#and when i say almost all colors it’s because a lot of makeup companies are shit with wide ranges of pigment and will have white bases for | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

Text

“you make me so angry sometimes”

idk if this gif makes sense, but i feel like it will if you read the story, it just gives me that vibe.

A one shot I cooked up idk, it’s about Harry and a makeup artist on DWD, it’s quite angsty, idk how that happened, it’s also very long, idk how that happened either, maybe i do a part 2, maybe i don’t idk lmk. Feedback is appreciated, not proofread. REBLOGS help writers tremendously and i love reading whatever you write in the tags its my favorite thing!! Love yall and Merry Christmas!

Word Count: 17.7k | Warnings: ENEMIES to LOVERS! swearing, angst!, some anxiety -like self-doubt, yn being mean to harry kind of a lot, i dont remember, nothing too crazy, Nick Kroll?, lots of conversation

When she pictured herself as a makeup artist in Los Angeles, she hadn’t pictured exactly what she was doing right now.

She had expected doing gorgeous makeup for gorgeous actresses or doing wildly fun stuff like in Euphoria. And because of that she had worked her ass off to get where she was today. She had practiced for hours, worked countless hours for free, and networked to the cows came fucking home.

So why the fuck was she using tattoo-strength concealer to cover up the maybe 60 tattoos some asshole musician turned actor had all over?

Don’t Worry Darling was her first major film to work on so she couldn’t complain. She was happy to simply be there. Well she had been. The first day she had showed up 15 minutes early and had worn her favorite power suit she had. It was dark navy with a white lace long sleeve turtleneck underneath. She hoped to look fun but professional.

Hollywood was all about impressions, especially first ones, even when you’re the makeup artist. She had quickly learned that she was one of six makeup artists. One of them being the friend who had helped her get the job, Angie. Angie was like her surrogate mother in Los Angeles that she had met on her first film job for something much less high profile than Olivia Wilde’s second directing project. Her braided grey hair and fabulous jeans had drawn Y/N right in and they had connected instantly.

Since Y/N was deemed the most inexperienced by the head of the makeup department, she was relegated to easier jobs: assisting the other artists on main characters sometimes, mostly dealing with minor characters touch ups (and full make-up if she was lucky), and the job nobody wanted: tattoo coverage.

Harry Styles was one of the leads for the film and besides his minimal acting, everyone knew he was a worldwide rockstar. With the rock and roll life starting off as a popstar life at the ripe age of 16, he had amassed around 60 tattoos in the past decade. Impressive by her standard normally. She usually counted herself as an appreciator of tattoos and their art, finding them similar to makeup and the self expression that came with both forms. Especially since she had a few of her own, but when she walked into Trailer #6 and saw a good amount of Harry’s tattoos, she wanted to murder every artist he’d ever been to.

She had to make an inventory the first day of all of his visible tattoos when he was just wearing boxers. He had been friendly, trying to make conversation, but as the time wore on, they both grew tired and silent. She had to write down the location and a description of every tattoo and as he took off everything but boxers she grew more and more annoyed with his random and dumb tattoos. Some of them were amazing, the eagle, the anchor, the butterfly, and the ferns were probably her favorites. But some of them, she couldn't hold back her rolling eyes and annoyed expressions. The “Big” on his right big toe, a miniscule lock, almost everything on his inner left arm (the packers logo, Pingu, etc.)

She traces at the rose and the ship and then flips his arm out to reveal his inner arm to her gaze. “That is a big fucking bee.”

He snickers, “Y’like it?”

She ignores his question. “For god’s sake, someone is needle happy,” she said as she examined his left arm, taking note of every permanent drawing.

He shrugs his right shoulder, uninhibited by her prodding. “Dunno, beginning to regret some of them.”

“I would hope,” she mutters, scribbling on her paper the various ones she had just seen on his arm. Next was his ribcage ones.

He scoffs, “Oi, it’s not like you haven’t got any.”

“How would you-” She looks at him wide eyed.

“Right…” he takes his right hand and pushes her hair past her ear to reveal three little red line butterflies following the curve of her ear, “There. At least.”

She huffs and knocks his hand away from her. Her hair falling back into its place.

“Maybe some located in a few more intimate places I’m guessing from the red rushing to your cheeks right now.”

“Can you just let me do my job,” she says, not giving in to his teasing or sparing him a glance as she feels his intense gaze on her face. She was studying his left rib cage where a few cool tattoos happened to be.

“You at least have some taste or persuasive artists because not all of these are shit,” she speaks again after just the sound of her pen on the paper filled the trailer.

“Gee, thanks,” he laughs unamused and rolls his large green eyes.

She thought he had some of the biggest eyes she’d ever seen. But she also knew to keep that to herself because he’d either take it as a compliment and think she was noticing him too much or he’d take it as a massive insult and get her fired.

His right hand taps at his thigh, tapping a rhythm she didn’t care to pay any attention too. She just wanted to finish the stupid inventory of the stupid tattoos on this stupid man.

“Take those off,” she says to Harry, looking back at her clipboard again, filling up quickly with her notes.

He stands there, staring at her stubbornly. He was entirely bored with this exercise, especially since his company was some of the worst he’s ever had. She spares him a glance when she doesn’t notice any slipping off of the colorful sweatpants he’s wearing.

She arches a brow at him, her pen tapping impatiently against the paper. “Go on. Can’t imagine you want this to go on longer than it already has.”

He rolls his eyes again, slipping his thumbs into the waistline of the pants and tugging down. Simultaneously, he toes off the dirty vans he seemed to wear everywhere. The fabric pools easily and he steps out of them and discards them on the couch behind him. He’s actually wearing black briefs. She chooses not to notice anything further than that.

“Socks...can stay on,” She tries to say as he begins to peel one off. He stops midway and nods.

She flings his shirt to him, not needing to see his naked torso for another moment, “I know you’ve got some feet and ankle tats, but I also know that you won’t be wearing anything that will expose them. Thank your lucky stars that I don’t have to makeup your feet.”

He catches the shirt easily and slips his arms inside before tugging it quickly over his head and over his expansive shoulders. The ferns disappear out of sight.

“Well then we’re almost done then. Just got the knee ones -”

“And the tiger. That’s gonna be one son of a bitch,” she sighs and examines his legs, not bothering to crouch.

“What the actual fuck dude?” Her tone is exasperate and like she would rather be anywhere else than here.

“I’m sorry?” He sputters, hands on his hips and eyes bewildered.

“Yes. No. Oui. Non. Who are you?” She rubs at her eyes and shakers her head.

“S’a little rude.”

“You’re right,” she semi-rushes out at his serious tone, ready to apologize. When a grin spreads over his face and he chuckles under his breath she really wants to smack him upside the head. He was exhausting. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thought it was funny at the time. Kind of think it’s even funnier now since it’s got you all mad.” He leans over her shoulder to look at her notes and when she glances at him unhappily he just looks smug.

“Alright,” she finishes the scribble of a description and clicks the end of her pen, “All done. You can get dressed. I’ll see you bright and early for tattoo makeup. It’s gonna take about an hour to do all this, just so you can mentally prepare for that.”

“It was nice to meet you,” he attempts at a friendly and professional farewell. “See you tomorrow…” he trails off as he watches her turn on her heel and walk out of the trailer door swiftly. The door swung shut and bounced a little bit in her wake.

Harry sighed and adjusted his clothes and hair in the mirror. After a moment he shakes his head, an even louder sigh escaping him.

“Good morning!” She greets happily, walking into the trailer without a knock. Well-rested and happy at least that she doesn’t have to just inspect a body, she looks around the trailer.

She realizes no one is there and she’s taken aback. First of all, if Harry wasn’t there then he shouldn’t have left his trailer unlocked. And second, he was fucking late, the fucking twat.

She grumbles, setting her coffee on the countertop. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “In through the nose, out through the mouth” she mutters. She knew this was a big opportunity and having a big star like Harry in her corner could make her career. She needed them to get off on a better foot today.

“Good form, I’d say relax the shoulders a little more,” the door swings open carrying the California twang-British accent that she would soon become all too accustomed to.

Harry points at her shoulders and narrows his eyes regarding her in the trailer. She offers a strained smile through the mirror and Harry sets down his personal things on the couch.

“Alright, well let’s get started shall we,” she smiles and turns to him, gesturing to the swivel chair next to her.

He nods, a twinkle in his eye as he regards her. He’s unsure of the tone and attitude she’s giving him today. She had been feisty yesterday, cordial at times, but mostly biting and witty. He had liked it. It had made the whole ordeal bearable whereas now she seemed to be laying it on a little thick.

“Just your hands and neck today,” she says, pulling out the makeup materials needed and a checklist of the tattoos she needed to make sure were invisible.

“Should only take..a little under an hour today. Just gonna remind you now though, other days we won’t be so lucky.”

Harry chuckles under his breath and rolls his head around his shoulders before sitting in the chair. “Were you tired yesterday?” He inquires.

“Why do you ask?” She throws a glance over her shoulder at Harry. He’s begun slipping off his sweatshirt and yawns as he does it.

“You seem different from yesterday and I’m just wondering which one is the real you.”

She continues working about the room and rolls her eyes to herself, “I’m always the real me. I come no other way, but this morning I woke up and thought ‘this is the job you’ve fucking wanted for ages, so stop being such a bitch so you don’t get fired, you prick’.” She pauses and turns to face Harry. “The ‘you prick’ was directed at me, that was still part of my thought,” she adds.

He throws his head back and laughs. Then he nods, still laughing lightly, “I get that. Sometimes I’m just so in my head and yesterday I was just so fuckin’ bored. Sorry if I got on your nerves.”

“Don’t mention it.” She waves her hand at him nonchalantly.

Then she moves to inspect his hands and notices the lack of rings, unlike yesterday when she had to make him take them off.

“You have amazing cuticles,” she notices and mentions without any pretences. Harry mutters his thanks, pursing his lips as he watches her work.

She stops her inspection and places the clipboard on the countertop in front of them.

“Could you take your necklaces off? I need to cover up half of the swallows and the years, for when you unbutton your shirt a bit.”

He wets his lips and nods, hands going to fiddle with the clasps behind his neck. He slips off one of the necklaces with ease, a yellow eye beaded necklace that he lays gently on the countertop next to the clipboard. Then he takes his cross and pulls it over his head, no clasp needed.

“Could I put some music on?” Harry asks after five minutes of Y/N working in silence and Harry only being able to stare either at himself, her work, or nowhere.

“I can,” she stops her work for a moment, “Can’t have you messing up the makeup before it sets. Otherwise I’d have to kill you.” Harry can’t be sure if she’s joking or not. Therefore, he was intent on not messing it up.

“Any requests?” She stands at the counter now, instead of seated on a stool working on Harry's left hand.

He shrugs, like he hasn’t got the faintest idea about good music. She refrains from rolling her eyes once again because she feels herself in a test. She wets her lips, sifting through different things in her Spotify and then lands on her playlist titled “it’s your song” named after Elton John’s song. It had some other musicians, a mix of Queen, Bowie, and more and she was sure she would pass the test.

She presses shuffle and She’s Always A Woman by Billy Joel begins to play over her laptop. Harry nods pleased and she wants to shake her head at him.

She can’t hold back the scoff though after a moment of going back to finishing his hand.

“What?” His British accent thickens with his annoyance growing.

“Nothing,” she chirps, intently putting the final touches on his wrist.

“Seriously. What?”

She stands and sets down the makeup. “Can you unbutton your shirt?” She made a note to herself that from now on she’d have to have him take his shirt off before setting to work because if his hands got messed up she’d have to start over. Thankfully he was already wearing a button up this morning.

He stares at her, offering no movement, just inquisitively waiting for her to respond to his original question.

She shuts her eyes, taking another deep breath and then bites at her lower lip. “It’s just...you’re so easy to read.” She fears adding anything else and moves towards him with the makeup hoping to encourage him to unbutton his shirt.

His right hand deftly pulls at the buttons as he regards her. His eyes are intent on her, she can see him clearly calculating her. Her green paisley button up tucked up into the back of her bra leaving a splay of her stomach. The semi-balloon sleeves cinched at the wrists leading to her slightly ringed hands. The oversized blue jeans that have no holes, just a tiny patch right next to the left pocket. The frayed ends of the pants laying over her rather pristine white old skool vans.

The Boxer fades in as she waits for him to finish the unbuttoning of the shirt. He’s still staring at her.

“Am I?” He finally inquires, voice pitched higher like he doesn’t believe her.

She gives him a serious stare and leans over him and adjusts the collar of his shirt. She adds paper towels to avoid makeup on his clothes.

“Yes!” She laughs, “And you don’t even think so, which is like...of course.”

He hums, tilting his head back as she sets to work on covering up the swallows. He wiggles his hands that now both rest on the arm chairs.

“I don’t see it.”

“Of course you don’t,” she glances at his face, their eyes meeting for a moment. “You’re Harry Styles. Everyone is in love with this image you created for yourself and it has just enough of your true self that people feel like they really know you, but you also maintain the illusion. So you think you’re this mysteriously amazing, not like the rest guy, but you are just like the rest of them. Obsessed with yourself and rich so you’re deemed eccentric rather than crazy for all the extravagant shit you do. So when you want me to play music and don’t offer any suggestions I know exactly what music I need to play for you to like me.”

“I feel like that last part says more about you than it does me,” he quirks a brow at her, straining his neck to look at her face as she continues to work.

She flushes, his response both better and worse than she expected. She had gotten a little carried away in her response and she had no idea why. She truly wasn’t one to go off on people so easily and especially not with someone she hardly knew, but something about Harry had her on edge. She was just thankful he hadn’t gotten mad at her response, instead he took it in stride. Further proving her point that he was extremely smart and did things purposefully and she saw right through it all.

She grumbles, “It says that all anyone has to do to get close to you is understand the smallest bit about you and you’ll let them in.”

“That is just so completely wrong, Y/N, I hate to break it to you.” It’s Harry rolling his eyes now, unable to move much more of his body as she continues painting on the concealer to remove his tattoos for the movie.

“Fine. Enlighten me on what I got wrong.”

Their argument had all but drowned out their music. They both did love this music and ironically if they would just shut their mouths, they’d probably like each other a lot more.

“Might as well,” he sighs. “First of all, my image is authentic and of course I don’t want to give myself all away. I enjoy my privacy and for everyone to truly know me I’d have to give that up. Which I’m not keen on. So, I regret to inform you but I am the same guy everyone is “in love with”. Second, I know I am a little self-involved, how else would I get here if I wasn’t constantly taking inventory of myself and reevaluating who I am. As a musician, I want to give as much of myself as possible or else it just feels inauthentic. And the extravagant thing, I can’t help that I like nice things and my job has allowed me to afford those things.”

He stops to take a deep breath and she’s working in stunned silence, in disbelief that Harry is even telling her any of this or that he’s spoken that much and so quickly. Wasn’t he notorious for speaking slowly with barely even a sentence worth of actual information. He sounds tired and frustrated, but also, surprisingly, sincere.

He continues, “The music thing. Maybe it was a test, but still it doesn’t mean I give everyone a mile when they say their favorite musicians match up with mine or something. I note that they either did their homework or might be an interesting person to get to know.”

“So which am I?” She widens her eyes.

“Obviously the second even if you’re also making it painfully clear that you don’t like me.”

“You’re smarter than I thought, Harry. I’ll give you that,” she smirks slyly, finishing up the bird coverage now.

He laughs. “Thanks,” he drawls out.

“And I admit that maybe you aren’t as easy to read as I made out, but I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree about the whole being your authentic self. I just don’t buy it. I can see your mind working constantly, you’re not one to just let yourself be free in public. And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, I’m just saying, you shouldn’t pretend like that’s not what you’re doing.”

Her final thought leaves Harry silent. She pays no attention to his silence or at least she’s actively ignoring it. Instead she tunes back into the music that had gotten them back onto the wrong foot. This was going to be a long few months.

When she’s satisfied with her work, she has them sit there for thirty minutes to give it all time to set before Harry is off to hair and other makeup. They sit there listening to music. Neither of them have spoken again, except instructions from her and Harry’s hums of approval of songs.

Harry stands up after thirty minutes as she stays behind to pack up some items. Just as he’s about to step out of the door, he turns and calls her name.

“For the record, I don’t think you’re giving me a fair shot. You said yourself that you’re different every day. That every version of you, is you. So I hope you’ll give me the same allowance, every version of me is me. In this trailer, in my music videos, on tv, in interviews, in my free time. It’s all truly me.”

She bites her inner cheek as he ducks his head and exits the trailer, not allowing her any response.

“You’re late!”

“Meeting ran over with Nick and Olivia. Sorry,” Harry says as he begins to undress.

It’s the first day she has to cover all of his tattoos. It was going to take forever by all accounts. It had been two weeks since shooting had begun and she had gotten the simple hands and neck down to 45 minutes so she could only dread what his entire body would take.

“It’s fine,” she grumbles, knowing there wasn’t really anything else she could say about him coming late from a meeting with the director and producer.

Over the last two weeks, they hadn’t grown any fonder of one another. Not at all. They at least had gotten into a system though and she was grateful for that at least.

They showed up, Harry got in his chair, she set up the music, and they got to work. Harry would practice lines on some days and he’d tell her that before she turned on the music so there were no interruptions. Sometimes they talked about stuff on set or music or she’d give Harry his line when he was trying to be off script and forgot one. She wouldn’t classify it as pleasant, but they weren’t at each other throats like they were originally.

Trailer 6 had gotten a little homier as the weeks went by, too. Harry began leaving some of his stuff there and he started putting up silly drawings he would make while on set or polaroids people had taken with him while he was there. He tacked up napkins of restaurants that catered the set and wrote funny jokes and quotes on post it notes. His personal assistants sometimes brought in snacks while Y/N was still working and Harry always offered her some. They were usually healthy, but sometimes she’d eat some. Jeff, his manager, had also stopped by on occasion during his tattoo touch-ups that had become a thing after shooting days had grown longer.

On first meeting, Jeff had said, “Y/N? Harry mentioned you.”

She had turned to Harry with an arched brow and he had shrugged. When she looked back at Jeff she didn’t see Harry give Jeff one of the deadliest looks he could muster. She had grimaced and said “Well we spend enough time together for him to know my name. So thank god for that at least.”

They had all laughed and she had gotten back to work on Harry’s wrist.

Today, she needed Harry in his shorts. It was the first day of shooting where his character would be only in his boxers so she had to cover up all his visible tattoos. Olivia had told the makeup department they actually had to cover up his feet tattoos as well. She wanted him sockless in the scene and Y/N had groaned immediately when she made it to the trailer and Harry wasn’t already there.

“But please, for the sake of my job, strip, dude.” She says, arms crossed over her chest and leaning against the counter as she watched Harry set his things down. Her soft green striped cardigan is open, exposing the white tank top sitting underneath. Her bright green shorts hang loose on her, cinched at the waist and folded over once. Her white high top nike’s tap impatiently on the floor, waiting for Harry to get moving.

He nodded, truly feeling sorry for his tardiness, knowing today was a long day. He was anxious and tired. Acting was a different experience to music and he just was really trying his best.

As he began to take off his shirt, he laughed. His arms pulled the shirt over his head and when it popped out from beneath it, he repeated, “Strip, dude,” attempting to mimic her American accent.

He had practiced his American accent in front of her while running lines, but it had a 50’s drawl to it. His acting coach had been drilling him for weeks before shooting and he still liked to practice. The accent he had just down was far off from that and far off from hers too.

“Do not,” she warned.

“What?” He asks innocently and flutters his eyelashes.

She knows his game by now and she knows she should just ignore him. She knows this after fourteen days. She knows this after hours with him. She knows this, but then she’s opening her mouth and playing into his teases.

“Sorry, what’s a word you would know? Mate?” She tries for a British accent with the last word, knowing she can’t win this.

Harry snickers and scratches at his nose with his index finger before starting on taking off his pants. “You’re so Californian.”

“Thank you,” she chirps, moving to sit beside him now that he had settled.

“I like your shorts,” he muses, crossing his legs, likely a little cold.

She glances down at her cotton shorts that showed more of her thighs when she sat for a moment before returning her gaze to his left arm. The longest task of the day was this damn arm.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, “Wanted to be comfortable today. Knew it was gonna be long.”

A smile bubbles onto his face, his pink lips parting to reveal his shiny white teeth behind them. “So true.”

The music is low today. She had chosen Joni Mitchel’s Blue album for the first pick of the day. She had quickly learned Harry preferred listening to albums in order. It tended to make him less jumpy when the same artist came on multiple times like an album. So when she tried to play just an album one day, she found him more cooperative and less irritable.

After thirty minutes of work, she can’t stop noticing how shivery Harry is. It was late October in LA, so it was still warm, but admittedly the mornings could be a little chilly. His shivering was concerning for many reasons. Mainly he was messing up her work and concentration, but she also didn’t want him to get sick or something.

“Do you want me to see if they have a blanket and slippers or something? You look like you’re turning blue.”

Harry turns his attention to her. He had been reading over the script for today again. “That’d be great. I can call…” He trails off trying to think of the name of one of his assistants, but apparently he’s too scatterbrained for it. She assumed it was the hypothermia traveling to his brain already.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll walkie someone.” She says as she grabs the walkie talkie, flicking to the personal assistants channel.

“Hey,” she chirps happily. Harry noted how she talked to other people. So sweet, yet sincere. With him, it was serious and sincere but more biting, callous at times. Less so lately, but she definitely was sharper with him. He didn’t know if it even bothered him anymore. She was engaging if nothing else.

“Is someone free to bring two blankets and men’s slippers over to Trailer 6? I’ve got a naked Jack and I don’t want him freezing before I’m done covering up his tattoos.” She takes her finger off the talking button and glances sideways at him, “Who knows, maybe that would improve his acting. Y’know on second-thought-”

“Alright, alright,” Harry tries to grab for the walkie talkie, but she turns from him holding a finger up signalling him to wait as she listens for a response.

Someone says a simple “On it” and she turns off the walkie talkie and gets back to work.

“I took my finger off the speaker before I said the thing about your acting. Relax, Harry.” She says when he’s still glaring at her. “Just love to see you squirm.”

He shakes out his short chestnut hair, some of it falling over his forehead. Instinctively, she reaches up without even looking and smooths it back. Like she was tucking her own hair out of her eyes, but instead it was Harry’s. She decided to say nothing and was relieved when Harry didn’t say anything either.

She finishes his forearm and moves to his outer upper arm. The rose holds her attention when the PA knocks on the door and she has to race to get it. Nothing could stop her from moving on this work. It was already an hour in and she wanted to scream.

She swings open the door and she wants to die. It was Autumn. Her least favorite PA, of course. She was insufferable and obsessed with Harry. Which was not why Y/N found Autumn insufferable. There were so many more reasons. So many. But that particular character flaw didn’t help her case either. Y/N tried to just take the blankets and slippers from Autumn, but the woman insisted that she come in.

“I’ve got it,” Y/N says.

“No, don’t want you to get makeup on anything,” Autumn’s saccharine voice grinds at her ears and she contemplates cutting them off.

Harry sat in his chair, legs crossed, nodding along to the music, his script discarded on the counter in front of him.

“Hi Harry!” Autumn practically yells, walking right up to him.

Y/N takes a deep breath at the door, letting it swing shut. She bites her lower lip as an attempt to bite her tongue as she walks back to her set-up. The set-up Autumn was conveniently blocking.

“Hello, Autumn,” Harry says kindly, making eye contact with her. “How’re you today?”

“So great! So great! Thanks for asking. How are you?” She points a finger at him like she might poke him and Harry squirms away from her a bit. She, of course, doesn’t notice this.

“Well, thanks.” His eyes flicker to Y/N, who is standing behind Autumn, hands on her hips and attempting not to tap her foot. His tone is clearly dismissive, but Autumn must ignore it. Y/N knows Autumn isn’t as helpless as she tries to come off.

Autumn asks, “Where do you want these?”, gesturing to the two blankets and slippers stacked on top.

“Just on the counter is fine, thanks,” Harry says.

Autumn does as he says and then stands there with baited breath. Y/N’s not sure what she’s expecting. For Harry to ask for her hand in marriage or something? But he just glances between the two women. His own foot begins wiggling in impatience.

“Busy day,” He attempts at dismissing her once again - with kindness.

“Oh my gosh, totally!” Autumn gushes, starting to go off on all of the tasks she has to do. She stands so close to Harry, Y/N genuinely thinks she’s going to sit in his lap. Y/N stares up to the ceiling, begging god or whoever to end her misery right there and then.

Harry sees Y/N’s expression and tries to maintain the neutral expression he’s had for the entirely too long interaction. A smile threatens at his rosey lips that had chapped from the morning air.

“Right, well,” he cuts off Autumn, “Y/N needs to get back to tattoo coverage, I think. So...have a nice day.”

Autumn’s eyes widen like she forgot that there was anyone else in the room and steps back from Harry. Y/N nods, a grimace clear on her face. Autumn gives her the same small she used to get from the popular girls in high school when she happened to be talking to their cool guy friend that they wanted to be more than friends with. Sickeningly sweet and completely fake. She could see the contempt in Autumn’s eyes that swirled just beneath the surface of her perfectly outlined green-ish eyes.

“Okay! You too, Harry!” She begins walking to the door and Y/N takes her seat again, closing her eyes and counting to ten. “And Y/N,” Autumn adds as an afterthought.

“Oh my fucking god,” Y/N sighs, her hands going to rub over her face and through her hair. “That was exhausting. Jesus Christ.”

“What? She’s nice. Maybe a little clueless,” Harry counters. “But she was so nice,” he confirms again, seemingly trying to convince himself of it as well.

She grabs the slippers and slips them on the ground so Harry can put them on easily. Then one of the blankets that she drapes over Harry’s bottom half. He smiles at the gesture, a ‘thank you’ said in a whisper.

“Please, she knows what she’s doing,” Y/N scoffs, “And she’s obsessed with you!” She grabs the concealer to get back to work, “She was all over you and never took her eyes off of your body. It was like she wanted to touch you or something. It was icky.”

“You touch me,” Harry adds cheekily, adjusting beneath the warm blanket.

She laughs, a smile gracing her lips as she gives Harry a look. He was clever.

“It’s my job to touch you, Harry.”

Harry had really tried to not laugh, but it was just so funny. They both snicker, their eyes meeting for a moment longer than usual.

“Speaking of my job,” she adds after controlling her laughter, “Does she not realize just how long it takes to cover all of your bloody tattoos with this shit to make it look like you’re a pristine skinned 50’s psycho killer?”

She finishes the rose coverup and moves to the ship. Harry nods solemnly.

“It’s true...And it doesn’t help that you’re terrible at it, so it takes a thousand years longer than it should.” He adds, laughter overtaking his serious tone at the end.

“Oh my god!” She shrieks in delight, trying not to mess up her work, “That is so rude! I messed up one time - mostly because of you, by the way. And give me a break, this is so not what I thought I’d be doing as a makeup artist for movies.”

He nods again, muttering “Fair, fair.”

They grow silent, enjoying Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, the album that she had queued after Joni’s.

“The body thing, I just learned to ignore it, I think.” Harry mutters, eventually, but it’s thoughtless, like he’s not revealing anything about himself with the statement. But it kind of shocks her. Her eyes widen and she stops her work to stare at his face.

“Harry,” she waits till his eyes meet hers, “That’s, like, not normal. Are you serious?”

“I mean, I’m very comfortable with my body, like I haven’t minded the last 45 minutes of sitting practically nude in front of you. And I have plenty of revealing photos out in the world. I just don’t notice staring anymore, it’s not, I don’t think it’s what you’re thinking,” he tries to reassure her. His eyes are intent on hers, full of seriousness that hadn’t been there a few moments ago.

“It’s one thing to be comfortable in your skin and another to be desensitized to objectification,” she insists.

He nods. “I know. Thank you. I would let you know if what she had done had bothered me, so don’t worry. I felt completely safe the whole time.”

“Good,” she nods back and concentrates again. “Good,” she repeats once more under her breath. There had been way too many distractions already today and she wasn’t even done with his arm yet.

As she continues to work up his arm, Harry sings along to some of the songs on Elton’s album. He happily taps his feet to the different beats, now safely tucked in soft fluffy slippers. She would never admit just how amazing it is to be in the same room as Harry’s singing. It was truly special to be less than a foot from him and hear him sing just under the unique voice of Elton - who was someone he actually knew, which was equally as cool.

He hit every note and knew every word. She was impressed. How could she not be when a literal rockstar sat before her? This was the first time she was truly starstruck by her charge, Mr. Harry Styles.

By two hours, they had moved onto an album by Dolly Parton and they were both singing. They strangely had no fights today, maybe some snarky comments from both of them, but no outright mean-spirited words were exchanged.

She stood in front of Harry, finishing up the swallows. She had finished both arms and the birds, all she had left was moving down his body. Up next, the butterfly.

“I love this tattoo,” she mumbles, twisting Harry’s standing body to face her and taking her seat again. This left her eye to eye with the butterfly on his stomach.

He makes a surprised face and raises his recently plucked eyebrow at his counterpart. “Oh really?”

“Don’t act so surprised. I told you day one that not all of them are rubbish and honestly they’re all pretty cool. I just was so annoyed that I had gotten tattoo coverage as my job and then I had to go and index them all.” She flicks her eyes up to his sculpted face and sees he’s watching her work. “Plus, I have some butterflies of my own, remember?” She grins.

“Yeah,” he ponders her words, “I don’t think that’d put me in a good mood either.”

He pauses again and she continues to work silently.

“So what’s your excuse for the second day then?”

“You provoked me,” she doesn’t spare him a glance, shrugging like it was the simplest answer in the world.

“Pardon?”

“Let’s not go down this road again, Harry.” She sighs, smoothing over the freshly covered butterfly tattoo. His sternum looked so naked, it was unnerving. Now the ferns.

Harry involuntarily shivered when her fingers traced over the ferns lightly, taking note of the expanse of skin she’d have to cover.

“You’re right,” he agrees, “But agree to disagree on the provocation.”

“Sure,” she says curtly, focusing on his skin and her job.

The expanse of skin that the ferns inhabited was slightly fleshy and especially soft. It bordered where his boxers began and she ignored that part of his body completely. It was of no importance to her and she really had no issue blocking it from her vision, even when it was right in front of her. She finishes one fern with Harry jumping only twice from her cold hands. He couldn’t put his robe on until the makeup had all set for half an hour so he’d have to be cold for possibly another hour still.

She traces the fern that is still visible and Harry shivers. She instinctively shushes him softly and his body quiets. As she works, her hair splays around her shoulders and Harry looks down at her working and doesn’t realize what his hand is doing until it’s too late. His right hand runs over her hair, smoothing it out of her face. It was rarely ever down, so it must have been the novelty of it.

“Sorry, I-” he chokes out when he jerks his hand back.

She sits back, slightly taken aback. Her body flushes just from their positioning and what a hair caress would mean normally in this position, but she’s a professional and she shakes it off.

“It’s fine. We’re even.” She assures him, breaking eye contact with his own wide eyes. “Seems like we’re both hair touchers.”

“It’s just so soothing,” Harry muses. “I think it’s human instinct to touch other people’s hair since it’s so enjoyable for yourself.”

“Possibly,” her voice raises, his thought was definitely plausible. Or maybe they were just two touch starved people who were very much in each other’s personal space 24/7.

At the two and a half hour marker, she gets a walkie message from Olivia’s assistant asking when they’d be done. She had just finished the tiger tattoo, which had been surprisingly easy. It took a while, but Harry didn’t shiver once and neither of them pet each other’s hair.

“Probably 40 minutes, sorry. He has a lot of tattoos and the makeup needs to set.” She says seriously and gets back to work, barely regarding the response of “Yeah it’s fine, just wanted an estimate”.

“Jesus,” Harry moans as she covers up his knee tattoos.

She groans in veiled disgust, “Did I just hit a secret erogenous zone? Is that why you have ‘oui’ there, you creep?” There’s a teasing tone behind the nickname she uses.

Harry laughs and runs his hand over his face, pulling at his jaw and lower lip. His jaw is so sharp, she watches him adjust it. “No, no. I’m just so goddamn tired of this.”

“And it’s not your fault,” he adds, feeling bad immediately after he said it. “It’s actually been nice today, but I’m feeling antsy, like I need to move. I don’t like to sit still.”

“I know,” she says under her breath. She simply nods in agreement.

Finally, the tattoos are all covered up and set. They had talked about George Michael when she got to his ankle tattoos that she hadn’t seen before and they laugh about the tattoos and chat a bit more. She helps him slip on his robe that he keeps in his closet in the trailer and then follows him out of it. They had decided they were hungry and he had been pushed back an hour since he had taken so long, so he had a free half-hour.

As they walked to craft services, they talked about actual things besides work. She was pleasantly surprised by what Harry talked about. It was more than music or the movie. It was the tv show he was currently obsessed with and how he hated LA’s traffic the most out of all of his dislikes for the city. She couldn’t help but grin at his Los Angeles slander. She loved this side of him.

Breakfast together after finishing his tattoo coverage became their regular thing. He would come into the trailer, racing from his morning meeting accompanied with tea for two, they’d get his tattoos covered as quickly as possible, and then they’d eat together.

They’d save their “in-depth” chats for breakfast. In early November, he joked about No Nut November and insisted he really wouldn’t have a problem with it - which had made her laugh. They worried together over the U.S. presidential election and meditated together in his trailer to Fleetwood Mac.

Around late November, Harry had requested that Y/N just do his face makeup as well, just to simplify his life a little more and the department had agreed easily. She had to spend extra time on set getting lectured on how to properly do Harry’s makeup, but after two days she stopped getting notes about it. She was so extremely proud and thankful to Harry for doing that.

All he said was: “I mean, you’re extremely talented so I’m not scared of you fucking up my face. Plus, it does make my life easier. Two birds with one stone.”

In late November, he told her about his favorite holiday drinks at Starbucks and what he was getting his mother for Christmas.

When the Vogue cover came out, he laughed over that woman who responded to his cover saying the world needed to bring back manly men. He joked that he was going to really push that from now on, that he was a manly man, and he would sputter with laughter every time he tried to say it with a straight face.

He hand delivered her a special ‘Treat People With Kindness’ sweatshirt that he only had for the cast and crew of the film. Most everyone got them from a PA, but Harry decided since you saw him first in the morning, why not.

He told her about him winning Hitmaker of the Year from Variety when he had left the award sitting in Trailer 6 and about how weird it was to film acceptance speeches in an empty room. His smile had lit up the entire set that day and the day he did his interview on set. He was so smiley she had to bump him with her elbow because he wouldn’t stop smiling at her and it was unnerving.

“Stop that,” She muttered.

“Stop what?” He smiles wider.

“That!” She squeaked, her head shaking as she ducked it to regard his anchor tattoo. “You’re smiling too much.”

“Oh no,” he says sarcastically, “God forbid I be happy.”

“It’s not that,” she bumps his thigh with her elbow, trying to keep her own smile off her face, “Your face is just so intense when you smile. Feels like you’re gonna burn a hole through me.”

He laughs, completely unconvinced, “You just don’t want me to be happy is what I’m hearing.”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, dude.”

She saw he was serious about the ‘manly men’ references when the Variety photos came out and everyone and their mom posted the pictures with some variation of that comment as their caption.

She still found that she rolled her eyes at some of the things Harry did, but she genuinely counted him as a friend by the time December had rolled around.

Over three hours, almost always completely alone, doing work for a job you both care deeply about can really make or break a relationship. And that first full-body coverage day had made them stronger together. After that, Harry and her would banter with one another, but there was never anything intentionally cruel. Just friends giving each other shit sometimes. Harry had been right, he had changed her mind about him. And she had realized that that was who Harry was. He was a deliverer. If you didn’t like him at first, he would try and try again until you did, but he did it in a way that wasn’t weasley or anything. It was terribly genuine and she saw it in every relationship he had on set.

On several occasions she had witnessed his friendship with Nick Kroll. A man she had regarded with dislike before the film. She had quickly realized that dislike was misplaced, but she maintained that it was just because she hated adult cartoons - citing that she literally refused to be friends with any person who willingly watched the Simpsons, Family Guy, and/or American Dad and all of those similar shows.

Nick was far nicer and less weird than she had realized. So she quickly shot her friend from high school an apology text for all the Nick Kroll slander she had spouted back in the day. Her friend had rejoiced but also said how jealous she was that Y/N got to see him regularly on set.

Nick and Harry got along great. Harry generally got along better with older people, she noticed when she was introduced to his friends on the somewhat frequent occasion. Trailer 6 was where Y/N saw most of these reactions take place. She would be introduced in the first minute and then she would smile politely and get back to the work of covering up Harry’s numerous tattoos.

Harry would say something simple and Nick, the literal famous comedian, would laugh. In the beginning she’d raise a brow, confused because it truly wasn’t that funny, but as Harry’s friend now, she kept her mouth shut.

Nick would come and sit on the couch while she’d work and eventually all three of them would chat. Sometimes she would get up to go to the bathroom during those morning chats and she would look in the mirror and think to herself “How are you casually talking to these two men right now” and then she’d think “Because you are a boss ass bitch, you got this” and go back out there with a smile on her face.

“Y/N, what are you doing tonight?” Nick asked on the first Friday morning of December.

She looks up from Harry’s cross tattoo that was half covered. Harry was reading, a book casually propped in his right hand and glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He glanced at the other two in the room. Nick had been getting some work done before he had spoken.

“No plans,” she states simply before getting back to work. It wasn’t full body today, but it was arms and torso, so kind of a lot still.

“You should come over for dinner at my place with Harry,” Nick smiles kindly. His scruff was really coming in today. “To celebrate us almost wrapping the first half of the movie.”

Harry had thankfully freshly shaved before he sat down. It was her least favorite part of her new job. Whenever he came in for touch ups and she had to shave his afternoon shadow. She was terrified she’d cut him and never live it down from her department or Harry. She had no idea which would be worse.

“My wife will be there too, of course,” he adds, hoping to entice her to say yes.

Harry glances between Y/N and Nick again before focusing on his book again.

She purses her lips, finishing Harry’s hand and moving onto the anchor tattoo. “Yeah, I mean, I don’t know why I’d say no. As long as I’m not intruding on the throuple,” she grins up at Harry.

He stares at her with his big green eyes, slightly obscured behind his prescription glasses. He raises his brows and wiggles them a little bit, teasingly.

Nick laughs and slyly winks at Harry through the mirror. Y/N none the wiser as she removes all traces of Harry’s tattoos.

“Great!” He claps his hands and stands up. “We’ll talk or I’ll make sure Harry gets you the info or something. I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. My wife’s been wanting to meet you,” he smiles again and walks out of the trailer.

She tilts her head at the last part. He talked about her to his wife. Did he really count her as that close of a friend? She was just a makeup artist and he was a producer… She glances at Harry and he gives away nothing. His jaw looks extra prominent and she knows it’s because he’s clenching it. He did that when he was focused or angry, remembering it bulging on the first day they met and how clenched it had been then.

“Unclench your jaw,” she mutters, “It’s not good for you.”

Harry hums and unclenches it.

He stretches his neck by rolling his head around his shoulders and she glances at the movement. His skin is still beautifully sun-kissed and his pores look so soft, only his moles change the texture of his skin. She loves his moles though, they make him especially unique in her eyes. Not that he needed anything else to set him apart from the crowd. Still, she loved them. His collarbone is prominent as he sits there shirtless and she wishes she could reach out and brush at it. But she gets back to work, knowing the only time she’s gonna be brushing near that part of him is when she’s covering dates in those dips behind his collarbones.

“Y’know, I could just drive you to Nick’s tonight,” Harry says, putting his book down and taking off his glasses. He rubs at his eye with his free hand.

“You’re blind and British, how do I know you can even drive yourself?” She asks sillily, pointing to his glasses.

He shakes his head, “I’m serious, Y/N. Aren’t you staying in the same area as me?”

He asks because they had relocated to Palm Springs a little while ago and everyone had gotten rentals and it was hard to remember where everyone was holed up when they weren’t on set.

“Yeah, think so. But you don’t need to pick me up. I have a car.”

“Nonsense. I’ve been to his place before, don’t want you to have to deal with directions, that’s just silly.”

“I guess...” she resigns relatively easily. She had never hung out with Harry off the set or Nick for that matter. It felt surreal, but she knew the right answer was usually just say yes in these situations. So that’s what she says. “Yes, that’d be great, thank you,” she confirms and watches as Harry’s eyes glimmer softly before turning back to his book. A triumphant soft smirk rests on his face.

The words die out between the two of them as she works on. He hums along to the music and continues reading his book. When she’s done with his tattoo coverage and his face makeup, she sends him off to hair and the rest of his day. He gives a flirty wink as he walks out the door and she rolls her eyes in response. She tidies up her kit and then goes to do some other makeup work.

When she wasn’t working with Harry, she was assigned to some of the minor characters and doing their makeup. They were always her second concern, especially now that she did Harry’s makeup as well as his tattoos. As she works on them, she can feel her mind drifting to Harry. Harry and how they were friends now. She was pretty sure, right? They were friends. He had never really said a mean thing to her if she really thought about it. It was her… She had been rude and mean-spirited and he had just taken it. He rarely had even thrown it back at her. He was so good to her and patient and she realized that he had proven to her that he was good. He was better than good, he was kind and loving. Considerate. Wonderful. All of those positive superlatives, Harry filled them. And she had the audacity to be mean to him.

She paused the brush that was adding blush to an actresses cheek.

Lisa, the actress, looks at Y/N confusedly, “What’s wrong?”

Y/N twitches her head, refocusing on her task at hand. The realization of her pausing her work becomes clear as she looks between her hand and the cheek that has not enough blush on it. “Oh,” she breathes. “...I just realized that I was terrible to someone who doesn’t have a mean bone in their body.”

Lisa nods, “Apologize.”

“Yeah, I mean...We’ve kind of moved past the phase where we don’t get along. Like now we’re friends, but the realization just really hit me.” She sighs, picking up where she left off on Lisa’s makeup. “I’ll make sure to apologize next time I see them.”

Lisa smiles.

At the end of the day, Y/N realizes she left her tattoo coverage kit in Harry’s room after their touch-up session halfway through the day. She had run off to help with a makeup emergency for a tiny cut on a minor character’s face and forgotten to go back and grab her things. Another roll of her eyes and a huff of breath and then she’s walking back to Trailer 6, a place that seemed like a home away from home now. She knocks, patiently waiting at the bottom of the steps.

Harry swings open the door and props it with his hip. He’s got a toothbrush held in his mouth, slowly scrubbing back and forth with his left hand. His costume is somewhat taken off, he’s still got the pants on with suspenders hanging down, his chest was completely bare and he looked funny with some of his tattoos only being half covered based on what parts of his skin had been showing today. Her work. His skin looked half silky smooth and half tattooed like usual.

His naked skin seemingly left her breathless because as her eyes returned to Harry’s face, she breathed a soft, “Hi.”

“Hey,” a smirk twists onto his face. “Forget something?”

“Yes,” she nods, coming back to her senses and entering the trailer at Harry’s gesture.

She begins to pack up the kit that had been left haphazardly strewn around on his counter. “I’m sorry I left a mess like this, I got called over to something else and forgot.”

“Don’t worry darling,” Harry grins at his joke.

She looks up from her work and sees Harry in the reflection of the mirror. He’s wiping off the makeup from his chest and his beautiful tattoos reemerge as entire images.

She laughs humorlessly, “It gets less funny each time you use that.”

“That’s not true,” he looks at her through the mirror now, his green eyes trained on her face, “Everyone else still thinks it’s hilarious.”

“They’re humoring you and your fragile ego,” she winks and watches as Harry’s smirk twitches from his perfect face.

“You’ve got a very mean disposition, you know that?” He asks.

He finishes his chest and moves to remove the makeup from his left arm, glancing at the mirror every so often to check himself and to flicker his eyes over Y/N’s face.

She genuinely laughs at that, but scolds herself internally for being mean when she had planned to apologize the next time she saw Harry. This was the next time so why was she doing this instead?

“Rewrite sweet disposition for me?” Her voice honeyed. Clearly stubborn and terrible at saying sorry...maybe her and Harry were a better match than she realized.

Harry twists his lips as he slips on his t-shirt he was wearing today.

“Pick you up at 6:30?” He says as his head pops out from beneath the rainbow striped sweatshirt he slipped on top of the shirt. His chestnut hair had been toweled out and was flopping over his forehead slightly.

She sighs and zips close the kit, standing from the seat she had taken at his counter and turning to face him now.

“6:30 is perfect. Thanks again for doing this. I just can’t believe Nick Kroll is inviting me over for dinner!” She smiles, shifting to lean against the counter as she waits for Harry to finish up. She didn’t have to but for some reason she felt like she was in no rush.

“Are you serious?” He’s moved on to changing his pants now and he’s slipping on black sweatpants.

“Yeah…” She blinks and her eyes widen as Harry appraises her expression.

He straightens up after fixing a cuff on the pants and he can’t tell if she’s being genuine or sarcastic. It was always so hard to tell with her.

“I mean, Nick Kroll is like a huge celebrity and I know in the entertainment business you’re not supposed to get starstruck but when I was in college my sister thought he was weirdly hot and my friends and I would shit talk him. I don’t know, it’s just kind of surreal to be having dinner at his place. Like I’ve watched him on tv and now I’ll be eating with him...so weird.”

He shakes his head, beginning on his dirty vans now. A small laugh escapes his mouth and he glances between her and his shoe, scratching his head quickly. “I still can’t tell… It feels like you’re fucking with me right now.”

“I’m not!” She insists, her hands coming out in front of her in a confused fashion. “I used to watch that guy’s tv show then he’s my boss now he’s inviting me over for food? It’s a lot to process.”

“How come it’s not surreal to be having dinner with me then?” He asks semi-joking, a hint of offense tinged within it. It’s visible only in his knitted brow and twisted lip.

“Careful there, sailor. Venturing into some dangerously self-absorbed waters.” Her eyes light up, a quick raise of her brows accompany the shine, and she decides now is her time to head out. Especially as she thinks about getting ready for this soiree tonight. She needed to shower and pick out an outfit with less than two hours to prepare.

Harry sputters at her response and fumbles with his pink shoelace. “That’s not...that is - You’re being unfair. My question is valid.”

She shrugs her shoulders and skirts Harry’s attempt at grabbing at her arm to stop her from leaving. “Okay, Mr. Big Man On Campus. I promise you you’re the most popular boy in school.”

She blows him a kiss and walks out the door as he attempts to get her to come back by calling her name a few times and slightly shouting “C’mon! I wasn’t being insecure. That was a reasonable ask…”

He sighs and shakes his head again. Every interaction would end with one of them either rolling their eyes or shaking their head and usually a sigh on both of their lips. It was exhausting, but exhilarating too.

20 minutes later, Harry receives a text from Y/N: “You’re still picking me up right :))) ?”

He’s in his car, getting ready to finally leave after getting held up with last minute schedule changes that he had to be informed about by some PA that he had forgotten the name of. His lip quirks to the right and he closes his eyes for a second enjoying seeing her name on his phone screen for a moment.

He types back: “Of courseeee”.

“Fab.” She sends back, immediately followed by: “Fanks BMOC ;)”

A full smile rolls onto Harry’s face after he swipes his tongue over his lower lip. “Yeah, yeah, save it for the next guy” he types out quickly before throwing his phone gently beside him and driving back to his apartment. She made him feel young, not that he wasn’t young, but generally his friends didn’t text like she did.

At 6:28, she receives a text from Harry Styles - his name in her phone. A name she had never expected to see in her phone unless her Spotify was on shuffle. Yet, instead, his name popped up under messages and it read “Here!” followed by a quick “I think” and then a phone call coming through from the apparently anxious man himself.

“Hello Harry.” Her tone even. She throws little items into her purse, making sure everything she needs is there.

“Could you peek out your window? I’m not quite sure I’m at the right place and people are staring…” nerves laced in his rushed tone.

She ambles to the window and opens up the shade she had closed to change. Below her, she sees a sleek black Range Rover with a slightly disarrayed hairdo and big dark glasses peeking below the windshield. She ignored the instinct to retch at the sight of the Range Rover and peered at the lamp lit sight below her. It was definitely Harry, but she searched for the prying eyes he was worried about and saw none. Well, maybe a few, but it wasn’t a lot.

“I see you, I’ll be right out, dude. Just deep breaths, it’s mostly crew staying here right now so they’re just seeing that it’s you, another guy they work with. They won’t come up for pictures...I would hope.”

She hangs up with no farewell, snatches her purse from its place on the bed and races out the door. Harry smiles anxiously at her when she stands next to the passenger’s door and he unlocks it. She bites her lip and raises her brows, waiting to hear if anything terrible happened in the minute and a half it took her to come downstairs and out to the car.

“Hi,” he exhales.

A smirk crawls onto her features and her eyes sparkle with a bit of a childish glee that normally she didn’t exhibit as she glances at him. “Hi.” She says quietly. “Alright big boy?”

“‘M fine.” He huffs but balks at her smile that she maintains while she stares at him. “What?”

“Just happy to see you, I guess,” her smile returns after speaking and Harry glances between her face and the windshield in front of him.

He can’t tell if she’s being serious or not once again. But he fears that conversation of her either ridiculing him for thinking she is serious or being offended that he still can’t tell. Instead, he will keep his mouth shut. For the most part.

“Happy to see you, too,” his lips create a closed mouth smile quickly before turning out of the parking lot.

She watches him. Their first time together outside of work. And they were friends. She needed to get used to simply thinking that. He picked her up to take her to dinner with her other friend and his wife. This was normal life, just with big names behind those terms of relation. Jesus, she always said it didn’t bother her to be around celebrities so why did she think about it so damn much?

She twitches her head and refocuses on Harry and his driving. His jaw is clenched again and she wants to reach out and sooth it herself. Instead she starts to open her mouth to correct him, but stops herself from that as well. They weren’t at work and it didn’t feel like something just a friend would say right now. She refocuses on the view of his eyes that are barely visible while he regards the road. His large eyes that she had grown acquainted to are surveying what he’s doing, every so often drifting to the right side of the road to check out the lane beside him. But then, always back to right in front of him, leaving a crescent of green visible to her.

“Can feel you staring at me…” His voice sounds like it’s rolled around in gravel after the long work day. It makes her wonder if he’s supposed to have a vocal rest when he’s not at work, but then again it’s the weekend now so maybe it was fine. Maybe she should ask him. Or maybe she should stop worrying so much about him.

“Have I got something on my face?” His low register bumps her from her racing thoughts. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but she can see he’s widened his eyes in wonder.

“No! Of course not, I just was...making sure you weren’t going to crash us or something.” She grasps at straws, desperate to not be caught by Harry.

A low chuckle bubbles from his chest and he spares a small glance over at her bundled up in his passenger seat. She matches his gaze with something of distrust hidden behind her eyes. She hopes to convey that she’s being silly and when Harry turns back to look at the road unassumingly, she feels like she has won. The harmonies of the beginning of a Queen song take over the silence, Harry’s spindly fingers thrumming against the wheel.

They arrive at the Kroll’s Palm Springs residence at 6:50. 10 minutes early and the two twiddle their thumbs for a few minutes, trying to pass the time and not intrude earlier than they were supposed to. She appreciated that Harry liked to be timely but not early, similar to how she was.

“So what is the fascination with Range Rovers?” She queries, leaning against the door’s armrest. The back of her head touches against the semi-tinted window.

Harry shifts in his seat, seat belt no longer constricting him and no road requiring his attention as they sit in the driveway. He rushes a hand through his hair and lets a single strand of hair fall over his prominent forehead.

“Dunno,” he shrugs his shoulders and allows a hand to fall onto the steering wheel absentmindedly. “I don’t really prefer them anymore, but when I’m in LA and doing work, it makes things easier. My other cars are a little flashier...have more privacy in this.”

“Yet the effect is similar,” she muses.

Her head tilts to take in Harry’s appearance, sharp black silky button-up and dark green plaid slacks, and she rubs a hand over her jaw. His eyes flicker to the movement and attempt to really take it in, even in the dim glow of the lamp light outside barely peeking into the dark interior of the car.

“Effect?”

“Y’know…” She arches her brow at him. He feigns innocence or possibly the expression is genuine. She’s begun to realize Harry was as genuine as they came, but she just didn’t think he was that unaware. An assumption that was likely correct, but even Harry liked to pretend he was a completely unassuming individual.

“Forget it,” she finishes when he gives no indication that he knows what she is hinting at. She doesn’t want to get into it with him again. Especially when he plays at this game where he has no idea what she’s talking about. It made her feel like she was crazy for thinking he made these calculated decisions to get his desired outcomes.

They move on, neither of them quite sure what the other was getting at in that conversation. The two of them walk into the house a minute before their expected arrival time side by side and are greeted happily with Nick and his wife. They’re ushered in and Y/N is happily received by the happy couple.

“So, Y/N, how’s it been for you working with these two? I know they can be more than a handful - especially together,” Nick’s wife, Lily, asks after a sip of wine.

The group of four had been eating for a while with Nick and Harry bantering for quite a bit at the beginning about whether or not Harry would be willing to hand feed Nick. The answer was settled at “another time”.

Harry seems to have a very specific habit of watching whoever is speaking - no matter what. So after Lily has finished speaking, his gaze flickers to Y/N, the person his brain expects to speak next. He watches her attentively as she wipes her mouth on her napkin before speaking.

Her hair was styled differently tonight than it usually was on set, she had it down rather than up in a ponytail or braids. He hadn’t had time to really look at her when they had been in the car, his mind occupied with stress and exhaustion that he refocused into driving and deep breathing. Now, in the comfort of a trusted friend’s home, he was far more relaxed and able to truly take in her appearance, which he couldn’t help but think was beautiful. He’d have to tell her that at some point. That he thought she was beautiful. Not that he didn’t see her on set and think she was beautiful...he just hadn’t really thought about it before. She was his wily makeup artist who was critical of him most times, but occasionally sweet, who had an amazing taste in music and good aesthetic style. The beauty part of it all, he guessed wasn’t something integral to their relationship before.

But now he was sitting beside her at the Kroll’s nice dining table and she had her hair splayed in front and behind her shoulders with one side tucked behind her ear and her outfit fit her impeccably. The top she had on had capped sleeves that cinched with buttons at her delicate wrists and a severe drop to create a small sweetheart neckline just above the curve of her breasts. It was silky and shiny, a blush pink that complemented the high waisted dark grey slacks that flared over shiny black boots that he wasn’t sure where they ended beneath the pants.

“Well,” she starts, chuckling under her breath when she meets Harry’s stare, “Harry and I spend a lot of time together, covering up all his tattoos, and he yaps a lot. So, it’s actually pretty refreshing when Nick comes in, because Harry’s then talking half the normal amount.”

He huffs a scoff, while Lily and Nick laugh happily. Nick interjects an “ouch” for the bite she just took out of Harry, but she thought it was fine, he can take it.

Harry thought to himself that if she can serve it, then she can definitely take it. His eyes remain on her as he opens his mouth to speak, but then look at Lily when words actually come out. “Well, Y/N, she thinks she can read people really well, but it’s actually quite the opposite. She had me completely wrong when we first met, so I talk now in hopes that she’ll really understand me.”

His head tilts to her when he mentions her name, but otherwise doesn’t glance her way away again. He scrunches his nose at the end of his comment, implying he converses with her out of pity.

It’s her turn to scoff and stare at him unamused. Nick and Lily share a look, unsure of what was going on, they had concocted this dinner date idea in hopes to set the two up but the way this conversation was going, they seemed to be pushing each other further and further away from one another.

“That’s simply not true,” she says curtly and takes a sip of her quickly emptying wine glass.

“Which part?”

“Almost all of it, I’d say,” her eyes glaring back at him, fiery with a disdain he hadn’t seen in awhile. “You’re proving my original perception of you with every passing second,” she adds.

“Care to elaborate exactly what the original perception of me was for the class,” his eyes are wide and wild, any extra adoration he had started to feel towards her slipping away just as quickly as it had come, like a wave along the beach.

“You know, so why don’t you?”

“I want to hear you say it,” he grits out the command.

She shifts in her seat, glancing at Nick and Lily who are watching on and she has a feeling she won’t be getting an invitation again anytime soon. Lily gives her a semi-reassuring smile like she was sorry to have asked the question at all, but Y/N knows this is kind of her fault, not that she would ever admit that. Her comment could have been taken innocuously, but Harry’s pride wouldn’t let it slide. Like she said, she should have known better, the weeks of friendship were flying out the window and she was helping them along.

“And what if I don’t?”

“Have fun calling an uber at this time of night,” he shrugs, malice dripping in his tone.

She truly was taken aback at this. A slight sound of shock leaving her mouth. Harry was many things, impatient and anxious usually, but downright cruel with her, she had yet to see it. Arrogant and pompous, definitely, but this wickedness that was starting to creep from the shadows worried her. But the little fiery demon within her wasn’t going anywhere either - yet she might back down to save herself some money and hassle.

“Fine,” she raises her brows in a challenge to him and restates her original take on him - possibly adding a bit extra malice in her phrasing, “You are a shell of a man, held up by the people around you, creating the illusion of a completely genuine and down to earth rocker who dabbles in acting, philanthropy and all around goodness. No one’s ever had a bad experience because no one’s ever truly met you. Not the real you.” She takes a deep breath as she shakes her head in disbelief now, a sarcastic laugh leaving her mouth, “And I thought, I really thought, that I had been wrong. Because these past months you really fooled me with your sweet smile and deep eyes. But when it comes down to it, you tricked me just like everyone else.”

Harry stares at her blankly and she shakes her head once more, feeling foolish. For thinking Harry was someone he wasn’t. For thinking the past few months had been real. For thinking that tonight would go off without a hitch. And the shit part of it was that she had really hoped that all of it was true. She wanted this to be her life, but her instincts had been right. Beware of the picture perfect because it always is just a mirage of deceit and lies.

“All I’ve got to say is you’re a damn good actor Harry, so at least you’ve got that going for you.” Then she pushes back from the table and stands, turning to Nick and Lily. “I really am so sorry, I understand that you probably want me to leave, so I’ll just be going,” her voice faltering at the end, she wasn’t as strong as she liked to pretend and she was pretty sure she just ruined her chances of working again in Hollywood. You’d have to be an idiot to be an enemy of Harry Styles and she feels like she just became his first.

“No!” Nick says quickly, standing too, “I think things just escalated really quickly and some things were said that both of you didn’t mean. Um...just, let’s take a few minutes to cool off. Harry could you and Lily deal with the dishes and I’m going to talk with Y/N alone.”

Everyone nods and Y/N follows Nick down a hallway, a little confused but following after he beckons her with his hand. They go out a side door and end up on a porch in the backyard. He stoops down and opens a little sitting mailbox she didn’t see and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He places one between his teeth and then offers one to her. She accepts, not usually a regular smoker, but right now seemed like a fair time to indulge in the bad habit. She needed to calm her rapidly beating heart.

He lights the cigarette for her when he sees her shaking hands and then in turn lights his own. They stand on the porch beside each other and stare out into the dark night sky.

“Well, this wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go,” Nick starts, after a few exhales of smoke.

“No,” she laughs nervously, her foot toeing at the wooden slate on the porch. “I shouldn’t have tried to make a joke.”

“No one’s to blame,” Nick says quickly, glancing at her, “You and Harry...you both have really strong personalities and I don’t think either of you are used to being challenged.”

She nods along, she definitely had to agree after the argument they had both willingly gotten into in front of other people.

“I think that can be a really good thing, challenging each other, because then you two can both grow. But what happened in there was more of a battle to the death rather than a friendly spar.”

“Yeah,” she exhales, flicking at the burning cigarette between her fingers, “I don’t know why he gets under my skin sometimes in a way I’ve never dealt with and it’s kind of uncomfortable so I lash out, I guess.”

Nick stays quiet, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Ugh,” she groans, “I wish I hadn’t done that. We were doing so well, it’s like I don’t even really know what I’m saying, it’s like I can’t handle a friendly spar, I always end up going in for the kill - as you put it.”

She rubs at her face with her free hand and then takes a drag herself. Nick bites at his lower lip, trying to think of a solution.

“Y’know? Lily and I had concocted this plan to try and set you and Harry up tonight,” he says slowly, revealing the plan that had clearly been taken off the table as they just needed to attempt to salvage cordiality.

“Really?!” She’s in complete disbelief and slight dismay that the plan was seemingly ruined.

“Well,” he sputters, “When the two of you aren’t throwing verbal fireballs at each other, you’re actually quite sweet to one another. Those fond little glances you hope no one sees, well he does that too, and you both fail miserably because I see it all the time. I’m sure plenty of people do too.”

“Oh,” she states, visibly deflating. She looks to the ashtray conveniently on a table behind her and presses out the rest of the cigarette. “Should probably talk to him, huh?”

Nick nods, stamping out his nub of a cigarette as well. They go back inside and into the kitchen where Lily and Harry have plated dessert. Harry looks a little sheepish, likely having a similar conversation with Lily and she wouldn’t be surprised if her expression looks similar, if not a bit more flushed from the outdoor chill.

Lily murmurs that she and Nick are going to eat their dessert in the living room, a fair bit away from the kitchen and the two now deflated counterparts nod and then stare at each other, knowing what they need to do.

“Can we talk?” Harry rasps out, his voice even lower as he speaks softly, a mere foot away from her in the kitchen.

She nods, but moves further from him to lean against the counter and tuck her hands behind her. She’s lost her appetite and doesn’t want Harry to see her shaking digits.

He’s ducked his head and a stray curl falls over his forehead, laying there softly. He doesn’t move to fix it, just stares at his feet until she begins to talk. He can’t not look at her face when she speaks.

“So…” She slowly starts, not enjoying the tension in the room. Her eyes can’t meet his though, his stare dark and unnerving like usual, but almost painfully so now. “I can start.” She kicks at the tiling on the floor like she had done outside as well, trying to not think about the eyes trained on her right now. “I’m sorry I lashed out on you, Harry. I didn’t mean what I said, it was just a heat of the moment response.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Harry says immediately once she finishes speaking, “I shouldn’t have gotten upset over a silly joke and brought up a sensitive subject. Then it escalated…”

“Yeah, I really liked the friendship we’ve garnered these past few months and I just can’t believe I almost ruined everything - including my career…” she squeaks at the end and tears start to roll from her eyes. “Oh god,” she is hit with the gravity of all that she almost ruined as Harry stares at her again. “I’m so sorry, Harry, I really am. Do you forgive me? I don’t think I could stand it if you didn’t.”

She stands there and feels sobs wrack through her and her hands go to cover her face out of embarrassment. She had caused a scene and now she was making another one. In front of Harry.

In an instant his arms are wrapped around her frame and he’s hushing her cries. They had never hugged before, but now seemed like as good a time as ever. His arms were strong around her and she pressed her face into his chest, not caring at all about how she looked or whether this was worse than getting in a fight and running off.

“Of course I forgive you,” he says and then begins repeating her name over and over, trying to soothe her. He definitely had been hurt by her words, but it seemed like she was more upset about the whole situation than he was and he didn’t think bringing up what specifically had hurt him would help her frame of mind.

She settles after some time, her whimpers and tears subsiding after being rocked into a more peaceful mindset with the help of Harry’s calming voice and reassuring embrace.

“I really am sorry,” she whispers again.

Harry pulls his neck back and his head off the top of her head to look at her face. It was tear stained and her eyes were glassy, lips slightly puffy. He gave her a soft tight-lipped smile. “No more apologies,” he states sternly and then softens again at the slight quiver in her lip. He pulls from her a little more, leaving her at arm's length, with his hands still attached to her hips, fingers slipping over the plaid fabric. “I meant to tell you this earlier, before things…” he stares at her face again and she holds it this time, “You look beautiful tonight.”

She scoffs and her eyes immediately drop to her feet, “Definitely not anymore.” She doesn’t believe Harry.

“‘M serious,” he insists. His right index finger goes to rest beneath her chin and brings her face up to look back at him.

“Sure,” she says, still not convinced but not sure how else to respond. She feels herself warming at all the positive attention he’s pouring into her.

His gaze won’t falter from her face, he’s intent upon making her understand him. He whispers her name, “Accept the compliment.”

“You’re stubborn,” she notes.

“So are you,” he counters quickly.

“Fine, thank you,” she sighs when he won’t stop giving her that look of his. That look that makes her want to melt into the ground because it feels like she’s the only person in the world. “Though you looked especially good tonight, too,” she adds, her hands rubbing over his shoulders softly.

“Thank you,” Harry states lowly, the words only traveling to her ears. His hands fiddle with the sides of her top, thinking about the night and where they were now. Her eyes were red from crying and overall she looked tired beyond her years. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“That’d be nice.”

They make a quiet farewell to Nick and Lily, as well as apologies from both her and Harry. They don’t speak in the car and the music plays loud enough for it to not seem unreasonable for them to be silent. Harry’s hands don’t tap against the steering wheel, they sit in their spots stoically doing their job and nothing more. She watches the window, legs crossed and hands clasped in her lap. She’s thankful for the music because she knows that even though they had talked, it wasn’t enough. What she had said was hurtful and one apology wasn’t enough for how she had behaved. She didn’t think her and Harry would be the same after tonight, but the silence made it possible for her to pretend none of it had happened.

Just as Harry’s car is pulling up the apartment complex that is far darker now, the harsh splatter of rain begins to fall on the pavement and the sleek black car the two are still sat in.

“Oh,” she comments offhandedly, just responding to what she had noticed.

The rain grows louder when Harry parks and then turns off the car. He glances at her for the first time since they got into the car. She registers the look out of the corner of her eye, her face still looking out at the rain. She loved the rain, but there wasn’t always a lot in Southern California, especially not in Palm Springs. It seemed that tonight was different.

“Well,” Harry breaks his silence, she thinks that’s her cue to leave and unbuckles her seatbelt, but he continues. “This certainly wasn’t how I expected this night to go.”

She stops moving, her hand hovering over the handle of the door. She sits back and settles into the seat, feeling her teeth bite into the plush of her bottom lip.

“That’s what people keep saying,” her eyes remain on the rain hitting the front of the car, the splatters of seemingly black liquid that form when the clear rain touches the onyx hood of the car.

“Huh?” Harry grows perplexed at the rather wistful tone of her and how she won’t look at him again. He was still hurt, but he had hoped them talking in the kitchen had straightened some things out. During the car ride he hadn’t wanted to talk, but it didn’t mean he was still angry with her. Just confused, and growing further confused by the second.

“Oh,” she repeats, “Didn’t Lily say? Her and Nick concocted that dinner in hopes to set us up.”

Harry hums, knowing that because Nick had left out a little part of that plan. That he had been a part of it. He had been talking with Nick about getting to know her better outside of work and how Nick had thought it’d be a good idea to have dinner so he had told Lily and they set it up like a casual dinner party. Harry didn’t know how to respond because her knowing that he was in on the plan might just make matters worse. He really didn’t think things could get much worse, but it seemed that they always managed to make it happen so in the end he decided to keep his mouth shut.

“I don’t know if we’d ever be able to work out differences out for that,” she decides to continue, when Harry stays quiet. She scans the interior of the car and watches Harry for the briefest moment before going back to looking out the window. “Nick said that we challenge each other to grow, but all I see us do is hurt each other.”

Her voice is just above the rain pattering outside the car and Harry thinks it sounds almost melodic if it weren’t for the sadness laced in every word.

“I disagree,” he states before wetting his lips.

“Of course you do,” she laughs in spite of herself.

“Even after all these months together and you still don’t get it. I like you.”

“You don’t like me, I don’t know how you could ever like me,” she shakes her head. “We just...we get under each other’s skin. You can make me so angry sometimes and I know I make you angry too. And when we’re not angry, we’re focussed on something that doesn’t have to do with ourselves.”

“I don’t think what you feel for me is anger,” Harry insists, “Just because something feels burning and fiery, frustrating even, doesn’t mean it’s anger.”

His body shifts closer to the center divide and she turns to face him finally. His eyes are extra dark in this lighting, which is barely there from a streetlamp a ways off. She longs for the comfort of his light green eyes, the soft pale glow of the moss that seems to have been trapped within his iris. Maybe for that reason she unknowingly leans closer to him.

“Then what is it?” She whispers, eyes blinking slowly as her breathing grows strained.

“Passion.”

Immediately, her head is tilting to meet his lips. Her mind knows one thing, she needs to be kissing Harry right now. And then she is. His left hand goes to cup her cheek as his lips attach themselves to hers. His soft lips press to hers in a long searing kiss. They stay there for a moment, pressing all of that passion and frustration into the kiss.

She presses impatiently forward, her lips starting to move more, wanting to kiss him deeper. Harry obliges, parting his lips and kissing her more vigorously. He licks into her open mouth and smiles at the sound she makes in appreciation for his actions.

She’s shifted to have herself kneeling on the leather seat and she’s leaning over the console. One of her hands finds purchase on Harry’s thigh and grasps tightly, her other at the back of his neck, pressing him closer if it were possible.

His chest is pressing against hers as he pulls her closer. He kisses her and his fingertips rub softly at the apple of her cheek. Eventually they run behind the shell of her ear and trail down her neck.

Eventually, she pulls away and stares at Harry. She watches as his eyes flutter open gently. His soft eyelashes dust his cheeks before moving away, allowing his eyes to peer at her in the dark.

Her breathing feels a little irregular after the kissing and she’s sure she is heaving her chest slightly, likely mirroring Harry’s chest as well.

“So, where to now?” She inquires, lips quirked up at her suggestion.

Harry giggles and scratches his nose against his index finger.

Harry doesn’t stay the night, he walks her up to her apartment door though. He kisses her chastley in front of her door and wraps an arm around her waist as he does so. He bids her a goodnight and a promise of seeing her soon.

They don’t see each other for a month. Both of them had been so blissful after the endorphins of kissing their person that they had forgotten that filming had wrapped. They weren’t set to work for a month. Harry texted her the next morning informing her that he’d be in England until filming resumed. She was still going to be in California, filming was moving back to Los Angeles, so she’d be back in her place there. Her family knew she was working, so they had sent her presents ahead to her place instead. Angie, her only true friend in the area, was spending her time with her actual family and Y/N didn’t want to intrude.

So the holidays were going to be spent alone. Those four weeks alone passed surprisingly quickly. She practiced techniques on herself, bought a tiny Christmas tree like the one in A Charlie Brown Christmas, watched A Charlie Brown Christmas and just about every other holiday movie possible. She fell in love with young Hugh Grant and Colin Firth for the thousandth time. She sang carols to herself and decorated her place with decorations from Target. She jammed out to the new Miley Cyrus album and held dance parties for herself in the house. She baked cookies and even attempted a trifle after watching a Great British Bake Off episode. She did and she did all in hopes that her mind wouldn’t wander to the guy who hadn’t called.

Harry texted occasionally, but it was infrequent at best. He was a busy person, she knew that. She knew who he was. And she didn’t want her mind to have enough time to feel sorry for herself. For her to think that she was just somebody to pass the time with while at work, because if she stopped doing things that’s where her mind would wander. Why did her mind spiral like it did? She had no idea, she’d always been like that.

His absence, their separation, made her question if her own feelings were even true. She wondered if when she saw him he would act as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t said their relationship was passionate and she had kissed him until she couldn’t breath.

Too much time alone, she needed some fresh air. On January 2nd, after an uneventful night at home and a lackluster countdown washed down with cheap champagne, she decided to go and walk around near her place. There was a coffee shop that wasn’t extremely expensive that she also liked that she figured she would get coffee from. After a brisk walk, she walked through the store's doors and ordered an iced green tea. As she waited, she watched the other customers around her, wishing to see a friendly face, someone she knew. And seconds later, she was met with half of that wish. Someone she knew, not necessarily a friendly face.

“Autumn.” She states with a grimace when someone taps her on the shoulder and she spins around.

“Y/N? It is you!” Autumn, one of the PA’s from Don’t Worry Darling who was especially in Harry’s business, exclaims overly happy as per usual.

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek and gives a tight lipped smile, trying her best to be cordial.

“How’s your holiday been!” Autumn asks.

“Great. You?”

“So great!” She’s quick to lean closer and say in a hushed tone, “But I miss working on set, especially getting to see that Harry everyday. He’s just so gorgeous.”

A breath gets stuck in Y/N’s chest at the mention of Harry’s name. Her brows can’t help but raise a bit at Autumn’s comment. Even lowering her voice didn’t make it feel alright to talk about Harry like this. He was her friend after all.

“Sure.” Y/N nods abruptly, realizing Autumn wants some recognition of what she’s just said. Y/N’s eyes glance around the room, hoping for an out like her drink is ready or something - no such luck.

“I mean,” Autumn keeps talking, of course, “You’re so lucky. You get to see him shirtless, like what? Everyday practically? Don’t tell me you don’t miss that just a little bit!”

“I miss working,” Y/N says, avoiding what Autumn is trying to get her to say. “And Harry’s my friend, could you maybe not talk about him like that with me?”

Autumn’s eyes widened in shock, her lips parted dumbfounded by her co-worker's response. Y/N’s name is called for her drink and she’s thankful for the serendipitous nature of that sound getting her out of the awkward situation she had just been in.

When she gets back to her apartment, she surprisingly has a text from Harry himself. She’s always telling everyone; speak of the devil and he will appear, in one way or another. It’s a Happy New Year well wish followed by a separate text asking how she was.

It was sent a minute ago so she decides to try and give him a call. She preferred talking on the phone over texting.

It rings a few times and then, again surprisingly, he picks up.

“‘Lo?” His voice is nice and deep and sounding extra British after his weeks surrounded by family and such.

“Harry,” she sighs contentedly.

“Happy to hear your voice,” he says her name and she can tell he’s smiling just like she is, from ear to ear.

She bites at her lip, hearing him say her name.

“I’m well, thanks,” she says after a moment of happy silence.

“What?” Harry laughs, confused.

“You texted asking me how I was and I called to respond.”

“Got it,” Harry chuckles, and she hears him shuffling around, likely sitting down on something.

“How are you?” She continues.

“Good, starting to wind down for the day,” he lists off the things he’s been doing over the past few days. Some of it work related, some of it family activities. All of it fun, he insists. “What did you do today?” He finishes, knowing she was an avid activity doer based off of the snaps she had sent him over the past few weeks.

“Tidied my place, went to the coffee shop and got iced tea…” she tries to think and then she gasps, “Oh! And I saw Autumn, one of the Don’t Worry Darling PA’s -”

“The one who’s obsessed with me?”

“Exactly!” She laughs, “And I may have kind of told her off… accidentally.”

“Accidentally told her off?” Harry repeats, incredulous. “How’d you do that?”

“Well,” she doesn’t want to tell him the rest, but there’s also a tiny part of her that really does, “She was gushing about you, which, ew. And then she asked if I missed seeing you shirtless everyday.”

“Well do you miss seeing me shirtless?” Harry smirks.

“Oh shut up!” She’s quick to reply.

“So you do?”

“If I really wanted to see you shirtless, all I’d have to do is type in “Harry Styles sh” and it would come up,” she rolls her eyes even though she knows he can’t see them. “Wouldn’t even need the whole word. Guaranteed.”

“Uh-huh?” Harry questions still, “If you want me to send you shirtless pictures that the rest of the world hasn’t seen, Y/N, all you have to do is ask.”

“I do not want you to send me shirtless pictures of yourself!” She exclaims. She feels like jumping out of a window right now. This conversation had escalated so quickly and she felt herself flushing, maybe even perspiring a little bit. And she also knew that she also would probably like it if he sent her shirtless pictures, which made this whole thing worse.

“Offer stands,” he says, smug as he normally was, happy he got to banter with her again. It had been dull without her, if he was honest with himself. “If you ever find yourself in need, just send a cheeky text and I’ll whip one out for you, no matter where I am or what I’m doing.”

“See this sounds like you’re saying something sincere, but really you’re just telling me you’ll send me nudes at any time.”

“No one said anything about nudes!”

“Shirtless, nude, sounds like you’re getting too caught up in the details, hon.”

“No!” He protests, “You’re the one who’s supposed to be flustered right now, not me!”

“Aww, you’re flustered,” She coos.

Harry groans. “Whatever. I’ll be back on the 8th, be ready to go out on the 9th. I’m taking you on a proper date.”

“How do you know I’m going to say yes?” She bite her lip again, she’s really sweating now. She couldn’t believe he had just asked her out on a date out of nowhere. Out of them just joking about nudes. Maybe she didn’t know Harry as well as she thought.

“Because you called me,” he says confidently.

“I call everyone.”

“But I don’t offer shirtless pictures to everyone.”

“That has nothing to do with me saying yes to this date.”

“Or does it?”

She laughs at his words, at how his voice still manages to convey every facial expression and quirk of his lips. She knows there’s a smile on his lips as he stares in the distance, imagining her face just as she is his.

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Yes!” He repeats happily.

She hears him stand up and spin around possibly and she chuckles slightly, amused at the silly man across the world who had seemed to have stolen her heart.

“See you soon, Harry.”

“Not soon enough.”

On the Saturday of their date, Harry insists on picking her up. He meets her at her door and winks at her after pulling away from their short hug. He laces his hand in hers and she follows behind him as he all but drags her to his car that is downstairs. He seems giddy. His hair has grown out in the month he’s been gone and she knows they’ll cut it when filming resumes. He’s wearing Gucci flared blue jeans - she knows from the big logo on the bottom left pant leg - a ‘Waiting for Sunset’ graphic tee beneath a black cardigan with little animals and items knitted in it. And of course, his dirty ass vans. She had hoped that maybe Christmas would bring him a fresh pair from someone, but it seemed there was no such luck.

Either way, he looked good and upon scanning his outfit, she was pleased that she had dressed correctly for the occasion, knowing one of the sins of Los Angeles was being improperly dressed wherever you might go. Harry had said casual, but casual can always mean so many different things. She got it right with light wash high-waisted levi’s, a brown cream rib-knit long sleeve that buttoned like it could be a cardigan, and some fun chunky boots that added some height to her normal stature. She had contemplated between this and possibly twenty other tops and a few other bottoms. Landing on this felt right, plus it didn’t clash with Harry, the color of her shoes actually matched the color of the snake on the cardigan.

They both compliment each other on the way out to his car and she giggles when he stops and twirls her around. He says he didn’t get a “proper look” before for him to compliment her adequately. After the twirl, he nods and starts them off again, complimenting the specific pieces of her clothes and says she looks beautiful again. His giddiness was contagious.

“No Range tonight,” she muses when Harry stops them in front of a Mercedes-Benz cream convertible, top up.

“Not working,” he replies, unlocking the car with the key into the passenger’s side door handle.

She smiles and slides into the car and watches him jog around to his side and unlock it as well.

“Tonight is going to be fantastic,” he says, leaning over the console and kissing her cheek, just beside her lips.

And when he pulls away with that smug smile of his, she knows he kissed her there on purpose. But the little tease only makes her smile more. He was good at this. And he was right.

The night was fantastic. As was every night after. And she learned that Harry was so much more than anything she ever thought. She counted herself lucky to be loved by a man like him.

#harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #enemies to lovers #dwd!harry #idk I always feel like theres more I need to put in here but idk #pls leave feedback and reblog

2K notes · View notes

1kook · 4 years ago

Text

disney+ & bust

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. warnings; arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of degradation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment, unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, return of mean jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf miscellaneous; ANGST, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count; 13k !!

notes; me: *writes couple who’s whole arc is being silly* y’all: MAKE THEM SUFFER GIVE US ANGST!! u ask I deliver so now we all suffer 😐 ngl it was hard writing this fic n u might notice there’s some parts that seem weird n that’s bc this was TWO fics w diff wording but I ended up mixing them bc I’m insane. still had a lot of fun! felt like I challenged myself!! not proofread bc when I say we suffer we SUFFER

please let me know what you think!!! a simple ask goes a long way <3

previous part: kissanime & foreplay

Approximately one week after The Bullet Bestie’s rise to prominence, Jungkook grows annoyed with it as his weirdly competitive nature rears its ugly head the more and more orgasms that little vibrator coaxes out of you. It turns on a weird switch in him, something slightly stuck up and snooty that he’ll never admit to out loud but is there nonetheless. By the following Friday, The Bullet Bestie is nestled deep in your garbage can and Jungkook’s back to pleasuring you with his tongue and fingers alone.

He had those moments in him, the ones where he liked to think he was better than any and everyone else, and occasionally they manifested against inanimate objects like a bullet vibrator.

Despite his polite and generally soft exterior, you catch glimpses of that cocky spirit more than anyone else. Over the past year, you’ve come to realize that Jungkook’s personality was like a coin that had been left out in the sun too long. He had this sweet and reserved nature you saw most times, a kindhearted boyfriend who adored you almost as much as you adored him. He was your angel whom you knew had a heart of gold, even if you were slowly bringing out his more childish tendencies. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what his mom’s favorite color was and how he liked to stack the plates in his cabinet according to size and make. It was a side that was rusted from years of being out in the sun, basking in its adoring warmth, and you loved every inch about it.

And still, there was this other side to him you rarely saw. This cocky asshole who hid beneath the soft smiles and careful hands, making his appearance only through sly smirks and a tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. He was a braggart, a man who knew his greatness yielded for no one and wanted that fact shoved down everyone’s faces. This Jungkook, this other side that never saw the light of day, was like the Hyde to his Jekyll. An unexpected, almost mean side to him that only dared make his appearance when his exhilaration was at an all-time high. Like when he was fucking you into another dimension, or kicking your ass in Mario Kart, or like now, when he was receiving an award at an annual tech ceremony.

On the eve of your one year anniversary, Jungkook’s company invites him to an awards ceremony for other web and app developers like him. It’s a grand event, filled with all the biggest nerds in the developing industry here to present the baby nerds with awards. Jungkook lies somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both a seasoned player and a rookie all at once. He spends the night tolling you around in a floor-length gown and fangirling over all the “legends” in the room.

You know next to none of these people and none of their accomplishments but still pretend you respect them to hell and back. By the end of the main dinner, you’re sympathizing with Barbie’s ever-smiling features because your cheeks feel sore.

Towards the end of the night, Jungkook wins that random award— okay, who were you fooling? He wins the Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award, recognizing him for all the hard work you’ve seen him put in this past year. It’s probably the highest recognition he can receive at this point in his career. It was an esteemed award that was bestowed upon only the most innovative developer of the year among tech companies, something Jungkook had briefly mentioned he always wanted. It’s basically the equivalent of placing first place in his field, but given Jungkook’s competitive industry and his young age, you think it’s like telling all these old Facebook lords to suck his big fat cock. (But that was your job when you got home.)

He gives a short little thank you speech, promising to work hard and own up to this title. The people around you are swooning, obviously endeared with his soft puppy dog features and melodic voice. They don’t know him like you do, don’t know that uppity twist to his grin like you do. It doesn’t slip off his face even when he steps down off the stage, arms wide open as he comes barreling towards you. Even with you in his arms, the congratulations that are thrown from every direction ring loudly in his ears and swell that ego of his.

The night goes like that for the most part, Jungkook’s acquaintances approaching him every few minutes to rain down their praises. He goes a little crazy at the open bar after a while, shoving the gold trophy into your arms as his beloved work seniors whisk him off for drinks. You don’t mind because you resigned yourself to a night of playing Jungkook’s perfectly perfect partner anyway, watching him politely mingling with his coworkers. Despite his earlier success, you know he won’t brag about it verbally. No, he’ll wait until the two of you get home—your place or his—and remind you how amazing he is with a quick snap of his hips.

As you said, he’ll never boast aloud.

However, that doesn’t mean you won’t.

“That’s my boyfriend,” you explain to the seventh person that greets you that night, excitedly pointing to where said boyfriend was slowly losing all sense of self by the bar. You don’t know anyone here beside Jungkook, and you’re pretty sure no one in their hammered minds is going to remember who you are anyway, so a little gloating never hurt anyone. “He won the ‘I’m Better Than Everyone Else’ award tonight,” you emphasize to the tipsy woman beside you who only laughs at your exaggeration. You assume she’s like you, accompanying one of the many developers here, because as soon as you finish boasting about Jungkook she moves to brag about someone too.

Truth be told, you spend the whole night re-analyzing the Zootopia movie you saw on Disney+ the other night in your head. So if the little fox fellow didn’t control himself would the city have fallen to ruins? Why was the useless sheep girl so evil and bitter? Why was there an unreal amount of romantic tension between the fox and the rabbit? Whatever, you’ll have to rewatch it some other night, and with your new Disney+ account, you could watch it anywhere you wanted to.

Now, you had never bothered to purchase a Disney+ subscription or even tried to swindle Jungkook for his password before. As far as you know, Disney+ was filled with old tv shows from your childhood, sitcoms that made you laugh when you were ten. There’s nothing wrong with that, but personally, you were a firm believer that that which was perfect should not be touched once finished; in other words, you were utterly terrified you’d rewatch an old episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, only to find out the same joke you’ve been regurgitating for the past ten years doesn’t actually go that way.

However, the harsh reality was that Disney+ was good for a few things. Ugh, you hate when giant corporations provide decent services. Aside from Zootopia, you’ve watched about every animated media on there as well, all of which you replay in your mind as Jungkook has the time of his life with these nerds, knocking back champagne glass after champagne glass.

Anyway, the night ends a little past midnight, and Jungkook who is buzzed on alcohol and high on exhilaration ends up calling an Uber for the two of you. Your apartment— the new one he had not only helped you hunt for but also helped you move into, greatly cutting the cost of movers out with those glistening biceps and thick thighs —is still going through her rebellious phase where the potted plants are trying to take over, courtesy of Kim Namjoon. So for now, there’s a potted plant in an awkward corner that both of you stub your toe against on your way to your bedroom.

You’re thinking Jungkook is going to go to town tonight, given the fact he’s on Cloud 9 and has had his ego stroked by a bunch of dudes for the past couple hours. Maybe you guys can try out the hot role-playing scenario you saw on GirlsWay a few weeks ago, or the handcuffs you impulsively bought from Amazon one Monday night. Or maybe, and this one really makes you flutter, he’ll let you fully take the reins for once.

All those lewd fantasies end up being for naught because just as you shimmy out of your gown (with the help of his hands, of course) and turn to climb him like a tree, he’s on the other side of the room getting your makeup remover out for you. And also talking. A lot. And way more than usual.

“Did you see him, babe?” he sighs, dare you to say, dreamily, handing you the cotton pads as he begins pulling a million pins out of your hair. Slowly and with a lot of confusion, you pull your fake lashes off and begin cleaning your face. “He was amazing.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, having absolutely no idea who ‘he’ is or why Jungkook is so in love with him and not you at this very moment. “But so were you,” you add. Perfect. Stroke his ego and then stroke his cock.

Jungkook sputters at your praise. He’s carefully placing your hairpins on your thigh, cheeks flaming red every time he leans over you. “Was I?” he murmurs, voice sweet in that cute little way it always gets when he’s downed one too many shots of whiskey, enough to be buzzed but not enough to be wasted.

You turn and the pins clatter to the floor and across the bedsheets. “Yes,” you confirm, ignoring his sad huff at the mess you’ve made. Instead, you grab him by the collar of that pink button-up he taunted you with all night. “You were fucking incredible and I think incredible men deserve to have their dick sucked.”

Jungkook laughs at your vulgar statement, holding you gently by the hips as you climb into his lap. “Is that so?” The soft, shy persona is gone now, replaced by the gentle stirring beneath his dress pants. You nod hurriedly, plopping down on his lap and running your hands through his styled hair.

“Yes,” you confirm, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Luckily for you, I know this nymphomaniac who would gladly gobble up your cock at your every command.”

He snorts just as you push him into his back, nose adorably scrunched up. “First of all, you know I hate that word,” he chuckles, finally gracing you with a sweet peck that only makes you want him to fuck you into the fifth dimension. “Secondly, please don’t ever say you’ll gobble my cock up ever again.”

Something inside of you squeals with excitement as he rolls the two of you over, firm body pressing down on yours. “Oh, baby,” you groan, lazily throwing a leg over his hip. Jungkook grins and then decides to entertain you for a few minutes with a sloppy kiss.

You say a few minutes because just as things are heating up, he pulls away. He smiles apologetically. “As much as I’d love to be here with you, I actually have an early morning tomorrow.”

You frown at the sudden change in events. “Huh? They’re gonna make you work the morning after a Gatsby party?” you gasp, sitting up as he gets off of you. With every step he takes away from the bed your heart breaks a little more. “They can’t do that— that’s illegal!”

From the doorway he levels you with a comically raised brow. “No, it’s not.”

You scamper after him down the hall, watch the muscles in his back flex as he pulls his suit jacket on. “You can’t work on our anniversary— that’s illegal!” you offer instead.

He stops at your front door, feet squeezed back into his shoes. “Baby, it’s not,” he rolls his eyes, leaning down to peck your forehead. “It was either I work in the morning or work at night,” he explains, giving your messy hair a soothing caress. He’s looking at you with those eyes, the ones that make your heart lodge itself into your throat and make life a tightrope experience. There’s a devastatingly lovesick part of you that wants this moment, this kind face, to be engraved into your mind for the rest of your life. You want this to be the first and last thought you have and nothing else: just Jungkook’s adoring gaze on you for the rest of time.

The moment ends too soon when he flutters one last peck against your lips. “I’ll be done in the afternoon, okay?”

You pout. “Okay, your place?” you huff, making sure to get one last octopus squeeze around his waist. He nods. “Promise you won’t be late?”

The corners of his gaze soften. “You know I won’t,” he smiles, leaning down to bump your noses together playfully. “Can’t stay away from my pretty girl too long. Besides, I have a gift for you tomorrow.”

It’s with that sentiment and a hammering heart that you let him go. With Jungkook gone, there’s really nothing for you to do now. You took the next two days off in preparation for your anniversary sex, so you don’t have to head to sleep early like usual.

With nothing else planned, you decide on rewatching that Zootopia movie that had plagued you all night, ready to dissect every plot hole to hell and back. You don’t think Jungkook’s seen this movie yet so you add it to your long list of animated movies you’re forcing him to watch.

Part of you is actually really surprised Jungkook left. Well, kinda sorta, very, but not really. Jungkook was a good boy, that much was obvious. He took his job seriously, and if his job wanted him to come in at the asscrack of dawn, then he’d come in before the sun even rose. He was a goody-two-shoes, but even so, you were occasionally able to bring out that darker side in him.

Jungkook working, like actually working in an office setting, was pretty rare though. The dude had a chill job that let him stay home most of the time, and essentially clock in whenever he wanted. Every now and then you were able to convince him to stay, tucking him beneath your body or the covers, depending on the night, and refusing to let him go the morning after.

Once he had eaten you out until the wee hours of the day, ravenous between your thighs, and then went to work the next morning like he hadn’t broken you. Another time you had persuaded him into watching every season of the 2017 DuckTales reboot through the night. When the alarm had rung in the middle of the season finale, he had simply gotten into your shower and gone off to work.

So maybe you were a little confident in your skills, and Jungkook slipping between your fingers tonight was a huge bummer. But there was no use crying over spilled milk, you tell yourself, flinging your bra off somewhere in the corner as you snuggle back into your sheets. You’re ready to tear this Zootopia movie apart, scene by scene.

Even though your apartment is a little cold, you’re comforted by the fact Jungkook will be here to keep you warm all day tomorrow.

All men do is lie.

Despite his promise to come home early the next day, Jungkook ends up lying. The meeting he had been in all morning— the same one that had stopped you from getting bent like a pretzel the night before —drags on well past noon. Then, Kim Namjoon, AKA Jungkook’s favorite senpai in the entire world, catches wind of Jungkook’s success last night and absolutely has to take him out to lunch to celebrate.

You scoff, glaring down at your phone and the impulsive messages you’d sent out an hour ago when Jungkook had first texted you telling you he would be late.

You whirl around to stomp off in the direction of his living room, where all of yours and Jungkook’s favorite foods were growing colder by the minute. You had spent the longest time carefully laying them out, making sure the fried chicken was closer than the pizza but not closer than the breadsticks. Truthfully it’s a nightmare. There are about eight stomach aches worth of food sitting on his coffee table, the greasy stench makes you gag and will certainly stick to your hair for weeks, but none of that mattered because it was all for your beau.

Your very late beau who was making you grow more and more agitated with each minute that passed. Ugh! How inconsiderate of him to test your patience on a day like this. You didn’t want to be upset with him, but this was your first, real milestone as a couple with him. You had wanted to spend the whole day cuddled up, maybe finally tell him how much he really meant to you— definitely not waking up alone with eyeliner crusted eyes and an aching heart.

Deciding you’re being a little too dramatic, you head into the bedroom to calm down. This was fine, you tell yourself, carefully laying out the damn near harlotrous lingerie you had yet to put on. Jungkook would come over soon and everything would be A-okay.

Except for the part it’s actually F-not okay because soon it’s nearing sunset and the food has gone cold so you’ve stocked it into the fridge, and the pretty sheer bra has a wonky wire that’s two seconds away from piercing through your heart, but that doesn’t even matter because Jungkook being late for your all-day anniversary celebration has already ripped it to shreds anyway.

You plop down on the couch in defeat, impulsively opening up the Disney+ app to cry through another episode of Phineas and Ferb. You’ve abandoned the satin robe that came with the lingerie in favor of donning a big t-shirt that smells like him and makes your heart hurt even more. The setting sun paints the living room in muted oranges, the chirping of birds outside the soundtrack to your lonely day.

You end up watching some other cartoon on Disney+, avoiding the Marvel section because you had promised Jungkook he could be there when you lost your Marvel virginity. Well, at least one of you was good at keeping promises, you think bitterly. For a second, you think about randomly watching one of the infamous MCU films out of order just to spite him. But then you think of that soft puppy gaze and how disappointed he’d be in you.

Whatever! It wouldn’t ever match up to the way you felt now.

Anyway, you circle back. When you’re five episodes into Phineas and Ferb you hear the doorknob rattle.

You sit up just as the door swings open, visible from your spot on the couch. He meets your gaze almost immediately, big doe eyes caught in the act. What act? You’re not really sure. In fact, you don’t even know what you’re looking at when he walks in because he’s drowning in shopping bags. His lips twist into a grin. “Honey, I’m home,” he says playfully.

You don’t laugh.

Jungkook frowns, dumping all his bags down at the entrance before waddling over towards you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, coming to stand before you and cupping your face in his hands. He’s towering over you, so tall and gorgeous but for the first time, you’re not dazed by his beauty.

“Kook, you said you’d be back hours ago,” you say slowly, avoiding his gaze. You try to keep the frustration out of your voice, but you’ve had hours to dwell on it now, and those annoying cartoon characters, though charming at first, had only served to multiply your annoyance.

Jungkook blinks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean… yeah. But I got you presents?” he beams, glancing back at the mountainous pile he made by the door. You look over too. There are some luxury bags squeezed in between other shops you like, the occasional jewelers' logo on the side.

You stand with a sigh, sauntering off into the kitchen with him on your tail. “I don’t want presents,” you mumble, reaching to pour yourself a glass of water. You’re briefly aware of how childish you must seem. Jungkook hovers behind you.

“What? Yes, you do,” he says. “You had an entire wishlist on my Amazon of things you wanted.” It’s his turn to level you with an unreadable expression, slowly crossing his arms over his chest.

Your frown only deepens as you turn to match his stance against the counter. While it may be true that you did indeed have an entire list of impulsive items on his Amazon, that didn’t necessarily mean you wanted them all. Sometimes you just wanted to stare longingly at a pair of satin gloves without actually buying them. You don’t know how to explain this much to him. “They’re not…” you stop with another deep breath. “Forget it. Thank you for the presents.”

Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to question you. “What,” he says in an unimpressed tone, padding over to you before you can escape back into the living room to watch the entire princess movie collection on Disney+. “No, tell me what’s wrong.”

For some reason, that’s exactly what you don’t want to hear. “Jungkook,” you say flatly, narrowing your eyes at him. “You come home six hours after you said you would without telling me why, and normally I wouldn’t care, but today was supposed to be a special day for us.”

Jungkook reels at your bluntness. “Babe, I was out getting stuff for you. I know it’s our anniversary— that’s why I wanted to treat you,” he responds, oddly condescendingly like you’re a child who doesn’t understand what exactly he was doing.

You brush his hands away from your shoulders. “Yeah,” you huff. “Now I know that. But I spent all day waiting for you,” you stress, chest puffing as you grow more and more agitated by his inability to understand you. God, can he let you go now? At least a bunch of animated, geometrically drawn cartoons won’t question you like this and make you feel as childish as he was.

When he doesn’t say anything else you stomp back into the living room, snatching up your phone from its forgotten spot against the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

At that Jungkook seems to kickstart back to life. “What? ___, it’s barely six,” he says as he follows after you into your bedroom. You ignore him, shuffling beneath the covers. In all actuality, you’re going to bed to mope and watch more animated family shows, maybe cry under the guise of the plot just being so sad. Jungkook sits beside you just as you click back on to finish off your episode. “Baby, I don’t get it,” he sighs. “You’re always talking about how much you want this or that, and I go out and get you it all but now you’re mad?”

You bite down on your lip, eyes lasered in on the pictures moving before you. “Jungkook, just forget it.”

“No,” he says, more sternly than he’s ever been with you before. “If there’s a problem, tell me.” There’s a heavy pause, and then he says, “don’t make me waste my time guessing what’s wrong, okay?”

“Waste your time?” you scoff, sitting up with pinched brows that you find match his. “I’m not trying to waste anyone’s time— in fact, that’s hot coming from you, Jungkook.”

He rolls his eyes. “What are you even saying? You’re mad because I took a little long getting presents, for you, might I add,” he huffs, plopping down on the edge of the mattress beside your knee. “You’re always saying you want this and that, but you can’t handle me going out to get those things? Do you hear how weird you sound?”

You whip the covers off of you. “Me talking about things doesn’t always mean I want them,” you defend.

Jungkook snorts. “Yes, it does,” he says. “Anytime you ramble about stuff for minutes like a little kid it’s because you want me to buy it for you.”

You blink. “Like a little kid?” you repeat, stunned by his comparison. Granted, you always knew you were the more childish of the two, but you never thought that would equate Jungkook thinking of you as a child. Something red and nasty flares in your chest. “Well sorry,” you spit, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, “sorry we all can’t be perfectly mature golden boys who would never see the light of day if I constantly wasn’t dragging them out.” You know it’s a somewhat low blow, especially because Jungkook’s told you before how his introverted tendencies were a sensitive issue growing up, but you can’t help it.

Jungkook groans, dropping his head into his hands. “Baby, don’t do this now,” he warns, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop acting like this.”

“Like how?” you spit, “like a kid?” Jungkook says nothing, leveling you with a blank stare from the corner of his eye. You roll your eyes, phone falling off your lap. Another episode of Phineas and Ferb had started, the corny opening tune filling the space between the two of you. “At least now I know what you think of me,” you mutter over the guitar riff.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook blurts, sitting up wildly. “Of course I’m gonna think of you as a stupid little kid, look at you,” he seethes, gesturing at the phone beside you. You flinch. “All you do is watch kids shows and whine whenever I wanna watch anything normal adults watch. You complain every single day about the most normal things, like your job? Why should I fucking care that you’re working a dead-end office job in a field you didn’t even study for— that’s not my problem, __!” he snaps, eyes narrowed into little slits. “I just won an award last night,” he says suddenly, voice back to its regular volume. “I’m at the height of my career and I’m only going up, but I can’t even enjoy that because I have to come home and cater to you,” he finishes, a loud scoff punctuating the final word.

You had never imagined Jungkook finally bragging about himself would be at your expense.

A beat of silence passes, the angry glint in his eyes quickly fading away the longer you don’t say anything. You sniff once, turning your head idly to the side where Phineas and Ferb is still blaring loudly from your phone speaker. Picking up the device, you throw it across the room where it hits his closet door with a terrifying bang the breaks the silence.

The sound snaps Jungkook out of whatever shock he’d been in. “Baby…” he says slowly, carefully, like you’re a caged animal that’s just escaped the zoo.

“I’m going home,” you say, also a little too calmly. You saunter over towards his closet where your shattered phone screen glares up at you as you yank a pair of sweats off a hanger. Jungkook is still frozen on the edge of the bed, watching you with wide eyes as you move about the room.

It’s when you’re in the hallway leading downstairs that Jungkook finally snaps out of his daze, scampering behind you as you descend the stairs. “Baby,” he rushes out, loudly bounding down after you, “___, wait,” he gasps, catching you by the kitchen counter collecting your keys. “I-I didn't mean that,” he rushes out, eyes wide and frantic as they flicker over your expression. “I don’t think that—I don’t, baby, please, just… let me explain, please.”

“Jungkook, let go of me,” you respond, shaking your wrist in an attempt to release yourself. He’s not even holding you tightly— he never would—but the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes your movements jerky and erratic. “I wanna go home.”

“No,” he chokes, cornering you against the counter. “No, baby, please just listen to me, I-I—“

“You what, Jungkook?” you snap, placing a hand on his chest and forcefully pushing him away. He lets you, stepping back with a wobbly bottom lip. “You need to tell me how you’re too good for me? How much I hold you down because I wasn’t lucky enough to get a job like yours straight out of college?” He says nothing, swallowing roughly as you jab a finger into his chest. “Well let me tell you something,” you snarl, chest heaving, “I may be childish and a huge complainer, but I’m not stupid enough to let someone walk all over me like this.”

With that, you make your great escape. Truthfully, you don’t want him to see the tears in your eyes as you yank his door open, stomping down his steps and in the direction of the nearest bus stop. The door opens right after you tug it shut, painting your shadow across the sidewalk. There’s the scrambled sound of house slippers against the concrete that follows you down. “Go the fuck back inside,” you snap without missing a beat.

Sensing your obvious anger, he pauses before he can reach you. “Text me when you get home?” he calls out quietly.

“No,” you respond.

You would never admit to anyone that you spend the entire night eating a tub of mint chocolate ice cream. It’s disgusting and makes you gag, but it’s the only one you have in your apartment. And of course, it was brought over by none other than Jeon Jungkook himself a few days ago. Even when you’re trying to comfort yourself over how mean he was, on your anniversary night no less, you’re plagued by thoughts of him everywhere.

As much as you want to brush his words off, put on that cool girl exterior you’ve maintained since high school, there’s something different about this situation. You guess it’s impossible to brush off such hateful words when they come from someone you love and adore so much.

Were you too childish? You had always believed that side of you was what made your relationship with Jungkook so perfect. The two of you meshed well because of your differences, like yin and yang. So how had he been able to so easily deconstruct every inch of that balance in a matter of a few seconds? Was this perfect reality all in your head this whole time?

You want to tell yourself it was just a heat of the moment outburst from Jungkook, give him the benefit of the doubt because he’s never snapped at you like this before. Of course you’ve fought a couple of times in the past year, but neither of you had ever stooped as low as you did yesterday. Furthermore, the insecure part of your brain says he obviously felt this somewhere in his heart to bring it up at all. What he had said to you wasn’t something someone could make up on the spot.

You don’t text him when you get home, partly to spite him, but mainly because you had left your phone at his place anyway. You know he tried calling you last night because the call log is synced up to your laptop. He called on and off for about thirty minutes before he probably found your phone in his room. Whatever, he can mope in his regret for all you care

—is what you wanna say, but the longer he goes without showing himself to you the more your insecurities and hurt fester. Was this it? Was this the end of what was probably the best year of your life? It’s too painful to think about, to even consider the possibility that Jungkook might have gained a new insight last night and decided, hey, maybe this is for the best after all.

You drown yourself in an ungodly amount of sugar for breakfast, your laptop blaring yet another episode of Phineas and Ferb on the dining table. Muscle memory has you making Jungkook’s favorite pancakes before you can stop yourself, and by the time you do realize, you’ve resigned yourself to the blueberry smell anyway.

There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb.

It’s not.

It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door. You open the door with a fright, jumping back when he slumps forward and almost crashes face-first into the floor. “You didn’t call,” Jungkook cries, leaning a little too much of his weight onto you when you reach out to steady him.

The thundering of your heart slows upon registering it’s him. “Kook?” you frown, nose pinched at the ungodly stench of alcohol wafting off his clothes. “Have you been drinking?” you ask even though the answer is staring you right in the face (and in the nose).

He groans, staggering deeper into your arms. You blindly push the door shut behind him, resigning yourself to this new situation while your pancakes grow cold in the other room. “Baaaby,” he slurs, letting you guide him into the living space. He’s unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, half-opened eyes gazing up at you. “Let me,” a hiccup, “explain.”

You won’t lie. There’s a very obvious sense of discomfort sitting in your chest, torn between two paths that you don’t wish to choose between. His skin is warm and flushed like he’s just walked all the way here in this morning sun. You step over to the window that faces down onto the street below. There’s no sign of his car; you would have killed him if he ever tried to drive in this state.

“Did you walk here?” you ask instead, deciding there’s no need for one singular path, not when you can walk straight down the middle, both cleaning him and grilling him at the same time.

Jungkook’s response is delayed, head lolling from side to side as you help him out of his sweater. His skin is sweaty beneath, scorching to the touch. “Uh-huh,” he groans. Jesus, you sort of assumed but him confirming it really set things into perspective.

By no means did you and Jungkook live on opposite ends of the earth. On a good day, a drive from your place to his took about ten minutes. But walking? Easily an hour. Had he walked all the way from his place, drunk on top of that?

You brush his hair away from his face, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. His lips are pouty yet chapped, dehydrated from the sun and the alcohol he reeks of. “Sit up for me,” you instruct, scampering off to your room for chapstick and water.

“Anything for you,” Jungkook wheezes, throat probably dryer than a desert. When you return, he’s two seconds from face planting into the coffee table and breaking that pretty face of his. You catch him with a hand on his shoulder, keeping him balanced. “Tell me what to do,” he chokes out, voice hoarse.

“Just need you to drink some water,” you say, pressing a cup against his lips. He drinks it, but a drop still dribbles down his chin.

“No,” he groans, catching your wrist in his hand when you reach up to apply some chapstick on him. “Tell me what to do,” he stresses, “to fix this. Fix us.”

His words make you pause, the tube of chapstick hovering over his plush lips. “You don’t have to do anything,” you respond quietly, trying to finish the application so you can pull away.

Jungkook doesn’t let you go. You try to look away, but there’s something about him that looks off. Maybe it’s the raw skin under his eyes, red and swollen. Or the sad droop to those same eyes that hold you captive. Or maybe it’s the subtle tremble in his hands, the fingers that hold tightly to your wrist, not to keep you there but to ground himself. “I don’t wanna lose you,” he rasps out, shakily bringing your hand to his mouth, where he presses one airy kiss to your knuckles. “Tell me ho-how to fix this and I’ll do it,” he pleads, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

Unable to withstand the sheer amount of agony on his expression, you look away. “___, please,” he chokes out, stumbling off the couch in his drunk and desperate haze until he’s kneeling in front of you. “I can’t… I can’t,” he sniffles, tears clouding those pretty eyes you’ve come to love so much. “I don’t know who I am without you.”

You clench your jaw. “You’re Jeon Jungkook,” you murmur, slipping your hand out of his hold to run through his hair. It’s knotted and a little too greasy, two things Jungkook would usually never allow. “This year’s Platinum Mobile Standard of Excellence Award recipient,” you remind him, trailing your thumb across his cheekbone when he turns to look up at you with those big Bambi eyes. “Sweet and shy, but you love being rowdy with your friends. You love movies and TV and organizing your shirts according to fabric type. You work harder than anyone I know and never complain. You date me, even though I’m a huge child,” you smile sadly.

“No!” he jumps, turning that frantic stare back into you. “Y-You’re not— it’s not,” he stammers, words still slurring together. “I’m a liar,” he cries, resting his forehead on your knees. His shoulders shake. “I don’t deserve you,” he weeps quietly. You place a hand on his shoulder. “Y-Y-You make my life so much better, ___, so colorful and fun. I-I wish I knew you in high school,” he admits, “maybe I wouldn’t have been so emotionally constipated now.”

“You’re not,” you reassure him softly.

He disagrees. “You bring out the best,” he hiccups, “the best in me.” Your heart skips in your chest. “I-I love you, you know that?”

You sputter, eyes wide at his sudden confession. “I… love you so much, y’know? I think about you ev-every night, ___,” he rambles, eyes dreamily gazing off into some miscellaneous spot on the wall behind you. “I can’t get you out of my head. Like you're a song, o-on repeat but it’s not annoying because it’s my favorite song, and I could listen to it for the rest of my life, y’know? My favorite song, I know all the words b-because it’s all I think about! I love... My love… I love you so much.”

“Kook,” you rush out, cheeks flaming as you try to pull him away from where he’s slumped over your legs. His passionate speech has you abuzz, body tingling everywhere until you feel overwhelmed, head spinning like you’re on a rollercoaster. “Let’s get you to bed.”

He nods sleepily, seemingly coming down from whatever alcohol induced rampage has allowed him to walk for an hour straight in this searing heat just to confess to you. “Y-You don’t have to say it back,” he continues to stutter as you guide him through the living room on wobbly legs. “I just-I just— can I?” he babbles. “Can I love you, ___?”

You pass through the kitchen space, where whatever you were watching on Disney+ is blaring loudly. It distracts Jungkook for about two seconds before his attention returns to you. When you don’t answer, he presses on. “Is that okay?” he asks, whirling around to face you, catching your shoulders in his hands. He towers over you by the entrance to your bedroom, dark curls tickling your forehead. His eyes are dark and glazed over, both in tears and an emotion so raw and unfiltered it squeezes around your chest until you can’t breathe. “Is it okay for me to love you?” he murmurs softly, knocking his nose against yours.

Your cheeks blaze. “Yes, th-that’s fine, Kook,” you blubber, placing a hand over his chest, where his heart is also hammering away. “Just need you to go rest now, okay?”

He nods sleepily, nudging your nose with his one last time, like a soft almost-kiss, before letting you push him into the room. “Yes, yes,” he breathes, his body finally crashing from his adrenaline spike. He flops down onto the bed unceremoniously, dark waves fanning across your pillows. You try to wiggle him out of his shirt, but it only gets about halfway up his chest before he blindly reaches for the covers. His legs stick out awkwardly, clad in the sweatpants you’ve come to associate with him.

When he’s all swaddled up in your blanket he finally goes limp, tiny snores leaving his lips as he dozes away from reality. You sigh, pressing a palm to his forehead. He’s still warm and clammy, but at this point, there’s nothing you can do but wait for him to sober up.

With a final kiss to his forehead, you leave the room, closing the door behind you before sliding against the wooden surface. There’s a trapped bird in your chest, wildly flapping its wings in an effort to get out, and it’s all stupid Jungkook’s fault in the next room. Stupid Jungkook who demolished and remodeled your heart all in less than twenty-four hours. It doesn’t calm down, even when you rush off into the kitchen for a glass of water, or when you try to immerse yourself in some other show on Disney+. It stays beating against your ribs and your chest until you’re forcing yourself to sit down on the couch and process.

He wakes up a little before dinner. You hear him from the living room, where you’re flicking through the options on Disney+ for the nth time that day. You’ve seen the first fifteen minutes of about twenty different series and movies by now, always growing antsy and abandoning them early on. The only reason you know he’s awake is because the shower turns on for a few minutes, and then his bare feet are heard padding across the hallway back into your room.

By the time he resurfaces in the living room, you’ve resigned yourself to just more Phineas and Ferb, nonchalantly watching the silly cartoon. (Except you’re anything but nonchalant, and your heartbeat rings in your ears.)

Jungkook hovers by the door, clad in a pair of shorts he’s left here before, and a t-shirt you stole from him. “Hey,” he says quietly, lingering by the doorframe. You nod back in response. “Can I watch with you?” Again, another nod.

Slinking over to the couch, he’s rather careful as he sits down, leaving a few inches of space between the two of you. You don’t even think he can see the screen of your laptop until he murmurs, “he’s my favorite character,” when Perry the Platypus appears on the screen.

You hum. “Thought you didn’t like these kids shows?” you ask. You don’t mean it to sound as petty and backhanded as it comes out, but that’s really no one's fault but his own.

Jungkook’s breathing tightens beside you. “No,” he admits, “I don’t. Only watch them because I know you like them.” You contemplate pausing the episode and engaging in a real conversation with him, but at this point, you’re very tired from the events of the last day. Jungkook doesn’t press either, just shuffles more comfortably beside you.

You get about five minutes in, quiet chuckles shared between the two of you, before he strikes. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he says, so hushed you almost don’t hear it. His hand is resting in the space between you, pinky brushing against yours. “About… being late. And the presents.”

You inspire slowly. “That wasn't even the problem, silly,” you brush off. From your peripheral, you see Jungkook’s slow nod. “I didn’t want any presents,” you mention, “I just wanted you.” You look away from the screen immediately after, pretending like the spot on the ceiling is actually really interesting.

The two of you fall into silence, the animated characters on your screen rapidly chattering away. “Oh,” Jungkook says after a moment.

You roll your eyes. They’re moist but you don’t want him to see. “Yeah, oh,” you parrot back softly, relaxing into the couch again. “Did you eat the food I left out?”

Jungkook shuffles beside you, the soft lull of the speakers soon being cut as he reaches over to pause Phineas and Ferb. A couple of seconds pass and then he’s leaning into you, head resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, placing a palm over the hand he had been teasing for the past few minutes. “I thought I knew what I was doing but I was wrong.”

His voice is so soft and sincere, it makes your chest ache. You try to burrow your face against your opposite shoulder, try to hide the stray tear that escapes out of the corner of your eye. “It’s fine,” you brush off, voice choked off and hoarse.

Jungkook leans up, pecks your cheek so tenderly it makes you go mushy. “No, it’s not fine. I acted like a know-it-all and said something way out of line,” he murmurs, raising his head to look at you. His hand feels warm over yours. It’s the touch you craved all day and yesterday, the warm feel of his body against yours. You’re embarrassed at how easily you melt into it. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long time,” he tells you, holding your hand close to his chest. “I had no right to say those things to you.”

You sniffle, resting your head against his shoulder now. His heart beats loud enough for you to hear. “Was it true?” you mumble. “Do you really think of me like that?”

He shakes his head, his soft breaths fanning across your forehead. “No, never,” he answers. “I think you’re incredible. My brain was just trying to justify my dumb anger.”

You nod, even if you don’t believe it just yet. But that was a conversation for later, you suppose, sometime in the future when you aren’t on the verge of tears and threatening to crumble apart at the simplest word that leaves his mouth.

“I should have come home like you wanted, thought about my words before saying them,” he says, snuggling closer to you. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” you sniffle, covering your face with your free hand as he presses a kiss to the vein that runs over the back of the hand he’s holding captive. “Now it just sounds like I'm just being inconsiderate of your gifts and a crybaby.”

Jungkook kisses your temple softly, gently. “Don’t think about the gifts,” he says. “Just tell me what you wanted to do, doll.”

His voice calms you, has you like putty in his arms. “Watch movies,” you mumble, toying with a thread on your couch cushion. “Be with you.”

He hums. “Then we’ll do that,” he says, reaching for your laptop again. The screen nearly blinds you when it flickers back to life before you, Jungkook’s low breaths against your ear making it near impossible for you to process the titles on the screen. “You liked Disney+?”

Belatedly, you nod. “I like the animated movies,” you admit quietly, the anxieties of before slowly melting away, even more so when he slides his arm around you, pulling you close against his chest.

Unlike other times where he’ll critique the hell out of such childish films, Jungkook says nothing as he starts up the Zootopia movie instead, the same one you had wanted to show him before, right from the beginning. “That bunny looks like you,” you murmur when Judy Hopps first appears on the screen.

Jungkook snorts. “You say that about every cartoon bunny.”

You turn your head to glance at him over your shoulder. He meets your gaze with a small smile you return. “It’s because you’re so cute,” you say softly, lips twisting playfully when his cheeks grow scarlet.

He knocks his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering shut. “Not cute, just lucky,” he chuckles. “Lucky enough to have you.” Your heart turns over in your chest, threatening to burst out of your rib cage at his words. You try to turn in his arms. Before you can say the words that have been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now, he’s beating you to it once again. “I love you,” he confesses in a hushed whisper, no alcoholic influence.

Something inside of you blossoms, eyes wide as he chastely kisses you. He pulls away without you ever reacting, too caught up in surprise to kiss him back properly. He stays close, curls tickling your forehead as he leans over you. “You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted you to know. I love you,” he says again, long lashes blinking down at you. “So much. It makes me feel like a stupid teenager again, going to the mall to buy a gift for my crush.” He laughs sheepishly, reaching down to tangle your fingers together. “Is that okay?” he asks quietly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

It mirrors the confession he’d given you that morning, those slurred words and teary eyes. It had been difficult to pinpoint the legitimacy of it before, the meaning scrambled by his hazy mind. But with him staring at you like this now, like you single-handedly plucked the stars from the sky to put them in those sparkly eyes of his, it makes something inside you ache.

Still, you choke on your own spit. “I-Is it okay for you to love me?” you sputter incredulously, realizing the oddity of the same question he’d thrown at you earlier. But now, you’re both sober and you can really tear apart that sentence. Jungkook nods a little too seriously for your liking. “Are you crazy?” He blinks in confusion, brows pulling together as you slowly but surely lose the last bits of your sanity. “You’re an idiot, Jeon Jungkook,” you huff, “a stupidly handsome, rich, walking dream, idiot who goes out with stupid girls like me.”

“Not stupid,” he murmurs, closing in on you again as he finally understands the truth behind your masked insults. He smells minty and like his favorite body wash of yours.

“No,” you deny. “You’re actually, like, insane. You have a bachelor pad, make enough money to sustain an entire litter of kittens, look and talk like every teenage girl’s dream boyfriend— but you mess it all up by dating evil, conniving hoes like me who lose their shit over Disney cartoons.” He says nothing, watching you with an amused grin as you talk over yourself, basically regurgitating his statement from yesterday except it kinda seems plausible now that you’re over it. “It’s stupid. No, you’re stupid. No— I’m stupid.”

Jungkook chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth gently. “Done?” he says, a dimple appearing on his cheek. You could kiss it away, but you need him to know the amount of stupidity in this room was astronomically high. “You’re not stupid, baby,” he says. You level him with a look. “Well. You have your moments.”

“Moments?” you repeat, standing up in a hurry that has him flopping down beside you. Your laptop is lost somewhere on the cushions, the voices faded as they grow farther away. “I am so stupid. I called Namjoon a whore for taking you out for lunch!” you cry. “I am the stupidest person in the world.”

Jungkook cackles, standing up beside you. “Yes, yes, you’re my stupid girl,” he teases, tapping the pout on your lips playfully. “So stupid she slanders herself instead of just telling me she loves me too.” He bumps your noses together, dark eyes staring at you almost daringly after his claim.

You fold soon enough. “I love you,” you mumble, “even if I’m too stupid to say it.”

He rewards your confession with a kiss, pulling you into his arms soon after. He sighs, almost wistfully. “Whatever shall I do with my very stupid girl?”

After exactly three minutes of feeling safe and loved in his arms, he abandons the living room in favor of leading you back to your room, where he pushes you down against your mattress. You cling to him, leaving him positioned over you at an angle. His chest presses against yours, arm curled around the back of your head. “Gotta get up, baby,” he laughs.

You shake your head, caging him in your arms. “Nuh-uh,” you murmur, legs wiggling when he places a hand on your hip.

Jungkook chuckles, pressing a kiss against the side of your ear. “Your movie is still playing in the other room,” he reminds you, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hip. You don’t release him, his mindless touch only encouraging you to keep him close. “Babe?”

You say nothing, relishing in the comfort of Jungkook’s presence. His hair smells good and feels even softer against the side of your face. The cotton shirt he found is crumpled beneath your fists, dark blue pattern wrinkling. Finally coming to terms with his new home, Jungkook eventually relaxes into your hold with a sigh.

“Alright,” he hums, patting your hip as he repositions himself more comfortably. “I get it. My pretty girl must’ve missed me, huh?” You nod, soaking in every detail about him in this moment. Jungkook shifts, the hand on your hip suddenly falling over your thigh instead. “Or should I say my stupid girl?” he purrs, hand slipping between your thighs. “My stupid, little girl?”

A gasp catches in your throat when he runs his fingers over the front of your panties. Your legs kick out wildly at the sudden touch, toes curling at the hands you dreamt about all day and night. “Oh,” you pant, each brush of his fingers feeling better than the last.

“What?” he says, mouthing against the side of your neck. His tongue feels warm, but the trails of saliva he leaves have you shivering. “Too dumb to speak?” he scoffs, biting down against a particular spot on your neck. You whimper, unsure if it’s because of his hands or his mouth.

“N-No,” you try to sneer back, fingernails digging into his skin through his shirt. His hands are getting braver now, the pad of his pointer finger dancing over your engorged clit. The sheer material of your panties certainly doesn’t help, each touch feeling like it’s being magnified three times over. And if it felt this good with underwear, you can’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel without.

You don’t have to ponder for long, because soon after Jungkook is slipping his hand beneath your waistband, touching your sensitive pussy head-on. “Kook.”

He uses your momentary vulnerability to ease himself from your hold, finally recoiling enough to smother your mouth with his. You moan in surprise, thighs quivering as he gets to work circling your hardened bud sans your panties. Jungkook isn’t the least bit kind as he kisses you ruthlessly, likes he’s trying to compensate for something with his movements. When he finally pulls away it’s with an obnoxious pop and cherry red lips. He huffs, glancing down to see where he’s got his fingers pleasuring you.

Your thighs are squirming back and forth, closing around his hand every few seconds. Jungkook snorts. “Huh, look at that,” he mutters, trailing down until his fingers are gliding over your quickly sopping folds. “Stupid girl is good for something.”

Your cheeks burn. “Kook, I’m not—“

Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed glare. “Not what? Not stupid? But I could’ve sworn you just spent the last few minutes saying you were,” he drones meanly, landing one light slap against your cunt that makes your hips buck.

You bite down a whimper. “I was just…” you trail off, eyes rolling back when he teases one finger against your opening.

“Kidding?” he supplies. “Well, I wasn’t.” Your heart stutters in your chest, eyes growing wide as he finally pushes himself off of you, propping himself up with an elbow beside your head. His gaze is dark and unrecognizable. “I think you’re so fucking stupid, doll,” he sneers. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

You should have seen this moment coming, the manifestation of that shiny side of the coin finally reaching its full potential.

While Jungkook wasn’t exactly shy about his interests, he certainly wasn’t tripping over himself to tell you every new kinky thing he wanted to try. You sort of guessed he had some interest in this sort of play a few weeks ago when you watched the Barbie movie at his place. A lot of that night had branded itself into your three am wet dreams, but there was one particular moment that stood out to you. That was you, on your knees, with him condescendingly patting your head. Or just last week, you vaguely remember the term slipping through his lips as he pleasured you with The Bullet Bestie.

The thing about Jungkook was that, until last night, he would have never admitted, or so much as even thought, that he was better than you. That was fine because you would say it enough for the both of you anyway. Did you think Jungkook was amazing, an absolute diamond among these measly rocks? Absolutely. (Were you slightly biased because you were his girlfriend? Skip.) However, you also had this insane evil villain complex that made you want to brag about everything you possibly could, especially if that meant bragging about your boyfriend.

Realistically speaking, he was better than you, that much you could look past yesterday’s anger to admit, and not even in a stuck-up, conceited way; he had a really good job, an architecturally amazing house, and a hot girlfriend. Meanwhile, you had a mediocre job, an okay apartment, and an insanely sexy Calvin Klein boyfriend, half of which he had pointed out yesterday. Regardless of how powerful that third factor was, he still outnumbered you three to one.

Sue you, Jungkook was amazing. Anyone could see that! Except, maybe, himself.

And if the only time Jungkook would openly brag about his greatness or establish how much better than you he was, was in a post-fight, sex-induced setting, then you were more than happy to be his punching bag. So long as it was on your terms, and not as a result of his weirdly bottled up feelings.

(Yeah, you would have a long talk about that tomorrow.)

But for now, you pout up at him, clamping your thighs shut purposefully. “You’re stupid too,” you defend, “stupid and mean.”

Something in his expression changes. Suddenly, he’s moving at superhuman speed as he snatches his hand out from where you had previously trapped him between your legs, yanking you up by the front of your shirt. “Mean?” he mocks. “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” You shiver, fingers wrapping around the wrist that holds your sweater. “Wanted me to be mean and push you around like a little rag doll?”

Jungkook looks at you for another two seconds, before he’s slowly pulling away from you, leaning back on his knees. His tongue is pressing against the inside of his cheek, jaw tightening from the movement. “Baby,” he says so quietly it instills a prickle of fear in you, tainted with delicious excitement.

“Yeah?” you whisper, sitting up tentatively as you watch him, He was a bit frightening, like a wild animal about to devour you whole.

Jungkook rolls his neck, the joints in his spine cracking as he begins tugging off his shirt. You salivate at the sight, too focused on the sinewy muscles of his body to catch the dark gaze he levels your way. He throws it off to the side, his sleeve of tattoos that wraps around his bicep and begins to crawl down his chest wonderfully unobstructed now. “Eyes up here,” he says and you quickly meet his gaze. He leans forward, muscled arms coming to cage you against the headboard. “Stupid little sluts don’t have the room to make such comments,” he rasps out, unamused expression adorning his normally soft features. “Don’t you think so?”

“I-I don’t know,” you stammer, leaning away as he comes closer and closer, eventually just turning your head to the side to avoid that emotionless look. It’s the wrong move, and Jungkook lets you know as much by forcefully digging his fingers into your cheeks and turning your face back around to meet his gaze.

A hand grabs beneath your knee, tugging harshly until you’re flopping down onto your back with a squeal. You settle with his knee pressed hotly against your core. Jungkook stays towering over you. “Dumb little girls who make me watch cartoons,” he spits, tracing a hand over your chest, molding your breasts beneath his hands roughly enough to make you gasp. “And watch little animal movies on Disney+. Aren’t they just so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you concede, subtly shifting your hips for some desperately needed friction. Jungkook snorts, finally granting you your wish with one rough slide of his thigh against your core.

“I agree,” he says, and surprises you with a hand around your throat as he leans in to properly grind his thigh into you. “All they’re good for is being dumb little sluts with good pussy,” he murmurs darkly, thumb pressing into the side of your neck forcefully. “Sometimes, they don’t even do anything,” Jungkook continues, his other hand on your hip hauling you higher up his thigh. You mewl, soaked panties rubbing roughly against your folds. You miss the soft swirl of his thumb, the gentle prod of his fingers. Even so, you can’t deny this change in Jungkook is doing something to you, riling up a part of you that you hadn’t known existed. Maybe it’s the horniness from yesterday that was left unfulfilled, the one year anniversary sex that was put on pause. “Just lay there and take it, too fucked out and dumb to say anything.”

His fingers loosen for the briefest of seconds and you gasp for breath. “That’s terrible,” you whimper, rolling your hips up into his thigh, so close to his swollen cock.

Jungkook chuckles without an ounce of humor, pressing your foreheads together as he helps grind you to completion. “Isn’t it? I think that stupid little girl is cute though.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, vision spotting as he tightens his hand back around your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you moan, stomach tight from all the stimulation.

Jungkook hums, slowing you down with a tight grip on your waist. “Hm, what are you sorry for?” he croons, pink lips pulling into an evil smile. “You said you weren’t that stupid girl, __.”

You shake your head, trying to roll your hips up again but he’s holding you too tightly now, rendering you immobile beneath him. “I am,” you choke out shamefully, grabbing at the hand on your hip in a feeble attempt to remove it. “I am a stupid little girl.”

Jungkook smirks, leaning down to slot his mouth over yours. “That’s right,” he murmurs, “nothing but a dumb little slut.”

You shiver, opening your mouth when he slides his tongue against your bottom lip. He’s not the slightest bit nice, and more messy than usual. He pulls away with a bite to your lower lip, meeting your trembling gaze with that same unrecognizable glint in his eyes. “Come on, dummy, keep up,” he snarks before devouring you again. You try to, you really do, but he’s moving like an animal today, despite his slow and drunken movements from that morning. So you end up with his saliva dripping down your throat, clinging to the corners of your lips as he begins slowly grinding you against his thigh again. He flashes you a wicked smile, pearly teeth on display for you as he glances down at your messy appearance.

“Are you gonna touch me?” you ask, lower lip trembling at the thought after your desperate rutting. Jungkook purses his lips together in thought.

“Mmm,” he hums. “Don’t know yet.”

You whine. “Jungkook, please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you.”

Jungkook chuckles, running his hand up your waist and taking your shirt with him. He slips his fingers beneath your bra, pushing the wire over your chest as he mouths at your neck. “Cute,” he says. “Can’t do it yourself?”

You tremble, chest arching into him as he rolls your nipple between his fingers. “I-I can,” you gasp. “Just feels better with you.”

Jungkook follows your statement with a nip against your skin, tongue soothing over it right after. “Why? Because I do everything better than you? Even make you cum better than you?”

Your cheeks heat up at his blatant ego rearing its head, hands carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. You say nothing, and that only eggs Jungkook on. “Come onnn,” he teases, finally, finally rolling his hips down onto your core. You squeak, head falling back against the pillows as you’re granted the one thing you’d been chasing. “Say it.”

“Say what?” you ask, voice wobbly as he continues to slowly rut against you, the front of his shorts pressing against the soaked crotch area of your panties. “Oh, oh, Jungkook,” you whine.

Suddenly he bites down harshly, teeth digging painfully into your skin. You yelp in surprise, pussy throbbing at the pain that shoots throughout your body. Jungkook pulls away and doesn’t bother soothing over it as he leans up to capture your jaw this time. “Say you’re a stupid little slut who can’t do anything without me,” he purrs, kisses too soft for the words he says.

Your mind blanks, torn between the humiliating phrase he wants you to say and properly checking him in his place. In the end, it’s with a twisted need to please him that you’re repeating the words back to him. “I-I’m a stupid slut,” you whimper, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he continues pushing you right along the edge. The rope pulled tightly in your core is slowly being pulled apart, threads hanging on for dear life. “Can’t... can't do anything without...”

“Without who?” he asks, reaching down and untying the front of his shorts. “Can’t do anything without who, baby?”

“Without you, without you,” you cry, bucking your hips up against his, the combined movements of both your bodies making you shake like a leaf. “Ah, K-Kook,” you wail, hips stuttering as your orgasm finally swallows you up. Your panties quickly grow wet and icky from your own arousal that pools between your thighs. Jungkook lets you writhe beneath him as you chase your high, mouth sucking a pretty blossom against your jaw.

You know better than to expect the night to end here, especially after seeing the glint that had been in his eyes as he watched you unravel.

He leans close, let’s his nose brush against yours as you catch your breath. “So perfect for me,” he groans, slotting his lips against yours. You can barely keep up with him, languidly going along with his hot tongue. “Perfect, perfect girl,” he murmurs, a stark change from the less than friendly adjectives he used just moments before. “Tell me you love me?” he says softly.

You nod, mind fuzzy as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Love you,” you exhale, letting your fingers knot in his hair. Your proclamation does something to him, makes him grind the front of his cotton shorts hard against you. For someone that was often rough and brutal with you in bed, he sure was sensitive to the mushiest of things.

“Don’t deserve you,” he huffs, hot breath fanning across your skin. He switches gears fairly quickly. “Tell me you hate me,” he begs hoarsely, rutting against your soiled panties. “Tell me I’m a piece of shit and you could do better without me,” he pleads, voice too airy to be another one of his usual sex-induced thoughts.

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he rolls his hips. “It’s not true,” you whisper, “I love you more than you’ll ever understand.”

Jungkook groans, suddenly winding back and tearing your ruined panties down your legs. You gasp in surprise, letting him haul you about in his blind, self-inflicted rage. “Stupid, stupid,” he huffs, though at this point you can’t tell who it’s directed at. With your underwear out of the way, he wastes no time plunging his fingers back into your cunt, bypassing the tight ring of muscle around it without any of his usual care. “You should hate me,” he snarls, lips pressed against your ear.

You moan, back arching at the sudden pleasure that blossoms between your thighs. “I-I don’t,” you gasp, toes curling.

Jungkook groans, the sound traveling down your spine and straight into your pussy. “Stupid girl,” he huffs, slipping an arm around you to pull you so close until you can’t breathe, chests lined up together. His skin is warm to the touch, scorching almost. “Fuck,” he groans, curling his fingers inside of you. You whimper and moan, incapable of staying still beneath him as he tortures you with a thumb to your clit. “Tell me you hate me,” he seethes again.

Despite the fog that’s settled over your mind, you still manage a resolute shake of your head. “N-no,” you cry, digging your nails into his back. They run dark red lines over his skin, making him hiss at the sting.

Whatever punishment he’s trying to put himself through is falling through with your refusal to admit such a thing. It aggravates him even more, your adamant stance on loving him so, and he’s retracting his fingers before you can cum again. “Please,” he chokes, face tucked into your neck. He’s sloppy with his movements; as he pulls his shorts down and kicks them away, he nearly suffocates you with his weight. “I don’t deserve you, ___, please.”

“I love you,” you whimper for lack of explanation. Jungkook leans back, that same madman gaze in his glossy eyes. He’s looking at you in disbelief almost, pouty lips puckered and swollen. Your hands slip from around him, falling on either side of your head.

Like a cobra he strikes, collecting your wrists in one hand he pins above your head. The sudden movement has him leaning in close, lips brushing over yours. His lashes are coated in a wetness he refuses to acknowledge, looking at you like you drive him insane. “If you ever try to leave me,” he whispers, jerky breath fanning over your skin, “I’ll lose my mind.”

He loves you so much it aches.

“I won’t,” you whimper, feeling your own eyes well up with an emotion that consumes every inch of your being. “I’ll never leave you, you stupid, stupid boy.”

A faint smile crosses his features at your words, lips quirking to the side. You relish in it for all of two seconds before he’s ramming his cock into you, your sensitive walls spawning around him. You sob loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. Your legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist, digging into the base of his spine as he rolls his hips into you.

You feel full and complete like he belongs there in this moment and every moment after this. It makes your heart constrict painfully. Jungkook’s soft groans follow your more unraveled noises, the vulgar slapping of skin on skin the underlying melody to it all. “Ffffuck,” he spits, greedily swallowing your moans up. You whine, arms bucking in an effort to hold him close. But he’s determined in his act of restraining you, long fingers tightening around your wrists until they hurt. “I warned you, didn’t I?” he huffs, snapping his hips into you.

Your walls clench around his hard cock, the drag as he exits sending shivers throughout your body. Jungkook’s body towers over you, glistening in sweat as he nails you into your mattress. “Remember what I said?” he asks, voice but a shuddery exhale. You shake your head numbly, overwhelmed by the rough drag across your walls. “All those months ago, when you first came over,” he adds. The hand on your hip abandons its post to cup you beneath the jaw, palm pressing sinfully against your throat enough to block the tiniest of airflow. “I’ll fuck you and keep you forever,” he murmurs, voice deeper than the pits of hell. He licks a fat stripe over your cheek like you’re nothing but a sweet for him to devour. “Do you remember that, pretty girl?”

You nod jerkily, hips arching up into him when he thrusts into you again. It’s a memory that replays in your mind every so often, your first night with the man you had planned to humiliate over a mere misunderstanding, now your boyfriend of one year. “Want that,” you gasp, tears blurring your vision when he begins picking up the pace. “Wanna be y-your pretty girl forever.”

Jungkook groans, kissing the corner of your mouth. His thighs are some magnificent beings, keeping his pace consistent even as he loses himself in his overwhelming need to kiss you. “Always,” he manages, soft lips pressed against yours. “I won’t ever let you leave.”

A shriek tears itself from your lips as he picks up that harsh piston, releasing your jaw to hold both wrists above your head. It makes his curls dangle in front of his eyes, covering that beautiful dark gaze. It makes his thin little necklace swing back and forth too, though it’s too small to actually touch your face. The rhythmic swing has you hypnotized, just like everything else about Jungkook.

With the length of his hair, you’re left staring at his lips, pulled taut between his pearly white teeth. The word from before sits heavy in your chest, begs to drip from the tip of your tongue. But he’s moving too fast and too hard, scrambling your thoughts until all you can think about is the cock plunging into your heat. His name falls from your mouth like mindless blubber instead, arms thrashing as your second orgasm swallows you up. It sends you crashing, body spasming as the sheer euphoria waves over you slowly and then all at once.

“Perfect,” he grunts, leaning down to slot his mouth against yours, “my perfect girl.” Your cum makes the sound of his hips erotic, the loud squelching following your panting. Still sensitive from your high, your body unconsciously tightens around him, keeps his cock from fully leaving. It brings a soft whine out of Jungkook, one he tries to muffle against the side of your face.

“Inside,” you whimper, even though your body feels like jelly beneath him. “Cum inside, Kook, please,” you beg.

It only takes a few more thrusts into your leaking hole for him to finally reach paradise, hips stuttering when that first shot of pleasure hits him. “Fuck, fuck,” he growls, wildly snapping his hips into your achy cunt. You moan, feeling just about brainless at the overstimulation. His cum leaves you full, almost makes your belly bulge from it. When he’s done he doesn’t bother pulling away, simply slumping into your limp form. His cock, though quickly softening, serves as a plug for the cum threatening to spill out of you.

There’s a muted noise coming from the other room, the faint sound of the mail slipping through your letterbox, the quiet chattering of the street outside. And of course, the loud blaring of your laptop playing the Phineas and Ferb theme song. Jungkook registers it at about the same time as you, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

He pushes off of you soon after, leaning on his palms over you. He’s got that molten look on his eyes, the heat of a thousand suns burning behind those irises as he looks at you. Like he can’t get enough, even though he’s just about taken everything there is to take. “Love you,” he murmurs quietly.

A drop of sweat rolls over his forehead, clinging to the end of his eyebrow. You reach up and brush it away, let your hand trail down his face to cup his cheek. Immediately he leans into the touch, eyes falling half shut. “Love you more,” you respond.

“Impossible,” he scoffs.

Soon after you’re both stumbling out of bed, clothes haphazardly shrugged back on as you drift through the living room. There’s a thin, hot pink package sitting at the door, just having slipped through the letterbox; the stark Sexuality Unleashed logo is printed on the visible side, so you have to wonder what Doyeon could have possibly ordered this time that could be so thin. The laptop is awkwardly sandwiched next to a throw pillow, barely open a crack. Jungkook retrieves it, sets it on his lap as you scamper over to the couch.

“More Phineas and Ferb?” he asks quietly. He hates it, you know he does. And still, he wants to watch it with you.

You nod. “Please.”

He isn’t so concerned with the plot as you, clicking some random episode to start. You snuggle into his side, quietly singing along to the opening. After a moment, Jungkook speaks again. “Phineas and Flirt?” he offers cheekily.

You roll your eyes. “That might’ve been your worst one yet,” you sigh, trying to drown out his indignant huff by focusing on the screen.

“I don’t exactly see you coming up with these,” he points out, obviously feeling wronged.

Without missing a beat you say, “Disney+ and bust.”

epilogue

commercial break one ; the resolution

#goldenclosetnet #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #ksmutclub #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jeongguk smut #jjk smut #jeongguk smut #bts smut #jjk♡#jeon jungkook #mine

4K notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 1)

summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 2875

warnings: smut... sort of (oral f receiving), voyeurism/exhibitionism (kinda?), touch of angst, lots of pining and awkwardness, jealous bucky being jealous, alcohol use (reader gets drunk)

Nothing annoyed you like being surrounded by stylists and being primped and prodded for hours at a time. It made you feel claustrophobic to be touched so much: makeup artists only inches from your face, tailors watching you change, hairstylists nearly spraying you in the eye or burning you on the forehead every few minutes.

Not to mention how uncomfortable it was to actually be in the whole get-up once they were done.

But, such was the nature of a red carpet event. This one was going to be particularly bland because it wasn't even a premiere or awards event but a launch party for a perfume campaign. How lame is that? It's one of those things that really only exists so that there can be pictures of it to put in a magazine, because they're always running out of good pictures of celebrities to publish.

Finally all dolled up to the point that you didn't look even very much like yourself anymore, your assistant accompanied you downstairs and into your driveway where your car was waiting; and, more importantly, its driver and your driver, Bucky.

He was a gruff sort of guy; certainly a man of few words and many brooding glares. Sometimes you thought he didn't like you— like maybe he resented your fame or something— but then he'd turn around and be so sweet all of a sudden and you didn't know what to think. For one, he demanded to open the door for you every time you got out of the car. Sometimes he even extended his hand for you to grab on to, which was especially useful for red carpet events when you were usually wearing skinny heels that were impossible to balance on.

Such was the case tonight as well, and you smiled up at him as he helped you out of the car and up towards the steps of the venue.

"Thank you," you smiled at him, and he barely smiled back.

"Have a good night, madam," he suggested, a formal stuffiness to the way he addressed you.

You nodded, "You too!" That made you pause, though, because you weren't sure what his night would entail at all. "Say, what is it that you do when I'm at an event like this?"

He seemed confused by your question. "Um, I sit in the car and wait until you're ready to leave."

Guilt seared in your chest and you frowned. "That's it? You don't, like, go out? Catch a movie?"

"Nope. That would prevent me from doing my other job, which is watching the points of entry to make sure there aren't any threats to security going in."

"Right…" you trailed off. "You could always come in, you know, grab some free drinks and stuff."

"I thought you didn't want any of your team following you around at events."

"Yeah, don't follow me around, just mingle and kill some time!"

Bucky shook his head. "If I'm not there as your driver or as your security, then I'm not there."

You shrugged. "Suit yourself, but please feel free to, like, get some food or whatever you wanna do while I'm in there! Don't just wait on me!"

He smiled, but it looked a little rehearsed. "Thank you, madam."

You realized he'd been holding your hand through the entire conversation, cause you'd asked him your question midway through getting out of the car. Awkwardly, you finally dropped his hand and waved goodbye, escorting yourself up the last few steps and into the door.

God, he must think I'm such a freak.

God, she must think I'm such a freak.

Bucky munched on the sandwich he'd had delivered (yes, to the car, how else was he supposed to get it?) as he dutifully watched the entrance. Against your advice, he had every intention of just sitting around and waiting for you, but he wasn't bored; he had a Mets game on the radio to keep him company.

"— top of the third, bases loaded, DeGrom is at the plate with one swing left aaaaaand… he strikes out!"

"Shit," Bucky grumbled to himself around a mouthful of pastrami.

Glancing up, he saw someone stumbling out of the party: squinting, he realized it was you. He looked at the clock with a furrowed brow, noticing it was a little earlier than he'd thought you'd leave, but then he saw that there was someone with you… a guy.

Bucky set his sandwich down and turned the key in the ignition as he watched you pull your phone out of your clutch— ostensibly to text him to bring the car around, but he was already ahead of you, quickly exiting the parking lot and circling the building so he could pull up at the steps. He was about to get out to open the door for you but this random guy did it instead, before tumbling in after you.

"That tickles!" you protested with a giggle as your new friend started to kiss your neck, his hands all over you before Bucky had even gotten the car moving.

You were too drunk and distracted to notice that the partition was still open. Of course Bucky had considered closing it, in fact he wanted more than anything to close it so he wouldn't have to see this, but some sick part of his brain needed to see it. How else could he know if something went wrong and he had to get back there and stop it? How else would he keep you safe?

How else would he get to find out how you sound when you're being touched like this?

He couldn't see too well with it being the middle of the night and all, but every time he drove past a streetlamp or particularly bright neon sign, the colorful glow would shine in and cast light over your neck where your head had fallen back in pleasure; or your collarbones, exposed where your dress had been pulled down; or your chest, rising quickly with the speed of your panting breaths.

Ogling you in the rearview mirror made him feel like a total creep, but it satisfied a bit of the urge he'd been feeling ever since he started driving you. He wasn't actually a driver, at least not usually; he was more or less your bodyguard at this point, but you were really adamant about having a small detail and so that was why he was working double-duty tonight… and why he'd been doing so for almost three months now.

"Baby," you gasped, and his eyes shot right back to your reflection; you were writhing against the seat, and he could just barely see the top of the guy's head where it was buried between your legs. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, lips curling into a relaxed smile. His cock was not only hard but throbbing at this point, as if that was going to do him any good. He barely ever got to look at you, and he knew he would never, ever be able to touch you— beyond holding your hand as you stepped out of the car, at least. Whenever he did that, he imagined for a moment that he wasn't your driver at all but your date, that he would get to keep your hand as he guided you down the red carpet with him. Not that he wanted any of the attention that you got, of course, but at the same time he did like the idea of all those photographers snapping pictures of his arm around your waist, or you looking up at him with your hand on his chest. They'd all run stories wondering what a beautiful, successful, massively talented woman like you was doing with a guy like him, but he wouldn't find the energy to care about crap like that if he had you all to himself.

Another whimper from you pulled him out of his daydream, reminding him to focus on the road as best he could. He knew you would hate him if you knew that he'd thought about you like that. Or if you knew about all those times he'd checked in on you while you slept at night and lingered a bit too long. Or if you knew that he had rewatched that one sex scene you'd done in your last movie about a thousand times. It always broke his heart to see you underneath some other guy (his name was either Dermot Mulroney or Dylan McDermott or possibly Dermot McDermott?) and yet it turned him on like nothing else to watch you immersed in pleasure. Similarly, now, he couldn't stand knowing it was someone else making you moan the way he was hearing, but it was the best he was ever gonna get.

"Oh god," you sighed, "fuck, yes, yes, oh my god yes—"

His grip tightened on the steering wheel and it must have been the noise of the leather stretching that made you notice him; as if every dream and nightmare of his was coming true at once, your gaze met his in the reflection of the rearview.

He was so screwed, and he was totally going to get fired tomorrow, but he couldn't look away. Your eyes were like dark magic the way they pulled him in, kept him locked on you as his face started to burn so hot it could cook an egg.

Staring you down, he saw your mouth fall slack as your hands reached down to grab your date's hair and tighten into fists. Shivers shot down his spine as he imagined the way it would feel if you pulled his hair like that.

The longer you kept looking at him, the more a very dangerous thought danced in the back of his mind…

What if she wants me to watch?

Which, even more concerningly, started to slowly morph into another idea…

What if she wants me?

He was sure you were coming. It wasn't obvious; you didn't say anything, didn't moan too loud, didn't scream or sob or call out any names (which made it easier to pretend it was for him) but he could tell. Your swollen lips were parted silently as he watched your breath catch in your chest, and your hands clenched around fistfuls of hair. What he would give for you to pull his hair like that, and come for him like that— except he wouldn't have stopped there, unlike your current companion who was already moving back up your body to kiss you hungrily.

He'd always thought you had really pretty hands, and they looked pretty good sliding over the back of this guy's suit jacket, but he liked them best when they gently pushed him off. "We're almost there," you mumbled as Bucky turned the car into the driveway, using his fob to open the gate.

Once he'd come to a stop outside your door and turned off the engine, the three of you exited and stood up as you yawned and stretched.

"You'll take Jack here home, right?" you asked Bucky quickly.

"It's Jake…" the man corrected with hesitance.

"Right, Jake," you smiled, "you'll take him to his place, right?"

Bucky gave the guy a smile dripping with gloating contempt, loving the disappointed look he was wearing as he realized he wasn't going to be spending the night in your bed. "It'd be my pleasure," he announced coldly.

"Great, thanks," you sighed. Standing on your tiptoes to give the guy a kiss on the cheek and a pat on the shoulder, you thanked him for a great night and made your way into the house.

Jake looked around in confusion for a moment before getting back in the car along with Bucky, sighing and running his fingers through his hair.

"What address am I going to?"

"Uh, 333 15th Street, in Brooklyn," the guy replied, pausing to let out a soft but incredulous laugh as the car began to move. "Level with me, man: does she… do this kind of thing, a lot? You know: bring guys over, make it seem like something's gonna… happen, but then just send ‘em back home and never call again?"

With a silent glare, Bucky rolled up the partition.

You heard the front door, even from your current location of the shower upstairs, and knew Bucky was home— okay, not exactly ‘home’ since he didn't leave here full-time, but home in the sense that he was in your home and in the place he would be staying tonight. You just hoped he'd actually stopped the car before kicking Jake out; he never cared much for when you had guys over or really just interacted with guys at all, because of the "security risks" or whatever.

Next, you heard him coming up the stairs and passing by your door. "Hey, Bucky, you out there?" you called to him.

"Yeah, what is it?" he answered through the door. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I just—" you stopped when you heard the crinkling of paper. "What is that? Do you have food?"

"Um, yeah," he answered.

Your stomach growled; the event had only had tiny hors d'oeuvres, and the alcohol in your system enhanced your desire for a midnight snack. "What kinda food?"

"It's a sandwich— well, what's left of one: I was eating it while I waited for you."

"Are you gonna finish it?" you asked curiously.

"No, I was thinking I'd put it in the fridge for tomorrow."

You paused a bit before asking, "Can I have it?"

"Yeah, sure, you can get it in the morning—" he began.

"No, now!" you clarified.

There was a pause before he responded. "Right now? In the shower?"

"Yeah, just bring it in here!"

"I-I'll let you finish showering first—" he stammered.

"No, Bucky," you whined, "just come in here! I'm hungry!"

Another pause before he finally opened the door, his blurry figure visible through the steam-covered frosted glass.

"What's on it?" you asked as you washed the last of your shampoo out of your hair.

"It's pastrami on rye with jalapeños, fresh mozzarella, pesto and some sort of spicy aioli or something."

"Ooh, come to mama," you purred as you reached over the top of the door with opening-and-closing grabby hands, squeeing with glee when he placed the wax paper package in your grasp.

"Okay, enjoy your drunken shower sandwich," he congratulated grimly, about to turn and leave.

"No, wait, where'd you get this?" you asked as you leaned out of the stream of hot water to unwrap your bounty.

"Uh, you know the deli on 8th and Columbus?"

"You went all the way out there?"

"No, I had it delivered."

You snorted with laughter. "Couldn't leave me alone for even a minute, huh?"

"Well, I fully intended on leaving you alone for this shower."

But you didn't really notice that comment because you'd just taken a bite and couldn't stop yourself from moaning loudly around it. "Oh my god, Bucky, this is so good!"

He cleared his throat. "Uh, glad you like it."

"You have good taste in sandwiches!"

"I think the word for 'taste in sandwiches' is just 'taste,’” he pointed out, his smirk audible in his voice.

"Can we go to this place tomorrow and you can order for me?"

"We can do whatever you want tomorrow," he relented.

"If you drive, I'll pay,” you offered.

"I always drive. And you always pay,” he pointed out.

You frowned, not visible to him through the steamy glass. "I do?"

"You pay my salary, so, yeah…"

You laughed, a little too hard. "You're so smart!"

"Sure,” he replied quickly.

“Okay, I’m almost done in here,” you informed him.

“With the sandwich or the shower?”

You laughed with a little snort, which would’ve embarrassed sober you. “Both!”

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it then,” he replied, starting to go back out the door.

“See you tomorrow, Bucky,” you waved even though he couldn’t see it.

“I don’t know that I will,” he admitted, “you’ll probably be hungover and lock yourself in your room all day.”

“Hmm, possibly,” you agreed as you pondered that. “Then I guess just ‘goodnight,’ and I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Goodnight,” he replied and stepped out of the bathroom— you could hear him go downstairs and shut the door to his room, and you glanced down at the last bite of your/his sandwich with a smile.

You must have gotten in bed at some point, cause that was the last thing you could really remember before you woke up a bit before noon, bright orange sunlight shining directly on your face where it rested on the pillow. You groaned and turned over, feeling like your brain was too big for your skull. You sat up when you saw a menagerie of unfamiliar items on your nightstand. A bottle of pedialyte, a bottle of Fiji water, a few aspirin, an orange and a banana waited for you in a pile, with a little piece of paper sitting in front which you read.

Hope you’re feeling alright, these might help in the meantime. -B

You smiled, twisting open the Fiji and taking a sip. Bucky always took such good care of you, even in ways he didn’t need to. What would you do without him?

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x y/n

2K notes · View notes

professorrw · 3 years ago

Note

Hey could I please request a LokixReader story set on Sakaar where they have an enemies to friends to lovers relationship? Lots of fluff and smut if that’s okay. Thank you xxxx

Lord have mercy is this long. I love the request (probably a little too much). I have to warn you before reading, it's 6.6K words, the longest fic I've written yet. BUT I love it. I'm really proud of it!

Pairing: female reader x Loki

Requested: Yes

Warnings: smut, 18+, praise, unprotected sex, fingering, enemies to friends to lovers, fluff, fighting (Hulk and Thor), spoilers for Thor Ragnarok, takes place during Ragnarok

A/N: And with this finished I'm going to take a day to myself tomorrow! I'm not feeling very well and I want to catch up on my series because I've been neglecting it. Requests open, taglist open, inbox open! Please like, comment, and reblog!

You could ask anyone on Sakaar who the Grandmaster’s favorite person was and they would say it was you. You grew up on the trash planet with your father, who was a reject from his home planet. But on Sakaar you were basically royalty. Your father befriended the million year old Grandmaster when you were just two and from then on you were living in the lap of luxury.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been on Sakaar, but it had been a few hundred years. You didn’t look that old, more like twenty to thirty. But there was no way to be certain with the way that time worked on Sakaar.

Your life was perfect in your opinion. You and your father were happy and healthy on the trash planet. Every day you would dress in your finest silk robes, adorn your flashy face paint, and go to the arena to watch fights. When you weren’t doing that you were in your home or with the Grandmaster, who was basically a second father to you.

It was the end of the day and you were eating dinner with the Grandmaster, your father, and some other ‘royalty.’ As typical with all meals held by the Grandmaster it was full of excited and animated talking and extravagant food. You were too busy drinking your wine to engage in conversation, unlike your father who hadn’t touched his plate in favor of speaking to the man next to him.

Your father was a very social man, probably why the Grandmaster took such a liking to him. They were equally as flamboyant and outgoing. the Grandmaster often remarked how much you looked like your father. You had the same hair color, eye color and shape, and skin tone. Though you couldn’t tell your father’s true hair color anymore because it had started greying, contrary to the rest of his body that wasn’t aging as quickly.

There was a knock at the dining room door and the Grandmaster called for whoever it was to come in. The noise had drawn everyones’ attention, and all eyes were on the man that was being escorted in. He was tall, with fair skin and raven black hair. He was the most attractive man you had seen in a while. He didn’t look like a lot of the men you saw, but he still looked elegant.

“Who is this?” the Grandmaster asked.

Instead of waiting for the guards to speak, the detainee spoke, “I am Loki, God of Mischief and Prince of Asgard. I would like to say right now that it is a mistake imprisoning me and I will forget all about it if you let me go right now.” Loki spoke swiftly and with an accent foreign to many you heard normally. He had a very charming speech but you were in utter shock at the way he had spoken to the Grandmaster.

You expected the Grandmaster to order the guards to throw him in with the other gladiators and make him go against the champion, but he actually laughed, followed by everyone else in the room other than you.

“Well, Loki, I suppose I don’t need to make you fight. You can keep me company instead. How does that sound?”

It must not have been what Loki was expecting because he raised his eyebrows and said nothing for several seconds. “I think that would be fine,” he finally responded.

“Good, good. Why don’t you take that off him so he can pull up a chair?” the Grandmaster said to the guards. They did as he ordered and unshackled the dark haired man. As soon as he was free he grabbed a chair and planted right in between the Grandmaster and you. Loki sat down and gazed at you, offering a dazzling smile.

You squinted at him for a moment, sizing him up. You knew he was going to be trouble, to you at least.

“Ah Loki, please meet Y/N. She’s like a daughter to me,” the Grandmaster said to him.

“Hello Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His words were so obviously a lie that it made you scowl. You could hear the sarcasm seeping from his words. You could tell that he was already trying to butter up the Grandmaster. But in actuality he was trying not to get himself killed. Thor was nowhere to be found and he was on this planet by himself.

“Likewise,” you said back. You turned away from the men and started eating your meal, pointedly ignoring Loki as you did so. You could hear their conversation and it was almost impossible not to eavesdrop. The Grandmaster was mostly talking about himself, all things that you’d already heard before. Loki, when given the chance to talk, was just complimenting him in return.

When the meal was over and the dishes were collected the Grandmaster addressed your father. “My dear Holden, would you house my company for the time being?”

You whipped your head over to the Grandmaster. You couldn’t believe the words that had just come from his mouth. You couldn’t believe he was asking you and your father to let Loki stay with you. But your father being your father would have no problem with it. You just knew he was going to accept.

As you expected he said, “Why of course, the more the merrier.”

Your house was incredibly close to the palace. There really was no need for guards to escort you and your father home but the Grandmaster thought it was necessary. So after dinner you, your father, and Loki made your way to your home. It was very beautiful, and almost as grand as the palace itself, but much smaller.

Your father was in high spirits as usual. Once you were inside your father turned to Loki with a brilliant smile adorning his face. "We are delighted to have you. Please follow me, you can sleep here in the guest bedroom. Y/N is right next door so you can go to her if you need anything."

You looked at your father with a deadpan expression, which he didn't seem to notice. Loki on the other hand was positively beaming back at your father.

"Thank you so much for the hospitality. I really cannot thank you enough."

Your father chuckled, "It's no trouble at all. Any guest of the Grandmaster's is a guest of mine. So please, make yourself at home."

"Thank you again. I am quite tired so I think I'll be heading to bed. Goodnight Holden, goodnight Y/N." He bowed and went to his chambers without another word.

You looked incredulously at your father but he seemed to not have a care in the world. He was awfully aloof when it came to matters dealing with the Grandmaster. Your father and the Grandmaster had a complicated relationship. You really had no clue what was going on with them. They called each other dear and said they loved each other, but you had seen the Grandmaster and your father doing a fair share of flirting with many men and women.

You walked to your own room with a heavy sigh. You stayed up for a few hours that night wondering about the man next door.

You quickly realized that the Grandmaster had taken a liking to Loki. The next morning you, your father, and Loki were having breakfast with the Grandmaster and Loki was hanging onto every word that came out of the man's mouth. You just knew that Loki didn't care. But what you want to know are his intentions. He randomly shows up on your planet and instantly catches the Grandmaster's attention.

You spend most of the morning with your father, preferring his company to the Grandmaster and his new pet. The next time you saw him was at lunch. And just like at dinner the previous night Loki was sitting right next to the Grandmaster. Instead of enduring the empty compliments that were coming from Loki you decided to sit farther down the table next to another one of your father's friends.

"Hello Marridija," you said as you sat down. Marridija was a very kind woman. Kind and very up to date on all the goings on at the palace. It was no surprise that she was close to the Grandmaster.

"Why hello Y/N. You aren't sitting at the front of the table today?" Her drawn-on eyebrows drew in and she tilted her head to the side slightly, making you worry that her hair, which was styled heavily with spray to keep it straight up, would tip over and ruin. Over the many years on Sakaar you had grown accustomed to the wild fashion in the palace. Everyone in the Grandmaster's group wore metallic face paint and did their hair as tall and elaborate as possible.

Out of everyone at the table Marridija had the craziest hair and brightest makeup. She always made sure she was seen in a crowd. Her hair was bubble gum pink and looked like cotton candy on top of her head. Her makeup was many bright streaks of pink, blue, and gold.

"No, not today. I thought I might try something new."

"Oh. Well I'm delighted that you decided to sit by me. I've been meaning to ask-" her eyes cut from you to something over your shoulder before returning to talking, "about your company last night."

You clenched your jaw for a second before you answered her. "What would you like to know?"

"Well… the whole palace wants to know about this mysterious man. Loki, he said." She was speaking in a hushed voice so no one other than you could hear her. If anyone heard her they would most definitely be listening in. But Marridija was good at being quiet when she needed to be. She wanted to be the first with fresh gossip, and for that she would have to hear it before anyone else.

“There isn’t much to tell really. As soon as we got home he went off to his bedroom.”

The woman narrowed her eyes for a second before giving a huff. “Oh Y/N, you won’t give an old lady a bit of juice now will you?” Her face changed from a pout to a sly smile a few seconds after she said that. “Or is there something you don’t want to share with me? A secret of your own perhaps?”

“Absolutely not Marridija. What I’ve told you is the truth. I’m sorry I have nothing juicy enough for your ears.”

You turned away from the woman and forward towards the table and the meal being set in front of you. Through the whole of breakfast you remained silent, listening to the chatter around you. There always seemed to be something to talk about on Sakaar, but with Loki’s arrival and the Grandmaster’s liking towards him has made Loki the center of attention.

After breakfast the guests were clearing out of the dining hall. The Grandmaster had dismissed everyone and he and Loki were the last to leave. You stuck around and when the Grandmaster went to use the restroom and left Loki unoccupied you walked up to him. A smile appeared on his face as he saw your smaller frame scowling at him as you neared. For whatever reason he was quite enjoying how frustrated he was making you, though he didn’t know what exactly was making you mad.

“Hello Y/N,” he greeted.

“Don’t act all innocent. You’re up to something.”

Loki’s eyebrows shot up but his smile remained. “And what would that be?”

“Well I’ve come to find that out.” You crossed your arms and planted your feet in front of Loki. It wasn’t your best look but you wanted to intimidate him. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy. He was taller than you and obviously confident enough to tell the Grandmaster it was a mistake to imprison him.

“I’m sorry to burst your bubble, as they say, but I don’t have anything planned. I landed here by mistake.” Loki said the words so simply you just couldn’t believe it. If he was telling the truth then it would take more than that to convince you.

“And why should I believe you?”

“Well I suppose you shouldn’t. You don’t know me, you don’t know my past or all the things I’ve done. Maybe we could spend some time together and you’ll realize I’m being honest.”

Loki wasn’t entirely sure why he said that last part. He had never offered to let someone get to know him. But a part of him also wanted someone to be able to talk to since he was all alone on a planet he was an outsider on. And it helped that he thought you were incredibly attractive.

You on the other hand didn’t know what to make of his words. If you accepted you might be falling right into his trap, into his plan. But on the other hand maybe he was being genuine. It surely wouldn’t hurt to find out more about him. If he was lying then you could possibly find out his intentions. So you thought the only logical decision would be to accept.

“Fine. After dinner we’ll go to my home and we can… get to know each other. But only because I want to know if you’re telling the truth.”

He laughed, “Of course, of course. See you then.”

The door you were standing next to opened and the Grandmaster himself walked out. He clasped his hands together and a smile appeared on his face. “Y/N! Thank you for keeping Loki company. Are you two getting along?”

You and Loki glanced at each other. There was no way you were going to say no, both of you had common sense. So you both put on a smile and looked as comfortable as possible.

“We are!” Loki said first. He put a huge grin on his face and leaned towards you, draping an arm around your shoulder. The sudden touch almost made you recoil, but if you did that it would look strange to the man that had just questioned your relationship.

“Well Loki and I should be going. I’ll see you at supper gorgeous.” The Grandmaster wiggled his fingers at you with an award winning smile. Loki took his arm off you and started following after him when the Grandmaster began to walk away. A hole might have been burnt into the back of Loki’s head from your staring. He was so puzzling. Irksome even.

The footsteps eventually faded as they walked further and further away from you and closer to wherever it was they were going. Your own slippered feet padded against the floor of the palace as you made your way down to the bottom level, outside, and safely in your home. It was a shame that most of the people your age were bounty hunters. You were all in all lonely. Maybe that’s what led you to agree to getting to know Loki.

You assumed he was around your age. He claimed to be a god after all, so he must be more than the average person.

Dinner rolled around and you went to the palace to eat as you did everyday. Loki was there. Though you knew he would be. You weren’t used to his presence just yet, so every time you saw him you were still slightly surprised. You were used to being around the ‘royalty’ of Sakaar for years and attending the same mundane events all the time. Loki was something new, something fresh. That’s why he was such a buzz on Sakaar. Especially when he made such an impression on the Grandmaster.

After the meal you went home and waited for Loki. You knew he would have to tell the Grandmaster some excuse for him to leave, so he was going to be a few minutes behind you.

Ten minutes after you had arrived home the door opened and Loki walked in. You couldn't help but laugh when you saw the exasperated expression on his face. You knew just how tiring the Grandmaster could be. Upon hearing the ring of your laughter Loki smiled. It was the first time he heard you make that sound and thought it was beautiful.

He slung his hair out of his face and slid into the white bar stool next to you at the kitchen island. You already had two glasses of champagne ready for the two of you. Assuming you would need it.

"What did you have to tell him to let you leave?" you asked, raising the glass to your lips.

"Well I told him I was tired and he just laughed it off then I said I was having an upset stomach and wasn't doing so well down there and he let me go."

Neither of you could hold back laughter. You were the first to start cracking up and seeing your reaction influenced Loki's joyous noise. The atmosphere was smooth and laid back. In preparation you had a drink beforehand, hence why you were so calm. Loki's smile and infectious attitude were also to blame.

In the time span of lunch and coming home you realized how ridiculous you were being. You had only just met Loki yesterday and you were already trying to accuse him of trying to harm the creator of your planet.

Once the laughter had died down you set your glass on the countertop and turned to Loki. "I'm sorry for how I've acted towards you. I haven't treated you fairly or given you a chance at all. I started jumping to conclusions and that was wrong of me. So I'm sorry, I hope you can forgive me."

“Wow- I- Yes I can forgive you. I understand where you were coming from. You care about the Grandmaster and don't want him to be in danger. I think that’s very noble of you.” The corners of Loki’s eyes crinkled up as he looked at you with a soft smile.

“Well… thank you. I’m glad we’re on good terms.” You gave him an awkward smile and took another sip of your drink. Loki picked up his own and took a sip of it.

"So your father and the Grandmaster… are they together?" he asked once his glass was empty.

“I’m not entirely sure. They’re relationship is complicated. I know they call each other love and darling but they also flirt and do things with other people too.” You cringed at the memory of coming home and hearing your father with one of his friends. But beside you Loki let out a chuckle. He was really enjoying getting to see this new side of you.

With a final tip of your flute you had finished your drink. Looking over you realized that Loki had too, so you stood and refilled it.

“I just realized I didn’t ask you if you wanted another glass,” you said when you had finished pouring.

He waved you off. “Don’t worry, I do.”

You slid his flute across the counter and leaned on it, not bothering to go back around to sit on the stool again. “So, you said that you ended up here by accident… what did you mean by that?”

“Ah, trying to find out if I’m lying again? I thought this was behind us,” he said.

“I’m not asking because of that. It is behind us. I want to know more about you and what you were doing before you got to Sakaar.”

He nodded. “Well I was with my brother. Though I don’t know why he hasn’t gotten here yet.”

“Time works differently here,” you interjected. “So if you both came through at the same time he might get here later than you did.”

“Ah okay, well that explains it then. Anyways, I was with my brother, Thor. My sister, Hela, has cast us out of Asgard and we need to get back there and defeat her. We don’t stand a chance though,” he explained.

“If you need help getting there then I’m sure my father and I can be of assistance.”

“I think I should wait for Thor to arrive, whenever that is…” he trailed off.

“He could show up any day. But while you’re here you can hang out with me.” “When you’re not with the Grandmaster that is,” you added.

“I don’t know how often I’ll be able to get away from him but I’ll definitely try.”

The last drops of your champagne slid down your throat as you smiled against your glass. You were really looking forward to getting to spend time with Loki.

For the next few days after that you guys were together any chance you got. The Grandmaster was keeping Loki close, but he was able to make up excuses to come see you when he could. Loki was like a breath of fresh air in your life. His life was a lot different than yours, but you found yourselves relating in multiple ways.

Every time you two were together all you could do was smile. It was like you had found your first true friend. But you knew that when Thor came that Loki would be leaving. Even though it was wrong you hoped that Thor wouldn’t arrive for a while just so you could have more time together.

It was a little over a week since Loki had arrived and you were laying next to each other on your leisure ship, staring up at the stars.

“It’s beautiful, everything here is,” Loki whispered. You were looking straight above you but when Loki was speaking he had turned his head towards you.

“It’s strange isn’t it? It’s called the trash or garbage planet but it’s dazzling if you take the time to look around.” When you finished speaking you rolled your head to the side to look at Loki. The whole time you were speaking he was memorizing every part of your face with a smile on his own. When you saw him smiling you shyly smiled too.

Without you realizing Loki reached his hand over and found yours. When he did he took it and interlocked your fingers. You looked down at your entwined hands. Your heart was racing and butterflies were filling your stomach.

No words were spoken, it was just the two of you underneath a blanket of twinkling stars wishing for something more. Loki’s hand was warm in yours, and you wished that same warmth would envelop your whole body. You scooted over closer and closer to the man until he wrapped his arm around you.

“This is nice,” you mumbled against his chest.

“It is. I like having you in my arms,” Loki whispered back.

You let your eyes close and the warmth and blissful feeling take over you. You woke up in bed, wrapped up in your covers. The sun was shining and filtering through your windows and splaying out on your floor. You thought back to last night and remembered you must have fallen asleep, which meant Loki must have taken you home and carried you to bed.

You walked out of your bedroom and stood right outside your door. You weren’t sure what time it was. It was morning that was obvious. Maybe it was early enough that Loki hadn’t been summoned by the Grandmaster yet. You walked over to the bedroom next to your own and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Loki called out.

You opened the door and gently shut it back when you entered. Loki was still in bed but he was awake.

“Good morning beautiful,” he greeted you.

A tired smile went across your face as you sat down on Loki’s bed. He reached out to you and pulled you into him, setting you flush against his frame and placing a kiss on top of your head.

“How did you sleep?” he asked.

“I slept well. Thank you for bringing me back home.”

“It was my pleasure.” Loki tilted his head down and kissed the top of your head once more. His actions were so sweet you were feeling things you had never felt before. It was wild to you how quickly you had fallen for the God of Mischief.

After laying together for a few minutes there was a knock at the front door. You sighed and got out of Loki’s bed. The guards had arrived to escort Loki and you to breakfast with the Grandmaster. You both hurriedly got dressed and left to start your day.

For another two weeks things ran smoothly. You were happy. Loki was making you happy. But you knew that the day that Thor would arrive was approaching. It had been three weeks since Loki himself had fallen onto the planet, meaning his brother was not far behind.

You were sitting with Loki and mingling with other people in one of the palace rooms when Scrapper 142 announced she found someone. 142 was Grandmaster’s favorite scrapper. She brought him his champion after all. The person she had brought came into the room in the usual reinforced chair that all contenders usually did.

Loki was sitting next to you not paying any attention and neither were you until the man started yelling Loki’s name. You looked at him with confusion before you realized, it must be Thor.

When Thor finally got Loki’s attention he immediately stopped talking and got up. They were whispering back and forth fervently until the Grandmaster came up to them and interjected. They talked for a minute before Thor was thrown into the holding area for gladiators.

“That was your brother wasn’t it? Thor?” you asked when Loki came back over to you.

“Yes, yes it was.” He lowered himself back onto the couch and stayed quiet.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just… wasn’t expecting him.”

“Oh, okay.” You nodded. Not only did you understand but you felt the same way. You hoped maybe Thor would show up later, and give you more time. But no. He was there and when given the chance he was definitely going to leave. But that wouldn’t be too soon. If he was fighting the Grandmaster’s champion he may never leave. You had seen the green monster in action and he was brutal.

Later that day you and Loki were sitting in the upper class stands at the Grand Arena watching the fights. Loki was constantly wiping his palms on his pants and his leg was bouncing up and down. He had never seen the champion fight but you had told him how ferocious he was and that made Loki nervous.

The Grandmaster announced Thor and when he came out onto the dirt the crowd was filled with ‘boos’ and other jeers. The ring around the bottom of the stadium begins to rise to accommodate the height of Thor's opponent and the Grandmaster started to announce him.

“Ladies and gentlemen I give you… your Incredible…” he trailed off, or at least you thought he did because before he could say the actual name the fighter burst through the doors and yelled, “HULK!”

The blood drained from Loki’s face next to you. “I’ve got to get off this planet,” he mumbled.

“Why what’s wrong?” you asked, worried.

“The Grandmaster’s champion is an Avenger, just like Thor. And he’s defeated me.”

Down on the dirt Thor had looked up into your box and was yelling, “We know each other! He’s a friend from work.”

The Grandmaster’s mouth dropped open and he looked over at Loki, who was staring straight forward and clearing his throat.

Thor was making small talk with Hulk before you heard him look over and shout again, “Loki! Look who it is!”

You’d never seen Loki so nervous and afraid. You reached over and placed a hand on his arm. “It’ll be okay.”

Down below Hulk was tired of hearing Thor talk and started running towards him. The fight was in full force and Loki was getting more nervous by the second. Hulk was in it to win it, and he wasn’t sure if his brother would be able to make it out. Surprisingly Thor was able to hit Hulk, sending him all across the barrier on the arena. The crowd was silent as Thor neared Hulk. He placed his hand in Hulk’s massive one and started speaking, but you couldn’t tell what he was saying.

They weren’t fighting and everyone was still and watching. Then Hulk grabbed Thor and swung him back and forth, hitting him against the ground countless times. Loki jumped up, startling you, and shouted, “Yes that’s how it feels!”

The Grandmaster looked over at him questionably and Loki responded with, “I’m just a huge fan of the sport.” The Grandmaster didn’t say anything, just turned back toward the arena and laughed.

Loki sat back down and you looked at him with your eyebrows raised, “What was that about?”

“Well… Hulk did that to me a few years ago.”

“Really?” you laughed.

“Yes. It wasn’t one of my finest moments,” he chuckled. You both settled back down on the couch and focused on the match again. The fight progressed and favor switched between Hulk and Thor for a minute or two. The Grandmaster and Loki were leaning in and cringing depending on the blow and who it had landed on. But things weren’t looking good for Thor. Hulk had him pinned down and was beating him to death.

Blow after blow was pounding down right on Thor’s face. Then something happened. You strained your eyes to see that Thor’s eyes began to glow and lighting began to glow and crackle all around his body. He seemed to gather his strength for a second, wind back his hand and land a punch right to Hulk, sending him flying with an arch of lightning, resulting in a collective gasp from the stands.

Hulk collapsed yards away from Thor. The Grandmaster raised out of his seat, stepped forward and stared at the scene below you. The crowd was murmuring and whispering all kinds of things. You looked over at Loki, who had his elbows propped up on his knees with his mouth wide open.

Thor and Hulk both stood up and ran towards each other, jumping and then hitting one another. It was like a mini-explosion where Thor’s fist collided with Hulk. You were on the edge of your seat. It seemed like Thor could win. The crowd sure seemed to think so because they were chanting, “Thunder! Thunder! Thunder!”

Your full attention was drawn on the arena and a perplexed expression crossed your face when Thor violently shook and then fell to the ground. You looked around and saw the Grandmaster pointing his activator down at Thor, activating his Obedience Disk. You couldn’t believe it. If the Grandmaster wouldn’t have interfered then Thor could have won. He could be freed.

The Grandmaster stood up with a smile and started his projection onto the center of the arena, “Well done! Well done! Two very good fighters, but it looks like my champion has defended his title once again. Thank you everyone for attending today, I hope to see you at the next battle!”

His projection disappeared and people started to file out of the stands. You could tell by the silence that followed that the Grandmaster wasn’t too happy. He walked out of the room followed by guards, leaving everyone else alone. Loki was leaning back on the couch next to you slack-jawed.

“That wasn’t fair,” you breathed out.

He shook his head, “No, no it wasn’t.”

“At least he didn’t die. He should be okay for now,” you said, talking about Thor.

“Thank god.”

You and Loki returned home and sat down on the living room couch. You never got the chance to talk about Thor’s arrival but now no one else was around.

“You might be leaving soon,” you said.

“I may.” Loki reached his hand over and took one of yours in his. You couldn’t mistake the sadness in his voice.

“I won’t make you stay. If you need to go then you should.” You looked at Loki with pure earnestness in your eyes. It hurt to say it, but if Loki and his brother needed to leave then you didn’t want to be the reason they didn’t.

“Y/N I don’t want to go. I want to stay here… with you.”

“What about your sister? Didn’t you say she was trying to take over Asgard, your home?” you questioned with a soft voice.

“Yes but- we don’t stand a chance. If we go we’ll only die. There’s no hope for us.”

You faced your whole body towards him and dipped your head down so Loki could see your face. “You don’t know that. You’re strong and I know you aren’t a coward.”

He stayed quiet but squeezed your hand and met your eyes.

“If you need to go, don’t let me hold you back,” you repeated.

Loki strained up and gave a stern look forward as he nodded his head. “You’re right. I do need to go. Asgard is my home.” He bent his head towards you and spoke, “But I want to make my time with you count.” He leaned in and tilted his head, eyes trained on your lips. You also leaned in and closed your eyes, letting yourself dissolve into the tender kiss.

It heated up quickly, pants filling the air between you every time you parted. You crawled on top of him, straddling his lap. His hands glided from your shoulder blades to your butt, caressing you.

You pulled away and opened your eyes for a second, your face only inches from his. “Should we take this to my room?”

“Yes, we should.” Loki raised up, holding you in his arms and carrying you to your room. You slid out of his arms right in front of the foot of your bed. He started undressing, pulling off his cape, boots, and other components of his complicated outfit. Yours was much easier to get off. All you did was kick off your slippers and undo your dress in the back and let it pool at your feet.

The whole process took a few minutes and you giggled when you had to help Loki undress.

“This is a mood killer,” Loki sighed.

“It’s okay,” you giggled. You pulled off the last garment including Loki’s underwear and he turned around to let you see him. He was so beautiful, every single thing about him. You could definitely believe he was a god, because he sure looked like one. Your wandering eyes made him chuckle, but he couldn’t say anything because he was doing the same.

His hands hovered over your hips, almost like he was afraid to touch you or else you would crumble in front of him. You smiled up Loki and put your hands over his, guiding them to your bare skin. He sharply inhaled as he felt how smooth and warm your skin was. He let out a small laugh in disbelief. He couldn’t imagine himself ever being so lucky as to have you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss you. He lifted you up again and walked over to your bed until his knees hit the edge. He crawled on and lowered you down onto the fluffy pillows. Your body was on display for him and he was completely swooning over you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in awe.

“And you,” you reached up and pulled him closer to you by his shoulders, “are very handsome.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your cheek. Since he was already down there he crept lower and lower, placing gentle kisses from your cheek all the way down to your lower stomach. Your breath hitched as his breath fanned over your vagina. He gave it a small kiss before he leaned back. He replaced his mouth with his fingers, sliding them up and down your folds before inserting one.

He surveyed your face as he began to curl his finger making you start moaning quietly.

“Does it feel good?” he asked tentatively.

“Yes,” you moaned out.

He smiled and continued to work you up, building the pressure inside your lower stomach. You couldn’t keep your eyes open. You tried to, but with all the new feelings going on you were squeezing them shut. Loki frowned and cupped your cheek with his hand, rubbing it with his thumb.

“Princess, will you look at me?” he asked. You opened your eyes and did as he asked. You kept your eyes open but your lids were only half open.

You loved the way his fingers felt but you wanted more- you wanted him. “Loki- Loki I want you inside me.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

He pulled his fingers out and wrapped that hand around his cock, pumping it and getting it ready to be inside you. He spread your legs further than they already were and walked forward on his knees until his tip was right against your entrance. You put his hand around it and guided it in slowly, letting you adjust to the length.

Your hands were on either side of your pillow and you were squeezing it. It wasn’t very painful, but it didn’t feel right to just have your hands open, so you clenched them around your silk pillowcase. Loki saw them and put his own hands on top of yours. As he rolled his hips into you that’s what kept him stable.

“Darling, you make me feel-” he moaned, “so good.”

The inside of you was warm and velvety, encasing his dick in a personal heaven. In just a few minutes he knew what was going to come. Him.

Loki was making you feel just as good as you were making him, if not better. You weren’t a virgin. You had lived long enough to want men and take them back home with you. But none of them were making you feel the way Loki was. He knew exactly what to do, what pace to go at, and all the right words to say. The gentle moans and vulnerable face were so beautiful above you that tears were staining your cheeks.

Worry crossed Loki’s face, he thought you were hurting. “Are you okay?” he asked quickly.

“I’m fine, you’re just- you’re so beautiful.”

He choked out a laugh and regained his original pace. The compliment had warmed his entire body. He was on cloud nine. There was a growing sensation in his lower region and he could feel his orgasm coming.

“I’m about to cum,” he panted.

“Go ahead darling, cum for me,” you returned. His eyes widened but he went ahead, cock stiffening before releasing his cum.

You moaned, head falling to the side from the buzz traveling through your body. You arched your back in an attempt to hurry your own orgasm along. You could feel it approaching but it couldn’t get there soon enough for you. Loki thrusted faster and tried to hit that spot that he knew you had. He succeeded, and an overwhelming pleasure drifted through you.

Your walls clenched around his dick and your own juices squirted out. You sniffed and wiped your tears, opening your eyes to see Loki’s face in complete and utter amazement. You laughed a little as he pulled out of you and rolled over to be by your side.

“What was that face for?” you asked.

“That was the best I’ve ever felt. You are… perfect in every way.”

“I feel the same about you.” You turned on your side and placed a hand on his cheek, just like he had done to you a few minutes prior.

He nuzzled closer to you, putting his face in the crook of your neck. “I’ll come back for you. I promise,” he whispered.

“I’ll be waiting,” you responded while stroking his hair.

Taglist: @deanscroissant

306 notes · View notes

bangtanpromptsfics · 4 years ago

Text

hyacinth. (m)

dialogue prompt #3: “Your tutor is so hot”

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: f2l(?), light smut

word count: 1,540

warnings: heavy making out, grinding, blonde!jk

summary: you think your new tutor at school is hot and jungkook is determined to change that

a/n: another mature oneshot. I basically die from embarrassment while writing smut lol.

masterlist

“Your tutor is so hot”. Jungkook turns around to your attention so fast he could probably snap his neck.

“Mr. Seokjin? ”, he knows who you are talking about. The new personality development tutor of your school, more like the entire population’s crush at this point. And Jungkook hated him just for the same reasons, it seems petty but he can't help himself.

“Go fuck him then”, he snorts, swinging his back pack from one shoulder to another while you grin. Almost as on queue, Seokjin appears on the hallways and passes a smile towards all the students.

“Oh yes. Look at that a--”

“I guess that's enough for today, come on we gonna get late”, he grabs your arms and pushes you forward to move, having enough of your daily ranting about angelic beauty and who the hell laughs at some dad joke?

“When were you ever interested in math Kook?”, you tease him, resisting him to walk slower, “Oh are you perhaps… jealous!? ”

“I'm not jealous. You are annoying”, he shoots cold face.

“Hey! I'm just saying he's attractive you don't have to be so mean about it”, you whine, hitting his arm.

You see, the fact that Seokjin stole Jungkook’s high school heartthrob position in two days is one thing, but he never expected you to act the same, especially when you were so different from most students on the campus. In fact he is shocked to see you crushing on someone. You despised people in general and he kept wondering what's there in their teacher to be so lurk about because he honestly doesn't see anything.

“He's old. And everyone knows he has a girlfriend, you guys dumb or what? ”, Jungkook teases back.

“Doesn't mean I can't praise a beautiful human”

“So he's the only attractive guy in the school? ”, he's curious now and also lowkey wants to find out if you had felt anything like this about himself.

Jungkook knew he was hot. He knew he could destroy Seokjin's reputation with one different hair color but that's too much drama over nothing. As if there isn't ten assignment waiting for him at home. Yeah he got better things to do.

“Nope”, comes your immediate answer. And man that hurt. You are smart and cocky and it would be cool to know someone like you finds him attractive, but you just hurt his ego.

“Not even me? ”, he asks, all squeaky and with a small pout and you return him a smile.

“See you at 7 Kook”

____

School ends at 5, and thankfully both of your residence are nearby and there's a party hosted by Jimin at his house which is a five minute drive so Jungkook has roughly one hour and fourty five minutes to make an appearance to the party. And by appearance he means to look absolutely endearing. He's never the type to bang a lot of chicks, he didn't even need to do anything than to wear a black tee and jeans to a party and could still get laid. If he wanted sex, he can have that any time he wants.

But today is different.

He's never been this eager to be at a gathering, took time to pick outfits and oh dye his hair. He has never experimented with hair colors except that one time he tried red and got famous by the name ‘cherry head’ in the entire locality.

You of course give yourself the usual thirty minutes to do slight makeup and wear shorts with oversized tee styled enough to merge into the party. And boy you have no idea what you are going to witness today.

Jungkook arrives ten minutes late because the highlights took time to dry off. He styles them, but not too much. He still wanted to look effortlessly handsome and got that long abandoned shear black shirt with blue jeans.

“Woah is that Jungkook!?”, some girls whisper beside the bar you are currently seated at and you turn around, only to feel a pang to your chest. Fuck. A completely look through shirt with fucking tight blue denim is he fucking kidding? And blonde hair? Yeah it's that complete ‘drool over me bitches’ package.

You suddenly feel self aware of how simple you looked. He should have given a heads up because one needs several business days to process blonde Jungkook. He seemed unrecognizable.

“Woah… What's up with this new look!?”, you approach finally. Many people eye him shamelessly in your peripheral vision which is pretty much obvious.

“Nothing. Just felt like it”, he grins, having won you. Jungkook is not attractive who? Yeah he bets Seokjin will never pull off this look.

“You like it? ”, and he undoes first two buttons, exposing a bit of his toning straight to your eyes. Is he fucking teasing? You want to confront him because he's acting weird. But you don't know if this is because you feel different around him.

“Y-yeah… It's good”, you tug a smile.

“Wanna dance?”, he asks and you nod, taking your hand to the dance floor. Most people are wasted but both of you are not. So when you feel him touching more than usual, you are absolutely aware that it's not an accident.

He holds you so close all the time, as if it's something you do daily. Fuck.

“Hold me like this”, he says out of nowhere and throws your hand behind his neck. He knows what he's doing. And you are aware too, but too weak in knees to retract. You hate that you are actually enjoying this and he loved it.

“Y/n….”, he whispers to your ear, tucking a strand of your hair behind it, “Can I kiss you love? ”

Your nod is so soft and innocent before you give in. Most people who were looking forward for Jungkook’s company give up and hook up with other guys around because they know he isn't here for anybody else.

He flushes your hips against his as he kisses you, obviously tongue all the way. He doesn't know why but he wanted to shut your mouth exactly like this whenever you swooned over Seokjin. And he is most certain that all those memories are perished along with the kiss.

He pulls your bottom lip out and looks into your eyes and grinds his hip on yours, and you moan lowly. He internally curses at how sweet you sounded.

“Come with me”. He pulls you out of the crowd and into a private cubicle where people usually make out. And thankfully there was one vacant.

But he isn't quick to act once inside the space. He takes his time to lock the door and to sit at that one chair in the centre, manspreading luxuriously for you to see.

You never did anything like this with Jungkook. It was not like you had friend zoned him, you actually don't know why, all these years you spent casually flirting and shrugging off with each other, and now you can't wait to devour him.

You make your way to his lap and sit right on his hips, sighing at the contact. He grabs the back of your head and pushes it towards him. His other hand taps your butt to continue grinding which you happily do so.

He continues exploring your skin, hooking his hands on your shirt and rubbing circles at the skin there. Feeling his cold hands, you move to undo two more of his buttons to get a peak of his pecs, something you wanted to do the moment you saw him.

He moans into your mouth when your movements start to get him worked up, feeling high and ecstatic. Even with the denim shorts on, the dent on his pants was enough to get you close to orgasm.

“J-Jungkook… ”, you trail off, head slightly falling back which he catches.

“Go on love, almost there”. Fuck. You loved it when he called you names, but this one was, exceptionally very much turning you on.

He detaches his mouth to suckle on your collar bone, exposing it by pulling your t shirt slightly down. It becomes all too much, and you focus on the knot forming at your stomach.

Jungkook stops kissing you, indicating he's chasing his high several moments after yours, glad that both opted for thick denims as bottoms to cover the mess you made.

“We should've done this way before”, you imply, separating the strands of his hair sticking to his forehead.

“We could've, but you were busy drooling over some teacher”, he smugs.

“So you were jealous! ”.

Unfortunately his cocky being doesn't have an answer for that so he dodges it with another long kiss, breaking off with a loud smooch.

“God I can kiss you forever Y/n…”

“And...then? ”, you ask your confusion. You don't know what's your relationship with Jungkook is anymore, now that you had made out with him.

“... then… maybe you'll fall in love with me?”

“See you at the party Kook”, you peck the corner of his lips and get off his lap. After taking a moment to fix your outfit, you leave the cubicle.

And Jungkook knew exactly what he was going to do.

Thank you so much for reading!! ♡

293 notes · View notes

philipkindreddickhead · 4 years ago

Text

I often seen critiques of make up from an existential/philosophical perspective, but I rarely see criticism of cosmetics from a stand point of the very physical bodily harm it does. I think this is because the number of dangerous ingredients is so massive, and overlapping its an absolutely daunting task. So I've compiled the information I've found and bear with me its a lot. (This is from an American perspective. Sorry, thats what I know. However I would love it if people from other countries had things to add.)

First I want to get the "simple" stuff out of the way. I think almost everyone has heard about bacteria and fungi in makeup and that makeup causes acne from clogging pores. Makeup has a pretty strict shelf life, yet consumers are entirely supposed to self-police as Ive never seen a single expiration date on any cosmetic packaging. (I guess consumers are meant to pull this knowledge out of the ether or something. I only found out about it in a tumblr PSA. I did read that expirys are on products in Europe.) Beauty blenders are the worst offender because theyre almost always moist. When I was taught makeup I was told to wet my sponge so it would soak up less product. If you apply makeup daily your sponge is likely constantly damp. USA Today had an article which said that 96% of sponges had fungi and over 60% had E. Coli in them. But I think what people talk about less is the complication of problems from using other products in conjunction with dirty beauty blenders. USA Today warns its especially dangerous to use beauty blenders if you have damage to your skin like acne, cuts, or dry skin. However the most popular beauty products for washing your face contain walnut pieces for literally scrubbing your skin and creating microabrasions. If youre a frequent makeup user you probably know about the cyclical nature of applying foundation, breaking out, and then applying more foundation to cover the breakout. You may even be using scrubbing cleansers more frequently to combat the acne creating more tears. This can lead to "blood poisoning" and, though neither USA today or Forbes mentions this, blood poisoning (not a medical term btw. Its sepsis.) according to numerous medical sites has the potential to be extremely lethal. The symptoms are so similar to a regular flu its nearly impossible to self-diagnose.

The very first thing I was told when a friend handed me a jar of finishing powder- popular with many beauty gurus for the "baking" technique and considered a must have- was a joke about "clown lung." This was a reference to the main ingredient talc. Talc causes lung problems including cancer and respiratory illness. If anyone remembers the large Johnson and Johnson lawsuit from 2019 it was because theyd been putting talc into baby powder. Talc is dangerous because it's impossible to mine and seperate from ASBESTOS. Some high-end finishing powders will try to sell you on safe talc-free formulas but all the products I looked into contained mica instead which causes pneumoconiosis, colloquially known as "black lung disease." Like fucking coal miners get. Its not just present in finishing powder either. In my research it turned out that talc/asbestos are also present in many eyeshadows and other powder products. [Googleable, evidenced in J&J lawsuit]

Another industry to examine is nail salons. Toluene, Formaldehyde, Dibutyl Phthalate, and Methacrylate compounds are all dangerous ingredients and present in various salon products. These ingredients cause a range of problems from dizziness, drowsiness, birth defects, slow fetal growth, future intellectual disabilities in the fetus, eye skin and throat irritation, coughing, allergic reactions, asthma-like attacks, short-term memory loss, nausea, dermatitis, cancer, and misscarriage. Some nail products advertise that they are 3-free meaning that toluene, formaldehyde, and DP should be absent but often the labels are found to be completely inaccurate. It should be noted that the risk is mainly to salon workers and not patrons but ask yourself if it is right to place other people at serious risk for your aesthetic. OSHA does make an attempt to mitigate these risks however not once in my years of makeup queen did I see a salon following these directives which include constant air monitoring, half mask respirators with chemical cartridges, gloves, long sleeves, and safety glasses. (And Im not even going to touch issues of human trafficking/slave labour out of nail salons one case of which occured 5 days ago two hours away from me) It should also be noted that formaldehyde can also be found in hair relaxers and hair dyes. [Found articles in Scientific American and NYT]

I also found on the FDAs website that many cosmetics include heavy metals like arsenic, mercury, and lead. (Usually accompainied by a picture of lipstick so I assume that is the product most likely to contain it, however campaign for safe cosmetics lists foundation as containing heavy metals, and The Guardian has an article about skin lighteners from Asia and Africa containing mercury.) The website stated that the amount of these heavy metals in cosmetics is "safe" if used as intended. (and I'm going to come back to the concept of "intended use" later because thats a can of worms too) However, when searching for info on heavy metal safety I found this quote in regards to metals in food:

"Certain metals, such as arsenic, lead and mercury, have no established health benefit, and have been shown to lead to illness, impairment, and in high doses, death. Understanding the risk that harmful metals pose in our food supply is complicated by the fact that no single food source accounts for most people’s exposure to metals in foods. People’s exposure comes from many different foods containing these metals. Combining all of the foods we eat, even low levels of harmful metals from individual food sources, can sometimes add up to a level of concern"

So like, which is it? Is it a "safe amount" or is no amount of metal safe? I understand that in the case of certain foods like fish some amount of mercury poisoning is always expected but fish is also something you feed yourself and nourish your body with while cosmetics are completely unecessary to your survival. The mercury problem in fish is also mitigated by health warnings when mercury levels are particularly high but cosmetics have no such warning. Another warning on the site indicated that children should ingest NO amount of lead AT ALL because it is particularly harmful for kids yet theres no effort to stop children from using lead-containing cosmetics. I worked next to a Five Below where I was shocked to find they sold Jeffree Star and Anastasia eyeshadow dupes for five dollars which amounts to fucking pocket change for a lot of kids and kids do buy that stuff. I also think its ironic the FDA would have anything to say regarding cosmetics because in the very same article about heavy metals in cosmetics the FDA says that they DO NOT REGULATE cosmetics beyond the color additives.

Mascara, eyeliner, lipstick, and brow tint often contain carbon black. This is a color additive that is an incomplete combustion of carbon-based products. It can cause lung disease, cancer, and organ system toxicity, and eye, nose, throat irritation. The effects are mainly studied in rats and those at biggest risk are industrial workers but why do other workers have to endure lung problems for something so unecessary? [Easily googleable, NIH, CDC, WHO Europe]

This next bit I only want to mention briefly because I didnt find any particularly reputable sources about it, but its a claim that cropped up repeatedly and I think its an interesting one. Parabens, estrogen, phthalates (again), and pesticides in cosmetics are apparently linked to endocrine disorders and hormone dysregulation. Im not entirely sure what is meant by this accusation. Endocrine disorders include female diseases like PCOS and possibly endometriosis. None of these diseases is very well studied and the female endocrine system itself is not well studied either. Im not saying "cosmetics cause PCOS" because we dont know if PCOS or these other endocrine/hormonal disorders are genetic or environmental or both (it appears that PCOS is largely genetic and Endometriosis is likely autoimmune related) AND we dont appear to know for sure that cosmetic ingredients cause endocrine disorder. But I include anyway for a number of reasons:

If you happen to struggle with hormonal problems you may want to know cosmetics is a potential environment factor.

These conditions are incredibly painful. It will be a battle getting your doctor to even acknowledge that pain for diagnosis. PCOS is linked to diabetes, and heart disease. [Thanks @mother-of-pearl ] There is no cure and the treatments are often throwing hormonal birth control at it and hoping for the best.

I dont anticipate the link between cosmetics and endocrine disorders being studied any time soon or any endocrine disorders studied at all because the medical/scientific field is sexist. I dont want women to suffer in the mean time.

Now again, take this with a grain of salt because I couldnt find scientific or news sources for it. Dont fucking come for me. Im not gonna respond to you. [Most reputable source was a paper from the library of medicine at the national institutes of health but it was behind a paywall and I dont have 39 dollars to be right on tumblrdotcom]

Avoiding these ingredients is not as simple as scanning the label for them. As many beautubers and the community are no doubt aware considering multiple scandals over veganism. Products advertised as vegan or cruelty free but contain non-vegan carmine or are sold in China which legally requires the products to be animal tested. Cosmetic companies will hide ingredients claiming they are "trade secrets" or they will be placed under "fragrance." Many ingredients will be known by six or seven different names and asking consumers to be aware of seven different names for multiple ingredients requires consumers to be aware of innumerable different, often complicated ingredient names. I shouldnt have to point out that's a ridiculous burden to place on women. The EU banned 1,300 hazardous ingredients that the US did not. Cosmetic companies rely on women being unwilling/unable to bring in a list of 1,300 ingredients- with multiple names- every time they pop in to the drug store, sephora, or wherever. Buying "natural" products will not help you either. Theres no established criteria for natural/organic in costmetics, the FDA doesnt test these products, and "natural"=/= safe anyway. Plenty of plants and minerals are poisonous. One good example is traditional kohl products which advertise their natural status but also naturally contain lead and reiterating that natural powders contain mica. US courts are rarely on the side of consumers either. I found an interesting lawsuit against St. Ives for their apricot scrub taken to court for their "dermatologist tested" label despite it causing breakouts and cuts to the skin. The courts ruled that this label was fine because it only indicated that the product was TESTED not APPROVED by dermatologists. However I think any rational consumer would look at this label and assume the tests concluded it was safe for use or else why put the label on there?

[Googlable XMONDO drama, googlable laws wrt china and eu, already stated about FDA, FDA website about Kohl. Googled St. Ives lawsuit.]

I want to return to the idea of "intended use." This is sort of a fucky concept a lot of companies have ways of getting around. My "last straw" with makeup had to do with a run-in I had with Anastasia over their "Riviera" eyeshadow palette. In this pallette they had two colors that were the real feature of the palette, an electric neon purple and a radioactive pink I mean every photo, every promotion has these two colors swirled together around the eye. Because again, its an eyeshadow palette. When I buy the eyeshadow palette of course there's a little insert warning in the package that says these two shades are not intended on the eye area. In an eyeshadow palette. Contacting their customer service they told me that these two shades were meant to be used as a blush. neon purple blush. Not only that, but their website and instagram featured NO models wearing the shades as blush while EVERY model one or more of the shades as eyeshadow. When asked about this discrepancy ABH stopped responding. What I find egregious about this is the amount of people who dont know, and then more staggeringly; dont care. The sephora clerks didnt know, the in store abh representative didnt know, their customers didnt know, and when I told them they would respond with "oh, [brand] did the same thing with their [shade]." Sure enough, when I demanded that store clerks open the packaging to look for warnings nearly every product had an "eyeshadow" that was not intended for use on the eyes. Relegating dark, red-toned teal to "contour" and neon grean to "highlighter" US-based cosmetic junkies will say that these pigments have been approved for use by the EU however I found absolutely NO evidence of that. I googled it a thousand ways but all I ever found were blog posts, reddit comments, and one quote from an apparently nonEuropean layman in an Insider article. I even changed my location to France on ABH's website and the Norvina palette still contains the same warnings (not to harp on ABH in particular. I just know which shades in particular are the problem there). The Insider article noted that brands who were selling pressed pigments declined to comment. If the pressed pigments were EU friendly, I would think companies would be clamouring to say so. It also still makes their market as eyeshadow colors illegal in the US. (If any Europeans would like to chime in I'd love that.) Another problem I find with cosmetics companies and their reps is the claim that the worst thing that could happen is eye irritation for those with sensitive eyes and staining. How could they possibly know? The FDA doesnt test, or approve these cosmetics in the eye area, so ostensibly no one should be using it that way.

The next one is a bit of a "duh" but I'm going to talk about it anyway. Counterfeit cosmetics are a booming market full of untold dangers. Untold primarily because these products could contain literally anything. Ive read about glue, arsenic, lead, feces, staph, and horse urine to name a few. The labels and ingredient list on these products are fake. Legitimate brands often unintentionally play into the counterfeit market. They create artificial scarcity by making less of the product than is actually needed for consumer demand to create an even higher demand. If consumers miss out often their only chance at getting the product is to turn to counterfeits. I found examples of women who had their lips superglued, lips "turned to goo" and burned to blistering, throat closures, women with stys, contact dermatitis, eye infections. I think we as a society turn a blind eye to this problem because we think "hey, if youre buying counterfeits for a discount and you get hurt you deserve it." We imagine idiots buying products for 4 dollars from ebay or perusing Canal street for FEИTY beauty. But these counterfeits can be really convincing. I myself received a gift of a huda palette that I only recognized something was weird about it because I'd swatched it at sephora about five times earlier that month. The person who bought it for me actually paid MORE than the usual cost for the palette because it was advertised as a newer, better edition. The websites can be disturbingly similar. For instance Kylie Jenner's legitimate website is KylieCosmetics.com but you can find fakes at kyliecosmeticsshop.co.uk. These fakes can buy ad space and be one of the first sites that populate when you google the products instead of typing the legitimate site into the address bar. Counterfeits can also be bought and sold through third parties on websites like ebay, wish, and amazon. (My gift actually came from Amazon.)

[Netflix doc "Broken" ep "Makeup Mayhem" Corroborated by personal experience and google]

440 notes · View notes

vixenpen · 4 years ago

Note

Dabi smut with a teacher. Like in some quirkless au or something (He’s scarless but hella pierced and tatted), he had to pick up kid!Shoto one day and he sees his hot black teacher (Sis got thickness and curves for days, even in simple clothes) So he consistently picks up Shoto (even when he doesn’t have to) just to hit on her and when he finally scores a date with her, he’s at his limit after seeing her in casual wear and how amazing her personality is.

I LOVED this request. I had so much fun writing it and the details were amazing! I hope you enjoy

Hot For Teacher (Dabi x Black Reader) Quirkless AU

“Ah, come on kid,” Dabi sighed, expelling a stream of smoke as he waited at the curb for his baby brother to get out of school.

He rolled down the window to air out the car and watched the stream of middle schoolers burst through the double doors and head to their respective busses or cars.

“Shooo,” Dabi groaned, “where are you? I got shit to do, kid.”

He enjoyed hanging out with his youngest sibling, and he had no problem picking the kid up, but he also had a business to help run. If he didn’t get back to the shop in an hour and a half like he’d promised Hawks, he’d get an earful about responsibility and time management and blah, blah, blah.

He leaned back in the driver seat, deciding to give Shoto another fifteen minutes before he texted the kid.

Just then another wave of kids exited the building, Dabi’s bright blue eyes scanned them before landing on the finest woman he’d ever seen in his life.

Her cream colored silk blouse popped beautifully against her rich brown skin and a pair of slacks hugged her wide hips. Her makeup made her dark eyes sparkle and red lipstick painted her pouty mouth.

Dabi sat up, turquoise eyes running up and down that beautiful body of hers as the sexy teacher strutted past to talk to parents and wave good bye to students. When she turned around, his eyes slid down to the fattest ass he’d ever seen and he licked his lips.

Damn it must be hard as hell for her students to concentrate in class.

She turned again and began walking back towards the school. Fuck! If he didn’t stop gawking he would miss his chance. He couldn’t let that happen.

Holding his cigarette between his lips, Dabi quickly stepped out of the car and took leggy strides to catch up with the teacher.

“Excuse me.”

She turned around, her big dark eyes landing on him. Immediately Dabi knew she was sizing him up and wasn’t impressed. She gave that same disapproving teacher look Fuyumi gave whenever she was put off by someone.

Regardless, he flashed her his most charming smile. He may not be a goody two shoes like these other khaki wearing dads out here, but he knew he looked damn better than any of them.

“Sorry to bother you ma’am. I was just hoping you could help me out.”

“Sure,” she smiled back, showing off a pair of pretty white teeth. “Let’s start with that cigarette. It’s against our school policy to be smoking on the premises so if you could.” She cocked a brow expectantly.

Dabi cocked his own pierced brow back in response, but quickly stubbed out his cigarette on a nearby janitor’s cart and threw it away in the accompanying trash can.

Her smile widened. “Great. Now, how can I help you?”

Dabi chuckled. “Well, ya see, I just got this new phone and cleared out all my old contacts. Ya know, new year, new me and all that,” he shrugged, “anyway, my contacts are pretty empty now. So, I was wondering if I could get yours.”

She let out a little snort of amusement.

“That’s your pick up line? How many Girls have had the misfortune of hearing that one?”

“You’d be the first,” Dabi smirked back. “Figured the usual ‘hey beautiful, what’s your name’ line wouldn’t exactly help me stand out.”

“Trust me, you don’t need help standing out.” She replied, eying him again.

“Then that means I’m ahead of the game, right?” He held out a hand, “I’m Dabi.”

Tentatively, the teacher shook it. “Ms. Y/n.”

“Ms. Y/n, huh...” Dabi repeated slowly, his eyes ran over you with a barely masked longing. “Not ‘Mrs’?”

“Not yet.” You replied.

“How soon are you looking to change that?” Dabi asked, his smirk growing a bit smaller and more intimate.

“Who said I was looking to change it at all?”

“Certainly not me,” he replied, “that’s why I asked. I would love to talk more about how much you don’t want to change it over dinner sometime though.”

You fended off a smile. You were not about to give this over confident asshole any encouragement.

“Sorry, but I make it a point not to date my student’s parents.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not a parent then.”

“Oh? So you just like to stroll on the campuses of random middle schools and hit on the teachers for fun?”

Dabi chuckled again.

“I’m here to pick up my little brother. Ah, hell, speaking of which, I actually could use your help with that. Kid hasn’t come out yet and I’ve already been here over half an hour.”

Your pretty face immediately crumpled with worry.

“What’s your brother’s name?”

“Todoroki Shoto.”

“Oh!” You looked surprised. “Shoto. I think I saw him headed towards the baseball field. I think the team has practice today.”

“Dammit! Really? Well, I better go say hi to the kid anyway. You mind, uh, leading the way?”

“Sure.” You shrugged.

Turning, you took the lead and guided Dabi towards the baseball diamond behind the school. You could feel the man’s eyes on your ass the whole way, and couldn’t help but put an extra switch in your hips as you did. Much to his appreciation.

You had to admit the man was fine as hell. The black undercut with lines cut in the side, his multiple piercings and even the colorful tattoos you saw peeking from under his fitted black tshirt were hot as hell. However, you had long since given up on bad boy types. You preferred nerds. Still a little light flirting wouldn’t hurt anything, right?

“There he is.” Dabi stated once the two of you verged on the field. He held up his hands to his mouth and called out: “Yo, Sho!”

The boy looked up, heterochromatic eyes widening in surprise.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had practice today you little half and half?”

“Why don’t you ever check mom’s texts?” Shoto shouted back. “She told you to come later.”

You snickered as Dabi pulled out his phone and checked his text messages.

“Huh. Well I’ll be damned.” He muttered to himself. “Alright, kiddo, I’ll be back in an hour!”

“Can you stop shouting and leave now?! I have to concentrate.”

Dabi laughed before turning back to you.

“Anyway, thanks a lot for your help Ms. Y/n.”

“Just doing my job.”

“Still, I would love to thank you properly. Maybe over coffee.” He said, sounding hopeful.

“Before it was dinner.” You quipped, playfully.

“I know. I‘m just planning for future dates.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “It was nice meeting you, Dabi.” With that you turned and strutted off.

“I hope you know I’m gonna keep trying until I get a yes or no.” He called after you.

As you entered the school’s back entrance you could hear Shoto shouting: “Can you please stop hitting on my teachers? I have to see them everyday!”

Unfortunately for Shoto, his plea seemed to go in one overly pierced ear and out the other because almost everyday since then, Dabi made it a point to stop and talk to you when he came to pick up Shoto.

“Hey there, Ms. Y/n. My contacts are filling up fast. You sure you don’t wanna reserve a spot?”

“Sorry Dabi, but my no dating policy extends to immediate family members as well.”

“I hated to cancel our reservations, but you’re left me no choice, Ms. Y/n.”

“Nobody told you to make reservations, Dabi.”

“Dinner was lonely the other day. If only I had a beautiful black queen to keep me company.”

“I’m sure There are plenty of black queens out there that would have loved to accompanying you to dinner.”

“Yeah, but they wouldn’t have been you.”

Dabi was unrelenting. Always complimenting how amazing your outfits looked on your skin tone, how flattering your make up was, or if you wore a new hairstyle or new jewelry.

You couldn’t lie. The attention was both flattering and refreshing. Since becoming a teacher, you usually only got hit on by studious academic types. Attractive yes, but straight laced and all the same with their game

Unfortunately a disturbing amount of married dads also tried their luck with you.

But Dabi was different.

He may have been a far cry from your usual type, but he was always perfectly respectful and even funny. Not to mention he was much closer to your own age than other men that came on to you.

He must have started bribing Shoto for help or asking him about your interests too. Because sometimes when he would see you, he’d have a new book to give you or your favorite iced tea from a cafe you always frequented. Which, admittedly, was pretty damn cute.

The tatted up alt boy was actually growing on you. So one day, when both of you least expected it, you finally agreed to give him your number and go on a date.

That was the first time you ever saw him straight up smile. Not smirk or grin. He actually beamed. Just like a little boy who’d been told he could have a puppy.

Ok, ok. You admit it—he was cute.

Hopefully, that charm would extend over to dinner.

When the big date came, Dabi cleaned himself up. Opting out of his usual dark attire for a deep blue fitted Ralph Lauren polo and skinny khakis. He even took out some of his piercings in an attempt to look more presentable. He thought he cleaned up pretty nice if he did say so himself, but it was nothing compared to what you strutted in wearing.

Dabi had gotten used to your stylish but conservative work attire. He was so used to your hot teacher look, that he forgot you probably had some regular clothes in that amazing wardrobe of yours.

And damn did you pick out the most show stopping dress you had. You wore a wine colored dress that cut low in the front showing off those juicy tits of yours and stopped above the knee. The heels you wore made your thighs look even yummier and your ass was jiggling out of control with every step.

Down boy. Down boy. Down boy.

He scolded himself.

“Well, don’t you clean up nicely, Dabi?” You teased.

“I’m Touya tonight, beautiful.” He struck a pose like a GQ model. You laughed. “Dabi was that guy that kept hitting on you, Touya’s the guy that’s gonna try not to screw it up.

“Oh,” you ran a manicured finger along his solid chest, “well, I agreed to a date with Dabi, but I guess Touya could be fun too.”

Dabi licked his lip, and your eyes fell on his tongue piercing, hungrily.

“Depending on how well the night goes, you might see Dabi come out later tonight.” He replied, suggestively.

You rolled your eyes, but could feel your cheeks (and your pussy) warming.

“Boy! Come on.”

Dabi as Touya opened the door to the restaurant and ushered you inside.

The restaurant he took you to was definitely a high end place; complete with soft candle light, a jazz quartet, and a maître d’.

The chemistry the two of you had definitely translated over dinner.

Dabi was just as funny as he always was and he was genuinely interested in getting to know everything about you. He hung on to your every word about the funny things your students did in class. He enjoyed hearing your college stories. He even knew some of the books you enjoyed reading and could talk literature easily.

You discovered that he was the co-owner of a tattoo and piercing shop. He was the oldest of his siblings. And he enjoyed traveling and learning new things.

Dabi enjoyed vibing with you. He loved that your personality and sense of humor was just as amazing and substantial as that body he wanted a piece of so bad.

Dinner rolled into drinks and lasted well into the night. By the time the two of you were done it was damn near four A.M.

From that night on, you and Dabi became practically inseparable. He picked you up from school right along with Shoto for dinner after work, swung by with coffee, bought you any and everything you wanted (he does come from money after all) and after a year of dating, you became more than just a ‘Ms.’

Pt.2

#dabi x black!reader #dabi x reader #flirting #first dates #bnha fluff #my hero academia #bnha imagines #bnha #bnha scenarios #my hero fanfic #bnha headcanons #dabi scenarios #touya todoroki #mha headcanons #black writers #curvy reader

598 notes · View notes

laurafett · 4 years ago

Text

Unfamiliar Fruit

PART ONE

Friends to lovers, sex pollen Boba Fett x f reader

Words: 10k

- You and Boba are guests in a palace on a different planet. The King serves you some strange food, with the intetion of doing both of you a favour -

No mentions of pronouns, hair or skin color, sexuality. Also, let’s pretend that there is underwear in space. Minors, do NOT interact!!

Warnings: smut, fluff, age gap (reader is 18+), mentions of food and eating, masturbation (m and f), comlink sex, pain due to sex pollen, slight voice kink

______________________________________________________________

Why did you always let yourself get dragged into some bantha shit like this? You were dirty, sweaty and smelled like the inside of a Tauntaun. Boba told you this was going to be a short hunt for which he needed your help. Just one bounty he would have to hunt and collect. He said it would take about two or three days. Yeah, no shit. You were sitting on this Marker forsaken planet for almost two weeks now because Boba found some new connections for his business on Tatooine.

He didn't want you to get into trouble so you had to stay in Slave I almost every day. You had no clean clothes, the water tank for the shower was already empty and soon you would be out of food too.

You sat in this tiny, dirty ship while the bounty hunter probably was living in a big, glamorous palace at the other side of the town. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, letting out a sight as you tried to find a comfortable position in the pilots seat. This was where you spent most of your days, sitting in the cockpit while looking out of the big window in front of you.

It was a green planet, with lots of trees and fields of grasses. It was a welcome sight after spending so much time on Tatooine. The air here was cool and fresh, but it was not exactly cold. The small forests shielded the ship from the sun, so that it always had a comfortable temperature in the ship. At least that was something nice about your current location.

Another nice thing was there was a river which’s stream led behind the big city walls. On some particular hot days, you used the water there to cool down your body. You watched how the water disappeared as soon as it reached the high built bricks that were put there to shield the town and the people there from any kind of intruders.

You couldn't see much of the city because the ship was stationed some miles away from it. You guessed it was old, from the way the walls looked. In all your days here you never saw a person leaving or entering through the massive wooden doors. It made you wonder if the town was really so big to have everything they needed, so no one ever had to leave this place.

Tearing your eyes away from the mysterious town in front of you, you looked into the sky. Only a few more hours before the sun would start to set and you would have another silent night all by yourself.

If you were on Tatooine you would have spent time with Fennec during your sleepless nights, her never seeming to sleep much as well. But no, you were here. And you were bored to death. There wasn't even anything to read on Boba’s ship, so you had no other option other than to sit around and keep staring holes into the air.

Right when you were about to get lost in some thoughts again, your datapad received a message from your absent partner. Your back straightened and you leaned forward to read it.

“We will leave soon, only one or two more days.

They invited you for dinner tonight as well,

you also get a proper quarter to sleep in.

Be here before the sun sets.

Take the ship with you, there is a place near the palace

where you can land it. Be careful.”

You almost started crying at the thought of a real bed and real food waiting for you. “Thank the Maker.”, you mumbled to yourself before you checked that everything on the ship was secured so nothing would break during your flight. It didn't take long for you to start the ship and fly directly in the direction of the big castle-like building.

Only five minutes later you landed the ship near the palace and some people were already coming out of the ancient building. You grabbed your blaster before leaving the ship and walked towards the other people. They greeted you by bowing in front of you. Eyebrows lifted in surprise, you looked back down at them.

There was an older man with brown skin and dark hair, some strands already whitening. His mouth was almost hidden by a big, long beard that went down to his throat, but you were able to make out a small smile on his lips. He wore a purple robe, so long that the end of it was covering the ground behind him. Some golden chains covered his chest and he wore rings on almost every finger.

He was in the company of four young women, covered in light yellow cloaks. You were able to see their faces, all of them smiling at you. Each one seemingly more beautiful than the others. Now you could understand why Boba spent so much time here.

“You must be the partner of the great Boba Fett.” The man in front of you began speaking, “We are glad to have you here. All our guests get only the best. We’ve prepared your quarters for the night and one of my maids will show you the way so you can refresh yourself before dinner.”

The old man pointed at a young woman with curly hair, who was smiling at you.

“Thank you, that's really nice.” was all you could say in your current state of surprise.

“Nothing to thank us for. We made a really good deal with your partner so it is a pleasure for us to have you here.” The man nodded slowly and you gave him a weak smile. These people were way too friendly to make a deal with Boba. You hoped he would explain this to you when you see him.

“Follow me, I will show you your room.” The young woman said and waved her hand for you to follow her.

The palace was gigantic. Many statues and old art were all over the place. The statues were made out of white stone, portraying people you didn't know, probably warriors. Strong bodies, perfectly chiseled into different kinds of material, telling a story you've never heard before. Paintings covered the high walls, showing many faces. Some of them looked like normal citizens like farmers, children, or the whole families portraits. Others picturing royals, queens and kings, princes and princesses.

The two of you walked through an uncountable amount of rooms and corridors. And after almost ten minutes of walking the woman turned around, looking at you. She opened the doors on your left and your eyes widened in shock. The room they prepared for you was bigger than any house you had ever lived in. It was filled with old furniture, a gigantic bed, a big balcony and a probably enormous bathroom behind a closed door. The maid walked into the room with you being directly behind her. She went over to a large closet and opened it to reveal that it was full of beautiful clothes made out of the best material in the galaxy. One of your hands rose to touch the silky fabric of one of the dresses.

“These are for you to wear. We asked your partner for your size and I hope there is something that fits in here. If not, feel free to tell me and we will get you something else.” You slowly nodded while looking through the amount of different clothes. “The King wants you to wear anything you feel comfortable in but would be happy if you would wear something more festive for dinner.” You looked over to her and she smiled at you again.

“Dinner will be ready in about two hours. Feel free to use the bathroom and clean yourself up.” She slowly made her way to the door, “And if you need anything, please let me know and we will be happy to help you.”

“Thank you.” was all you could say before she left the room.

Now being on your own, you slowly walked through the chambers, trying to take in every detail. The walls were a light rosé and sky blue curtains hung beside the windows. All the furniture was made out of dark wood. A small glass table stood in the corner of the room with some books on top. The bed was covered in white sheets and pillows and was large enough to allow 4 people, maybe even more, to sleep comfortably.

You walked out onto the balcony and gasped. You had a great view over the whole city. It wasn't the biggest you have ever seen, but definitely one of the most beautiful ones. Everything looked more like a big garden than a place where people lived. Old, small houses were blooming like mushrooms between a field of grass. Many fields covered the space underneath the palace.

People stood in front of their houses, talking to each other. Children were playing hide and seek, laughing so loud even you could hear it. The lights were turned on in almost every house and you could see some farmers bringing the harvest they collected over the day into the warmth of their homes. This place was really beautiful.

And now, as the sun slowly started to set, it looked even more aesthetically pleasing. You looked down into the court of the palace and saw Boba. He was taking a walk with the man you talked to when you arrived. Hopefully he would tell you what this was all about as soon as you had some alone time with him.

After standing and watching the city for some more moments, you went back inside and into the bathroom. Just as you thought it was just as big as everything else. Covered in white tiles, a marble bathtub, a shower beside and a big sink with a mirror and any kind of makeup you could think of. You never really used something like this, but maybe tonight was a good night to try it.

You stripped out of your dirty clothes and quickly got into the shower. The warm water ran down your body and you couldn't help yourself but moan at the relaxing feeling. After cleaning yourself completely, you just had to stay under the warm water for just a bit longer.When you finally had enough, you turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. With one hand you grabbed one of the soft towels, wrapping it around your body.

Entering the bedroom once more you walked over to the big closet and searched through it. You opened one of the drawers, instantly moving back in surprise. It was full of some of the most expensive and beautiful lingerie you have ever seen. Did Boba tell them to get those for you? Curiously you looked through them, soon realizing that all of them were exactly your size. How could he know what size you wore? But before you were able to think much further, your eyes caught a glimpse of a beautiful, dark green lace set.

You pulled it out of the drawer, taking the time to really look over it. It was gorgeous. Without thinking too much, you dried your body and tried on the underwear. You weren't insecure about your body or anything, but you were still afraid that it might not look as good as you imagined. With small steps you walked in front of the big mirror beside the closet and looked at your figure. Holy shit. You looked fucking hot. The bra fitted perfectly around your breasts and you were able to see through it a little bit. The panties wrapped themselves around your ass without covering too much. You were speechless. How could've Boba guessed your size so perfectly?

Before putting on more clothes you went back into the bathroom to do your hair and make up. And while doing that your thoughts started to wander.

You always had a thing for Boba. From the day you agreed to work with him to this current moment. The both of you met while searching for a bounty. He got attacked by several men at the same time and you hopped in to help him. He was impressed, to say at least. You joked about saving his life and how he would owe you something.

The bounty hunter was almost speechless at that moment. You weren't afraid of him. You knew who he was, but you weren't afraid, not in the slightest. He was almost sure he could like you until it turned out that both of you were going after the same bounty. Boba tried to tell you that you had no right to go after this man and that he would kill you if you still tried to, but the only thing you said was:”Are you afraid of losing, old man?”

And that is how it started. You were able to catch the first bounty. Boba was angry about it, but he would never tell that he was almost as much impressed by your fighting and hunting skills. Those games continued for weeks. Every time you met each other on a planet, searching for a bounty, you made a contest out of it.

He would never admit it, but he loved it. He loved to see you getting lost in your hunting instincts and trying to get whoever you were looking for. He loved seeing you fight, you were much stronger than you looked. But mostly he loved to see your euphoric smile when you showed him the bounty you just caught. Of course he would never admit that to you, but he loved spending this time with you.

But things got more stressful on Tatooine and he had to stay there for a certain amount of time, dealing with his business. You two didn't see each other anymore and it drove both of you crazy. You listened to every conversation about Boba to find out where he was right now, secretly hoping to see him again as soon as possible.

Until one day, you received a message from the King of the Underworld himself. He said that he would need more good bounty hunters in his palace and offered you a job at his side. Obviously, you couldn't say no, so the next day you made your way to the palace to start working with him and his right hand Fennec.

The three of you got along pretty well and work seemed to be as easy as never before. The only thing disturbing the good climate you had in the palace was the never ending tension between you and Boba. You didn't know what exactly the reason was for this undeniable tension, but it drove you mad. You were attracted to him, there was no point in denying that. But you also knew that he saw you as a coworker, maybe a friend. There were other things going through his head than what was going on between the two of you. You were also sure that you just imagined all the small hints which could possibly be a sign for him returning your feelings.

Until Fennec decided to confront you. She asked you why you didn't already tell him, that it was already really obvious. You didn't know what to say and tried to deny your feelings. The only reaction she showed to your very bad lie was a dramatic roll of her eyes. “I can't wait until you both realize that each of you returns the feelings for the other one.” was the last thing she said before she walked away and it still haunted you to this day.

Your eyes were glued to the mirror in front of you while you were trying to do your eyeliner. Finally finished, you looked at yourself. Even though you didn't use makeup on a regular basis, it looked really good. Happy with your hair and makeup, you went back to the closet.

Your eyes scanned every single piece of clothing in there. What would be something acceptable to wear while having dinner with a King? One of the dresses caught your eye, but before you were able to pull it out of the closet the door to your room got opened.

Eyes widened in shock, you looked at Boba who stood in the doorway. You couldn't see it but his eyes scanned your almost naked body. He didn't even realize it but his breathing stopped as soon as he saw you. You looked absolutely stunning. Only when his eyes met yours through his visor, he realized that he was staring at you. He snapped out of his thoughts and turned around, trying to get his breathing under control.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. I just wanted to see if everything is alright and tell you that dinner is ready in about half an hour.” he spoke with a raspy voice.

“Okay, alright. I will be there.” You looked at his back while speaking.

Without another word Boba went out of the room and closed the door behind him. He walked down the corridor with large steps. The picture of you, just standing there in the probably hottest set of lingerie he ever saw, was burned into his mind. They asked him for your size, yes, but he never thought they would pick out something like this for you. Maker, he needed to cool down.

Entering his room, he sat down on the white sheets of his bed. Seeing you like this was completely new for him and he couldn't deny the fact that his trousers got tighter when he had scanned the length of your body. He knew you for a good amount of time now, but most of the time he had enough self-control to not imagine you in this certain kind of way. But this time, he couldn't help himself.

Pictures of your body laying underneath him flooded his mind. He wondered if the sounds you made were just as beautiful as you? Would your lips feel as soft as they look? Would you taste like- Kriff. His eyes snapped open and he let out a deep sigh. At this point, he was rock hard just by thinking of you. He needed to stop.

He knew that someone as beautiful as you and also younger than him would never share the same feelings as him. You were able to have any person you wanted, why would you choose him? He thought back when you first arrived at his palace.

The way the people eyed you. Hundreds of hungry eyes stared at you. He still remembered how glad he was that he wore his helmet, so no one could see his jealous expression. Only when you walked up to him and started talking to him, the people stopped staring at you. The only thing he wanted to do in that moment was to pull you onto his lap and show everyone that you belonged to him and if anyone dared to lay a hand on you, they would have to deal with Boba himself.

But you weren't his. You belonged to no one, you told him more than once. And he understood what you meant by saying this and he respected you, more than anyone else. But he still found himself alone at night, wishing you were by his side.

A knock on the door ripped him out of his daydreams.

“I just wanted to tell you that food is ready in five minutes.” A voice said through the door. After that it got silent again. Trying to get you out of his head he stood up and made his way into the dining hall. This is going to be a long night.

You stood in silence for a minute after Boba left your room. You noticed his staring, but you weren't sure if it was just because you were in your underwear or if he really thought you were attractive.

Thinking about it for a second, you decided to try your luck today. If it turned out that he wasn't interested, you could finally live in peace again. But if he was, then you were going to have a very good night.

The bounty hunter was already sitting at the table when you entered the large dinner room. You saw how his helmet turned in your direction but you couldn't see any reaction from his side. And again, Boba was very happy to wear that stupid helmet. You looked stunning. Your body was covered by a silky black dress with thin straps. It went down to your legs and hugged all your curves perfectly. He swallowed hard, almost sure everyone could hear it.

With a nervous look, you settled down in the seat beside him. You looked at his black visor and he nodded slightly. Before you could say anything the King, as you learned for the maid, stood up and began to speak.

“Tonight we want to honor our guests, the great Boba Fett and his beautiful partner. Our kingdom was able to make a deal from which we all are going to profit from and which will keep us all safe.” He raised his glass in your direction. “We hope you enjoy your meal and now, let the festivities begin.”

He brought his glass to his lips and drank one sip, before everyone else joined in.

Two big doors swung open and the staff brought in the food. You almost couldn't believe your eyes. So many different kinds of food, mostly things you didn't even know. Your stomach started rumbling at the sight of all the different courses. With wide eyes, you looked at Boba once more. He didn't notice because he was in the middle of taking off his helmet. You were about to stop him, but it was already too late. He never let his enemies or business partners see his face, but by the reaction of the other people in this room it wasn't the first time they saw him. He turned his face to you and mustered you with a confused look.

“What's the matter?” His eyes fixed on yours while he was trying to figure out what was going on in your head.

“Nothing. Don’t worry.” You shook your head slightly.

Bringing your eyes back to the food in front of you, you couldn't stop yourself from starting to eat. So many different vegetables and fruits. All the different variations and sauces. You moaned when the first piece of food found its way into your mouth. This was the best feeling you've ever experienced.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Boba watched you and a small smile tugged at his lips as he saw your satisfied expression when you finally started eating.

Without even trying to hold back you ate as much food as you could. Each dish was better than the other and you were almost overwhelmed at all the different choices.

You were still eating even after all the others finished their meal, but you didn't care. You had no good food in weeks and to be completely honest, the food on Tatooine wasn't the best either.

Shoving the last piece of food into your mouth you fell back into your seat, holding your tummy. You were stuffed, to say the least.

“Finished already? Don't you want to lick the plates of all the others clean too?” Boba smirked at your exhausted figure, bringing his glass to his lips.

You gave him a playful annoyed look, but couldn't hold back your laugh. The corners of his mouth raised around the glass.

Before you were able to reply something the other man beside you started talking to you. You were so caught up in getting food inside your stomach that you didn't even talk to anyone in here. So you gladly interacted in the conversation the other man tried to build up.

Turns out this planet was one of the only ones which stayed completely out of the war that happened some years ago; which was impressive because almost no planet was able to stay out of those kinds of politics. But this was the reason why everything here was so old. They never had to rebuild anything because nothing ever got destroyed. Maybe by accident on occasion but never due to war. The people who lived here had one of the oldest environmental systems in the galaxy, which is the reason why you didn't recognize most of the food. It's local and you are not able to get it on any different planets. You wondered if Boba made a deal about some kind of spices, but he was more than a spice smuggler. That would make no sense.

Suddenly, in the middle of the conversation, someone came up behind you and sat a new plate in front of you. On it was a fruit, you also didn't recognize. It had thick skin and was bright yellow. You looked around and saw that Boba and you were the only one with this kind of food on their plates. With a confused look you turned your head to him but he just shrugged his shoulders, signaling you that he also had no idea what kind of fruit that was.

“We decided to give you some of our rarest food on the planet. It is hard to grow and actually is the only fruit we sometimes sell to other planets. But after everything you will be doing for us, I think you deserve to get a taste.”, the King spoke and looked at the two of you. You weren't sure if it was just your imagination but all the other people in the room looked at you with a smirk on their face. As if they knew something you didn't.

There was no room left in your stomach, you were full. But after everything the man said, you didn't want to be rude, so you took your fork and tried a small piece of the yellow food in front of you.

Before you even started chewing it, you tasted how sweet it was. Too sweet. You grimaced at the overwhelming taste. It was like nothing you ever tasted before. It gave your tongue a tingling sensation but also made it numb at the same time. The juice that squished out of it when you bit it, immediately ran down your throat. You desperately tried to hold back a cough. With one big gulp, you swallowed the piece of fruit and laid your fork back down.

Side-eyeing Boba, you saw that he wasn't impressed by the taste either. Just now you realized that all eyes in the room were laid on the two of you, waiting for your reaction.

“It-” You began, clearing your raspy voice before continuing, “It tastes delicious, really. Amazing, different taste.” It was a lie and anyone smart enough would have realized but it seemed like the people didn't notice. They started smiling, bringing their attention to their own desserts.

Boba looked at you in a way that said 'You are a terrible liar.', but you didn't care as long as everyone was happy.

“I'm very glad to hear that and now eat up. We wouldn't want to waste anything of this delicate fruit.” You sent a death look into the direction of the king, but your partner nudged your side with his elbow.

“Eat up. You don't want to be rude, do you?” Your death glare wandered directly to Boba and he smirked at you. Cocky bastard.

With a disgusted look on your face you took the fork again and started eating the fruit.

Soon it was much later in the evening but you didn't notice the passage of time because you were actually having some nice conversations with the people from the city. You talked about the wars, the way this planet stayed out of them, the story of how you became a bounty hunter and joined Boba.

Your eyes wandered into the direction of said bounty hunter more than once that night. Sure, he wasn't someone to talk much, especially about his feelings, but you couldn't deny the feeling of disappointment that he didn't even acknowledge the way you looked tonight. The small amount of hope in you wasn't strong, but it was surely gone by now. Forcing your eyes away from him, you started listening to the story one of the women in front of you was currently telling.

Boba didn't feel well. It wasn't the amount of strangers around him or the fact that he probably ate too much, no. It was the fact that you turned heads in this room. From more than just one or two people.

But well, he couldn't blame them. Your body looked like art in the dress you were wearing. He asked himself what the reason was, for your choice of looks tonight. Did you want to impress someone? Boba knew you had your fair amount of affairs. It had been revealed after you two along with Fennec drank too much spotchka one night and talked about your sex lives. He still didn't know how that happened.

Anyway, even though he knew you weren't his, he tried to keep everyone away from you that showed just the slightest bit of interest in you. He knew it wasn't fair, but he couldn't stand the thought of someone else touching you. Was this the reason you were dressed like this? Did you want to hook up with someone from the palace?

He shook his head. He had no reason to think about your intimate relationships with others; he had no right to judge or decide over your choices. But the more he let his mind wander, more thoughts of you popped up in his head. And one of the thoughts was the picture of you in your underwear. Again.

Suddenly, he felt hot. Not in the way he felt when he was angry or embarrassed, but actually hot. So hot that he started sweating. He looked around to find a reason why the temperature suddenly had changed in here but it seemed like no one else noticed. He tried to adjust himself in the chair. It felt like his armor got two sizes smaller and he wasn't able to breathe. Different parts of his body began to tingle and he was sure he would pass out. His body quickly raised from his seat, to get out of the room but the second he stood, he couldn’t move due to the feeling of dizziness that held him. Boba stood there for a second before he made his way out of the dinner hall.

Your eyes fell on his quickly moving body and the way the look on his face seemed alarmed. Something told you to follow him. Without excusing yourself, you left your seat and made your way up to him. Before he was able to leave the room, you reached for his arm and stopped him. He turned to you, his eyes wide in shock.

“Boba, are you alright? You look terrible.” The look on your face was concerned and you glanced at him through your lashes. He stared at you, not without noticing how his eyes started to wander over your body.

“I- umm...” He stopped his rambling when he felt a painful sting in his lower belly, his erection forming in his pants. What was wrong with him?

“Kriff.” was all he said, looking around to see if anyone was staring at the two of you. Luckily no one seemed to care about the fact that the two of you were standing away from the table.

Without thinking, Boba grabbed your waist and pulled you a little closer to him. You were so surprised. You couldn't think of anything to say. He lowered his head so his mouth was directly at your ear.

“We are leaving tomorrow morning, be ready. I'm going to bed now and you should too, Princess.” Not a second later, he released his grip on you and was gone.

Princess. The word rang through your ears. It was almost as if you could still feel his hands on you. A shiver ran down your shine when you thought about his breath hitting your sweaty neck. Lost in your thoughts you still looked at the door he left through.

A sharp pain in your stomach shook you out of your trance. You flinched at the feeling, wondering what that was. But a moment later, you felt a burning heat in your core and the feeling spread through your whole body. You grew even hotter than before. Maybe Boba was right. You should go to bed.

It was harder than you thought to find your way back to your quarters. The fact that your legs got weaker with every step and the slightly dizzy feeling in your head wasn't helping either. You stumbled through the corridors, hoping to soon find your stupid room. Who needs a palace that big anyway?

After some more minutes, you were sure you finally arrived. About to open the door to your room, you heard a strange sound coming from a chamber down the hall. You stayed still, to see if it wasn't just your head trying to trick you.

“Dank Farrik!”

Even though your whole body was aching at this point, you followed the sound. A loud groan came out of one room and you realized it was Boba. A little bit faster than before, or at least as fast as you were able to go, you went to the door the sound was coming from. Your mind clouded from the heat and pain taking over your body as you knocked.

“Boba?” Your voice was weak and raspy as if you had been screaming for hours straight. Nothing happened, so you tried again. “Are you alright? I heard some noise-”, a sore, deep voice cut you of.

“I'm... I'm alright.” A sore, deep voice cut you off. On the other side of the door, the man struggled to speak. His throat felt so dry as if he had wandered through the dunes of Tatooine for days without a single drop of water. Every part of his body arched and he panted, not being able to breath properly.

When he entered his room some moments ago, he got rid of his armor, tossing it carelessly onto the floor and falling down onto the bed. He didn't feel dizzy anymore but there was pain, almost as bad as in the sarlacc, flowing through his body and especially into his abandonment. He was hard, harder than ever before and it hurt. Scared of touching himself, of making the pain even worse, he just kept laying there, hoping that the pain would go away. No luck yet.

There was a white noise in your ears and you almost didn't hear what he said. His voice sounded so breathy; you were afraid he was hurt. You tried to steady yourself by holding on to the doorknob. You felt like you were about to pass out, but you still wanted to make sure that everything was alright.

“Are you s... sure? It doesn't sound like it.” It almost hurt to speak.

You heard a terrifying growl from the other side of the door.

“Fucking hell. I'm doing fine and now go to bed.” Boba shouted.

Too dizzy to be shocked or to show any reaction towards his tone you slowly made your way back to your quarters. Barely able to find the strength to push the door open, you almost fell into the room. The pain got even worse and couldn't hold your body up any longer. You felt your legs carry you across the room so you could collapse on the bed, groaning loudly as your body landed on the mattress. Your mind wasn’t able to form any kind of rational thought. The only thing you were aware of was the pain in your body and the growing wetness between your legs.

You had no idea what was going on, only realizing that you started to become incredibly needy. With all the force you could muster in the moment, you rubbed your thighs together to create even the smallest amount of friction. You almost started cringing when you felt how just wet you were. Maker, what was wrong with you?

The pressure from your thighs wasn't enough. Your panties were already soaked, even without anyone touching you. Slowly, you let one of your hands go between your legs. Your body jumped at the first light touch and an obscene moan left your mouth. Holding your other hand over your mouth, you carefully started to touch yourself.

You closed your eyes, trying to focus on giving yourself some kind of pressure pleasure, but it didn't work. The pain was still there and it seemed like it wasn't about to leave any time soon. Starting to move your hand faster, to find your way to the desperately needed climax, you heard the sound of your wet cunt.

You’ve never been this wet. Especially without anyone touching you. Your thoughts drifted to Boba. Him calling you princess surely couldn't be the reason for the mess between your legs. You wanted to fuck him, but you weren't that affection starved. Or were you?

Thinking about your partner brought you closer to your own orgasm. Two of your fingers circled around your clit and started to become sloppy as you grew closer to your release. Your eyes stayed shut, trying to imagine something that would help you. You thought of Boba, sitting on his throne, legs wide and taking every inch of space in the big seat. The way he looked so dangerous, just by doing nothing then looking around the room. How often you thought about riding him in that position. You on top of him, his large hands on your hips. You would be completely naked for him while he still wore his armor, feeling the cold beskar against your heated skin. His body would tense underneath yours while he pounded into you, calling you his good girl.

You were so close, you could feel the familiar heat rising. Just one or two more seconds.

“Hey. Are you here? Can you hear me?” Your hand moved from your core as fast as possible. Shooting your eyes into the direction of the door, but it was still closed. A groan left your mouth. You were so close and the pain was still so present in your body, you were probably imagining things.

Just as you were about to continue, the voice rang through the room again. You tried to sit up, looking around, searching for the reason you were able to hear him.

“Are you mad at me? Dank- I... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you.” Boba sounded like he was out of breath. Your eyes landed on the pile of clothes on the floor. Sure, your comlink. On shaky legs, you walked to your old clothes and took the small speaker from your belt.

You were afraid to say something. Did he hear you? You were embarrassed. He was your coworker and you just almost had an orgasm while thinking about him.

“Boba.” The only thing leaving your mouth, in a breathless voice, was his name. You weren't able to say more, afraid that he might sense what you just did.

The man in the other room was still laying on his bed. He didn't trust himself to stand up. His heavy breathing was the only sound around him. His fist clenched around the comlink, after he heard you speaking. Your voice sounded just as weak as his, you must feel the same reaction as he did.

Boba has been to a lot of planets and different cities, but this feeling was new to him. He knew what the cause for this was, probably. The fruit contained a certain type of pollen. He heard about them, about the stuff they do to the ones eating it. It was almost like an aphrodisiac, people would get desperate for any kind of sexual interaction, just to make the pain go away. And he also knew that the pain would fade much faster, if you would do something about it and even better, not by yourself.

The sound of you whispering his name through the speaker made his hips twitch. He would never act on the feelings he had right now, especially not with you. You were too important to him and he would never forgive himself if he lost you due to his needy brain and body. But he couldn't stop thinking about you. The fact that you felt the same exact pain he did in this moment, made it even worse.

“Are you... are you alright?” Your quiet voice cut through his thoughts. Maker, why did your voice have to sound so fucking desperate? He shuts his eyes close, trying to stay focused.

“Yes, I think so. What about you?”

“No. No, I think something is wrong with me.” Boba's eyes snapped open again when he heard you were crying. “I- I don't know why, but everything hurts. Kriff, it hurts so bad Boba. I don't know what to do.” By now your voice was almost unrecognizable, it was shaky and blurred from your crying.

The heart of the bounty hunter sank deep in his chest. He didn't want you to go through this. “Okay, try to calm down. You got this, try to ignore it.” He almost laughed at himself. There was no way to ignore it and he knew that.

“Are you kidding me? Try to ignore it? Boba, it feels like my whole body is on fire, I can't just pretend I don't feel that shit.” There was a hint of annoyance in your voice and he couldn't blame you. He was better at controlling his body in general and it was still hell for him. He couldn't even imagine how you felt. “You know what, I'm coming over, right now.”

“No!” He screamed the word into the communicator in his hand. With all his strength, he sat up and rubbed a hand over his face. There was no way he would spend this time with you. He knew he wouldn't be able to control himself if you were with him.

“Boba, what the he-”

“I know what might help you.” His tone was low and calm, trying not to cross a line with what he was about to say. “You need to touch yourself.”

Your mouth fell open. Did... did he really just say that? You stayed silent, not knowing what to say. That was what you were already doing, touching yourself, but hearing him saying those words sent goosebumps all over your body.

“Before you start to protest, yes I know it sounds strange, but believe me, it will help you.” A moment of silence fell above you before he started to speak again. “Please. I don't want you to be in this terrible pain. Do... do it for me, please.”

You weren't able to stop the whine that left you after hearing his words. It was too much; this whole situation was too much for you. Your body was aching and you knew that your hands would never be able to sooth the pain and growing heat between your legs.

“Boba, I-” He cuts you off once again.

“S- stop saying my name like that, please. I will not be able to control myself if you keep doing that.” You felt even more heat rising in your body at his words. “Just... just try to do what I just told you.”

Without letting go of the comlink, you sneaked your hand under your dress once again and into your wet folds. You moaned at the feeling. There was a hiss, coming out of the speaker and you heard the man on the other end swearing.

“That's it. Just keep doing that.” Boba wasn't able to hold it back anymore, freeing his painful hard cock from his pants. It snapped up against his tummy and he threw his head back when the cold air hit his aching member.

“Boba.” This time you moaned his name on purpose and he really had to hold himself back from cumming right there and then, “I- I can't do this on my own, please.”

At this point you didn't care how desperate you sounded or if he could hear the sounds you were making. You needed something. You needed him.

The man heard you, very well, and it drove him crazy. He put his hand around his cock, slowly starting to pump it. It didn't feel good. He didn't like to masturbate in general, but with this burning need inside him and hearing you, touching yourself, it felt even worse. The urge to touch you has never been this strong, but he needed to keep it together. You only did that because you felt the pain this fruit caused, not because you were genuinely attracted to him.

Your fingers circled your clit, but it didn't feel like it was enough. Silent tears were still streaming down your face because you couldn't build up the friction you really needed. You whined in frustration.

Boba was sure he wouldn't last long if you kept making those sounds. Maker, what would he give to see you right now. Disheveled hair, your makeup probably all over your face, your hand between your legs and eyes closed. He was sure you looked like a goddess.

“Please, Boba. I need-” He had to stop you. He couldn't listen to you with that sweet, sweet voice of yours any longer.

“Alright, okay. Just do what I tell you.” The bounty hunter didn't believe what he was about to do. He has wanted you for so long and even though you weren't with him right now, he would savor every second of this.

“Just... umm...” He stopped himself and rasped his voice. He never had a problem with being talkative during sex. He actually really liked it but with you and especially in this situation, it felt different. “Bring your middle finger and your pointing finger to your clit and start rubbing it in circles. Not too fast, to build up some good pressure.” His grip around his cock tightened at the picture of you in his head.

You did as he told you and moaned, more at the words he spoke than to the actual feeling of pleasure. Never in your life have you been this turned on, not only because of the strange feeling in your body but also by the way Boba guided you through this. You could already feel the familiar heat growing in your lower stomach again. It wouldn't take long for you to finish.

He needed a moment to breath before he continued. Your moaning and whining made his dick twitch in his hand. His thumb collected the precum that already leaked and used it to start stroking himself again.

“Now use those two fingers, slide them inside of you and start fucking yourself.” His mind was clouded with pictures of you. The sounds you made rang in his ears and he wasn't able to hold his grunting back anymore.

The two of you listened to each other, touching yourselves. Both of you would lie if they said that this wasn't the hottest thing you’ve ever done. Feelings aside, the urge to feel one another and touch each other was so present and burning as never before, it was almost worse than the actual pain in your bodies.

Your back arched as you felt yourself getting close again, but you needed to hear his voice one more time. “Boba, I'm- I'm so close... I-” He was too and your words almost sent him over the edge, but he wanted to help you reach your climax first.

“It's alright, Princess. Just l- let go.” The hand around his cock sped up. His rapid pace was almost hurtful. “Imagine it’s someone else doing that to you. Imagine your fingers are someone else's, someone you wish was touching you right now.”

An incredibly loud sound left your mouth and you began to see stars. Your legs started to twitch and shake, while a loud white noise flooded your ears. Without thinking you started to scream. “You. Fuck, I wish it was you who was touching me right now, Boba.” You cummed hard. Your toes curled, your head pressing into the mattress underneath you. The hand inside of you stopped moving and started shaking, like every other part of your body.

As you laid there panting, you slowly came back to your senses. It was silent, but the pain in your body was still as present as before your orgasm. You groaned in frustration.

“It didn't help. Fuck, Boba. The pain is still there.” You whined but there was no reaction. The other side of the comlink was completely silent. Tears build themselves up and were about to escape your already burning eyes. You fucked up. You just told him you wished he would touch you.

“Shit!” You screamed and pressed your hands flat over your face. The tears started to stream down your face faster now as you started crying again. The pain and the embarrassment took over your brain, you never wanted to see him again. He would fire you, bring you back to the planet you came from and leave you there. You started sobbing and removed the hands from your face to place one of them over your mouth to muffle your pitiful cries.

You hated yourself right now. So much so that you would rather stay in this room forever than ever have to see his face again. The moment repeated itself in your head over and over again. You didn't notice when he broke the connection, but you knew that he probably did it after the last sentence you said.

New tears formed in the corner of your eyes, but before they were able to make their way down your face the door to your room got pushed open. Your head turned to the person standing in the doorway. It was Boba, wearing nothing but his black flight suit he always wore underneath his armor. You brought up your head and steadied yourself on your elbows.

“What are you-” The man was in front of you in a matter of seconds, looking down at your weak form. You slowly sat up and stared into his dark eyes.

“Was that what you said the truth?” His voice was even deeper in person. He looked exhausted, breathing unsteadily and sweating all over his face.

“Boba, I... I don't know-” One of his hands grabbed your chin roughly and tilted your head in his direction. Your heartbeat was going faster than before. It was hammering hard against your chest. You could feel it in every part of your body.

“Just tell me if you meant what you just said, or not. Because if you did, I will help you. I- I will touch you, just the way you need it, little one.” His eyes pierced into yours. His voice sounded calm but you could see that he was just as worked up as you. “And if not, I will leave you alone. I don't want you to feel pressured to do anything you don't want to do.”

It was almost as if you forgot how to breath. His words rang through your ears and for a second you believed you passed out and all of this was a dream. But the grip around your chin proved you wrong.

“I asked you a question.” He said in a more aggressive tone. The hand on your face tugged you slightly forward and only now you became aware of his hard erection, pressing against his pants. You swallowed loudly, looking back up into his eyes. A small smirk played around his lips.

“Like what you see?” The smirk on his face grew even wider when he saw your head nodding.

“Now tell me,” He brought his body down to yours to look directly into your face, “Do you want me to touch you? Do you want me to help you get rid of the pain?”

He paused for a second and brought his face closer to yours so both of your noses were touching.

“Do you want me to make you feel good?”

Your breathing hitched in your lungs and you felt a hot sting going through your body, going straight to your cunt. Boba drew his face away from you, just a little bit, but you already wanted to protest. Your hands rose up and grabbed his broad shoulders.

“Yes.” It was nothing more than a silent breath but the words rang in his ears as if you screamed them. “Yes, I want you to touch me and make me feel good, I- Fuck, Boba. I want you so bad.”

Without wasting another second he crushed his lips onto yours and started kissing you. The kiss was heated, fast and passionate. Teeth clenched against teeth and tongues tried their best to taste the other person. His lips were softer than you expected, they were warm and inviting. A tingling feeling made its way to your chest and you realized you never wanted this to stop.

You felt like you were in heaven and even forgot about the pain for a second, but not for long. Boba's hands were holding your face, brought it even closer to his while you did the same with your hands around his neck.

His mouth pulled away from yours as he began to wander and kiss his way down your throat. He let both of his hands slide down your body, over your breasts until he rested them at your waist. Your body arched into his touch and a whimper escaped you. The man's lips twitched into a smile, feeling proud about the reaction of your body against his touches.

With one hand on your back, he slowly started to lay you down on the bed. His body was now hovering over you and you could feel the strong heat radiating from him. Every kiss he left on your bare skin was like a small flame burning its way into your mind.

When his lips reached your cleavage he stopped and looked up to you. You looked so beautiful, a sweating, panting mess underneath him. That's everything he ever dreamed of, maybe even more.

Both of his hands ran patiently down your sides until he got to your thighs. He reached for the hem of your dress and pulled it up a little bit. His hot mouth went down your clothed body, not once breaking the eye contact.

You shivered at the sight in front of you. Every part of you felt like it was electrified and you were sure you would explode if he wouldn't start properly touching you soon.

Boba went onto his knees in front of the bed, now pulling up your dress so that the hem of it lay just above your panties. His eyes fell to the soaked green material that still covered your heat.

“Look at you. If it wasn't for the fucking fruit, I would say that you are pretty desperate for me, little one.” A wide smirk covered his face and even more heat rose into yours.

“What has the fruit to do with-” But you were cut off by the feeling of one of his thick fingers sliding in between your wet folds. Your mouth fell open in a breathless moan and your head pushed back into the white covers. Only when you heard the man in front of you humming your head came back up only to see that the finger, which was between your legs just seconds ago, was now in his mouth. His eyes found yours while he licked his finger clean, pulling it back out with a small popping sound.

“You taste fucking delicious. Better than any food anyone’s ever served me.” He smiled at you. “Even better than I've imagined.”

Your eyes widened at his words. He imagined the way you tasted? The man in front of you was about to pull down your panties, but you stopped him. He looked at you with a confused expression.

“What do you mean with 'you imagined'? Have you thought about this before? About us?” The pain was buzzing through your body, but you needed to know.

His expression softened and a small smile appeared on his face. He planted a soft kiss on your knee before talking.

“Princess, are you serious? I've dreamed about this for so long, to finally have you. To feel, taste and hear you, everything. But right now,” His lips made their way up on your inner thigh, “is not the time to talk about this. Let me soothe your pain and afterwards, we can talk about everything. I promise. Right now, I just want to taste you.”

He reached your clothed cunt and pressed a kiss on to it. His fingers reached up to the waistband of your panties. Your legs were already shaking from watching him move. You were about to tell him not to tease you when a knock on the door cut through the thick tension hanging between the both of you.

A sigh left your lungs and you fell back into the sheets underneath you. This couldn't be real. You whined, tears swelling up in your eyes again.

Boba noticed and started rubbing his hands up and down your legs. “Hey, hey. Calm down. We don't have to answer.”

It stayed silent for a while, a relieved feeling washed over your body. Boba started kissing your inner thighs again and just before he reached the spot where you needed him the most, the knock disturbed you once again.

“Kriffing hell.” The bounty hunter muttered to himself and got up. With large steps he went to the door and opened it just enough so the other person could see his face.

It was one of the maids. She looked at Boba with an apologizing look.

“I'm sorry to disturb you but our communication system received a call from your palace on Tatooine. There is a woman, called Fennec Shand and she wants to talk to you. She didn't say what it was about but she said it is urgent.”

He wanted to scream, wanted to tear down the whole palace. No, not now. His head turned into your direction. You looked at him with dove eyes, still shimmering from your previous tears. He couldn't do that now, both of you still in the middle of the reaction from this fruit. He was in pain too, but he knew it was worse for you. Turning his head he looked back at the maid.

“The woman is waiting for you.” Boba sighed. He knew it was wrong but he needed to know what Fennec thought was so urgent.

“Give me a second, I will be right there.”, he said before closing the door.

The man turned around and looked at you once more. He didn't want to go. His deepest desire, finally so close to him and his duty as the King of the Underworld keeping him away from reaching it.

“I have to go.”

“What?” Your body shot up from it's laying spot in the bed. A hand reached out to him and clutched at his sleeve. “No. No, please. You can't leave me now.”

“I have to, but it won't take long, I promise.” Boba gabbed the back of your head and pressed a kiss to your forehead. He was about to turn around, but you still didn't let go of him.

“Boba, stop. Please I- it still hurts. I can't take this anymore.” He looked at you, bringing his hand to your cheek.

“You can do it and while I'm gone you’re going to touch yourself again, you hear me? Prepare your pretty, little cunt for me and when I come back, I will give you everything you need.” Not waiting for another response from you, he freed his arm from your grip and walked out of the room.

#boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett #smut #sex pollen #the mandolorian #the book of boba fett

191 notes · View notes