looks on the couch with his emerald slack covered legs spread, sleeves half rolled up, chest heaving from their close contact, Y/N needs him somewhere else.

Harry’s tongue glides slowly over his parted lips as Y/N raises the bottle of wine to her mouth, taking a small sip before turning on her heel and walking to the staircase that leads up to the master bedroom of the cabin.  She only gets two steps up the stairs before she feels Harry’s hot breath on the back of her neck, his back and arms bracing against her as she climbs slowly.  With one hand still holding her dress out of her way, Y/N steps over the summit of the stairs, not waiting for Harry before she makes her way to the bedroom.

The bedroom itself has been tidied by the hotel staff since Y/N last saw it, and she’s never been more thankful for it; she and Jo had left it in a mess in their efforts to get ready that morning.  Instead, the staff have perfectly made the bed, complete with all the decorative pillows that Y/N had tossed onto the floor the night before, set fresh candles on the night tables and dresser, and left carefully rolled white towels on the edge of the bed.

A pair of tattooed arms wrap around Y/N’s waist, and a smile lights up her face as she falls back into Harry’s strong chest. “Your room is lovely.  Much nicer than those motels.” He rasps in her ear, teeth just barely grazing her lobe as he speaks. “Do you have a lighter for the candles?”

“You want to light candles?” Y/N raises an eyebrow as she drops her dress from her hand in order to trail her fingers over Harry’s wrist. “That’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

Pressing a light kiss to her neck, Harry shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so.” He murmurs. “We were so rushed last time.  I want to enjoy tonight.”

A smile creeps over Y/N’s face as she carefully unlaces Harry’s hands from her waist. “The lighter is in the bedside table, on the left.”

As Harry turns his attention to searching through the drawer, Y/N sets the wine down on the dresser, appraising her reflection in the mirror propped on top of it.  She begins to unpin the hair that had been carefully styled that morning, her hair only a fraction as put together as it had been. Setting the pins down on the wood surface in front of her, she takes her time taking off her earrings and bracelets, her eyes following Harry’s movements in the mirror.

The broad expanse of his back is still covered by his green waistcoat, rumpled as it stretches over the slope of his body.  With each movement, a new flicker of candlelight begins to glow in front of him, illuminating the silhouette of his body with soft flickers of orange and yellow.

“You’re a bit of a romantic, aren’t you?” The question slips from Y/N’s lips before she’s turned around completely to watch Harry’s actions without the aid of the mirror. “You like this sort of thing—the candles, the cabin in the forest, coming from a wedding…”

Harry’s body shakes as a laugh rolls through him, his side profile barely visible as he turns to light another candle next to the bed. “I suppose I am, yeah.  Are you not?”

Y/N gives half a shrug, tucking her now loose hair behind her ears as best she can. “I don’t know. I’ve never really considered myself one…never saw the point in grand gestures.  They’re not very realistic.”

“They don’t have to be realistic.  That’s why it’s a grand gesture.” Harry says easily, sauntering towards her with a dimpled grin on his face.  He reaches carefully behind Y/N, his thumb flicking the lighter to spark as he tilts the candle towards the flame. “And I’d hardly call candles a grand gesture. Haven’t you ever been properly romanced?”

Y/N tugs her bottom lip between her teeth as she contemplates the question. “Not…really? I mean, there’s been a few things, but nothing…I don’t know.  We were always busy—”

“You can always make time for someone if you want to.” Harry sets the lit candle back down on the dresser, repeating the motion with two more before setting the lighter down as well. “Hasn’t Brant ever—well, I know he hasn’t, actually—” A snort leaves Harry’s mouth as he begins to run his hands over Y/N’s bare shoulders, massaging the skin gently. “Haven’t any of your exes asked you what you wanted, or…done something spontaneous for you, like a surprise gift, or trip, or…?”

Harry trails off as he registers the expression on Y/N’s face, and feels the tensing of her shoulders beneath his hands. “Um, not really.” She says, doing her best to keep her tone light. “We were always very…scheduled.  A surprise trip wasn’t really feasible.”

The corner of Harry’s mouth tugs down into a frown, his hands continuing to work over the knots in Y/N’s shoulders as he turns her around.  He presses himself behind her, moving her hair to one side of her neck before pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her spine. “The more we speak, the more I see why you’re so guarded, love.” He murmurs, his tone carefully controlled. “You don’t need to be like that with me.  If you’re…afraid of what I’ll think, or…you know I tease you, but you’re always fine with me.  We can be serious—”

“No.” Y/N shakes her head adamantly, glancing at Harry over the curve of her own shoulder as she rests one hand over his own. “I don’t want to be serious.  I’m so sick of being serious.” She maneuvers Harry’s hand to her back as she speaks, guiding his fingers until they find the zipper of her dress. “I like that you tease me, and aren’t afraid to irritate me, and how you care enough to listen to what I say…”

The sound of her zipper slowly being tugged down pricks Y/N’s ears, and she watches Harry’s movement in the mirror.  There’s a clear look of concentration painted onto his expression as he helps remove her dress, but the moment he catches her eye, he locks into her gaze.  As he finishes pulling down the zipper, he keeps his emerald eyes glued to hers in the reflective surface, his stare becoming more and more hypnotic with every passing second.

“So what you’re saying is…” Harry’s lips brush against her ear as he leans closer to her, pressing a sensual kiss right over her pulse point. “You want me to romance you, but still annoy the shit out of you?”

Although it’s breathless, the sound that leaves Y/N’s mouth is unmistakably a laugh as Harry begins to trail kisses down her neck, slipping the strap of her dress down her shoulder. “Yes. It’s oddly endearing.”

“Oddly endearing is my middle name.” Harry’s laugh matches hers as his hands continue their task of removing her clothing.  Once Y/N’s straps are free of her shoulders, Harry helps her step out of the hunter green dress, carefully maneuvering the full skirt to the corner chair without creasing it.

“Wouldn’t want to ruin your pretty dress, now would—” Harry freezes mid sentence as he turns back around, his mouth falling slack as if seeing Y/N for the first time.

Despite having been naked and underneath his body less than forty eight hours ago, Y/N crosses her arms over her body.  The black teddy bodysuit she’d purchased to wear under her bridesmaid dress had, at the time of purchase, been more for practicality than anything.  The underwire of the strapless bra supported by the corseted middle was comfortable enough to keep her properly situated in her dress without a wardrobe malfunction, as well as serving as a barrier between Y/N’s sensitive skin and the stitched seams of the gown.  It’s not until this moment, with Harry staring at her with a hungry stupor in his eyes, does Y/N realize how racy the undergarment is.

“What?” She says after a moment, a note of uncertainty creeping into her voice. “I—it’s not like you haven’t seen me before.”

The nerves woven into her tone are enough to snap Harry from his thoughts. “This is…different.” He approaches her again, his steps slow and measured as he lays a hand on her lace covered side. “I was pissed last time I had you…didn’t get to properly take in the sight of you…” Harry scratches his nails over one of the mesh panels, his jade eyes darkening another shade once more.

“I didn’t get to enjoy you, either.  And yet you’re still fully clothed.” Y/N begins to fiddle with the buttons of Harry’s emerald waistcoat, working them open one by one as she forces herself to steady her breathing. “That’s not very fair, is it?”

“I suppose it’s not. Not fair at all.” Harry allows her to pull his waistcoat from his body, and it’s not until Y/N reaches the third button of his button down shirt that she realizes how much he’s enjoying her undressing him.

Every breath that Harry takes is ragged and shallow, his chest heaving with the effort to keep himself controlled as Y/N’s fingers trail down the exposed skin of his chest.  The sight of Harry’s throat tightening as her nails scrape his skin is too much for her to resist, and she quickly attaches her lips to the base of his neck as she pulls the now unbuttoned shirt from his body.

Swiping her tongue over the new mark at the base of his throat, Y/N manages to pull a moan from Harry, and her lips pull back into a small smile against his hot skin at the sound. “You sound really nice when you do that.” She murmurs, her hand trailing down to his belt as she speaks.

She can feel Harry swallow again, and when he replies, his voice is as low as she’s ever heard it. “Then you’ll have to make me do it more, won’t you, pet?” His eyes are blown darker with lust as he grips Y/N’s hips tight, pressing the pads of his fingers into her flesh. “Are you going to give me moans that are just as pretty?  Or am I going to have to pull them from your stubborn little mouth?”  

Y/N’s breath hitches in her chest at his dominant tone, her mouth falling open in a gasp against Harry’s collar bones.  She can feel the vibrations of his laugh in her lips, the tingle not unlike the burning she feels in her core, and Harry’s hand travels from her hips to her chin as the burning increases.

“Cat got your tongue, hm?” Harry grips Y/N’s chin between his thumb and forefinger as she fumbles with his belt, the action clumsier without her looking at her movements. “Don’t get all shy now, m’love.  It’s just me. We’ve been here before.”

Pulling his belt from his dress pants, Y/N tosses it to the side, her fingers resting on the warm skin of Harry’s abdomen. “I know.  It just feels different now, that’s all.  After everything we said, and…” Her eyes are unable to hold his as she drifts off, and she drops her gaze to his swallow tattoos as her cheeks redden.

A gentle tap on her chin brings her eyes back to meet Harry’s intense gaze. “I know it feels different, but that’s not bad.” Harry’s voice softens as his thumb begins to stroke over her skin, the motion slow and gentle. “It can be really good, actually. I told you, I can properly enjoy you now.  If you’ll let me, that is.  It’s up to you.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, dragging her teeth over her bottom lip as she reaches behind her back.  Her fingers quickly find the laces at the back of the garment, and she pulls the tie undone slowly, making sure to keep her eyes locked with Harry’s the entire time. “I want that.  I want you, Harry.  I want…all of you.”

She barely has her laces undone before Harry is grasping at her hips, pulling her body tight against his again for another desperate kiss.  His lips glide between hers smoothly, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle before he lets his teeth nip at her bottom lip, tugging at the flesh in a hungry way.  With her lingerie hanging loosely off her body, Harry easily yanks the material down her body, fully exposing Y/N’s breasts and stomach.  

The sight of her exposed skin is enough to grab Harry’s attention from the removal of clothing, and he leaves the lace bodysuit hanging at her hips as his kisses begin to travel down her jaw, her neck, her collar bones, to her breasts.  A breathless gasp falls from Y/N’s mouth as Harry’s open mouthed kisses become wetter and longer, until his hot mouth is wrapped around her stiff nipple.

“Harry—” Y/N tangles a hand in his already ruined curls, yanking hard at his hair as his teeth scrape against her sensitive skin. “God, be careful—”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Harry murmurs the phrase against her breast, barely pulling his mouth off enough to speak.  His eyes, although half lidded with lust, flicker up to her with a playful look. “Y’really want me to be careful, pet?  Or do you want me to devour you?”

His words send another flood of heat to her core, and it takes all of Y/N’s focus to keep herself standing upright. “Shut up.” She mutters, voice pitched higher than normal as she tugs on Harry’s hair again, half in need and half to solicit a groan from him.

The groan he emits, however, just adds more sensation to his teasing as the sound causes a vibration against her nipple, and Y/N barely manages to pull Harry away from her before her knees buckle.

Harry, however, wastes no time, and it’s only the moment after Y/N pulls him off of her that he’s kissing her again, teeth clacking against teeth as he backs her up towards the bed.  When the back of her legs hits the mattress, Y/N stumbles back, but Harry catches her in time to lower her gently to the bed.

There’s an unmistakable tenderness in the movement, and the action catches Y/N right in the throat. “Thought you weren’t being careful?” Despite her ribbing tone, Y/N’s voice is breathless as she settles back into the soft sheets. “Isn’t that what you just said, pet?”

A growl rips from the back of Harry’s throat as he cages himself over her shaking body, his mouth already reattached to her chest to leave a fresh trail of bruises from her sternum to her abdomen. “You’re such a bloody minx, y’know that?”

Although she opens her mouth to reply, the only sound that leaves Y/N’s lips is a gasp as Harry quickly lifts her hips to pull her teddy completely off, tossing it to the side without so much as a glance.  He leaves one last bite on her lower abdomen, just hard enough to leave an imprint of his mouth, before soothing the mark with a wet swipe of his tongue over the red skin.

“Knees up, minx.” Harry’s accent is thick, dripping from his voice like honey as his hands rub her lower calves, helping to push them up on the bed until Y/N’s legs are bent and spread open in a position he likes.  The way that Harry’s tongue swipes over his lips tells Y/N of his intentions right away, and she braces herself on her elbows on the bed before pulling back.

Harry, who had been leaving open mouthed kisses along Y/N’s knees, makes a disgruntled sound at the loss of contact. “Where do y’think you’re going?” He asks in frustration, pulling himself onto the bed and crawling after her.  Gripping one of her ankles, he spreads her open again, resuming the path his mouth had been making to her core a moment ago. “Trying to get away from me?”

A breathless laugh falls from Y/N’s mouth. “More like trying to get comfortable.  It’s been so long since I’ve had someone…” Despite Harry’s position between her legs, Y/N can’t bring herself to say the words.

“Had someone what? Eat your cunt?” Harry asks crudely, raising an eyebrow as he kisses her inner thigh.  His hot breath rolls over her core, causing Y/N to sigh as she relaxes back into the sheets. “That’s a tragedy, love.  Especially when you taste so sweet.  I remember from a few nights ago…I just barely got a taste when we…”

She should know better, Y/N thinks.  She should know, now that she knows Harry well enough, that something like this is coming, especially since it’s exactly what he did last time he was between her legs. Still, when his ringed index finger runs quickly between her folds, becoming coated in her wetness just for Harry to pop it into his mouth like a satisfied and smug ass, Y/N half jumps off the bed.

“Sensitive, are you?” Harry laughs around his finger, taking great care to lick off every bit of her wetness. “Just as sensitive as you are sweet.”

Y/N struggles to prop herself up on her elbows, doing her best to give him a scathing look. “You could’ve warned me, you—”

Her complaint is cut off abruptly by Harry licking over her slit with the flat of his tongue, collecting every drop of arousal before suctioning his lips over her clit. “What was that?” He mutters between his actions, flicking his tongue over Y/N’s clit as she grasps the sheets between her fingers. “I didn’t quite catch it, love.”

Falling back onto the pillows, Y/N allows her eyes to close for just a moment as she twists the cotton sheets between her hands. “Shut—shut up.” She moans, one hand releasing the sheets to latch onto Harry’s curls.  She tugs harshly, and the moan he releases sends shivers from her core into her spine.

Although Harry laughs against her, his smirk detectable against her folds as his tongue continues to work over her, a silence falls between them as he continues to eat her out. It shouldn’t be surprising, she manages to think as she tugs on his curly locks, that Harry is giving her the best oral she’s ever received.  Everything he does to her, from irritating her, making her laugh, to pleasuring her, is so intense that it only makes sense.

Harry’s tongue dips inside Y/N’s entrance, proving that thought to be true for what seems to be the millionth time that night.  Y/N can’t help but writhe on the sheets now, her body unable to contain the pleasure that’s building inside her core like never before.

When a gasping whine echoes from Y/N, a sound she’s never even heard herself make before, one of Harry’s hands moves from its position on her thigh, where he’s been holding her open so he can continue to work.  It travels up her leg to her pelvis, pressing flat on her lower abdomen and keeping her hips secure to the bed.

“You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you, pet?” Harry’s mouth is red, coated with her wetness when he glances at her.  He begins to rub circles on her abdomen, both soothing her and creating an ache deep inside her that she knows can only be satisfied by his cock. “You’re going to be a good girl and cum on my mouth, yeah?”

Y/N whimpers in response, barely managing to keep her eyes open as she nods desperately. “I-I need—your fingers, or—”

“No, no, pet, you don’t need that.” Harry assures her between long licks over her clit. “I’ll fill you later, but you’re going to cum from my mouth.  I know you can do it, love.  I know you can.”

“I—” Harry’s hand pressed to her abdomen is the only thing keeping Y/N from rutting her hips into the air in desperation. “Please, Harry, I—”

“You can do it.” Breath hot against her entrance, Harry dips his tongue within her again, moving it in and out slowly as his nose brushes against her sensitive bundle of nerves. “You—fuck—you’re so ready, Y/N, I know you can do it…just relax, pet…let go…”

Let go.  The command is so simple, and yet, isn’t that all Y/N’s ever wanted?  Isn’t that exactly what Harry has managed to allow her to do this entire trip?  No sooner does the thought cross her mind that Harry’s teeth graze over her clit, tweaking it ever so gently before pressing the flat of his tongue against it once more.  He gives a harsh suck, mouthing something she can’t understand, and then Y/N is tugging on his chestnut curls with a renewed desperation as she falls over the brink of pleasure.

“Harry, Harry, Harry…” His name is the only thing Y/N can repeat as she orgasms, her head falling back against the pillows while the waves of her pleasure wash over her.

Harry untangles her hand from the sheets, weaving his fingers through her own to give her something solid to hold onto as she loses herself in the sensations.  Although he keeps his mouth pressed to her, his actions are gentler, just licking the wetness that drips from her entrance as she rides out her orgasm.

It takes a few moment for the pleasure to recede enough that Y/N can become aware of her surroundings again. Chest heaving, she lolls her head to the side, her hand falling from Harry’s curls and onto the crumpled sheets.

Harry finally pulls away from her then, pulling himself from between her legs to the side of Y/N’s shaking body.  He licks his wet lips, savouring the last drops of her arousal before pressing softer kisses to her stomach, her sternum, her collar bones, until he reaches her lips.

“You alright, love?” Harry asks, voice quiet in the hum of the night as he settles beside her.  He brushes a sweaty strand of hair from her forehead, and the motion is so gentle that Y/N almost tears up. “Just take some deep breaths.”

“I—” Y/N sucks in another breath as Harry wraps an arm around her stomach. “I’m alright.  Just…trying to catch my breath.” She laughs nervously as her cheeks redden in a post-orgasm haze. “You’re, uh, you’re really good at that.”

Harry’s laugh is much more amused than hers. “Thank you.  I quite enjoy it, so it would be rather sad if I wasn’t good at it.”

“That’s true.” Y/N hums, rolling her head onto Harry’s shoulder.  He rubs small circles on her waist, and the action gives her something to focus on as she evens her breathing.

Harry sighs in satisfaction. “You know, if you had shagged Brant, I doubt his cunnilingus skills would have been as good as mine.” He says thoughtfully, as if he’s been pondering the idea for a while.

Y/N groans, bracing her hand against is muscled chest to shove him away. “Do not mention Brant while I’m lying next to you naked!  Christ, I shouldn’t have to say that!”

Harry laughs as he readjusts himself, pulling his body over hers while his lips work against her neck. “I’m sorry.  I won’t bring him up again, I swear.”

Huffing slightly, Y/N settles herself back into the sheets. “Good.”

“But for the record—”

“If you keep speaking, I’m not giving you a blowjob.” Y/N warns, shooting Harry a warning glance. “Are you prepared to give that up?”

The speed at which Harry’s face falls is almost comical.  His brow creases as his ruby lips pull down into a pout, his arms keeping himself suspended above Y/N as he relents. “Alright, I’m sorry.  Truly, I am.  I’ll stop.”

Y/N tugs her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes focus on Harry’s shining green irises. “Good, because I really want to blow you.”

The crude admission catches Harry by surprise, his eyebrows jumping up in shock as he rolls to the side. Propping himself up on his elbow, he rakes a hand through his messy curls as he answers with a measured tone. “You do?”

Y/N nods slowly, pushing herself up to sit on her knees as one of her hands begins to trace over the muscles of Harry’s chest. “I do.  Like you said…I didn’t get to last time.  And I bet you taste good.”

Harry sucks in a breath through his teeth as he gives a sharp nod. “Yeah.  Okay.  If you want to—”

“I do.” Y/N presses on Harry’s chest to push him back again, but this time she does it carefully, settling him back into the sheets like he did for her.  Moving so that she’s on her knees beside him, she gives him a quick kiss, only letting herself enjoy his slightly chapped lips against hers for a moment before she directs her attention to the bulge in his Calvin Klein boxers.

Y/N trails a finger over the line of hair leading to the waistband, feeling the muscles of Harry’s abdomen contract under her finger. “Sensitive, huh?” She asks quietly, mimicking what he had said to her before earlier.

Harry inhales deeply, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “Yeah.  So don’t tease me.”

“I’m not.  I’m just…warming you up.” Y/N continues the motion for a moment before her fingers drift to the elastic of his boxers.  She dips a finger beneath it, continuing to tease his abdomen before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his clothed bulge.

Harry’s hips jerk in reaction, his mouth falling open as he spits out a curse. “Bloody hell…”

“Feel good?” Y/N only lifts her mouth enough so that the soft murmur can be heard.  She can feel Harry’s cock twitching as her lips move over it, and the thought that she’s turning him on enough for him to twitch in his boxers sends a flood of heat between her thighs.

“Feels really good, yeah.” Harry’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and the effort it takes to keep his voice controlled is apparent on his face. “Keep going.”

Y/N hums in response, hooking her fingers into the waistband of his boxers and slowly pulling them down his legs as Harry lifts his hips.  She waits until his boxers are completely removed to turn her attention back to his cock, and the sight of it makes her mouth water.

It’s just as big as she remembers, with a slight curve along the length leading to the red and leaking head. Y/N can practically see the heat radiating off of it, she thinks, and when she wraps her hand around the base, her suspicions are confirmed.

The weak groan that falls from Harry’s cherry red lips is the only thing that keeps Y/N from getting completely distracted by admiring him.  She pumps him slowly a few times, and his length throbs in her hand as more blood floods to his pelvis.  Licking her lips once, Y/N leans down and gives a small kitten lick to the leaking tip, collecting the precum on her tongue.

A garbled moan sounds from Harry’s chest, and Y/N watches from the corner of her eye as one hand tucks into his own curls before the other gathers her hair within his fist. Although he’s holding her, he doesn’t force her down, or try to guide her motions.  He wants to see what she’s going to do of her own accord.

Y/N takes her time, licking slowly from the head of Harry’s cock to one of the pulsing veins that runs down his shaft.  She traces the line with the tip of her tongue, enjoying the sounds that the action pulls from Harry before taking the head of his cock between her lips. Mindful of her teeth, she sucks slowly, pushing herself further and further down his length until her nose is just touching his pelvis.

“That’s it, minx.” Harry moans his words, his voice breathless and strained as he cards his fingers through her hair.  His flushed chest is rising and falling prominently as Harry takes deep breath after deep breath. “Doing so well, aren’t you?”

The praise sends a wave of delight through Y/N, and she begins to bob her head faster, working what she can’t fit into her mouth with her hand.  Harry, she learns, is extremely vocal during sex, which isn’t exactly surprising now that she knows him better.  Still, his moans and whimpers are all the encouragement Y/N needs to keep her pace, slowing down only to tease him.  And she loves to tease him.

“Fuck—” A groan rips from Harry’s chest as Y/N slows her motions again, trailing her tongue up his length before focusing on his tip with great interest. “C’mon, darling, don’t be mean to me.  I wasn’t mean to you.”

“I’m just enjoying myself, Harry.” Y/N says innocently, batting her eyes at him as she kisses the head of his cock. “Don’t you want me to enjoy myself?”

The question is simple enough, but the sinful context makes Harry buck his hips into her hand. “Y’know I do, pet, but you’re torturing me…”

Y/N lifts her mouth from his length with a quiet pop as her strokes slow down. “Am I?”

“Fucking hell—” Another moan forces its way through Harry’s clenched teeth. “You won’t be laughing when I’m fucking you at the same pace you’re teasing me right now.”

Y/N’s movements stutter for the first time since she began. “What?”

“Didn’t think of that, did you, minx?  Thought you could tease me, and I wouldn’t get you back?” Although Harry’s words are domineering, he pants through them, throwing his head back against the pillow. “That—Christ—That’s not how it works.”

Speeding up her stroking of his length, Y/N leans over Harry’s body, sponging a kiss just at the corner of his lips. “You don’t mean that, Harry.  You need to fuck me just as badly as I need it.”

“You need it, do you?” Harry’s eyes snap open, lust completely clouding the jade green of his irises. “How badly?  Tell me.”

Y/N kisses him once more, pulling back the moment his tongue tries to pull her in for more.  She returns her mouth to the tip of his cock, letting her tongue flick over his slit before sucking on him again. “So badly, Harry. I’ve never felt as full as I did with you in me…”

“Oh fuck…” Harry’s words slip into drawn out moans as he tugs on his own hair, his hips stuttering up into her hand again. “Stop.”

The sudden command makes Y/N pause, and she pulls her mouth off of Harry’s length to stare up at him with wide eyes. “What?” Her hand pauses its motions, but stays wrapped loosely around his base. “Is—is everything okay?  Did I hurt you?”

The concern and fear in Y/N’s voice is enough to snap Harry out whatever headspace he had been slipping into. “No, pet, you didn’t hurt me.  I just need to be inside your tight cunt.  Can’t stand another moment without it, if I’m honest.”

The twitch of his cock in her hands confirms his words, and Y/N gives one last lick to its biggest vein before releasing him.  She keeps her mouth in use, however, by sponging kisses up Harry’s already marked chest, stopping only once she reaches his lips.

The kiss they share is passionate, with a rhythm finally established between the two of them as Harry slots his plump lips neatly between hers.  There’s no awkward turning of their heads, trying to find a way to slip a tongue into a mouth, and no teeth clicking together.  Already, each of them knows the best way to fit together, as if they were meant to all along.

“How do you—” Harry mutters the words against Y/N’s lips, his breath flowing into her own panting mouth with every gasp. “How do you want me, love?”

Y/N takes a moment to think, but only a moment. “On top.  I like…” Her cheeks flush with even more heat. “I like feeling you over me. And holding your hands…”

Harry raises a surprised brow at the confession she spills into his mouth. “My hands?”

Forehead still pressed against his, Y/N nods, picking up one of his hands and lacing his ringed fingers through her own. “Mhmm.  They’re strong, and…and they fit in mine so nicely.” Y/N glances at Harry through her lashes, shy despite having his cock in her mouth less than a minute ago.  It’s the intimacy, she realizes.  A sexual act is nothing new to her, but putting emotion behind it…

“They do fit together well, don’t they?” Harry agrees, squeezing her hand as he leans forward, pressing puckered lips to her forehead. “Alright, then.  Lie down for me.”

After Harry grabs a condom from Y/N’s bag and rolls it on, it takes a moment for the two of them to get positioned comfortably.  Y/N leans back on the rumpled sheets, fixing one of the pillows behind her head with Harry’s help.  Once he knows that she’s comfortable, Harry spreads Y/N’s legs again, situating himself between them with his arms propped up on either side of her body.

Although it’s the same position as the last time they had sex, Y/N can’t help but feel like it’s entirely different in every single aspect.  While the drunken need that she felt for Harry had been exciting, and while he had satisfied her incredibly, there’s something different about knowing that she has feelings for the man who’s so interested in pleasuring her, and that he has feelings for her in return.

Harry moves one hand to his length, rubbing the tip of it between Y/N’s soaked folds as his other hand grasps her own. “Are you ready?” He murmurs, his lips hovering just over her own.

Y/N nods quickly, squeezing his hand tightly. “Please, H.  I need it.”

The first thrust into her is slow.  Painstakingly slow.  Y/N knows that she should be appreciative of the restrain Harry has, and that she needs a moment to adjust to his size, but the way he stretches her makes her feel so complete that she can’t help but whine for more.

“Faster, Harry.” She pants, squeezing her eyes shut as he continues to enter her slick entrance. “I…”

“Sh, love.  Just spreading you open first, yeah?” The effort to control himself shows through the strain in his voice, but Harry still manages to sponge a quick kiss over her lips. “Besides…I warned you, didn’t I?  Said I’d tease you if you teased me…”

Y/N whines loudly as Harry finally bottoms out, his hips pressing flush to hers and bringing a kind of euphoric fullness that she’s never felt before. “Oh God…” She drags out her speech, her eyes barely managing to flutter open in time to catch the look on Harry’s face as he feels her walls squeeze him.

His brows are drawn together, an all too familiar crease appearing between them.  It’s a look of concentration, but the pull of his mouth and the quiet pants leaving it tell Y/N that it’s so much more than that. His pupils are blown out, dilated so much that she can barely see the green that she loves so much, and every few moments, Harry’s eyelids flutter, times perfectly with the contraction of Y/N’s pussy around his length.  

“Move, Harry.” Y/N begs, grasping his free hand and squeezing it along with his other hand. “Please.”

Her pleading sends a shiver down Harry’s spine, and he begins to thrust in and out of her slowly, letting her adjust to each pace before gradually increasing his movements. “Like that, pet?” He asks, voice low and thick with pleasure. “Is that what you wanted?”

A whine is all the answer he gets, as Y/N is so far gone past the point of being able to reply with a coherent sentence.  The only thing she can think of is how good it feels to have Harry fill her.  How the feeling of his cock inside her is simultaneously too much for her, the most content she’s ever felt, and not enough to satisfy the ache deep within her.  Every one of her senses is consumed with Harry—the touch of his skin to hers, at her pelvis, over her abdomen, his hands squeezing hers with desperation as he thrusts inside of her repeatedly.  The scent of his cologne mingled with his sweat, so hot and all consuming that the air feels thick with it.  The taste of that scent on the back of her tongue, along with his Merlot flavoured kisses that linger in her mouth.  The sight of him caged over her, his sweaty curls and flushed skin being all that she can see.  The sound of his moans, hot and low in her ear.

Everything is Harry. Had there every been a time where it wasn’t?

When Harry pulls his hands from Y/N’s, a small whimper stumbles out of her mouth, growing louder when his thrusts begin to slow and the ball of tension in her core begins to uncoil. “What—?” She begins, the question still half formed on her tongue when Harry moves his grip to her knees.

In one swift motion, Harry has her left knee over his shoulder, quickly repeating the movement with her right leg as he sponges stuttered kisses over the newly available skin.  “Need to be deeper.” He mutters, pressing a wet and breathless kiss to Y/N’s lips before sitting up for more leverage.  Weaving his fingers back through hers, Harry begins to thrust again, the head of his cock rubbing against new areas with every motion.

And oh.  It’s like an entirely new feeling.  The moans and whimpers are leaving Y/N’s mouth in a steady stream now, with any ability she had to filter her volume gone the moment Harry’s cock presses against her G-spot.

“Fuck, Harry, right there, baby—” Y/N releases one of his hands to throw her arm around his shoulder, digging her nails into the muscled skin as the words of pleasure slip past her lips. “That’s it, that’s so fucking good—”

“Yeah?” Harry grunts, bracing himself against the bed so that he can increase the speed of his movements. “You like how my cock fills you?”

Y/N nods desperately, the movement stuttered as she shakes from both her pleasure and the force of Harry driving his hips into her own. “Yeah, I—fuck, you’re going to make me cum…”

Harry’s face twists in concentration as he removes his braced hand from the bed and trails it down Y/N’s body, pausing just enough so that he can tweak her nipple as he passes by. He continues on until he reaches his destination, and settles his large thumb over her clit to rub fast and concise circles on the bundle of nerves.

“Oh—” Y/N’s back arches off the bed as her nails dig into the skin of Harry’s shoulder, as well as the back of his hand.  She barely manages to pant through her whimpered words. “Fuck, I’m going to cum—”

“Please, baby.” Harry pleads with her, his expression desperate as he stipples more kisses to Y/N’s knees, the only inches of skin that he can get his mouth on as he drives himself harder into her. “Need you to cum for me, I—fuck, minx, I need it more than you know.”

A sharp gasp falls from Y/N’s slick mouth as Harry hits her G-spot again, and the sharp repeated motion combined with his stimulation of her clit is enough to send her barrelling headfirst over the edge.  A desperate sound leaves her mouth, half moan, half whine, as the coil in Y/N’s core snaps, sending shockwaves of pleasure through every inch of her body.  

The reaction is almost instantaneous.  As her body shakes with pleasure, abdomen contracting and releasing over and over, Y/N feels Harry’s hips begin to stutter, his movement growing sloppier as the constriction of her core works Harry to an orgasm.

“Y/N—that’s it, pet, just—yes—” Harry’s words are more coherent than hers, but still just form a string of half put together phrases as he presses himself deep inside her, his eyes snapping shut as he spills inside the condom.  A choked sound works its way out of his throat, pulling from deep within his chest, and the pads of his rough fingers dig into her thighs as he grounds himself throughout his orgasm.  

Y/N’s shuddering climax finishes before Harry’s does, and all she can do is collapse back in the sheets, enjoying the feeling of his cock throbbing inside her one last time before he pulls out slowly to clean himself and throw away the condom.  An involuntary whine, quiet but audible, falls from her lips at the empty feeling that’s left behind, but it’s soon satiated after Harry returns to the bed, wrapping his shaking arms around her and pulling her tight into his chest.

His chest, like her own, is soaked in sweat, covered in dark bruises, and heaving from the aftermath of the orgasm he’s just finished, but it’s the only place Y/N wants to be.  She presses her ear into his skin, his racing heartbeat thumping beneath her head, and she focuses on the pounding pattern as she attempts to catch her breath.

Harry speaks first, clearing his throat before his wrecked voice fills her senses. “That was…that was so fucking good.  I was worried that it wouldn’t be as good as the last time, because we were more sober, but…”

“It was better, yeah. I know.” Y/N agrees, her voice filled with exhaustion and contentment as she kisses over a purple bruise forming on Harry’s collar bone. “I think…I think knowing how we feel made it better.”

“I agree.” Harry’s hands move over her back, his fingertips tracing invisible patterns onto her sweaty skin. “Passionate sex with someone you care for with candles lit…all after the wedding of your best friend…was that romantic enough for you?” There’s a teasing edge to his voice, just barely audible beneath the rasp.

A tired smile lifts the corners of Y/N’s swollen lips. “I suppose so.  But it’s not hard to be, in comparison to others…”

“Well, from now on, you’re going to be comparing to me, yeah?” Harry shifts his arms around her, tightening his grip before reaching for the crumpled sheet to pull it over their bodies. “This’ll be the marker, I suppose.  And I’ll have to work on raising the bar with everything I do for you.”

“What about what I’ll do for you?” Y/N just barely manages to raise her head off Harry’s chest enough to look at him. “This is a two way street, you know.  I have to romance you, too.”

“Mm.  True.” Harry hums as he resumes tracing patterns on Y/N’s skin. “How about you stop making fun of my taste in romantic movies?  I’d like to watch The Notebook without you poking fun at it.  If you’re laughing at all the emotional scenes, it makes me feel pathetic when I cry at them.”

Y/N laughs quietly as she rakes her fingers through Harry’s sweaty curls. “That’s asking too much from me. How about…I can still make fun of your taste in romantic movies, but I’ll hold you and comfort you when you cry at the really dumb scenes?”

An exhausted snort rolls through Harry’s chest, but there’s a degree of tenderness hidden in the sound. “I suppose that’s the best offer I’ll get, isn’t it?”

“You suppose right.” Y/N sighs contently, her eyes drifting shut as she settles herself into Harry’s chest.  The feeling of the subtle rise and fall of his muscles is enough to soothe her to sleep, and she’s just settling in for what she thinks may be the best sleep of her life when her head suddenly drops as Harry abruptly pulls away from her.

“Harry—” Y/N’s eyes snap open as she pulls herself into an upright position, any feeling of calm that she had a moment ago gone out the window. “What the fuck?”

A sheepish Harry smiles at her from the dresser. “We left the candles lit, love.” He says, blowing out the three lit candles on the wooden surface before walking to one of the bedside tables, where four more candles are lit. “It’s not safe.”

“No, you know what’s no safe?  Jerking your girlfriend from her sleep when she’s exhausted, and has to be up early tomorrow.” Y/N rolls her eyes as she flops back into the pillows.

Harry blows out the last candle before sliding back into the bed. “Would you rather I let the cabin burn down?  That wouldn’t be very romantic of me, now would it?”

Turning over on her side, Y/N faces the wall away from Harry. “You’re an asshole.”

“Don’t be mean.” Harry’s pout is tangible in the press of his lips to her bare shoulder. “We were having a moment!”

“Not anymore.”

“You don’t mean that.” Harry laughs as he wraps his arms around Y/N, pulling her to spoon into his chest. “Just go to sleep.  You’ll be less grumpy in the morning.”

“Fuck off.” Y/N mutters, but she allows herself to be held against Harry as his breathing once again soothes her to sleep.

…

“Are you sure I can’t drive?”

Harry laughs as he shuts the loaded trunk of the Impala, the sound echoing off the trees around them and scaring a few birds that had settled in the branches. “After that disaster in Nebraska?  No way.”

“Did you let her drive Stevie?” Laure asks, shock woven through her voice as her eyes flicker between Y/N and Harry. “Really?”

“No, I let her try to drive Stevie.  And then she stalled her, and lost all driving privileges forever.” Harry replies with a snort, shrugging his jacket onto his shoulders as his keys jangle in his hands. “So I’ll be driving the forty-two hours back to L.A.”

Y/N crosses her arms with an irritated sigh. “Whatever.  Don’t complain to me when you get stiff from being in one position for eight hours a day.”

As Harry rounds the back of the car, he shoots Y/N a smug grin, walking up behind her to wrap his warm arms around her waist. “But you’ll give me massages, won’t you, baby?  I’d really appreciate them…”

“Okay, this is still weird for me.” Jo says slowly, shaking her head as her eyes flicker between their intertwined pose and Laure, who looks equally as bemused. “A week ago, we had to practically beg Harry to drive you, Y/N, and now you’re…?”

“It was bound to happen, wasn’t it?” Harry asks, resting his chin on Y/N’s shoulder with a smirk. “No woman could last five days with me while resisting the Styles charm…”

Y/N shrugs his chin off her shoulder with a snort. “Right.” She scoffs as she unravels his hands from her waist. “The Styles charm.  We’ll pretend that’s a thing.”

Harry pouts as Y/N pulls away from him, his arms still outreached and trailing after her. “It is a thing!”

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N walks over to Jo, wrapping her arms around the girl tightly as the crisp morning air sends a shiver down her spine. “Congratulations, Jo.  Have fun on your honeymoon.”

Although Jo hugs her back with a smile, there’s something lingering under the sweet expression. “Thank you.” She speaks in her normal tone, but waits until her lips are right by Y/N’s ear to lower her voice. “The moment you arrive back in L.A., I expect a three hour phone call explaining how all of this happened.  Is that understood?”

“You’re so demanding. I would have thought you’d be more mature now that you’re married.” Y/N laughs as she pulls out of the hug, turning to Laure and giving her a tight squeeze before walking to the car.  She leans against the cool metal of the passenger side as Harry rounds around to the driver’s side, having said his goodbyes right after she did.

“I’m serious!  The last time we talked about Harry, you threatened to cut off his—”

Laure takes Jo’s hand, squeezing it hard as she bites her lip to keep from laughing. “Okay, darling, that’s enough.  Just be thankful they’re not arguing anymore, yeah?  Maybe we’ll finally be able to have a wine night that doesn’t end with someone flipping a charcuterie board.”

The memory of Laure and Jo’s four year anniversary party brings a sheepish smile to Y/N’s face, and she watches as the realization hits Jo, who gives a satisfied nod to Laure before the latter presses her lips to her cheek.

Harry, however, is less amused, and shoots a questioning glance at Y/N over the hood of the car. “Wait, when did you threaten to cut something of mine off?”

“Oh, it was just a joke, Harry.” Y/N waves off his concern as she opens the passenger door with a click. “It’s nothing you have to worry about, as long as you don’t piss me off too much.”

“Right.” Harry says slowly, climbing inside the car as Y/N does the same.  “I’ll do my best.”

Harry starts the car with an easy and practiced motion, shifting it into reverse and pulling away from the mountainside resort as the two of them give one last wave to Jo and Laure through the passenger window.  Once they’re back on the winding mountain road, Y/N grabs Harry’s phone from its usual spot in his cup holder, scrolling through his music library with interest.

“What do you feel like listening to?” She asks curiously, her eyes scanning over the now familiar titles indecisively. “Something fast?  Something mellow?”

Harry shifts the car into second gear before grabbing Y/N’s free hand, brushing his pink lips over the back of her knuckles in a gentle motion. “I don’t really care.” He says with a shrug, winding his fingers through her own before lowering their hands between their seats. “Anything you want.”

The comment of free reign causes Y/N’s eyes to widen in disbelief. “Really?” She asks incredulously, and when Harry gives a confirming nod, she quickly settles on “Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” leaning back in her seat as the familiar guitar riff fills the car.

From the corner of her eye, she watches Harry’s nose wrinkle as his eyebrows crease beneath his sunglasses. “Actually, I changed my mind.” He says lowly, swiping his thumb over her knuckles in a motion of apology. “Not this song.”

Y/N lets out a groan as she presses her head back into the head rest. “For fuck’s sake, H—”

“I’m not feeling it! It just doesn’t suit this time of day, or this scenery—”

“We have forty-two hours left in this trip, and you’re already pissing me off.  Do you want something to get cut off?” Yanking her hand from his own, she grabs his phone again and opens it with a harsh sigh. “Okay, what do you want to listen to?”

“I told you.” Harry taps his fingers against the steering wheel as he risks a glance at her, gauging if the irritation in her voice matches the irritation on her face. “Whatever you want to listen to.”

Y/N allows herself a quiet snort, but makes no other comment on the contradictory statement. “Fine.” She says shortly, scrolling through his songs for another moment before clicking on “Strangers”. “How’s that?”

Harry raises his now empty hand defensively before finding her own again, squeezing it gently. “Good, love.  It’s good.”

“Good.” Y/N gives a short sigh of relief, settling back into her seat again as a new guitar riff begins to sound through the car speakers.

The first verse of the song has barely finished when Harry clears his throat thickly, the corner of his lip just barely twitching up. “You know, actually—”

“Stop the car.”

[technowoah]

if you're taking asks for the prompts, can you do 11 and 17 from the angst list with george but have a fluffy ending? she/her pronouns pls

I Can Make It Right

SHSJS I HAVE SO MUCH ANGST IN MY INBOX YALL!

Thanks for the request babe! The way it came out was gender neutral i dont think I user she/her, but it still works trust me!

George x reader imagine (established)

11) "It's not important apparently"

17) "You already made me feel like shit so might as well finish me off"

⚠︎ angst with happy ending, unresolved issue but they're gonna fix it dont worry 😌, angry George, swearing

*** = flashback

Masterlist

You had stood infront of your bathroom mirror finishing up your makeup for the night. Your hair was already done and you had a nice outfit on, not to fancy and not too comfortable. While listening to a playlist George had made for you, you had put down the brushes you were using. It didnt really matter if you cleaned up your makeup that was littered all over the sink right now, but right now you were feeling good.

Today was your and George's 3rd year anniversary and you couldn't be happier about it. Today you two were going to dinner and doing something else which was supposed to be a surprise for you. It was a night on the town.

George and you met 4 years ago actually. You two started out as acquaintances, the slowly grew into friends and then one day he asked you to join him to dinner. At first you were oblivious to his actions, thinking he was just being a good friend, but turns out the more dates you two went on the more you caught on. He officially asked you to be his girlfriend 3 years ago today.

His friends keep on pressuring George to propose already, they think it's been long enough. The only thing close to marriage is a promise ring. He put the ring on your finger as a promise that one day he would marry you, everytime you doubt that he will propose you turn your attention to the cute ring on your finger.

You had turned off the bedroom lights and sat on your bed finally relaxing after struggling to find a decent enough outfit for tonight. George said that he was going to pick you up around 6:00 and now it is 5:47 so you had some time to spare.

You had found yourself scrolling through tiktok because you had nothing else better to do at this moment. It was a guilty pleasure of yours even though you and george both joked around about hating tiktok.

Time began to tick away so you had checked the clock on your phone which said 5:57 pm. You had grabbed shoes that you set up against your bed, slipped them on and grabbed all of your belongings for the night. You stationed yourself in the living room waiting till George came to the door.

Nervousness always came up before a date, it was the anticipation actually. You were excited and nervous about the date as you always were, but today for you was special. It was three years worth of beautiful love. You remembered the time he first said I love you too, it was just like it was yesterday.

***

"Hey y/n." George looked towards you. You both were sitting on a plaid, plush blanket with a brown woven basket ontop in between you two. It was just like the movies and that why you cringed because of how cheesy it was when George led you to it.

It was sweet, it was extremely sweet and you loved these dates that George always brung you too. You always felt special when you are sitting next to him.

You responded to George. "Yeah Gogy?" You laughed at the use of his nickname.

"Im trying to be serious right now and you call me Gogy." George smiled and shook his head. "Anyways, you know I love you, right?"

"Of course I do-"

"No I love you. I mean. I'm in love with you." George reached to rest his hand ontop of yours and repeated himself. "I'm in live with you y/n."

You wasted no time answering. "Im in love with you too."

***

6:03

George didnt show up yet, but there was no sweat. He was only 3 minutes late, maybe he ran into traffick. Your stomach was rumbling, but you didnt want to eat yet since you two we're planning to go to dinner. Patience is key, and it wasnt like he wasn't late before.

6:10

You started to get worried, it's been 10 minutes and still no sign of your boyfriend. You had gotton up several times to check outside of your door only to be met with no one. Your mind was jumping to conclusions about if he forgot your anniversary, but you shut those thoughts out for the time being.

6:19

Okay this is getting out of hand. You brung out our phone and began to text George, you couldn't believe that you had waited this long before texting the man.

Where are you? Ive been waiting for 29 minutes?!

[Sent: 6:20pm]

George what are you doing?

[Sent: 6:20pm]

You awaited his text message with your phone faced up on the coffee table infront of you. You didn't want to believe that George woukd forget, or overslept, but that was becoming truth the more minutes passed by with no call or text.

6:30

Calling him was useless, because he didn't answer. He didn't hang up on you he just wasn't picking up the phone, like he turned it off. You started to get worried if something happened to him, if he was in a situation where he couldn't call or text you. You wondered if he was safe at home and not out in the middle of the street.

In a flash all your worries subsided when your phone lit up with a notification.

ThisIsNotGeorgeNotFound is live:

Im Playing golf with my friends

That son of a bitch. Pissed off was an understatement, you were fuming. How could he end up streaming at home when you had constantly reminded him about this day, he knew damn well about this day too. How could he?

You ended up grabbing a jacket and your purse and ended up driving to George's place. It seemed like he was mocking you in a way, he knew you had notifications on for Twitch. You loved to support him and his career, but this was making a fool out of yourself.

Your hand tightly gripped the steering wheel as you tried not to run every red light you cane across. You finally came across George's home, you found a place to park and quickly got out of your car and sped walked your way to George's residence. Finally making up to George's door you knocked harshly on the door probably making more noise than what you intended too. You continuously banged on his door until you got fed up.

Remembering that George had given you a key to his house you dig through your purse to get your set of keys out anr unlock his door. You stomped inside his house and closed the door behind you.

"GEORGE! GEORGE!" You yelled through the house. You were being reckless and annoying, but you didnt care at this point you were fuming and needed to tell George how you feel.

You had made your way to George's recording room where he was talking to his friends on discord. George looked towards you in shock clearly not hearing the sounds you were making throughout his house.

"Y/N?!" George yelled and muted his microphone.

"What the hell are you doing?" You exclaimed back.

"Im streaming thats what Im doing!" George sassed back at you, not paying attention to his screen and the chat.

"Dont get smart with me. End the stream."

"What?! No!"

"You heard me, we need to talk." You crossed your arms across your chest. Your heart was beating too fast for your liking and you tried to calm yourself down, but George's comments were getting to you.

George was about to unmute himself and get back to the game. "No we dont-"

"GEORGE END THE FUCKING STREAM! This is embarrassing! Talk to me cause you have some explaining to do." You snapped at him.

A silence tell upon you two and he glared at you before turning to his stream and closing it out.

"Okay guys! Go watch the other boys streams I need to go now! Bye!" George quickly ended and turned off everything.

He turned around to you still sitting in his chair. "What? What do you want?"

"Do you know what today is?" You asked.

"April 30th." George answered bluntly.

"Thats all you have to say?" You asked in shock. "It's our anniversary dickhead!"

"I fucking know that." George said.

"You do? So why did you start streaming and we had dinner plans?!"

"I told you we were streaming! You weren't listening to me!" George stood up from his chair when he said that.

"When the fuck did you tell me this?!"

"A couple days ago! You didn't listen!"

"But you knew that was our anniversary! And we made dinnerr plans-"

George yelled over you. "A month ago! We made those plans a month ago so excuse me for forgetting!"

"So all these other years you remembered our anniversary and went out of your fucking way to cancel other plans around that date, but today you didnt because why?!" Tears were threatening to fall down you cheeks, but you wouldnt let him see you like that.

"Because I planned this already with the boys! And AGAIN you werent listening to me when I said that-"

"There were several other times that you could've told me too! But you didn't!" You sniffed trying to keep the frustrated tears inside.

"I already planned this and I cant go back on my promise-"

"But you can with me?!" You yelled and George stopped talking. He's just studying your face at this point and you hated this silence.

"Its not important apparently." You said while walking out of the recording room.

"You're being a bitch." He mumbled.

"Excuse me?! That is so disrespectful!" You spun around yelled at him.

"You already made me feel like shit so might as well finish me off." George said in a annoying tone.

"Yeah you should feel like shit! I feel like shit too so-!" You threw your hands up in exasperation and stormed out the room. You had made it to the door before George called out to you again.

"Y/n! Y/n! Please!"

"No! Just..." You paused before opening the door and ushering your way out. "Call me when you get your shit together.

You were currently curled up on your couch eating leftovers that you had in the refrigerator. That had satisfied your hunger for the night because the dinner was canceled that night. Your anger and sadness had subsided and you were only left with an unusual feeling in your heart. Your relationship felt incomplete, this fight felt incomplete. You didnt break up with him, but you were waiting for closure.

The TV was the only light in the room. It illuminated what it wanted to, you didnt care if it was too dark. Usually you would be cuddled up with George at this ungoldy hour, but you weren't and that made you tear up.

Your sadness was still there, your anger towards George turned into pity. You were sad about the actions he took, but somewhere in your heart you could forgive him. You could forgive and move on if he would come to you.

Speaking of, you had a knock on your door. You didn't have the strength to get up, but you did. Shuffling your way to the door you sluggishly opened it to find George standing there with his hands in his hoodie. The person you wanted to see, but at the same time you wanted to slam that door in his face.

"Hey." George spoke and you gave him a small smile, nothing more.

You turned around to find your seat back on the couch where you were comfortable, but also giving him a silent invitation to come inside. You had sat down on the couch not paying attention to George, but you knew he closed the door, took off his shoes by yours, and put his keys on the table by the door like he always did. It was like a routine to him.

George ended up awkwardly standing beside the couch as you ignored him.

"You know, if you didnt open the door I would've used my keys like you did." George tried to spark up a conversation, but you only hummed in response. You were scared that if you spoke, you would cry.

George ended up making his way to the couch sitting beside you and pulling you into his embrace. Your head was on his chest and you began to sob. You missed this it's only been a few hours, but you had felt that in those few hours you had lost everything. You continued to sob into his hoodie as he rubbed your back and shushed you, whispering sweet nothings into the air only for you to hear.

"Im here, and Im sorry. Im so fucking sorry that I did this to you and I only hope that you can forgive me." George said, his voice cracking a little when he said that. You kept crying.

That's what you wanted to hear all along, that's what you needed. You could forgive him in due time, you always will because you love him, you will always love him. You both can always make it right.

[wolf-and-bard]

The Geraskier divorce attorney AU of my dreams (hear me out):

-Geralt doesn't have regulars. Of course, he doesn't have regulars, he's a divorce attorney, a good one at that; sure sometimes there are clients that hire him twice because of mistakes or short-lived marriages, or he will have the odd person whose ex-partner he once helped, but in his ten-year-career, he's never once had a person come to him more than twice

-He has never married. The few long-term relationships he had didn't amount to anything in that regard and perhaps his job has spoiled the whole affair for him; there's never been a need either, he has his daughter Ciri, has his horse Roach which he rides on weekends, he couldn't be more content (or so he thinks)

(-Jaskier knows that many people would and do call him a whore, an adulterer, but he isn't. He is a romantic, a fall-in-lover, a dreamer, a free spirit. Which is why he gave himself the name 'Jaskier' (much more befitting of his character than Julian, what a common name) and why he tends to end up at the altar... more often than is strictly normative)

-The first time Jaskier enters Geralt's office, he acts as though it's the beginning of a Broadway show. He walks in, stands in the middle of the room and opens his arms wide. "Good day," he twitters and flashes Geralt the brightest grin. Geralt raises his eyebrows, but he isn't about to turn away a guy who looks affluent enough he can charge him a little extra. "Hello?" - "Julian Alfred Pankratz, call me Jaskier." Jaskier settles into the chair opposite Geralt's desk and puts his leather-clad feet up on them. Geralt pushes them off and asks: "Mr. Pankratz, what can I do for you?" - "Ah yes. My lover and muse, the Countess de Stael, has left me for another. The problem is that we got married just last month and I'm afraid she is going to bleed me dry if I don't have a proper attorney. You've been recommended to me by a friend. What do you say? Help out a fool?" What? Countess? Well. "Fine," Geralt says. "Let's talk fees."

-Jaskier is a lot and when the divorce is through and all aspects of their working relationship are settled, Geralt calls his babysitter - Yen's always happy to jump in on short notice - and invites his colleagues Lambert and Eskel to get drunk. Jaskier was annoying and exhausting, constantly babbling and flirting with Geralt and, god, he never wants to see him again.

-Of course, Geralt sees him again. By the time he does - half a year after the first time - Geralt has almost forgotten about Jaskier and his stupid Countess and how utterly drained that job left him. Jaskier sounds cheerful on the phone, not at all the common cadence for Geralt's clients, and comes into the office with two Macchiatos and a box of donuts; disgruntled, but unable to say no to sugar, Geralt allows for them to have the coffee over their conversation about Jaskier's upcoming divorce and it makes it more bearable. "So," Geralt says. "Give me a rough outline of the situation." Just to be prepared. Jaskier grins, wipes a sprinkle off his lips and takes a sip of coffee. "This is going to sound ridiculous, but hear me out. So about two months after you helped me last time, the Countess de Stael gave me a call..." Geralt wants to smack the man when he is done his well-embellished tale. Jaskier is obviously being used. But he's not here to judge, he's here to do his job and Jaskier pays well.

-The third is a woman called Molly. Geralt never gets to meet her, Jaskier never talks about her, it is as though she doesn't exist as more than a job to get done, a contract to fulfill. Aside from the topic of his soon to be ex-wife, Jaskier is more talkative than usual. He asks questions about Geralt's personal life, talks about his job - of course he's a broadway performer, 'star' doesn't quite apply - lingers. Geralt finds he... doesn't mind this time. It's nice to socialize for a bit, even if it is within the general bounds of his job. Jaskier makes him laugh somehow.

-"You should give me a discount," Jaskier jokes when he's there to leave a paycheck for Geralt for the fourth time (that Countess again, Geralt doesn't understand how they got married three times in a span of two years (in addition to that Molly woman)). "I don't give out discounts," Geralt replies. - "Why not? I'm a loyal customer, you should have a system for this." - "Mr. Pankratz, do you realize that you are the only person I know who goes through this many marriages in such a short amount of time?" - "Always knew I was special," Jaskier laughs and leaves with a small wave.

-"Okay, Geralt, what the hell?" Lambert asks, strutting in after Jaskier's gone with a bad temper written across his face. "Who is this man? And why does he keep coming back? You know I can hear his voice from my office. So if, like, you're having some sort of strange workplace affair, cut it the fuck out." -  "He's just an idiot who keeps getting married," Geralt says and waves Lambert away. He doesn't add that he kind of starts to miss the idiot.

-Priscilla is very nearly a different story, something Geralt only finds out after the fact. Jaskier breaks down before their court appointment, sobbing into Geralt's shoulder that he can't do it, he can't let her go, why doesn't she want him; by that point Geralt has known Jaskier for almost four years and the thought of him staying in a marriage for longer than half of one makes him queasy, gives him little bursts of pain against his breastbone; in truth, he's glad Priscilla's leaving Jaskier, antsy that it took almost a year for them to split up; she approaches him after the divorce is through, while Jaskier's in the courthouse bathroom crying his eyes out. "Tell him I'm sorry," Priscilla says and Geralt scowls at her. "Tell him I wouldn't have left him if I didn't have to. Tell him to wait for me." She leaves and Geralt doesn't even know why he should be the one to relay that message to Jaskier and so he doesn't. Jaskier never mentions her again.

-The sixth time is the Countess de Stael again and Geralt already prepared his case from the e-mail Jaskier sent ahead. The last three times all went in favour of the noblewoman who was able to protect her fortune, but Geralt thinks he can make a case for emotional manipulation and get Jaskier at least a sizable indemnity. "Mr. Pankratz," Geralt says when Jaskier comes for their appointment.  "Are you ever going to call me Jaskier?" Jaskier replies with a sigh and drops into the chair. His hair is tousled, there are deep half-moons under his eyes which look like he spent the whole night crying. Geralt's heart feels bruised, but he can't get involved dammit. "That would be inappropriate," he grunts. They get to work and Jaskier walks out with a broken-heart and a swollen bank account.

-"When will you give up on that woman?" Geralt asks when Jaskier saunters into his office one Friday, not three months after the last divorce. It's late afternoon and Geralt's ready for a weekend of watching Disney movies with Ciri, but Jaskier's always a sight for sore eyes these days. Not for the first time does Geralt consider asking him out for coffee, but the fact that he's only ever seeing Geralt because he's in need of a(nother) divorce somehow poses a barrier. "Now that is not very professional of you. To answer your question: right now. That's why I'm here." And for the first time with these two, it's Jaskier that wants the divorce, Jaskier that takes the initiative. He's only ever been the one to get dumped. Geralt's up all night thinking about that.

-For an entire year, Jaskier does not return and that annoys Geralt. He finds himself fretting, distracted, hoping Jaskier will turn up with another marriage to be dealt with, but he doesn't. The thought that Jaskier might have found someone he wants to stay with makes him physically ill. His code of conduct forbids him from using Jaskier's contact info though. Maybe this is for the best and anyway, Geralt is down to earth while Jaskier is... well, Jaskier. An emotional roller-coaster. He has his daughter and his horse and all is well. Only it isn't because Geralt managed to fall in love with Jaskier. (When Lambert and Eskel find out they laugh at him for two hours straight)

-Jaskier does turn up eventually, but not to get divorced again. He waits outside the building where Geralt works with two cups of coffee in hand and a tired smile. Geralt lets himself be led to a nearby bench, lets Jaskier speak. "I considered proposing to random strangers just to have another botched marriage for you to get me out of," Jaskier says. "But that would have been rather inconsiderate and there are easier ways to see you." - "I thought you might have found one that sticks," Geralt replies, tracing the rim of his coffee cup with a finger. "I might have."  Jaskier winks at Geralt and Geralt decides to throw caution to the wind. He leans over and kisses Jaskier's lips, then mutters, "I don't ever want to see you in my office again." - "And here I thought that your desk would make such a great hmph..." Geralt shuts him up with another kiss. It feels right.  

[erule]

The frat party | t.h.

Title: The frat party

Pairing: Frat boy!Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1859

Warnings: OC Elizabeth (Lizzie), fake dating/relationship trope, language, fluff

Summary: Tom and the reader met at a frat party, but a year later they broke up because of some reason. Now, rumor has it that the reader is dating one of Tom’s friends and he gets jealous.

A/N: Hello hello, enjoy the new chapter! Sorry for the waiting, guys, but I hope that I made it up to you. Just let me know your thoughts about this chapter!

If you wanna be tagged in my Tom Holland fics, just let me know in my ask box! You can also find me on AO3 and Wattpad. Feedback is always appreciated by a writer!

Taglist: @webmeupspiderdaddy​

Read chapter 1 here!

Main Masterlist

Tom Holland Masterlist

Peter Parker Masterlist

Story under the cut!

Chapter 2

Rumor has it

“So, guys, rumor has it that…”

“Stop!” Tom exclaimed, interrupting Harrison. “Everytime you say that sentence, something hurts me and I really wanna miss that opportunity today. I’m already angry at myself because of what happened with Oliver,” he said, lighting a cigarette while sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Smoking makes you even more annoying than usual, Tom,” Harrison said. Tom sighed.

“Oliver makes me like that. He’s still flirting with Y/N, even if he should know by now that she’s mine. I mean, she will be mine again. My girl,” he said, with a soft smile on his face. “Ouch”.

“Still hurts?”

“Yeah, a bit,” Tom answered, brushing his bottom lip where Oliver hurt him.

Jacob suddenly opened the door, a big smile on his face. Tom and Harrison looked at him with suspicion.

“What happened, Jacob?” Harrison asked.

“So, rumor has it that…”

“Oh, fuck me,” Tom sighed, laying his back on the bed. Harrison chuckled.

“I was saying: rumor has it, that there will be a huge frat party at the end of the year to celebrate the older students like us, that will graduate soon and Lizzie asked me to come with her,” he said, happily.

“Lizzie as in Elizabeth? Y/N’s friend?” Tom asked and Jacob nodded.

“She looked a lot like Y/N last year, I thought they were twins. Now she has changed her hair color, at least,” Harrison said.

“The most important things is that she likes me!” Jacob exclaimed. “Be happy for me just once, guys. I deserve it”.

“You’re right Jacob, you do,” Tom said, giving him a pat on his back.

Somebody knocked at the door. Harrison went to open it and found someone who Tom would have been very glad to see. In fact, he jumped from the bed instantly, throwing the unlit cigarette in the trash.

“Hey darling, what are you doing here?”

You sighed, looking at him.

“I have an unseemly proposal for you and you can’t say no”.

“A fake relationship?”

After Tom had sent his friends away, you sat down on his bed in front of him to discuss about the details.

“Look, I didn’t want to do this, but Oliver’s still flirting with me and I have to cut this. He would leave me alone only if he’d see that we’re back together, I’m sure of it. Also, you literally proposed this to me last time, so… Wow, that’s really unpleasant. It must hurt,” you said suddenly, staring at his lip. You moved a hand to reach the wound, but then you stopped. You gazed at him. “Can I?”

Tom nodded. So you brushed it with your fingertip, thinking about how much it costed him to protect you even after your break up. How much it hurt. You swallowed, melancholy threatening to eat you alive. He had closed his eyes for a second. A very long second. Like you at the party. Maybe standing this close to him wasn’t a good idea.

“Y/N…”

“So, what do you think?” You asked, withdrawing your arm.

Tom shrugged.

“I agree,” he said.

“Just like that? You don’t want something in return?”

“As you said, I suggested it in the first place, so I totally agree with it,” he said. Then, he got dangerously close to you, so close that you thought he wanted to kiss you on the lips – and, in fact, he smirked –, but he didn’t. He left you a light kiss on your cheek instead, before whispering these words in your ear: “I’m gonna get you back, Y/N. One way or another,”

You ran away from there like a wolf was chasing you to eat you.

***

You were looking at Zendaya, hands clasped in prayer, begging her to help you. You and Tom had decided to go out as in a date in order to convince Oliver that the two of you were, in fact, back together. Lizzie was already somewhere with Jacob, so you had just Zendaya left to pick the outfit for the evening. She didn’t like that kind of stuff, mostly because because didn’t agree to your plan, but you were too desperate to let it go. She would have helped you at the end. Well, that was your hope anyway.

“Please, Z,” you basically begged her.

She rolled her eyes, arms crossed, but then she nodded. You tried to give her a kiss, but she moved away.

“You know what? This will be a dumb outfit for a dumb plan,” she said, while opening your closet.

“Z, I just…”

“You know why? Because the second, the second, Tom will try to kiss you, you’ll fall for it. Again”.

“I thought that he was your friend too,” you said, showing her a dress, but she shaked her head.

“He is, but I don’t know if he’s the right pick for you. I don’t condone what you did to him,” she said and you gulped, “but he’s not exactly an angel either. He ruined a lot of relationships even before he met you. That’s who he is,” she continued.

You sat on the edge of the bed, while she was looking for something that you could wear.

“Maybe he’s not like that anymore. People grow up, Z,” you said.

“Oh, yeah? Have you?” She asked you, turning around. You swallowed. “That’s what I thought. Don’t come to me when he’ll screw things up again. Or when you will” she stated, then she showed you the outfit. You looked at it with a sparkle in your eyes. “We have found it”.

You showered, wore the outfit and prepared in less than an hour. You were trying to wear your shoes, when Zendaya opened the door to Tom. He was wearing a white T-shirt with a red flannel on it and some ripped jeans. You waved at him, while grabbing your bag. You told Zendaya not to wait for you and then you smiled at Tom, ready to go.

“Are you still smoking?”

“Sometimes,” he answered. “Where’s Oliver tonight?”

“He posted on Instagram an hour ago, so I assume that he’s still with Jacob and Lizzie somewhere in the campus,” you said, looking at your phone.

“Well, so we have some time,” he said with a smirk. He took your hand and you felt shivers running down your spine.

“What are you doing, Tom?”

“Come on darling, if we have to pretend, then we have to make it believable. What’s worse than seeing the girl you like having fun with someone else?” He asked and you noticed a lightning passing through his eyes.

Then, without even realizing it, you found yourself running with Tom all over the campus. That alone made you laugh, because you felt like a little girl. If you had to describe Tom in one word, you would have said he was light. Not because it was always sunny, but because of the way it managed to get you out of the darkness you found yourself in sometimes. He pulled you out of the darkness and made you feel alive, everytime. He was the only one who could do it. Sometimes you wondered why you gave up on him, in fact. Because you had given up on the light, you, who often felt like a full moon in a dark and gloomy sky. He brought you in a part of the campus that seemed a minigolf. Maybe he and his friends had created it, since Tom loved playing golf very much. He gave you a golf club, urging you to try your hand at it.

“I’m not a good player, Tom,” you said, shaking your head.

“I’m still chasing you, right? So I wouldn’t say so,” he replied, leaving you speechless. “I was joking. Come on, let me show you,” he said.

It seemed so cliché, letting him touch you, teaching you to play, celebrate with him every victory of yours… You could have had it, a year ago. That. Tom. All yours. But you gave up on everything. It was your biggest mistake.

“Tom, it’s time. I think that we should go back. Oliver and the others could be coming to their rooms right now,” you said. Tom seemed a bit sad at your words, but only for a moment. It was hard to see an emotion flash on his face.

He nodded.

“Whatever you want, darling,” he said.

You wanted to say something else, but you closed your mouth before you could actually do it. The two of you came back and fortunately, you found Oliver with Lizzie and Jacob still hanging out. You caught Jacob attention and waved him, while Tom was smooth to hold your hand. You turned around in order to tell him something, but he was quick. One second later, her was kissing you and there was something in your stomach, like a knot, that slowly loosened its grip. You felt a weird sensation, a sort of relief. You could feel Oliver’s eyes trying to burn Tom’s skin, Jacob saying Let’s go and your blood boiling in your veins like lava.

When Tom broke the kiss, he ran his thumb over your lips, looking at them with a sort of melancholy. Fake relationships are a beautiful dream, but waking up is from them a nightmare.

“Tom…”

“I think that he got the message,” he said, taking a step back from you. He lit a cigarette, clenching his jaw.

“This is not a joke to me, Tom. It’s not something I’m doing just for him,” you said.

“No? Then explain what all of this is to me, darling,” he replied, throwing out some smoke like it was his anger.

“Yeah,” you said, but then you bit your inner cheek.

“What’s stopping you, Y/N? What are you hiding from me?” He asked, scanning your face. “Are you ashamed of something? Maybe it’s what you did, you know, the whole cheatingthing… or maybe it’s admitting that you still have feelings for me that brings you shame”.

“No, I’m not ashamed,” you said, determined.

“Then talk to me, darling. What’s happening?”

“I can’t tell you, Tom, I’m sorry,” you said, looking around. It was like you needed some air, even if you were outside. That secret didn’t make you breath anymore.

“What? That you liked throwing all away? That he didn’t make you feel like I did? That you weren’t done playing with me? Just tell me something, Y/N, anything would be better than this fucking silence,” he said, raising his voice.

“I didn’t cheat on you!” You yelled. Tom’s eyes grew wide. Everything around you two seemed now quiet, motionless. You covered your mouth with your hands, maybe to erase what you just said. “Fuck”.

Tom stared at you for a good couple of minutes. He looked at your tired and tearful eyes, perhaps thinking whether to believe you or not, then he did something unexpected: he put out his cigarette. He walked over to you, raking your face in his hands and looked into your eyes, this time more intensely. He looked tired and incredibly older.

“Now you’re gonna tell me everything, darling”.

[damselofblueroses]

Bambi, Ch. 2, Ghost

You are my Bambi, girl, I am your candy, tell me what are you waiting for?

Summary: As an archaeologist who works on the Ancient Greece, you were on the verge of excavations’ session. While you have been preparing your team, you learned that your institute decided on your team has to work with another team as they wanted the outcome as a collaboration. The head of other team was your biggest rival, a scumbag in your eyes: Byun Baekhyun.

You two were supposed to work together for three months, in a Greek Island, Chios.

Could you manage to not kill Byun Baekhyun for three months?

Chapter Summary: Byun Baekhyun and the Reader remember the day they spent in UN Village together while they are heading to Chios. (Guys, this chapter, which is dedicated to the beginning of their relationship, is going to be two parts, otherwise it is going to be more than 20k lol)

Word Count: 11k

Content: AU, heavily Greek mythology, enemies to lovers.

Warnings: Well, the story contains NSFW/Smut, please minors do not continue.

Note: This story will be 7 or 8 chapters if I will not change my mind in the meantime. It is inspired by my major; however, I do not have a complete knowledge on archaeology, I am a historian. If I will make a technical mistake, please let me know. I am willing to receive any kind of feedback; you are more than welcomed to drop a message.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2: Ghost

5 years ago, Hannam-dong

Even if I want you so much it drives me crazy

You ghost

Even if I want and call for you all night long

You came to me and left without a word

You ghost, you ghost

You want to go crazy all night, you plead

You ghost

You disappeared again without a trace

“What type of sadistic and sick person could say that we have to work here?” you cursed between your teeth, you jaw clenched because of pure anger. “How do they expect us to do our job in the middle of fucking super-ultra-rich people?”

“Get used to it.” Junmyeon flinched your forehead, but his frustration was oblivious, even though he was doing definitely better than you. “Where is Baekhyun?”

“I do not know.” you recklessly pointed to the expensive cars on the road. “Maybe he was looking for a sugar mommy.”

“As your sunbae,” Minseok hit you. “I would like to remind you to hold on your manners.”

“Someone has to give a speech on manners to him.” your eyebrows knitted together. “Not to me.”

“Both of you,” Kyungsoo nonchalantly spoke. “need a really good beaten session, since both of you have no idea on how to behave.”

You threw the book you were holding to Kyungsoo, but he was too quick and easily saved himself from your unexpected attack.

“I am here, right?” you hissed. “Where the heck is that bastard? He always disappears when it comes to work, why do you hold me in the same esteem with him?”

“Because you are definitely a copy of Baekhyun.” Chanyeol laughed at your god-fucking-damn-it-so-horrible face expression. “Let’s face with the fact, Indy. Everyone knows that Baekhyun is a disciplined student, just as you are, badmouthed, just as you are.”

“Are you talking about me?” Baekhyun popped out of nowhere. “I heard you are praising me less than the way I deserve.”

Your face could be described as disgusted, but this would be the kindest way of telling how your appearance was. Actually, you wanted to punch his narcissistic self-perspective, to shake his cage in order to give him the lesson he deserved, but you did not want to be scolded by Junmyeon again. You just walked away from him, needing to put a safe distance between yourself and Baekhyun.

God, if you could run away to space, you would do it in order to not infuse with the same air with Baekhyun.

You disliked him, you disliked the way of his well-being, you disliked his velvety voice, his lame jokes, his sharp remarks, you disliked everything about Byun Baekhyun.

And you hated yourself because of finding him very handsome. Sometimes, you caught yourself, staring at Baekhyun, forgetting how to breath properly. His face was like a gift of God himself; his body ratio made you to say oh-my-fucking-god.

Thank God, he had the most annoying character, because if he had a good personality, you knew that you would fall in love over the heels with him.

“What kind of idiot chained us here?” Baekhyun asked to Junmyeon. “Fuck’s sake, what the heck we are going to here? Digging beneath the Richie riches’ villas?”

Chanyeol bite his lips before looking at you, silently reminding your own words and his remarks about being very same with Baekhyun. You did not back off, staring at Chanyeol with all frustration went through your veins, causing Chanyeol to laugh. Baekhyun hit his head, then walked towards Junmyeon to take his own tool bag.

You hated him for this, too. He was acting like he was a superior, like he was better than any of you, and what got your nerves badly was no one scold him as they would scold you if you would do the same things.

“Yeah, I am like this scumbag who does not carry even his own stuff, huh?” you literally sizzled between your teeth, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo heard your annoyed voice, but they preferred to keep their silence. Your hate was not a secret for the team, everyone was aware of the fact that putting you and Baekhyun was a dangerous decision since he also loathed you.

But to your dismays, you were the brightest students Sejong could always play on.

“Seriously what we are going to do?” Baekhyun repeated his question because he really did not have a single clue.

“Didn’t you read the mail Sejong sent us?” Jongdae asked him, raising one eyebrow. Baekhyun shrugged his shoulder, you bit your lower lip in order keep your frustration under your control. What a bastard!

“We have to visit UN Village, there are seven neighbourhood where we have to go and collect the permissions of the residents.” Junmyeon run his hand through his hair. He was already on the verge of cracking since he was the one who had to deal with a lot of capricious upper-class members in order to complete this fucking task. He wished nothing but changing his path, he started to think like the field was not his cup of tea, but before resigning from leadership, he wanted to find a good candidate who could lead the team.

He wanted you to be that leader. You and Baekhyun. Heretofore, Junmyeon laid his eyes on both of you and your abilities persuaded him to nominate your names when he could propose an election. He did not want to be a fieldperson, he wished to stay in his office, but at the same time, he could not inherit his legacy, Godfuckingdamnit Junmyeon’s did his best in order to engrave his name as one of the most successful captains, to anyone but the best. Yet, Junmyeon had no idea how to put you in good terms, since you were like a cat and dog, and Chanyeol, that giant idiot, used every opportunity to fan the flames, even that silent Kyungsoo enjoyed watching intangible scuffles between you and Baekhyun.

Junmyeon has been sensing that the team was becoming aware of the situation and camping as two different poles. Jongdae, Shinhye and Minseok were setting off closer to you while Chanyeol, Kyungsoo and the newbie, Jongin have been shifting to Baekhyun’s side. Damn, Junmyeon could not let it to be happen. He needed all of you under the same umbrella, especially you and Baekhyun had to stay together. He was seeing a great potential of you, if you could combine your powers, you were going to be the perfect team. Period.

“Let’s split into teams.” his eyes wandered around all of you. “We are eight, if we can divide ourselves into four teams, we will finish the job easier and quicker.”

“Yeah, you are right.” Kyungsoo approved. “I am going to take Chanyeol.”

“Are you my superior, dumbass?” Chanyeol hit his shoulder, but he was laughing. “I am with Kyungsoo.”

“Good.” Junmyeon inhaled. “Shinhye, you are with Jongdae.”

You automatically stirred next to Minseok, however you shuttered after hearing Junmyeon’s next orders.

“Indy, you and Baekhyun are together, Minseok, let’s go.”

“What?!” you immediately stopped and hissed at Junmyeon. “Am I with who?”

Jongdae realized the storm before seeing the clouds, clever as always, he disappeared while dragging Shinhye with him. You even did not notice, but Chanyeol’s smile widened, Kyungsoo smirked, and they rushed to their own direction.

Only four of you were standing on the pavement, you were throwing daggers to Junmyeon with your eyes. Baekhyun was nonchalantly looking at Junmyeon, while Minseok could not find a way to break the tension.

Junmyeon was cool as a cucumber.

“You are with Baekhyun.” he repeated his words, sounding like he was condemning you with execution. “What? Do you have a rejection?”

“Yes!” you exploded without thinking. “Why shou-

“Believe me,” Baekhyun interrupted your words, he was indifferent to your frustration. “I did not beg for being in the same team with you.”

“Did I claim that?” you swiftly turned on your tiptoes. “Did I say you are eager to be with me?”

“It would be the greatest joke you could make.” Baekhyun winked to you. “But you are not so into the entertainment, right?”

“Baekhyun,” Minseok noisily cleared his throat. “I am not sur-

“What do you know about me?” you heard your own voice. “This is why we cannot work together, you always make assumptions out of your ass, instead I work as organized, with the facts and tangible proofs.”

“What do you know about me?” Baekhyun coldly smiled at you, you could not describe its impacts on you, that smile had you wanting to punch him at the same time ignited some fires in your lower stomach. “We barely talk, have you been watching me all the time?”

“You wish.” you took a deep breath. “You are not worth my time.”

“Oh,” his eyes glimmered with a menacing luminescence. “I am deeply wounded.”

“If you are done,” Junmyeon raised his hands to the air. “We have to work.”

“Jun-

“Young lady,” Baekhyun barged on. “They did not teach you this, so it’s up to me but we are not in kindergarten anymore.”

You had to admit, no one could get your nerves till now like Baekhyun did.

You had to admit, you hated being called as a kid. Junmyeon’s eyes blown up when Baekhyun labelled you as a kid, before he could open his mouth, you stared at Baekhyun.

“I can see why we could be a team.” you took the directional instructions from Junmyeon’s hand. “A kindergarten kid has to take care of a cry baby while the adults have to work.”

Baekhyun’s eyebrows furrowed, but you wholly ignored his visible annoyance, and started to walk. Junmyeon was looking at your back with a little bit concerned face, but he knew that he did what he had to do.

You were going to scold Junmyeon in the following hours of the day, however, now your job was teaching a couple of lessons on manners to this scumbag who has been walking beside you.

You spent the first hour in a total silence, talking only if the occasion called for it. The tension between you and Baekhyun was solid, someone could cut it with a knife without any problem. Baekhyun was bored to death, he never plan to have a day like this, he wanted to enjoy everything he did, he thought he could be with Chanyeol or Kyungsoo, having fun to death.

Instead, he was trapped with you.

The only girl he loathed to the bits.

He could not endure to hear your voice, even though you talked with the residents very kindly and respectfully. He had to admit that you were doing a good job, but it did not change anything he felt for you. He had been cursing Junmyeon since he put you two in the same task, however, he knew that if Junmyeon wanted something from Baekhyun, he would do it without question. Baekhyun could be many things, but he was loyal to his friends, and Junmyeon had a special place in his heart.

Also, behind the curtains of his hate, he could see why Junmyeon gave you to him. Although you were an abominable bitch, an obnoxious creature, a walking blasphemy, and a hate crime, Baekhyun did not think you could be an offspring of a lovely or healthy relationship, he was sure your parents were diabolical beasts, to his disappointment, you were reallyclever.

He wished you could be more reliable person, so he could work with you.

Baekhyun did not like to confess, yet he was aware of the fact that he desperately needed his own Evelyn O’Connor. Someone who could play the game with him, as his trustable partner in crime. He was extremely close to Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, but they were not equal to his wits and ambitions. Sometimes he was brassed off the conversations, time to time he found them boring and lame. His logic was faster than his mates, actually he was longing for nothing, but someone was equal to his high-speed brain.

You could be the one he was searching for, but you were made of poison, greed, and wickedness. Even if he would be blessed by the Heavens, he could not agree to work someone with you.

“Your Highness,” he heard your fucking voice. “We have to visit at least twelve houses more; do you mind hurrying up?”

“The only thing I mind is your fucking attitude.” he gritted his teeth. “Give the plan to me.”

“So, you can destroy everything I organized properly?” you smirked. “I do not think so.”

“Organized?” Baekhyun cocked his eyebrow. “Organized, my ass. Didn’t you lose Park Sangwan’s house? Twice?”

“Look who is talking.” the red of embarrassment slightly painted your cheeks and ears. “The one who had no idea about today’s plans.”

“At least I did not lose my fucking way and circled around the same house almost for half an hour.”

“And the award goes to Byun Baekhyun for his greatest achievements.” you gave back the wink to him, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Oh, breaking news. No achievement no award.”

Baekhyun took it personally since you two competed to each other as the finalists of last academic year. Your project was accepted as the winner while Baekhyun received only a certificate. You hit the lotto, he had to watch you, walking to the stage with a bright smile tugged on your lips.

Still, he could vividly remember the little smirk you gave to him that night when they announced your name.

“You did it consciously.” his jaw clenched. “That night. When they called you as the winner. You immediately turned to me just to annoy me.”

“It seems, I achieve my goal.” your smirk widened, a glistening layer of fun covered your face. “Were you disappointed?”

“Yeah, of course.” he did not miss a single second. “I was disappointed of the professors, I was believing they were cleverer than me, but their choice showed me they were nothing but idiots.”

“Could you smell the air, Baekhyun?” you asked with a serious face. He was confused for a second, you never ask a question to him or call him by his name, but before he could register, you tucked the words in his throat. “Oh, jealousy, my favourite.”

“Darling,” Baekhyun swallowed hard. “There is no single living soul who can be low enough to jealous you in this universe.”

That was not quite truth, because Baekhyun not only remembered your revengeful smile but also how you were looking like that day. He could paint you on canvas by closed eyes, and he would not miss a single detail.

And he was a little bit jealous on that day. Not only because he lost over to you, but also because of the people around you. You annoyed him not only with your award, but also with your closeness to the other men.

Despite of your usual oversize clothes or no makeup policy, you chose to present yourself in a different style. Your hair was perfectly combed, your makeup highlighted your face features, and you were wearing a little light blue dress which tightly caressed your body. Baekhyun, or none of your classmates knew that you had curves for example till that night and to Baekhyun’s dismay, you had a really good body. You were a minion, your beauty was very soft and although he really hated to admit this, you were a view for the spectators. Maybe not the prettiest, but you had something had people looking at you, liking you, desiring you.

You had an aura which was enough to make your biggest enemy to silently acknowledged that you were attractive.

“Maybe, there is no one.” you shrugged your shoulder. “But youwere eager to low yourself, huh?”

You did not forget the look on Baekhyun’s face when Professor Kim called you to the stage. You were sure as fuck, he was cursing you but also there was something else, glowing in his eyes. Something you could not describe, but you could see the same emotion in your reflection when you saw Baekhyun with that crowd of girls.

Rarely.

But still you knew that feeling.

That ceremony was hard for you, of course you were over the moon because of your achievement, that project opened you some fresh opportunities and proved that despite of being a junior, you were more than a bachelor student. You proved your talents and abilities to yourself by winning the first place, you completed a step, made your first goal come true.

And you nailed Byun Baekhyun’s coffin. It was worth of every minute you spent sleepless, your tears and sweats, the hours in library, the hours in front of the plan of Gyeongbokgung Palace and search for the most logical and safest ways of conducting an excavation around the palace.

Your ideas were chosen over Baekhyun’s ideas, and you were aware of the quality of the solutions he proposed.

You were proud of yourself.

It was the bare truth that Baekhyun’s face were singing to you just as your favourite band could sing, seeing his face just like someone fed him with cucumbers was equal to being accepted into your dream field, Chios’ excavations, as the chief archaeologist.

But you were annoyed.

You could not happily taste your success. You could not feel its flavour on your tongue buds.

Because of that bastard looked fucking magnificent in that bloody black suit.

You have been told about the dress code you had to follow, however no one, not a single soul managed to catch his level of looking good in a suit.

You were annoyed because your taste in men was exactly equal to Byun Baekhyun. He had everything you could ask for, he was devilishly charming, there was even no need for words to describe him, he was beautiful.

And he was the only one you hated the most.

Every girl in the room was drooling over him, to your dismay, just like you. You felt that feeling in your stomach, a pain which was spinning, spinning, and spinning, causing a tornado inside of your stomach.

Was it jealousy?

“I already noticed your ignorance about the feelings.” Baekhyun could not control himself anymore and grabbed your shoulder, turning you to the opposite direction. “We have to follow this fucking street, or we will be lost again.”

“Have you been observing me, Baekhyunnie? That’s so cute.” you ignored the second part of his words, just starting to walk on the direction he instructed to you.

“Observing you takes a minute, baby girl, since there is nothing to see.” he answered but he found it interesting when you called him as Baekhyunnie. “You are a spoiled brat.”

“Hop, that hurts.” you pouted, pressed your fist on your chest, faking a whimper. “Would you like to tame this spoiled brat?”

You started to think that you went nuts.

“In your dreams.” Baekhyun laughed, but he literally lost himself in the fucking possibilities you could be tamed by him. “You have to wait a couple of centuries for someone who can be willing to be with you.”

You chuckled but preferred to keep your silence after his words. Damn, your sudden quietude caught Baekhyun’s attention more. Why didn’t you not attack to him? Why didn’t you give him a sharp answer as you should have?

Why you chuckled like there was a line at your door?

Was it?

Baekhyun pondered that instead of the fact that you were generally with a small group of friends, to both of your dismays your common friends, he did not see you with strangers, so there could not a queue for your hand.

Could it be?

And why the fuck he should have care if there is a crowd for you or not? No one could want someone like you if they did not lose their mind.

But he cared. Fuck, he cared more than he wanted.

Because to his disappointment, he knew that there was a real cavalcade of knightly candidates for you.

“Okey,” you checked the time. “After this one, I am going to have lunch.”

“We are going to have lunch.” Baekhyun gritted his teeth. “I hate eating alone enough to endure your presence.”

“Didn’t you tell me there is no one who could want to be with me?” you snickered. “But you have no reservations about having lunch with me?”

“Imagine the situation I am in.” he grumbled. “The day gets better and better.”

You decided to annoy him, pushing him to the edges as much as you could do. The first response that came to your mind refusing him, but the other option was funnier. You could play with Byun Baekhyun, you could take your revenge by being a pain in the ass.

He said that he could endure your presence.

You could make him regretful of his words.

There was a very little smile tugged on your lips which you were not aware of, however, to his dismay, Baekhyun realized it.

Her lips are rosy and plump, he thought to himself. Even though he called you a spoiled brat, he was not sure of if you were a brat or not. Kiddos have not the type of lips, calling people for the kisses, like you. There was something, even during your cocky performances when you tried to beat the life out of him, although you always kept that dull and bored expression and acted like Baekhyun was not worth of your time, but there was something just in you.

Baekhyun swallowed down his own vomit when he admitted it to himself, and you have caught his glare.

“What?” you purred. “Can’t you take your eyes off me?”

“Who the hell wants to watch you?” he quickly collected his thoughts and put them in a fucking trail. “I am looking for a restaurant where we can have good food.”

After a permanent mutual ignorance session for years, his next words caught you off your guard.

“You like local foods, right?” he asked. “I guess the second shop on this street is famous for jjangmyeon and tteokbokki.”

Well, you had to admit that his questions made your brain a little bit foggy. How could he know that?

“Yeah.” for the first time in history, you did not come up with any sharp answer. “How about you?”

“As long as there is no cucumber or extremely sweet cuisine,” he started to walk. “I am fine.”

You heard that Baekhyun is really not in good terms with cucumber.

“Feel you.” you murmured in your mouth because you hated cucumbers as much as you hated Baekhyun. He swiftly look at you, you accompanied him on the street.

“We should celebrate.” he teased. “I said something, you just answered, and we did not have a fight.”

“This is a privilege for cucumbers.” you shrugged your shoulder, but you also felt that he did not buy your nonchalant tone. “I cannot stand them, mum loves it too much, I mean what type of person can love a cucumber? If I need water, I prefer to drink it.”

Your observation made him tilted his head back in that rumbling laugh of his, you were unwilling to join, but the corners of your mouth turned up slightly.

“Here we go.” He, as a gentleman, opened the door for you, you responded with the most neutral expression you could muster. “Oh, no thanks?”

“Thank you.” you rolled your eyes, however, despite of your strongly negative feelings against him, you do not like rudeness. “Sorry, that was insolence of me.”

“Your apology is fully accepted.” he winked, you hated that cocky tone, you hated yourself for falling into his trap. You passed him, went to a distanced table where it placed in the corner. You did not want to be seen as having a lunch with Baekhyun by your teammates.

Corner was fine.

“Oh, no.” he grabbed your arm, manhandled you to the tables of the center. “I will not let you escape. If they see us, let them to see.”

Your eyebrows knitted, your lips pressed to each other enough to form a thick line on your face, you could almost taste your growing anger. But at the same time, you realized that feeling his hand on your skin increased your heartbeats, you wanted to scream with self-hatred, but you bite down on your tongue as his hand quickly wandered to down, to your waist. He directed you to the most visible table from outside while you were fighting yourself in order to control your fucking pace of breathing.

Please, this could not be true, I could not be excited because of his touch, you thought.

This was not happening, what the fuck was happening?

Baekhyun was not so different from you, even though his face expression was not changed for a bit. He forced himself to take control, but it was really hard for him.

Your hate was reciprocated, right? You guys could not spend even a bloody minute in peace, the only thing you had was annoyance.

So, why you perfectly fit in his embrace just like you were made just to be under his arm?

Why Baekhyun wanted to tight his arm around your waist?

Why could you not say anything even though Baekhyun was literally holding you?

Why you felt like you were in the only place where you had to be for the rest of your days?

“Hi.” you heard the waitress who was a really beautiful girl. “Welcome to Sung’s String. How can I help you?”

Even though finishing her sentence, she begun to eye Baekhyun. You rolled your eyes and reached to the menu; to be honest, this show was not funny after seeing it for the million times. Every time, Sejong Team went outside for a drink, for a gathering or even for a museum trip, girls and sometimes boys gazing the members of Sejong Team just like they were idols or actors because of their good-looking. Eh, they were not wrong, you had to say that the Sejong Team included really, really, and really handsome boys from Baekhyun to Chanyeol, from Kyungsoo to Jongdae and these boys’ superiors were Kim oh-my-godJunmyeon and Kim lord-help-us Minseok.

Well…

You were already got used to the reactions coming from all around when Sejong Team showed their faces. You knew that both of insiders and outsiders of Sejong Institute called your team members as the Flower Boys or a shitty nickname like that.

“I would like to have a jjangmyeon without cucumbers, and a tteokbokki.” you turned the menu off. “With a light coke.”

“Coke?” Baekhyun mimicked you like he could not believe his ears. “Are you kidding? Everyone knows that you have to drink jasmine tea in order to help digestion.”

“Have you been majored in nutrition?” you gave him your bitchy resting face. “Shut the fuck up.”

“No coke.” he wholly ignored you and turned to the waitress who was watching him as drooling. “Please, we want two bowls of jjangmyeon, two tteokbokki, also please we would like to have kimbap and kimchi as the garnitures and of course a pot of jasmine tea.”

“Yeah!” she sounded weaker after Baekhyun conducted all power he had in his eyes to her. “Anything else?”

“I guess we are fine for the time being.” Baekhyun smiled to her, causing a flush of redness on her cheeks.

“I will be back as soon as possible.” the girl literally purred, Baekhyun’s eyes shined after her reaction. Little bastard. You did not want to think about it, but his visible joy had your stomach churned. You inhaled and took your book out of your bag.

“What are you doing?” Baekhyun glanced up at you, reached to take the book from your hands. “Having lunch together means conversation, are you going to read?”

“Give the book to me, Byun.” you kicked his foot under the table. “I know you do not know how to read and enjoy but that’s a good habit to have.”

“Yeah, I know that habit of you gives nothing but lonely hours in library.” he had no limits of shooting his arrows. “Have you ever tried something different for a change?”

“Like what?” you tried to get back your book. “Following your great example and dedicate my life to your favourite sport? Sorry, I have no interest in running after women by lolling my tongue out of my mouth.”

“Baby girl,” Baekhyun put your book in his leather bag. “You have no idea whose tongue lolls out of the mouth.”

You could not decide on what you hated the most. Baekhyun or the girls after Baekhyun? You concluded as both of them were equally horrible in your eyes.

“I am sure your stories are incredible.” you inhaled. “But I really do not like to hear the anecdotes of miserable women. Could you give the book back before I gauge your eyes off?”

“Nope.” he grinned. “I can bet on you are still a virgin but tell me if you have an affair or not, I would like to pay my condolences to your partner.”

He was already written as the first name in your list of most-hated-people, but suddenly became the first man to be written as the first enemy of a lifetime.

“Did you finish your own list of dead partners?” you raised one eyebrow. “Thinking of its length gives me chills.”

“No dead.” his grin widened from one ear to the other. “They just had some temporary heart problems due to the performances I gave to them.”

You opened your mouth to slap his face with the words, but the waitress came back to your table with a huge tray. She was placing every bowl and plate, actually fucking Baekhyun with her eyes, you literally hardly suppressed your instincts, telling you to warn her immediately.

But you were not honest with yourself about why you wanted to warn her. In the deep of your mind, but in very deep, you had been starting to realize that you disliked when the girls threw themselves to Baekhyun because you wanted them to stop. You did not like the scene because you did not want to share Baekhyun’s gaze with another person.

You were lying to yourself without realizing what was the real problem of you.

You loved Baekhyun from the beginning, even though he was a fucking tease and a bloody smartass. There was no other man for you, if someone could cut your chest, the only thing would be seen in your heart was his name.

But that would be the heaviest self-enlightenment, and you were definitely not ready for such as a thing. That’s why you unconsciously continued to trick yourself by disguising your own feelings from your own eyes.

You got the chopsticks and decided to have your lunch instead of burying yourself in the maze of thoughts. Baekhyun realized your discomfort, but he had no idea what the real reason of your mood was, whatever made you unhappy was more than okey for him. He could be happy as long as you were sorrowful.

“You still not give an answer to the question.” he was persistent on pushing your limits. “Do you have a relationship?”

“Why are you curious?” you took a mouthful amount of jjangmyeon. How much you wanted to stuff these noodle strings into his throat, suffocating him to death. “If you want to send a bouquet, please note that I love blue roses.”

“You are really a virgin, huh?” Baekhyun diabolically grinned, you could swear on you saw the red halo over his head.

“Darling, you cannot make me angry by stating what is obvious.” you smiled back, there was no reason holding it back, you were always open on these issues, and a sick part of you wanted to tell him to see his reaction. “Yeah, I am a virgin.”

“Do you conservatively follow a church?” his chin dropped a few inches. “How could it be possible with all the boys who try to seduce you?”

Well, you did not expect to hear this.

“Come on,” Baekhyun continued. “I always see you with a bunch of men, do you really think they are following you only for friendship?”

“On the contrary of you and your limit-does-not-exist type of libido, people can build the bonds of affinity.”

“Only when they do not search for an open door to sneak in.” Baekhyun pointed his chopsticks to your face. “Telling you, I can name at least six permanent names in the waiting room.”

You did not see the hidden meaning of his words, however, Baekhyun was already became regretful, he silently prayed for your ignorance and blindness were going to keep him safe. Because he gave you the biggest clue of his interest in you by stating he could give even names.

He still did not understand how he could know everything about you or why he always put a brick on the ways of the candidates for you, but he did. Hell, he was unapologetically finding a way to prevent the boys who liked you and no one could understand it was Baekhyun. He always came up with a solution in order to intimate them, put them back off. You were not aware but Baekhyun always appeared around you when he thought a candidate was close to you more than he supposed to be.

He already put his stamina on you as his girl, but he was not aware of his own actions. He was not aware of what he has been doing, how he was persistently looking for you, searching for your face in every class or harmoniously living with your voice. It was like your breathing was singing to his ears, and he was dancing with your melody.

Baekhyun did not understand but he was yours.

“I am not sure what you think,” you sipped from jasmine tea with self-confidence. “But there is no such a fucking waiting room.”

“You are really blind.” Baekhyun chewed a rice cake, generously dipping it into the gochujang sauce. “Don’t you think Oh Seunghwan is acting like more than a friend? Or Jang Jeongbun? Jesus, even you really cannot be that much idiot.”

Baekhyun was right for the first time in history. You were nothing more than a retard because you really did not understand the behind the scenes of his words. He was unconsciously giving you the signs of his interests in you, but you were so naïve to see.

“They are my friends, Baekhyun.” you rolled your eyes back. “I know grasping the nature of different relationships is hard for you, but people can be nothing but friends. No need to add tensions or searching for hidden meanings.”

Every time you vocalized his fucking name, Baekhyun felt its impact went straight to his dick, and he hated himself for that.

You were not the type of people who could be okey with the target of teasing. You wanted to play, you wanted to be enhanced by it, sinking into the waves of the game.

And even Baekhyun did not admit it in his head, he believed you were the most attractive girl he has been known because of you always corresponded to his moves and cards.

“How about you?” you immediately played your reverse card, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “I heard that you and your gorgeous looks which made entire school swoon and fantasize about you? Are you really called as the sexiest human being on the country?”

Your voice was the strongest indicator of your disbelief, he could be the biggest moron on planet Earth, nothing more nothing less.

Also, you were aware of those comments on Baekhyun more than you wished for. You kept everything you heard about him in your head, in the safest and the most secret file of your brain, refusing to think but keeping on unconsciously think about those speculations. You found them very suspicious, but not because of Baekhyun did not deserve to be called as the sexiest human being, you found those fantasies as unlikely because of Baekhyun had not that macho man stuff people were somehow attributing to him.

You had grown so sick from all of these dreams and comments, coming from every corner of school since Baekhyun was like a star.

And now, you had him seemed quite displeased with your tease.

“Only on the country?” he raised one eyebrow. “Shit, it seems I am not doing well.”

“Baby, you are coming after Park Chanyeol.” you sighed in joy of dancing on your tiptoes. “That’s a quite achievement, when you think.”

“Chanyeol?” he sighed in annoyance; you knew that you trapped his ego in a small box. “Coming after Chanyeol?”

“Yeah.” you gave the most nonchalant look to him. “Well, I can tell that’s quite unfair since Flower Boys includes really strong names such as Kyungsoo or Junmyeon but… Poor girls, they have to be lunatic to put you after Chanyeol.”

“What do you think about these extremely distorted images of us?” Baekhyun angrily took a mouthful of jjangmyeon.

“Do you ask my list?” you crossed your hands over your chest, cooing with gleamy eyes. “I cannot believe that Byun Baekhyun, asking me, a poor peasant, for her list.”

Baekhyun’s eyes darkening, and you were not sure why your mood was changed from the pure need of mocking him to an excitement which you could not ignore. His voice was really screechy and boyish when he asked your list, and his voice giving you a different kind of pleasure. Not the pleasure of scolding him, but the delight of toying him, pushing him to the edge.

But you did not analyse your current feelings, instead, you rushed to deliver your actually-not-existent list.

“We are talking about physical features, right? But I am going to rate everyone also with their characteristics.” you smiled. “For me, the first name is Chanyeol. I mean, look at that face he has, and his body ratio is excellent, but he has a golden heart. Then, of course Kyungsoo, he is fucking handsome, therefore, he is a great guy.”

“I really pity your tastes of men.” Baekhyun’s discontent with your made-up list was palpable, and the dissatisfaction of his tone was like honey left out in the morning sun.

“The number 3 is Junmyeon as always.” you wholly ignored his comment. “No one can say anything against to Kim Junmyeon, he is the definition of aesthetic. Minseok and Jongdae shared the same number in my list, and that’s all.”

“You forgot me.” Baekhyun snorted, his voice made you lifted your head. He was so tense; you never see his jaw clenched at this expand. What’s up his ass? you silently though in your head.

“I did not.” you were cool as a cucumber. “You are not in the list.”

Till now, you guys always ate each other, digging the graves for each other, always fighting always scolding always throwing invisible daggers to each other. However, you have never ever seen those dangerous lights, dancing in the pupils of Baekhyun after your words.

It was difficult to wrap your mind around the fact that you found this Baekhyun as more attractive than his usual-self and unfortunately you already found Baekhyun very desirable. Even though you would never even let yourself to think about being intimate with him, his eyes stirred something inside of you, ignited some fires close to your lower stomach.

“I am sorry to hear that.” you also never heard this cold voice tone of Baekhyun, and you heard almost every negative version of Baekhyun’s voice which he spared only to use against you. “Let’s finish the meals, we have to be back to work.”

“Yeah.” you nod, lightly smiled. You managed to make him mad, you achieved your goal to annoy him so bad.

Why did you feel bad?

Why did you want Baekhyun to continue on the game?

Why did you feel regretful?

Why did you want to cry?

When Baekhyun’s phone started to ring, you almost completed every house in the list Junmyeon gave to you.

And you spent the last two hours in a total silence. It was eerily, Baekhyun’s lips firmly presses into each other like he sworn on not to talk again. You were not so different, but inside of your mind, something was gnawing your inner peace.

You were not happy, even you coped with the most difficult task, shutting Baekhyun’s mouth.

But you were not happy. You did not feel like you got the prize.

Instead…

You were extremely sad, and you felt like you let the trophy to slid between your fingers.

You had to feel like you hit the jackpot, but quite opposite, you were miserable.

You were especially afraid of losing Baekhyun’s attention, your own heart was aching at the way you told him off.

Still, you were lying to yourself and trying to conceal what made you afraid, you were not honest to your conscious, however despite of your efforts, you knew something was wrong with you after his transformation after you showed him the door.

You were a coward; you were not accepting the solid fact that you were in love with Byun Baekhyun and what made you afraid was nothing but losing him.

However, you were also sure on Baekhyun had a place in your head, making you shutter, had you shaking in your shoes. You could not name where to put his name, but you knew he had a place in your life.

And you were horrified by the possibility of losing the chance of hearing his voice. Even if his cocky remarks were the only words you could rip from him.

“Yeah?” Baekhyun answered to the call, for a second, you were happy to hear his voice again, but he walked towards to the last house you had to visit without waiting for you. He did not do this, even in the beginning of the day. You took a deep breath, you did not know why the heck you were really sad for his sudden coldness, godfuckingdamnit didn’t you hate and always despise each other? You mentally slapped yourself to gather yourself up, but it was pointless, you rushed to catch him.

You were aware of there was a painful squeeze in your chest, but you could not understand the reason of its presence or how you could get rid of that.

“Junmyeon told us to retreat.” Baekhyun informed you without looking at you. “After this house, we have to run back to the meeting point.”

“Okey.” you nod, hated the meek voice tone you produced but your mind was not on the case, you were questioning your own feelings and firm beliefs about Baekhyun.

Baekhyun was not better, to be honest, he was worse than you.

When you nonchalantly told him he was not in your list, he wanted to puke everything he devoured during lunch even though tteokbokki was his favourite food. He wanted to punch himself on the face when you counted the members of your fucking list, he wanted to smack his head into the table.

Chanyeol? Kyungsoo? Damnit, even Junmyeon found his way to sneak into your list, but Baekhyun was not there.

He was always sure of he would be landed in every list, but he never think that being in your fucking list was the most important for him.

Why did he care if you were not seeing him as a man or not?

This question swirling in his head had his mind shattering.

As much as he was happy to see you wiggling like a worm under the fires, he could not control his reactions against the problem. When he saw you trembling over a case, he was the first one always popped out of nowhere to fix the problem in the darkness and never let you learn that it was him. He did not let even Junmyeon to help you, putting aside Chanyeol or Kyungsoo.

Baekhyun was the one who had been saving your ass like he was your invisible rescue call.

But you did not name him in your fucking list.

It drove him into crazy. The lack of your attention. He never mean that alerting you on his helps or care for you, but at the same time, he never think that his efforts would be equal to nothing.

He hated himself as much he hated you.

While you were walking back to the meeting point, both of you were lost in your own darkest thoughts. You were carefully paying the attention in order to not to have immersed each other, however both of you wanted nothing but screaming to each other, enough to have the fiercest fight till now.

You wanted to lose yourself in Baekhyun just like he was dying to bury himself into you for his dear life. However, both of you were very good at muting the voices of your hearts and minds.

“Indy! Baekhyun!” you heard Minseok, turning to his voice. “It is going to be a blizzard; we have to find a shelter.”

“Ha?”

“The forecast was clear as fuck.” Chanyeol pointed Junmyeon who was glued to his phone. “Jun is looking for a hotel for us since we could not go back.”

“We can take the cabs?” you were puzzled, a blizzard would be bad, but it did not mean that you had to spend the night here. “I mean, we are not living in a different city.”

“Yeah, you are right.” Shinhye crossed her arms over her shoulders, trying to keep herself warm. You had to admit, although you did not feel it till now, the weather was really cold. “But the cab drivers refused to drive into the city center. They advised us to stay here.”

“How about using metro?” you asked. “It is not so hard.”

“If you want,” Junmyeon hissed at you, holding the phone over his shoulder for a second. “You can try your chance, Indy. However, we are going to spend the night here. Safe and warm.”

“He is right.” Kyungsoo smiled at you. “I prefer to be warm and dry, sorry.”

You took a look at the team, and everyone was approving Kyungsoo’s words like they were bloody zealots.

“Okey, dumbasses.” you sighed in annoyance. “But we do not have even fucking pyjamas.”

“You can always take your clothes off.” Chanyeol winked at you. “Who says you need a pair of pyjamas to sleep?”

“Shut the fuck up, Chanyeol.” a sudden blush spread over your cheekbones, Chanyeol could not help but burst into laughs.

Baekhyun was determined to ignore you, but he could not help himself.

“Yeah, number one.” he muttered between his teeth, enough to be heard only by you. “Golden heart.”

Your chin was dropped for a few inches after hearing his annoyed voice tone and vindictive comment.

Could it be the reason of his unexpected coldness?

Could he be jealous of your invalid expressions and your fake list?

No way.

He could not be.

Your heart skipped the order of beats.

“Okey,” Junmyeon interrupted your thoughts. “We are going, if we are lucky, we will be in the hotel before the bloody snow will sweep down on us.”

“Let’s go!” Shinhye grabbed your hand, dragging you beside of herself. You submissively followed her footsteps; however, your mind was distracted by Baekhyun’s last words.

Could it be?

“This is heaven.” Jongdae rubbed his tummy. “Thank you, Jun!”

“No problem.” Junmyeon smiled and looked at all of you, to be honest, after a really good and delicious dinner, everyone was knocked out over the table.

Except you and Baekhyun.

“If you want you can go to your rooms.” Junmyeon said. “Since we were fortunate to find a single room for each of us, I do not think we have to play rock-paper-scissor.”

“Ah, having a room for myself.” Minseok laughed. “I do not have to hear your snorts, Junmyeon.”

They were sharing the same flat, everyone laughed after his teasing, Junmyeon too.

“Look who is talking.” he beamed. “I am so happy that I am going to have one night without your damn showering rituals.”

“Tell us about it.” Jongdae whined. “Pleeeassse.”

While Junmyeon and Minseok had been giving details of their flatmate stories to the team, making everyone to enjoy the environment, you were deeply sink into the pool of thoughts.

What a day, you thought. And why I feel like I am desperate?

Also, Baekhyun was not enjoying the unexpected banquet, instead he was quite enough to draw attention to himself. Chanyeol was on the verge of asking what the heck was wrong with him, but Kyungsoo kicked him under the table, pointed you with his eyes. Chanyeol’s wit quickly grabbed the matter, and he devilishly grinned.

You gave a hard day to Baekhyun, and he had no intention to change a thing between you and Baekhyun.

He always believed that you were secretly liking each other, but as you were nothing but stubborn bastards, you concealed your feelings towards each other.

Chanyeol definitely had zero motive to interrupt the fight between you, if it meant you would understand your mutual feelings.

Junmyeon also sensed the tension between you and Baekhyun, but he was not the type of persons who could wait on his corner.

“Baekhyun? Baekhyun!” Junmyeon called out him, waking him up. “How was your day? Why you guys are silent as dead?”

“We completed the task.” Baekhyun answered sourly, the corner of his mouth jumping downwards faintly. “As you assigned me and her.”

Baekhyun deliberately avoided using the pronoun of us.

“And it was a hell of task.” he continued. “I am so tired.”

“Even if you are fucking tired,” Jongdae raised a rejection. “You never shut your mouth, tell us what the heck is gnawing you?”

The bloody girl who sits next to you, Baekhyun thought but he was clever enough to keep the filter between his mouth and brain as valid.

“The girl I gave a promise for this night.” he forced himself to beam. “Because of this fucking weather, I have to arrange another meeting with her.”

Your heart churned, his reply had you wanting to slap your face. Harshly.

And you thought that he could be jealous because you named Chanyeol!

You were nothing but such an idiot.

An idiot who did not know a single piece of shit but acting so superior.

You were a goddamn idiot.

Chanyeol’s eyes narrowed after hearing Baekhyun’s shitty words, Kyungsoo wanted to punch Baekhyun’s face so bad, Junmyeon’s dislike of Baekhyun was obvious but he did not say anything, just sighed in desperation.

You felt nothing but another flash of pain as someone hit your abdomen.

“Are you okey, Indy?” Jongdae leaned over to you, whispering. You shook your head positively, smiling slightly. “You did not throw yourself into even desert.”

Your love for deserts was not a secret amongst your friends as Shinhye, sharing Jongdae’s concerns, handed you a bunch of cloudy puffs, filled with lemon cream. You took one of them, although you had no appetite, you forced yourself to eat the puff in order to put your friends at ease.

He was your biggest enemy and rival, right?

Why you were so devastated, almost on the verge of being hysterical?

You were not aware of you had been hypocritical with your feelings, and you were running away from your own heart. That’s why your hands were shaking, your heart was drumming into your ribs and aching as hell.

You were not ready to face with your heart, but you were also too naïve to save yourself from the pain it caused.

“Was he really harsh on you?” Jongdae murmured, his eyes was nothing but full of worries. “I am sure you could put him in his place but still…”

“He was not.” you said. “And you know me, nothing cheers me up but kicking his ass.”

“Glad to hear that.” Jongdae inhaled but the worries did not leave his face. “So why are you so down?”

“I am really tired today.” you sighed, tucking another puff into your mouth as you mentally punched your face in order to take the fucking control of yourself. “But if I will eat enough amount of these pastries, I will be like a bomb.”

“You are already like a bomb.” Minseok joined into the chat. “You look like on the verge of exploding.”

You unwillingly laughed at his damn right assumption.

“You know what?” you sniffed. “I am dying for a good drink. Would like to join me for a soju break?”

There was no single soul who could oppose to propose of grab a drink in your team. Jongdae jumped out of his chair, Shinhye was born ready and Minseok was the strongest drunkard.

“We are heading to the bar.” Minseok happily announced. “If you guys want to join, perfect, if not, good night to all.”

You were always impressed by the eagerness of Sejong Team to jump into any opportunity for a drink. Everyone, every single soul of this team, had a strong will to consume a respectable amount of alcohol. Less than a minute, everyone gathered up and headed to the elevators in order to visit the terrace of the hotel.

You had been wondering how rich Junmyeon was, even though he was a senior in college, or which kind of relations he had under his belt.

Jesus, you could not pay your attention during the dinner, however the hotel you had been staying was nothing but a touch of luxury. You had a strong guess on the payment bill of this place, however you preferred to keep it to yourself as you knew that Junmyeon did not like talking about the wealth lies beneath his fingertips.

But the bar was intimating.

Minseok, Jongdae and Kyungsoo were having a fierce conversation about the administrative offices of Roman Empire, Shinhye were with Junmyeon as they were talking on the next project that they aimed to present for the Head of Department. Chanyeol, only God knew how the heck he found that, was playing a guitar and you, as dwelling in an extremely comfortable armchair, tucked yourself into a blanket like a sushi roll, were enjoying the sudden calmness around yourself. The dim lights, from the chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, casting mirages across the hall, showing the wooden tables scattered between the chairs and beautiful, fresh cut flowers in their elegant vases.

It is not Korean but Chinese or Japanese, you thought, however with your bad eyesight, making an observation about the porcelain and its design was impossible. Also, you were a little bit slothful at the very moment to move your butt, you wanted to indulge in the soju you were holding, not anything else.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, warm but unfamiliar, your head jerked to face the owner of touch.

Baekhyun was looking at you, however his eyes were different from his usual self. There was no intention to mock with you, his eyes were clear as the snow drops that covering the streets right now.

“May I sit?” Baekhyun asked to you, catching you off guard with an unexpected kindness. You nod, feeling a sudden increase of the level of excitement, but kept your mouth shut. “Thank you.”

Thanking you? Byun Baekhyun?

You perked up, starting to prepare yourself for the fight, despite of the considerable amount of soju flowing in your veins, you were ready to guard yourself.

His elbow brushed your forearm when he was rolling his body in order to adjust the chair next to you.

You were shocked by the reaction your body gave to the moment, the only thing he did was sitting on a fucking chair, but your cheekbones were on fire.

His hips, damn his hips your inner voice was hysterically whispering in your head.

“May I ask to which muse I owe this honour?” you searched Baekhyun’s eyes for a glint of dismissiveness, however this was the very first time you have been the target of sincere, chocolate brown and deep irises.

“I have a question for you.” Baekhyun quickly ignored your offensive joke. “Why I am not in your list?”

He may as well have tossed you inside of a volcano, kicking you into the pool of lava, the impact would be the same. Your heart prompted to your stomach, they churned together, your throat and lungs tightened so bad, enough to cut your air by yourself.

You open your mouth, but nothing come out, just a bubble.

“I do not know how to translate that.” he sneered however you were at a loss. You could expect a lot of words from Byun Baekhyun but questioning the reason of his absence in your fucking list was not one of them.

“There is—” you bite your lower lip to stop yourself, you were on the verge of confessing that there was no list, you just tried to poke his ego, but thank God, you still had a piece of sanity to hold on. “I do not understand. Why do you care my list?”

Do I look like I fucking know? Baekhyun wanted to shake your cage, he wished nothing but screaming at you with all power he had in his lungs. He had no idea why he was mad at you, but he was out of rage and the only reason was you.

“Because I am curious.” he leaned his elbows onto his knees, cocking one eyebrow to you. “And what I hate most is being ignorant to a case.”

“I know.” you spoke without thinking, your mind was delving into the current problem you had in order to find a balanced answer, so you did not realize what you exactly said.

Unfortunately for you, Byun Baekhyun did not become your biggest rival by being blind or deaf.

His lips slightly curled upwards.

But the gentleman he could be, he did not corner you for the time being.

“So?”

It did not mean he would not try to push you in order to get what he wanted.

“Is there a rule saying that every human being has to be interested in you?”

You were not aware of it, but your voice was cracking, and your breathing became heavier, quickened and there was a sheen of sweet on your forehead.

To your dismay, Byun Baekhyun did not unconsciously mark you as his girl without studying you to the bits.

“Humanity is a different topic.” he widely smiled. “I wonder about you, sweetheart.”

Your breath stuck in your lungs because of the endearment, even though you were aware of his teasing of you.

“You are not my type, Byun.” you dead serious.

“Ah, your type is Chanyeol, right?” he smirked, turning his head to the tall brunette who indulged himself into the guitar. “Should we alert him to your interest in him?”

“Goddamn, no!” you hissed at him. What kind of trouble he was aiming to knit on your head? “Do you know the definition of privacy? You are invading personal boundaries, dumbass.”

“I do not think so.” Baekhyun shrugged his shoulder. “If you like Chanyeol, Chanyeol has the right of be aware of your interest.”

“Okey, even a scoundrel like you cannot be crossing the limit of respect like this.” you moved to stand up, giving the most dangerous look to Baekhyun. “I do not have to lis-

“Hey, Chanyeol!” Baekhyun called him with a high-pitched voice. Chanyeol lifted his head, distracted by the unexpected scream of Baekhyun.

“What?”

“Nothing!” your hand immediately tugged onto Baekhyun’s knee, squeezing it tightly in order to warn him. “You are playing so good, keep going!”

Chanyeol laughed at your words.

“You do not have to scream like that, Goddamnit.”

“Tell it to your friend.” you rolled your eyes back, fuming with anger but covering your face pretty well. You turned to Baekhyun, your eyes telling him that he was in serious danger if he was not going to shut his fucking mouth up.

Baekhyun did not care your silent warning, but your hand on his knee was a real distraction for him.

“I know that he is not your type.” he murmured, watching your hand, small, pale, and soft, Baekhyun did not want to confess but he wanted to latch your fingers to his. “Is it Kyungsoo?”

“Do I interrogate your preferences of girls, damn?” you literally gritted between your teeth. “Leave it.”

“I have no intention.” Baekhyun turned to Kyungsoo, narrowing his eyes. “Let’s ask if you are Kyungsoo’s type.”

“What the fuck are you, cupid?!” you grunted, and your hands moved without your consent. You grasped Baekhyun’s jawline, your fingertips were brushing his ears. “I said, leave it.”

“If you want to shut my mouth,” Baekhyun beamed, ignoring the fact that your touch meant for a lot than he could expect, he was going to think about it later. “Tell me why I am not in your list.”

“No one can desire someone like you!” you exploded. “An arrogant, dandy, selfish boy who does not know nothing but bringing trouble to others. That’s why you can never be in my list, even I have to choose between you and an octopus. For the records, I hate octopus, but I would go for it, if it means the other option is you.”

“Oh, you hurt me.” Baekhyun’s eyes glimmered with the sparks of unnamed feelings. He leaned forward, enough you to feel his breath fanning your lips. “You know what, sweetheart? You are so aggressive only when you have a secret which have to stay only in your head.”

“W-what?”

“I am definitely in that list.” Baekhyun claimed it with confidence, but it was just the appearance. Inside him, his heart was definitely shuttering, cracking into pieces, he had no control over himself, he could not understand his sudden behaviours. “I am in your list, if there is a list.”

Your eyes widened, and pupils blown up.

“Jesus.” you snorted. “When you lost your fucking mind?”

“You are a pretty bad liar.” Baekhyun was making assumptions out of his ass in order to get a reaction from you, he was not fucking sure if he was in the list or not, but everything he said actually rang the true bells.

“And you are a lunatic.” your intense eyes pinned him down, and the frowning lips caught your attention, but you forced to came back to your senses as soon as possible. “You will never be anything more than a lunatic.”

You attempted to stand up, but he was incredibly swift to catch your wrist, pressing you back to the armchair.

“Tell me, sweetheart.” he held your wrist for his dear life, caging you and to your disappointment, coming closer to your face, causing your ability of speaking to be faded immediately.

His godfuckingdamnit lips.

“You have been having doubts on me since the day we met, your driving force is giving me hard time.” his breathing was fanning your cheekbones. "Confess now, why are you pissed at me all the time?”

“Hell, you do talk like you are so different. Aren’t you the one who always finds a way to be trouble for me?” you raised one eyebrow, letting him to realize the game was reserved for two people. “If it means liking someone, since when you have been fallen in love over heels with me?”

“You have no idea how much I want to place your heels over my shoulders.”

Your chin was dropped, his words had you turning into a mummy who was trying to register into his remarkable sentence without a single brain cell.

You had to come up with the best answer you could give. You had to find the best response to him, and it had to be a perfect balance of sharpness, cockiness, and matureness as it had to be said with the resting bitch face.

And you heard your own voice.

“Ha?”

“You heard what I said.” Baekhyun intensively gazed at you, the proximity between your bodies had your body quivering and trembling at the same time and his fucking knee slightly, almost insensibly pushed your legs apart.

“You are really nonsensical, Baekhyun.” you inhaled, doing your best in order to ignore all the jolts all over your body, numbing your mind but also setting the skin on fire. Every time you said his name, Baekhyun felt something turning in his lower stomach. “What the fuck you want from me?”

“You did not name me in your list.” You could not believe your fucking eyes, more importantly, you could not believe you were still listening his gibberish like a kindergarten kiddo. “But, I am better than everyone else here.”

His voice dropped the slightest, making you shiver.

“Would you like me to prove it to you?”