#a piece to celebrate one year of being mutuals with my very best friend~ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jazzthatonewriterchick · 2 years ago

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A Birthday Threesome for ‘Suki (Bakugou x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

"Two pretty sluts for the price of one? Lucky me."

Pairing: Pro!Bakugou x Black!Fem!Reader x Your Fem!Best Friend

Synopsis: In which you and your best friend decide to help your man see the joy in birthdays by giving him a threesome. Also, Bakugou likes butt plugs. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY HUBBY 🎈

Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS GTFO), Sub to Dom!Bakugou, Dom to sub!Fem!Reader, Race of Reader not Specified, Threesome, Birthday Sex, Anal Play, Food Play, Prostate Massaging, Edging, Double Blowjob, Mild Girl on Girl (just kissing), Spit Play, Cunnilingus, Multiple Positions, Unprotected PIV, Squirting, Creaming, Fingering, Overstimulation, Mild Degradation, Three Way Kissing, Cum Eating, Creampies, Facials, Dirty Talk, Three Way Cuddle

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I'm uploading this ahead of time cuz it’s my boy’s birthday!! 🥳🥳 This one is kinda different, but I hope y’all like it! Enjoy! 🥰 -Jazz

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Bakugou had never been the one for birthdays.

It’s not like he hated them, he’s told you once before while sitting in the spring sun for a picnic. “I just don’t see the hype with ‘em,” he said when you asked about it. “So what I turned a year older than I was last year? So what I’m still on this fuckin’ earth? What’s the big deal?”

“But birthdays are something to celebrate!” You had protested, which he thought was cute. “The way I see it, you can either be a year older while alive or you could be a year older six feet under. Birthdays are for celebrating with the people you love.”

“And I do,” he had argued. “I celebrate with you, don’t I?” You hummed indifferently as he rubbed your feet that were settled in his lap. “Look, babe, I get it; you like the surprise parties and birthday cakes and razzle-dazzle. I don’t need all that shit. I don’t even need a card.”

His response had definitely rubbed you the wrong way. To you, birthdays were a time of celebration! To be on this earth for a certain number of years, especially with the shit the economy, capitalism, and COVID brought, was an accomplishment in itself. And to be able to celebrate another birthday with your man was even better!

So, being the loving, great girlfriend you were, of course, you’d think of the best way to turn your man’s frown upside down and show him the beauty of birthdays. And what better way to do that than to plan a birthday threesome?

Yes, a birthday threesome.

You and Bakugou had always been a kinky couple. Anything that you could bring into the bedroom that the both of you could enjoy, you’d do it. Handcuffs and rope? Tried ‘em. Blindfolding? Temperature play? Most definitely. Bakugou loved you calling him “daddy” and seeing you squirm underneath him as he edged you to oblivion (being the asshole he is).

But what he loved more than anything was to submit to you, too. He never expressed it to your mutual friends or tried to show it as much, but you knew he loved it when you took full control over him. His body, his mind, and his cock were all yours for the night to bend to your will. Add in a butt plug and some pegging, and he was ready to give you everything.

However, the thought of having another person you could watch break him apart and share in that domination was hotter than you initially realized before coming up with your deviously-hot birthday surprise.

You and Bakugou had discussed a threesome before, but Bakugou was very possessive. He’d be ready to blast someone to space for just looking at you. Plus, you didn’t know where to even look for the best third piece…until you did.

Your best friend. A woman who was just as hot as you and whom you trusted wholeheartedly. A woman who also happened to have a secret attraction to your boyfriend that she confessed to you over cocktails one night. A woman you’ve caught Bakugou subtly checking out a few times during social outings…but obviously not subtle enough.

You’d never been angered at him for it, especially when he’d shown you many times before that you were the only woman for him. “I belong to you,” he’d say to you, his sweaty forehead to yours, cock buried deep inside of you. So the idea of sharing such a hunk with someone who also was attracted to him would be much hotter than you initially thought.

When you’d come to her with the idea, she’d first look at you like you were insane. “You sure?” she’d ask, uncertain about this. But after some reassurance on your end, she’d be ecstatic to be a part of your birthday surprise. Just imagine it now, how’d it all pan out:

The day of Bakugou’s birthday, you’d pepper him in kisses and make him his favorite banana pancakes that morning before shooing him out the door for a spa day before he could initiate birthday sex.

“A $100 Hand & Stone coupon?” he’d grumble when you handed him the card, scowling at you. “Babe, I told you that you didn’t–”

“Hush!” you’d say, pressing a finger to his plump lips. “Every hero needs a little relaxation, so this is yours. You need a massage.” His vermillion eyes would twinkle mischievously. “I need a massage, alright,” he’d growl, pressing your hand to his groin. “Think you can help me with that?”

Ignoring him, you’d shoo him out the door of your shared apartment. When he finally begrudgingly left for nearly two hours of relaxation, you’d spend the whole day prepping for tonight. You’d clean the apartment from top to bottom, fix Bakugou his favorite dinner, leave it in the fridge for later, and call up your friend to tell her to come over. She’d arrive, happy to help you prepare for everything.

“You sure we have time?” she’d ask, grabbing some lemon pledge to wipe down the counters.

“The spa treatment is an all-day special,” you’d explain as you swept. “He’ll be out for hours.” That answer was enough to reassure your friend that you’d have all the time in the world to clean and cook.

When your man finally came home later that evening, relaxed from his massage, skin glowing from his seaweed mask, and feeling loose from the champagne the spa offered back to back, he’d walk in to find the apartment suspiciously empty. “Baby?” he’d call. “You in here? I’ll admit, that stupid ass spa treatment was nice.”

You wouldn’t answer. Your lack of response would make Bakugou nervous and he’d contemplate calling you until he ventured into the kitchen and saw what’d lie for him on the kitchen counter. There would be a red velvet cake (his favorite flavor) sitting there adorned in buttercream frosting and decorated in red and orange flowers that appear to also look like fire blasts. On the top would be writing in red food coloring that read, “Happy Birthday Katsuki!”

Bakugou would be confused yet touched. Did you do all of this while he was out? Before he could ponder on it more, he’d be taken aback by the faint scent of roses and soft giggling coming from upstairs. “Up here, babe!” you’d call.

Filled with relief that you were safe (just hiding), Bakugou would venture up the steps. “What is all this?” he’d call you. “I told you, I didn’t need all this, baby, really.” But as he walked upstairs, his heart would pound methodically against his ribcage in anticipation of what was to come next.

But nothing could’ve prepared him for what he found waiting for him in your shared master bedroom. When he pushed open the bedroom door, he’d find a trail of red rose petals leading right over to his birthday presents: you and your friend, sitting on the couch near the window overlooking the city lights, dressed in only the most expensive lingerie.

Bakugou’s greedy eyes would trail over the skin exposed along with how well the lingerie filled out your bodies’ natural curves. The cups of your lace bras framed your breasts so nicely, and he could only imagine what the back looked like. Sitting on the floor by the couch was a bucket where a bottle of champagne and glasses sat, giving him the impression that tonight really was for celebrating…as if seeing you and your friend decked in lingerie wasn’t an indication enough.

You smiled at him as he stood there frozen on the threshold of the bedroom. “Happy birthday, baby,” you’d purr. “Well? You gonna just stand there or are you gonna join us?”

Bakugou wouldn’t need to be told twice. The door would be closed and his shoes would be off immediately before he rushed to join you on the couch like he had lit his ass on fire.

The rest of the night would play in flashes of ecstasy as a surprise after surprise unfolded:

You and your friend would sit Bakugou down between you with a glass of chilled champagne and ask him if he wanted this, only moving forward when he gave you an enthusiastic growl of “fuck yes”.

After giving each other a look of pure excitement over finally getting the pro out of his clothes, you and your friend would strip Bakugou out of his clothes, giggling at his sharp intakes of breath and swearing. “Someone’s excited,” you’d coo into his ear, grinning at the way he shivered.

“You shittin’ me?” he’d growl as he watched your friend’s soft hands that looked so small compared to his unbuckle his belt. “I’ve got two of the prettiest women in my bedroom right now. Who the fuck wouldn’t be excited?”

Once you’d get him out of his clothes, you’d watch your friend admire his muscled body like he is carved from granite stone. You wouldn’t blame her, especially with the way the silver moonlight would shine through the window and illuminate your boyfriend’s mouthwatering six-pack and the dragon tattoo crawling up his right ribcage. His thick, muscular thighs would be spread, giving both of you girls a good peek at the outline of his dick in his designer briefs.

Seeing your friend stare Bakugou down like he was a masterpiece would turn you on more than you believed. Your pussy would gush knowing that the same man that is yours is so wanted by everyone else. It would turn you on even more to see Bakugou stare her down with the same lust–filled stare, the act of sharing him with another person arousing you further.

“Go on,” you’d encourage your friend. “Touch him.” She’d give you an uncertain stare before Bakugou would lean back against the couch, allowing her perfect access to his body. You and your friend would then run your hands all over him–up and down his abs, over his biceps, caressing his warm skin. The low moans of appreciation Bakugou would make at feeling hands all over him would work their magic on both of you, filling you with anticipation and need.

However, Bakugou was a greedy man, and he’d try to touch both of your asses looking so plump and full in your thongs. You and your friend would then make it very clear that you both are in control and not him by slapping his hands away when he tried to touch you.

“Uh-uh, baby,” you’d purr, smiling sexily at his irritated scowl. “No touching…not yet. You’re ours right now, so just sit there and take what we give you like a good boy.”

And shockingly enough, Bakugou would listen, too turned on to fuss. He’d do nothing but watch as you and your friend’s hands would caress his hardened bulge in his briefs, your lips on his neck; his chest; behind his ear. “That’s his sweet spot,” you’d whisper to your friend, giggling at your boyfriend’s soft gasp as you squeezed his shaft in his briefs.

After some teasing and earning a wet spot at the tip of his dick, you and your friend would finally pull down his briefs. Like a sexy Jack-in-the-box, Bakugou’s cock would finally spring free–thick, long, curved, veiny, and so, so fucking hard. Your friend would stare wide-eyed at it before cooing to Bakugou, “You have a beautiful dick, Dynamight.”

“Bet you wanna taste it,” you’d giggle. “That’s what these are for: to make it sweeter.” You’d then reach down into the chilled champagne bucket where you’d present a bottle of chocolate syrup and a can of whipped cream to Bakugou. He’d stare down at the goodies, perplexed. “Da fuck are those for?” he’d ask.

“For you, silly,” you’d giggle as your friend excitedly clapped her hands. “C’mon, you’ll love it!” Bakugou continued to stare down at the condiments fit for ice cream. “It’s part of your surprise, babe,” you’d coo before pecking his lips. “Let us show you.”

After coaxing him to sit back and enjoy his champagne, you and your friend would proceed to squirt chocolate syrup and whipped cream along his dick, giggling at the way he’d shiver at the coolness of the continents hitting his skin. “Don’t get any of this shit on my floor,” he’d growl. “Otherwise, you’re both gettin’ punished.”

You and your friend would share a mischievous look before you’d look up at him, batting your lashes. “Is that a promise, daddy?” you’d purr before giving the tip of his dick a lick. The sugary scents of whipped cream and chocolate would hit your nose as the sweetness of both condiments hit your tastebuds. Bakugou sighed at the feeling.

Two sets of wet hands would then wrap around Bakugou’s dick, stroking him up and down, the tender skin of his shaft moving along with your hands and smearing the sugary-sweet continents around his shaft. He’d groan and moan at the feeling of your soft little hands on him, his head tilted back against the couch and eyes closed.

After warming up, you and your friend would each share a turn with your mouths on his cock–sucking, licking, and slurping up the whipped cream, syrup, and precum bubbling at the head. Bakugou would stare at your two pretty mouths slurping up his dick, tongues sensually caressing the head and shaft, through hooded, red slits.

“You both look so beautiful,” he’d whisper breathlessly, chest heaving rapidly and slowly losing it at seeing you both on your knees, chocolate and cream all over your mouths and lips.

You smile up at him in thanks before taking his balls coated in whipped cream into his mouth, lightly sucking on each as your friend licked and sucked along the bulbous head of his cock. “You taste so good, baby,” you’d moan through his balls in his mouth. “Even without the chocolate or the cream.” Bakugou’s toes would curl and his moans would be loud, echoing along the bedroom walls.

You’d later go further and have him in your throat, gagging along the head, dribbling saliva down to his balls that your friend would generously fondle as you deepthroated him. “Doesn’t she look so good, Dynamight?” she’d purr. “Doesn’t your girl look so nice with your cock in her throat?”

Then it’d be her turn. You’d teach her how to slowly take him into her mouth before gagging on his cock shoved deep down her throat. You’d gently push her head down to take more of him, demanding that Bakugou watch another girl take your cock. “Watch her,” you’d whisper to him. “You think she’s better than me? Does her throat feel good, ‘Suki?”

Bakugou wouldn’t shut up, too deep in euphoria to silence himself. He’d be losing his shit when your friend finally popped off of his cock with a gasp, her mouth wet and dripping in spit and chocolate. You two would then proceed to kiss with his wet dick sandwiched between your mouths. There would be nothing but the lewd sound of breathless moans and wet slurps as you erotically made out, tongues swirling and soft lips caressing his shaft.

The erotic sight would be too much for him. “Gonna cum!” he’d warn you in a strained voice. “C-Can’t stop it! Gonna…ah!”

When he finally came, it’d be messy and quick, spurts of cum spilling out of his cock that would splash all over your hands and mouths. He’d sound straight out of a porno, his whimpers and grunts making your toes curl.

You and your friend would greedily slurp up his cum from your lips and lick it off your hands, giggling at how messy your man is. “Naughty boy,” you’d mockingly scold him. “You made such a mess!” Your hands and lips would be sticky with whipped cream, chocolate, and his cum–a yummy combination.

“Now you’re gonna have to be punished,” your friend would purr, helping you stand to your feet. Bakugou would stare up at the both of you, helpless and spent.

You’d then coax him up from the couch and lead him over to the king-sized bed where you’d already have the other half of his birthday surprise laid out for him on the black, satin sheets: strawberry-flavored, warming lube and his favorite glass buttplug would sit there, causing Bakugou’s eyes to widen when he realized what was happening.

You’d instruct him to lie down, giggling when he immediately gets onto his hands and knees, his plump ass from years of squats and training looking so appetizing. You and your friend would then climb onto the bed and take some time to warm Bakugou up. You’d graze your nails along his muscles; kiss his neck and lips; fondle his overly-sensitive balls.

Then you’d each squirt some lube onto your fingers before gently prepping and probing Bakugou’s tight, puckered hole, both of your pussies growing wet at the high-pitched whines and whimpers that would leave his pretty, pink lips. “Such a good boy,” you’d coo to him. “You’re doing so good for us, ‘Suki.”

Your friend would reach under to fondle Bakugou’s heavy balls as you slowly, gingerly, inserted the buttplug into Bakugou’s ass, moaning wantonly at his whines and pitiful moans. “God!” he’d shout, his usually raspy, deep voice going up several octaves than usual.

You and your friend who would take turns pumping the buttplug in and out of his tight hole, paying close attention to his body language when you brush against his prostate. You’d relish the way he’d writhe against the bedsheets, fisting them so hard that his knuckles turn stark white. His back would arch, pushing his ass up further, allowing you to plunge the plug deeper.

Then you’d switch, giving yourself a break and a chance for your friend to make him moan like a bitch in heat. You’d then wrap your hand around his cock and pump it, your hand slick with lube and Bakugou’s precum, as you press your lips against his ear. “Happy birthday, baby,” you’d whisper, nibbling at his earlobe.

The second orgasm would be messier than the first. Bakugou would be whining, begging, pleading either one of you for release. “T-Too much!” he’d sob into the mattress. “Please! Please just fuckin’ make me cum!”

Your friend would giggle giddily at the change in his demeanor, still fucking his asshole with the butt plug. “Alright, ‘Suki,” you’d coo to him. “It is your birthday, after all. So cum for us like a good little boy. You don’t wanna disappoint my friend, do you?”

As you’d cup his balls and turn your slow strokes into fast pumps, Bakugou wouldn’t be able to take so much stimulation and would cum all over your hand and the sheets below.

“Cumming!” he’d whine, a string of high-pitched moans and whimpers leaving his pillowy-soft, pink lips formed in an O. His pretty face would be screwed in ecstasy, cheeks red and eyes squeezed tight as his second orgasm hit him like a freight train.

You’d silently encourage your friend to continue to stroke his prostate as you slowed your handjob down, bringing him to the brink of insanity from the overstimulation. “No more!” he’d groan. “Too much! C-Can’t…can’t…!”

And you’d make him cum again, this one just as strong and as messy. Nut would paint the black sheets white, spurt all over your hand, and drip along his balls that would become sticky from it. Finally, you and your friend would stop, allowing the pro to recover. Seeing him so vulnerable, helpless, and spent would have your bodies beginning to be the vulnerable and helpless ones for a change.

Bakugou would have the same idea after you fetched him some water and laid his head in your lap while your friend stroked her fingers down his arms and legs. “That was…fuckin’ amazing,” he’d heave, making you both giggle.

“You did so well for us, baby,” you’d coo into his ear, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’m so happy you enjoyed your birthday.”

Bakugou would then sit up, his exhaustion gone and his personality flipping in a wink. He’d give you both a dark, devious, lust-filled stare that would have your hearts pounding and pussies wet, because you’d know what would come next. “It ain’t over yet,” he chuckled. “What, you thought tonight was over? After all, I’ve gotta enjoy my birthday gifts, don’t I?”

And then, in the blink of an eye, he’d be forcing you and your friend onto your backs, side by side, staring up into his vermillion eyes and mischievous grin. “So,” he’d huff, “you slutty girls wanna play with me, huh? Question is, who do I take first?”

A nervous smile would curl on your lips and you’d turn to your friend, sharing that same look of anxiousness and excitement. “Guess I’ll just have to take both of you then,” Bakguou would growl. “Teach you both a fuckin’ lesson for playin’ with me.”

And mind you, the butt plug would still be in his ass during all of this.

You’d barely of time to process what was happening before Bakugou is tossing your legs over his shoulders and plunging his tongue deep in your pussy while he stroked and petted your friend’s pussy. Her whines and moans would arouse you even more than Bakugou’s skillful mouth, causing you to gush all over his quick tongue that flicked over your clit. “‘S-Suki, please!” you’d beg. “Slow down!”

But he wouldn’t stop. He’d keep going until he brought the both of you to your first orgasms that you’d share in unison. “Cum for me,” he’d growl into your cunt. “Both of you sluts fuckin’ cum for me!”

And with a gasp followed by a moan of his name, you would. You’d burst all over the sheets and his mouth as your friend would cum all over his calloused fingers. After that first round, he’d switch. You’d then have his fingers toying with your needy little clit while his mouth was on your friend’s pussy, her legs spread wide for him and mouth open on a moan.

“Just look at your girl, babe,” he’d sadistically chuckle, staring down at your friend in her fucking world. “You been teaching her, haven’t you? Your slutiness rubbed off on her, didn’t it?”

His fingers would leave your clit to tweak at your nipple, pinching the hard peak until sparks filled your body. “Y-Yes, daddy,” you’d whine. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to give you a great birthday.”

Bakugou’s eyes would soften then, touched by your confession. “I know a way to thank you,” he’d growl before proceeding to rub your needy little clit to make you cum again as you tweaked your own nipples.

“Fuck, daddy, yes!” you’d practically scream as your friend moaned his name, cumming all over his mouth, lips, and stubbled chin, her hands in his platinum blonde hair.

You’d watch as she cums, noticing her body tensing and legs shaking as Bakugou continued to slurp up her cum, sounding and looking like a starving man. His back muscles would ripple as he spread your friend’s thighs open wider, licking her right from the source as she weakly moaned and whimpered, complaining that she was “so sensitive”. You’d be able to tell he was enjoying this, and that made you enjoy it too.

When he’d finally break away from your friend’s inner thighs, his lips, and chin would be shiny with her and your juices combined. He’d greedily lick his lips and suck his fingers, making your pussy impatiently clench around air despite just cumming. “Let’s say we play some more, hm?” he hums, smiling darkly at you.

You and your friend, exhausted and spent, would look at each other, slightly terrified. Would you even realize what you’d be getting yourselves into? The answer would be unknown, but the idea of that would make you hotter and desperate for whatever your man had in mind.

“What’d you have in mind, birthday boy?” you breathlessly asked, weakly sitting up to drag your nails up and down Bakugou’s thighs. Your friend would sit up too, making a move to touch him too, running her hands down his pectorals.

That question would result in your friend on her stomach with his cock stuffed deep inside of her, her ass bouncing in time with his thrusts. You’d be beside her, Bakugou’s fingers curled inside of your wet pussy, fingerfucking you as he fucked your friend into oblivion. Breathless huffs of “fuck, fuck, fuck” would leave Bakugou’s lips as he drove his cock into your friend, again and again again.

“Two pretty sluts for the price of one?” he’d huff, a crooked smile that drove you insane on his face. “Lucky me. It really must be my fuckin’ birthday.”

He’d then grab a fistful of your friend’s hair and wrench her head back, just enough for him to reach her ear. “How’s it feel to be fuckin’ with a pro, huh, baby?” he’d whisper into her ear, nibbling on her earlobe. Seeing him tease another woman opposite of you would make you clench harder around his fingers.

“S-so good, daddy!” your friend would moan, planting her face into the mattress. “Right there! Don’t stop!” You’d want to tell your man the same thing, but he didn’t seem like he was letting up any time soon. You’d bounce against the mattress in time with his thrusts, your tits bouncing and your mind going blank.

“Such a pretty girl you are,” Bakugou would grunt into your friend’s air. “Such a good girl to make me feel so good with your best friend.” His hand would then caress her ass before giving it a spank, making her whimper as the sharp sound of his hand against her asscheek filled the air.

“She planned this whole thing,” she’d whimper, staring at you with blissed-out tears in her eyes. “She really loves you, Dynamight. You should make her feel good, too.”

Bakugou would shoot you a lustful yet adoring look as he curled his fingers up into your G-spot, making your toes curl and your voice catch in your throat at the sheer pleasure. “Oh, I plan on it. But first, I’m making you cum all over my dick.”

And he would: after a few more merciless, precise thrusts, your friend would be creaming all over Bakugou’s cock the way he’d want her to. When he’d pull out, your friend’s cum would be dripping all over his balls and around his cock. “Clean it,” he’d growl to her to which she’d greedily move to slurp up every ounce of her cum off of his dick and balls. He’d reward her with an open-mouthed kiss.

And then it’d be your turn: you’d be on your back, legs spread wide and pussy on display for him. Before sliding inside, he’d first duck down to pepper your face in kisses and nose nuzzles. “Thank you for tonight,” he’d whisper against your sweaty brow. “You’re the best fuckin’ girlfriend in the fuckin’ world.”

Then, finally, he’d plunge his dick inside of you and begin to rock his hips into you, making you see stars. Beside you, your friend would lie, legs spread and moans bouncing off the walls as Bakugou plays with her pussy too. He wouldn’t let either one of you have a break. He’d continue to make you cum again and again until you were sobbing for him to stop, broken from the pleasure.

As he’d rut his hips into you, he’d torture you with his words as his cock abused your pussy oh-so-good.

“Who owns these fuckin’ pretty pussies?” he’d snarl. “Who’s gonna make you cum for the fourth fuckin’ time tonight?”

When neither one of you are fast enough with your response, he’d wrap a hand around your throat and smack your friend’s pussy. “Say it! Say my fuckin’ name!” he’d bellow, his rasped voice echoing off of his bedroom walls.

“You, Katsuki!” you’d sob as he pummeled into you, gasping around his hand encircling your throat. “You’re gonna make your good little sluts cum! Please, please make us cum, Daddy Dynamight!”

That would make something snap in Bakugou because suddenly, he’d begin pounding into your pussy so quick and so roughly that his thrusts would send your pussy into hyperdrive with how mercilessly he was grazing your G-spot. Your friend would be facing the same treatment as Bakugou would continue to fingerfuck her senseless, his thumb generously rubbing her clit to orgasm.

“Cum for me,” he’d demand. “Both of you be good girls for me and fuckin’ cum for me right now.”

And you would. You and your friend would once again cum in unison as you’d explode all over Bakugou’s fingers and cock. You’d cum so much that you’d cream all over the sheets, making a mess of yourself as you clenched around your boyfriend’s cock. “Fuck, you got so tight,” he’d moan appreciatively. “Gonna make me cum too.”

“Do it, daddy,” you’d beg. “Cum deep inside of me…but don’t forget to leave some for her.” Your friend would be there beside you, on her side and watching with astonishment as Bakugou pummeled into you again and again. You’d be grasping his shoulders for dear life as the bed springs bounced with how rough he was fucking you, still pummeling your G-spot and turning it to mush.

Finally, with a gasp, Bakugou would reach his peak. “Fuck!” he’d shout before he’d clench you to his body, his fingers digging into your hips, as he’d cum deep, deep inside of you.

He’d fill you to the brim with rope after rope of hot cum, giving you the impression that he’d been needing it. You would weakly moan at the warm feeling flooding your pussy before he slowly pulled out of you, making the cum drip down your ass crack.

“Still not done,” he’d grunt, pumping his wet cock in your face. He’d nod at your friend, crooking his finger in a “come hither” motion that seemed to drive you insane.

Though both of you would be exhausted from cumming back to back and having Bakugou put you through the wringer, like two greedy, cum-hungry whores, you’d be sitting on your knees in front of him, hands flat on your thighs and tongues out. Bakugou would pump his semi-hard dick in your faces until he finally had a second mini-orgasm, groaning as spurts of cum were pumped onto your faces and waiting, heated tongues. A delirious giggle would leave your lips as you felt the hot spurts of nut splatter onto your face, tongue, cheeks, and tits.

“Come here,” Bakugou would growl. “Both of you. Gimme those lips.”

He’d lean down to kiss you both, leading to a three-way kiss as his tongue swirled with both of yours. He’d moan appreciatively at the taste of his cum on your mouths, earning soft, breathy moans from you in response. It’d be one of the hottest kisses you’d ever had in your life.

Finally, after recovering from his orgasms, Bakugou would fetch you both some lavender-scented baby wipes which you’d gratefully use on your skin to wipe his cum off of your skin. Then he’d lie back against the pillows, abs, and flaccid cock on display for the both of you. He’d open his arms out, a crooked smile on his face. “What the fuck are you just sittin’ here for?” he’d ask. “Can’t end tonight without a three-way cuddle. Come here, girls.”

Though suddenly feeling shy despite just having a fucking threesome, you’d crawl to your boyfriend and curl up on one side while your friend would take the other. Bakugou would sigh contently as he’d lie sandwiched between you, your tits pushing into his sides. “That was fuckin’ amazing,” he’d laugh. “I’ve never cum that hard in my life!”

You and your friend would giggle in the quiet of your and Bakugou’s master bedroom. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you’d sigh, giddy with happiness at your plan being a success. “I certainly did.”

“Me too,” your friend would reply, suddenly appearing shy as she traced shapes over Bakugou’s chest.

“You know…if you’d ever want to do this again, I could definitely make a date for your next birthday, Dynamight.”

You and Bakugou would share a look, shocked at her suggestion, but also extremely turned on. You’d share a smile before he’d turn to her, gripping her closer by her waist. “Call me Katsuki,” he’d purr to her. “And who said we had to wait till my next birthday?”

“We have about two hours until midnight,” you said, looking at the clock. “Technically, your birthday isn’t done yet, ‘Suki.”

At your words, you’d feel Bakugou’s cock suddenly lurch back to life against your thigh, hardening at the base. He’d smirk at you both, causing a pool of heat to make its way back into your aching pussy.

“Round two, ladies?” he’d ask, taking a handful of each of your asses and squeezing them. “After someone gets this fuckin’ plug outta my ass.”

You and your friend would bust out in laughter, realizing that yes, that butt plug was still deep in Bakugou’s ass. “And after that, we can finally enjoy that birthday cake,” you cooed as you coaxed Bakugou onto his knees, moving to get some body oil to slick up your fingers.

“I’m kinda in the mood for some other birthday cake,” he’d growl before giving your ass a smack, once again making your pussy clench impatiently for more.

Hours later, you three wouldn’t be sleeping until dawn.

A birthday surprise (and threesome) gone right, indeed.

#bnha smut #smutty smut #my works #my fic shit #suki baby #black fanfic writer #bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #poly smut #18+ one shot #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x black reader

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teaberrii · 10 months ago

Text

Chapter 19: Something to Hide

After ending a five-year relationship, you pour all your energy into work. Your latest assignment? Staying at a popular bed-and-breakfast to gather information. It should be a piece of cake... If only the owner isn't the man you scolded on the street.

Jing Yuan/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

“Sounds like now isn’t a good time.”

He must've heard the overlapping conversations. You look over your shoulder where Yanqing is eating with the rest of the kids. You face forward and walk to a quieter part of the yard.

“What do you want?”

"A chat. One that will work to your advantage. I know all about your little detective games, but you should stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. It won't do you any good."

"I don't know how much you know," you say flatly. "But, it sure sounds like you're scared of us finding out more, which means you have a lot to hide, don't you?"

He quietly scoffs. "As I said, let's have a chat… and you'll see why. It's about your dear 'ol Jing Yuan. Tell me... How much has he really told you about himself?"

This man’s bluffing. He’ll say anything and everything just to get the upper hand. You should know after all that you found out.

“You haven’t known each other for very long,” he continues.

Someone tugs at your shirt, and you look down and see Yanqing.

“...I'll give you until tonight to think about it.”

Then, the line goes dead.

You lift the phone away from your ear, and then Yanqing asks:

“Who was that?”

You give him a small, tight smile as you slip your phone into your pocket. “No one. Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh… Okay. Well, I saved you some food!”

You follow Yanqing back to the table, determined not to let the conversation get the best of you. But you can still hear that man’s voice in the back of your mind:

“...Tell me... How much has he really told you about himself?”

You’re eating the food Yanqing got you when one of the moms comes up beside you. “I’ve never seen you around here before… Where are you from?”

“The city.”

You’re about to take a bite of a mini bread roll when she asks, “Is that where you met Jing Yuan?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Oh, well, it’s just… he met his ex-wife in the city through a mutual friend. I was so shocked it didn’t work out. They were such a loving couple, and��”

“You seem to be very interested in his life.”

"Ah, well…" You know she's uncomfortable when she breaks the awkward eye contact. "He seems like a great guy, and—"

"He is."

"Oh, I didn't mean that he wasn't! We were classmates, you know. We pretty much grew up together. And I just..." She gets the hint when you go back to eating your food without even looking at her anymore. You hear her walk away, and then you take a bite of your food.

“Hey.” Seels walks up to you with a small plate of her own. “Hope you still have some of your sanity left.”

“I’d rather deal with the kids than the parents if I’m being honest,” you mutter.

Seele chuckles. “Pros and cons to both.” She subtly nods at the woman who has just spoken to you. “Was she asking you about Jing Yuan?”

“How did you know?”

"She likes to brag that she was classmates with him. Weird flex, considering he's not a celebrity, and all of us pretty much know him."

“Yeah, well, it’s cause he’s rich.” You turn to the other side and see Bronya sipping orange juice from a wine glass. “Don’t judge.”

“Where can I get one?”

Bronya chuckles. “Comin’ right up.” She puts her glass on the counter.

"I want one, too," Seele says.

Just then, you feel your phone buzz inside your pocket.

General: I’m on my way.

"Jing Yuan's coming?" Seele asks just as Bronya returns with two wine glasses and a tub of orange juice.

“Yeah.”

“Well, the man’s got fifteen minutes before the party’s officially over,” Bronya says, filling the glasses.

Once she passes you a glass, you ask, “Do you mind if I ask how the two of you met?”

"We were at the same orphanage." Well, you aren't expecting that. "We met when we were like… seven in Xianzhou. Got adopted by different families."

"We went our separate ways for years before we somehow ended up working at the same company together," Seele says.

“That definitely sounds like fate,” you say.

“We didn’t know at first,” Bronya says, chuckling. “We even got off on the wrong foot.”

"She accused me of the one stealing snacks from the lounge." Seele rolls her eyes. "Proved my innocence later by presenting evidence."

“How did you two end up back here?”

"We were caught up in the massive layoffs that one year." Bronya finishes her orange juice. "The job market was hell on earth, and after months of looking we just… stopped."

“To clarify, we thought that taking a mental break would help us get our energy back,” Seele says. “So, we came up here for vacation. Loved it. And thought…”

“Hey, why don’t we start a business together?”

“And that’s how we started a mechanic business.”

“Just like that?" you ask. "Wow. What a jump! From corporate to mechanic.”

"I work on the vehicles," Bronya says. Then, she nods toward Seele. "She does all the business and administrative stuff. It really was an interesting jump," Bronya says, "but it was related. Our last job was with a company producing electric cars."

“Still…” You and Bronya turn to Seele who’s looking at the counter. “There are times when I miss the corporate life though.”

“I called her crazy,” Bronya whispers to you. “There’s so much freedom in running your own business and doing your own thing.”

"I never said it was bad," Seele says. "Just… It felt pretty daunting in the beginning. But after things settled down, we adopted Clara, and continued hustling from there."

"Um… How did you cope with that, if I may ask? You know... the insecurity and uncertainty in the beginning?"

Bronya looks at you curiously, but it's Seele who asks, "Is this just out of curiosity or are you looking for advice?"

The sound of the doorbell echoes throughout the house.

"That must be our guest of honour," Bronya says loudly. "Didn't all you people want to see Jing Yuan?"

Some kids and parents follow Seele to the door.

As soon as she opens the door, she says, “Good to see you, Jing Yuan.”

“I hope I’m not too late.” He holds up a small present. “I thought Clara might like this.”

“Dad!”

“Hi, Jing Yuan!”

You watch as some kids surround him like he’s a celebrity. He affectionately ruffles Yanqing's hair and politely greets everyone else before his eyes land on you.

Seele gestures for Clara to come up. "Come look at what Uncle Jing Yuan got you, Clara."

Jing Yuan crouches as Clara shyly walks up to him. “U-Um, hello.”

“Happy birthday, Clara.”

She takes the gift with both hands and says, “T-Thank you.”

"Why are you suddenly so shy?" Seele asks, putting her hand on Clara's shoulder. "You've seen him plenty of times."

Clara looks up at her mom and quietly says, “...But not this close.”

Seele laughs. “And what does he look like up close?”

Clara is looking down when she quietly says, “...Handsome.” Then, she quickly runs off with some of the kids, including Yanqing, running after her.

Jing Yuan stands as Seele says, “Thanks for the gift.” She laughs. “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

Everyone else starts walking back into the living room, but Jing Yuan walks with you. You’re itching to bring up what Caelus’s uncle said to you, but now isn’t the time nor the place. So, you do your best to shrug off the thought before it eats you alive.

◆◆◆

“He wouldn’t kill someone.” March scrolls to the next page and continues her dramatic reading of Welt’s manuscript. “I’ve known him far longer than you have, my dear. The detective that you’ve grown to love… Has a dark side eating away at him every. Single. Day…” She looks up. “The periods really give it that extra oomph.”

The trio are sitting in their cabin living room, taking a rest day as it's forecasted to rain. Almost thirty minutes ago, it had been just March and Dan Feng. They were playing a board game as their friends were holed up in their rooms. Welt—with his laptop—was the first to emerge from his den and had asked his friends to read the latest plot twist in his novel.

"So, what comes next?" Dan Feng asks. "Don't tell me our Ms. Femme Fatale is just going to leave our ace detective after all they've been through."

“Yeah, don’t leave us hanging, Welt!”

Welt takes his laptop from March and puts it on the table. “The story will get there.”

Dan Feng has a little smile when he asks, "Is that code for 'Sorry, guys. I have no idea what's next. Still figuring that out?"

“No spoilers.”

"Whatever it is… I just need a happy ending!" Then, March sees Dan Heng coming downstairs. "Look who decided to come out of hibernation. What have you been doing all morning?"

“...Researching schools.”

Welt and March glance at each other before looking at Dan Feng. Ever since lunch with you and Jing Yuan, March hasn’t seen the brothers talk. When Welt noticed something was wrong, March explained what had happened.

"Have you decided on one?" Then, Dan Heng says the name of the most prestigious university in the nation. "Why am I not surprised?" March asks.

“Go big or go home,” Welt adds. “But, they’d be crazy not to take you.”

"I've already started my application," Dan Heng says, opening the fridge to grab a bottle of water. "Hopefully, I can make it for their winter semester."

Dan Heng has just closed the fridge when his brother asks:

"How long is the program?"

Silence.

He looks around the room. "What? Everyone else is allowed to ask questions but me?"

“Two years, part-time. One year, full-time.” Dan Heng walks over. “...Is there a date for your surgery?”

“It’d be around the same time you start your semester… if you get in.”

March sighs. “Why can’t you two just hug it out like real men?”

“Oh, I don’t know, March. Maybe it’s cause my brother has cooties.”

Dan Heng sits next to Welt. “...What’s going on between you two?”

March and Dan Feng look at each other. “What do you mean?” she asks.

Welt closes his laptop. "I sensed it, too. Something seems… different about you two."

“Oh, I get it.” March’s quick laugh turns into a deadpan look. “I might’ve gotten a few wrinkles because this guy”—she hits Dan Feng’s leg—”is like an adult child who can’t take care of himself.”

“Me? Are you sure you’re not talking about yourself?”

Dan Heng sighs. “Why can’t you two just hug it out like a real couple?”

March and Dan Feng turn to him with an appalled look.

“Why is your face turning red, March?” Welt asks.

"It's not!"

Dan Heng and Welt smile at each other.

Then, March quickly stands. "...I'm going out to buy some drinks before it really starts to pour." She walks beside Welt. "Come with me."

“Me? Uh, okay.” Welt stands and looks at the brothers. “Want us to get you anything?”

“Skittles frappucinno.”

March looks slightly disgusted at Dan Feng's request. "What in the world is that? Sounds like diabetes in a cup."

“It’s you if you were a drink.”

“...Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Welt asks quietly.

“Anything for the cooler brother?” March asks, looking at Dan Heng and Dan Feng almost rolls his eyes.

“I’m good.”

“Well, shoot a text if you want us to get you anything.”

Then, Welt and March are out the door.

After a short silence, Dan Heng says, “...I understand why you’re upset. I would be, too, but—”

“I get it.” Dan Feng isn’t looking at his brother. “I’d hate it if you forced yourself to do something you don’t want to do. Everyone suffers that way.” A small pause. “...I’ll cheer you on.”

“...And I’ll do the same for you.”

“Cheer me on for what? Recovery?” Dan Feng waves his hand dismissively. “If you’re going to do that, might as well be my butler while I recover.”

“Are you sure you don’t want that job to go to March?”

“Listen, that girl will probably be flying to a different country this same time next year.”

“...Is that why you want to stay friends with her?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Dan Heng says as his brother looks away. Then, Dan Heng stands. “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.” He walks to the kitchen but stops halfway and looks over his shoulder. “...I know you aren’t looking for advice, but I’m going to say it for March’s sake. Talk to her. At least, there’ll be no misunderstandings.”

Dan Heng knows his brother likes to poke fun at his advice, but this time he remains silent.

◆◆◆

Yanqing is asleep in the backseat when Jing Yuan is driving back to the bed and breakfast.

“...Caelus’s uncle called me today,” you say, after making sure Yanqing’s still asleep.

“What did he want?”

“A chat. He didn’t go into details… No surprise there. But, he mentioned you.” A small pause. “...He asked me how well I really knew you, and how much you told me about yourself.”

You don’t know, but there’s a quiet anger that’s bubbling beneath Jing Yuan’s calm exterior. Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised that Caelus’s uncle is trying to interfere with his relationship.

“I obviously know better than to just believe him, but I admit it’s been bothering me and…”

“...It’s what he wants.” Jing Yuan takes your hand that’s resting on your lap. “...And, I think I know what he’s going to say.”

You turn to him, surprised. Hang on. Does this mean there is a secret? Neither of you gets a chance to say anything when Yanqing yawns.

“What did I miss?” he asks sleepily.

“Nothing.”

Yanqing looks from you to Jing Yuan but doesn’t say anything and looks out the window. Then, your phone buzzes, and you pull it out.

Have you decided?

You glance at Jing Yuan, and then another message comes.

Time's ticking.

You had to resist blocking this number.

“This is getting fucking ridiculous,” you mutter.

“What is it?”

Jing Yuan pulls up to the bed and breakfast, and Yanqing asks, “Are we walking Mom back?”

You turn around and put on your best smile. “Shall we go?”

Once Jing Yuan parks the car and all of you step out, Yanqing goes on ahead. You quickly show Jing Yuan the ominous text, and he says:

“...I’m going to call him.”

There’s an anger in his voice that you cannot explain. A lion ready to pounce. A dragon awakening. Whatever it is, it’s reflected in his glare.

It doesn’t take long for the line to go through.

“What’s taking so long?” You quickly walk up to Yanqing, preventing him from getting close enough to hear the heated conversation. “...Why does Dad look so angry?”

You crouch and gently turn Yanqing’s head toward you. “Don’t worry. He’s dealing with a customer.”

“O-Oh…”

“Everything will be fine. Trust Mom, okay?”

Yanqing slowly nods and hugs you.

When you hear footsteps approaching you, you turn and see Jing Yuan. But, another voice comes:

“Yanqing.”

You stand upright as Jing Yuan’s ex and her fianceé walk up to you. Yanqing looks from his birth mother to you and back to her.

Her fianceé looks at Jing Yuan. “...Wasn't expecting to see you here, but thanks for taking care of that problem earlier.”

Problem?

You turn to him, and Jing Yuan says, “A guest was causing issues for everyone else.”

Then, his ex looks at you. “...Has he contacted you yet?”

"So, you were the one who gave him my number," you say flatly.

“Wow. What’s going on?” March and Welt are walking together, and as they get closer, you see Welt carrying a small bag of drinks. “This can’t be a family outing, right?”

"What did he want with you?" Jing Yuan asks his ex. "...Just her number?"

March and Welt glance at each other, and then she leans over. “Hey, Yanqing, let’s leave them with the boring adult talk.” She reaches into the bag and pulls out a snack. “Let’s eat on our way back.”

Yanqing runs to March and says, “Oh, but I’m not hungry. I just came from a birthday party.” “A birthday party? Whose?”

March and Yanqing start walking ahead, and Welt follows close behind.

Jing Yuan’s ex looks at him. “Yes. That was all he asked about.”

“...Why are you asking?”

Her fianceé had just come out of the bathroom, and he saw her on the phone.

“We’re on the same side,” Caelus’s uncle said.

She knew it was a dumb question, but she still had to ask:

“What are you going to do?”

“Is it just me, or does it sound like you’re worried about your ex’s girlfriend? That’s a rare sight amongst women.” Then, a soft chuckle. “I’m not going to do anything to her if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m going to put an end to this once and for all.”

By turning you against Jing Yuan?

Jing Yuan has the same thoughts when he says, "He's threatening me and aiming to put her in a difficult position." Then, his sharp gaze lands on his ex. “He’s also going to get you involved.”

“Me…? With what? What could he possibly threaten you with? Don’t tell me it has something to do with Yanqing.”

“No.” Jing Yuan looks at her. “And for Yanqing’s sake, you won’t go along with whatever he says because it’ll end up destroying all of us.”

You slide your hand in his, and Jing Yuan turns to you. It’s written all over your face. Worry. Frustration. Confusion. Only he has the answers, and as much as he doesn’t want to hide anything from you, a part of him is afraid of what you will think after he tells you more about his past. Will you blame him just like he once blamed himself? Will you turn your back on him and walk away?

“I heard my name.”

“Geez, Yanqing,” you hear March say as she runs towards the group. “Don’t go running off like that!” Welt is walking behind her.

“They're too slow!” Yanqing turns toward his dad. “What are you talking about?”

You and Jing Yuan glance at each other, and then you say, “We... were talking about how we’re going to take you on vacation with us. March was the one who suggested it.”

March points to herself with mild confusion.

Jing Yuan nods. “It got postponed because Dan Feng went to see Luocha about his shoulder.”

“Ah!" March makes a fist and hits it against her palm. "Yeah, that’s right.”

Yanqing looks from March to Jing Yuan and then to you. “...A vacation? Really?”

“You don’t believe us?” you ask.

“It didn’t sound like you were talking about a vacation.”

The fianceé sighs. “It’s because we wanted to spend time with you.”

You and Jing Yuan turn to him, surprised that he’s playing along.

“...That’s right,” the ex adds. She crouches and puts her hands on her son’s shoulders. “...I miss you, Yanqing. I miss spending time with you.”

He steps back, and the hurt is obvious on her face. But, it’s only for a moment.

“...You're just saying that to get me to go back to the city. But, I don’t want to go back,” he says, not looking at her. “Not forever.”

She exhales softly and asks, “...Are you happy, Yanqing? Are you happy with Jing Yuan and…” She looks at you. “...Her?”

"Yes!" A small pause. “You keep saying that you want to keep me in the city because of my future… but I’m happy right now.”

“...While it’s important to think about the future, it’s just as if not more important to cherish the present.”

March gently nudges Welt. “Stop trynna act all philosophical.”

Jing Yuan’s ex sighs. “...Alright. I understand. But, if you ever change your mind… you know that Mom’s door is always open." A small pause. "Can I get a hug?”

Yanqing takes one step forward, hesitates for a moment, but then walks up and hugs her.

“Is it just me, or did this turn in a direction we never saw coming?” March asks quietly.

“...Just let it be,” you whisper, and Jing Yuan nods.

Eventually, you, Jing Yuan, and Yanqing are walking together towards your cabin. Occasionally, Yanqing runs ahead, leaving you and Jing Yuan at the back.

Jing Yuan’s hand finds yours, and as you turn to him, he says:

“...About what I said earlier, Caelus’s uncle wants you to pick a side."

Your breath gets caught in your throat, and you tighten your grip around his hand. “About that… You said earlier that he’s going to try to put me in a difficult position. What… What did you mean? What’s going on?”

“...Before I left my position as Director, I had a friend interested in taking over my position.”

Jing Yuan and his friend from university were finally catching up on life. His friend had invited him over, and the two men were currently seated adjacent to each other. But what Jing Yuan thought was a reunion between two friends quickly turned into a conversation that would haunt him.

“...So, you’re leaving your company,” he said.

“That’s right.”

His friend cleared his throat. “Have they decided on who’s going to take your place?” He awkwardly scratched his head. " I’m actually looking for another job, and, well…” He didn’t need to go on for Jing Yuan to know where this was going. “...Okay, I’m just going to say it. Could you, well, could you refer and put in a good word for me? That’s allowed, right? Because…”

The rest fell on deaf ears as his friend rambled on and on about how he needed this job, but Jing Yuan didn’t need to hear more because…

“You wouldn’t want to be there.”

His friend stopped talking. “Why not?”

Jing Yuan sighed. “It’s… not as clean as you’d think if you know what I mean.”

“...Are people making up numbers or something?” Then, he lowered his voice. “Is the company losing money? Is that the real reason why you’re leaving?”

“No,” Jing Yuan answered flatly. “There are practices that you wouldn’t want to abide by.”

“...Please, Jing Yuan.” This was a response that Jing Yuan wasn’t expecting. “I… could really use the help.”

Your heart is slowly sinking to your stomach as you listen.

“...I told him the consequences,” Jing Yuan says. “But, he was desperate because of his family’s financial situation.”

“Did you refer him?”

Your phone buzzes. You and Jing Yuan glance at each other before you take out your phone. It buzzes again. Now, you have a message from Kafka and Herta with the same worrying content:

CEO of The Knights B&B accused of ruining a man’s life nearly a decade later

Chapter 20

End notes:

We've finally reached the climax. I was going to end this with a cute little scene where Jing Yuan asks Yanqing if he wants to give you a goodnight kiss. But I decided on this instead.

I think I should just make the grand finalé with someone giving Caelus's uncle a good 'ol punch to the face. Man gets arrested and call it a day LOL

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @immahuman @queencybow @nqctre @grimreapersscythe @winterpein @asakenajustexistshere @sunsethw4

#jingyuan x reader #jing yuan x y/n #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x reader #honkai jing yuan #hsr jing yuan

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duplicitywrites · 2 years ago

Text

Cindle (@cindle-writes) is someone I cannot say enough lovely things about! I want to give a special thank you to Cindle for all of her amazing Mutuals March posts with this shoutout dedicated especially to her. 💜

I think it's safe to say Cindle has quickly established herself as a pillar of the Tomarrymort community, whether it be to cheerlead, beta, or simply enable those in our little corner of fandom. Not only that, Cindle consistently writes some of the most amazing fics in a wide range of characters, ships, and tropes -- providing us with delicious smut that often includes an amazing plot twist as the cherry on top!

Long story short, Cindle never ceases to amaze me with her dedication to this fandom, both as a talented author and a supportive friend. Her enthusiasm makes this space a better one!

Cindle, thank you for all that you do! We appreciate you so very much. 💜🛐 To celebrate you, here are a few favourite works of yours chosen by some of your friends!

☪ complete (Tom / Harry) E | 8.7k | Complete | Underage

Everything about this fic is perfect! There are so many yummy angst pieces of young Tom’s sad orphan backstory that are reflected in his (manipulative) interactions with Harry, and it meshes so beautifully with Harry's initial polite treatment of him as they get to know each other. Of course, the 'strangers' aspect speedruns right into 'lovers' once Harry realizes his newly-adopted baby Dark Lord is actually an omega. The ensuing smut is 👏🏼🥵🔥💯😈 !! I go absolutely feral for this dynamic and this fic delivers on every count.

☪ dawn of a death of a dream (Tom / Harry) E | 53.8k | On-Going | No Archive Warnings Apply

This story demonstrates just how patient a young Tom Riddle was when it came to achieving his goals, and I just love how even with Harry being so certain Tom manages to capture him in his own messy web. We get mind games between enemies who often forget they are enemies, and allow their positive feelings for each other to shine through in a bid to trap the other using their intimate relationship. So fun & silly & WAIT WHAT?? 💜💜💜 ( this blurb written by Apples! 🍎)

☪ Everything Green Is Gold (Tom / Harry) E | 21.3k | On-Going | Underage

BABY HARRY BELOVED! Professor Riddle takes first year Harry under his wing and teaches him sooo many things 😏🍆. Cindle really outdid herself on this story -- Tom is super manipulative with everything he does, but he is also so attentive with Harry in the process that even though we know what's happening, we're liable to... forget. Just a little 🤏. A million kudos for such a hot and realistic depiction 🔥!!

☪ in bad faith (Voldemort / Harry, Cedric / Harry) E | 2.9k | Complete | Non-Con, Underage

This fic builds on an already fantastic premise -- an AU of GoF where Voldemort captures Cedric (and Harry!) -- and expands it to include even more angst! The smut is delicious and the plot twist at the end had me going insane. Without spoiling too much, I will say I love the aspects of the original dynamic surrounding Cedric, Harry, and Voldemort that are incorporated into this glorious mindfuck continuation.

☪ i’ve missed you, my boy (Tom / Harry) E | 1.9k | Complete | Underage

One of the BEST plot twists I have ever read! Harry’s complex relationship with Voldemort is done so well in this post-war AU. I don’t want to spoil anything, but the reread value of this fic is incredible -- in the brief span of a few thousand words, we get so much character insight and build up to a truly incredible reveal. It is a delight going back and picking out all the details that lends to just how deeply messed up and multilayered this relationship is!

☪ last rites (Scarcrux / Harry) E | 5.1k | Complete | Major Character Death

Such a HOT fic. Scarcrux knows all of Harry's deepest, darkest secrets -- including just how he likes to get off. Watching Harry's resistance crumble in the face of Tom's careful seduction is one of my favourite dynamics in this ship! And BOTTOM TOM is the whipped cream hat on this perfect PWP parfait. 💜🔥 We deserve more fics like this one, where Tom gets what he wants!

☪ the dark passenger (Al / Harry, Tom / Harry) E | 5k | Complete | Non-Con, Underage

Cindle's next-gen writing is a huge part of why I have any interest at all in those characters, and this story is a great example of why! In this fic, we navigate Al's co-dependent relationship with Harry as his loving father and (though he doesn't know it!) his fated enemy. The merging of Al and Tom's personalities is so well done and elevates both ship aspects of the story, as well as seeing Harry through the lens of Al-with-Tom, in such a unique way!

#tomarry #harrymort #tomarrymort #fic rec

108 notes · View notes

silverstonesainz-archive · 2 years ago

Note

🫧 carlos & proposing to you <33

finally cracking down on the last of the celebration requests lol so sorry but here it is. carlos can go one of two ways. the proposal is super grand or super simple. he's a versatile man like that. so we will talk about both.

the big grand proposal:

carlos would organize a whole trip to the maldives. it was the first time you both had met, both being there on a trip organized by a mutual friends.

he'd been antsy the whole trip, nit-picky and trying to make sure that every single detail was perfect. he was so visibly stressed you had to sit him down and talk to him.

"carlos what is going on with you? you're going crazy?" "i'm sorry amor, i just want this trip to be perfect."

halfway through the trip, he takes out out to dinner. he also convinces you that walking to the restaurant was the best option, so you guys do.

the restaurant is so beautiful, dimly lit, a romantic cliche. you can imagine.

but it was also empty, which was confusing.

you didn't notice, but carlos had let go of your hand, letting you walk further into the restaurant. he watched as you followed the bright lights outside of the restaurant, following close behind you.

lights, roses, soft sweet music playing in the background. you can feel your heart beating out of your chest.

and when you turn, carlos is already down on one knee with the velvet box in hand.

"we met three years ago, when i was in the height of my career. i was hungry, passionate, but missing something. and that was you. the last three years have been nothing short of amazing. you are my missing piece, the last piece of the puzzle. my life isn't complete without you in it. te casarías conmigo, y/n?"

and when you said yes, he was picking you up off the floor and spinning you around.

you kissed him, and as you do you hear cheers and applause coming from all around you.

carlos had flown in yours and his entire family and some close friends, to join you both in celebrating your engagement.

the simple proposal:

sunday, a morning without a race and carlos at home. it was a rare occurrence, so you try to cherish the time with him while you can.

there aren't many moments that carlos would be in bed beyond 9am, so you snuggle into his side.

he holds you close, kissing your forehead. "did you sleep okay?" "mhm."

its very light conversation, just about how you both wanted to spend the day together. "what ever you want stud, as long as i'm with you."

"what if we got married?"

your eyes grow wide, heart beating out of your chest. you sit up, eyeing him skeptically. there's a goofy grin on his face, excitement in his honey eyes as he awaits your response.

"are you serious?" "muy serio"

he sits up, turning to his night stand as he shuffles through the drawer. when he turns around, he has a black velvet box in hand. he opens it and holds the ring between his thumb and index finger.

"i've had this ring for a year. i've always known it was gonna be you, that you're the person i want to spend the rest of my life with. there's no one else. i had a whole plan set up, but laying here with you just felt right. i wanna marry you y/n. i don't need the big white wedding, the pompous and fanfare. i only want you. so what do you say? will you marry me?"

years in your eyes, nodding quickly as you cup his face to kiss him.

he slips the ring on your finger before giving you another kiss.

"te amo." "te amo mucho."

(and no you both didn't end up getting married that day. but later that week, with just you and your families, in the backyard of carlos's home)

#d's 2k sleepover!#carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #cs55 hc

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kurumeki · 11 months ago

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This will be long and personal, so you can feel free to scroll past it.

Good things of 2023:

Grandmother’s 80th birthday; we had a celebration in a restaurant with family and her friends. Almost 50 people!

Morrie’s live stream Flesh Odyssey at his birthday (4th March)

My best friend @vinidra visited in March and I remember getting wasted and listening to Black Sabbath and Def Leppard till 3am. And watching that one 1989 Aerosmith live! Wasn’t there Dir en grey stream on GALACAA? I think we got access from a friend and watched that too.

On April 1st Morrie’s fan club Reveries opened on BitFan application – with foreign fans finally being able to join. It is a pricey affair, but the consistency and amount of content he brings every single day is so worth it. I love being a Reverie and having near direct contact with Morrie and the fans. So grateful for this community.

Right after Easter, on April 12th, we got BUCK-TICK’s new album. No one would predict it would be the last release before Sakurai passing away… It’s a solid record and ワルキューレの騎行 will forever be one of my favourite songs.

April was such a good month for me – on 18th I got the news I got promoted to a team leader. So, following a big raise for 2022 performance, I got another big raise with role change. Feeling like I’m finally getting the money I deserve for my hard work. The role is difficult and very challenging, but also satisfying and I enjoy what I do. It helped me a lot with improving my communication skills, standing up for myself and feeling confident with my decisions.

End of April was my friend Karin visiting, we went to Metallica symphonic concert in philharmonic and had amazing time overall during the long May weekend.

In May I came out to my co-workers and I was met with so much support I’m still overwhelmed. Being able to feel like I can be 100% myself at work is amazing. You don’t realise you need it until you get this freedom.

May 23rd was Boris live in Warsaw. I reconnected with an old friend and had amazing time with him during the gig. The show itself was everything I ever wanted from Boris – perfectly heavy and fast. Being front row surely contributed to that. My mission was to wait for the band after the show and talk to Atsuo and I succeeded! Got a picture with the band ant all. All possible thanks to a mutual friend of the band and mine.

May 31st – Def Leppard and Motley Crue in Krakow! Again hanging out with @vinidra and his friend. The show… let’s say Motley Crue was meh, though visual and female dancers were incredible. But Def Leppard was there to save the night, it was incredible and I had so so so much fun! Can’t wait to see them again live.

In June I visited Karin in Krynica Morska. It’s a very thin piece of land with sea at one side and huge lake on the other. I loved the beach walks there and hearing the waves at night, when falling asleep.

Also in June my close friend had a major surgery. So brave of her to decide to undergo it and I’m even more happy that she’s made steady recovery, now having no regrets.

June 20th was the day Josh Kiszka of Greta Van Fleet came out! I’m always happy learning that musicians I love are just as queer as me.

And by end of June DEAD END has re-issued all four albums from 80s: DEAD LINE, Ghost Of Romance, shambara and ZERO. Got them all, in true collector spirit.

July 21st Greta Van Fleet released a new album. I wasn’t stoked about it at first but of course – the more I listened to it, the more I fell in love with it. It’s probably my favourite album of the year.

I didn’t do anything special for my birthday on August 12th, but the following week I was flying to Cologne for a week to stay with my best friend. We did a lot of furniture and home decor shopping for the new house she moved into. We went to cinema to see Metallica’s live stream, and otherwise just had good time being lazy. Oh! And I helped her pick out and buy her first guitar. Love the visit in huge 4-story music shop in Cologne.

In September I’ve volunteered to take dogs from a shelter for walks for a day. I want to do it again.

On September 27th Morrie released another solo album Solitudes I. I feel like I didn’t listen to it enough this year, but this is miles better than Ballad D to me.

October 15th was election day in Poland and this was incredible – how many people showed up. For the first time I had to stand in the queue to vote. And we won. Fascist right wing government was overthrown. I have some home things will finally get better in my country.

Fast forward to November 5th – after a lot of trouble I made it to Hamburg and met with a friend I’ve know for years, but never had a chance to see in person. Had amazing time! It’s incredible to have such dedicated Morrie fan so close and be able to talk about music for couple of hours without feeling tired.

November 6th – I also finally met my close friend, we’ve never seen each other before. She’s such a lovely human being. She introduced me to Greta Van Fleet, so it felt only right to gift her a ticket to their show. The live was amazing, the most beautiful show I’ve ever been to. I will never get over how talented those young guys are.

From Nov 7th to 11th I was staying with my friend in Bielefeld. Met her cutest Siamese cat Bibi!

And last thing worth mentioning – I got the courage to go to company winter party and I actually had fun. I don’t remember when was the last time I simply wanted to have fun and when was the last time I danced. My whole body hurt after that night, but I really loved it. Oh, and I stole the neon flamingo lamp. Worth it.

#personal #i have a good life i think

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croimilis · 2 years ago

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The Arrangement

title: the arrangement

characters: bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x doctor!mitchell!reader (rooster calls them angel)

words: 20k +

themes: childhood friends to strangers to friends to lovers, fake dating (minor), fluff, , smut, mutual pinning, idiots not realising they’re in love

rating: 18+

warnings: female identifying reader and female anatomy used, mentions of parental and canon character death, panic attacks, fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex (p in v), rooster has a lieutenant kink, rooster in dress whites, praise kink, unprotected sex, scratching, biting, cream pie, overstimulation

summary: 'he laughed, my darling you will never be unloved by me you are too well tangled in my soul' @atticuspoetry

You and rooster made an arrangement when you were 18 years old, that if either of you needed a date to an event and you were both single you would be each others date, you try your best to be at every celebration and ceremony for your education and respective careers. you managed to keep this up for a while, but the life of a doctor and the life of a navy aviator never seem to line up and suddenly you find yourself not only cities but countries away from one another and the arrangement falls to the background of your minds that is until you move to San Diego and Rooster finds himself calling on your arrangement one last time.

a/n: this ended up being sooo long and i am (not) sorry about it, i got so carried away with it. also this is the dress i imagined when writing this. also, i don’t consistently refer to Rooster as Bradley or Rooster in this, it switches so often. i also apologise if the smut is bad, i don’t write it often. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT this is an 18+ piece, I will be checking blogs that interact so please have an age indicator somewhere on your blog. this is part of the ‘fly me to the moon universe’

Rooster was sure the world stopped the minute you walked through the doors behind your father, it had been over 10 years since he had last seen you and yet he knew it was you instantly. If anybody asked, he would say it was your eyes that gave you away as being (Y/N) Florence-Mitchell. The same emerald green as your father, full of life and happiness as they crinkled at the sides when you smiled at Penny across the bar, giving your soon to be step mother a wave as your father guided you through the crowd and straight towards the group of aviators that made up the dagger squadron.

Realising your destination, Rooster's heart began to beat erratically as he stood from his bent position where he had been planning on taking his shot at the pool table, causing a confused look and a 'dude' from Hangman. Out of all the ways he had imagined and dreamed about reuniting with you, he never would have imagined it happened in Fightertown, never mind at the Hard Deck.

Yet here you are, getting closer and closer and he swears his heart is gonna beat straight out of his chest. You're beautiful, you always had been but what had once been a soft and innocent beauty when you were younger and never knew a life without Bradley had turned into sharp edges and maturity as you found what it meant to be your own person without him. He was awestruck to put it lightly as his eyes stalked you through the bar until you were standing just at the other end of the pool table, Mavericks arm wrapped tightly around your shoulder as he made introductions.

“Everybody this is my daughter, Dr (Y/N) Florence-Mitchell.” With a smile you rolled your eyes at your father's insistence on using your title, he was very proud of everything you accomplished in your life and career and while he very rarely actually used the words ‘I’m proud of you’ he always made sure to show it when he showed you off to other people. “Please call me (Y/N/N)”

With pleasant smiles and shaking hands everyone introduced themselves, though you had heard about all of them so many times you were sure you could pick out each and everyone member of the dagger squad by name if you tried. Your eyes moved over them all the same as they introduced themselves, taking in their features and finally putting faces to names. Maverick was the absolute worst at having pictures on his phone, preferring to keep a hard copy of photos in his hanger and you were never around the hanger anymore, much to busy with your own life that you could only really talk to your father over the phone, especially considering he was usually on the other side of the country or world. But maybe now that dagger squad had become a permanent fixture at Top Gun for whenever they were needed and you had taken a job in San Diego (that Mav was still completely unaware of) you would see the old man a little more.

Your eyes finally made their way to the other side of the pool table where the WSO Bob sat with a small smile on his face as he introduced himself, finally your eyes met with Roosters and he swears he nearly melted at the sight, at the friendliness and tenderness towards him that remained after all these years, and your smile. God your smile still made him weak at the goddamn knees and he silently curses to himself about how you still have such an effect on him and how he should be over his silly childhood crush. “Bradley”

Walking around the pool table, Rooster gladly opens his arms for you as you unwrap your father from your shoulder and meet him in the middle, wrapping your arms around his torso as he wraps his around your shoulders, placing a kiss to your forehead as he does. It was comforting, to the both of you, it was something he always did before you grew apart, when you were still an everyday presence in each other's lives. You had missed it. It had been far too long since you had even spoken to each other, never mind seeing each other. “Hey angel.”

The familiarity of the nickname warms you from the inside, or maybe that was just the heavy radiating of Bradley as he held you in his arms. Or maybe it was the flush slowly spreading up your body and making its way to your face as you relish in how nice it feels to be held by him once again, or maybe it is because you're thinking about just how handsome Bradley had become since you last saw him.

He had always had a bit of boyish charm about him, that cheeky smile he usually sported that was so similar to that of his fathers always drew the ladies in when he was turned their way pair that with the fact that he was always athletic and fit and you had a deadly combination that turned Rooster into quite the heart throb when he was younger. But now, you swear he's never looked better, even as he sports that ridiculous mustache he started growing when he was in college, all rugged muscles and that same charming smile alongside the new air of confidence and maturity that was unrecognizable to you.

Never one to have a moment taken from him, the voice of Hangman forces the two of you to seperate, though you still stand close to one another. “How long you in town for?” With a gentle chuckle you cross yours arms over your chest and appraise but your father and Bradley before you answered, they both looked expectant. You had told your father you were in Fighter town for around 2 weeks but had yet to drop the bombshell that you were relocating to San Diego permanently.

“Well I’m in Fighter town for the next 2 weeks, staying at an air bnb close to the base.” You eyed your father as he sent you a small glare, he didn’t know you were coming and so he couldn’t insist on you staying with him and Penny and that was deliberate not only did you want to surprise him but you wanted your own space, somewhere you could retreat too if need be and have some time to yourself because you were sure that every moment he could your father would be at your side to make up for not only the time he missed as an adult but the time he missed out on when you were a kid. “But after that…I am permanently relocating to San Diego.”

You had to bite your lip to stop the giggle that tickled your throat as both Bradley and Maverick whipped their heads round to stare at you, mouths and eyes wide with shock. “(Y/N) (M/N) Florence-Mitchell!” You had to giggle at your dad’s tone as you turned to look at him with innocent eyes and a small smirk, “Yes?” Though Mav tried his hardest to look stern and serious, ready to scold you for not telling him, he can’t help but smile at the fact that you weren’t going to be so far away now.

“What?” Now you turned to Bradley, who’s shocked expression had lessened a little but you could tell from the pinch of his brows and the down turn of his lips that he was still confused. “I wanted to surprise my dad, that was the whole purpose of this trip. Safe to say I surprised him. But I uh, I got offered head of the ED and trauma at one of the hospitals in San Diego a few weeks back and I accepted it. Spent the last few weeks sorting out a place to live and getting ready to move, I start there in 3 weeks.”

Strong arms wrap around you as Maverick brings you into a tight hug with a chuckle and a kiss to your forehead. “That's amazing news kid.” As he lets you go, your eyes meet with Bradley’s and you smile at him, which he reciprocates before turning to Phoenix who pulls his attention away from you and back to the pool game they were playing.

Though now he was playing much worse than he was before, he was sloppy as his eyes followed you as you flitted between the crowd of aviators getting to know everyone and he was sure Phoenix would kick his ass in the morning for making them lose against the tag-team of Hangman and Coyote but he couldn’t bring himself to care, though she wasn’t really going to catching onto the love sick look on her friends face the minute he caught sight of you. All he cared about was the fact that you were here and even when you left you would only be 30 minutes away from him and he was determined to not let you slip out of his life once again.

------

The next time Bradley sees you is three days later, not that he’s counting or anything, and the squad are on the beach playing some dog fight football to relax after a grueling training session with Maverick. You had been at the Hard Deck with Penny and Amelia looking at some bridesmaid dresses for the pair of you to wear at the upcoming wedding of Penny and Maverick, your eyes occasionally moving from the laptop in front of you down the beach to where they were playing. You had to admit it was quite the sight and you just couldn’t help yourself from watching, I mean who could blame you.

The sight of the 12 aviators, excluding Hondo and Mav who were now sitting on the sidelines enjoying just watching their squad enjoy themselves, shirtless and sweaty would make even a nun stop and stare. But your eyes were on one particular aviator and his on you, it seemed that every time you looked over his eyes were already on you, a smirk on his face as he sends a wink your way that has you rolling your eyes everytime.

“So… you and Rooster.” Penny’s voice pulls you away from your staring and you turn to her with a questioning look that she rolls her eyes at with a scoff. “Oh come on (Y/N), I’m not blind. I can see the way you two look at each other, you can’t tell me there’s nothing there.”

With a gentle huff, you fold your arms and place them on the table in front of you, pushing your laptop forward slightly as you do, “There is nothing there Penny. He was my best friend for 23 years and then we drifted apart, him busy becoming one of the best naval pilots currently serving and me busy becoming the best doctor I could.” A soft hmm falls from Penny’s lips, one that perfectly conveys a very sarcastic ‘I believe you’, “Are you sure about that? You didn’t see the way his entire face lit up when he saw you in the Hard Deck the other day, I swear that boy looked like he was on cloud 9 the minute he held you in his arms,”

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head at your step mother and tell her once again that there is nothing romantic about your relationship with Bradley. At least now anyway, but you would never tell her about the fact you’re pretty sure you were in love with him in college. “Bullshit.” Eyes widening in shock, you turn to Amelia with your mouth open and she at least looks a little bashful about her outburst obviously not meaning to say it out loud as her cheeks flush a little and her mouth gapes a little.

“Sorry,” her eyes flit to her mother, expecting to be scolded but Penny is simply watching her with amusement in her eyes, “but it’s true.” Leaning forward in her chair, Amelia places her head in her palm as her eyes flit between you and the aviators on the beach. “Look, I know I’m only a teenger and I know nothing about relationship and being in love and all that adult stuff” at the words ‘adult stuff’ she uses air quotes that makes you let out a small chuckle, “but Rooster looks at you the same way Mav looks at Mom, and from the photos I’ve seen the way Goose looked at your aunt Carole.”

Moving to look down the beach once again, you smile as you see the aviators carrying Bob about on their shoulders with a small chant of his name, Rooster is once again looking at you and this time you give him a small wave and a smile as he offers you a salute in return. Behind your back, Penny and Amelia share a knowing glance and a smile seeing how completely fucking gone you were for Bradley Bradshaw. “Why don’t you go bring them down some bears to cool them off? Maybe you and Rooster can talk a little.”

Though you rolled your eyes, knowing Penny was simply scheming, you did as she suggested, pilling some beer into a cooler she had on hand and carrying it down the beach to where your dad and the rest of the squad sat as they took a breather. Placing a kiss to your dad’s cheek as he turned his head towards you and greeted you with a gentle ‘hey honey’ you smile at the aviators as you set the cooler on the sand as you announce your presence to the rest of the group. “I bring gifts”

You’re meet with a chorus of thanks and greetings, and of course a flirty remark from Hangman who got hit up the side of the head thanks to Phoenix who had planted herself next to the Texan which caused you to let out a laugh as you bent down to open up the cooler and begin handing out the cold beers, and soda for Bob. As you go to hand Rooster one he smiles at you and instead of taking the beer from you, offers his hand out, palm facing up as if asking to take your hand, “Walk with me angel?”

You nod your head gently and place the bear back in the cooler, placing your freehand in his to allow him to guide you through the lounging aviators that were lying haphazardly across the sand. Though Rooster’s hand was sweaty, you had to admit to yourself that you enjoyed the few seconds in which your hand was clasped in his. It reminded you of simpler times, walking to school hand-in-hand as your mothers walked behind the two of you, playing with his fingers as you lay on his bed as he lamented about the most recent girl whose heart he broke by telling them he wasn’t interested, and even of less simple times where you would hold onto his hand in the hospital waiting rooms as his mom's health began to decline, and him holding yours the day you got the call that your mom had been in a major accident involving a drunk driver and he drove you all the way from Virginia to your home town, holding onto one another at the funerals of both Carole and your mother as if you were the last people you both had in the world, and in a way you were. While Maverick was very much present in your life now as an adult, growing up he was never really around throwing himself into missions and detachments to distract from the pain of losing Goose, you saw him at holidays and birthdays and got a few letters through the year if you were lucky, but you really only had your mom, your aunt Carole, and Bradley until you were an adult.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Rooster’s voice cut through your thoughts and you let out a soft little ‘hmm’ as you came back to reality and looked over to him, ignoring the fact that his hand was still in yours despite it no longer needing to be, “I lost you there for a second angel, where’d you drift of to?”

You gave him a sad smile and looked out to the ocean as you walked, “Just thinking about how the last time I held your hand was my mom’s funeral.” He let out a soft ‘oh’ and gave your hand a soft squeeze as you turned round to face him once again. “And about how much I’ve missed you B.”

You always knew you missed Bradley, he had been such a constant in your life with your mom and aunt Carole being best friends that bought houses right next to each other and were basically co-parents for the pair of you growing up and by the point you were in high school the two of you were attached at the hip, only really seen without the other when in classes you didn’t share together, hell, you even ended up at the same college as one another when the time came.

So when you slowly faded out of each other's lives it was like you slowly lost a part of yourself, you always found yourself wanting to turn to Rooster whenever anything important happened. Like when you did your first solo surgery during your internship in Seattle, or when you meet the guy you thought you were gonna marry only for him to turn round and break your heart, though if you were being honest you weren’t as upset about that as you should have been, or even to tell him about the little things in life like the day you went to the pound with a friend and ended up coming home with a little scruff ball of a dog who turned out to be part german shepherd and grew up with the size to prove it.

Even after 10 years, you still found yourself thinking ‘I should tell Bradley about this’ and then getting disheartened when you realise, you can’t. You had no real way of contacting him, you knew you could reach out to Maverick but that felt like crossing a line, a complete invasion of privacy, and even if you did reach out to Maverick he would only really know roughly where he was but not how to contact him, and it broke you over and over again. But seeing him, it hit you like a ton of bricks just how much you missed him and with the way your heart twisted with the realisation you made sure to take a mental note to not let Penny know or find out because she would have the smuggest grin and ‘I told you so’ mentality about it, seeing him again truly felt like a piece of your soul had been returned to its rightful place.

“I’ve missed you too angel.” If you thought you missed Bradley, he missed you just as much if not more and had spent so many sleepless nights searching you up on social media and google to keep up with your life and see how you were doing. When he was at basic, he tried to write letters, something that he could send you to let you know he was still thinking about you but he couldn’t get the words out. Couldn’t articulate just how much he missed you without it sounding far too much like ‘I love you’ and that was not something he wanted to tell you in a letter, that was something he needed to say in person, so he sent nothing instead.

He had saw you at your med-school graduation, smiled you and told you how proud he was of you but he never told you, he apologised for the lack of communication blaming being busy and not having a chance and you did the same, med-school had kicked your ass and meant you just did not have the time to sit down and put thought to paper, or email, to send to him. And then he got deployed and the cycle started again, he would start writing you a letter and then he would trash it because it didn’t like the way it sounded and even the ones he liked never got sent as he lost the nerve and instead stashed them in a box that now lived under his bed, and you started your internship to and communication was run into the ground.

He was just glad you were a social media person, while he wasn’t and rarely posted on any accounts he had, he got to watch your life unfold through the screen. He watched you enter relationships which made his heart twist in pain as he thought about you being with someone that wasn’t him and then he watched those relationships end which hurt even more because he couldn’t be there to comfort like he had been when you were younger. He watched as you moved from Seattle after your internship being offered a position in one of the best trauma centres in the country where you adopted your scruff ball that had been adequately named ‘shaggy’. He watched as you posted photos of you and your dad, though his own relationship with Maverick was in the gutter, he was happy to see yours healing. Happy that you had someone when he wasn’t there.

Now that you were back in his life, he felt like that one piece of the puzzle that had been missing since he enlisted had finally been put back into place, though he would never admit it anyone, especially Phoenix after she interrogated him about your relationship after you had left the Hard Deck that first night, he didn’t want her to have the satisfaction of known that he was in fact, in far too deep with you even after 10 years after he spent so long denying that there was anything romantic between the two of you.

Though your admissions hung heavy around you, as if waiting for one of you to reach out and grab it in an admission of blame of whose fault it was you drifted apart, conversation flowed naturally between the two of you as you caught each other up on the details and events in your lives for the past 10 years, neither one of you wanting to play the blame game though it was heavy on your heads because you both knew you were equally to blame.

As you talked and caught up, you were none the wiser to the lingering gazes of the squad of aviators who sat with either a questioning look or a smug smirk on their faces (Phoenix and Hangman specifically) as one of them voiced the question to Maverick, “What’s going on with those two?”

With a shake of his head, Maverick let out a small sigh and moved his eyes away from the form of his daughter and surrogate nephew as they walked hand in hand along the shore line and to the aviators who had now downed their beers and were getting ready for another round of dogfight football without Rooster. Pushing his aviators back up his nose, Maverick laid back in his lounge chair and shrugged his shoulders, “They were attached at the hip once upon a time, they’re just catching up.”

Though his tone was playful, there was a warning edge to it that warned the others to drop the subject because truthfully even Maverick didn’t know what was going on between the two of you. He knew you were close growing up and you grew apart as adults, something you lamented to him about as you healed your relationship with him after graduating college, but watching you two he could finally see what your mother saw every time you two were together. The undying, unbridled love in each other's eyes that you were too blinded to see, the same kind of love he saw in Carole and Gooses eyes every day. Yeah, Maverick found himself thinking, maybe your mom was right and you were gonna be Mrs.Bradshaw one day.

---

Its 2 weeks later and you’re finally moved into your new place in San Diego, only 30 minutes away from Fightertown on a good day and 60 on a bad day, a 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom (1 ensuite, 1 main), bungalow with an open plan living room and kitchen. It was a nice bungalow, sitting right beside the beach and a small garden out your front, the amount of bed rooms meant one could be converted into an office or home gym while the other can be a storage room, maybe changing into a baby room a few years down the line. And it was all yours, after years of renting, you owned your own home and you couldn't be happier.

You had been moved in within 5 days with the help of your father and dagger squad who spent most of their evenings helping you move furniture and unpack everything after it had arrived. Though you were pretty sure they were doing it under the orders of your father, it was nice to have them around. The squad were your dad’s family, which meant by extension they were yours now and it was nice to get to know them. You grew especially close with Siren, Phoenix and Halo, the three happy to have another woman around to break up the testosterone, especially one who could handle Hangman’s ego and kept him and Rooster in line when things started to get heated between them.

Your relationship with Rooster also got better, since that day on the beach where you seemed to walk the entire length of the beach and back as you talked, though you weren’t as close as you were when you were younger, which was physically impossible as he had training and drills every day and you were helping Penny with both wedding planning and in the Hard Deck on busy nights, you were still close.

You were happy to find all the quirks and mannerisms you had memorised still existed, like the way his lip upturned when he was scheming or the how he fiddled with his dog tags when he was nervous or thinking (when you were young he would always fiddle with his dads), turning the metal over his fingers again and again, or how when he was lying he would scratch behind his right ear and his eyebrow would twitch slightly (honestly, it was such a small reaction that most people didn't notice it) everything about him so familiar and it was welcome because it meant he was still your Bradley even after all this time.

Which is why when Rooster walked into your bungalow that night, pizza and beer in his hand with a certain look in his eye, you knew immediately that he wanted something. You watched him carefully with your arms crossed over your chest as you leaned against your kitchen sink and he placed the pizza down on your island. He was avoiding your gaze, another nervous habit when he was scared to ask something, instead looking over your kitchen as if he hadn’t been there every night for the past week. With a gentle sigh you moved forward, uncrossing your arms and putting your hands on the island so you were now leaning on it instead.

“Spit it out Bradshaw. What do you want?”

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Rooster almost looks sheepish as he also leans on the island with his forearm against the cold granite and this only makes you raise an eyebrow at him in a questioning manner.

“You see…” You very rarely saw Bradley struggle to ask for something, especially not from you as there was very little you would say no to him about, now he seemed nervous as if what he was asking would cause you to reach over and slap him across the face. “I, uh, I wanted to call upon our arrangement one last time.”

Now, whatever you were expecting him to say it was certainly not that and the shock was clear on your face as you quite literally stood up straight with wide eyes and your mouth opening and closing. It had been a while since you thought about your arrangement with Bradley, years even as the last time it came into play was your med-school graduation 10 years ago, before everything fell apart. While the arrangement was something the two of you agreed upon almost 20 years earlier as freshly graduated high schoolers, you still remembered it like it was yesterday.

----

It was just after your high school graduation, your mother had organised a small party with a few of your relatives that lived nearby and a few friends from outside of school but you and Bradley snuck away in his old Bronco he had gotten as soon as he got his licence (it was almost the exact same one as Gooses) and you ended up in what you had dubbed ‘your secret spot’. It was a silly name, but it was where the two of you would always go to escape when the world got a little bit too much, either together or alone. After Bradley parked near the large oak tree that took up most of the clearing, you clambered out of the car and laid down the blanket you had brought with you, popping open the champagne you had snuck off one of the tables at the party.

Letting out a content sigh, you plopped yourself down on the blanket, your legs spreading out in front of you as you leaned back on your arms with your head thrown back to look at the stars that decorated the night sky. Your eyes traced over the shapes of the constellations, following them until an image formed in your mind of what they were meant to be. You knew them all, and their stories, that was something your mom had taught you. Bradley settled next to you, one leg propped up so he could lean his arm on it, the other pressing against yours alongside his shoulder as he leaned back on his hand, following you in looking up at the stars.

Bradley never understood your fascination with the stars, you had explained it to him once telling him a story your mom constantly repeated to you about how you would never settle at night unless she took you out to the stars and told you their stories, it seems that even as a baby you found them calming. You told him that even if the world was in chaos and falling apart around you, the stars were always there, they were the one constant in a world where nothing else was and looking at them brought you comfort. But no matter how much you explained it, and how much he said he got it, there was always a part of him that never quite knew what you meant but that never stopped him from listening as you explained the different constellations to him, no matter how many times he had already heard the story.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, passing the bottle of champagne between you quietly, simply revelling in each other's company because you knew things were gonna be different come September time. Sure, you were going to the same college things were going to be different, you were hoping to join a sorority and Bradley was going to try out for the baseball team, you didn’t imagine you would have the same time for each other that you have now given you were never apart for more than an hour or two when you weren’t asleep. Eventually you moved from your sitting positions, instead opting to lie on the blanket, you with your arms on your stomach and Bradley with his arms under his head causing the muscles in his arms to flex and you cursed him for it, finding it hard not to look at him as he did.

“I have a proposition.” Turning your head to look at Bradley with an amused smirk, you see he’s already looking at you with soft eyes and an even softer smile and you raise your eyebrow at him. Bradley turns on his side, using his arm to prop up his head, and you do the same giving him your full attention.

“Go on, you’ve piqued my interest.”

He rolls his eyes at the teasing tone in your voice and lightly shoves your shoulder, just enough that you wobble but not enough that you fall over which causes you to giggle. “Come on, I’m being serious.”

Wiping the smile from your mouth, you put on a fake serious face, “Okay, okay, I’m serious.” Bradley only rolls his eyes again but he doesn’t shove you, instead his free hand starts to play with a loose strand of fabric on the blanket, his eyes casting down to avoid meeting yours as he spoke.

“We make a promise, an agreement, that when we get to college and even after we won’t forget about one another. Like, if one of us has an event or a party, and we’re both single, we go together, if one of us has a ceremony or an award or any sort of celebration we go and support the other.”

His eyes moved up to meet yours, having been scared you were going to tell him no. Tell him that now you were grown you wanted some independence from him, a chance to see who you were without Bradley Bradshaw attached at your hip. But you don’t, instead you reach out your hand, fingers clenched closed with your pinky extended and a small smile on your face.

“I promise B” Bradley reaches out and intertwines your pinky fingers together.

---

And that was the start of your agreement with Bradley Bradshaw that saw him as your date to your first sorority event and you as his to the college baseball formal, it’s what saw you at multiple events together throughout college and saw peoples always asking about if you were dating or not, with some of your sorority sisters commenting on the fact that you were lucky to have him. It was what saw him supporting you when you were given an award by the school for academics and you supporting him when he got MVP three years in a row with the baseball team, it was what had you in the crowd of his graduation from the naval academy and him in the crowd of your med-school graduation. But after you started to drift apart, the agreement fell apart with it and it hadn’t been brought up since. Until now that is

“The arrangement?” Bradley let out a small chuckle and stopped rubbing at his neck, instead now leaning on the island with both arms as his eyes swept across the room, determined not to meet your stare he tried to find something, anything he could focus on instead of you because he was sure he would see rejection in your eyes. Finally, his eyes settled on the photos on your fridge, one of you and your friends on your graduation day, one of you and your dad working on the F-14 he had in his bunker, one of you and Shaggy from shortly after you got him, and one of you and him at your senior year prom.

A small huff passes your lips as you look him up and down, once again crossing your arms over your chest your, “Okay, but I need details first.” Bradley’s eyes snapped from the photos on your fridge to your face as his mouth opened in shock, he was truly expecting you to say no. To tell him to fuck off, that it was a stupid promise made when you were teenagers but here you were agreeing.

“You’re serious?” Rolling your eyes, you leaned forward onto the island once again, this time folding your arms over one another, matching the way Rooster was standing, and you slid forward slightly so your face was just millimetres away from Rooster and you had to stop your eyes from flickering down to his lips and imagining the way they would feel on yours. Rooster was having a similar issue, finding himself forcing his eyes to look into your eyes because he knew if he looked anywhere else he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from reaching out and pulling you into a bruising kiss.

“Of course I’m serious, I did pinky promise after all and we both know those are sacred.” With a small smile you suddenly pull back, all too aware of how the heat of his breath against your skin was starting to cause a blush to spread over your cheeks. Quickly you clear your throat and reach for the pizza on the counter, lifting it as you round the island and head towards your living room. Throwing yourself onto the sofa you place the pizza box on the coffee table and reach down to pet Shaggy who is asleep in his bed at the end of the sofa, motioning to the other side of the sofa with your hand, “Now, details.”

Lifting the beer, and a bottle opened, Bradley joins you on the sofa and hands you an open beer, while you’re sat with your back against the arm of the sofa and your legs pulled up to your chest, Bradley leans back, stretches one arm around the back cushions of the sofa and spreads his legs in front of him. Taking a deep swig of beer, he lets out a sigh and runs his hand over his face before he starts to explain.

“An old navy buddy is getting married on Saturday and I was invited to the wedding a while back,” Okay, so far so good, you think to yourself and you let a gentle ‘hmmm’ to let Rooster know you were listening as you took a swig of your own beer, “At the time I was just a guest, but one of his groomsmen has dropped out, well he’s been kicked out but that's another story for another time, so now there’s an uneven number of bridesmaids and groomsmen and the bridesmaids already have their dresses so it would be a complete waste of money to ask one of the bridesmaid to drop out and he doesn’t have any other close friends or family, his brother’s are already part of the grooms party”

“B you’re rambling.” You very rarely saw Bradley rambling, only when he was really really nervous like that time he asked Ashley Stone to be his prom date in junior year or when he confessed to his first college girlfriend.

“Right, sorry. Anyway, he reached out to me and asked if I would be his groomsman, all the other guys are navy men, and I said yes, no problem. The thing is this all went down when I was still seeing that girl, Molly, I was telling you about and I had put down a plus one.”

Realisation hits you and you nod your head along with what he’s saying, “So you want me to be your plus one.” His eyes, which had been staring up at your ceiling, move to your face and he nods slowly, but there’s something in his eyes that tells you that’s not all it is and you let out a small sigh and narrow your eyes at him.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” He nods solemnly and takes another swig of his beer before he leans forward and places his elbows on his knees, head turned towards you with an apologetic look on his face.

“I heard Molly was going to be there with her new man, apparently he’s a friend of the brides, and I may have said I was bringing my new girl.” You close your eyes and curse at his stupidity, taking swig of your beer as you rubbed at your temples.

“So you want me to be your date and play pretend as your girlfriend?” It wouldn’t be the first time you had pretended to be his girlfriend, you had done it once or twice in college when he was clearly uncomfortable when someone was flirting with him to chase him off, and he had pretended to be your boyfriend numerous times when some creeps wouldn’t take the hint that you wasn’t interested in them, but that was short bursts. This was going to be an all day thing, and you didn’t know if your heart could take that.

“Pretty much.” Bradley knew it was a lot to ask, it even feel outside the parameters of your agreement and he was sure you were going to turn around any second now and tell him to get lost, that you wouldn’t do it. But as you opened your eyes with a resigned sigh and looked at him, he knew you weren’t going to do that.

“Okay Bradshaw, you got a deal. But…” You were caught off guard by Bradley reaching over and pulling you into a tight embrace, practically putting you onto his lap as he did so as he muttered thank you over and over again into your ear. You hugged him back and let out a gentle chuckle before pulling back, your hands on Bradley’s shoulders as his remained your waist where he had pulled you in.

Your heart picked up in your chest from the contact and you felt heat rush through your body as a blush spread across your cheeks, you didn’t want to pull away any further than you already were, you actually wanted to pull him closer to you and press your lips against his. In fact every muscle in your body was screaming at you to do just that but you didn’t listen, instead letting go of his shoulder and shuffling back to your position on the sofa.

“As I was saying, I need to know details of the wedding. Time, theme, colours, bridesmaid colours, dress code, what you’re wearing.” You ran your hand through your hair, starting to panic a little the more you thought about it, which Bradley saw. He reached a hand out and took the one carding through your hair in his, pulling it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to it and something about the gentle intimacy of it almost stopped your breathing.

“Stop panicking. I will text Mercury, uh, Gerard and ask him anything I don’t know and then I’ll text you. He’s asked all the groomsmen to wear their dress whites so it won’t be hard to match me. I don’t know the theme, the dress code for the reception for the women is princess? I don't actually know, and I don’t know about the colour scheme. But I will find out, I promise.” At Rooster’s words you calm a little, taking a few deep breaths to settle your racing heart before you nod.

“Okay, okay.” He gives you a smile before dropping your hand and reaching over to the coffee table, flipping open the pizza lid and pulling out a slice, handing it to you with a smile, “Now let’s eat before it turns to ice.”

---

Saturday rolls around quicker than you would have liked, you thought you would be over the nerves by now but as the day approached the only seemed to get worse and worse until you felt your chest constricting and your lungs felt like they were collapsing in on themselves as you struggled to breath. Eyes squeezed tight, your hands gripped onto your island lip with such force that you knew your knuckles were turning white even without looking at them. Your thoughts were spiralling a little, little what ifs that were nothing if not intrusive thoughts like what if Bradley’s doing this to embarrass you? What if he’s doing just to make his ex jealous? What if? What if? What if? They swarmed your mind and you felt like you were beginning to drown.

Suddenly a hand is placed on your arm, slowly rubbing up and down the skin to soothe you and another is placed on your head slowly moving through your hair and you hear voices but they feel a million miles away, distorted by your heartbeat that was thundering in your ears. Slowly you opened your eyes, to see Natasha and Callie looking at you from either side with concern and you could see their mouths move but still couldn't quite make out the sound coming out. Callie removed her hand from your hair and instead used it to guide one of your own to her chest, where you could feel her taking deep long breaths and you tried your best to match the pattern. In for eight seconds, hold for six, out for eight and repeat. Your heart beat started to calm and you could start to make out what the girls at your side were saying.

“That’s it (Y/N)....”

“Nice and easy…”

“You’re okay…”

The tightness in your chest slowly fades, it still lingers but it doesn’t inhibit your breathing anymore, and the rapid beating of your heart slows to a relatively normal rate. Finally, your hands release their grip on the island and you stretch your fingers open and closed to ease the ache that had settled in them. Your eyes move to Natasha, whose hand is still running up and down your arm and then to Callie who stills holds one of your hands against her chest with a small smile and look of appreciation.

“Thank you guys.”

They give you small nods in return, Callie lets go of your hand and instead wraps an arm around your shoulder and brings you into a hug while Natasha threads her fingers through your hand, “No need to thank us,” it was Natasha who spoke, “I’m just glad we arrived when we did.”

Callie let out a soft ‘yeah’ agreeing with her girlfriend, “That looked pretty bad, you okay?” You had told the girls before about having panic attacks, you were at the Hard Deck one night, just the three of you, and some creep was not leaving you alone and you had a little freak out in the bathroom that they witnessed, but it had been a while since you had a full blown attack like the one you just experienced. You were glad the girls arrived then they did as well, you didn’t know how you were going to calm down from that one on your own and it was a gift to have them there grounding you.

With a small nod you pull back from Callie, “Yeah, I’m good now. It’s just one bad thought spiralled into another and another and another and I didn’t know how to pull myself out.” Natasha’s hand moved from your arm to rub at your back softly, knowing your body is probably still pumping with adrenaline, to sooth you further, the looks of concern remained but their lips turned up into soft smiles. They knew you were nervous about the whole thing, having lamented to them your nerves and fears when you went out dress shopping only yesterday because Rooster didn’t give you the details you needed to find a dress sooner.

The theme of the event was fairy tales and what can only be described as royaltycore, with the bride wearing a replica of the live action Cinderella dress and her bridesmaids baby blue and baby pink dresses obviously inspired by the dress worn by princess Aurora in sleeping beauty going by their shape (matching the wedding dress in the live action movie) and colour (an obvious nod to the changing blue and pink in the original animated feature), with a pastel colour scheme, Bradley had told you that guests would have to wear pastels that matched the table you were assigned and those wearing dresses were under orders (straight from the bride herself) to dress like the princess of their childhood dreams (and surprisingly she didn't care if you ended up looking better than her, it seems she just wanted to live out her childhood dream of living a fairy tale for just a few hours) , and the table you and Bradley would be placed at was designated the lavender table so you had to hunt for a lavender dress.

Having found nothing in San Diego you, Natasha, and Callie all ended up driving over 2 hours to LA in the traffic and heat to try and find something you could wear. You had formal dresses, having attended many a charity gala and medical events but they were all dark navys and emerald greens, you weren’t really one for pastels and you certainly didn't have anything that made you feel like a princess, in fact most of your dresses made you feel like a display, a prize to be given to the highest bidder as you were paraded around to convince donors to up their donations with a flutter of your eyelashes and your tits pressed against their arms as you walked, so you had to go out and shop for something.

While some of the dresses you found when in San Diego had potential, they were either the wrong shape or the wrong size (and you most definitely did not have time to have anything tailored) so you made the journey to L.A and finally found something in a small shop owned by an independent designer that had been recommended by Siren (who couldn’t join you as she was dragging a very nervous Bob to meet her family in Miami that weekend). You were lucky, it was the last of the dress in stock and it was just your size and, in Callies words, you looked like a knock-out in it. With dress in hand, the three of you made your way back to San Diego and settled in your respective homes just before midnight.

Natasha removed her hand from your back as she felt your breathing even out completely, the tightness in your chest was now completely gone and your panic had settled though nervousness still brewed in the pit of your stomach, and she turned to Callie with a smile, “Now let’s get you all dolled up.”

That’s right, you forgot you asked them to help you get ready, well you told them you didn’t know what to do with your hair and makeup and didn’t have time to book in with anyone to get it professionally done, to which Natasha let you know that Callie is phenomenal at doing makeup making a joke that if she wasn’t a pilot she would be on a movie set somewhere doing makeup for the stars. Callie blushed at the compliment and let you know she could do yours for you, while also volunteering Natasha to do your hair because she was surprisingly good at it. And that’s why they were at your place at 8am in the morning after getting home so late at night. You were gonna have to buy them a bottle of wine or two to thank them later.

Natasha guided you into your room, her hand in yours and placed you down in front of your vanity. It was an old thing, the one your mom used to keep in her room though she very rarely used it, but it was nice to have a piece of her. She turned you to the side, so you were facing the door into your ensuite while she positioned herself behind you and Callie positioned herself in front of you, placing her makeup bag on the vanity. You were thankful she brought it, the only makeup you had were the basics to make you look less like a zombie when out in the ED, some foundation, concealer, blush, eyeliner, and maybe three eyeshadow palettes none of which contained pastel colours. Under their instructions, you closed your eyes and let the girls get to work.

The ceremony was starting at 10, would be finished in 30 minutes and Rooster was coming to pick you up on his way to the reception venue, with the reception not due to start until 12, Rooster would pick up at 10.45, giving him time to get to the venue with the midday San Diego traffic.

Which was great, considering the fact that both Natasha and Callie restarted their entire process at least 3 times each drawing out the time it took for them to actually finish doing your hair and makeup, well that and the breaks you took to eat something and to sneak a drink of champagne that Callie had brought with her deciding you would need a little bit of an edge to calm your nerves before Rooster arrives. Between the stopping and restarting, your hair and makeup was finished by 10:40.

Though you couldn’t see yourself yet, Callie had covered up the mirror halfway through because you kept trying to peek, the looks on Callie and Natasha’s face were enough to let you know you looked good. “Beautiful. Now get your ass into your dress, I can hear Rooster pulling up.”

Callie left the room, leaving Natasha to help you get into your dress. As yout stripped out of your pyjamas, folding them neatly and placing them on the edge of your bed, Natasha turned away towards your bedroom door and started to remove your dress from the protective covering given to you at the boutique yesterday, while you made your way to your underwear drawer and pulled out a lacy thong and a strapless bra in a matching colour out and put them on. You then turned to Natasha who had removed the dress from the hanger and was holding it folded over her arm, you let out a gentle ‘okay’ to let her know it was okay for her to turn around.

While Natasha helped you into your dress, Callie let Rooster into your home with a smile and a bit of a questioning look as she noticed he was driving a black Bentley and not his usual bronco, “You give up the bronco?” Rooster rolled his eyes as he stepped over the threshold of your home with a small smile on his face.

“Gerard insisted all the groomsmen arrive in Bentley’s, he did wanna give me a driver but I insisted on driving to get (Y/N) myself.” Callie nodded her head as they walked into the open plan living room and kitchen, leaning against the island as she eyed up Rooster. Even she had to admit that he looked good in his dress whites.

“You clean up well Bradshaw.”

Roosters rolled his eyes at Callie, but his lips upturned slightly at the compliment, it fed his ego a little bit, though he only really cared about what you thought he looked like. Rooster’s eyes once again found the photo of the two of you at prom and a small smile spread across his face as he remembered just how beautiful you looked that night and how that was the first time he realised that he may have had not so friendly feelings towards you. He remembered his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he waited for your mom to go and get you from your room, how his hands felt clammy and his head began to spin as he saw you in your dress for the first time. This was no different, his heart was hammering in his chest as if it was trying to break through his ribs and throw itself directly into your hands, and his hands felt damp to his touch as he clasped them together in front of him to stop him fidgeting.

Callies eyes softened as she watched one of her best friends and she smiled, it was obvious from the very first day that you were Roosters girl to the point that even Hangman was leaving you alone not wanting to incur the wrath of a love sick Rooster, but now watching him Callie could see it was so much more than just an infatuation but was pure, deep love, one not everybody got to experience and those who did were lucky too. “She’s beautiful Bradley.”

Rooster��s eyes snapped to Callies and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he knew you were beautiful. You were always beautiful, even when you thought you looked your worst Bradley always thought you were the most ethereal being on the planet. The sound of a door opening and closing caused Bradley to look down the corridor he knew lead to your bedroom, but instead of you walking down there was Natasha with a smile on her face.

“She’s just getting her shoes on.” Bradley nodded his head as Natasha joined Callie leaning on the island, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek before she turned her eyes back to Bradley. She narrowed them slightly and crossed her arms over her chest as she looked him up and down.

“This is your one shot Bradshaw, fuck this up and I will run you over with my car.” Bradley wanted to ask what she was talking about, argue that there was nothing to fuck up, you were just friends, and you were only doing this as a favour to him, but the sound of your heels coming down the hall stopped him and he turned to look at you.

Callie wasn’t wrong, you were beautiful but you were so much more than that. You looked like an absolute goddess, your makeup made all your features pop, especially your eyes and

your hair was styled to perfection with little decorative butterflies poking out here and there to match your dress. Your dress. God, you truly looked like a fairy princess. A gorgeous lilac, floor-length gown, with butterflies decorating the skirt and collar line with pink highlights, including a pink belt around your waist.

The world around Rooster faded away as he looked at you, it was like he had tunnel vision and everything else faded to darkness, and his heart beat so rapidly and loudly in his chest he could hear it and felt like he was underwater. Eyes moving over your form, not every discreetly, a flush rose on his cheeks and he felt his throat dry up and constrict as he tried to vocalise anything to let you know what he was thinking.

The intensity of his stare at you blushing profusely, eyes moving away from him as you ran your hand over the skirt of your dress to distract yourself from his gaze, which you could physically feel on you as if it was peeling back the layers of your skin and muscle and staring directly at your heart, which was beating so rapidly against your ribcage. You were so distracted by not looking at Bradley, you can’t see the sly smiles shared by Natasha and Callie, or the way they were eyeing the two of you just waiting for one of you to make a move.

Taking a gulp, making his adams apple bob in his throat, Rooster clears his throat finally moving his eyes away from your form, though the blush he sports is still rapidly spreading across his face, “You look good angel.”

Mentally Rooster curses himself, was that seriously the best he could come up with? That you looked good? Did you really short-circuit his brain that badly that he couldn’t even compliment you properly? Natasha groans internally, throwing her head back in exasperation as she lets out a sigh and rolls her eyes. She knew Rooster was an idiot but this was beyond idiocy. You didn’t mind though, you gave Rooster a smile as you finally looked at him again.

“You look good too B.”

A smile spread across Rooster’s face as he reached out a hand for you to take, which you do with a small smile, “Your carriage awaits princess.” You roll your eyes at his extravagance, taking your clutch from Callie as Rooster escorts you to the car, which you give him a questioning look about and you laugh as he explains that he was forced too, but if he had a choice he would be driving you to the ball in his bronco.

Natasha and Callie watch with smiles as you laugh with one another before driving off and as you do the couple turn to one another and sigh, “They are absolutely hopeless.” Callie nods along to her girlfriend's words and clicks her tongue, “Completely hopeless.”

---

The drive to the venue doesn’t take as long as you thought it would, the traffic isn’t as bad as anticipated with most people taking advantage of the beautiful morning and heading to the beach before temperatures reach their peak between mid-day and three pm. It’s a peaceful drive, mostly.

You of course tease Bradley about his moustache and how you’re surprised Gerard didn’t make him shave the ridiculous thing off to be in the wedding party and he rolled his eyes and chuckled, letting a little “you know you love my moustache” slip past his lips. And, surprisingly, you do love his moustache, though you would never let him know that it would simply inflate his ego to the point it would match Hangmans, and you did not need a cocky Bradley in your life.

But after you actually set off, conversation dies off with the only sound being the music playing gently from the speakers. You realise, half-way through the drive, that it’s a playlist of all your favourite songs from childhood and you smile at the thought that Bradley remembered and made a playlist specifically for you, you supposed it was to try and calm the nerve raging inside of you the closer you got to the venue.

For most of the ride, you’re sitting staring out the window with your elbow propped on the window and your head propped on a fist, just watching the world whizz by, occasionally moving your eyes to take in Bradley in his dress whites. Bradley is a handsome man, he knows he’s a handsome man and often uses that to his advantage, but in his dress whites? His dress whites take it to a whole other level and you swear he looks like Prince Charming coming to sweep Cinderella off her feet.

You take your time to admire him, from his nearly combed and styled hair that doesn’t have a hair out of place and it certainly being held in place by a mountain of products curving down along his chiselled jawline to his plump lips that had a light sheen to him, probably just a lip balm, but they looked so kissable as you stared at them for a little bit longer than you should have, being so lost in thought that you bite down on your own lips that were painted a light pink.

You finally move on from staring at Bradleys lips back across his jawline and down his neck, moving across his arms that looked absolutely amazing in the white overcoat until you reached his hands, which were gripping onto the steering wheel with such an intensity that his knuckles were starting to change colour and the veins in his hands bulged, causing heat to spread through your body as you thought about his hands on your body, wrapped around your throat, holding your waist, dipping lower and lower to where you wanted him the most. But before your mind wanders too far, you strip your gaze away from him and look back out the window to try and calm your now rapidly beating heart and quell the embers of burning desire.

Your gaze isn’t unnoticed by Rooster, oh no, he doesn’t even have to look over to know your staring at him, he can feel your emerald eyes burning into his skin as it moved over his form and as he looks over and sees you biting down on your lip, he has to suppress a groan because you looked so damn good and he didn’t know how long he could control himself if you kept looking at him like that, which is why he was gripping onto the steering wheel with such force to try and ground himself and focus on anything other than your pretty pink lips and how they would feel on his own, how they would feel pressed against the skin of his neck, his chest, his abdomen, his.

Suddenly, Rooster is shaken out of his thoughts as the venue comes into sight and he is directed by a concierge to park alongside the other groomsmens bentley’s and he quickly clears his throat before following the directions and pulling in. As he pulls the keys of the car out of the ignition, he turns to you with a smile tugging at his lips, eyes roaming over your body once again, “You ready?”

You take a few deep breaths, in for eight, hold for six, out for eight and repeat, close your eyes and steady your heart before turning to Bradley with a tight lipped smile and a gentle nod of your head, “Yeah, let’s do this.”

You go to open your door, but Bradley quickly slaps your hand away and you turn to him with a shocked expression. Bradley only gives you a goofy grin before he gets out of his own door, shutting it behind him, before he makes his way over to your door smiling at the other groomsmen who were gathered only a short distance away. Straightening out the collar of his jacket quickly, Bradley open’s your door for you and offers you his hand, which you roll your eyes at but gladly take, allowing him to help you out of the car.

You hear a couple of whistles as Bradley’s hands fall to your waist as you allow him to steady you, pulling you close to his chest in the process. You could hear a few voices calling out from behind you, all some variation of ‘go Bradshaw’ or ‘way to go Rooster’, which causes a blush to rise on your cheeks which actually mirrored the one on Bradley’s as he tried to let you go. You stopped him, moving your arms around his neck and pulling him down to put a kiss on his cheek. Afterall, you were supposed to be his girlfriend and with people watching, you were going to put on a show.

The blush you had seen on Bradley’s face was nothing compared to the one heating up his skin now, he looked like a tomato and he had to hide his face in your neck to avoid being seen by the other groomsmen who were whooping and hollering at the display of affection. You rolled your eyes at the antics but welcomed the display of affection from Rooster, especially as he snaked his arms fully around your waist and rubbed up and down your back. It was something you frequently did when you were both younger, a way for the both of you to ground one another when it was needed, and it was very much needed now as anxiety started to take root in your heart.

A strong smack on Rooster’s shoulder prompts him to pull away from you, “Rooster man, you gonna introduce us to your girl here or are you just gonna love up on her all night?”

The small group of groomsmen (a total of 3 excluding the groom) had made their way over to you and were now leaning either against the bentley you arrived in or the one beside it with cocky smiles on their faces and their arms crossed. You had to assume the one who smacked Rooster was the groom, Gerard.

“Uh, yeah. Gerard, this is my girl (Y/N).” Though he had pulled away from you, Bradley manoeuvred so he was now at your side with his hand around your waist. “(Y/N), this is Gerard, and the rest of the groomsmen are Sam, James, and Steve.” He motioned to each one as he introduced them and you met them all with a smile.

James was the first of the group to speak to you directly, his eyes trailed up and down your body appreciatively and even though you know he means no harm by it you can’t help but cringe slightly at the way his eyes rake over you, there was just something wrong with the way he did it, “Damn Bradshaw. When you said your girl was a knockout you really meant it.” Finishing off his sentence with a wink in your direction, he moves back to look at Rooster who holds you just that little bit closer.

“Yeah, I’m damn lucky to have her.”

You look up to Bradley with a smile, only to find him already looking at you with a softness you’re not used to. One that speaks to the way lovers look at one another in the privacy of their own homes, one that you had seen before in how your friend Graham looked at his husband and how Maverick looked at Penny. Not wanting to overthink, truly not wanting to think about it all, you turn back to the group of groomsmen and clear your throat.

“Are you all aviators?”

Steve is next to speak, “Gerard and Sam are, me and James are marines” You give a small hmm in acknowledgement before he continues on, “What about you? You in the navy?”

You shake your head with a small laugh, “No, I think my dad would have actually murdered me if I even considered joining the navy. Um, my dads a pilot, Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell?” All the men exchange wide eyed shocked looks and Sam lets out a whistle.

“Wow, Rooster, the Captains daughter? And not just any Captain at that, Maverick? I’m surprised he hasn’t skinned you alive.”

You roll your eyes a little at that, sure your dad was overprotective and had threatened a few of your ex boyfriends, the one person he would never threaten is Bradley, and you both knew that. “There are two people in the world my father is scared of, one was my mother when she was alive. She was small but she was mighty and quite the temper. The other is me, unfortunately for him I inherited my mothers temper and his attitude.”

The boys around you let out a small chuckle, imagining you going in on Maverick, which you had done multiple times when he took on a dangerous mission and told you nothing about it (not even his flight details or that fact that he was flying, you really ripped into him after the uranium mission). The conversation looked like it was going to continue, until a small frazzled red head with a clipboard approached the group, the wedding planner you guessed.

“Boys!! You are needed for photographs before the reception begins!!” You stifled a giggle as you saw them all roll their eyes at her and cast your eyes to the ground, knowing if you meet any of the groomsmens eyes you would burst out laughing. The wedding planner let out a huff as she looked at her watch and then stormed off in the direction of what you assumed was the entrance.

“That’s our cue then.” James is the first to move off, throwing you a quick wink as he stood up straight and started heading towards the entrance alongside Steve and Sam. Gerard stayed with you and Bradley as you started moving towards the entrance yourselves, Bradley’s hand still wrapped firmly around your waist. As you walk the few metres to the entrance, Bradley and Gerard joke amongst themselves and all you can do is smile. Bradley was well and truly relaxed, you could feel it as he held you. There was no tension in his muscles, they way there usually was even if you were just hanging at the Hard Deck or at your place or at the hanger, even the micro muscles in his face seemed relaxed.

Stopping at the entrance, Gerard motions into a girl in a beautiful light purple dress with constellations stitched into the skirt and a small silver tiara in her hair, who was standing by a table of champagne, talking to an older woman in a beautiful regency style dress that looked like it had been picked out of Bridgerton , “That’s Sarah, she’s my cousin and Sam’s girl. Let her know your Rooster’s girl and she’ll show you to your table, she’s sitting with you. That’s her mother with her, my aunt Millie, be careful she’ll talk your ear off if you let her,” the last bit is spoken in a whisper as Gerard bends down to your ear, causing you to smile.

You nod your head and go to move in her direction, but Bradley grabs your hand and pulls you back into him, lifting your hand up and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. It was something he had done before, the night you had agreed to this whole charade, and again it took your breath away as the simple intimacy of it made your head feel light.

“I’ll be in soon, okay?” You give him a gentle nod and a soft ‘yeah’ falls past your lips, which is enough for him to let you go. You give him a smile as you turn towards the entrance, eyes following him from your peripheral as he moves towards where the photos are being taken until he is out of your view and you look at Sarah, who has turned to look at you having heard you coming.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Sarah.” She offers a hand out to you, which you take, and you instantly relax as you take in her gentle and welcoming smile and how something about her just eases peace, maybe it’s the constellations on her dress calming you or maybe she oozes the same energy that you found in them.

“Hi,” You don’t expect your voice to sound as small as it does and you quickly clear your throat before you continue, “I’m (Y/N), I’m uh…”

A look of excitement crosses across her features as she clasps her hands together and lets out a small squeal, “You’re Roosters girl? The doctor?” You nod your head slowly, shock settling in as to how she knew who you were, which you apparently weren’t good at hiding, as she links arms with you and smiles widely.

“At the rehearsal dinner the other day he could not stop talking about you! Honestly, I wish Sam talked about me as passionately as Rooster spoke about you. And, honey, the way his eyes lit up anytime someone asked about you, it’s adorable.”

Relief washes over you, Rooster had already spoken about you. He had planted the seeds that this relationship was legit in the minds of all the people here already, that made things easier. Now you just had to act like you were desperately in love with him, which was easy considering that you were no matter how much you refused to admit it to yourself.

Aunt Millie now turned to you with a smile and a glass of champagne, “Hello dear, I’m Mildred but you may call me Millie.”

You gently take the glass from her with a smile, “Hello Millie, my name’s (Y/N).” Her gentle smile and warm eyes remind you of your grandmother, and of the countless old ladies who made their way into an er throughout the year as a means to battle their loneliness, Gerard had said she would talk you ear off and you would have gladly let her if it meant she was a little less lonely for the night.

“Well my dear’s, almost all the guests are seated, shall we join them?” Sarah smiles at her mother and links her other arm through hers, keeping one linked with you, as you walk into the main reception area. Your mouth gaped open as you looked around, it was absolutely stunning. Vine wrapped stone pillars decorated with tiny lights that you were sure would look like twinkling stars once the night had hit, beautifully arranged circular tables curved in a crescent shape with a two person table at the centre reserved for the bride and groom that was decorated with beautiful white gardenias and wild flowers on top of a soft pink table cloth that resembled the colour of rose quartz,, with a lavender table either side (one for the groomsmen and their plus ones and one for the bridesmaids and their plus ones), which was followed by sky blue, then a gentle green colour, then a soft yellow, and then it repeated in reverse order (yellow,green, then blue, then lavender).

Each table had a flower centrepiece matching the colour of the table cloth, some sprigs of lavender on the lavender tables, blue daisies at the blue tables, limelight hydrangeas at the green tables, and coreopsis at the yellow tables. In the centre of the tables was the dance floor, edges decorated with bushes, all filled with blooming flowers of varying colours (you would have to assume most of them were artificial or else the smell would be completely overpowering), and hanging above it was a gorgeous chandelier that had been threaded with the same wildflowers as the bride and grooms table.

Behind the bride and groom's table, towards the back sat a photobooth very similar to the one found at proms and homecoming dances with a box of props at the side, that included toy swords, tiaras, and feather boas. At the very back of the room, hidden behind the floral background of the photobooth, was a pair of white arched doors that you assumed lead to the beach, if you listened close enough you could hear the waves crashing against the shore. It was like walking into a fairy tale.

Sarah gently guided her mother to her table and seat, it was at the blue table next to yours and she was seated with the mother and father of the groom, as well as some admirals from the navy who usually regarded you with a slight of disdain having meet you at naval event alongside your father, but now meet you with apprehensive smiles and a tilt of their glass in acknowledgment. You gave Millie a gentle goodbye and a promise that you would join her for a conversation at another time during the night.

Sarah then guided you to your own seat, the lavender table at the right hand side of the two person table, the groom's side you were assuming, and to your seat, though you probably could have figured that out yourself as placed at it was a placard with gentle swishing writing spelling your name. Thankfully, you were sat right next to Sarah and Rooster would be sitting on your right.

At the table were two other women already and Sarah introduced you to them as Peggy and Natasha, Steve’s fiance and James girlfriend. They’re both lovely women and conversation between the four of you flows quite easily, you discuss your respective careers, learning that Peggy actually works as a nurse in the paediatric unit of your new hospital, and Natasha teaches self defence, and Sarah is a pre-K teacher.

Throughout your conversation you feel eyes burning into you, though not in an unsettling way, more so a questioning way as if to determine if you were who you actually were and as you move your eyes away from the group of girls around you, you find a pretty blonde staring at you from the far lavender table on the bride’s side with a little bit of sadness in her eyes. She sits next to a tall man with dark curls and a soft lilac suit that perfectly matches her dress. She’s stunning and you quirk your head to the side, curious as to why she’s staring at you but, realisting she’s been caught, she quickly looks away from you.

You didn’t realise that everyone (minus the wedding party) were seated until the sound of the wedding march started to play from the speakers within the room and the door opens with the maid of honour and Sam making their way in first, followed by the next bridesmaid and Steve, and then the next bridesmaid and Bradley (who gives you a wink) as he enters, and then the next bridesmaid and James. All four of them make their way across the dance floor and to the couple’s table, where they separate to their respective sides with wide smiles.

“Introducing the newly wed Mr and Mrs Alcove!” Sam's loud tenor voice booms across the room, even without a mic, and in comes the happy couple wrapped up in each other’s arms. You had to admit you thought the bride was going to look ridiculous when Bradley had told you she was wearing a replica of the Cinderella dress, thinking she was going to be wearing the large iconic blue dress, but she looked absolutely stunning in the much simpler replica of the wedding dress from the live action movie. The dress was a beautiful creamy colour with a long, flowing skirt decorated with flowers, and atop the bride's head sat a gorgeous crown. She well and truly looked like a princess.

You smile and clap with the rest of the guests, some of them whooping and hollering as the couple make their way to the table. The couple share a passionate kiss in front of the table, arms wrapping around one another as if they needed the other to breathe, before sitting down and motioning for their wedding party to do the same. The party splits to either side of the table and takes their seat and as Bradley sits beside you, you reach over and place your hand on his thigh, rubbing it gently as you turn to him with a smile that he gladly returns.

---

The meal begins and conversation surges amongst the table, though it’s hushed it brings a buzz to the air and electrifies it. You're enjoying the conversation amongst your own table, Sam was telling a story about how Bradley literally tripped and broke his nose trying to impress someone while they were on deployment with each other. You, of course, laugh along to the story while Bradley leans back in his chair with a bit of a huff.

Once again you can feel the same eyes as earlier on you and as you look up, you’re once again met by the same blonde staring at you but this time she doesn’t look away until Bradley catches her eye. You can feel him straighten beside you as he leans forward, one arm wrapping around the back of your chair as he whispers in your ear, “That’s Molly.” And with that, the staring makes sense, though you’re still unsure how she knew it was you. With Sarah, you had introduced yourself but you hadn’t so much as said a word to the other girl.

Bradley leans back in his chair again, but keeps his arm wrapped around the back of your chair, his fingers rubbing gentle circles on your bare shoulder as you lean back into the chair.

---

After dinner and speeches, and first dances, Bradley joined the rest of the groomsmen to smoke a cigar out the front of the venue, joined by the wedding photographer who wanted to get a few more candid shots of the boys (you assumed she was still going to pose them, but in a more natural manner), leaving you at the table by yourself as Sarah had disappeared to talk to some of her relatives a few tables down and Peggy and Natasha (she insisted on you calling her Nat, but you just couldn’t having stored that nickname away for Phoenix) joined the bridal at the bridesmaids table for a conversation. Your eyes had met with Millies over the crowd, and you had every intention of going over to join the woman and converse with her, but a body landing in Sarah’s seat next to you stops you.

You turn to look who it was, not knowing anybody but those sat at your table, and find Molly sitting next to you. She looks nervous, chewing on her lips and fiddling with the golden chain wrapped around her left wrist, as she looks around for someone. She looks for a good few seconds, making sure whoever she was looking for was not going to suddenly pop up out of nowhere and usher her away, before her eyes settled on you.

When they do, you expect to see rage, jealousy, hate. Instead, they’re soft and kind and hold a hint of sadness in them that you recognise immediately, it's a look you’ve worn yourself. One of mourning a love lost, of grieving over a relationship you would never have, and you realise she’s mourning her relationship with Bradley.

Molly clears her throat slightly and she releases her lips from her teeth as she speaks, “I’m…uh, I’m Molly but you probably already know that.” Her eyes shuffle away from your face in nervousness, settling instead on the sprigs of lavender in the centre of your table, “And you’re (Y/N), right?”

You nod at her question, afraid to open your mouth but still wanting to acknowledge what she was saying, and she gives a small smile. “I thought so. When we were together Rooster would talk about you, tell me stories about the two of you, you look just like he described you.” You flush slightly, heat engulfing your cheeks, you didn’t know Rooster talked about you to Molly, didn’t know he spoke to anyone about you. “You really are as beautiful as he said.”

Molly’s eyes moved away from the lavender, landing on you and she tilted her head to the side with a small sigh. You know she isn’t here to be malicious, especially as she moves to take your hand in hers gently, “I shouldn’t be talking to you. The ex talking to the new girl? People will probably think I’m threatening you” You both let out a small chuckle at that, and you must admit she had a beautiful smile.

“That’s not what I’m here to do, promise.” She looks around her once again, this time you’re able to gather that she’s looking for Rooster, “I just wanted to let you know how in love Rooster is with you.” You’re shocked, and she gives a small giggle at your face as your mouth opens slightly.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty, I am truly happy for Rooster that he finally managed to get you to agree to date him and , but I…I thought Rooster loved me, and maybe some part of him did, but after reading the letters I knew he would never love me like he loved you…” She looks back down to the bracelet on her arm and moves her hand away from yours to play with it again, “And seeing you two together? Seeing how he looks at you like you placed each individual star in the sky, as if you were born from stardust and the cosmos itself? God….”

Your brain finally catches up to you, and you reach an arm out to touch Mollys arm, “Wait. What letters?” Molly matches your confused look with one of her own, raising an eyebrow as she looks at you, “You haven’t seen the letters? He has a whole box of them, all addressed to you starting from when he was in basic and the most recent was one from his mission before he got called back to Top Gun.”

Your head suddenly feels too full, a million questions running through your head. He wrote you letters? All this time? Why didn’t he ever send them? What about them made Molly realise he was in love with you? Where were they now? Why did he keep them? Alongside your racing thoughts, your heart started to beat rapidly in your chest as the same tightness from this morning returned and you struggled to breath. Suddenly the sound of the party felt like it was a million miles away and it was distorted as if you were underwater, the pounding sound of your heart all you could hear, as your head started to feel dizzy and the room started to ring.

You could vaguely feel Molly reach out to you, a look of concern on her face, and she was speaking to you but you couldn’t make out exactly what she was saying. It seemed she called someone because in a second Sarah was at her side, a hand on your arm, she was also talking but you couldn’t make out what she was saying. You tried to relax your breathing, eight in, hold for six, eight out, a few times but it wasn’t working. As you panicked, your eyes moved from Molly and Sarah looking around the room for a way out and finally your eyes caught the edge of the arched doors leading to outside world, and you stand suddenly, knocking Sarah back slightly and mumble out, “I need…I need air,” as best you could given your inability to breath properly.

You rush away from the table and push through the large oak doors, letting them slam behind you, though you were sure no one was able to hear over the pounding bass of the music playing. It was dark out, night having fallen about an hour earlier, with the only light coming from the small porch you were standing on. Your eyes scan around you, the beach spreads out before you with the ocean only a short bit away and in a sudden decision you strip yourself of your shoes, leaving them on the porch, and stalk towards the water, not caring and not really in a rational mind to care about your dress.

You step into the water, walking until your ankles are fully covered and the skirt of your dress floats around you. The cold is a shock to your system and though the freezing cold would stop your panic attack you’re in too deep now for it to work, so instead you look to the sky. Lucky for you it’s a clear night and you can see some of the twinkling stars in the sky.

The stars, the one constant in a world of chaos and if your body was anything right now it was pure chaos. Your thoughts still hadn’t subsided and your heart was still thundering, the tightness in your chest remained the same and it felt like every breath you took was like breathing in shards of glass. You focused on the stars, tracing the familiar patterns of the constellations and picturing them in your head as you go. Slowly your heartbeat starts to slow and then your breathing even outs, your thoughts are cleared as you go over the names and summaries of each constellation you find.

Suddenly strong arms are wrapping around your waist and the scent of Bradley’s cologne fills your nostrils as he pulls you against his chest, saying nothing, just letting you ground yourself and come back down to earth.

The silence lingers for a few moments as you gather yourself, “How’d you know I was out here?”

Bradley chuckles slightly, arms tightening around your waist, “Sarah came out and got me, said you looked like you were having a panic attack and you ran off. Knew you would be somewhere looking at the stars.” You hum lightly in response, leaning your head back against his chest. It’s peaceful for a few seconds before you remember why you had your panic attack. Suddenly you’re pulling forward and turning towards Bradley with your arms crossed.

“Tell me about the letters Bradley”

Rooster curses to himself and avoids looking into your eyes, he knew he should have never left you alone. Should have known that Molly would seek you out, say something that gave away his secret. He brings his hands in front of him, wringing them together over and over again nervously.

“I-I…” Rooster was struggling to find something to say, wanting nothing more than for a huge wave to come and knock into the two of you so he could disappear. Your gaze was piercing, eyes narrowing slightly as he took too long to reply.

“I… I wrote them and then I meant to send them, I promise” Roosters hand carded through his hair, the effects of the products fading as he messed it up by doing so. Still he refuses to look at you, and you huff at it a little.

“Why didn’t you?” You uncross your arms, instead bringing your arms down and playing with your fingers in nervousness.

“Because…” Now Bradley looks in your eyes and he looks nervous, he couldn’t believe himself. Bradley flew F-18’s for a living, went into dangerous situations every day but this was the most scared he had ever been in his life. “No matter what I wrote, even if it was just about my day, about training, no matter the words, the only thing I wanted to write was I love you. I wanted to write it over and over and over again until my hands bled and that is not the confession you deserve.”

You let out a laugh, tears gathering in your eyes, “And this is?” You didn’t want to cry, didn’t mean to, but you were so overwhelmed with emotions that it was the only outlet you had. You still had residual adrenaline in your veins from your panic earlier and you were happy, oh so happy, that Bradley was in love with you, with his confession it was like every nerve in your body lit up at once and the only way you could express it was tears.

Bradley curses under his breath again, reaching a hand out to wipe the tears forming on your lash lines, “God no it’s not. This is not how I wanted to do this.” You let out another huff, rolling your eyes and looking away from him.

“Were you ever gonna do it or were you gonna let me go throughout the rest of my life thinking you didn’t love me back?”

Bradley, who had dropped his hand and turned his eyes away with your huff, snaps his eyes back to yours. He wasn’t expecting that, not in 100 years did he expect you to be in love with him as well.

“You really didn’t know?” He shakes his head, hands now reaching out to grab at yours as you step closer to him. You looked so pretty as you looked up at him through your lashes with a smile on your lips. You reached up to him, cupping his jaw gently in your hand and rubbing your thumb gently across the apple of his cheek.

“God Bradley. You wanna know why all my other relationships failed Bradley? Because I compare them all to you. No one was ever you. I have been in love with you since we were 16 and no other man or woman has ever compared to you.”

Bradley gulps, his adam's apple bobbing as he does, and he watches your eyes looking for any hint of dishonesty. Any glimmer that you were having him on. But there's nothing but love in your eyes, and suddenly he sees what everyone else saw. Pure, unbridled love.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice is soft as his hands move to hold you at your waist and you answer by pulling him down and pressing your lips against his. The kiss is sweet and gentle, your lips moulding together perfectly, but still filled with passion as he pulls you closer to his body. It wasn’t like the books described, no fireworks, no sparks, but rather a feeling of peace. One of home, as if your souls had been reaching out to each other your whole lives and were now touching. And though the kiss is sweet and soft and innocent, you can’t help the feeling of heat pooling in your abdomen as you thought of where this could be heading next.

You pull back from one another, but still stay close as he presses his forehead against yours and you wrap your arms around his neck. You stand like that, simply holding each other for a few moments, until a chill settles in you and you start to shiver a little.

Bradley gives you a small smirk, “Why don’t we head home and get warmed up? Huh?” You smile as he wiggles his eyebrows at you, making an obvious innuendo that you were all too happy to carry out, and nod and, reluctantly, untangle yourself from Bradley, making your way to the shoreline where you notice he’s abandoned his dress shoes. You suddenly turn to him with wide eyes and a hand over your mouth.

“Bradley! You’re dress whites!” He simply shakes his head with a smile, taking your hand in his as he puts his shoes back on, “Don’t worry about it angel. I’ll get them dry cleaned.” He places a kiss on your forehead to calm your nerves before you make your way back to the venue.

You disappear back into the room, your heels now in your hand, and make your way over to the table where Sarah is now sat with Natasha, Peggy, and Molly, who are all looking at you with slight concern. You simply smile and lift your purse, “I’m fine, promise. But we’re,uh, we’re gonna head home” The girls smile and give you hugs as you go, with Peggy promising to stay in touch and Natasha gives you a ‘be safe’ with a wink.

As you said goodbye to them, Bradley ordered the two of you an uber, having had a few beers and you having had a few champagnes and wine, and said goodbye to the groomsmen who are all giving him knowing looks, especially as you approach behind Bradley and place your hand on his upper forearm and rub it gently as you give your own goodbyes to the boys.

The uber is quick in arriving and you and Bradley climb into the back seat, anxious to get back to your place (which is closer than Bradley’s who lives in Fightertown). In the back of the car, your hand finds Bradley’s thigh and you start to rub gently on it, biting down on your lip as you do. You feel Bradley tense at the touch, his eyes shifting to watch you and figure out what you’re doing and he swears to god that the you were trying to kill him with the way you’re biting your lip and looking at him like you wanted to jump his bones right here in the back of the uber.

As your hand ghosts closer and closer to his hardening cock, Bradley has to suppress a groan, instead pretending to cough as he glares at you. You were playing a very dangerous game. He grabs at your hand as it ghosts across his cock, loose enough that you can pull away if you want but tight enough that it sends a warning. You only smile at him, cocking an eyebrow, “Everything okay, lieutenant?”

The sound of his rank rolling off your tongue has Bradley biting back a moan as he throws his head back against the headrest, you were definitely going to be the death of him, and by the looks of it you knew exactly what you were doing to him. Instead of releasing your hand, he threads his fingers through it to stop your hand from wandering and you pout a little in your seat.

The drive to your place was far too long for Bradley, seemingly dragging on forever despite the almost empty roads, but that might have been the frustration bubbling inside of him that only seemed to grow every time he met your lust-blown eyes. When you finally stop at your place, he rushes out a thanks as he all but tumbles out of the car, causing you to giggle, and makes his way to your side, opening your door for you with a goofy grin on his face.

You mutter out a thanks to the driver before taking Bradleys outreached hand and climbing out yourself, you’re barely out of the car before the driver speeds off leaving you and Bradley at the bottom of the path leading to your place. Bradley can’t help himself as he cups your face in his hands and presses a deep kiss to your lips, which you gladly reciprocate, moving your lips in sync as you grab at the collar of his jacket.

You don’t wanna end the kiss, so instead you twist a little and start walking back on the path and Bradley’s hands move from your face to your waist to hold you steady and help prevent you from falling. Your back hits against the front door and you finally pull away from Bradley with laboured breaths, “I… I need to…”

All words vanish from your mind as Bradley starts to kiss down your neck, squeezing gently where his hands meet your hips, stopping at a particular spot that has you whining in pleasure to pay extra attention to it, you could already imagine the bruise that would be there come the morning. At your little sounds, Bradley smirks against your skin and kisses back up your neck making his way to your lips once again, where he places a gentle peck.

“What was that angel?” You roll your eyes at him playfully, turning your back to him with a smile as you start to rummage through your bag for your keys, which would be a thousand times easier if Bradley didn’t preoccupy himself with running his hands over your clothed body and placing kisses against your neck and shoulders, giving you a matching hickey on the other side. Finally, and with a fumbling hand, you find your keys and quickly unlock your door before turning to Bradley and pulling him in by his collar, dropping your purse by the door and pushing it closed with your foot.

Bradley hums appreciatively into your mouth, arms wrapping around your waist once again and pushing you against the door once again. You stay there, kissing each other slowly and passionately, as if you had all the in the world to enjoy each other. Eventually Bradley pulls away from you, laboured breaths fanning against your face as yours fanned against his and you want nothing more than to pull him forward into another kiss but you also know if you continued this here you wouldn’t make it to the bedroom.

You placed a hand on his chest, your blown out eyes looking into his, “I want this off lieutenant.” This time Bradley let’s himself moan at how his rank rolls of your tongue and pulls away from you enough to let himself the room to unbutton his jacket, and for you to bend down and take your shoes (which you put back on waiting for the uber, not wanting to carry them) off, throwing them down beside your purse.

After all the buttons are undone, your hands are spreading across the expanse of Bradley’s chest that was still covered by his hunder shirt until you are moving the jacket down his shoulders and off his body completely. His lips press to yours once again and you run your hand up his chest, and around his neck to play with the little hairs at the base of his neck. With this kiss, Bradley pushes his tongue into your waiting mouth and plays with your own causing a small moan to resonate from your throat.

While your hands are preoccupied, Bradleys are smoothing over your hips and running up the expanse of your rib cage to reach behind you and undo the zip on your dress, which he does quite fluidly and the bodice falls gently from your chest onto Bradleys. You pull away from him again, finger pressing against his white undershirt, “This too.”

Bradley only smirks and gladly removes the offending item of clothing, allowing you to take a step back so that your dress would fall from your frame completely and pool at the ground which leaves you in nothing but the matching set of underwear you put on earlier. Bradley groans at the sight, his hands reaching out to paw at the skin now exposed to him. He grips at your hips tightly, fingers digging into the skin as he does, pulling you close to his body.

“You are so goddamn perfect.”

If you weren’t already flushed from the situation, you most definitely would be from his compliment. You place a hand on Bradleys chest, pushing him slightly so he starts to walk backwards down your hall towards the bedroom, and while Bradley loved seeing you take a little bit of control he couldn’t let you have it all. So he very quickly has you pushed against the wall of the hall, right beside a photo of him and you, with his knee pressed between your thighs and he swears he can feel how wet you are through your panties and his dress trousers, causing him to groan as he kissed you once again. This time a little bit more fervently than the last.

You happily reciprocate, mixing your tongue with his and throwing your arms around his neck to pull him as close as possible. You moan gently as he knocks the knee in between your thigh against your aching core, which only encourages him to do it again only harder. This time you pull away from him with a desperate moan and he smirks at you.

“You like that angel?” You nod your head at him as he presses against you again and this time you grind down to meet the movement, letting out a moan as you do so. The sight of you grinding down on his knee has Bradley groaning and growing even harder in his dress pants than he was before. He needed to have you and he needed to have you now. Quickly, Bradley falls to his knees in front of you, his hands making quick work of discarding your panties, and he moans at the sight of you.

“You’re so wet angel, is all this for me?” He looks up at you through his lashes, hands now gripping onto your thighs and he looks so good between your thighs, pupils absolutely blown so that very little iris remains and a devilish smirk on his face. You can only nod at him, to which he tuts and bites gently down on your thigh causing you to whine. “Come on now angel, use your words like a good girl”

You swear you feel your wetness dripping down your thighs at his word and you bite back the whine gathering in your throat, “All for you lieutenant,” you had noticed the effect calling him by his rank had on him earlier and you were going to fully take advantage of that.

“That’s a good girl”

Suddenly Rooster licks a stripe up your slit, causing you to throw your head back with such force your picture frame shakes and let out a moan, your hand coming to tangle in Bradley’s hair as he continues to lick at your cunt. It goes at it like a man starved being presented his last meal, licking and sucking at your clit as he goes, which has you a moaning, panting mess above him, barely able to utter a coherent word other than ‘Bradley’.

You were teetering so close to the edge now, the coil in your stomach tightening and tightening. Bradley removed a hand from your thigh, instead bringing it round to rub gentle circles on your clit while he pushed his tongue into your entrance, causing you to tug on his hair with such a force that Bradley moaned and that was it, the coil in your stomach snapped and suddenly you were cuming all over Bradley’s face with a choked moan of his name.

But that didn’t stop him, no Bradley continued on throwing you into overstimulation as he swapped his finger and mouth. His mouth latched onto your clit while his middle finger slide into you, you were a babbling mess of ‘too much, too much’ but Bradley wasn’t going to stop. Not when you tasted and felt so good. Slowly he entered a second finger into you and you could feel your coil tightening once again as he moved in and out of you, occasionally curling his fingers to try and find the spot. Which he quickly does, your sharp intake of break and deep moan letting him know he’s found it.

Bradley lets go of your clit with a pop and looks up at you, slightly teary eyed at the overstimulation and with your mouth wide open as moan and moan slipped from your lips. He could have stayed like this forever, just watching you as he got you off with his mouth and fingers. He continued to abuse your g-spot, pressing against every time his finger push into you, watching your face twist in pleasure as he does. God you look and feel so good that he can’t help but reach into his dress trousers to rub at his cock to get some kind of relief, because at this point he feels like he might burst.

Bradley feels you tightening around his fingers and he presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh, “You gonna cum for me again angel?” You nod your head, eyes squeezed shut as pleasure courses through you and the coil in your stomach gets tighter. This time Bradley bites at your thigh and scissors his fingers inside of you, “What I say angel? Gotta use your words?”

You let out another strangled moan, the coil read to snap once again, “Yes lieutenant, gonna cum again.” Bradley smirks against your thigh, you can feel it against your skin as he presses another gentle kiss there, “Go ahead angel, cum for me.”

Another strangled cry of his name falls past your lips as you cum for a second time and Bradley nearly moans at the sensation of you squeezing on his fingers and he can’t help imagine that feelings on his cock when he fucks you. Pulling his fingers from you, Bradley stands once again, smirking at your already fucked out expression, and places his fingers on your lips. Without needing instruction, you open your mouth and suck them in, swirling your tongue around them to clean them off.

“You’re such a good girl angel.” You whimper at his words and Bradley pulls his fingers from your mouth to cup your jaw and pull you into another searing kiss as his other hand wraps around your thigh and pulls it up to his waist in silent instruction, which you follow jumping to wrap both your legs around his waist, your bare cunt now rubbing against the fabric of his dress trousers and against his clothe cock hidden inside, causing a moan to fall from both your lips.

Bradley pulls you from the wall and proceeds to move towards your bedroom, he had spent the night innocently when you first moved in earlier in the week and knew exactly where he was going, never breaking your kiss as he does. Gently, he lowers you down onto your bed before breaking your kiss to stand at the end of your bed and watch you. Your pupils are completely blown and you whine at the loss of contact, which he finds just absolutely adorable.

“Patience angel. Now be a good girl and take your bra off for me.” You do as you're told, reaching behind you to unhook your bra and then throwing it somewhere in your bedroom, as Bradley reaches down and strips himself of his dress pants and boxers. Now, you had heard many a rumour in college about Bradley and how well endowed he was, and you were very happy to say that the rumours were true.

As Bradley’s cock smacks against his stomach, you salivate at the sight of it. You sit up as Rooster crawls onto the bed, strong thighs in between your knees, your chest rubbing against his providing stimulation to your nipples that has you moaning which Bradley takes advantage of by shoving his tongue into your mouth. You moan at the sensation, one hand grabbing at his neck while the other reaches down to stroke his cock.

You rub gently at the tip first, gathering the precum in your palm, which Bradley moans obscenely at, and then you start moving your hand up and down his length using the precum as a lubricant. You smirk into your kiss with Bradley as he continues to moan at the sensation of your hand wrapped around his length, suddenly the sensation of your nail scratching lightly at the underside of his cock has him cursing and stuttering forward. Bradley knew he wasn’t going to last long if you continued your teasing and there was no way he was going to cum unless he was wrapped in your pretty pussy.

Suddenly Bradley grabs your hand from his length, as well as the one on his neck, and pins them above your head with one hand with a small growl that has you clenching your thighs together to get some friction despite having already came twice.

“That's enough teasing from you angel.”

You whine lightly, and struggle against his grip, wanting to touch him, but he simply tuts at your behaviour and rubs his cock through your folds, catching your clit on the tip as he does. You moan at the sensation and let a please slip past your lips.

“Please what baby?”

“Ple…Please fuck…fuck me lieutenant”

You can barely get the words out as Bradley continues rocking though your folds, hitting against your clit every time he does, but you do. Bradley smiles, leaning down to kiss you as he lines himself up with your entrance and pushing himself in. You gasp at the stretch, eyes closing and mouth falling open as you do.

“You okay angel?”

You nod your head, “Yes, feels s’good, keep going.”

Bradley was not one to deny you what he wanted, so slowly he kept going until he was bottomed out in you. God you felt absolutely amazing as you squeezed him trying to adjust to the size. He was definitely bigger than anything you had before, so you needed time to adjust. After a few seconds you're begging Bradley to move, you needed him to move, and so he obeys by pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in again which causes a loud, pornogaphic moan to fall from your lips.

He does it again, and again, hitting the right spot over and over again as he did, which caused you to see stars but you still needed more. “Faster Bradley, please.” Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Bradley moves faster, causing a moan to fall from your lips with every movement. The pleasure was immense, you could feel every part of him inside you, every ridge and every vein pressing against your walls and you could swear his head was hitting against your cervix, and you could feel the coil in your stomach begin to tighten once again.

You begin to babble out Bradley’s name as you approached another orgasm and he threads the fingers of the hand holding your arms down with one of yours, letting the other one go to come down and grab at his shoulder as he pistoned his hips into you, “I’m right here angel, you’re doing so well for me.”

He lets out a deep moan as you squeeze down on him with the praise, pressing kisses and bites to your shoulders and collarbones, moving his way down until his lips wrapped around your nipples as a way to contain his sounds and to stop him from speaking, because if you squeezed down on him everytime he praised you there was no way he was lasting to give you another orgasm, and he was determined to give you another one.

With a sharp snap of his hips, he finds your g-spot once again, moving on from beating your cervix, and instead beating into that spot over and over again causing loud moans and whimpers to fall from yours lips as the coil inside you tightened and tightened again and with a whimper you let Bradley know you’re gonna cum again.

With a pop he releases your nipple and brings his free hand down to rub at your clit to bring you over the edge as he continues his abuse of you g-spot, “Come on angel, cum for me. You’ve been taking me so well.”

With the pressure on your clit and the praise falling from Bradley’s lips you quickly fall over the edge and cum around his cock, the pressure from you squeezing him so tightly causing his hips to stutter as he reaches his own peak, filling you up with his cum. You openly moan at the sensation of him pulsing inside you, the feeling of his cum painting your walls just felt amazing to you.

Bradley quickly presses a kiss to your lips as he pulls out of your sensitive hole, and runs a hand gently through your hair, your little butterflies lost somewhere in the chaos. You place a hand against his cheek and kiss him back gently, your fingers moving to push some hair off his sweaty forehead. As he pulls his lips of yours, Bradley presses his forehead against yours with a goofy smile on his face.

“You’re amazing (Y/N), I love you”

“I love you too Bradley”

Bradley lifts himself off you and off the bed, to which you groan already missing his warmth, and Bradley just rolls his eyes a little as he moves towards the bathroom. “I’m only getting a washcloth to clean up with, stop being a baby.”

You still pout at his turned back, though you are grateful he’s going to clean you up, most men didn’t but then again Bradley wasn’t most men. He’s back in seconds, a damp washcloth in hand and he’s gentle in the way he wipes you down from your neck and chest to your aching pussy where his cum is dripping out, making sure to wipe down your thighs as well before throwing the washcloth in your wash basket.

Bradley gently lifts you from the bed, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he does, so he can pull back the blankets before he sets you back down. Though you are desperate for his touch, and he knows it, he goes over to the drawer he knows you keep your pyjamas in and pulls out and oversized shirt he gave you in college and then he goes to a drawer you had made up for him of some sweats and stuff so he could get changed at your place after training.

Quickly, he slips the sweats on over his hips before making his way back over to you. Your eyes are slightly glazed over and they are struggling to stay open as you fight with sleep, but still you turn to him and match the small smile on his face. “Arms up”

Bradley’s voice is soft but still commanding and you do as your told, raising your arms up so he can put the oversized shirt on you. Once it’s on, he leans on the bed slightly and presses a kiss to your forehead, “You need anything angel? Water? Snacks?”

You shake your head and move over on the bed, “Just you B”

Bradley smiles and crawls into bed next you, pulling you close to his chest as he wraps his arms around your shoulder. Your head rests on his pec while your hand reaches out to rest opposite you, just about his heart, and you follow the rhythm of beating until your eyes are closing and your drifting off to sleep.

---

You wake up to a text from an unknown number of a photo of you and Bradley wrapped up in one another in the ocean the night before, you seemed to be in the perfect position for the moon to illuminate your bodies as you kiss, “You’re souls are so deeply intertwined with one another that even the moon bends to your love xxx Molly”.

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years ago

Text

THE DEAL

a/n: i literally wrote it in less than a day because i was inspired by a movie... of god, i have issues, but ANYWAYS! this one is a classic friends with benefits to lovers story with so much angst and a grandiose love confession at the end so buckle up, you are in for a treat!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEEEEASE give feedback if you enjoyed it!!

pairing: Harry X Reader

warnings: some, drinking, sexual content, a hell lot of it, angst and messy emotions, it’s a lot!!

word count: 11.8k

masterlist

If your life was some romantic comedy his would be the moment where the camera would zoom on you, your eyes blankly glued to the ceiling, makeup from last night smudged under them as a muscular, inked arm gets thrown across your chest, a snoozing man beside you as you have the internal little monologue.

“You’re wondering how I got into this situation, right? Completely naked with one of my best friends after a night spent with heavy drinking and ending up fucking in his apartment until we both fell asleep.”

Yeah, this is probably what the voiceover would say as the camera would slowly get farther from you, Harry’s sleeping figure coming into the frame while you’re still lying like a damn statue. This was not supposed to happen. Not that it was bad, because oh God! Harry really is as good as his ex-girlfriends gushed to you when you met them on night outs. You could never blame the women for falling for him, he has the charm, the personality, the humor and definitely the looks. If you weren’t you, you’d be one of those girls who would do anything to get his attention just for a split second. But you’re not.

Growing up with a single mother that was repeatedly fucked over by several men, you were taught to be the kind of independent woman who needs no man. Who only uses them for whatever reason and throws them away before they could even realize what’s happening. Feelings could never be involved in the equations, those are just not for you.

For a while you thought you weren’t even capable of feeling anything at all. But the way you cried when your hamster you got for your sixteenth birthday died changed your mind and you realized that you are just saving yourself the time of allowing people to make you develop feelings for them and then give them the chance to break your heart. You’ve seen that happen to your mother enough times to know that you don’t want to go through that. It’s not worth it and why would you risk it all when you could easily get what you need and move on to the next one?

Your friends always joked how you’re gonna be the single aunt to their children later who would take them to clubs and honestly? You’re just fine with that. Because you always thought that while your married friends will be busy with keeping their marriage together with whatever pathetic man they chose to marry, you’ll be living your best life without a worry on the world. That sounds pretty good for you.

There’s no need to make it prettier than what it is, you’ve had a lot of hookups the past years but you always tried to keep yourself in check, have some kind of rules to follow so you don’t hurt yourself or anyone else in the process. One of those were that under no circumstances would you ever sleep with a friend. No matter how badly you want to, no matter if they are begging, it can never happen.

But you broke that rule.

Turning your head to the side you look at Harry’s sleeping face squished into the pillow and you almost wince, because you know that when he wakes up, this gonna hurt like a bitch. He’s gonna freak out, or what’s worse, he’ll want to take it further, take you out on a date… be in a relationship with you! And you’ll have to break his heart because none of those will ever happen.

You and Harry went to high school together and he is one of the very few people you stayed in touch after graduation. Though you grew a little apart when you went to different universities, later on you both somehow ended up in New York and while you’re working as a graphic designer at a magazine, Harry is making good money from writing music for other artists. He’s been one of your closest friends these past years and while you’ve always found him attractive, you should have never let this happen, because it will mess everything up and you didn’t want to lose such a good friend.

Harry stirs in his sleep next to you, his hand squeezing your side before his eyes blink open, green irises finding your wide eyes. He stops for a moment, looking around, taking in his surroundings before his eyes fall closed again.

“Wow, must have been one wild night?” he mumbles into the pillow before a raspy chuckle falls from his lips.

Last night, the two of you and a couple of your mutual friends celebrated that Harry has gotten his biggest deal so far, having to write an entire album for an up-and-coming artist, so you all got pretty wasted, especially you and him. It’s a little blurry how the two of you ended up like this, but you do remember wildly making out hidden somewhere behind the bar before he asked if you wanted to come to his place. You stupid little thing, should have said no…

Groaning, Harry rolls to his back, his arm falling from you as he lies sprawled out next to you.

“The tequila shots. Shouldn’t have had them,” you rasp out, a smirk tugging on his lips at your words. “So, um… we both can agree this was a one time thing, right?”

Harry peeks at you, pushing himself up a bit so his head rests against the headboard. The sheets slide down a bit lower on his body, revealing his toned chest and his several tattoos. Memories of you kissing them eagerly last night flash into your mind and you can only hope you’re not blushing like a school girl.

“What if I don’t agree?” Harry cocks an eyebrow and you almost groan. You knew this was going to happen!

“Harry, I’m not going out with you. You know me, I don’t do that. It’s nice that you think that it could work between us, but I don’t do relationships and I’m not changing my rules, not even for you.”

Harry starts laughing, as if you just said the best joke of the century, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. You give him a puzzled look as you sit up, holding the sheets to your chest.

“Who talked about dating, Y/N?” he then asks. “You said last night was a one time thing. We fucked last night. What if that wasn’t the only time we did that?”

You start to put the pieces together, though you’d definitely be sharper if you already had your first coffee of the day.

“Are you trying to start a… friends with benefits thing with me?”

“I mean, you could call it whatever you want. I personally really enjoyed last night and judging from the way you were screaming my name, you did too.” Now you’re for sure blushing. “Why not do it again?”

“This is not a movie, H. I don’t think it’s manageable without ruining our friendship.”

“Have you ever tried something like this?” You shake your head no. “Then how could you know?”

“Have you tried it?”

“Never,” he chuckles. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. We are both cool, smart people. I think we can give it a try and whenever someone is feeling like they had enough, we’re just gonna stop.”

“What if you catch feelings?” you ask, raising eyebrows at him.

“Oh, but what if you fall for me?” he throws the question back with a cocky smirk and you smack his naked chest.

“You know I never do that!”

“I don’t think you can just decide that, but alright,” he chuckles, holding his hands up in defense. “I promise you I won’t catch feelings for you, Y/N. I swear on my…”

“Your mom’s and sister’s life!” you point at him. It’s clear that he thinks it’s silly, but you just keep staring at him until he gives in.

“I swear on my mum’s and my sister’s life that I will not catch feelings for you, Y/N.”

“Alright. And we can end it anytime?”

“Whenever you’ve had enough of me,” he smirks back, so pleased with himself that it’s clear he doesn’t think that could ever happen.

“If you keep that cocky look on your face it’s gonna be a very short deal, Styles,” you warn him, but he just laughs before he quickly pulls you back down to bed, getting on top of you, his hips sinking between your legs and you gasp when you feel that he is already semi-hard.

“Why don’t we get a head start on it then?” he offers, his lips crashing against yours before they travel down your body and soon enough he gives you something that’s a thousand times better than a coffee in the morning.

At first you’re clearly hesitant about it. Not sure if it was a good idea or you just ruined everything between you and Harry, but soon enough you realize that it wasn’t as bad of a decision as you thought it to be.

Harry is the one to call you for the first time, two days after the night you drunkenly hooked up. You’re just leaving the office when he hits you up, asking if you have plans for the night or you’re free to go over to his place. An hour later you find yourself pressed up against the wall of his apartment’s hallway, both of you eager to get each other out of your clothes. Now that it all happens without either of you being drunk, you actually have the chance to think about how good it is with him. He is just the perfect mixture of dominant and soft, knows when to be the boss and when he has to slow down a bit.

He makes you cum three times. Three mind-blowing times, and you also give him two orgasms. You try to make it equal and make it three, but he respectfully says no.

“If you touched my dick again I think I would start crying,” he chuckles jokingly, so you don’t even think about pushing it.

Instead, the two of you order Chinese, have dinner together, talking like you always used to before the deal and then you go home. There’s no awkwardness, no weird situations, not even when you leave. Harry leans closer and for a moment you think he is gonna be corny and kiss you goodbye, but then you feel him smack your ass before pushing you out the door, just like he always did before, joking about how he is gonna charge you rent if you stay any longer.

Nothing has changed, only that you now spend a good chunk of your time together naked, moaning each other’s name before you get back to your usual.

So after that you don’t shy away from reaching out to Harry as well. It becomes a regular thing, the two of you meeting up about two of three times a week. You fuck, hang out a bit and go your separate ways. Slowly, you start to forget about times when you stayed dressed up for more than ten minutes after meeting Harry.

You keep switching between your and his place, but sometimes meet somewhere in the middle. You’ve had sex in a restaurant bathroom, in his car in a parking garage and even in his cousin’s place in Brooklyn. That was a bit odd but still quite pleasing.

Tonight is going to be the first time you’re gonna be out with all your friends and Harry since the deal was made. No one knows about it and you intend to keep it that way.

Once you’re done at work you head home, texting Leticia, another friend from high school to meet you at your place to get ready together. She was Harry’s friend at first, what’s better, she openly hated you at first for some reason.

“You just had a punchable face at fifteen, you can’t blame me,” she used to tell you. It was actually Harry who made the two of you friends and you’ve been close ever since.

You get to your apartment almost at the same time. Leticia starts rambling about her asshole of a boss at the law firm where she works at as you open a bottle of wine to start the evening while you roam through your wardrobe for an outfit.

“Is Leo coming? I owe him a few bucks from last time,” Leticia wonders, digging into your dresser for a pair of tights she can borrow to pair with her leather skirt.

“I think he is, but he is going to be late. He is coming from Staten Island from his dad’s,” you muse, checking yourself out in the red dress you just tried on, not quite pleased with the look, so you quickly work down the zipper and look for something else.

“Um, whose is this?”

Turning around you see that Leticia is holding up a shirt Harry left at yours a few days ago. She is clearly confused about the men’s clothing between your stuff, because you are not one to steal them from the men you sleep with since you don’t really want anything from them to remind you of them.

“Oh, um, that’s… That’s Harry’s. He left it here a few days ago,” you shrug, not making a big deal out of it, but Leticia is nosier than that.

“And why is Harry leaving his clothes around your place?”

“Is that a crime?” you snort, trying to play it cool.

“No, but in what kind of situation did this shirt come off of Harry and end up in your dresser?”

You can’t think of a good answer that would stop her from interrogating you, and the way you’ve just gotten silent is telling her more than words could. She drops the shirt, eyes widening at you and it’s clear that she put two and two together.

“Oh my God! You’re sleeping with Harry!”

“No! I’m… I just—We…”

“You two are totally fucking! What the fuck!” she gasps in complete shock as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Let me explain it, alright? W-We hooked up on the night when we went out to celebrate his big album deal.”

“When I couldn’t go, right?”

“Yeah. So we were both very drunk and it just happened. And I really thought it would ruin everything but we somehow ended up making a deal.”

“Jesus, you guys are acting out the Friends With Benefits movie? Who are you, Mila fucking Kunis?”

“It’s not like that!” you defend yourself quickly, but then you realize that it’s just like that so far. “Well, it kind of is, but the ending won’t be like that.”

“Do you really think you can just do it with absolutely no strings?” Leticia sighs, her hands coming to her hips as she stares back at you.

“It’s been going great, so I really think it’s doable. And if any of us decides they had enough, we’ll just call it quits.”

“Yeah, because it’s that easy,” she rolls her eyes. “One of you will catch feelings and someone is gonna end up crying, Y/N.”

“No, that’s not gonna happen,” you shake your head stubbornly. “He promised it won’t happen.”

“Feelings don’t give a shit about promises! I hope you really know what you’re doing, because I don’t want to have to choose between the two of you,” she grumbles before throwing Harry’s shirt back into the drawer, grabbing the tights she’s been looking for.

Leticia doesn’t hold a grudge for the news she just found out, but she surely has gotten you thinking. Is it really gonna end bad? Why can’t there be a scenario where it goes perfectly fine and no one gets hurt? Harry promised it’s gonna be alright and he has been proven right so far, so why are you having second guesses now?

Arriving at the bar the majority of your friend group is already there, including Harry. You sit across him in the small booth, just exchanging a quick smile before the first round arrives and the evening starts. You allow yourself to take a better look at him while he listens to Mitch’s story and you can’t say that you don’t find him hot. He is wearing a vintage, floral printed shirt, the first few buttons left undone, so you have a nice view of his chest and his necklace you’ve felt under your lips so many times before when you were kissing down his body. He keeps twisting and playing with his several rings and it makes you stare at his hands for a tad bit longer than you intended to. God, he looks so damn good, you really just want to fuck him here and now.

You keep changing who goes up to the bar to order and the third round is yours, so sliding out of the booth you go to the bar and wait for your turn. A young, handsome guy is making the drinks and you clearly catch his eyes.

“And what can I get for you, beautiful?” he smirks at you when it’s finally your turn.

“Two vodka sodas, a martini and three vodka cranberries,” you smile back at him with a hint of flirting in your tone.

It’s kind of second nature to you, a few charming smiles and winks have gotten a lot of free things for you in your life and you never miss a chance to use your advances.

“All that for one pretty girl?” he teases you.

“I would be all over the floor if I drank all of it,” you chuckle, pulling your card out of your wallet, tapping it on the terminal as he finishes up the drinks, kindly putting them on a tray so you can easily bring them over to the booth.

“Don’t worry, I would surely pick you up then,” he winks at you, placing the last drink to the tray before you thank him and head back.

As you take your previous seat you notice that Harry is watching you intently.

“What?” you mouth him over the conversation at the table.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, turning his gaze away, grabbing his drink and focusing back on everyone else.

You go up to the bar two more times, once to ask for some chips and once for some napkins after a drink has gotten spilt onto the table. Every time you exchange a few words with the bartender and you have to admit, he has a great sense of humor paired with his looks.

Sometime later in the evening you decide to switch to water, so you go up to the bar a fourth time, the bartender coming to you right away at this point. As you wait for him to grab you your drink you feel a hand on your lower back. Turning to the side you see Harry standing next to you.

“Hey, want to come to my place after this?” he asks, leaning closer to your ear. His hot breath hits your exposed skin on your neck and a shudder runs down your spine, especially with his hand still on the small of your back.

“You want a rerun of your first time?” you smirk back at him, referring to the drinks you both have had, though it’s definitely not as wild as that night was.

“No, but this dress is making it hard not to want to rip it off,” he bluntly tells you as you glance down at yourself. At last you decided to wear a black bodycon dress that surely shows every dip and curve of your body and apparently Harry has been enjoying the show.

The bartender arrives with your water, his eyes falling on Harry and you see that he is a little taken aback by his presence.

“Hey man, can you get me another one as well? I’ll pay for both,” Harry nods at him and there’s something foreign in his tone that you can’t really put your finger on. The bartender just nods back and goes to grab another water.

“What if I wasn’t in the mood?” you tease him, continuing the discussion where you left it a moment ago.

“Oh, please!” he chuckles smugly. “I saw you eyeing me from across the table, Y/N. I know you are definitely in the mood.”

He is right. So damn right. You’ve been crossing your legs under the table for a while now, feeling your arousal growing every time you saw him run his tongue over his lips or whenever his finger played with the lip of his glass, imagining him doing the same with your body.

Biting into your bottom lip you need to take a deep breath, but when Harry sees your teeth digging into your lip, he loses his patience.

“Or we can just do it now,” he growls lowly, grabbing your hand before he starts pulling you towards the restrooms. You don’t even have the chance to protest, not that you want to.

He is quick to pull you into an empty restroom, locking the door behind the two of you before his lips attack yours, pushing you against the door with vigor and hunger. His hands are already bunching your dress up around your waist and you moan his name when your hips meet and you feel his hard length through his jeans.

“We have to be quick, so no one notices we disappeared,” he pants as he helps you up to the counter, your back hitting the cold mirror behind you.

“Then shut up and just fuck me,” you challenge him and it makes him absolutely feral.

You don’t have time to enjoy it the way you usually do in bed, but the excitement of the situation alone has gotten you so wet that you’re already dripping when he pushes your panties to the side with one hand while his other works on his own pants.

“Fuck, already so wet for me, huh?” he breathes out, his lips brushing against yours before they kiss you fully.

“Just like how you’re rock hard for me,” you grin against his lips, a hand wandering down to his cock as you pull it out of his boxers, stroking it a few times before he pulls a condom out of his back pocket and wraps himself up. “Were you counting on this quickie, Styles?” you ask when you realize that he just had a condom ready on him.

“I knew for sure I’m gonna fuck you tonight, but wasn’t sure how long I’m gonna last,” he grins, capturing your lips again before he pushes himself inside you with no warning, making you both gasp.

“Fuck! Harry!” you moan as he starts moving rapidly, definitely not taking his time like he usually does. He is pounding into you without mercy, panting against your lips as his ring clad fingers are digging into the flesh of your thighs.

“You like that? Like it when I fuck you somewhere public?” he growls, making your legs curl around his hips.

Your hands move up his chest and neck, fingers tangling into his curls and you give them a tug, earning an animalistic grunt from him as he starts going even harder and faster. You’re rapidly getting closer to your orgasm.

“You close?” he pants and you nod. “Come on, cum all over my cock, Y/N.”

A few more thrusts and your walls tighten around his dick, squeezing him as you gasp, riding your high, your head falling backwards, meeting with the mirror behind you. Harry follows you a few pushes later, moaning your name repeatedly before his movements come to a halt and you both take a moment to catch your breath.

When he pulls out you both just quietly clean yourselves up, fixing your clothes and hair so you don’t entirely scream sex with your appearances.

“My offer to come to mine after still stands,” he smirks, running a hand through his hair before you head out.

“Tempting, but I have some work to do in the morning, so no,” you turn him down, stepping out to the dark hallway that leads back to the bar. Harry grabs your hand and pulls you back, his lips smashing against yours, surprising you with his move. He kisses you deeply, sucking on your bottom lip hard before he pulls back.

“What was that for?” you ask out of breath.

“If you’re not coming over, I needed something to have a good night,” he shrugs with a smug smirk before you return to the bar.

You catch the bartender’s look as you finally get your waters and Harry pays for them. You catch the two men eyeing each other for a moment before you and Harry return to the table and you forget about the whole thing.

A Sunday afternoon you’re lounging at Harry’s. You jumped at each other’s bones when you arrived, but now you’re chilling on his couch, watching a series you both wanted to start so you decided to give it a go together. Your leg is lying across Harry’s lap, his hands absentmindedly kneading your thighs. It feels nice, like a massage, especially after how sore he made you earlier, stretching you out more than he usually does with a new pose you tried out.

Your phone chimes next to you and tearing your gaze away from the TV you check to see who just sent you a text. It was one of your coworkers, Anthony, he sent you a raging text about how he still has no idea what to wear to the company party that’s gonna be next Saturday and you realize that you totally forgot about it.

“Shit!” you curse under your breath.

“What?” Harry asks, pausing the show.

“I have this stupid work party next weekend and I totally forgot about it,” you growl, checking your calendar quickly if you can squeeze in a quick shopping spree before Saturday or you’ll have to find something in your closet.

“Aren’t those things nice with a lot of free food and drinks?” Harry wonders.

“Yeah, but I don’t like it, because all my colleagues bring their partners and I’m usually the only single one and they keep trying to set me up with someone,” you roll your eyes even at the thought of having to suffer through another one of those awkward conversations about your love life. Like it’s any of their concern!

“I can go with you if that helps,” he offers and you give him a look over your phone. “What? I’m sure if you brought someone they wouldn’t bug you.”

“But we are not together,” you remind him narrowing your eyes at him.

“They don’t have to know that. It’s a win-win, Y/N. Your colleagues would stop nagging you and I can eat and drink for free,” he smirks, clearly pleased with his little plan.

“I mean… you’re not wrong,” you sigh.

“See? Then it’s settled,” he pats your legs, smirking widely at you, but you’re still not entirely convinced. “Come on, Y/N. It’s gonna be fun!”

“This is so cliché, Harry!” you groan, your head falling back against the arm of the couch. “Pretending to be a couple? Straight out of a damn movie.”

Harry lifts your legs up so he can get out from under them, placing them back to the cushion before he climbs over to you, half of his body pressing onto yours as he squints his eyes at you.

“We can fuck in the bathroom, if you want,” he bluntly offers and you just start laughing at his dirty mind and technique of convincing you. “What? There’s literally no better offer out there. Free food, free drinks and free sex. Really good sex, if I may add,” he points out and you smack his chest lightly.

“Didn’t know you were thinking about charging me for the sex,” you joke.

“Might as well do, baby. Especially if it’s the best you can get,” he smugly huffs and you’d retort something funny, but you get caught up on the name.

“Baby? Since when are you calling me baby?”

“Since we are gonna be a couple next week. Gotta rehearse, baby,” he repeats the nickname and a foreign feeling bubbles in the pit of your stomach. Why is this one little word making you feel things you haven’t before? “And you know what else we can rehearse?” he continues, oblivious to your inner dialogue.

You don’t get to answer upon feeling his hand slide between your legs, fingers gently pressing onto your clothed clit and though you can’t stop a moan from slipping through your lips, you still grab his wrist and pull him away.

“My legs are too sore, I wouldn’t enjoy another round of you pounding into me,” you tell him and you can see the proud glimmer in his eyes that he was the one who got you into this state, though he luckily doesn’t comment on it.

“It doesn’t have to be pounding, then,” he smirks and leaning down he kisses you, taking his time as his hand frees itself from your grip and slides under your shorts and panties, fingers meeting your already throbbing bud.

He repositions himself so one of his thighs are between your legs, his lips never leaving yours as his fingers start drawing circles on your clit, sending pleasure down your body in waves.

“Fuck,” you breathe out against his lips when two of his fingers tease your entrance before pushing all the way inside, curling them between your clenching, wet walls.

“No, we are not fucking right now,” he smirks, never missing a chance to joke around and you want to retort to his comment, but words get caught in your throat when his thumb starts playing with your clit, fingers sliding in and out of you in a steady rhythm.

“So, are we on for Saturday? It’s gonna be fun, hm?”

The little shit is using his fingers to convince you and he has the audacity to ask you questions when you are about to see stars. Sometimes you really do hate how big of a smug fucker Harry is, but it’s hard to feel hatred for him when he is about to make you cum again.

“I-I don’t… Harry!” you gasp when he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, right when you were so close. “I was about to fucking cum!” you growl, raging eyes meeting his green irises.

“I know,” he chuckles. “Say that you’re in and I’ll make you cum.”

“You motherfu—“

You don’t get to finish, his lips smashing against yours as his fingers return, moving faster than before, quickly pushing you towards the edge again.

“Say it. Say it, Y/N,” he mumbles against your lips as your chest is heaving and you start buckling your hips to meet his movements.

“Fuck… Okay! I’m in, just please make me cum!” you whine, hands gripping his shoulders like your life depends on it.

“Good girl,” he smirks and finishes you off without any more teasing.

You cry out his name, fingers digging into his muscles as you push your thighs together, trapping his hand between them while he keeps fingering you oh so perfectly. He makes sure you ride out the last waves of your orgasm before he pulls his fingers out and without batting an eye, he just licks them and fixes your panties and shorts before returning to his previous position with your legs across his lap, starting the show like nothing really happened.

Saturday morning you’re able to quickly get your nails done and Leticia comes with you, the two of you having brunch together afterwards. You go to a new place near the nail salon and as the waiter arrives with your orders, you notice that he slides a napkin onto the table with a small smile.

Grabbing it you see a phone number scribbled onto it. Normally, you send back a smile and tug the napkin into your purse, but this time you just leave it on the table and decide to ignore it.

“What the hell is up with you?” Leticia asks and glancing up at her you see her gesturing towards the napkin. “You don’t seem too thrilled about the approach which is very unlike you.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I’m just… not interested,” you shrug, reaching for your fork.

“Not interested? The dude looks like the lovechild of Chris Hemsworth and Johnny Depp. He is exactly your type, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m just not seeking another hookup right now, that’s it.”

“Oh my God!” Leticia gasps and you give her a puzzled look.

“What?”

“You don’t want other men because of Harry!”

“What? That’s crazy,” you laugh, because she has clearly left her mind at the salon for even thinking that.

“Have you hooked up with anyone else than Harry since you’ve made your little deal?”

“I, uhh… Flirted with the bartender when we were out together.”

“Flirting doesn’t count, not even in relationships.”

“I don’t think many would agree with that, Tish,” you huff.

“Okay, but did you have any interest in fucking someone else?”

“I don’t get it why you are making a big deal out of it. Why would I seek anyone else if I’m perfectly pleased by him?”

“Honey, that’s like… how relationships work.”

“That’s not true,” you shake your head, though what would you know about relationships? Your first and only one was when you were seventeen and it lasted twenty-one pathetic days.

“Are you fucking with anyone else?” She asks, eyebrows raised at you as you shake your head no. “Are you fucking him?”

“Obviously,” you scoff.

“Do you spend time together that doesn’t include sex?”

You are almost quick to say no, but then you realize that would be a big ass lie. Every time he comes over to your place or you’re at his, it’s never just the sex. That’s always primary, but not everything you do. All the dinners, the movies and shows you’ve watched together, when you sit on your tiny balcony with a bottle of wine, talking and laughing like you always did before the deal, something always happens after the sex.

Your silence once again answers Leticia’s question. Reaching over the table she takes your hand in hers, giving it a soft squeeze.

“Girl, you are totally dating Harry.”

Leticia once again manages to put a flea in your ear about this whole Harry thing. You wish she didn’t say a thing, because now you can’t think of anything else than the fact that you really are doing all the things with Harry that people who are dating do.

You get so riled up that you almost cancel on the evening, but you’d hate to have to sit through the evening with your colleagues alone when you said you’d be bringing someone. That would make their usual nagging a hundred times worse. So instead, you suck it up and decide to ignore the issue just for the time being and you get ready.

You were able to find a new dress beforehand, the yellow dress is truly a sight to the sore eyes with the corset-like top and very subtle lace details here and there. It’s a little daring, but everyone goes all out for these parties usually and you definitely don’t want to be underdressed.

Harry texts you that he is in front of the building a little before seven, holding up the taxi he came with so you quickly grab everything you need and head out.

You’re the first one to see him through the glass entrance doors of your building, he is standing next to the car in a simple black suit and a soft yellow shirt underneath. It was actually your idea to match your outfits and he surely understood the assignment, especially seeing his also yellow nails.

Part of you is still hung up on what Leticia told you, but a bigger one is so excited to see him and also very into his look for the evening, that you push your doubts to the back of your mind and step out of the building with a shy smile on your lips as his eyes fall on you and you see his lips part.

“Wow! This dress is… wow!” he breathes out, his eyes raking your frame up and down shamelessly as you walk closer.

“Do you know any other words than wow?” you tease him, biting into your bottom lip.

“Yeah. How about: I would love to bend you over this taxi and take you here and now in this dress?”

Your face heats up immediately, slapping his arm, but then you leave your hand on his bicep and give it a squeeze as your answer: you’d definitely love that if it wasn’t kind of illegal to have sex out on a busy street.

The ignorance in you is so high that you don’t even mind how Harry keeps a hand on your thigh in the car, what’s more, you’re quite liking the warmth of his touch on you. His fingers are gently tapping against the music the driver is playing and he even hums a little along the songs.

“Hey, how is the album writing going?” you ask to break the silence a little.

“Great! They asked for fifteen songs until the end of August, so I have plenty of time, but I’m already done with six,” he beams, and you smile back at him proudly.

“That’s amazing. Can I hear any of them sometime?”

“I mean… if you buy the album?” he chuckles, making you roll your eyes at him. “I’ll see what I can do about that,” he then adds, giving your leg another squeeze before turning towards the window.

The party is just the same as it always is. A luxurious evening to celebrate the company’s success in the past six months, a way to give back to the employees and make them feel appreciated with all the free stuff. It’s nice, but you don’t feel like it’s necessary, people would be happier with a raise after all, than one night of free food and drinks.

Harry holds your hand as you walk in, the majority of the guests already present, music playing and there are several open buffet tables and bars in the gigantic ballroom that was decorated in a forest-like theme just for tonight.

“So you did not lie about bringing a date!” Anthony beams as soon as he sees you, his boyfriend, Pete following him right behind, both of them wearing matching burgundy suits.

“Have I lied to you about anything?” you chuckle awkwardly.

“Plenty of times,” he points out before turning towards Harry. “Hello handsome, I’m Anthony, Y/N’s favorite coworker, and this is my boyfriend, Pete.” They all shake hands, Harry smiling back at them warmly before his hand finds yours again, his fingers lacing together with yours in an instant.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you, I’m Harry.”

“Oh my! The accent!” Anthony gushes, clearly already a fan of Harry’s. “I was really afraid Y/N just said that she is bringing someone so we would get out of her hair this time.”

“I feel offended,” you give him a look, but he just shrugs it off, even though he is more right than he knows.

“Come on, let’s get you guys a drink, we are all sitting over there!”

Joining all your coworkers at the table, you get a head start on the food and drinks, not shying away from stacking everything you like onto your plate. Talking, mixing and mingling, Harry stays right next to you, charming everyone the two of you meet, earning you some approving looks from your colleagues that usually try to set you up with someone they know. This time, you’re left in peace the moment they see Harry with you, his hand always somewhere on you, holding your hand, the small of your back, your hips or waist or, your personal favorite, the back of your neck under your hair. His presence is uplifting already, but his tiny touches just warm you even more on the inside.

“I have to say, Y/N, you are absolutely glowing!” Dianne, one of the editors compliment you when the two of you are at the bar waiting for your drinks to be refilled. Harry stayed back at the table, deep in conversation with Pete about guitars, from what you could understand from their conversation.

“Oh, thank you!” you chuckle softly.

“This man is for sure treating you well. It’s so great to see you finally finding your person.”

She meant well with her comment, but it’s what brings everything you kept hidden in the back of your head out to the front. Tonight was supposed to be all pretending, making everyone believe something that’s not even there, but then why do you feel like it’s real? Like you fooled yourself with everyone else as well?

Your eyes fall back to Harry at the table, who is intently listening to something Pete is telling him and as if he had a sixth sense, his eyes snap at you, a smile stretching across his pretty face at an instant that makes you stomach dance again, heart beating oddly fast.

What is happening to you? This cannot be real, you can’t be having feelings, especially not for Harry. No, you do not allow that for yourself, emotions are off limits for you, because if you fall for someone that gives them the chance to leave you and break you and you’ve seen what it does to a woman. You got enough of the suffering through your mother and you vowed not to let it happen to you. And not even Harry Styles will change that. This is about sex and nothing else, no feelings are involved and that will not change. You won’t let it.

Excusing yourself from Dianne you quickly go back to the table, the refills long forgotten as you take your seat next to Harry. His hand instantly finds your leg as he looks at you with a sweet smile at first that turns into slight confusion.

“Thought you went for a refill?”

“Forget the drinks,” you shake your head, leaning closer to his ear. “You promised me bathroom sex.”

You feel the shift in him right away, how he bites into his bottom lip, his bright green irises darkening at your words, his hold on your leg tightening. His gaze flickers to your eyes and you want to devour him, you want him to take you here and there to prove you that this is all it’s about: sex.

Clearing his throat he mumbles a lame excuse as he pulls you from your chair, tugging you towards the restrooms, you try to keep up with his pace in your heels, but you also can’t wait for him to slam you against the door and fuck you quick and hard.

As soon as you’re locked away from the party in one of the bathrooms, your lips collide with his as he pushes you up against the door, a leg coming between your thighs and you can’t stop yourself from grinding on him.

“Fuck,” he rasps out, hands cupping your jaw as he angles your head just right while your hands are already traveling down his body to reach his pants, eager to get them undone as fast as possible.

However the sudden rush and desperation catches Harry’s eyes and he grabs your hands, stopping you mid-action.

“Hey, everything alright?” he asks, out of breath, concern filling his eyes.

“I just need you to fuck me,” you bluntly reply, but he doesn’t move.

“Okay, but why do you look so shaken up? Did something happen?”

“Harry, stop babying me! I said I’m fine, I just want you to fuck me!” you snap, losing your patience. Not sure if it’s with him or with yourself though.

“You’re obviously not fine! You are snapping at me for being decent and making sure you’re okay!” Harry steps away from you, the moment completely ruined as all physical contact ends with him, his eyes staring back at you in disbelief and you feel like a ticking bomb that’s about to explode.

“It’s not your concern if I’m okay or not. We have a deal, just go with that and leave the rest to me!”

“But above the deal we are friends too. I’m not gonna just… fuck you senseless when you’re obviously upset about something. You’re not in the right mindset.”

“Oh my God, stop being so fucking nice! Stop making these grand gestures and stop pretending like you give a fuck!” You raise your voice and it surely surprises him, but he is still more concerned than angry at your outburst.

“What do you mean pretending? I do care about you! Is that a fucking crime now?!”

“It is because it is for the wrong reasons!” you retort, feeling your throat closing up at the same time. Oh God, you hope you won’t start crying, that will make it even worse. “I think you are taking this pretending a little too far tonight. We are not a couple, this is not real, Harry,” you remind him.

He stares back at you for what feels like eternity and you wish you could read his mind, because you can’t read anything from his eyes, he just stands there like a statue and you feel panic crawling up your spine, slowly digging its claws into your flesh.

And then he finally breaks his silence.

“And would it be so bad if it was real?”

You can’t help a sob that emits from you, feeling like your guts are in a tight grip by his words. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen.

“No, take that back!” you whine.

“I’m not taking it back! Y/N, what we’ve been doing these past weeks is exactly what a relationship is like and you didn’t seem to have a problem with it until a label was put on it. It doesn’t have to change anything!”

“But it is! And you know I don’t do this!”

“Don’t do what? Feelings? You don’t get to choose that!” he chuckles bitterly.

“I do! I fucking do! And I chose not to have them so… this is ending here, because you clearly caught feelings,” you pant in desperate need of getting out of the bathroom, but when you are about to open the door Harry’s hand snaps against it, keeping it closed. You rest your forehead against the cool surface of it, feeling Harry stand so close to you behind, his chest is touching your back.

“Don’t just walk away, we are in the middle of a conversation,” he growls, his voice filled with anger and warning.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” you whisper, shaking your head as you turn around and face him, your back pressing against the door.

“But I do,” he simply replies. “Why do you think you can just run away from feeling anything for the rest of your life? Why would it be so bad if you fell for someone, huh? I know you do have feelings, I know you well, Y/N. You’re not some cold hearted jerk, you are a caring and loving person, so why won’t you let yourself be happy?”

“I am happy the way I am, have you thought about that?”

“No, you’re not. I’ve known you half my life, I know that you want to be cared for, you want to be loved and cherished, yet you push away everyone who wants to give you that.”

“Because it’s not that easy, Harry!” you snap at him. “It’s never just the lovey-dovey shit! Feelings come with hurt and pain and heartbreaks and I don’t need that! I can’t handle that!”

“It’s not always the case! But if you never put yourself out there, you’ll never find the happiness you’re seeking!”

“Well, for me, it doesn’t worth it! I don’t want to fall for someone, plan my future with them and open up to them completely only for them to fall out of love with me one day and decide they don’t want anything to do with me! I don’t want to give anyone the chance to hurt me like that, because I’ve seen what it does to a person! I witnessed it all, Harry! I will not be a victim to that!”

You’re full on shouting, tears rolling down your cheeks at this point. You are letting everything out that’s been bottled up deep inside of you all this time. Nothing can make you believe in the fairytale that will never become your reality and you rather save the time and pain than experiment with it.

What really hurts is that now you are losing your friend. Your best friend. Because the way Harry is looking at you makes it obvious that you’ll never be like before the deal. The hurt, the shock, the panic and the anger, it all mixes in his wide-eyed gaze and it’s like a knife into your chest.

“You promised me, Harry,” you sob, voice now barely more than just a whisper. “You swore you wouldn’t catch feelings but you lied!”

“I didn’t lie,” he simply answers clenching his jaw. “I said I wouldn’t catch feelings for you, but truth is… I already had them. I was already in love with you, have been for a while. And you know what? I think you love me too, but you’re just too afraid to admit it. I know it because I can feel it. The way you touch me, look at me, the way you talk to me, it’s written all over you, but you choose to ignore it.”

“You don’t know shit,” you shake your head vigorously. “You think you know it, but you don’t.”

“Stop denying it, Y/N! You can’t just switch it off! Loving is not as horrendous as you think it is! Yes, it comes with pain too, but the good is always there to make you forget about it. You have to give it… you have to give yourself a chance!”

“I don’t have to do anything, Harry,” you sass back, pushing him away so you have the chance to sneak out of the room before he could stop you. But he doesn’t let it end that easily. Running after you he catches your wrist before you could get out of the hallway, pulling you back.

“Don’t just fucking walk away, Y/N! We need to talk about this!”

“No, we don’t. And I’m done with this. Done with… you.”

It hurts. The words rolling off of your tongue hurt, but you choose to ignore it once again as you shake his hand off of yourself, marching back to your table to grab your bag and leave.

“What do you mean you’re done with me? Don’t do this, Y/N! Let’s just fucking talk!”

Harry keeps trying to stop you, but you’re determined to leave. Your coworkers notice the little scene, but you don’t pay it any attention as you head out of the room, knowing well they’ll talk shit about you behind your back as soon as you’re out of the building.

“Y/N for fuck’s sake just stop already!” Harry snaps, grabbing your arm once again when you’re outside, pulling you back, but you’ve had enough.

“No! I’m not stopping, you need to stop! Stop trying to make yourself believe this is anything more than just the deal we made! It’s not and it will never be, because you don’t get to have the privilege of hurting me, nobody gets to do that!”

“Who said I want to hurt you?! That’s the last thing I would want to do! It’s not as cruel as you imagine it, Y/N. I know that your mum had a terrible love life when you were younger, but that’s not the only side to love! There are so much good about it, so much to fight for and endure with the bad sides, you can’t just throw all of it out the window because you decided love is just not for you!”

“I can and I will. Watch me!” you bite back, tearing your arm out of his hold as you step to the side of the pavement and wave a taxi down.

“Please don’t get into that car, Y/N, let’s talk!”

“We talked enough,” you huff as the car stops in front of you and you hop inside, but just as you are about to close the door Harry once again stops you.

“Y/N, I love you. Please don’t do this!” he begs, so much sorrow and pain radiating from his face and for a moment you fall weak. You almost reach out to him, because part of you hates seeing him like this, especially knowing that it’s because of you. You just want him to be happy, but you know it’s not gonna be with you. You can never give him what he wants and needs. He’ll be better off without you.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out before pulling the door closed and the car drives away. Turning around you see him stand on the pavement, completely broken and shaken, his hands tangling into his hair as he angrily kicks at the dirt before the car melts into the traffic and he falls out of your sight.

You did it for your and Harry’s sake. It had to be done and you are both better off this way. At least that’s what you’ve been trying to convince you to believe.

But why does it hurt so badly then?

Harry tried you calling a million times after you left him at the party, he even came after you and banged on your door for thirty minutes straight, begging you to let him in and just talk, but you didn’t even answer him. Just waited until he left before you curled up in the shower and cried for about an hour.

The calls and texts kept coming in the next few days, but after a while he gave up. He got nothing but silence from your side and one last, long ass text that you didn’t even read because you knew you’d just start crying again, he finally gave up.

You were left alone with all the pain and emptiness and you realized how big part of your life Harry played before. Somehow, everything reminded you of him and you couldn’t do anything without wishing he was with you.

You truly believed that time will heal you, that soon you’ll realize that you made the right decision, but days turned into weeks and nothing changed, you just learned to live with the pain. You stopped going out with your friends and not just because you were afraid of seeing Harry, but because you genuinely couldn’t get yourself to leave the house. Your evenings consisted of binge eating all the ice-cream you could find in your freezer and watching reruns of your favorite shows, but nothing could really take your mind off of Harry.

Day after day you cancelled on Leticia as well until she had enough of your hermit life. She got fed up watching you sink into your pit of sorrow and decided to take things into her own hands and not let you run away from her.

A Friday evening you’re doing what you’ve been doing for weeks now, lying on your couch in sweatpants, scrolling through Netflix when there’s a knock on your door. You wait, hoping whoever it is will think you’re not home and go away, but another obnoxious knock rips through the apartment and you growl.

“I know you’re in there bitch, open the fucking door!” Leticia shouts from outside and you curse the day you became friends with her. Maybe you would have been better off as enemies.

“I’m busy!” you call out, but make your way to the front door anyway, opening it to reveal her.

“Yeah, I can see that. Busy with being a bag of trash,” she comments on your appearance, walking inside without an invitation.

“Jeez, you really did wake up today and chose violence,” you mutter under your breath as you shut the door closed.

Leticia is quick to turn the TV off and open up the windows as you just stand there, not sure what she is doing here.

“When did you clean this place? And when was the last time you took a shower?” she asks, her nose scrunching when she takes a better look at you.

“Okay, did you come here to offend me? Because I don’t need that so please leave.”

“No, I’m here to beat some sense into you.”

“Good luck with that,” you scoff, taking your spot on the couch once again. You reach for the remote with the intention of turning the TV back on, but Leticia stands in front of the screen, blocking the device completely as she stares down at you with a disapproving look, arms folded on her chest.

“You’re acting like a child, Y/N. Avoiding everyone and being mad at the whole world, are you an emo teenager now or what?”

“I’m not mad at the whole world!”

“Okay, then you’re mad at just Harry, still, it’s a mistake.”

“I’m not mad at only Harry either,” you admit truthfully.

“Who else then?”

“Myself?” you mumble, eyes falling closed as you slide lower down on the couch.

“That makes the two of us, but why are you mad at yourself?” she asks, finally moving from her spot in front of the TV as she sits next to you on the couch, crossing her legs as she waits for your answer.

“Because…” you start with a sigh, opening your eyes, but you avoid looking at her, instead, you stare at the wall across you. “Because I can’t fucking stop thinking about him,” you admit and your lips start trembling instantly, just like every time you think about him. “I miss him so fucking badly, Tish! I miss our conversations, I miss his stupid jokes, I miss him raiding my fucking fridge and I miss…”

You bite your tongue, not wanting to admit the next thoughts loudly. Because you miss kissing him, you miss holding him and be held by him. You miss sex too, but you miss the tiny things even more, the way his lips feel against yours, how he smiles against them when you whimper his name and you miss the awkward little things the most. When he accidentally bumps his head against yours or when say random shit right before he pushes into you just to make you laugh, or when he leans in for a kiss but misses it and ends up kissing your nose or just the corner of your mouth. You miss everything about him and you hate him for that, but you hate yourself even more. It feels like your own conscious has betrayed you.

Shutting your eyes closed you let the tears roll down your cheeks as Leticia scoots closer and wraps her arms around you, cooing soothingly at you.

“It’s alright. It’s totally normal, Y/N.”

“It is not! Not for me at least!” you protest pulling back, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hands.

“Stop with the bullshit already!” she growls in annoyance. “You are not some kind of ice queen who is incapable of loving! You love me, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s different,” you roll your eyes.

“Not really. You love your other friends as well, right?” You nod. “And you love your mom,” she adds and you nod again. “Would you do anything for these people?”

“Of course.”

“Do you like spending time with them? Do you care about them in all kinds of ways?”

“Yes,” you sigh, fumbling with the hem of your shirt.

“Do you feel the same way about Harry? Do you care about him, would you do anything for him to make him happy?”

“Yes,” you whisper truthfully.

“Then don’t complicate it. You love him, no big deal! And he surely loves you back, because he told you, right?” You nod. “Then pull your head out of your ass and just let yourself be happy for once.”

“Why are you coming with this too? I was happy on my own too!”

“No, you were getting by,” she points it out. “You were doing good, but you weren’t… a whole. Harry gave you everything you missed, but for some fucked up reason you think it’s the end of the world to depend on someone else partially when it comes to your happiness. Which can be a smart thing, it’s important to be your own person and be independent, but sometimes we need some help from others. From people that love us and we love them back. It’s not a crime, Y/N.”

“No, but it’s gonna end up with me being heartbroken.”

“You already are,” she ruthlessly replies, bringing your attention to what you’ve been trying to ignore all this time. “Hate to break it to you, but this is what that feels like. So why not just go with it, you already felt the pain, now you could go for the good parts as well.”

“I don’t know if I can do it, Tish,” you breathe out, resting your head against the back of the couch. “Even if I did it, I know I would mess it up and hurt him or maybe he’ll do something stupid and hurt me and I don’t think I can handle that.”

“So what? It’s part of the deal. And besides, you’re already hurting each other, so you better get your shit together,” she scoffs, poking your side playfully.

It’s part of the deal. Are you ready to make a new deal? One that you’ve been avoiding your whole life? Are you ready to cut yourself open for someone else and just hope for the best?

Probably not. And probably you’ll never be. But your tactics didn’t succeed so far, you still ended up in pain so why not give it a chance? Even if it’s gonna be the hardest thing you’ve ever done?

“Do you think he hates me now?” you ask quietly, peeking at her scared of her answer.

“He is a bit mad at you for shutting him out, but he could never hate you. That man loves you so much, it’s almost disgusting,” she admits, making you chuckle. “Just… be honest with him and talk to him. You need it. You both need it.”

Harry’s fingers strum against the chords again, trying to get the tune right, but he fails again, a frustrated growl leaving his lips as he lets his head fall forwards. He’s been trying to finish the song for hours, but it still hasn’t come together the way he imagined and his patience is running short.

It’s been hard for him to focus on writing, with you on his mind all the time, everything seems like a hard task. He has written plenty of songs since the night at the party, but he could never use them for his job. One, because they are so fucking sad and depressive and they asked for upbeat hits from him, and two, because they are all so personal, he could never give them to someone else. He can’t let anyone else sing the lines he wrote to you, but you’ll probably never hear them.

Giving up on finishing the song today, he puts the guitar aside and calls it a day. Walking into the kitchen he opens the fridge and realizes that it’s completely empty aside from a bottle of ketchup and a single banana. He’s been such a mess lately, he forgot to go grocery shopping yesterday. Huffing to himself he grabs the banana and reaches for his phone to order something right when his doorbell rings. He is not expecting anyone, but Mitch has been popping in every few days to check in on him since everything that went down with you, so Harry is convinced it’s him again.

“Great timing, do you want Italian or Chinese?” he asks, walking up to the door, but as he swings it open he freezes when he sees you standing on the doormat. “Y/N…” he breathes out as if he was seeing a ghost.

“Hi! I-I hope I’m not bothering you o-or anything…” you ramble nervously.

“No! No, come on in!” He snaps out of his trance and steps aside, letting you walk inside. A feeling of nostalgia hits you right away as you think back at the last time you were here. Just a few days before the party, when everything was different.

“I’m sorry I came without asking, I just… I would say I was nearby, but that’s not true,” you chuckle anxiously as the two of you walk into the living room. You notice that his place is a little messier than usually, but it’s not nearly as bad as yours was before you did a deep cleaning yesterday after Leticia’s comments on it.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. What… What brought you here?”

“I, uhh… I’ve been thinking. A lot. And I have a few things I need to tell you.”

For a moment Harry’s stomach drops, because he thinks you came here to tell him off one more time for breaking your deal, for everything that happened at the party. He is already bracing himself to just let you lash out on him, but it never comes. And when you speak up again, he nearly faints.

“I love you.”

It’s a strong start, definitely a surprising one. Harry’s lips part and his eyes widen, his look almost comical, but you’re not laughing, not now. You have a lot to tell him and you can only hope he won’t throw you out after everything is said.

“I love you and I’m sorry it took me so long to stop ignoring it, but I promise you I’m done with that. And I’m sorry for everything I said to you that night, I was… mad and confused and I didn’t know how to deal with everything at once. I was delusional and ignorant and… a fool for thinking that I could just choose to never have feelings, especially for you,” you add with a tiny, nervous chuckle. “You were right. About everything. That I can’t live without ever putting myself out there and risking it. And I think deep down I knew that, but I was so afraid of getting hurt that I made myself believe I’m good on my own, but I’m not. Not entirely, to be precise. Because sometimes it is worth risking it and… and I realized that you are the person for me who is worth this risk.”

The tears are already blurring your vision, for the millionth time these past weeks, but it feels right now. Opening up to Harry and telling him all of this is hard, but with every spoken word you feel lighter and more relieved.

“I’m sorry if I made you think that I don’t love you, because I do. I really do. You are my best friend and these past weeks have been hell for me without you. I was so keen on avoiding a heart break that I ended up breaking my own heart,” you chuckle bitterly, the first tear running down your cheek.

Harry reaches out and wipes it away with his thumb and you involuntarily melt into his touch. You’ve been starved for it and now it feels like home. When you look up and your eyes meet his, you see that they are red too and it just makes you want to cry even more.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just thought that I was doing the right thing, but I was so far from that. So I’m really sorry and I understand if you don’t want to see me again for the way I acted. I was… a horrible friend and… an even worse girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah. Because you were right, we were more than just the deal and… if you choose not to throw me out after this, I would… I would love to give it a try with you. I want to be the girlfriend you deserve and though I’m sure I’ll mess it up a lot of times, I promise I’ll try my best, becau—“

He makes your rambling stop in the best way possible, lips smashing against yours as he cups your tear-soaked cheeks in his warm palms, pulling you close to him, your arms curling around his waist immediately.

Harry has kissed you several times before, but none of them compares to this. It’s messy and salty from both your tears, but you wouldn’t change a thing about it, the way his lips move against yours, tongues meeting, devouring each other, making up for the lost time and full of promises for the future. You hold onto his shirt at his back for dear life as he just keeps kissing you over and over again until you both run out of breath.

“So, does this mean you’re not throwing me out?” you joke, breaking the silence once you’ve pulled back.

“Fuck no,” he laughs, pecking your lips a few more times before his lips meet your forehead. “You are not leaving this place, ever. You’re trapped,” he adds to the joke and you break out in a relieved laughter.

“Wait, so I’m stuck with you now?” you whine playfully, but all you get is another kiss on the lips, hard and demanding.

“Yeah, forever, baby. You won’t get rid of me now, not after the speech you just gave me,” he smirks down at you, his arms coming to curl around your shoulders as he keeps you pressed against him tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you reply, your heart soaring as you hear those words again from him, this time, not even trying to dodge them in any way. In fact, you just want to hear him say it every minute over and over again for the rest of your life. “And I’m happy to be stuck with you,” you add with a shy smile as his grin widens at your words.

“Yeah? So we have a new deal then?” he teases, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Absolutely.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles au #harry styles imagine

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sunlightwoo · 2 years ago

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blooming days

✁ pairing: soulmate!wooyoung x g.n reader

✁ genre: h…hana….hanahaki au… childhood friends to almost lovers trope, angst, slight fluff, sad ending warnings: mentions of death, descriptions of blood but it’s not explicitly mentioned, reader throws/coughs up a lot of petals | rated: 16+

✁ wc: 2027

✁ plot: if you could be a flower, you wouldn’t be any but rather the thorns that are often adorned on the stems of beautiful scarlet roses. the thorn could symbolize anything, but for you, it’s a constant reminder of the unlucky bond that you have with your soulmate; especially when you can do nothing but cough out petals in secret.

✁ a/n: hello welcome to the halfway point of the desire [rewritten] collection!! this specific piece is actually my part in @th84u‘s a sad smile collab i’m technically late on (i’m so sorry) however i hope you guys enjoyed this piece, even though it’s not a happy ending!! i hope to see you guys on the next part, and please be sure to check out the other authors participating in this collab also!!!

desire [rewritten] navi | ateez masterlist | main navi

“Y/N, hurry up! You’re gonna be late to your own graduation!”

The sound of your best friend’s voice rings out throughout the air as you are rushing out of your room with your cap barely hanging on at the ends of your fingertips. There was a lot of clamor going on in the small living room of your shared apartment, but you knew that it was because of the events that were going on today as you were all struggling to make sure that you would get to your college graduation on time.

After years of struggling together in college, and even through the different phases that you each went through before that, you and your best friend, Wooyoung were finally getting your diplomas and getting away from the hellhole that would mark a new chapter in your lives.

“I’m coming! Am I carpooling with you or what?” You say while putting on your cap for a moment, making sure that you’d look okay in the moment that you were about to head towards the large football field, but he gives you a look before shaking his head in response.

“I’m taking Gaeul with me, but I know Mingi still has room in his car. Besides, we’ll still meet up to take pictures and get food after to celebrate, right?” He offers, making you nod in response as you grin at the very thought of finally being at the finish line of your academic career.

“Of course! We always make sure to celebrate together!”

However, the next couple hours were adamant on proving you wrong as you must’ve lost him in the crowd. In the midst of cheering and celebrating with your mutual best friends such as San, Mingi, Yunho and Yeosang, you couldn’t find the dark haired male that you were dying to celebrate this big milestone in your life with. It wasn’t until your eyes scan across the field to see him embracing his girlfriend in his arms that makes your heart sink for a moment as you watch him spin her around before kissing her with all the love in him.

There’s a bitter feeling that settles in your heart that you wished that maybe he had gone to you first since the two of you had always talked about this moment for as long as you could remember. All the memories building up to this moment such as sharing meals late at night, talking about the professors you had hated and the courses that you were so terribly suffering in; you felt some strange feeling in your heart as you could feel something heavy in your lungs.

A petal falls from the sky as it lands onto the palm of your hand gently and you look to see that it was a petal of a white lily. Little did you know what that had meant for you, for the rest of your life.

You’ve always heard about the tales of the hanahaki disease.

It was one in which you had always felt sadness, pain for those that had suffered because of this rare disease, that just so happened to be a soulmate bond. There were stories that you have heard where the only reason that you would have hanahaki is because your soulmate had not reciprocated the bond’s powers. You think that it could never be you in the chances that this happens, because you couldn’t be bothered to be in love with someone knowing the slim possibilities of them being your soulmate.

You think that it was absurd even, that a soulmate could have that much power over someone’s well being that it could cause for them to have some sort of flower rooting inside of their hearts. However, you were sadly a victim to the hanahaki disease, as sad as it may seem, and the younger version of you would’ve been ecstatic at the fact that you had finally found your soulmate.

You and Wooyoung had always been you and Wooyoung, up until the point that he had gotten together with his now girlfriend in your third year of college. You weren’t sure when these feelings had existed in the first place, when you had always been fond of the said boy platonically.

Was it when he had taken you home from a bad date that made your heart flutter, because it was so late in the night? Was it maybe during that time when you were suffering from a horrible sickness that he somehow was immune to, nursing you back to health when you were bed ridden for over a week? Or was it him always finding a way to take care of you when you were at the lowest points in life, because he knew the right things to say and do so that the smile would somehow still appear on your face at the end of the day.

Whatever it was, you cursed yourself for it as you had slowly been suffering for the past four years of the hanahaki disease.

You had found out that the night of your graduation was the first day that the roots were blossoming in your lungs. Every so often, you would cough up a petal or two of white lilies, it wasn’t until recently that the disease had gotten worse and that you could only take deep breaths in order to live properly. The only person that has ever known about this disease was San, however even with his encouragement these past few years had led to you never doing it, because now you were both sitting in the aisles of a wedding ceremony, watching the said individual get married.

It seemed so torturous, as you were struggling to hold down the white lilies that were almost at full blossom, and you knew that at any given moment, you could die because you never treated the hanahaki.

You watch painfully as the others have given your speech, a sad smile on your lips and you slightly turn to tug on San’s sleeve to point over towards where the bathroom was. He frowns at your state, seeing as though all the colors that were previously on your face were gone and he motions for you to wait for a moment, not realizing that it was your turn to finally give your speech to the happy couple.

“Here Y/N.” Yunho smiles softly, handing you the microphone gently as you take it into your hands. For a moment, you just stared at everyone who was staring back at you in the reception, until your eyes landed on Wooyoung’s calming ones.

You pitied your own heart and the universe for this.

“To the happy couple, I can only wish you the best from here on out. I’ve known you both since our college days, and I couldn’t even imagine how happy the two of you make each other,” You say breathlessly, feeling your own tears pool at the corners of your eyes but you looked at the ceiling to push them away, knowing that you could only blame yourself for never telling him.

“I hope that Wooyoung treats you with all the love that the world has to offer, Gaeul. He’s the most loving, hardworking, but also amazing person in the world, and I’m even honored to call him my other half. I hope your marriage lives as long as the night stars in the sky.”

You give the microphone back to Yunho and turn to leave the reception, heading for the gardens that were just outside of the glass windows. The moment that the night breeze hits your skin, so do the tears that you had been struggling to keep in as you start to cough up more white lily petals into your hands the moment that you found a bench to sit on. Ironically, you were surrounded by orchids and other arrangements of flowers, making you wonder if this was the universe’s cruel way of joking with you.

You had just watched your best friend, and your soulmate, get married to someone else that wasn’t you. It was getting harder to breathe as there were stained lilies in your hands, but you couldn’t see anything else as your tears blurred your vision, and apparently your hearing too, because you didn’t even hear the footsteps that were slowly approaching your shaking figure.

“Y/N…”

You instantly freeze before turning to see Wooyoung standing underneath the moonlight, noticing how he was frozen in his place as well just seconds until he approaches you slowly. His eyes trail down to the lily petals that were in your hands and it doesn’t take long for him to connect the dots, making him wonder how long you had kept this a secret from him.

“I’ve loved you for five years, Wooyoung; five years that I’ve been in love with you from afar, and there wasn’t anything that I could do to prevent this without the factor that I would forget who you are if I got them removed.” You say, releasing the petals onto the ground in front of you and you couldn’t stop the tears that were streaming down your face.

Wooyoung felt like he was slapped in the face as he took a seat on the bench beside you before taking your hands into his warm ones, but you removed them almost immediately, missing the pang of hurt that was obvious on his face. You couldn’t be like this with him, on today of all days, because he was now married, and there wasn’t anything you could do, except blame yourself for not telling him sooner.

“Sometimes, I think about what we could be and what would’ve happened if we turned back time… Like what if I had told you that we were actually soulmates-”

“Y/N, stop.”

His voice quivers for a moment and you turn your head for the first time tonight to look at him as you notice the tears that were pooling in his eyes. Had you been selfish keeping this information from him, knowing that the two of you were soulmates the whole time? Probably, but right now you had nothing else to lose as you knew that there was no other cure for you, because as you looked at the boy in front of you, you could feel the flowers slowly starting to burn in your chest, but not for the reason that you had liked.

“Why… Why couldn’t you just tell me back when you knew?” He asks you in disbelief, standing up to look at you and you shrug for a moment as you thought about it as well, but you knew what the answer was anyways deep down.

“Because I knew that you would never look at me then, the same way that you look at her now,” You bitterly smile, letting out a short laugh before standing up from the bench as if the hanahaki had never existed, “Wooyoung, you’re married now… I’ll be okay, I promise.”

There’s another figure that enters the scenery unfolding in front of you, and you think that maybe the reason he had stuck by you was the same reason that you had been staying by Wooyoung the entire time. Maybe the feeling of your chest feeling lighter from the moment that you confessed to him about the truth was the universe’s second chance for you. You realized in this moment that maybe it was okay that you were now broken soulmates, because you didn’t lose the love that you had for him, nor did you forget about the memories that you two had.

They’d just have to be filled with another soulmate that the universe will give to you, and you wonder if it was the male that had been watching you the whole time from afar; hoping that you don’t die on him the same way that he might on you if you didn’t realize it sooner.

“Maybe we weren’t meant to be soulmates, but deep down, I’ll still love you. Just not in the way that we might want it to be overall in the end.”

taglist: @allyg-onz @viastro @bbanghoonie @wooyoung-a @pwttychannie @sunwoahkim @karsohn @escapewriter @wooyeouu @0710khj @awfullytiredbuthealing @fylithia @myluv-yeonjun @allorysayshi @nlnkm @jannine00742 @yvessaintmingi @jay-scenarios @rebsmoonn @jjhmk @beomgyugyu @ja4hyvn @noempathyy @wccycc @kurosism @ahnneyong @bambi-vixey @comic-wanda (add yourself to the series taglist here!)

cannot tag: @soobin-chois @ineedaherosavemenow @cowboyjaehyun @kpoploverforever27 @xoxozainab

#ateezlovenet #8makes1teamnet #ficscafe #kvanity #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez oneshots #ateez x reader #ateez #jung wooyoung #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung angst #wooyoung x reader #desire [rewritten]

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jeonqquk · 3 years ago

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hi everyone !! my blog has recently hit a milestone and because it's my birthday ( technically on sunday but idc 💀 ) as well, i wanted to celebrate with all of you ! thank you so so much for following me and being a part of this wonderful journey 💕 i’m so grateful to each one of you for having supported me so i’ve decided to do a follow forever !! it means the world that you guys appreciate what i put out :(( so here’s a shoutout to all the amazing people i’ve had the honour of befriending here 💕

@bluejaem :: ( was basically bullied into putting you here 😔 ) NIA MY BESTIE OF 9 YEARS 🤩 pls what would i honestly do without you 😭 your content is gold the reactions ugHHH hate to say it but I LOVE YOU OKAY

@lovinglyyours-jimin :: PRISTINE OMG :(( we’ve talked SO much in the past few months i feel like i've known you for eternities 💕 i love you and i love your blog !! you’re the sweetest person on the planet please keep smiling always <3

@whiteprincessofnohr :: one of my first friends on here 😭 zeta, my dearest, i appreciate you so so much and all the content you put out !! you’re as pretty on the outside as you are on the inside i love you sm :((

@bangtansjonas :: NIIKA YOU ABSOLUTE PIECE OF CANDY 😭 aah i love your mbs saurrr much !! you deserve all the love 💕 the first ever message you sent me was so cute and it’s been a pleasure talking ever since 💝 you KNOW you make my heart flutter and palms sweat angel i love you <3

@taechnological :: SAE HAJSJHAJDJ somehow it’s always me bothering you in the dms BUT YO'RE SO SWEET 😭 your threads are absolute treasure i hope you know that !!

@loverjimin :: words cannot describe how much i appreciate u caitlin 😭 you’ve helped me SO much with my gifs 💕 like i’ve said BEFORE AND WILL NOT HESITATE TO SAY AGAIN — your content is what i log in for. like literally. the colouring and captions are just -chef’s kiss- i’m eternally grateful for your existence in my life !! love you <3

@yuniixoxo :: YUNII you’re probably one of the sweetest person i’ve ever met 😭 you’ve always been so encouraging and supportive of my work — pointing out small things that you admire and making me feel all *!#@*^(&$!*Z% AHHH i love your gifs as well please take care and stay safe !!

@hueseok :: ATHENA BEST WRITER 🤩 you’ve helped me so much thru difficult times and given me amazing advice that i’ll never be able to repay :( your aesthetics are absolutely enchanting and as are you !!

@nuoyi-city :: REN GOD 😭 the shit we’ve done on imessage PLEASE i feel like if we met irl it’d be pure chaos 😔 anyways !! your writing is SO ENTHRALLING i love talking to you 💕

@gimbapchefs :: NAT my fellow simp 😭 every time we talk it’s just us shouting about jikook but honestly. mood. I LOVE YOUR GIFS AND CREATIONS SO SO MUCH and the fact that we’re not besties by now hurts 💔 anyways i always wish the best for u !!

@mochajoon :: ASH HAJSKAL we started talking when i slid into your dms randomly one day and started complaining about being too awkward but u just joined in 😭 it’s been wonderful talking to you all this while !! you’re extremely supportive and i hope you know how important that is for me <3 i love you :(

@skrtbabe :: LISA YOU’RE SO COOL and i love you sm it’s not even okay atp 😭 your writing is so engrossing i hope u know what u do to me 💔 on a more serious note tho — i’m so grateful for having u in my life !! you keep doing you, gorgeous <3

@psycho-mocha :: SHREYA LMAOOOO whenever we talk it’s just 90% key smashing and 10% coherent words 😭 heart eyes for you babe you’re literally the funniest person i’ve met — thank you for being you !!

...and some more mutuals i love and adore but haven’t had the time to get to know very well yet !!

thanks to dumblr’s mention limit, pinned post has all the blogs i’ve mentioned !

# — e

@0429a / @agustdakasuga / @amorjeongguk / @angelggukiee / @aurorajm / @babeejeon / @baepsaesbae / @balenciaguks / @beomgyus / @blaqpinksthetic / @btsiu / @callmelalisa / @chaneljiminie / @cherryjk / @cherryvmin / @chimchiekookie / @cloudbts / @daech-witless / @delugguk / @enluv

#THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH!!!!!!! LOVE YOU TONS 💕#THIS TOO SO MF LONG THO U G H #took^#｢㋢｣ ⸻ intokook.#｢㋜｣ ⸻ babes.#｢㋴｣ ⸻ milestones.#follow forever #follow forevers #milestone #mutual appreciation

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years ago

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in which harry is the right person at the wrong time.

a/n: hi lovelies! here is my christmas fic for @goldenbluesuit ‘s xmas challenge! i chose the song ‘baby, it’s cold outside’ and it’s my FAVORITE xmas song, so i’ve included bits and pieces of the song throughout the story! hope you all like it, and happy holidays! pls rb and send feedback bc they’re very helpful :)

WORD COUNT: 9.6k of ex lovers to lovers, teacher!harry x lawstudent!yn filled with slight angst, missing someone dearly, and fluff

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol consumption

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘BABY, IT’S COLD OUTSIDE’ i’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

17 December 2020

A chilly and snowy night was upon you as you took a shot of hard liquor. The face of disgust appeared on your face as the liquid slowly went down your throat after you hammered the shot of tequila.

Normally, you wouldn’t pregame when you were going to your friend, Addie’s, house where you would drink some more, but you needed to shake off your nerves that you felt at the moment. You took a deep breath after taking your second shot and you had physically felt yourself starting to relax.

Rolling your head to stretch your neck out, you decided it was time to leave since it was nearing seven in the evening. You called yourself an Uber because of the alcohol in your system and you were planning to sleep over Addie’s place since she said she would bring you back in the morning before you had to go to work.

You waited for your Uber by the front door while you looked in the mirror, putting your black beanie onto your head. You were bundled up in a black university sweater, a camel color coat over, along with tan lounge pants and a pair of black boots. Once you got a notification that your Uber driver, Jason, was in front of your house, you grabbed your overnight bag and headed out the door.

You placed the hood of your sweater over your beanie so you got more warmth since it was quite cold. You were never one for the cold weather, which is unfortunate since you lived in London. You cherished the days where it was sunny and warm; the sun bright and warm as you laid on the grass in complete content.

You missed those days. You missed the days where you didn’t worry about a singular thing.

Looking out the window, on your way to your destination, you watched the snow slightly fall, hitting and building up on the ground while the pedestrians walked through the streets, bundled up in thick layers of clothing. Some people were with others, walking hand in hand or hugging each other through the cold. Even though it was freezing cold outside, there were smiles on their faces because the hold of one another was enough. They could get through the worst snowfall, but if they were in each other’s arms, it wouldn't matter; they could get through anything.

The cold had reminded you that you were missing a pair of strong arms that should’ve been around you through this season, but you were completely frozen—left out in the cold to warm yourself up.

You sighed and the car stopped in front of Addie’s place. You thanked your driver, wishing him a ‘Happy Holidays’ before you got out and buzzed your best friend’s apartment onto the buzzer system; hearing one back, you entered the complex while brushing your shoes onto the floor mat, so you wouldn’t slip while going up the stairs.

You were grateful the building was warm, and you’re sure Addie would crank up the heat for you since you would always complain how ‘bloody cold’ it is all the time.

Once you opened the door, you were met with your entire friend group who were all lounging around in the living area. They all faced the door once you walked in, seeing who the last friend to arrive. Greetings were sent towards you, Addie and Nic got up from their spots on the couch that they’re going to lose because behind them, Elijah and Niall were getting up from their spots on the floor to steal it.

“Hey! There you are! We were all waiting for you,” Addie said, giving you a hug.

Nic went in for a hug before she pulled back and looked at you suspiciously. You looked at her confusingly, wondering why she was looking at you the way she was before she said, “Did you party before you came here?” You furrowed your brows until you remembered that she probably smelt the alcohol that you took before you left.

“Oh, uh, just took a couple of shots before I came here.” The two girls understood quite well, thankfully.

“No worries! Come join,” Addie welcomed you in. The two went back to the living area, only to see that their spots were taken, so they grabbed the two boys’ arms, yanking them out of their seats. You chuckled as you walked to Addie’s room to put all of your belongings.

Once you did that, you exited her room the same time the bathroom door opened across her room. The person in front of you was the reason why you were so anxious before you left; why you needed to relax for a bit and mentally prepare yourself before going to Addie’s place.

The person in front of you was Harry Styles.

The person who had your heart.

The person you were deeply in love with still.

The person who was your ex boyfriend.

“Hi,” he said surprisingly, smiling a bit.

“Hi, Harry,” you replied, inching towards him as he met you halfway. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders as you did the same around his waist, resting your cheek onto his chest. The hug was warm and comforting, like it always was, and you looked forward to these kinds of hugs every time you saw him. But your heart ached every single time.

Pulling away, you gave him a small smile before you two walked out of the hallway and to where your friends were. There was laughter between the two girls and guys as Niall was telling them a joke. Nic was the one who saw you and Harry first, and her laughter died down. She looked at you concerningly, giving you those eyes as if they were asking if you were okay, and you nodded your head to reassure her. You and Harry join the group; you sat on the loveseat on one side of the rectangle wooden table, while Harry sat on the floor on the other side.

You tried joining in on the conversation and laughter, but you couldn’t help but take sneaky glances back to Harry, only to find him getting glances at you as well.

It was hard to focus on anything your friends were saying when Harry was in the same room, but you realized it was also difficult when he wasn’t in the same room because then you were wondering where he was.

It wasn’t easy being friends with Harry after the breakup, good friends, especially; and it pained you to actually act normal around him when all you wanted to do was scream, cry, and have him comfort you. But you did your very best to maintain a cool, calm, and collected mood whenever you’re around him, although inside, your heart was racing and everything you said seemed incoherent.

You tried your best to avoid him after you two split, and he did as well, but being part of the same friend group just didn’t go well with your wishes. You two had to suck it up and be normal around each other.

Being with Harry was possibly the best eight months of your life. To some, it’s not the longest amount of time, but he was one of a kind; you couldn’t find anyone out there like him--not like you were looking anyways. It genuinely felt like you’ve been together for years, and when you two were celebrating your six month anniversary, your friends had questioned you saying ‘It’s only been six months?!’

Your relationship with Harry was all things blissful. It was pure happiness and love, and you wouldn’t want it with anyone else. You two rarely got into fights, and if you did, it was most likely a petty and annoyed argument that would have you two back in each other’s arms only twenty minutes after. He was your fresh breath of air that made you laugh and orgasm…multiple times.

It was all smiles and laughs until it wasn’t.

You two had gotten together the second semester of senior year. Meeting at the library because you couldn’t reach a book, it didn’t take long for you both to get together. You had known him for two weeks until he asked you out on a date where he kissed you for the first time. The dates and kisses continued on for six months until you mutually decided to call it quits.

It wasn’t an easy decision, but considering that Harry was going to a different school that was in a different country for his master’s degree in education for the fall semester, and you were also in the midst of your career; interning at a law firm didn’t quite clear up your schedule, only making you busier by the hour. There was barely any time for the two of you to spend time with each other with how busy and hectic your lives were, so there would most likely be no calls coming in or distant texts that were sent out to make it seem like the void had disappeared.

Like two mature adults, you and Harry called it quits after the summer. He moved away to get his master’s and you kept yourself busy at the law firm. It wasn’t easy--still isn’t easy, but it was for the best. The both of you needed to focus on your careers and yourself before you two were ready enough to get back together. That’s if Harry wanted to get back together anyways.

Of course you wanted to get back together with him, but you didn’t know where he stood on that, or if he was even seeing someone. Throughout the two years that he was away, you only saw him during summer and winter breaks, so he could possibly be seeing someone whenever he goes back to school. But now that he had moved back again, your mind was spiraling because now you got to see him more.

Finally, you broke out of your trance, once again thinking about Harry, you saw him looking at you. The both of you completely tuned out to the conversation and laughter coming from your friends. You held your wine glass up, Harry doing the same while smirking before you both sipped your drinks, hoping the sweet wine would relax your bodies.

Nic was picking out a small paper out of the Santa hat Addie was holding. She took a quick peek at it before, smirking to herself before Addie moved over to you for your turn. As you chose your Secret Santa, you hoped it was a good one. It’s not like you didn’t love your friends, some of them were picky, and by some, you mean Nic.

You looked at the piece of paper, smiling before shoving it into your pocket. Addie moved onto Harry who was the last one to choose, and you watched him as he looked at the paper like it was a poker hand. He raised his brows, smirking before he looked up and started to fold the paper. Your eyes looked down at his polished hands, noticing that he still wears the same rings as he did when you first met him. Your favorites were his initial, thinking how incredibly sexy and alluring they looked on him as he walked around confidently. You’ve stolen them multiple times as well, even if they were too big on you, but the thought of walking around with Harry’s name on you just seemed so enticing.

Niall’s laughter brought you out of your sensual thoughts about Harry’s hands and you realized you were caught staring, and Harry knew exactly what you were looking at with the amount of times he’s caught you staring and fantasizing about his hands. Plus, you openly told him that you had a thing for his hands.

A smug smile was seen from Harry, so you took your attention away from him and towards your friends.

“So, what do we say? $50 limit?” Nic suggested, and Elijah rolled his eyes.

“Why are you trying to make me broke? You know I have a huge family, like, 15 cousins!” Elijah debates.

Nic gasped dramatically. “I’m offended you don’t consider us family, Eli!” Elijah playfully rolls his eyes again, turning his head to the side as he smiled into his shoulder, blushing a bit.

You chuckled at their playful banter. You’re a bit surprised they hadn’t gotten together yet because ever since you met them, you could practically feel the tension between them. They were just too stubborn to admit that they liked each other.

“Okay, how about we make it maximum $30?” Harry pitched in. Your eyes had immediately averted to him, and it was like he captured you just by the sound of his voice. “We have exactly six days to get our gifts,” he added. Your friend group has always been one for procrastinating. Everyone is so busy these days that it gets harder to plan hangouts where the entire group could go, but you were all family, so if the gatherings were at three in the morning, everyone would be there.

The group agreed, telling him that was a solid number. You caught Harry’s eye and he softly smiled at you. Giving him one back, you suddenly felt nervous as he smiled, so you chugged the rest of your wine and walked to the kitchen to open a new bottle to bring to the living area.

The bottle made a loud pop sound, which earned an in sync ‘Woo!’ from the group as it was a tradition you all created whenever a new bottle of wine was being opened. Smiling to yourself, you poured yourself a glass before downing it. As you were doing so, Harry walked into the kitchen with his own glass in his hand.

“Hogging all the wine, aren’t you, Y/N?” He teased to clear the awkward and anxious tension between you two, and luckily, you stifled out a giggle.

“You know me and my wine.” You refilled his empty glass while taking a sip of yours. Once you fill it halfway, he clinked your glasses together before taking a sip. His lips meeting the sweet but bitter taste of red wine that you so wished was your lips. The way he curled his lips into his mouth and licking his lips, tasting the flavor had you daydreaming such sultry things about his lips.

You cleared your throat, breaking yourself out of your gaze. “How are you, H? How’s work?”

Harry’s cheeks warmed up at the simple nickname. “I’m doing good, yeah. Work is good. The school is great.” This was Harry’s first semester teaching, and he absolutely loved it. He loved being in the classroom setting, interacting and making sure his students understood the material. He wanted to teach elementary kids, but that would require knowing various subjects when he wanted to focus more on ninth grade English.

“I’m happy for you,” you confessed. You were happy for him, but you wanted to be happy with him. “I know you’re a great teacher, and your students must love you.” You bumped him with your hip gently.

“They’re great. A couple of them have this weird crush on me for some reason.”

“I mean how could they not.” You realized you said that out loud, and you’re fully blaming the alcohol and the few glasses of wine that you already had, leaving you with a rosy cheek tint glow. Harry didn’t say anything but smug as he continued to sip on his drink. You slipped past him to join your friends, and Harry followed. Addie gave you a knowing look, hoping to communicate with just her eyes as she saw you and Harry walk out of the kitchen together, and you simply nodded, gesturing that you were okay.

The rest of the night went by quite fun as the boys helped Addie hang up the rest of her decorations while scoffing and rolling her eyes because they weren’t cooperating. You and Nic were sitting on the floor watching and laughed, pouring yourselves more glasses of wine. Your heart skipped a few beats as you watched Harry the entire time, laughing and smiling, and sometimes looking over at you just to get a simple glance at your face to suffice his heart from the heartache of not being able to hold or kiss you.

You’ve always liked shopping alone. Shopping with Nic and Addie could be stressful, no matter how much you loved them. You would only go to the shoppes with them if you weren’t looking for anything to buy, but since you were Christmas shopping and the stores were getting busier counting down to Christmas day, you had passed on their invitation to shop with them. There was nobody bugging or nagging you, causing you to get distracted; just you, a basketful of snacks, and Christmas music playing through your headphones.

You couldn’t wait to give your Secret Santa gift because you’ve put a lot of thought into it ever since you found out who your receiver was. You’ve been doing Secret Santa with your friends since the third year of college. At first, your friends group was only you, Nic, Addie, and Niall—you’ve known Niall since you were sixteen, and you met the girls your first year of uni—until Nic met Elijah during the second semester of junior year, who was quickly accepted, and then you met Harry.

You’ve all become a close knit of friends, and each and every single one of you have met other people, but there was nothing like this group. With bonding and connecting so well, all you needed was each other, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

As you were looking at the collection of whiskey, you felt a body brush passed you, slightly bumping into you as they tried getting through the narrow aisle. You jolted forward a tad bit, making you take a step forward to let the person behind you pass through.

“So sorry,” the familiar voice said. The music playing through your headphones was not even halfway up since you still wanted to be aware of your surroundings, but you could recognize that voice anywhere.

Turning around to look at the person behind you, sure enough, it was the one and only.

“Harry?” You called out, taking out your headphones. He turned around, and once he saw you, he immediately smiled.

“H-Hi. I didn’t expect to see you,” he nervously blurted out a false statement. He knew that this was your go to store and you would always drag him there because they always had your favorite snacks in stock.

You chuckled. “Yeah, I didn’t expect to see you here either.” Unlike his statement, yours was true. When you were with him, he would always ask you why you couldn’t stop at any of the other shops because this one was on the other side of where you lived. But you simply told him that it was because you would feel like you would be cheating on this store with the others because this was your go-to place, and the employees here were just lovely.

“Shopping for yourself?” Harry asked.

You looked down at your basket. “Oh, no. For my Secret Santa. What about you? What are you doing here?”

“I, uh, I was on this side of town and,” he turned around to face the wine section before grabbing a bottle of Pinot Noir. “Just needed to get this,” he said as he held it up.

“Night in?”

“Hmm, yeah,” he nodded.

“With…someone, or?” You tried your best to not show your anxiousness when you asked him if he was having a night in with someone that’s not you.

Harry’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No, no. Not with anyone…” Your shoulders relaxed and a small smile appeared on your face. You slightly nodded your head, containing your relief. “You look great!” He complimented. You were wearing your work attire; a black pencil skirt with a white silk, semi turtleneck long sleeve, and a black coat thrown over. You were also in nude heels, which weren’t the best to shop in, but you had forgotten to bring a change of shoes.

You blushed. “Thank you. I came here straight from work.” Harry’s brows raised. You were always one for a sense of style, so he wasn’t surprised that you would look this good going to work.

“Really? How is work going, by the way?”

“Good, actually. I’m still interning at the law firm, so I’m pretty busy. But overall it’s great! A lot of research, mock cases, and sometimes the interns get to sit and watch in the courtroom. It’s pretty thrilling,” you said excitedly. Harry smiled, missing how you would explain things so eagerly. “This is my last year interning, so hopefully I could work at the law firm I’m already interning at, and become a permanent lawyer there.”

“I’m sure they’d love to have you there. You’re great, really. They’d be stupid to let you go…” he trailed off. There was a double meaning to his words, and you were wondering if Harry thought he was dumb enough to let you go. Not wanting to dwell on his words any longer, you murmured a soft ‘Thanks’ to him and smiled. Harry nodded, mentally beating himself up over his words and how he was really the stupid one to let you go.

“I, uh, should go, or my sister will be suspicious,” you chuckled. “I hope you have a great night, Harry.” You grabbed a bottle of whiskey before walking passed him. You weren’t even done shopping, but you couldn’t be in the same room as him without thinking of the memories that had always lingered, making you nostalgic and sad because you don’t know if you would be able to make more memories with him.

Harry was left alone in the aisle as he watched you walk over to the register to pay for your items. Just when you were done, you looked up, giving him a soft smile and waving at him before you turned around and walked out of the store. Harry’s heart fluttered, but at the same time, it was pounding through his chest. He mentally cursed himself for being so nervous around you, making an awkward tension fill the air. He couldn’t tell you what you were really doing at your store--no, he couldn’t.

Because what would you say if he told you that he’s been going to your store ever since you two broke up and whenever he’s in town just because it reminded him of you. The four walls somewhat mended his broken heart as he felt comfort inside of the shop because some of his best memories of you are in this very store. And since he couldn’t step into your apartment to immediately feel at home, your favorite store would have to do…for now.

Right when you entered Addie’s home, you were met with the loud music of the holiday season, along with Addie, Nic, and Elijah singing the lyrics to one another as they jumped and danced with a glass of their preferred alcohol in their hand.

They hadn’t heard the door open since the music was quite loud, so you took the opportunity to take a quick video of them as you smiled at your lovely friends, who felt so careless at the moment. Once the song ended, you put your phone away, and Eli was the one who spotted you first.

“Ah, there she is!” He walked over to you, giving you a big hug. You giggled as he slightly picked you up from the ground and twirling you. You were sure that he was already buzzed, and you were wondering how many glasses he’s had already, or if he pregamed by himself to calm himself down for talking to Nic, just like you had done to prepare you for a night with Harry, which you hadn’t done tonight.

There was a part of you that wanted to take a shot or two to ease your nerves, but you realized that you needed to stop doing that because as far as you know, you and Harry are most likely going to be friends for a long time. So, drinking almost every week did not sound fun to you.

Nic poured you a glass of wine, clinking your glasses together as you took your first sip of alcohol that night. You helped Addie set up the food onto the table along with some Christmas designed plates and utensils. Just as you were counting the utensils, you heard a loud Santa laugh coming from Niall, making everyone turn their heads towards the door. Niall walked in, carrying a bag-full of presents and Harry followed with a three foil wrapped aluminum trays in his hands as he chuckled at Niall’s way of making himself known. Your face immediately heated up at the sight of your ex-boyfriend because he looked good.

Although you loved every version of Harry, there was something about Harry Styles in the snowy winter that made your knees weak. He was bundled up in a sweater with a coat tossed over, and he wore boots. His hair was slightly messy from the wind as he shook off the snow that had fallen onto his locks. His nose was always red too, and when he would press a kiss to your cheek, you would feel the icy cold tip of his nose, contrasting to your warm cheeks. And it’s a tragedy that you’ve never spent a winter season with him when you were together, only two Christmases after the breakup.

Winter Harry was your favorite, and all you wanted to do was snuggle up with him.

Niall and Harry made their rounds to greet everyone, and Harry would always make sure you were the last one he greeted, just so he could hold and hug you a little longer.

“Merry Christmas Eve, Eve,” you said once he got to you. He smiled and chuckled, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You laid your head against his chest, taking in his scent and natural warmth, even though he just came from the cold. “What’d you bring?” You asked once you pulled away.

“I brought the cheesy garlic bread, brussel sprouts, and crab cakes,” he smiled.

You gasped. “Your specialty. My mouth is already watering.”’ You clapped your hands in excitement.

Harry giggled, leaning against the kitchen countertop. “Sure is, and it’s some of your favorite dishes of mine too,” he remembered. You blushed, heart fluttering as he didn’t forget your favorite foods.

Harry was always a chef of his own; he loved cooking. Learning from Anne, he made it his mission to make his own homemade food after he moved out, and she would always tell him that you could always show your love through food. From there, he learned more about cooking and seemed to love everything about it. Whenever the group has gatherings for special occasions and everyone agrees for a potluck, Harry always made sure to talk to everyone and see what they wanted him to cook.

When you two were together, he did the majority of the cooking. There would be times when you wanted to help, but he would simply tell you that you needed to let him do it and relax. That was something you loved about him—he was always a giver and didn’t expect to receive anything back, in more than one way.

You and Harry were definitely ones for staying in, and he would always whip up the best food that was filled with so much love and flavor.

“Once you two are done loving over there, we’d like some help over here!” Niall called out from the dining area. Your eyes widened as Harry’s cheeks turned pink. Harry held his arm out, gesturing you to go first, and you walked out of the kitchen as he followed behind you.

The group’s attention and eyes were on you and Harry, and your brows furrowed as you mouthed a ‘What?’ at them, and they instantly went back to setting up the food as if nothing happened. You turned around to look at Harry confusingly and he shrugged his shoulders, just as confused.

The music was playing, the decorations were lit up, and the food was settling into everyone’s stomach, followed by drinks as a warm feeling laid over everyone. It was overall a great time with them as it always was, and since Christmas was coming up in just two days, the merry feeling was always everyone’s moods.

As everyone was laughing and having a great time, Addie had gotten a knock from her neighbor, asking if everyone could keep the volume down. Everyone was holding in their laugh because you all hadn’t realized how loud you’ve gotten.

“I’m pretty sure they knew it was going to be a long night when it was just the three of them dancing and screaming,” you pointed out to Addie, Nic, and Elijah, and they all laughed, agreeing.

“Wait, what?” Niall asked confusingly.

“Right when I walked in, they were screaming at the top of their lungs. Wait, I have a video.” You pulled your phone out of the front pocket of your sweater and showed Niall the twenty second video.

He cackled. “Hey, thanks for waiting for us,” he teased, giving your phone back to you.

You leaned back onto Harry’s leg, since you were sitting on the floor and he was sitting on the chair behind you, and you looked up at him to show him the video. He leaned forward, placing his forearms on his thighs as you shifted closer to him so you were sitting in between his legs. Harry’s lips curled into his mouth, and he was grateful that you weren’t facing him because he was flustered. You pressed play, and he watched as he chuckled, watching his friends have a good time.

“Wait, I also wanted to show you this video,” you mentioned once the video was over. You scrolled through your pictures, and Harry was watching you go through your camera roll. He saw pictures of buildings, food, you and the girls, and some of them were just of you. Before he could really think about your own pictures, you found the video of your family dog and showed Harry.

As you and Harry were watching the video, your four other friends were eyeing you two and whispering things to each other suspiciously. Nic took a few pictures of the moment because the sight was just so cute, but everyone was wondering when you two were getting back together.

And you were wondering the same.

For a few minutes, you and Harry were in your own little world as you two talked about your family; never making the effort to change the position you were in--you had just turned your body so you could see him better. You’ve missed times like these where everything else, outside of the bubble you two created, didn’t seem to matter. The way his eyes gleamed when he talked to you had lulled you in, making you depart from every thought you were trying to create while the only thought that dawdled was Harry.

“Alright, let’s pass out our Secret Santa gifts before we’re all too drunk,” Niall suggested, popping yours and Harry’s bubble. You moved out of between Harry’s legs to sit beside him where you were before. You looked up at him, softly smiling and he gave you one back. His eyes looked like they wanted to say something, and you so badly wanted to crawl into his mind to know what he was thinking.

Everyone agreed, getting up to grab their gifts. Addie also grabbed the Santa hat that you had to wear if it was your turn to pass out your gift. The Santa hat had been through four Christamases with the group, and it was the little things that made you happy.

Addie decides to go first since she was the host. She put the Santa hat on before she started. “First one! My Secret Santa is…Elijah!” She walked over to him, giving him her gift as he smiled, thanking her. He opened her gift and gasped as it was a new headset for his PlayStation since he was always talking about how one side was completely dead. Addie placed the hat onto his head as he grabbed his gift.

“So, this one is for…” he smiled before walking over to the other end of the couch. “Nic.” Her eyes widened, taking the gift from his hands, and he took a seat next to her on the floor. She ripped open the wrapping paper before she paused, looking back at him. It was a large rectangle frame of pictures of her and Eli with a note in the middle saying ‘4 years as best friends, countless laughs, and one question unasked. Will you go on a date with me?’ Nic squealed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. It was like he was proposing to her because she screamed out a loud yes. “Life is too damn short. I can’t wait to go another day without calling you my girl, so I wanted to take my chances,” he told her. You smiled at them, realizing it’s been too long, and you were so happy for them.

It was Nic’s turn, which she completely forgot about because she was so overjoyed, and she walked up to Harry to give him her gift. He thanked her before opening it, receiving a set of nail polish, a few face masks, a vanilla candle, and a gift card to one of his favorite restaurants.

Harry was up, and he was a bit nervous for this one. You knew that it could either be you, Niall, or Addie since you were the three left without gifts. He stood in front of the fireplace as everyone looked at him. You thought he looked absolutely adorable in that Santa hat, which you think every single year. He slowly walked over to Niall, making him beam, but turned around and walked over to you, earning a ‘Hey!’ from Niall.

“Merry Christmas Eve, Eve,” Harry greeted you, handing you your gift. You smiled brightly, grabbing the box. It was a quite heavy box with brown wrapping paper with reindeers on it and a large red bow. “I wrapped it myself,” he smirked, playfully flipping his shirt hair, and you giggled.

You ripped the paper and opened the box, eyes softening. In the box, there was a graphic tee, your —and his—favorite fresh perfume by Jo Malone, five pens with your first and last name engraved in the middle, a Cravings cookbook from Chrissy Teigen and a yellow and white vertical striped apron with the words ‘Summer Lovin’ with a sun embroidered at the top. Your eyes watered at the words at the special but emotional meaning behind it.

Two months before you and Harry broke up, you knew it was the end. You both agreed that you would spend two months together before you had to part ways with one another. It was the most special and fun summer you ever had, but emotionally, it was the worst. Knowing that you weren’t going to be together anymore by the end of it was behind the facade of the endless laughter and love. You really didn’t want it to be over, but you understood and needed to grow separately and blossom with your careers.

The words behind the embroidered apron was from one summer night. You and Harry had a bonfire at the beach, and you were cuddled up with him as he held a blanket around the both of you. You had tequila disguised like water as you held your bottle up to the best summer loving. You wished the circumstances were different, but if it’s meant to be, then he’ll come back to you.

“You’ve always wanted to learn how to cook and I’ve seen that you’re starting to on your Instagram stories, so I thought these were the perfect things to get you so you could be a proper chef now,” he said with a soft smile.

Harry truly paid attention to the small details of your life. Together or not, he intently listened and observed without anyone knowing. He nailed it down to the small details; from the perfume, the pens, and the apron. The sentiment behind it was what made the gift so special, and the person who gifted it to you completed and made it so much better.

As your vision had gone glassy, you sat on your knees, reaching up at Harry for a hug. He bent down to your eye level, sitting on his knees as well as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. You held him tightly, sniffling into his shoulder as a rush of overwhelming emotions hit you. Your heart fluttered and pounded at the same time—a feeling that was familiar to your body when it came to Harry.

“Thank you so much. This is the most thoughtful gift ever,” you said into his shoulder. This gift was number two on the list of gifts you’ve received from him, following Harry himself as your number one, of course.

Harry pulled his head back slightly to press a kiss to the side of your head. The gesture had made your heart swoon and you smiled against his shoulder. Everyone was watching you two interact, and they all thought this was finally the moment where you two would get back together again. They’ve all seen you two suffer enough being without each other, along with the heavy tension that there was. All they wanted was for you both to be happy.

You pulled away from him, looking up at his green eyes as they stared into you. He offered you a small smile that took your breath away before he wrapped one arm around your shoulder, bringing you into his side as he wasn’t quite done holding you.

After a few minutes, your friends had let you have your moment before Niall complained how he didn’t have a gift yet. You and Harry chuckled, letting go of one another, and he placed the Santa hat onto your head before you slowly started walking over to Niall. When you handed him his gift, he cheered happily before opening it. You had given him several customized guitar pics with his initials printed onto them, a leather notebook since he liked to write songs, and Proper 12 Irish Whiskey, which was fitting because he’s Irish and he likes Connor McGregor. He thanked you with a big hug, picking you up off the ground with one arm as he held the alcohol bottle in the other.

Addie was the last one who hadn’t received a gift, and Niall was her Secret Santa. He gave her a bunch of makeup with your help, and a tupperware set, which she had been asking for since everyone always took her containers because she liked hosting so many parties.

The rest of the night had gone on for a few more hours before everyone was pretty tired, deciding to call it a night. Everyone helped clean up, making sure to help Addie with the dishes and putting or throwing stuff away. Although you were cleaning, you loved your entire group. This was your family--the closest people to you. The ones who know everything about you and would laugh at you when you fall before falling with you. You were entirely grateful for everyone in this room, and you couldn’t have asked for a better group to spend more holidays and days with.

After the cleaning was done, Niall and Eli started to head out, not before Eli was satisfied with the amount of goodbyes he gave Nic with how long the hug was. Niall had to physically pull him off, telling him the Uber was outside.

You were washing your hands before Harry walked over next to you, handing you a towel to dry off your hands. “Thank you,” you muttered, shyly smiling.

“Uh, I wanted to ask if you wanted to come over?” He proposed. Your brows raised at his question. You and the girls had planned on having a sleepover after, but the prospect of going home with Harry had sounded much better (no offense to your friends).

“I was planning to sleepover here…” you decided to innocently tease, even though you knew you were going to say yes.

“I already asked them, and they said I could take you. I could drop you back off here if you want. So, the answer is up to you,” he smirked. A blush appeared onto your cheeks, admiring the fact that he asked your friends for permission if he could take you home.

“There’s bound to be talk tomorrow,” you teased, lightly nudging him.

“I’ll take my chances,” he smiled, a hopeful look presented on his face.

You breathed out a chuckle, looking at him for a moment before you nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go.” Harry’s eyes widened as the corners of his lips turned up. You grabbed your phone and your coat before walking over to Addie and Nic who were both cuddled up on the couch, saying goodbye to them. They sent you a playful wink, and you rolled your eyes as nerves startled to settle in your stomach.

You followed Harry out of the door, the cold air brisking past you as you walked to his car. He opened the passenger and you thanked him before getting in. Harry started the car and the song that was playing was ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside.’ It was a song you loved ever since you were a little girl, and you remembered the times you and your mom would always sing it in the car. You smiled at the memory, humming as you hoped it would be a way to distract you from the anxious feeling that you have.

You started humming to the tune as quietly as you possibly could, but Harry heard it as he started to hum it as well. You looked at him through your peripheral vision, noticing that he started to tap his fingers against the steering wheel.

You were about to start singing until you noticed that he pulled into his driveway, so you contained yourself and closed your coat, getting out of the car as you followed him into his home. You’ve only been inside his home three times--those three times being when he would suggest everyone hang out there. It was a lovely place and whenever you were sitting on his couch, you had wished you shared the space with him.

Harry lit up the fireplace, placing the metal shield in front of it before turning back towards you and smiling. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to get us some hot chocolate, if that’s alright?” He asked, wanting to know your preferred drink.

“Sound good.” You hung your coat onto the coat rack before walking over to his turquoise velvet couch and taking a seat, getting comfortable to an extent, not knowing how comfortable you should get.

Not long after, Harry came back with a wooden tray, and he placed it on the coffee table in front of you. There were two mugs filled with milk, two hot chocolate kits, and spoons.

“I made these for my students, and I just so happened to have two extra kits, so this will be fun,” he smiled, and you gave him one back appreciatively. You thought that it was cute and sweet of him to give something to his students for the holiday season. Normally, teachers don’t give them anything, but Harry wasn’t just any other teacher.

A somewhat comfortable silence fell over you two as you both made your own hot chocolate, and you listened to the fireplace roar. Once you two were done, you clicked your glasses together before taking a sip. The warm and comforting drink made you smile and was overall delicious.

Harry didn’t know what to say or how to say what he really wanted to say. It felt like he had non stop thoughts running through his head, but when he opened his mouth to start, there was a delay. An overwhelming feeling took over him and he wanted to yell at himself for not saying how he really felt.

“Y/N-”

“Harry.”

Just like before, your minds had been in sync, causing you both to speak at the same time. A light laugh came out of both of your mouths.

“You go first,” you told him.

Harry took a deep breath. “How’re you doing?” He asked. Out of everything he could have said, that was the only question that came out of his mouth, but he figured it’s a good start to getting somewhere.

“Truthfully?” He nodded. “I’m doing okay. I’ve managed to distract myself from worrying about the future with work, and so far, it’s been helping.”

“What are you worried about?” Harry wondered curiously. He could feel his heart pounding through his chest, and if he’s being honest, it’s been that way the first time he saw you…ever.

“Worried if I’m gonna be where I want to be career wise, and…” you trailed off.

“And what?” He encouraged you to continue. His stare was so intimidating and deep that the words flew off your tongue, making them unforgettable. “Ba--Y/N?” He called out for you, noticing how he almost slipped up and called you ‘baby,’ and you so wished he hadn’t stopped himself.

You finally mustered up the courage to speak your thoughts. “I’m afraid that I’m gonna be alone,” you said honestly.

Harry’s brows furrowed, shaking his head instantly. “You’re not alone, no. You have your family, all of us--your friends, me-”

“You?” Your brows raised.

“Yeah-”

“Harry, you’re the reason why I’m so worried…” you confessed. You were starting to get frustrated--not at Harry, but at yourself because you had planned to have this conversation a different day. You tried to calm yourself down, and Harry could practically see that you were getting angry at yourself. You had a certain stressful and frustrated look that he would notice when you started to beat yourself up over things. And throughout the months of being with you, especially when you were in the midst of law school, he learned how to calm you down.

Harry placed his hand on your knee; the touch being unexpected to you, but it had brought you immediate comfort. He pulled you into his side and you rested your head on his shoulder, looping your arm under his, the one that’s on your leg, and hugged his arm. Harry’s other hand touched your arm, caressing and soothing you. His actions had felt very natural and familiar to him. He would comfort you like this when you were feeling stressed. Normally, he wanted to cuddle you tightly, but this was your preferred way to calm down because in a way, he was still holding you, and you were still in control and didn’t feel like you were suffocating if he had held you tightly.

You stayed like that for a few moments, and you had calmed down a bit already, but you just wanted to be close to him and cherish the moment.

After a few minutes, you pulled away and turned towards him, smiling softly. Your heart warmed at the fact that he remembered exactly what to do when you started to feel anxious, and you may have fallen in love with him even more…after all these years.

“Now, wanna tell me why you’re so worried?” He asked softly, not wanting his tone to be pressuring, and you’re grateful for it.

“I’m worried I’m going to have to live a life without you. It terrifies me to think about you going out and meeting someone, and I would have to watch you get married to someone else that’s not me. That you would be sharing this home with someone that’s not me.” Your eyes start to water, and you had mentally told yourself that you wouldn’t cry, but you didn’t believe yourself in the slightest. “Watching you love someone else is going to be the most difficult thing I would have to do.”

Your tears had fully fallen down your face, which is unfortunate because you both had such a good day with your friends and it was nearly Christmas. Quickly wiping your tears away, you got up from the couch, and headed towards the door. Harry was confused until he saw you grab your coat, putting it on. In a flash, Harry got up from the couch, walking towards you.

“W-What are you doing?” He asked.

“I really can’t stay…” you told him sadly. You had no idea how you were getting home or back to Addie’s since it’s snowing, so you don’t know if there were any Ubers out, especially at this time. “This evening has been…so very nice, Harry.”

“You don’t have to leave. Baby, it’s cold outside, c’mon,” he pleaded with worried eyes. Your heart melted at his words and the name that he used to call you, making you pause in your movement.

“Please,” he pleaded softly, taking a small step forward, and your breath hitched in your throat as you looked up at him. There was a dead silence between you two that was tension filled, and you had no clue what was going to happen next until he opened his mouth.

“Mind if I move in closer?” He whispered. The sound would barely be audible if anyone else was there, so he said those words specifically for you to hear.

You shook your head, and he took another step forward. Your bodies were a centimeter away from being pressed up against one another, and your heart was beating so fast, making your hands shake and tremble. He looked down at you so intently that you were under his spell, and you were conflicted as you wish you knew how to break the spell as his green eyes looked deep into you, luring you in even more.

You took a deep breath. “Kiss me already,” you breathed out. Harry’s heart nearly stopped at your words, but he slightly smirked as he blushed, brushing your hair behind your ears before taking your face into your hands and leaning down to place a deep and passionate kiss onto your lips.

This feeling, this touch, this man was what you’ve been waiting for these past two years. Throughout those years, you felt like giving up; accepting the fact that he wasn’t going to love you again. But he had proved you wrong in the simple brush of his lips and tongue that were in sync with yours, making the spark between you grow bigger and bigger. The spark that had never lost its power, but was on pause.

You grabbed a fistful of his shirt, pulling him closer as the other hand was wrapped around his back. Harry had you pushed up against his front door, and you had the urge to lift your leg up to wrap it around him, but you resisted.

Harry wanted more, too. His hands trailed down from your face to your back, closing the nonexistent proximity between you, and guided you back to the couch. You were walking backwards, completely trusting him that he wouldn’t let you fall as his lips never left yours.

You giggled once the back of your legs hit the couch, falling onto the soft material as Harry hovered over you, laying in between your legs. He looked at you for a moment, studying every freckle, the crimson color on your cheeks, the curve when you smile, your glimmering eyes, and your cute nose. He knew that it was exactly how he remembered. After a couple of years being separated, a beautiful face like yours was hard to forget.

“You’re quite crazy to think I’d want to live the rest of my life with someone else when you’re right in front of me,” he suddenly said. Your eyes widened at his confession. “Never wanna be without you ever again. Thought you didn’t want to be with me when I came back, so I just didn’t bother. But you have no idea how much I missed you. I missed you so much.”

He placed soft kisses all around your face as he spoke, leaving you feeling so tender and soft as he was so gentle with you. For someone who’s on her way to becoming a lawyer and always having to have an answer for everything, you were speechless. The words that you’ve been waiting for for so long were music to your ears. It rolled off his tongue so smoothly, slick like honey, and you connected your lips with his again, swirling your tongue against his as you devoured his words. Hands finding their way to his hair, you gripped on his locks and pulled just the way he liked it, earning a groan from him, and you smirked against his mouth.

You pulled back, leaving him breathless. Swollen lips, blushed cheeks, and smiles plastered on his face, you said the words you’ve been itching to say. “I love you,” you blurted out. The words had rolled off your tongue so effortlessly, making shivers run down Harry’s spine as his eyes watered up. “I was listening to Elijah earlier, and he’s right. Life’s too fucking short to not have what you want.”

He took one of your hands into his, bringing it up to his lips before placing a kiss onto the back of your hand. Your other hand was playing with the curls that laid delicately on his hands, scratching it lightly.

“Missed hearing you say those words.” He smiled, tears making their way down his face. “I love you too. So, so much that you have no idea how I feel when you walk into the room and I see your beautiful face. I love you. I love you. I love you, baby.” His affirmations had caused you to softly sob—the two of you a crying mess from the obvious but unspoken love that was finally being released again. “It’s always been you. You’ve always been my girl, did you know that?” You tilted your head a bit. “Never gonna go a day without reminding you that you are, because you’ve never not been my girl. Had to love and admire you from afar, but just wanted to hold you and kiss you.”

“You can kiss and hold me all you want now, my love,” you reassured him, and he dug his face into your neck, placing a soft kiss against your skin.

You smiled so brightly as your heart felt so happy and overflowed with love, and he matched your grin, feeling the same way.

The two of you kissed each other for a bit more, whispering sweet words, and laughed and talked about anything and everything—truly catching up with one another.

“Oh.” He got off of you, making you slightly pout from the weight of laying on you that you already missed. “I actually got you another gift.”

“Harry…you already got me enough.” It was true. Along with the thoughtful gift, he was your true Christmas miracle.

“I know. But this one, I wanted to give to you in private, and this is the perfect moment, so let me do this?” He looked at you with sweet and pleading eyes with a small smile on his face. Who could ever say no to that adorable face? Certainly not you.

You nodded, and he shot up, heading towards the stairs. “Give me thirty seconds,” he said before rushing up the stairs.

You heard him shuffling up there, and the sound of a drawer opening and closing. Thirty seconds later, he was walking downstairs, holding a white box wrapped in a red bow. He sat back down next to you, looking into your eyes as he spoke.

“This is what I wanted to give you when we were alone. It didn’t matter the outcome of how things turned out between us tonight, I just wanted to give you this because I think you’ll appreciate it. It reminded me of you when I saw it, and I knew I had to get it.” He handed you the box with slightly shaky hands.

You untied the bow, taking the top off. A gasp came from your mouth as you picked up the chain. It was a little gold sun pendant, symbolizing your summer together. You studied the charm for a moment, delicately touching it as you teared up at the meaning behind it. It matched quite well with your embroidered apron, and the two together would be quite the match.

“Thank you, Harry. This is so sweet of you.” You leaned forward, giving him a hasty kiss to his lips, smiling against them. “Help me put it on?” He nodded eagerly. You handed him the necklace before turning around, lifting your hair. You felt the cool metal chain hit your skin along with Harry’s lingering touches across your shoulders, causing your skin to pebble. He placed a quick kiss to your neck before pulling away. You turned around to meet his eyes as you smiled.

“Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.” He kissed your forehead. “I’m so happy. Merry Christmas Eve, Eve, baby.”

“Merry Christmas Eve, Eve, my love.”

You cuddled into his side as the silence took over. The only thing was heard was the pounding of your love-filled hearts along with the cracking of the fire. Sure, it was cold outside, but right here in Harry’s arms, you were warmer than ever.

please come into my inbox and talk about your thoughts and feelings on this! also feedback is appreciated, thank you for reading! <3

#GBSxmaschallenge #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #boyfriend!harry #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles dirty one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x yn #harry styles au #harry #harry styles

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cheswirls · 2 years ago

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[ actually have not been current w/ JN for a while now but i saw the screencaps for JN132 and my little heart went crazy over sereharu hints. this is a future drabble so i can get my love out of my system for the moment aha ]

lisia had given them the weekend.

two days to rush to kanto and back, because there was no way they were missing the celebration of such a high accomplishment by one of their mutual best friends. even amidst the craziness that came with the end of post-season, and with their exhibition performance for the first contest spectacular of the new year very much right around the corner, they had been given these two days off.

"i expect you back bright and early three days from now!" lisia declares through the small screen of may's pokenav. "we need to tighten this performance to the max! nothing less than perfect for the princess of hoenn."

serena leans over in her seat so she's in view while may distractedly turns to gawk out of the plane window. "heard crystal clear! i'll make sure she's back in one piece." she says this with an open-mouthed grin and a mock salute than has lisia hiding a smile in turn.

"um, excuse me," may chimes in, turning back to attention. "we'll look out for each other. right?"

"then i'll count on the both of you," lisia says before serena can reply. "have a safe flight. i'll see you when you get back."

the screen blips off, leaving serena and may staring at their reflections, hands still raised to wave lisia off. may drops the pokenav to her lap and leans back with a sigh. "i've never flown out of slateport before," she admits. her eyes skirt to the window again as they start leaving the ground.

neither had serena, but it couldn't be helped. taking a boat all the way to kanto would eat at too much of their free time. she reclines back into her own seat, leaving may's space, save for the hand she wraps loosely around may's own, threading their fingers together.

"first time for everything." she grins, a sudden thought coming to mind. "imagine his face when we show up together."

may has a good laugh at this. "we'll deal with that when it comes." she raises her other arm high above her in a stretch. "this is going to be so much fun. i can't wait to see everyone again."

"i can't wait for you to introduce me."

may only laughs again, squeezing serena's fingers tight.

•

the ketchum house is just a tad too small for such a large crowd, leaving the oak lab as the only proper substitute.

at first there had been chatter about hosting at the sakuragi lab in vermillion instead, since it was closer to kanto's main port and central airport. but it wasn't a true ketchum homecoming without being in pallet, and not one of the people invited were upset about making the trip out.

may has been here before. serena has known this, and yet it's different to hear than it is to see, and she can see now. may is confident when she pulls them up the well-worn path up to the laboratory. she knows exactly where she's going, and she has ever since they landed their connecting flight in viridian.

hoenn is temperate year-round, and serena has been there long enough to forget everything else. she's never been to kanto, so the bite the weather has surprises her.

may had laughed at her, but in the end she'd handed over her open sweater without fuss, swinging it around serena's shivering shoulders and securing it with warm hands.

she fumbles with the edge of a sleeve now, while waiting on the porch steps for someone to answer the door. rubbing the knit fabric against her fingertips, feeling decidedly warm in the chilly weather.

the door opens and may greets the redhead that answers enthusiastically. the attention turns to her too soon, but before may can introduce them, serena's name is falling from the girl's lips easily, like she's known serena for an eternity.

"you must be serena." she extends a hand. "my name is misty. i've heard a lot about you."

serena believes it. she's been recognized so easily that it's hard not to believe. it takes no effort at all to shake misty's offered hand.

inside is hectic, but not more than she'd been expecting. they're not the last to arrive and there are several that couldn't make it. misty mentions brock being swamped with work, and a few kids from alola are visible on the other end of a video call.

may is bombarded by people she hasn't seen in years – and not just people. an overly-enthusiastic bulbasaur climbs into her arms and she releases serena to catch him properly.

"hi, baby!" she exclaims, swinging the pokemon around. "it's been a minute, huh? have you seen your trainer? well, what a shame. i'll keep you company."

she shuffles bulbasaur into one arm so she can grab serena's shoulder to pull her close. "you haven't met, hm? this is serena! serena, this is one of the resident pokemon of oak's ranch."

bulbasaur raises a vine that serena shakes. "nice to meet you," she laughs. bulbasaur, satisfied, opens his mouth to babble to her in turn.

may screams loudly into her ear and serena flinches back. the culprit is another girl their age who squeals back from across the room. serena suddenly finds her arms full of bulbasaur when may deposits the pokemon to run off, meeting her friend in the middle. serena's shoulders sag, watching them converse rapidly with a tired smile.

"how mean of her to leave you," she pouts down at bulbasaur. "c'mon, let's go find people you know."

at some point in the night she's locked in conversation with the man of the hour, may talking with someone else several paces beyond them. after a minute the subject switches, ash nodding behind her shoulder.

"so. you and may, huh? gotta admit, i was surprised to find that out tonight."

"uh, yeah." she laughs a little nervously. "sorry you didn't find out sooner."

"you've been busy." ace shrugs. "so have i. s'no big deal. still. you really picked a good one."

"right." she watches ash's gaze move beyond her again, where she knows may is. she knows that. she also knows, more than anything, how differently things could have turned out. knows ash could've had a shot with her, back then, if he wanted it.

you missed out, she thinks, looking on with pursed lips as someone new comes up to congratulate ash. you had your chance already.

thinking this way does nothing substantial in the end, and she knows it, so she backs off. goes back to may, who's waving someone off, head slowly turning around the room. looking, serena realizes. her feet move on her own.

"may!" she calls, just a few paces away. may turns, eyes big and arms wide, and her expression grows fond when she finds who she's been looking for.

serena mirrors her smile and does something spontaneous. spurred on maybe by ash, or by all the extra attention her girlfriend has been getting that evening, or maybe just by the need to show they're together, she reaches out and jumps the last step forward.

may catches on, arms ready to swing serena into a hug, twirling them both in place. they're both laughing when she stops, hefting serena higher with both arms around her waist.

serena tips down and pushes a stray lock of hair behind her ear. may's grinning wide and she doesn't feel like disturbing that, so she presses their foreheads together instead.

"you've got a lot of energy," may notes. she squeezes tighter and tips them back, careful not to overbalance but not clueing serena in, leading to her swinging her legs in protest.

"don't don't don't," serena cries, raising her head and placing both hands back on may to ensure she doesn't fall. "the floor is so hard. if we hurt ourselves lisia will kill us when we go back!"

"relax, babe." may shifts her higher up and spins around, making serena gasp and grip harder, her legs shifting forward on either side of may. "we're not gonna fall. i'm stronger than that. watch!"

serena doesn't watch more than she experiences, protesting again when may shifts her higher, leaving serena's hands on her shoulders for balance. she's probably the tallest person in the room now and the commotion this causes is no one she's prepared for. "okay, you've proven your point! let me down!"

"trust me," may sings, swinging them around again. serena yelps and pitches forward, but the sound is nearly drowned out by may's laughter. she holds serena tight by her legs, leaving her to dangle over one shoulder, cheek pressed to the back of may's nice blouse. may's sweater hangs loose over the rest of her, rendering her into little more than a pastel blob with nice legs.

"see? see?!" may laughs and bounces around. "i've got you! see? aren't i strong? aren't i the best?"

serena lets her head flop so her hair hides her face from view. may's attitude is infectious, leaving her muffling giggles into her girlfriend's back. that is, until they spin around one too many times and the wooden flooring starts to swirl. "may," she tries, punctuating this with a fist pressed to may's side. "i'm getting dizzy."

"alright, okay." may settles down and crouches low, letting serena slip back so her feet touch the floor. she helps her stand with both hands at her sides, looking at her face close. "better?"

"better," serena replies, squeezing her hands down where she's set them on may's shoulders. "please warn me next time."

may's grin is sharp. "that sounds like permission."

"well, i did literally leap into your arms."

"yeah? hm." may's gaze turns skyward, thinking. "maybe we should work that into the routine."

"maybe we should stick to things lisia won't kill us over."

"i bet i could convince her. ooh!"

serena is close enough to spy the sparkles in may's eyes. she turns to look over her shoulder but finds a hand blocking her view before she can quite manage. "what? who is it?"

"you'll see. hey, serena."

"hm?"

may moves them into a crouch and uncovers serena's face to place the hand around her legs instead. "this is your warning."

"my–!" she cuts off with a gasp as may hefts her up, carrying her with one arm supporting her back and the other under her knees.

"there's someone i want you to meet," may says, ignoring serena's put-upon frown. she steps forward easily, as if serena weighs next to nothing.

"as if i have a choice now," serena mutters. but she's smiling again when may laughs, and it's a smile that never fades over the course of the evening.

#anipoke #sereharu #crimsonvelvetshipping #writing #this wasnt meant to be set during jn originally #but oof guess it is now oh well

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rextasywrites · 3 years ago

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Aftershow - Leon Kennedy x f!reader

with the help of some tricks and your best friend distracting the security guard, you manage to sneak into the after show of the world premiere of “Resident Evil - Infinite Darkness”. It tells the story of federal Agent Leon S. Kennedy, who, after retiring from his career as a federal agent, decided to tackle acting. Ever since you first saw him in “Resident Evil 2”, you were in love with him and couldn’t wait to meet him. So...what would happen at this afterparty?

hey lads i’m back! i hope you enjoy this piece i have been writing the past few days! hope you are doing well xoxo

Warnings: alcohol, smut, Leon being an ass to others sometimes

Your dress clung to your body, making you feel like some overstuffed sausage. It was physically and mentally out of your comfort zone, but your best friend insisted you looked like a million bucks in it, so you begrudgingly purchased it a week before. “But you look fantastic,” your best friend reassured you when you stood before your mirror earlier that night, awkwardly, tugging at the fabric by your hipsMaybe she was right, but currently she was busy with the security guard to give you the chance to meet your idol and celebrity crush, Leon S. Kennedy. You had heard he’d attend the premiere, and posts on social media confirmed the rumours.Not that you’d ever admit to subscribing to notifications from him, though.

The place was filled with Hollywood executives, actors, and actresses from all over the planet, yet you hadn’t spotted your favourite so far. Maybe he was outside smoking? Busy spending time with fans and writing autographs? Who knew… So you made your way past some gossiping actress towards the bar. A simple Sex on the Beach would calm your nerves. You began to zone out as you sipped on the cocktail- that is, until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“And I thought I had met everyone tonight.”

That voice. That fucking voice. You’d recognize it out of a million, and there he was.

On the barstool next to you sat Leon S. Kennedy, and he was touching you at this very moment.

Before you would answer, you chuckled and took a sip from the cocktail, buying your nerves some more time before you’d answer. “Guess not.”, you said and placed the glass on the bar in front of you. “I’m (Y/N), nice to meet you.”

“I’m Leon, but I’m sure you already knew that, nice to meet you too. (Y/N), what a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Say, how is it possible that I haven’t spotted you before?”

Uh oh. Quick, think of something.

“Sorry, bad traffic,” you replied, directly quoting a line from his costar in Resident Evil 4. “But I’m here now, and just in time to celebrate you and your new show!”, you smiled and raised your glass, Leon clicking it together with his own beer glass. “Cheers.” You two took big sips from your beverages, Leon’s hand now gravitating towards your knee.

“Say, would you like to join me on the terrace? It’s getting so hot in here.”, Leon said and pointed towards an open door on the other side of the room. The mere thought of being able to spend more time with him made you agree with his idea, and a minute later you two were sitting on the terrace in a porch swing. Leon had bought you another drink. He was such a gentleman, just like you’d always imagined him.. From time to time, people came to congratulate Leon on the success of his new show, wanting to invite him for a drink or more rounds. Yet every time he declined it, saying he already had enough for the evening.

“You weren’t invited, were you?”, Leon asked after some conversation between you two. You had told him a bit about your life, your work, your pets. In return, Leon shared stories of the making of Infinite Darkness, funny bloopers and behind-the-scenes stories you otherwise would never hear. The party had died out by now, it being late and the night becoming colder. Telling him a lie wasn’t an option, so you sighed and nodded. “Thought so. You carry yourself differently.”, Leon said while he lit himself a cigarette, blowing the smoke into the night sky.

“What do you mean?”, confusion was written across your face. Carrying yourself differently?

“Hollywood wankers carry themselves with a confidence that could kill a mortal like us. They think they are invincible, but oh boy they are wrong. You don’t carry that energy about you. You don’t look the type.. How did you get in?”

“My best friend is buddies with the security guard and he owed her a favour.”

“You little minx.”, Leon laughed, taking another drag as his eyes rested on you, taking in your body in this dress you hated, yet in his eyes you were the most beautiful woman in the sea of botox and silicone tits. “If you promise not to spill the whole night on social media, I can show you a whole new world.”, and by the look in his eyes, you both knew the feeling was mutual

The penthouse Leon was renting for his stay in your city was more than just breathtaking. Standing by the front window, you could see the whole city, way beyond the city limits. In the bathroom was, next to a big bathtub, a jacuzzi, and an iced down champagne bucket right next to it. “In Hollywood, money has no meaning. You ever seen Wolf of Wall Street? They weren’t fuckin’ lying when they called money ‘fun coupons’”, he laughed when you first entered the penthouse and your eyes had nearly rolled out. The bedroom alone was bigger than your whole flat, the champagne in that goddamn bucket probably worth more than your rent

“If your eyes get any bigger they’ll fall out of your head!”, Leon laughed as he sat down on the huge sofa, the fireplace warming up the room to a comfortable degree. Yet the dress felt too tight, just ready to be taken off...or was that the alcohol speaking? Leon for the cigar box lying atop the coffee table. He offered you one, but you declined - you didn’t smoke, but the mere view of Leon with a big cigar between his lips, legs spread and dress shirt slightly unbuttoned...it went straight to your core, a view millions of women would kill for, presented in front of you. “Like what you see, little minx?”

“Would it be bad if I didn’t.”, you replied, trying to hide your nerves by being cocky. But Leon wasn’t having any of this. He could see through your mask, trying and failing to hide how badly you wanted to straddle his lap and kiss him senseless, seeing stars and whole new universes. Comes with being an ex cop and agent. No secrets could make it past his eyes.

“Come here”, were Leon’s simple words, yet they had an effect on you and your body, something you'd normally be ashamed to admit. You made your way over to Leon on the sofa and instead of sitting next to him, he patted on his lap. “I want you to be comfortable, and I bet you are the most comfortable on my lap. C’mon, it’s the best seat in the house.”, he smirked and...you couldn’t deny it. His thighs were comfortably big, years of hard training paying off in the form of muscle and rough skin under his suit pants.

You weren’t sure why your head felt like it was spinning - was it the alcohol or the intoxicating smell from Leon? A mixture of his unique scent: whiskey and his cologne, all in a cloud around your nose. You wished you would be able to smell him for the rest of your life. All you knew was that your body screamed for Leon, and his body screamed right back. “Here.”, Leon offered you the glass of scotch he had just poured for himself. “There are three types of liquor. Terrible, not so terrible, or do you want to impress people with your money?”, and with those words, he pressed his lips against yours.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“And yet, here we are.”

Leon had picked you up after another glass or three of scotch, the way to his bedroom clear. You weren’t sure if it was the warmth from the scotch swelling in your chest or the way his muscular arms wrapped around you, but something in you was one wrong- or right- move away from melting away completely. Your legs were wrapped around his hips as well as possible. The slit on your dress helped you, but suddenly Leon stopped in his tracks. “Are you okay?”, you asked, placing a hand on his cheek, but he looked over the bedroom you two just entered… Suddenly he placed you back down on the floor, kicking the door shut and pushing you against it.

“I don’t think I’m gonna make it to the bed.”, he smirked , his soft hands moving down your sides, leaving goosebumps wherever they touched you. Your dress felt too tight, the room too hot - you needed to get out of it quickly! Leon watched your blush grow, this asshole smirk still on his lips. “I love how real you are.”, he muttered as he leaned in, brushing his lips over your pulse point, just enough to draw a soft gasp from your lips.

“What do you mean?”, you asked, puzzled. Leon just chuckled, “Haven’t you noticed? It’s all Photoshopped. All the women at the premiere had the same fucking ass. Same crooked lips from the same quack doctor. The same busted Botox faces, everywhere you go. Yet they think they’re hot shit.”, he whispered, hot air against your even hotter skin. “But you...look at you.”

And you did. You looked down on yourself and saw nothing but imperfections. You looked back to Leon with a frown but he just laughed, “Hollywood is suffocating as fuck, but you’re like a breath of fresh air.. Look at you! You even have stretch marks! I haven’t seen real stretch marks since I put my first step into a studio!”, Leon took a deep breath, his voice shaking as he said his next sentence, “And I want you so fucking badly.”

Only minutes later, Leon had marked you up, hickeys and little bites of pleasure and need covering your upper body, whatever part he could reach. The dress was long gone and you laid on the bed, watching Leon unbuttoning his dress shirt. Underneath the white fabric was a body riddled with scars and old, badly healed wounds. Each and every single one could tell a story you were ready to hear, but right now, all you wanted was Leon and only Leon. And he needed you too.

“Aren’t you fucking gorgeous?”, Leon asked as his hands reached behind you, undoing your bra with a simple movement. This man had disarmed bombs before, of course a bra wouldn’t cause him much trouble. “Look at you…”, he repeated once more once your bra was thrown across the room, landing on some random piece of furniture. You blushed under his hungry eyes, him taking in what would be his in mere minutes. “Spread your legs. I wanna taste you.”

You had an iron grip on Leon’s hair, bucking your hips to meet his touch. More, more, more! You needed more! While Leon’s tongue teased your entrance, he used his hand to hold you down, keeping you in place like the good girl that you had been. Well, had been until his tongue first licked up your folds, taking in the sweetness of your juices. Leon had consumed many different liquors in his life, but only your sweet juices could rival ambrosia, sending his drunken mind into another plane of existence.

“Leon!”, you moaned out the moment his calloused finger brushed over your clit. It had been begging for attention, but Leon - that dick - kept on lapping up your juices, sucking and nibbling carefully on your folds. The movements of his fingers were in a steady rhythm with the ones of his tongue, making your head spin once more. He knew how to play you like a fiddle, making you putty in his hands.

But before you could cum, Leon pulled away, his face covered in your sweet fluids and he licked over his lips with an obscene sound and a dirty smirk on his lips. “I can’t wait to fuck you ‘til you scream my name.”

The condom was put on quickly. Magnum, of course. What else would a guy like him need? The first stroke inside of you made you see stars for the third time in less than an hour, what an impact this man had on you. Leon was still inside of you, not moving until you were adjusted to his size, especially his girth. “You okay?”, he asked, to which you gave him a soft nod. “Yeah, I’ll be alright. It’s just… fuck, you’re big..”

Leon’s ego beamed at your words, and once you gave him the okay to continue, it was very hard for him to hold back in any way. You were too tight, too sweet, making him nearly burst on the spot. Instead, his mind wandered...but you were always part of those thoughts.

The wet noises of sex, lust, and unadulterated passion filled the room, along with soft panting and groans coming from you two, a noise as old as humankind. Your arms were tightly wrapped around Leon’s body, leaving behind tiny marks when you needed to hold onto him, your nails digging into his skin. Leon hissed at the stings but fuck, knowing you were marking him up too made him even harder, harder than he had ever been.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”, Leon moaned against your neck and buried his head there for a moment. All you could do was nod in agreement, not trusting your voice anymore. Leon reached down at this, pressing his palm between you two, against your clit. You needed this feeling, you were begging for your release.

“Come on, cum for me.”, Leon growled when he felt the first contractions around his cock. The needy undertone of his voice was the last thing you needed to push yourself over the edge. “Leon!”, you moaned and came around him, stilling in your movements. Leon rocked his hips a few more times before his own release overcame him, spilling into the condom as you milked him inside of you. It felt too good to be true, but Leon was real.

Once your high started to fade and the contractions lessened, Leon leaned in for a quick kiss, stealing it from your open lips as you tried to catch your breath again. You smiled up to him, loosening your grip around him. “That was great.”, you smiled and Leon dropped next to you after pulling out.

In the early morning hours, you woke up to an empty bed. Leon’s side was cold and you sat up, looking around in confusion. Where was he? He wouldn’t leave you alone, would he? Finally, you spotted him on the balcony and you quickly threw on one of the jackets laying around along with your panties.

“Good morning.”, you smiled at Leon, who was taking a drag from his cigarette. He greeted you while blowing the hot smoke out, then held up his arm, offering you a place next to him. You happily agreed, leaning against his warm body in the fresh morning hours.

“I’d love to see you again.”, Leon said after he exhaled another drag, looking down at you. This took you by surprise - why would he? You weren’t special at all, just a mere fan who managed to get into his penthouse suite with a lot of luck and cleavage. He grabbed his phone from the table next to him, offering you the open contact list, “I’d love to take you out on a few dates and such. Spend time with you. What do you think? Wanna give me your number?”

#Leon Kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #leon s kennedy #Leon Scott Kennedy

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gukyi · 4 years ago

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the heiress and the hotelier | ksj

summary: when you share a kiss with a mysterious but gorgeous stranger on the night of your unwanted, lavish masquerade birthday party, the last thing you expect is for him to vanish at midnight on the dot. but when, as punishment for always arguing with him, your father assigns you to oversee the company’s newest resort hotel, you begin to realize that the handsome stranger may be closer than you think.

{cinderella!au, heiress reader!au, hotelier seokjin!au}

pairing: kim seokjin x female reader genre: fluff, comedy word count: 21k warnings: alcohol consumption (nothing major), workaholic characters, face blindness, idiots to lovers a/n: hello and welcome to guyi is a nonstop writer!! that’s the fuck right !!!! thank you so much to @aurawatercolor for commissioning me for this (again!) and for being genuinely wonderful. happy birthday! oh--and i’ll be on a socially-distanced vacation this upcoming week, so i’ll be a little more inactive than usual, but here’s this fic to keep you occupied while i’m gone!

Your birthdays have never belonged to you.

Not when you were little, when your mother was always the most excited for you to open your presents and host your birthday party. Not when you were older, and your parents started using your age as a reason for you to start learning the inner workings of the family business under the understanding that you would one day inherit it. And certainly not when you’re an adult, when all your birthdays ever remind you of are the years gone by, blowing past you like dandelion wisps, glimpses of memories that are too nimble to catch between your fingertips.

When people say that time goes by faster as you get older, they aren’t saying it because your life is getting exponentially more interesting with each day that passes. They aren’t saying it because you’re having more fun or doing more things, things that distract you to the point of looking out your window and realizing that it’s dark outside.

They say it because the more years that you have lived, the more years you have to remember. And when you have to recall something as overwhelming as your life, your brain makes shortcuts. The days, weeks, and months blur together, leaving behind snippets from events that your memory deems worthy, events that have become less and less frequent with time. You can’t remember the last major celebration you had. Perhaps your university graduation?

The thing about birthdays is that you know that there will always be one next year. So why bother with celebrating now?

You would give anything to have everyone pretend that your birthday is just a normal day.

Unfortunately for you, you are the only one in your family who seems to have adopted this mindset.

Heaving out a sigh, you look at yourself in the mirror, reflection bathed in the white light of the bathroom, stark and unforgiving. In the merciless glow of the bathroom, you barely recognize yourself. Gone are the deep eye bags that you’ve so dearly acquainted yourself with, tired eyes covered with contacts to bring back the shimmer that has long been lost. You gaze into your eyes and they don’t even feel like they’re yours anymore.

In your hand sits the masquerade mask you had ripped off the moment you entered the bathroom, having been desperate to take it off from the minute you arrived at the hotel. The feathers brush against your skin, soft and black, a custom-made accessory designed to match your gown, an ink black floor-length piece with onyx gems that sparkle silver in the light.

Hoseok was going for a black swan theme—said that it would match your personality perfectly. You’re not exactly sure what he meant by that.

Frantically, like there is a timer ticking down inside of you that you cannot turn off, you pull the mask back on, adjusting it over your eyes until it sits just right, resting atop the bridge of your nose. Hiding behind it, you can almost deceive yourself into thinking, if only for this one night, you are someone else.

The door swings open next to you, revealing a guest that you don’t recognize, someone on the list of hundreds that your mother invited, none of whom you know very well and could certainly not identify beneath a masquerade mask. She smiles in that polite, awkward way as she rushes into a stall, deep maroon train trailing behind her, leaving you stuck between a rock and a hard place, having no desire to go back out into the fray but also not wanting to stay in the bathroom and listen to other people do their business.

Thank God she didn’t recognize you. Your mother was insistent that you be recognized as the guest of honor despite the whole point of a masquerade party being the inability to correctly identify people, so you might as well be walking around in a t-shirt with your face on it. At least the mask is doing something.

You blink at yourself, hoping that maybe if you close your eyes enough, when you open them you’ll be someone else. When that doesn’t seem to work, you take a breath and fix your mask one last time before heading back into the ballroom.

Immediately, amongst the crowd of people, all of whom are only here to elevate their own statuses by being associated with an event hosted by your family, you spot the back of Jungkook’s head, deep brunette tufts of hair deftly styled by a whole team of people, a slicked back, Phantom of the Opera style. He’s got on a tuxedo and mask to match, but even with that on you could recognize him in your sleep. He is your brother, after all.

He’s talking animatedly with the pianist, an old mutual friend of your family’s named Yoongi, who isn’t wearing a mask and is thus immediately identifiable. Not to mention the fact that your family has known his since before you learned to walk. As you get closer to them, you notice that his maskless-ness is because Jungkook’s got it snatched up in between his fingers, dangling it in front of Yoongi like the taunting claw of a rigged toy machine. You decide not to bother them. He’s always been closer with Jungkook, anyway.

You really wish your mother better understood what a masquerade-themed party meant. You can’t get more than three steps in before being stopped by someone you can hardly recognize, all smiles for the birthday girl. They wish you a happy birthday and give you a lifeless compliment that goes in one ear and out the other before going on their way, positively thrilled that they’ve been invited to an event as grand as this and determined to make the most of it.

Eventually, after far too many interruptions, you make it to the catering table, helping yourself to a piece of the five-tiered, golden-iced cake your parents had ordered. At least they got your favorite flavor right—chocolate and vanilla swirl. You wait happily beside the rest of the catered food as you eat, hoping that you are just out of reach enough to go unnoticed. The least your birthday party guests could do is leave you alone.

“Y/N!”

Never mind.

You look up to the source of the sound and find only your father approaching, all dressed up in a crisp suit from the same tailors that made Jungkook’s. He isn’t wearing a mask and apparently doesn’t need one, since it is your birthday and not his. Not a good enough excuse, in your opinion.

“Dad,” you say with a smile, wiping away the icing you feel sitting just off the corner of your lips.

“Enjoying yourself?” He asks heartily, all smiles because he’s always felt rather at home surrounded by this sort of grandeur, almost as much as your mother. No wonder the two of them get along so well.

“The cake is nice,” you dodge the question.

“Ah, glad you like it,” he says, helping himself to his own piece. “We were going to get red velvet but then Jungkook reminded us your favorite flavor was the swirly one,” he laughs to himself, like it’s funny that they almost got it wrong. “Had to call the bakery last minute and change it.”

You purse your lips together in a tense smile, fork picking at the crumbs left on your plate.

“Have you been chatting with your friends?” He asks.

“Here and there,” you respond. Nobody here, except perhaps Jungkook and Yoongi, would be people you considered friends. Acquaintances at best. And besides, it’s not like you can even identify half of the attendees anyway. “You?” You always do much better when the topic of conversation is not your social life.

“Ah, yes, of course, you know me,” he jokes, always the aristocrat. “I was just speaking with Mr. Oh about that corporate investment deal that I had been arranging with him.”

“Dad,” you say, exasperated, “You know that I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Y/N,” he says, already beginning to get frustrated. You and him have shared this conversation countless times already. “You aren’t the final decision maker. You know that.”

“Yes, but you value my input, don’t you?” You challenge. He nods tensely. “So listen to me. I don’t think this deal will be good for us. Even though the Oh’s have more money in their investments, they aren’t transparent with it. If you make this deal you won’t know where our money is going.”

“Nonsense,” your father rebukes. “Mr. Oh and I have known each other for years. I trust him. You’re just saying this because you don’t like their son.”

“Sehun has nothing to do with this,” you argue, even if it is true. Your mother had set you up on a blind date with him a couple of years ago and from the moment he walked through the door, you knew it would go south. He’s got the same conceited attitude his father has. “I don’t think it’s a wise business decision.”

“You mustn’t let personal grievances get in the way of your work and you know that,” your father commands sternly, eyebrows furrowed as he looks at you. “What will you do when you are the CEO of Jeon Group? Are you going to let pettiness get in the way of major advancements for the company?”

“No!” You insist, though you are far too gone for your father to believe you.

“This deal is happening and that’s final, Y/N,” your father declares harshly, eyes narrowed at you.

“But, Dad—”

“I don’t want to hear another word from you about this,” he directs. “You should know better than to argue with me about this sort of thing. Especially here. Your mother worked very hard on putting this party on for you, and you should be grateful.”

You exhale, incensed. “I am, Dad, but the business means more to me than—”

“Stop. You can’t change my mind.” Your father sets his finished plate down on a cart an arm’s length away, piled high with discarded dishes, glasses and utensils. “Go talk with your friends instead.” You frown at him, nose scrunched up in contempt. He gestures you away from him. “Go.”

Sighing, you wipe away the sweat that has gathered along your temples and go back out into the center of the ballroom, watching begrudgingly as your father steers you from him, having deemed your conversation over even if you weren’t finished talking. It’s obvious that there’s no more getting through to him. Unless all of the Ohs are suddenly arrested for embezzling funds or mail fraud, that deal is happening.

Standing in the middle of the room, you turn around once and you’re immediately lost amongst all of the guests, surrounded by people everywhere you look. You turn back to where your father was standing but he’s vanished, and when you turn the other way, Jungkook has disappeared from beside the grand piano as well. It feels like you’re outnumbered, like you’re trapped in a maze of people with no end in sight, like one wrong move and suddenly they will all turn to look at you, stare you down like camera lenses, relentless flashes of light. Nobody to talk to, nowhere to run.

You’re stuck.

Now that you think about it, you sort of always have been.

The room gets blurrier.

“Hey, are you alright?” A voice asks.

You feel like you spin around several times before your eyes focus in on the man it belongs to.

“Here, come on, let’s get out of here.”

Your feet move against your mind’s better judgement, the man ushering you away from the center of the room and out of the crowd. You barely notice the direction he’s taking you in until you feel the cool late night air blow past you, tickling your skin and sending shivers down your spine.

It’s the balcony.

The glass door shuts behind the two of you, sending a stream of wind against your back as it effectively removes all of the background noise of the party, containing it within the ballroom, leaving the both of you shrouded in the stars’ silence.

Out here, you have a perfect view of the city. Even though it’s nearing midnight, the lights are still on, coating the town in a twinkling glow, yellow lights flickering on and off, as if someone were looking at the universe from far beyond it. Some parts of the city go to sleep when the sun sets. Others are just waking up.

Next to you, the man removes his suit jacket and drops it ceremoniously on the floor at his feet, arms resting on the balcony’s railing as he gazes out into the distance. As you look out into the same deep navy sky, it’s almost as if the rest of the night has faded away. You don’t know who he is and you can only hope that he doesn’t know you either, hope that he has rescued you from the crowd to talk you down rather than talk you up. But you don’t miss the way he hasn’t said a word to you since you stepped foot outside, hasn’t dared to initiate contact just in case you were looking for a respite from all of it.

At this angle, you can turn your head just enough to get a good look at him, at the way half of his face is enveloped in shadow while the other half is letting the moonlight do all of the talking. From here, the light from the full moon is faint, a barely-there silver glow, but it casts him in just enough light to make him seem as though he belongs in a dream. Like he isn’t even real. It highlights the sharpness of his jaw, the peaks of his cheekbones, his round button nose. But what it really makes gleam are his eyes, almost pitch black in the night. They reflect the sky like nothing else, glimmers of faint starlight in an ocean of ink.

Quite frankly, you wouldn’t mind staying like this for the rest of the night.

“Thank you.” You breathe out the words and immediately feel his gaze jerk sharply towards you. “For getting me out of there.”

“Of course,” he says, and oh, goodness, his voice is thick and warm and comforting, like a fireplace on a cool night, like a blanket after a nightmare. “You just seemed like you needed a break.”

“You could say that,” you say, shrugging to yourself. You could use more than a break. A general pause on life is something you certainly wouldn’t object to—if only it was that easy. But hey, you take what is given to you and never miss an opportunity if you can help it. There’s a lot that you can (and do) complain about but even more than you should be grateful for. Your father was right. This party took a lot of planning on your mother’s part and you spent half of it in the bathroom wishing you were anywhere but here.

“A lot on your plate?” He asks with a smile, a real one, one that isn’t forced like everybody else. Almost like he’s smiling because he’s actually enjoying himself.

“I feel like it’s endless,” you say, keeping it vague because, as it stands, this gorgeous man does not know who you are, and you would like to keep it that way.

“As is all of life,” he says sagely, almost as if it’s a reminder to himself as well. You wonder what he must have on his mind. You wonder if it’s worth sharing your life with a stranger. “It looked like you had a lot on your mind back in there.” He gestures weakly back towards the door.

“I have a lot on my mind no matter where I am,” you correct, and you try to make it sound funny but instead it just comes out sounding sad. Normally you wouldn’t be cracking jokes at your expense in front of someone whose name you don’t even know, but you had a couple of drinks tonight and the taste is still fresh on your tongue, sitting alongside all of the words you want to say but don’t know how to.

The man leaves it at that, not wanting to push any further, but you aren’t finished yet. Someone might as well know how you feel, since you bottle it up around everyone else.

“Do you ever wish that you could just… I don’t know. Disappear?” You turn to look at him, heaving out a sigh. He doesn’t say anything, simply gazes back at you, like he’s willing you to carry on. It, in a way, worries you. “Ugh. I feel ridiculous saying it out loud.”

There’s a tense, pregnant pause between the two of you. It makes you feel like talking was a mistake.

“It’s not ridiculous.” It almost sounds like the words are coming from someone else. Like this whole thing is just a figment of your imagination, created by your mind to keep you company because there’s no one else to turn to.

He’s staring out over the balcony now, waiting for you to continue.

“I don’t know,” you say, feeling utterly idiotic, like a fish out of water. “Sometimes I just wish that I could go somewhere else and be someone else and not have to worry about all of the things in my life. Things like my family, and my work. There are so many things that people expect of me. All the time. It feels like I’m living for them instead of myself.”

He nods along, holding back to see if you have anything else to say. You must sound like such an ungrateful little rich girl, you think to yourself. Complaining about this fabulous party and incredible life that you live, a life filled with wealth and grandeur and power, a life that most people dream of having. What will he think of you?

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. “I probably sound like such a spoiled brat.”

“You don’t,” he immediately assures you, taking a step to his right and closing the gap between you two. “It doesn’t sound like that at all.”

“Then what does it sound like?” You muse to yourself, forcing a laugh.

“It sounds like you have a lot that you feel like you owe to other people,” he says organically. “You know, like you feel like you have to do all of these things because you can’t let other people down. I get it. I know that everyone nowadays is all, ‘You shouldn’t give a shit about what other people think of you, just do whatever you want,’ but it’s hard not to think about what other people think of you. And what other people expect from you. Letting them down sucks.”

You chuckle. Sounds about right. You may not be completely satisfied with your life right now but that doesn’t mean you’re going to fling your responsibilities onto the shoulders’ of other people. Your father works hard, your mother works hard, your brother works hard. The least you could do for them is offer up the same diligence.

“You’re quite the smooth talker,” you joke, looking him up and down and nodding your approval. He’s definitely figured you out, at least.

“I’m just a people person,” the man admits. “I like talking with people.”

“And here I was, thinking that I’d be confessing my secrets to a brick wall,” you say, making him crack a smile, another real one. You like the look of them. A part of you wants to do it more often.

“Secrets, huh?” He asks, sliding another inch closer, daringly so, teetering on the edge of territory that you haven’t touched in years. “I like the sound of that. Got any more for me?”

You smirk up at him, a grin playing on your lips. “Only if you have one for me in return. No freebies.”

He laughs, loud and clear, the sound ringing out in the nighttime air. “Alright,” he says, obliging. He leans in close, lips hovering above your ear. “I think you’re gorgeous.”

You’ve been listening to compliments all night but this one makes the heat rush to your cheeks like nothing else, a fire set alight in your veins.

“That’s a secret, is it?” You ask, suddenly feeling shy, looking all around you just so you don’t have to look him in his eyes and feel your legs turn to jelly.

“Not anymore,” he reminds you. “What about you? Anything else to share with me?” He’s standing dangerously close to you now, barely half a foot of space between your bodies as he leans into you, hands hovering above your waist.

Slowly he begins to tilt his head towards you, and while you’ve never been one for dramatics, you have to admit that you haven’t felt this way since your schoolgirl crush days back when you were a teenager, giddy and electric and desperately craving more.

You watch as his lips flutter above yours, feel transparent underneath his steel gaze, and you say, “I think you’re gorgeous, too.”

The fireworks thing had always been over the top for you. Like it was impossible for a kiss to feel that explosive to anyone, setting you alight over and over and over again. But his lips pressed against yours come pretty damn close. It makes your whole body go weak, like you can barely hold yourself up, hands clutching onto his sleeves just to make sure you don’t go topping off the balcony. He kisses you and you swear that you would never do this sort of thing normally—go about your romantic interests like a professional, a couple of dates and then perhaps a kiss on your doorstep—but goddamn, it feels like you might just give up everything for him. It feels like there are sparks running all across your skin, sending jolts of life into your heart. It feels like he is someone you are going to miss.

It lasts too long and ends too quickly all at once. You distantly hear the party celebrate the clock striking twelve indoors, cheers and screams and shouts as people rally themselves to continue long after the mark of a new day, and feel him pull away from you at the very same instant. Shamelessly, you instinctively reach up to try and meet his lips again, refusing to believe it’s over, but already he’s separating himself from you.

“Hey, what’s wrong—?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing, I promise,” the man says, the words barely registering in your kiss-drunk haze. He scoops up his jacket from the floor and immediately begins to head back inside. “I just have to go, really. It’s nothing.”

You freeze, mouth agape. “Wait, I don’t even know your—”

“It was really nice meeting you, I hope that we can see each other again!” He pulls open the door with one final grin, one beautiful, brilliant smile, and then suddenly, he’s gone.

You feel the rush of wind blow against your skin, holding you hostage on the balcony as you stare at the closed door, almost like he had never been here at all.

It wasn’t a dream. It couldn’t have been. He was real, and he was here, and then he was right in front of you, his hands were on your waist, his lips were on your lips. And still, it’s almost as if it never even happened.

You blink back at the door, trying to convince yourself that you are still awake, that you haven’t gone mad with loneliness, when you feel yourself step on something.

It’s his mask. A plain, black one with a couple of decorative touches. The string meant to secure it to his face is broken, having probably snapped in half in his rush to leave, leaving it as the only reminder that you didn’t dream up the entire ordeal to begin with.

You reach down to pick it up, letting it rest between your fingertips, and you laugh. Here you are, having fallen for a man whose name you don’t know and whom you don’t think you’ll ever see again, the only piece left you have of him being a broken, forgotten masquerade mask. Like the worst rendition of Cinderella ever.

Leaning back over the balcony, you sigh, resigning yourself to the fact that even if tonight was more eventful than you thought it would be, you will have to get up tomorrow morning and go to work, just the same.

And you suppose that that really is what the man was talking about when he said life was endless.

It’s not that it has no end. It’s just that it doesn’t really feel like you’re ever beginning something new.

You wake up in a cold sweat and are convinced you dreamt of the whole thing until you see the mask sitting on your chest of drawers, grounding you back to reality.

You wonder what it is about him, about last night, that so easily deceives you into thinking it never happened. Perhaps it was the time, or the alcohol on your tongue, or how storybook the whole thing felt, from the talking to the kissing to the disappearing into the night. Or perhaps it was the fact that you can’t remember the last time someone made you feel the way that he made you feel, can’t remember the last time someone kissed you like he did. Like your brain was convinced it would just never happen.

At least you know that there’s still a little hope for you.

A part of you almost thinks that, for the rest of time, you won’t be able to think of anything but the mystery man and his excellent kissing skills. Even the morning after, the tingling feeling on your lips still lingers like lint on a blazer, like a scar that won’t fade. It feels like it won’t ever go away, dancing along your lips every time you look in a mirror. You hardly remember anything else about that night besides him, besides talking to him, besides his lips on yours.

You continue to live in this post-kiss bliss for another ten minutes as you help yourself to breakfast and hum a mindless tune. Then your phone lights up.

“Hey, Dad!” You say cheerfully, practically bouncing on your feet.

“Y/N,” he says gruffly. “You haven’t left for work yet, have you?”

“Nope,” you say, stuffing a spoonful of Honey Nut Cheerios into your mouth. “Why? Do you need me to bring something?”

“Actually, Y/N, you won’t be coming to the office today.” His tone is stern and sharp, no-nonsense. The same way he speaks to interns who have fucked up.

Oh, no.

“What do you mean?” You ask, trying to keep your tone positive even though you already know you’re toast.

“I’m assigning you to watch over the new resort hotel at the edge of the city.” Your father has never been known to beat around the bush.

“What?” You gasp out, shocked. “Dad, you know that I—”

“You wanted more independence and more input in decision-making, didn’t you?” He says pointedly, a reminder of last night.

“Yes, but I—”

“Good,” he declares. “This resort is going to be your responsibility and I want to see that you are doing well with the tasks at hand.”

“Dad, that sounds good, but you know I much prefer more corporate responsibilities—”

“And at this resort, you will have that,” he informs you. “It’s high time you take on your own tasks instead of doing the ones that I hand down to you. I expect to see this resort flourish.” You don’t understand his logic. Isn’t he literally handing you an entire resort to oversee? A brand new one, too?

“But wouldn’t you rather manage such a new hotel? What if it starts to encounter deficits?” You plead, a final attempt to get him to take your name off of this project so you can go back to doing what you’re used to instead of being flung a brand new resort you definitely aren’t keen on overseeing.

“Then I should hope to see you solve them quickly,” he clips, effectively dissolving any hope you had that he would change his mind. Normally, you love your father’s typical hands-off approach when it comes to business, usually because it allows you to gain working experience without him carrying you every step of the way, but right now, you just wish he was more of a selfish businessman. For once, it would actually work out quite well for you.

“Dad—”

“I’ll be checking in.”

He hangs up.

Standing in the middle of your kitchen, you huff, nose scrunched up and eyebrows furrow as you try to think your way out of this. Getting through to your father is impossible, getting through to your mother, even more so. She’s always preferred to stick to philanthropy, anyway, having zero interest in what you and your father do. You scowl to yourself, already beginning to run out of options. Is your list really that short? Who else in your family could help?

Suddenly, you smack your head, shocked at how forgetful you’ve been. You grab your phone from where it sits on the counter and dial his number.

“Y/N?” Jungkook asks from the other end, voice still groggy. At least he gets to sleep in.

“Hey, Jungkook,” you say, sighing out your hello to sound more casual.

“What’s up?” He asks in between yawns.

“Listen, Dad just assigned me to oversee that new resort hotel on the beach just outside of town,” you say economically. You’ve always gotten straight to the point with your brother. It’s the only reason the two of you aren’t constantly at each other’s necks anymore.

“Really? That’s awesome!” Jungkook says excitedly, voice jumping up half an octave.

“I mean…” You begin, because it’s really… not.

“This probably means that Dad’s going to retire soon, don’t you think? Since he’s giving you such a big responsibility, right?” Jungkook asks, a suggestion that nearly sends you into a coughing fit at the mere thought of it. Retirement?

“You think so?” You ask, a little terrified.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook says, and you can hear his nonchalant shrug through the phone. “Maybe. He has been talking a lot recently about what’s going to happen when you take over the company.”

“Don’t you want that same responsibility, though?” Jungkook has never been treated as a business equal the same way you have, despite having the same expensive education as you and being much better with people. You’ve always wondered if that’s bothered him.

“Not really,” Jungkook tells you, and you can hear the familiar log-in sound of his computer in the background. “I mean, I’ve always known you were going to inherit the company. This sort of thing just makes sense to me.”

You frown to yourself. “You don’t want to be involved with the business at all?”

“No, it’s not like that,” Jungkook says with a sigh, voice still groggy. “I’m happy that I’m getting the work experience and everything. But it’s just never something I’ve seen as part of my future.”

Mostly because it’s always been yours.

The fact of the matter is that Jungkook, even if he is younger, and a little more rambunctious, and a little bit more impulsive, has always been the better candidate to take over the family business. He excels at task-driven jobs and has charmed the pants off of everyone he’s ever met, from Yoongi to your florist to the nice woman at the customer service counter at your local grocery store. He’s a quick decision-maker and never second-guesses himself. He also has zero problems with his love life and potential partners, something that your parents are desperate for you to figure out. He’s perfect for the position.

So why are you the heir?

“What, are you just going to livestream video games for a living, then?” You ask snarkily, already knowing that he’s sat at his desk, ready for another match.

“Probably. I could probably double the family’s fortune, you know,” he says, and he’s right. What he does is equally as profitable as what you do, and he gets bonus points because it’s something that he genuinely enjoys.

“You better get started then, gamer boy,” you say, hearing his bubbly laugh echo through the phone before you hang up.

Jungkook would take over the resort hotel management if you asked, and you know it. He’s got the experience and the expertise to do it flawlessly, no questions asked. But he won’t, because you won’t ask that of him. Because even if you don’t want to do it, it is better you than him. Someone in this family deserves to do what they love for a living. And nobody deserves that more than him.

The Honey Nut Cheerios slosh around in the milk in the bowl in front of you. You aren’t very hungry anymore.

Your father has always had an eye for design, a trait he never seemed to pass on to you. It’s no wonder why he’s the one the architectures and interior decorators run everything by while you manage the finances. It’s something your mother always says she loves about him. So, even if you are assigned to oversee a resort hotel that you have zero interest in whatsoever, at least it looks nice.

“Whoa, this place is fancy,” Hoseok says, gasping as the two of you step out of the car beneath the golden awning that covers the hotel entrance. There are little lights lining the structure, something to bathe the canopy in a sparkling glow when the sun says goodbye for the day, light it up like stars in the night sky.

“You’ve been to my house, this is nothing,” you say with a shrug, making him laugh as the doors open for you, carpet plush and hardly touched. From what you read in the file your father sent you, this place hasn’t been open for more than two weeks.

It looks like it’s barely been occupied.

The security guard, a gruff, stout man, nods a hello to you as you enter.

“Uh, your house doesn’t have security guards,” Hoseok whispers into your ear as you pass him, pointing rather conspicuously to the man behind you. “Your dad really went all out on this one.”

You huff, gritting your teeth. Good thing it’s not an eyesore, otherwise you don’t think you’d last a week here. “Well, he’s always loved the beach.”

“Why does that not surprise me,” Hoseok lilts, whistling as he gazes away from you, guilty.

You smack him with the back of your hand in the middle of his torso. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he says, backing off even though he knows he’s the only person (well, besides Jungkook) who can get away with saying that sort of thing in front of you. “You two have always been polar opposites, I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, well, say it in your head,” you sulk, hitting him again so that he straightens up. You both have a duty to make a good first impression, though Hoseok’s red suit is doing half of the work for him.

As you enter, all of the staff behind the desk scramble to get to their positions, hands together neatly in front of them as you peer over your wire-rimmed glasses to get a good look at the place. It’s clean, elegant, with touches of luxury here and there, a golden coffee table, an accent along the lining of the walls. It smells faintly of lemon and mostly of the ocean, a scent you are going to have to get used to. Everything seems to be in order.

You stroll up the front desk, eyeing everything closely. Behind it, the three employees currently on front-desk duty wait patiently for you to speak. Their names are written in capital letters on gold-plated tags, pinned to the pockets of their blazers. You nod as you memorize their names. Irene, Seohyun, and Seokjin.

Seokjin looks positively wide-eyed, flabbergasted to be seeing you, to be standing in front of you. There’s this faint sort of recognition on his face, like he’s just realized something life-altering, and he’s doing a rather poor job of hiding it. Perhaps he’s just starstruck.

“Well, we might as well get the introductions over with,” you declare, clapping your hands together. The sound makes the three of them jump. “If you didn’t know, I’m Y/N, and I’ll be overseeing this hotel for the foreseeable future. So let’s get along well together. For all of our sakes.”

They nod, polite smiles on their faces.

“Which one of you is the hotelier?” You ask, looking between the three of them. Your father had written it down in that file somewhere but quite frankly, you were so exasperated that you had been assigned the hotel that you hadn’t really looked it over properly.

“That would be me,” the man, Seokjin, says with a tense, small little grin, nodding his head when you turn to face him. He looks strikingly familiar, this sort of picturesque nostalgia that you can’t quite place, angles sharp in the bright light of the hotel. You wonder where you’ve seen it before. Possibly in some magazine or at an event. He certainly is worthy of being photographed.

“Excellent,” you declare happily. “Then you’re on my staff, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I just received word about that last night,” he affirms.

“Wonderful,” you say, fingers tapping against the granite countertops. “I can tell that this will all go smoothly, so long as we all make sure to stay on task. Sounds good?”

“Of course, Miss Jeon,” Seokjin says.

“Please, call me Y/N. I do hate formalities,” you request. “So, shall we get started? I trust that you all know exactly what you’re doing. But I would like to receive a few updates here and there about the goings-on here. Mostly, I would like all total daily income numbers to be faxed to my office, transcripts of all of the customer service requests, and an updated menu. The pizza is far too cheap and the lobster just as expensive. How’s that for a starting list?”

“Would you like those numbers in an Excel sheet or graphed?” Irene asks, eyebrows raised.

“Both,” you answer. She and Seohyun get right to work, leaving you feeling confident that this won’t be a complete train wreck. “Seokjin, you are with me.” You gesture for him to come out from behind the desk, and begin to walk around the lobby of the hotel, hoping to put some distance between you two and the other employees. He stays a solid two feet behind you the entire time, taking quick, short steps so he doesn’t dare start to catch up.

“How can I help, Miss Jeon?” He asks, eyes wide.

You smile, shaking your head. “I told you that Y/N is fine. In any case, since you are the hotelier, I will need a little more from you.” He nods. “First, I need a summary of all expenses and income since you opened, preferably in Excel and formatted cleanly. I’ll also need a list of all of the employees, their respective positions, and their salaries. It would be great if we could begin to eliminate the part-time slots and allow the employees to become full-time so that they receive the same benefits as you and I. I’ll also need information on their schedules.”

You notice he isn’t writing any of this down, simply bobbing his head as you lift off everything you want and a few things that you’re throwing in just so you don’t have to do them.

“I assume that you don’t have constant contact with my father, but I don’t mind being the messenger in regards to hotel infrastructure and design. Any and all malfunctions should also be reported to me. It would also be great if we could maybe lose the curtains in the lobby. I think they close up the room. But, your choice.” You narrow your eyes, looking around to see if there’s anything else that needs urgent attention, when you see Hoseok already beginning to hunt through the concessions room, picking up bags of different themed Jelly Belly. “I think that should be enough for now. Update me whenever possible, please.”

“You got it,” Seokjin says, heading back to the desk as quickly as he had walked away from it, concentration washing over his features. It does, at least, bring you comfort that nobody seems particularly incompetent.

Behind you, you can hear Hoseok muttering a few things at the front desk, most likely having to do with you and your attitude. But you don’t think it’s that big of a deal. You’ve always been work-oriented. It’s always been your biggest focus. Lingering in the lobby, you gaze out the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out at the entrance, the slick, newly-paved asphalt, the tropical flowers that surround it. You have always preferred a city to a beach, but at least the time might pass quicker here with people who know how to do their jobs.

Perhaps this might not be so bad after all.

Then, your phone vibrates in your pants pocket.

“Mom,” you greet, surprised that she’s calling you during work. “Hey, how are you?”

“Wonderful!” She shrieks, always the energizer. “Your father told me all about how he assigned you to oversee that new resort. I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks,” you respond, lifeless.

“You know, you have a lot of responsibility now,” she reminds you, as if you had already forgotten how much work goes into supervising something like this. “Directing a hotel and its staff is a big deal. I don’t want you to think that you can just slack off.”

“Mom, I’m not going to slack off,” you explain. “You know I care about this stuff, just like Dad.”

“I know, I know, I’m just making sure. We want to make sure the company is in good hands when your father retires. He doesn’t have too many years left, you know.”

“Well, whenever he’s ready, I’ll be too,” you assure her, a promise you have vowed to uphold, no matter what becomes of you or your social life.

“Good.” The conversation ends there. Or, more takes a quick pause, which can only mean one thing. Your mother has something else she needs to tell you. “Speaking of seeing you off…”

“Yes—?”

“Your father and I both think it’s high time you start to settle down with someone. You know we don’t want to see you end up all alone,” she begins, the same argument that you’ve had with your parents time and time again.

“Mom, you know that I’m not really interested in going out and finding people right now.” Or ever.

“Yes,” she begins, sucking in her breath between her teeth. Oh, goodness, what’s she going to say now? “But luckily, you don’t have to. You’re so busy, we can’t expect you to just drop everything. So we did.”

“You what?”

“Your father and I have set you up on some dates—just a couple!—with some of his associates’ sons,” she explains, but you are already livid. “We just think that you should be taking more time to see—”

“See what?” You demand. “See his friends’ bratty sons tell me how much money they make? See their cars and their clothes and their stupid Italian leather shoes? See them tell me how I work too hard and that I should just stay at home while they go out and change the world? No thank you.” You can’t name a thing in this world less appealing. Except perhaps supervising a resort hotel against your will. But even that’s better, because the men here actually know what they’re doing.

“Honey, you just aren’t giving them the opportunity—”

“Mom, they don’t deserve an opportunity. I don’t need to be dating people right now. At all!” You exclaim. “Like you said, I’m busy. If Dad is going to retire soon then I need to be ready for it. I have other priorities.”

“Your happiness is our priority,” your mother insists, convinced she’s doing you a good deed by setting you up on blind dates with rich men who care more about their watches and Italian leather shoes than they would a woman.

“Working makes me happy,” you say between gritted teeth. “I’m perfectly happy as I am.”

“Will you please just give them a try, honey? You never know,” she pleads, desperate to get you to agree with something.

“Fine,” you say, caving in just to get her to stop talking about it. “But don’t expect anything out of it.”

“Yay! That’s all I wanted to hear.” You can hear her relief through the phone.

“Anything else?” You ask, rubbing at your temples, wishing desperately for this day to be over so you can just go home and take a nice, hot bath, and dream about the mystery man in his black masquerade mask. You’re not interested in dating, sure, but for him, you think you'd make an exception. If only you knew who he was.

“That’s it. Love you, honey, congratulations on the new resort!” She hangs up in that same voice that she started with, bubbly and animated, and the moment you hear the line go dead, you throw your dignity to the dogs and groan to yourself.

“God almighty,” you mutter angrily, shaking your head as you rest your head in your hands, fingers massaging at your forehead. Another blind date? How could you possibly have agreed to that? The more you think about the more you wish that this part of your life was the dream instead. Fairytales are overrated but quite frankly, you certainly wouldn’t mind if that man from the party waltzed right into your life and swept you off your feet. He certainly had no trouble doing it last night. You wonder what he’s up to, now—

“Miss Jeon?”

You jump at the voice, scaring both you and Seokjin as you turn, a little cry escaping your lips instinctively. “Oh my God, you frightened me. And please, Y/N is fine. Better, actually.”

Seokjin looks like a deer in headlights, terrified to even talk to you, let alone address you by your first name. You appreciate the professionalism but have never been too fond of the whole ‘Miss’ thing. As if you or your parents need any more reminding that you’re single. Your first name feels much more natural. He flounders twice, opening his mouth to say something before shutting it again, as though whatever he says will suddenly enrage you.

“Do you… need anything, Seokjin?” You ask, prompting him since he doesn’t seem to be taking matters into his own hands.

The sound of his name from your lips snaps him out of his daze. “Oh! Yes, I do, actually. I just wanted to ask if you wanted me to include personal expenses on the part of the hotelier in the Excel sheet.”

“Personal expenses? Did you receive a credit from my father?” You ask, an eyebrow raised in surprise.

“Yes, it was mailed to me just last week. I’ve only used it for a couple of items, though—”

“Like what?” You ask, head tilted.

He blushes red, cheeks rosy like cherries in summer. “The curtains in the lobby.”

You bark out a laugh, amused at how unexpected this whole thing is. The one thing Seokjin spends money on, you instruct him to take down. At the sound of your chortle, Seokjin backs away, like a cat scared of thunder claps. “Of course,” you say, looking up at the sky and exhaling. Fate. “Please include those.” He nods, already making to scurry back to the front desk, but another sentence from your mouth stops him in his tracks. “Oh, and if you think that the curtains look nice, then leave them. I was never good at interior design anyway.”

You crack a smile, hoping that Seokjin will at least recognize that you’re attempting to be funny and grin, validating you and your lacking sense of humor. He doesn’t, but he does nod once more, and you at least feel like the ice between you is beginning to crack.

Seokjin rushes back towards the front desk, taking on the enormous list of tasks you’ve assigned him without so much blinking an eye. You watch as his eyebrows furrow in concentration, knitting themselves together above the scrunch of his nose, as his eyes zero in on his computer screen. It’s obvious that he knows exactly what he’s doing and has no issues regarding his work whatsoever. Good thing he’s the hotelier.

From here, you can use supervision as a cover for the way that you are blatantly ogling him, his figure and his face, finding yourself rather impressed at the sight in front of you. Here, in this lavish, modern hotel, he looks like a prince rather than a manager, clean button-down shirt and fitted slacks, tailored to fit his short torso and long legs. His hair hangs in front of his face in strands, the same sort of hairstyle that the attractive male love interests get, messy and tousled but still fresh. It looks good on him. He certainly wears it well.

You don’t think being here will be too bad, so long as you have him.

“Hey.” You feel Hoseok wrap his arm around you, joining you as you stand by the windows. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you promise. “I am.”

Hoseok motions back towards them, where they work diligently behind the front desk as they wait for the next guests to arrive. Seokjin, thinking you aren’t looking, steps back from his computer for just a moment to take some breaths, catch some air. He stretches, arms above his head as his shirt is pulled out from where it’s tucked into his pants. Even from here, you can see the toned lines of his torso, his healthy, slim figure.

Something about him is so familiar. Maybe you met him in a past life.

“I think you’ll be fine, Y/N,” he promises, bright white smile gazing back at you, happy as always. “You don’t have anything to worry about. They all look like they know what they’re doing. Especially that Seokjin guy.”

Being here wasn’t your first choice. It wasn’t even your second. But you have people that you can’t let down, and responsibilities to uphold. Besides, you don’t think it’ll be that bad. At least, not with someone like Seokjin around. Perhaps there is always a silver lining.

“Yeah,” you repeat again, exhaling. Hoseok turns to look at you, fondness lacing his features, and you smile to yourself. “I know.”

Very seldom are you shouted at by people that your family has employed. The fear of being fired due to disagreeing with your boss is enough to keep many people quiet. Submissive, even.

But not Hoseok.

“What is with these eye bags, Y/N?” He exclaims at you, exasperated as he picks up the color-correcting pot from his kit and turns around to face you. “I thought we agreed on eight hours of sleep per night. Getting less than that is a death sentence!”

“I’m fine, Hoseok,” you insist, even though the bags underneath your eyes are deeper than the Grand Canyon. You, admittedly, have not been sleeping as much as Hoseok has insisted upon.

“No, you’re not, look at you! Earlier today you shoved your toothbrush into your ear when I called you while you were about to start brushing your teeth,” Hoseok reminds you, an embarrassing moment in your life that you would prefer to keep just between the two of you. Sometimes you just mix up what’s in your hands. It happens.

You frown. “I thought we agreed not to mention that.”

“Your skin is looking dry, too,” Hoseok says, dabbing on the product underneath your eyes. “These are all signs that your body isn’t doing well.”

“Okay, Dr. Jung,” you say with a roll of your eyes, making Hoseok scowl playfully at you. “But I’m fine. I’m just working a little bit harder right now. That’s all.”

“That’s what you always say,” Hoseok points out, unimpressed with your measly excuse. “Every time I talk to you about how you aren’t taking care of yourself, you always go, ‘It’s because of work, I’m fine,’ or ‘Don’t worry about me, I just have a lot to do right now.’ It’s not healthy.”

“I don’t sound like that!” You object, offended at his mocking high-pitched impression of you. You don’t sound like Hoseok on helium. You refuse to accept that.

“Yeah, yeah,” Hoseok says, shrugging you off as he pulls out the concealer. “I’m serious, Y/N. You work yourself way too hard. This event is supposed to be a fun business gala and you’re probably going to spend the whole time checking your email.”

“I will not!” You will.

Hoseok frowns, seeing right through you. One of the many benefits of being your personal assistant is the fact that he can read you like a children’s book. He also knows that he can say whatever he wants to you without fear of getting fired—not that he cares about that, either, because he’s probably got enough money in his bank account to put three kids through college. If he ever wanted to have kids, that is. So this is how conversations like these usually go.

“If I didn’t like your live text updates on the stupid things people wear to these things so much, I would make you leave your phone at home,” Hoseok tells you. “You really do need to take time for yourself.”

“I do take time for myself,” you rebuke with a pout, thinking about how you’ve started waking up five minutes later so you have more time to sleep in. It means that you don’t get to read the morning news like you used to, but sometimes putting off politics until after you’ve had coffee is a good thing.

“A once-a-month ten-minute bath while you put on a rose face mask doesn’t count,” Hoseok tells you pointedly. “You need to be incorporating this sort of thing into your everyday life. By taking time off. All you ever do is work.”

“It’s not my fault,” you huff, closing your eyes so Hoseok can do some eyeshadow. “I have a whole hotel to oversee after my dad assigned it to me. There’s a lot that I have to manage. Plus, my mom is making me go on these stupid blind dates with their associates’ snobby sons who still think that the pay gap isn’t real.”

Hoseok tuts to himself, shaking his head as he brushes color onto your eyelids. “Your parents have such bad taste in men for you.”

“I know!”

“This is even further proof that you need to relax more,” Hoseok says economically, brain immediately connecting your predicament to his agenda to get you to take more time off, as always. “Because men stress you out.”

“Just them, but yes,” you correct.

“What do you mean ‘Just them’? Is there someone you’re interested in that doesn’t stress you out?” Hoseok demands, tapping your cheek to get you to open your eyes. You do and the first thing you see is Hoseok’s face, two inches from yours, staring at you as he waits for an answer.

You sigh. You might as well tell him about the mystery man. Clearly, you underestimated his power, because it’s been a week and you’re still thinking about him. “Yes, but—”

“‘Yes’?” Hoseok asks, shocked. “What the fuck, when did you meet him? What does he look like? What’s his name? Job? Is he rich?”

“At my birthday party,” you say. You can picture the scene perfectly in your mind. The balcony, the stars, the mask. The feeling of his hands on your waist, his lips on yours. They’ve been etched into your brain. “We talked on the balcony for a little while and then we kissed.”

“You what?”

“Don’t overreact, it’s not that big of a deal,” you order. The mere recollection of it is already making your body restless and your cheeks burn.

“What do you mean? It’s a huge deal!”

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” you interrupt, sighing to yourself, “because he ran off at midnight Cinderella-style and I don’t know his name, or his job, or even what he really looks like because he was wearing a mask the whole time.”

Hoseok stops dead in his tracks, the loose power leaving a puff of smoke in between the two of you as his words sink in. Yeah. That’s how you feel too. You finally develop an interest in somebody after years of going it solo and you don’t know a damn thing about him. Other than the fact that he is a fantastic kisser. Which is not an appropriate identifier. You suppose that you could use the mask, but you don’t even know half of the people your mother invited. How are you supposed to narrow down who was wearing a black mask and who wasn’t?

The fact is that unless a miracle happens, you don’t have any way of figuring out who that man is. Yet another thing that you have to dwell on while you worry about everything else going on in your life.

Hoseok sits on his words for a few more moments, trying to figure out the right thing to say. Eventually, he settles on, “Damn. That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“Can you do anything to find him?”

You shake your head, resigning yourself to a life where the mystery man will forever remain a mystery. “No. I don’t even know who was on the guest list.”

“What if you ask Jungkook?” Hoseok poses. “Maybe he knows him.”

“Jungkook does not need to know about my barely-there love life,” you say with a self-deprecating chuckle. You and your brother typically keep your conversations far away from that realm of topics, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Jungkook is rather flush with admirers. Many of whom have gotten to know him a little bit… closer. “It’s no big deal, ‘Seok. I’m not really desperate to find love. I just need to focus on work, right now.”

“I wish you wouldn’t work yourself so hard, Y/N,” Hoseok says with a melancholic smile, knowing that no matter what he tells you, you’ll always be too determined for your own good. At least he tries.

You purse your lips in understanding. Hoseok just wants what’s best for you, but what’s best for you right now is being ready for your father’s impending retirement. “There’s just too much that I have to do.”

“At least you’ll have help with the resort,” Hoseok offers, always looking on the bright side. “That Seokjin fellow seems like he really knows what he’s doing.”

You think back to your visits to the resort. Your longest stay was the first day you arrived, but you’ve been making frequent trips back to check in. And every time you arrive, Seokjin is waiting dutifully for your next orders, always getting your completed requests back to you on time, formatted perfectly. He listens to your every word and asks the right questions. He knows exactly what to do and he has no problems admitting when he doesn’t. He’s even started bringing you the occasional coffee.

He’s also terribly handsome, but you try to think about other things when you look at him.

Hoseok’s right. At least you have Seokjin. His impeccable work ethic is half the reason you aren’t wearing yourself thin worrying about the resort. He was definitely meant to be a hotelier.

“I guess you’re right.” You nod, letting Hoseok brush a deep maroon lipstick onto you as he finishes up with your makeup. “It could be worse.”

Hoseok mumbles in agreement, stepping back. “Let me look at you.”

You stand up, gown, heels, makeup, and all, letting Hoseok gaze at you to make sure that everything is flawless. You’ve never liked the events you have to attend, but getting dressed up is always something you rather enjoy. Especially when Hoseok is the one doing it.

The dress drapes down your figure perfectly, hugging your sides as it gathers on the floor, leaving just enough space for the tips of your heels to peek out. Your necklace hangs low on your torso and your earrings dangle, soft golden strings with gems at the base. Your eyes sparkle with the help of the glitter that Hoseok has added, touches of shimmer on the high points of your face. You look into the mirror and for once, you feel satisfied.

“Wow,” Hoseok says, proud and beaming. “Look at you.”

There you are.

Days at the resort hotel pass by faster now.

Granted, no work day could ever top the speed at which the days passed when you were younger, playing outside with friends or running around in the yard during recess. But being here isn’t as terrible as you had first made it out to be. At least you don’t have your father constantly looking over your shoulder, even if he does call you every day to ask for updates. And at least the people here have integrity, more so than any of the usual executives you work with up in the central building in town. The people here aren’t brown-nosing you every minute of every day.

And yes, getting to see Seokjin every day is also rather enjoyable. From a professional perspective.

Hoseok says you need to take more time for yourself and relax more but quite frankly, being at the resort hotel is a vacation. It’s a respite from the hustle-and-bustle culture that your father has cultivated in his office building. It’s a break from the neverending business deals, the meetings, the agreements and bargains and contracts. And most importantly, it’s something that you can do without your father’s help.

For once, it almost feels like a little taste of freedom.

Of course, Hoseok would also tease you terribly about the fact that you consider overseeing a resort hotel a break, as opposed to an actual holiday where you take real time off. But he must know that that’s never going to happen. At least, not anytime soon.

You hadn’t realized your father’s retirement was so close. The years pass by in a blur but you have always thought that your father has much too much to finish, tasks and projects, and events that will take another few years to come to fruition. Too many loose ends that he needs to tie up, deals he must close and finances he must track. You’ve been groomed to take over for him since you were young, even before you graduated, but retirement has always felt like a distant future.

Not an imminent happening.

Jungkook hadn’t even sounded surprised when you told him that you would be overseeing the new resort.

You wonder if you’re the only one in your family who hadn’t expected your father to be planning his retirement so soon. The money and savings isn’t an issue—he will continue to invest long after he leaves his office—but the time is. Perhaps he has finished more than you thought he would. Accomplished more goals than you expected he’d do.

Or perhaps, you just grew up too quickly.

Time has always gone by much too fast for your liking. When you were little, when you were in school, when you graduated. You closed your eyes and suddenly all of your youth had whizzed by. You woke up and suddenly you were in and out of four years of college and two years of a Master’s in business. You blinked and suddenly you are about to inherit a company you thought you never would.

The fear of everything ending is enough to keep you away. Away from that skyscraper in the center of the city, where your father’s office sits at the top floor, where he works nonstop to make sure that everything is ready for your arrival. Away from a future you thought you could avoid, until it reached you.

Having this resort hotel, a brand new building in the beachy part of town, with efficient, competent staff and a gorgeous view, is enough to make you want to live in the past forever.

Your phone screen lights up with your father’s contact for the third time today, the green ‘answer’ button and the red ‘decline’ button waiting patiently for your decision. Staring down at it, you frown. You normally aren’t one to purposely miss your father’s calls, but today is the day that the deal with the Ohs is finalized, something that you have zero desire to celebrate.

After a few more moments, your phone stops vibrating in your hand, the screen going back. You roll your eyes and stuff it into the pocket of your pants, not wanting to wait for it to light up once more. You have a feeling that your mother will be phoning shortly to berate you for not answering your father’s calls, a call that you have every intention of ignoring just like the previous ones. You aren’t sure how to make clearer the fact that you think the deal is a bad idea. A terrible one, even. Mostly because the Ohs are horrible people.

Still, you cannot resist pulling your phone out when you feel it buzz against your side.

[Today, 12:27PM]

Jungkook: dude dad’s flipping out because you aren’t answering his calls

Ugh. Not Jungkook, too.

You: Tell him that I will congratulate him on the deal in person later. You: I’m busy right now.

Jungkook: he’s calling just to check in on the resort

You: I give him weekly updates and forward him any pressing news. He’ll manage.

Jungkook: just call him or mom’s gonna call you

You: Tell her that I will congratulate him on the deal in person. You: Later.

Jungkook: are you gonna be like this until dad retires?

You: Like what?

Jungkook: -_- Jungkook: don’t play stupid Jungkook: you’re being stubborn and you know it.

You: Dad already knows that I didn’t approve of him going through with the deal. I don’t imagine he’s expecting a party from me.

Jungkook: you can’t keep ignoring him just because you didn’t approve of one thing Jungkook: how is that professional???? Jungkook: you’re inheriting the business soon Y/N Jungkook: you need to start acting like it

You: Don’t tell me how to act when you aren’t the one busting your ass trying to make sure the business is ready for when he retires. You: You have your own life to lead and your own things to do. It’s not your place.

Jungkook: as a businessman, it isn’t Jungkook: as your brother, it is

You scowl at your screen. The brother card. Jungkook pulls it whenever he and you both know that you’re being unreasonable, and the worst part is that it always works. It always works because Jungkook only ever wants the best for you, wants to see you succeed as a businesswoman, as a future CEO, and as his sister. And who are you to deny him such a simple pleasure?

You: I just have a lot on my plate right now. Dad and I can talk later.

Jungkook: yknow Jungkook: like, occupationally, you are more than ready to inherit the company and you know it. Jungkook: you work so hard 24/7 and you never take breaks, you know exactly what you’re doing and you can command a room better than anyone i’ve ever met Jungkook: but Jungkook: oh idk

You: What?

An impromptu psychoanalysis from your wise-beyond-years younger brother is certainly not something you had been expecting today. But Jungkook always has and always will know you better than anyone else, something that is both a blessing and a curse.

Jungkook: you are so fucking ready to inherit the business Jungkook: i just wish you would realize it

Silence. You pause, watching the three dots appear and disappear over and over again, Jungkook typing and deleting what next he wants to say. Chuckling to yourself, you read his message over and over again.

What’s Jungkook on about? Doesn’t he know what you do? The position you have? Just because you’ll eventually take over the business doesn’t mean you’re ready for it. Isn’t Jungkook aware of how much work you have to do? About how your father assigned you this resort hotel as punishment for disagreeing with him?

You aren’t ready.

You’re barely halfway.

You: Yeah, right.

Jungkook: i’m serious Y/N Jungkook: can’t you see how prepared you are

You: I still have lots to do, Jungkook. Just because I’ve been given more responsibility doesn’t suddenly mean Dad’s going to retire tomorrow and that I’m ready to take over.

Jungkook: that’s not what i meant and you know it

You: I don’t feel like talking about this anymore. Tell Dad that I’ll talk to him about the deal later.

Jungkook: … Jungkook: fine Jungkook: but don’t say i didn’t try to tell you

You angrily switch your phone off, fuming at the fact that the deal’s gone through, fuming at how Jungkook thinks that suddenly because you were given a resort hotel to oversee it means that you’re ready to take over from your father, and fuming at how, above all, there’s a part of you and a part of Jungkook that both know that he is, as usual, right.

There’s a knock on the door to your makeshift office at the hotel and you lose it.

“What?”

You look up just in time to see Seokjin jump slightly at your shout, coffee sloshing around in the cups in his hand. Ah. You hadn’t meant to scare him like that.

Exhaling, you rub at your temples as you set your phone down on the desk, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, Seokjin. I didn’t mean to snap at you. Please, come in.”

“Coffee?” He offers, a small smile on his face as he holds it out.

“You are a lifesaver,” you declare, taking the cup from him happily and having a sip. Perfectly scalding. Seokjin waits patiently behind your desk until you’re finished, swaying slightly. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Oh, no,” he says, shaking his head. “Just thought that I’d let you know that I’ve just got more files on the finances.”

“Oh, excellent,” you declare happily, accepting the small manila folder from underneath Seokjin’s arm. You open it just to browse, and everything seems to be in order. An easy thing to file away for future reference if necessary. And there’s no doubt in your mind that Seokjin’s already faxed you an electronic copy as well. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Seokjin nods. He turns to leave but seems to linger, noticing the tension in your shoulders and the irritation on your face, the way you drink up the boiling coffee like it’s nothing, relishing in the burn down your throat. He almost stops himself, opening his mouth slightly and then closing it, but then he just sighs, and he asks, “Are you alright?”

You sputter out the coffee all over the manila folder in front of you. “I’m sorry,” you say over coughs, the beverage going down the wrong pipe in all of the chaos. “What—what did you say?”

“You just seem more stressed than usual, is all,” Seokjin says, rocking back and forth on his feet with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his ink black slacks.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been snappy recently,” you say, admitting it. “There’s just a lot I’m dealing with right now. Mostly to do with work.”

“I hope I’m helping, then?” He says hopefully, a hesitant grin on his face.

You nod in agreement. Without him, you definitely wouldn’t be sleeping half as much as you do now (which is apparently still not enough, according to Hoseok). At least Seokjin’s there. “You definitely are. I don’t think I’d have made it without you,” you chuckle.

Seokjin smiles. “If you need me to do more, I’d be happy to. Just ask.”

“Thank you, Seokjin. I really appreciate that,” you tell him. In the short time you’ve known him, Seokjin’s kindness has outshone even his stellar work ethic, a trait that you’ve come to admire in him, mostly because you know you can only dream of being as generous as he. “It means a lot.”

“Anytime,” he says, and he means it, too. “I’ll always be here for you.”

And standing here, in your makeshift office, with a matching cup of coffee in his hand, and a gorgeous, toothy smile on his face, you know that he means that, too.

Sometimes, you can’t even believe a man like Seokjin exists. He’s practically flawless.

“I will bear that in mind,” you promise. “You really are a wonderful person, Seokjin. Really.”

Seokjin grins, the compliment going straight to him, blushing furiously as he exits your office, waving a tiny goodbye on his way out. You return it, watching fondly as he nearly crashes into the door frame, hand slamming onto it before he realizes. He laughs at his clumsiness and even from here you can see his cheeks get redder, heating up like the coffee in his hand.

Work is hard. Being the unprepared heir to an enormous conglomerate even harder. But Seokjin’s right.

At least you’ll always have him.

You’ve never been one to develop friendships with your employees, but there is something about Seokjin that’s different. Something about him that makes him a confidant first and a hotelier second. Something about him that pulls you in, an electric, magnetic touch.

You feel like you’ve known him longer than you feel. Feel like you’re closer than you really are.

Some people are just like that, you suppose. Some people just make you wish that you had known them forever.

Quite frankly, you don’t think you could name a single thing wrong about Seokjin even if you tried. He gets your coffee order perfect (not that it’s hard, it’s just that you’ve never told him what it is), he does all of his work before you’ve even asked, and he runs the damn resort hotel better than you do. He’s obviously a people-person and can make others laugh without trying. He’s even figured out how to compliment you, a trait that not even grown businessmen have learned.

The days pass in a blur, made quicker by the ease of working with him. Of being around him. Seokjin lifts up your spirit and he doesn’t even have to try. His competence in the workplace is enough to have you coming by the resort daily instead of weekly, hourly instead of daily, just so you can spend time in a place that, for once, makes you feel relaxed.

Hoseok would say that Seokjin is a miracle-worker.

You would say that he’s just brilliant.

Honestly, sometimes you think that even Seokjin is more well-equipped to run your family’s business than you are. And you’re the heiress.

The differences between Seokjin and all other men you’ve had the displeasure of interacting with (besides Jungkook, because he’s your brother, and Hoseok, because he’s the best) become abundantly clear after your second mother-mandated blind date.

The first one that you went on a couple of weeks ago was alright. He wasn’t an asshole, but also he had the same amount of flavor as the plain white bread that you were served prior to the meal. But no points is better than negative points, right?

You mentioned to your mother that you probably wouldn’t be interested in a second date with him. She didn’t sound surprised.

Unfortunately for you, your second blind date was not nearly as uneventful.

The good part about your date was that it was a brunch arrangement, which is unabashedly your favorite meal of the day and also saves you the trouble of having to get all dressed up for a fancy dinner in the center of the city. But that is where the good parts end.

You don’t know what your parents were thinking, setting you up with a man like Sangmin. Every single thing that you have ever complained to them about a man, Sangmin either did or was. The first red flag was how he showed up to your brunch meeting wearing a navy blue suit. It didn’t get any better from there.

You know that your parents just want you to find someone and settle down, someone who can take the weight off of your shoulders and get you to stop working so hard, someone who will make you happy and who can keep you comfortable, someone who is something that you genuinely will want to spend time with, but you can’t explain why, with this knowledge of your preferences and dislikes, they still send you on dates with men like Sangmin.

Men who boast about their money with every chance they get, checking the time just so they can flash their Rolex watch even though their phone is right there, telling you how many fancy cars they own that deserve a woman like you in the passenger seat. Men who try to explain economic practices that your family pioneered to you. Men whose eyes flash with dollar signs when they hear that you’re going to be inheriting your family’s company.

Your parents want you to find someone who can take the weight off of your shoulders and keep you comfortable? They should let you pick.

At one in the afternoon and not a moment later, you storm into your office, flinging your bag onto your chair as you groan aloud, staring out the window and fighting the urge to punch right through the Plexiglass. There’s no word for the way you’re feeling, the unintelligible growl that you let out. You just aren’t having a very good day.

Your desire to interact with men is at an all time low, and yet, you can’t help but turn around when you hear his voice.

“Knock, knock,” Seokjin says from the doorway, two cups of steaming coffee in his hand. He strolls up happily to you, placing the plastic cup in your outstretched hand. “How’d it go?”

“Bad,” you spit, not wanting to say anything else.

“Oh, no, really?” Seokjin asks, genuinely disappointed. At least someone was rooting for you. You don’t even think you had been rooting for yourself. “Worse than the first guy?”

“Say the first guy was just… slightly stale white bread, okay?” You begin to explain, because Seokjin doesn’t need the details and you don’t need to relive the experience. “Then this guy would be… how would you put it—?”

“Really stale white bread?” Seokjin offers.

“A rotten egg mayonnaise sandwich that’s been sitting in a dumpster for two weeks,” you correct.

Seokjin winces. A perfect reaction, as always.

“It was just bad. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” You decide once and for all, moving to your desk and slamming the coffee cup onto the wood. It sloshes over the edge and splashes around the side, leaving behind a ring that you know you’ll have to clean up later.

Seokjin goes to stand by the window, looking out into the back gardens of the resort, all tropical red flowers and vibrant green leaves. “You have a third one, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you groan, the mere thought sending shivers down your spine. And not the good kind. The fact that the dates aren’t even over yet is enough to send you into a tailspin. “God, my parents are just desperate, at this point.”

“Why?” He asks, turning to face you, brown eyes wide and curious. “Are they worried about something?”

“Ugh,” you begin, on the verge of slamming your head onto the mahogany. The problem isn’t that your parents are worried you won’t find someone. It’s that your parents think that it’s their job to find someone for you. “I think they’re scared that I’m never going to marry, or that I work myself too hard and need someone to spend time with to calm down. I don’t understand. Even if I were to never marry, that’s not a bad thing. I can do what I want. I’m perfectly capable of running my family’s group without someone else.”

“Do you not want to get married?” Seokjin asks. The reason, you realize, that Seokjin is so refreshing, a respite from the rest of the executives that constantly surround you, is because he doesn’t expect anything of you. He doesn’t assume that you’ll eventually marry and become disparaging when you suggest otherwise. He doesn’t assume that you constantly need guidance on official matters that you alone have been tasked to handle. He doesn’t assume that you aren’t capable.

(He did assume your preferred coffee order. And he is an excellent judge.)

“I mean,” you begin, rubbing at your temples in a desperate attempt to relieve your body of the stress that sits upon it, “I suppose that eventually, it would be nice. But I’m in no rush if I haven’t met the right person, you know? Like, I’m not going to force myself to if the time isn’t right. There’s no deadline to get married.”

Seokjin nods in agreement, mouth shut. One of your favorite things about Seokjin is how, whenever you begin to speak, he begins to listen.

“My parents are just putting all of this pressure on me to get married because they think that I’ll need someone’s help when I take over after my father retires. Or they just think that I’m sad and lonely. Which, maybe they’re right about the second part, but I just hate how they’re putting all of this pressure on me to go on dates and get married and work hard when there isn’t even a timeline for me to take over yet. I don’t even have real confirmation that my father is planning on retiring anytime soon. I just—ugh!” There really is no better way to put it than to just shriek and throw your hands up in the air. You sigh, dragging your hand down the side of your face. “Do you ever wish that you could just… I don’t know. Disappear?”

Seokjin’s eyes widen when he hears your words, like they’ve set something off in his brain. Even sitting on your tongue, they feel familiar to you. Where have you heard those before?

He seems to wait for another few moments, contemplating what he’s next going to say, like if he just opens his mouth and lets the words flow out he’ll say something wrong. Little does Seokjin know, in your eyes, nothing he could ever say would be wrong to you.

“You aren’t sad and lonely,” he begins, a nice, comforting pep talk even though you sort of are both sad and lonely. You work nonstop and have three friends, two of which are employed by your family, the other one being your brother. “And you don’t need to rush into getting married if you don’t feel like it, no matter what your parents say. I mean, at least I think you don’t. You’re obviously much more focused on your career and how you want to succeed in the future, and that’s good. It’s something that means a lot to you.”

He takes a few steps towards you, setting his coffee cup on your desk. You look up to him from where you’re sitting in your office chair, letting his words carve themselves deep into your heart, rest within your soul.

Sometimes, you don’t realize you’ve gotten yourself down until someone is trying to pick you back up.

“You do have control over your life,” he tells you, and for once in your life you actually feel yourself believing it. “What you are doing, what you have been doing, is right. Things will come with time. You’ll learn and grow more as you keep living. And even if you aren’t looking for them right now—” he says, eyes wide and knowing and promising, looking at you so desperately because God, he just wants you to listen to him. To let his words mean something. “—there is someone out there who will love you.”

The sound of his voice dissipates into the air, sinking into the floor, dust after a storm.

“You really think so?” You ask, hopeful. You never believed in soulmates but you have always believed in love. Believed that when the feeling was right, you would know.

(That kiss still lingers in your mind, like morning dew after a rainy night. Like frost settling over the grass. Is it possible that you can feel like that again?)

Seokjin nods, firm and true. He does think that. He does. “I do,” he says. “I really do.”

The third date is forgettable.

Or perhaps Seokjin has just enchanted you. So much so that your brain doesn’t even choose to remember interactions with other men. They just aren’t as memorable.

You finish up this round of parent-mandated rich boy blind dates and get back to work, knowing that you might as well make the most of your now-unoccupied time before your mother decides once again that it’s time for you to go on dates again with men you have no interest in. Work, unlike so many other things in your life, will always be a constant. For better or for worse.

Today, it’s barely even dawn before you arrive at the hotel. In recent days, the resort has become your hub for all of your work, even the work that doesn’t have anything to do with it. There’s just something calming about being here. Something that makes you feel more productive. That makes you want to work more.

You slide into your office with ease, coffee in one hand and messenger bag in the other, surprisingly awake considering the sun is hardly over the horizon, soft orange rays peeking out from between the trees and skyscrapers. You don’t imagine there’s a lot of tasks of immediate priority waiting for you on your desk, but there’s always other work to be done. Administrative orders, emails to send, requests to be made. Even here, there’s no shortage of items on your never-ending to-do list.

Seokjin’s not due to clock in for another several hours, at least. But he works long days and longer nights, and he deserves at least the morning off. He should at least be afforded that small luxury.

Sitting down in your office chair, you pull yourself into the desk, elbows resting on the hardwood, head in your palms. The smell of coffee wafts through the air, thick and potent, waking up your nerves, one by one, sending small waves through your brain. You close your eyes, almost drifting back to sleep, sighing happily.

Today feels like a good day.

The hours pass quickly when you’re here, the sun rising slowly in the sky as it always does, day in and day out. You rely on it as much as it relies on you, wakes up this little corner of the world, says hello to the people stepping out of their doors and onto the street. No matter what, you know that the sun will always be there to greet you when you wake and say goodbye before you sleep. Within thirty minutes your coffee is finished, within the hour your emails are answered.

One by one, you check the tasks off your list, responding to a phone call or two, forwarding some files to your father, rejecting a business proposal and requesting changes to another. You don’t even notice the minutes blowing past you until the sun is high in the sky, and the clock is chiming twelve. Noon, already?

“Knock knock,” a voice from the doorway calls.

You feel your body relax when you see Seokjin standing there, peeking his head into your office like he always does. He looks much more casual today, a sweater vest over a button-down shirt, looser beige pants in place of his usual tailored slacks, hair sitting in a tousled mess atop his head, forehead peeking through the strands that hang low over his face, brushing his eyelashes. Instinctively, you glance down to your usual pantsuit attire. Did you miss a memo?

“What, no coffee for me today?” You tease, an eyebrow raised as Seokjin enters, coffee cup-less.

“Not today, sorry,” he says with a guilty smile. “I thought that maybe we could get something else to eat.”

“Oh!” You exclaim happily. “Sure, we can order some delivery. What are you feeling? Sushi? A burger? Oh, I know this wonderful brunch place that’s just a few blocks away—”

Seokjin laughs, a hand reaching out to push your phone done. The mere sensation of his fingertips upon your skin are enough to have you looking back up at him, shellshocked, heart frozen in place. “I was thinking something a little different.”

“Like what?” There are plenty of options for the two of you to pick from.

“How about you and I take a break this afternoon?” He asks, eyes wide with ambition.

You frown, nose scrunched up at the notion. “A break? You mean… leave?”

Seokjin nods. Oh, so you did hear him correctly. “You’re always working so hard. You should take some time off.”

“Ugh,” you respond, rolling your eyes, having had this conversation thousands of times before. “You sound like Hoseok.”

“Hoseok’s right, Miss Y/N,” Seokjin points out, much to your chagrin. “You’ve been working so much lately. Just a little break, alright? We can get out of here and do something fun.”

“Nice try, Seokjin,” you say with a scoff, turning back to the work in front of you. “Maybe some other time.” Which means never, so long as you can help it.

“Oh, come on,” Seokjin says, a pleading lilt to his voice. He’s beginning to pout in front of you, lower lip turned outwards. “Just a couple of hours, please? We can go into the city and walk around for a little bit. Eat some food in the park, or something.”

You look up to him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. That does sound good… but you have work to do, items to cross off your list. This hotel isn’t going to manage itself, and neither is your life. “A couple of hours?” You clarify, interest piqued.

“Just a couple,” Seokjin promises, fighting off the grin that’s etching its way across his face. “Please?”

You sigh.

Twenty minutes and a Lyft ride later, you and Seokjin are standing in the middle of the city, along the streets known for their high-class fashion boutiques and expensive restaurants with afternoon tea. There’s a park a couple of blocks to the north. It’s a part of the city that you rarely get to spend time in, usually trapped in the business skyscraper sector a ten-minute subway ride away, but for that reason alone, it feels brand new.

Seokjin buys you both a cup of expensive coffee despite your objections, and the two of you walk along the sidewalks side by side, sipping from your paper cups with plastic lids, letting the warmth wash down your throats.

It’s nice, being out here. Away from anything that reminds you of work. With someone you’ve wanted to spend more time with for a while, now.

Out here, you can almost pretend. Pretend that you aren’t the heiress to a major global conglomerate, pretend that you aren’t being groomed to marry up, pretend that life is just a little more normal.

Out here, you can almost pretend that you and Seokjin are more than just friends.

“Oh my God, Y/N, look at this shirt!” Seokjin gasps, stopping in his tracks in front of the window of one of the most expensive luxury boutiques you can name. You’re pretty sure that Jungkook shops here sometimes.

The shirt in question is a satin white button-down with hand-stitched birds decorating the fabric, wispy little designs that seem to be fluttering off of the material itself. It stands front and center in the window, a masterpiece meant to have people stopping in the streets just to gaze up at it in awe. It’s doing its job rather well.

“You wanna try it on?” You offer, motioning towards the door of the shop, a sleek, black one with metallic silver accents.

“What?” He asks, turning to you with an eyebrow raised.

You smile, pointing up at the shirt, eyes tracing the drape of the fabric. “Come on, just for fun.”

It doesn’t take much more convincing to have Seokjin marching up to the door and pulling it open, giddy like a child walking into a toy store. He spots what he’s looking for immediately, a single shirt on a silver rack, hanging from a simple wire hanger. Other than the one on the mannequin in the window, there seems to be no other option.

“It even feels expensive,” Seokjin sighs happily, hand brushing over the satin fabric. He holds it out to you, and it’s so light and pliable that you can barely feel your fingertips touching the material.

“There’s the fitting room,” you say, pointing to the back corner, black velvet held up by a rod, muted gray paint lining the walls. Seokjin grins excitedly at you before rushing off, disappearing behind the curtain with a flourish.

Instinctively, your eyes trace the interior, jumping from the hangings on the walls to the decorative shelves, the pastel cashmere sweaters and shiny leather loafers, the silken white button downs and navy striped ties. Every item in this room practically screams Seokjin’s name, and even when he isn’t in front of you can you picture him wearing each piece, picture him in an oversized light pink sweater or a sleek white suit.

It’s weird. You’ve never been able to imagine things like that. Not even on you.

The clothes in here are some of the most gorgeous garments you’ve ever had the pleasure of laying your eyes on and yet there is something else in this room that outshines them all.

“Ready?”

You turn back to the fitting room, watch as the curtain shifts slightly. “Ready,” you say.

A hand comes out to push the curtain to the side, satin sleeves covering his wrist, but not even that glimpse of skin could really prepare you for the sight before your eyes.

Seokjin steps out of the fitting room and you almost gasp aloud at the sight.

The funny part is that he isn’t wearing anything else designed to complete the look. His hair is loose and floppy, like he had brushed through it with his fingers once or twice before deciding it was good enough. His pants are a roomy beige, hardly even complimenting the monochromatic shirt, white with black accents. He’s wearing sneakers.

And yet, he looks stunning.

Standing in front of you, Seokjin looks like the kind of person that your parents would want to set you up with. Rich, well-dressed (not that he isn’t already), powerful, educated. But he looks like more than that, too. He looks like someone straight out of a painting, like a sculpture that belongs in a museum. He stands tall and mighty, the hero after defeating a villain, the love interest in an old-timey film.

God, he looks amazing. Looks like he belongs in those clothes, belongs in this store. Belongs in the kind of life that the usual clientele of this store live in. Something about him is just so familiar. Like he has always fit into the crowd that your parents want you to associate with. Like you’ve seen him before, once upon a dream.

“So,” he says, interrupting your thoughts with a smug smile. “How do I look?”

He must already know the answer to that.

You’re speechless. “I—Wow, Seokjin. You look great.”

A hand comes up to rub at the nape of his neck. “You think so?”

“I know so,” you correct. “It fits you perfectly.”

The fabric shapes his shoulders but drapes over the rest of his torso, including his ridiculously small waist. It both hangs loosely and hugs all of the right places. Your family regularly gets clothing tailored and yet you still don’t think you’ve ever seen any item of clothing fitting someone as well as this one does him. It’s as if the damn thing was made for him.

“It feels like I’m wearing a cloud and a blanket all at once,” he says dreamily, relishing in the feeling. “If only the price tag made me feel this way too.”

“How much is it?”

Seokjin holds out the sleeve to which the tag is attached for you to inspect, and the moment you see a comma in the cost, you understand why. No wonder Jungkook’s fine with shopping here. To your family, that amount is pocket change.

“But you really like it, don’t you?” You ask, looking back up at him, closer now. Seokjin nods, lips pressed together in a thin line, wanting something that he knows he can’t have. You know that feeling, too.

“I would get it if I didn’t mind taking out a loan for it,” he jokes, admiring the detail at the cuffs, the way it cinches in towards his wrist.

“Then let me buy it for you,” you say before thinking twice, because you have more money than you realistically know what to do with and Seokjin deserves it. He looks gorgeous in it and more importantly, he feels gorgeous in it. He emerged from the fitting room and it was almost like there was this white glow surrounding him, this fluorescent halo that made it seem like the shirt was melting into his body.

Seokjin’s eyes widen. “What? No, I can’t let you.”

“Please?” You plead, eyes gazing up to him. “You deserve it. Plus, you look amazing.”

“It’s so much money,” Seokjin reminds you, shaking his head. “I can’t. No.”

“Seokjin, do you even know who I am? I can afford it, don’t worry,” you assure him, already pulling him towards the register, his old sweater vest and button down still hanging on the rack inside the fitting room.

“No, I can’t let you. It might not be a lot of money to you, but it is to me,” insists Seokjin, refusing to back down.

You roll your eyes, figuring out the game that he’s playing. “Then consider it a thank you. For all of the things that you do for me. The least of which is bringing me coffee every day.”

“That’s just my job, Y/N—” He reaches out a hand to stop you from getting out your wallet, his enormous palm cupping yours as you stare at him, fighting over the shirt like two friends with a restaurant bill.

“No,” you tell Seokjin, because his job is to be a hotelier but he became a friend instead. And he didn’t do it just because he was told to. “You deserve it,” you say, placing your free hand on top of his. It makes him look at you, eyes glossy and big and beautiful. “You really do, Seokjin. This is the least I can do to say thank you for being there for me.”

“Ma’am?”

The lady behind the counter catches you both off guard. “Will you be buying this shirt?”

Seokjin looks down at you in disbelief, almost like he doesn’t expect you to say yes. Like he doesn’t think he’s worthy of a shirt with such a high price tag.

But little does Seokjin know, if you could buy the whole universe for him, you would do it in a heartbeat.

You walk out of the boutique with a light heart and a lighter credit card, with Seokjin by your side and his old clothes in a cardstock bag with ribbons for handles. Even if he had resisted at first, you’re happy that he caved. He looks stupidly handsome. You’re actually somewhat regretting agreeing that he should wear the shirt out instead.

A block away from the park is a little macaron store with more available flavors than you can count on both of your hands and toes. Feeling insatiable, you buy a box of twenty-four and decide on the spot that you won’t be leaving the center of the city without having finished them all. The mere scent of the shop as you walked in was enough to send you into a tizzy.

Seokjin scopes out an open spot on the grass, in the shade of a big Japanese maple tree, and the two of you immediately settle down in the park, the blades tickling your ankles as you set the box of macarons in between the two of you and get to work filling your stomachs.

“All of my friends are going to think that you’re like, my sugar mommy for buying me this,” Seokjin says, taking a bite out of the lavender one.

“If you’re really that embarrassed, you could always say that I just gave you a raise,” you offer, peering over into the box to pick your poison. The problem is that you just want to shove all twenty-three into your mouth.

“No way,” says Seokjin over a mouthful of macaron. “A sugar mommy is way more exciting. I’m just lucky I have a boss with a bank account.”

“Well, unlike all of the other men that my parents have sent me on dates with, you actually deserve to have someone treat you once in a while,” you say happily, eventually deciding on a lemon flavored macaron and popping the entire thing into your mouth. “I’ve met very few men who are as charming as you, Seokjin. Charming and kind.”

“‘Very few’?” Seokjin repeats, interest piqued. “Who dares upstage me?”

You laugh at his brazenness, his attractive confidence. “Oh, no one,” you say with a shrug of your hand. “There was this one guy I met at my birthday party, but I didn’t even catch his name.”

“Too busy mingling to ask?” Seokjin teases, looking sufficiently less confident than he did ten seconds ago. Like someone you had just said caught him off guard.

“Yes, actually. And you don’t really need to know this, but he was an excellent kisser, too. Really sent me into a tailspin,” you say, feeling the faint sensation dance across your lips, the ghost of his mouth on yours. “But he ran off at midnight like Cinderella and left only a mask behind to remind me that I didn’t dream up the whole thing.”

“Ah,” Seokjin says with a nod, a strangely succinct answer for a man as wordy as he. A silence settles over the two of you as you continue to eat, slowly emptying out the box of macarons between the two of you, a light snack to keep you occupied when your mouths aren’t running circles around each other. “My dog gave birth a few weeks ago,” he says randomly. “Want to see some photos?”

At your enthusiastic reply, Seokjin pulls his phone from his pocket and opens up his camera roll to reveal a gorgeous terrier with four equally adorable puppies nursing from her, and your heart nearly melts. Nearly all of his most recent photos are pictures of them as they’ve grown older, opened their eyes and learned how to walk, started play-fighting with each other and eventually tracking into new territory (the living room), but you don’t miss the couple of selfies you see here and there. Even with the warped iPhone camera does Seokjin still look positively flawless.

“They’re adorable, Seokjin,” you tell him, heart soft. “I’m in love.”

“Me, too,” Seokjin says happily. “Two of the puppies have future homes but I think I want to keep one of them. I just love them too much to let them all go.”

“You’ll make a great dog dad,” you assure him, sighing contentedly. “God, don’t you even know how perfect you are, Seokjin?”

He is silent.

“Like, you bring me coffee every day and do all of your work and never talk down to me or assume that I don’t know what I’m doing. You’ve raised a family of dogs and have shown them more love than anything else. You even got me to leave the office for once even though you knew that I’d be really annoying about it,” you declare, partially to him, partially to you, and partially to the world, who deserves to know that there is someone out there like Seokjin that is equal parts wonderful and generous and kind and handsome and funny and lovable.

It’s not just the fact that most of your interactions with men your age go sour. It’s the fact that Seokjin is good just because he is, not because he tries to be. It’s the fact that he cares so deeply and loves so much. It’s the fact that for once, there is someone out there who really does understand you.

“You deserve a break,” Seokjin points out. “You work too hard.”

“Hoseok will be so angry that you accomplished what he’s been trying to get me to do for months, now,” you say. You’ve already missed three phone calls and seven texts from him within the last couple of hours.

“It’s my charm,” Seokjin teases, a soft watermelon macaron grin on his face.

“It really is,” you agree, feeling the gap between you close, inch by inch. “There’s just something about you, Kim Seokjin.”

“Mmm, do tell,” Seokjin murmurs, beginning to lean in, your bodies moving of their own accord. Your mouth tastes like lemon and sugar and coffee, but you can’t find it in yourself to care any less. “Because there’s something about you too, Miss Y/N.”

Slowly, you feel your eyes begin to drift shut, craving more than what you already have, itching to feel his lips press against yours, to feel that same fire in your feins. Of course, the next time you kiss someone would be here, underneath a giant Japanese maple in the middle of a city park, the furthest cry from a hotel balcony beneath a starry sky. But something about this is distinctly familiar in a way that you can taste, in a way that you will know once his lips press against yours. Beside you, Seokjin is barely an inch apart from you, pink lips with macaron crumbs hovering over yours. God, he’s so close.

You want him to be closer.

And then—

“Aw, what the—?”

The two of you jerk apart to find a giant stain on Seokjin’s shoulder, courtesy of an unknown flying park visitor who has long disguised themselves amongst the leaves of the maple, waiting for the right time to do its business.

“Seriously?” Seokjin groans, looking down at the white and brown stain that now rests squarely on the fabric of his brand new shirt, an unpleasant splat front and center. “Thank you, bird,” he declares, throwing his hands up in the air.

You fight the urge to laugh at how uncanny all of this is. “I’ll pay for dry cleaning.”

“No, it’s alright,” Seokjin says, grabbing a couple of the napkins from the macaron shop to dab on the stain. “A little soap and laundry detergent will be enough. No big deal.”

“I just feel bad,” you tell him.

“Me, too,” Seokjin agrees, pressing gently against the fabric. “Great timing, too.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, dejected.

Perhaps, if you were a little bit bolder or a little less fearful, you would try again. You would throw caution to the wind and press his lips against his, bird business and all, and never look back. You would relish in the sensation of his mouth on yours, of his hands on your waist, itching to feel that same feeling again. Itching to know that there really is someone out there who will love you.

But you aren’t, and the moment is over. And you can’t, because you just don’t know how to. And you ponder if you will forever wonder what he tastes like, what he feels like.

The clock strikes three.

Some days you come in early, and some days you stay in late.

Later than usual, that is, because you regularly stay past eight in the evening without blinking an eye.

But some nights, you just don’t feel like going home. At least, not yet, you do. Some nights, you would rather stay here.

Home is where you’re supposed to feel at ease, where you’re supposed to relax and unwind, take off your heels and jacket, pour yourself a cup of tea. And that is what your home is to you, a place that you try to keep as free of your work life as possible.

But sometimes, you would rather just work.

Rather work and feel productive and get home a little bit later than go home and feel like you still have so much to do. Rather work than dwell on all of the other parts of your life that don’t involve work, things like marriage and retirement and your family. Things that you feel like you have no say in, no control over. You go home and waiting for you is another phone call from your mother telling you that you need to find someone. You go home and your father drops by to hand you a pile of late-night tasks reminiscent of how hard he’s been working lately. You go home and even if you’re all by yourself, your thoughts take control over your mind. Your worries and fears are magnified.

So some nights, you would rather just work.

Peering out the window of your office, you notice that the stars are just a little bit brighter out here, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Not nearly as clear as they were on your birthday, at a hotel overlooking the town from afar, but clearer. There isn’t a cloud in the sky as the stars twinkle above you, waving hello from millions of light years away.

Nights like these are too rare to spend indoors, huddled over your computer as you draft another email. Just because you’re still at work doesn’t mean you still have work to do. Well, you do, but you’re trying to be kinder to yourself. Trying to cut yourself a few more corners of slack.

The rooftop is not off limits to guests. But you know a couple of secret places that can afford you the privacy you want, the space to lie back against the cement and feel the breeze tickle your skin.

When you arrive, there’s already someone there. A familiar tuft of brown hair, an oversized pink sweater. You wonder how long he’s been out here.

“Knock knock.” Your sounds like a whisper but feels like a shout, the wind carrying the words from your lips to his ears as he turns around, hardly surprised to see you here.

Seokjin laughs when he sees you, this fond, wonderful smile as you stroll up beside him, where he’s sat with his legs crossed on the rooftop’s edge, looking out over the distant city, the waterfront. “Didn’t think you’d still be here,” he says.

“I could say the same for you,” you retort easily, setting down beside him. If you were any braver, you’d rest your head on his shoulder.

You’re not.

“You must know by now that I practically live here,” Seokjin jokes.

“Well, I’m starting to pay rent as well, so you better get used to it, don’t you think?” You tease back, looking out into the same city, illuminated by the same moon.

Seokjin narrows his eyes. “I thought that you were going to start taking it easy on yourself,” he reminds you pointedly, one of the lasting lessons you had learned from the day out on the town. The other being not to sit underneath Japanese maple trees.

“What can I say, I just love to work,” you say, and even though you try to make it sound like a joke both you and Seokjin know you’re not kidding. Work always has and always will be your biggest priority. Never have you lived in a world where anything else comes first. Never have you cultivated that sort of life for yourself.

“How’s your family?” He asks, a broad question with a loaded answer.

You don’t even feel yourself letting out a sigh until the groan leaves your lips, settling like dust. “The same as always,” you say, not even attempting to sound cheerful or happy about it. “They work me hard because they want me to succeed. And I want that, too.”

“But don't you ever want something more?” Seokjin asks, but it’s not the sort of question where he wants you to give him a yes or a no. It’s the sort of question where he already knows that you want to say yes, that there is a whisper deep inside of you that wants to have a life outside of your job, your workaholic family. But you can’t. Because your family is counting on you.

“I just can’t let them down,” you say instead, because you and Seokjin both already knew how you were going to respond anyway. “There’s so much that they expect of me. What kind of heiress—no, what kind of daughter am I if I don’t at least try?”

“It sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot,” Seokjin muses.

You force a chuckle. Obviously you have. Whenever you aren’t working, you’re thinking about what next you must do, what next is on your list. You’re thinking about how your family is counting on you to succeed. And how you want to do it for them. “I’ve had my moments.”

“Do a lot of people know how you feel?” He poses, looking at you curiously.

You shrug. “Not really. My parents, no. Jungkook, sort of. Hoseok, yes. And I suppose you, now, too.”

Seokjin cracks a small smile, this lopsided grin that makes you feel like you’re missing something. “So I guess they’re secrets, aren’t they?”

“Secrets?” You respond naively, an eyebrow raised in bewilderment.

“Secrets, huh?” He asks, sliding another inch closer, daringly so, teetering on the edge of territory that you haven’t touched in years. “I like the sound of that. Got any more for me?”

You smirk up at him, a grin playing on your lips. “Only if you have one for me in return. No freebies.”

He laughs, loud and clear, the sound ringing out in the nighttime air. “Alright,” he says, obliging. He leans in close, lips hovering above your ear. “I think you’re gorgeous.”

“Oh my God,” you say aloud, dumbfounded. “Oh my fucking God. It’s you?”

Seokjin laughs out loud at that, clapping his hands together at your positively shocked face, mouth agape like a fish out of water. He seems very amused by this, for some reason. A reason you can’t ascertain, mostly because you had no idea. “Honestly, I’m surprised you even figured it out from that. It took you forever to realize.”

You’re so scandalized you don’t even have the right words to respond. “What do you mean, ‘it took forever for me to realize’? Why didn’t you say something?” You demand.

Seokjin’s still fighting off the remnants of his laughter, hiccups escaping from his parted lips every few seconds. “Because it was obvious you didn’t recognize me at first! And I had no idea it was you until you showed up at the hotel that first day anyway. And I didn’t want to bring it up, because I was worried it would have made things weird.”

“Look at us now!” You cry, positively mortified. Seokjin knew it was you the moment you stepped through the sliding glass doors and you still hadn’t figured it out, not even after weeks of knowing him, of getting to spend time with him. “God, I just—I can’t believe this.”

“The funny part is how I knew you had no idea who I was and yet I fell for you anyway,” Seokjin says, but his words aren’t making you laugh whatsoever.

Your heart freezes in place as they sink in, etching themselves into your thoughts. “You—you what?”

“You befriended me without knowing that I was the man you kissed on the balcony that night, let me bring you coffee and confided in me and bought me the most expensive item of clothing that I currently own,” Seokjin says, a list of things that you loved him for all the same, “and I realized that it didn’t take that kiss to get me to fall for you. It took knowing you. Learning who you are. Who you want to be.”

You feel your heart getting lighter with every syllable that leaves his mouth, every breath that he takes.

The truth is that no man had ever made you feel the way that the mystery man did when you kissed that night. But no man had ever loved you the way that Seokjin did. Treated you the way that Seokjin did. The kiss was a spark.

The friendship was the fire.

“All this time you were right here,” you muse, looking at him. Here in the moonlight you finally understand why he looked so familiar, why the light hit his skin in all the right places, why the sound of his voice had always struck a chord within you. He glows silver in the moonlight and yellow from the halo above his head, he sits beneath the navy sky and lets the starlight decorate his irises, sparkles in a deep brown ocean. “All this time, and I had no idea.”

“I’m sort of glad you didn’t know,” Seokjin admins sheepishly. “We got to fall in love another way.”

Love?

Could it be?

You’ve never truly been in love. Not the way that your parents are, or the sneaky way you see Yoongi looking at Jungkook sometimes when he’s not looking. But if it feels anything like this, anything like electricity beneath your skin and embers inside your chest, then you think you might be on your way.

“You’re in love with me?” You ask.

“Kinda, yeah,” Seokjin admits crudely.

You feel your cheeks heating up, your heart bubbling within you. You lean in close, watching faintly as he does the same, eyes trained on your lips. “Do you have any other secrets for me?” You murmur, the words hot and heavy on your tongue.

He inches closer to you, lips hovering above your own, this soft, contented smile on his face as he gazes down at you, at the way that you are beginning to love him back, at the way that you already do.

“This.”

The words barely leave his lips before he’s pressing them against yours, and the moment you touch him you know, you know that it’s him, that it’s Seokjin, that he is the man that you have been waiting for. Immediately your body lights up, electric shocks tearing through your veins, blood set alight. He is so familiar, smells and tastes and feels so familiar, like you have known him for a thousand years and you’ll know him for a thousand more. You get the same sensation you had when you last kissed him, all those nights ago, your body going weak, your skin turning to flames, but there’s something else, too.

A burst in your chest. A puff of smoke in your heart.

A fireplace. A little room in your heart, just for the two of you. For you. For your love.

You think you could get used to this.

He pulls away after a few moments and immediately you feel dizzy, like his lips were the only thing keeping you stable, closing your eyes as you burn the feeling into your brain, memorize how his mouth presses against yours.

When you finally open them, there Seokjin sits, kiss-drunk and in love, this goofy, wonderful smile on his face.

“I’m still angry at you for not telling me. You could have saved us so much time,” you declare, not wanting the moment to last too long for fear that you’ll become obsessed.

Seokjin laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your nose. “Even if you forgot who I was tomorrow, I wouldn’t tell you,” he says, this stupid perfect grin on his face, this gorgeous, brilliant grin, “because I would happily fall in love with you all over again.”

God, he is so beautiful. A dream come true. A happy ever after.

The following morning your father saves you the trouble of having to awkwardly explain why you don’t feel comfortable continuing to oversee the resort hotel by letting you know that you’re welcome back in the central building in town and that he’ll have another executive replace you. Thank God, because that would have been one strange phone call.

Luckily, when your parents do eventually meet Seokjin, they are pleased to see that he’s been a loyal hotelier to your family’s conglomerate for several years now, and that he excels at his job. You also think that your mother’s just gotten softer over the years, wishing more for you to be happy than for you to be married to someone you hate.

It’s a good thing Seokjin’s charming. Otherwise, you have no idea what could have happened. But he’s here, and he’s with you, and your parents are happy and so are you. What more could you ask for?

“Your mom really didn’t have to throw this whole party just for me,” Seokjin whispers into your ear as the music plays on inside, this soft classical sound that Yoongi had composed not too long ago.

You turn around to look back in through the window, watching all of the guests waltzing along to the song. Jungkook’s in the back corner, behind the grand piano, and you can see him throwing winks Yoongi’s way every now and then. The sound of the party is barely audible from out here, in the stars’ silence, in the faint way the night whispers, this distant white noise.

“Throwing parties is her thing,” you explain helplessly. “Besides, you’re part of the family now, aren’t you?”

“Hey now, we aren’t married just yet,” he reminds you pointedly. “Unless you—?”

“Only after my father’s retirement next month,” you tell him for the umpteenth time. It’s not that you don’t want to be married. It’s that you don’t have time. You’re about to inherit an entire empire. You would prefer not to be juggling two major life events at once, if you can help it. “Besides, you don’t even have a ring.”

“How do you know that?” He asks innocently.

You smack him in the torso with your satin-gloved hand, shocked. “What?”

“I never said anything,” he teases, looking off to the side far too guiltily for your liking.

You place your hands on your hips and turn firmly to face him. “Kim Seokjin, do you want to marry me?” You demand.

Seokjin laughs, twirling you around before pressing a kiss to your lips, the two of you giggling. “Always!” He declares to the world. “I think about marrying you every day of my life.”

You grin. “Then we will. Then let’s get married. After my father’s retirement, of course.”

“Of course,” Seokjin agrees.

“What do you think the theme should be?” You ask, racking your brain for potential options. You like the idea of a rustic, cottage-y wedding. Or perhaps a more celestial one. Or maybe, if you wanted to go full circle, a masquerade.

Seokjin smiles. It’s clear he already has his answer.

“How about Cinderella?”

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