#angst? i dunno if this counts as angst lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kithtaehyung · 8 months

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broken, pt. 2 (3tan) (m) | myg

title: broken (pt. 2) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1) rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: the championship game lights up... and everything goes down. note: not too much to say other than thank you. this part is definitely another very, very close one to my heart. please buckle up and enjoy the ride. warnings: [spice warnings under the cut] language, angst, tension, alcohol mention & consumption, fights, basketball!yoongi🧍‍♀️, cocky!yoongi, jimin😳, tense situations, did i say angst?, long hair yoongi, crying, bro😀, reader is a real one i don’t make the rules, arguments, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, saying softhours puts some of this lightly, bro🥲, blood/wound mentions, hurt/comfort, there’s just a lot in here y’all idek, taehyung being the best ever, …angst. drop date: february 9th, 2024, 10:37pm est word count: 17.7k my god

smut warnings: cursing, choking, light slapping, breast play, angry s*x a ha ha, crying, multiple explicit scenes y'all istg don't perceive me lol, c*nt slapping, penetrative s*x, brat!reader, protected s*x, edging, consent king ofc :), rough s*x, b*cksh*ts and a lot of them, ...unprotected s*x (yeah it's here and y'all better be responsible or so help me!!!), f*ngering, or*l (m/f rec), brat tamer!3tan yoongi!!!, reader loses themselves for a sec, but yoongi is a king, pain k*nk whewwww, kissing, so much kissing lmfao, c*m play, slight bond*ge (yoongi hands), spanking, aftercare ofc :'))

There’s no way.

How the fuck is he here? When did that horrible excuse of a guy even join a team? Had he been playing intramurals this whole time?

“No fuckin’ way.”

Your eyes find your brother standing rigid at your side, wrists tensed to hell and shoulders spiked. Did he not know he was playing, either? Judging by his smoldering question, you’re going to guess he wasn’t aware.

“Were they always on this team?”

“No.”

“I don’t remember them being on any teams.”

They? Them? So they recognize more from the court on that day you try to not think about. Shifting your vision, you start gauge reactions under sounds of the growing crowd.

It’s Yoongi that looks at you first, eyes lowering to the hand you still have on your arm damn it you should be okay about that night already. But you can’t seem to let your limb go, your fingers covering it in a weak attempt at protection and resilience.

The blaze in his eyes makes you shake. Even as you swallow your pleas for everyone to just go home, he doesn’t look away. Instead, he walks over to stand in front of your knees, motioning for you to scoot over one so he can take the end seat.

Normally, you would slightly question why he wouldn’t just sit next to you. But this time, you’re hyper aware of what he’s doing—and why. It’s so obvious that you wanna reach out and grip his sweaty hand.

Yoongi absolutely sat there to shield you.

And your heart burns and burns.

If only he could do more, be more, show more. Because with a rattled ego and tainted mind, you’re already yearning for his touch, wanting him to whisk you out of here and bring you back to the comfort of his home—just like he did that night.

God, he makes you dizzy doing absolutely nothing.

“What’s the plan,” he asks, eyes on the court and palms between his knees.

“Dunno yet.” Your brother shakes his head before looking back, eyes narrowing at the laughs on the other bench. “But I might get my ass thrown out if we—”

“Play.”

Immediately, all three of them snap their heads your way. Fuck, your arm is still…

One person cannot have this hold on you. There’s no way you’re going to let him control your every waking moment, and your determination bubbles into your commands. “Play the game and beat his ass,” you seethe, holding yourself together and aiming daggers everywhere. “Just make it quick.”

Yoongi gives you a look before Jimin snags him with an eyebrow raise.

“And you’re paying me double.”

Looking at the man beside you, it’s almost comforting seeing his attention fully on your face. If it weren’t for your ghost on the other side of the scoring table and your brother standing there, you wouldn’t hesitate to kiss him.

But you only nod, getting a huff and a lopsided curve in response before you watch him lock eyes with your brother, “What do you wanna do?”

After a long, resigned sigh, your sibling finally relents, “Fuck this shit up.”

Good. Yes. This is what you want—for you and them. “Exactly.”

Scanning around the tight circle, you notice that you have everyone’s attention.

But one person seems to send a question without any words at all. In kind, you answer the same way, wings battering your stomach when all of them send thunder to the court with lightning in their eyes.

Yoongi scoffs through a slant, carrying the air of someone you never want to mess with in your fucking life. “The fuckin’ nerve.”

Jimin hums, sliding a finger along his flexed to hell jaw. “Bold,” he adds. And his voice drop sends shivers when he turns to you,

“Don’t worry, love.”

You stare.

“This will be over soon.”

The game is… just a game. For now.

No one’s taunted hard other than a few smirks and winks, and right now it seems as if both teams are just being competitive more than antagonistic. Which relaxes you to the point where you’re cheering from the bench with the other players—and their coach that arrived late—jumping and yelling and clapping when things go in their favor.

Your brother’s slamming down dunks. Jimin’s been playing amazing defense with his quick reflexes and high stamina.

And Yoongi? Has gotten sickeningly sharp. All those late nights at the rec center are paying off in this championship and, when he scores a hard shot, the pride you feel launches you to your feet.

“Nice job, b—” Oh fuck you almost shout something that should never be public knowledge. Holding your tongue, you quickly switch it up with a hasty, “Let’s go!”

That was close. Way too close.

Get it together.

But you cannot help it right now. Seeing Yoongi facing off against the man you both wanna square up against? And making it look easy? The fluttering you feel in your belly grows double. Triple. Tenfold. His gestures, the way he acts like it’s nothing, his shrugs at their failed attempts to stop him—everything’s making you scratch proverbial walls and kick bench chairs.

And it’s not just him—the whole team has been playing excellently. Each play seems intentional; every pass and movement is strategic. If you didn’t know this was a casual rec game, you would think they’re gunning for a real, prestigious trophy.

However.

When it’s starting to be very clear who the better squad is, that’s when things start getting more than tense.

On a foul call, both sides start getting in each others’ faces. And you peg that as normal until someone on your team gets shoved and your brother immediately gets between the action.

Both you and the coach shoot up from your seats.

Shit, shit, shit. If there’s one thing your older sibling’s gonna do in this game, it’ll be finding any excuse to deck that man in the face. And once that happens, there’s no telling how many injuries are gonna walk off polished floors.

Thankfully, everyone separates without a ruckus, and timeout is called on your side. The crowd starts to yell in favor of either team, and that’s when you notice that Taehyung has been joined by Shiv and your friends. From the looks of things, all five of them are laser focused on you.

You hold a quick thumbs-up before you’re covered by hot and sweaty men huddling around the bench. And you immediately agree with their coach when he barks,

“I need you all to calm down.”

“No can do, coach.”

“Not if they aren’t.”

Shit. All of them look fucking livid, not giving any shits whatsoever if they’re willing to talk back to their leader. What’s really been happening on the court? Has it been even more tense than you perceived?

Oblivious to the context behind this matchup, their coach keeps yelling, “Look, I don’t give a shit if you have something to settle. Play the game and leave it on the floor. Understood?” When there’s charged silence, he yells it even louder.

And a smattering of agreement comes out before all of you hear an even bigger yelling session booming from the other bench. When you look over, it’s quickly noticeable that they’re getting reamed over there, too.

Jimin watches before speaking, and it seems like your coach’s pleas fell on deaf ears, “Fifteen went for my legs.”

“Saw that. Let’s switch cus he can’t guard me.”

“K.” Park swivels his head to address someone else. “You good to keep playing?”

Your brother responds with a nod, wiping his never-ending sweat. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Huh. Even though you know he’s mad, the man seems… Calm. Eerily calm. It’s reminding you of the way he acted after you came home from Yoongi’s.

And you don’t like it one bit.

But the timeout is over, and both teams eye each other on their walk back onto the court. As it continues, the gym erupts into life again, with a bit of back and forth shots racking the scoreboard up.

And Yoongi keeps scoring. And scoring. And scoring.

Which lands him in a bit of trouble when the same idiot from Dalo pushes him during a layup. After he manages to make the shot, Yoongi immediately flicks him off—which gets a whistle blown. Which also means he has to sit on the bench for a second because his coach is pissed.

Ignoring the scathing remarks being thrown, he dumps himself next to you. And you immediately feel the heat roll off of him in waves, trying hard to focus on the game. “Don’t be stupid,” you jut out.

“What?”

“Don’t be stupid. These guys aren’t worth it.”

“After what he did to you?”

The way those words leave his mouth ice you over, flares spiraling through every fiber of your being. Your reaction is so visceral that you can barely get your response out, “Yeah, but…”

Leaning on his knees, Yoongi wipes his forehead with a crinkled to hell jersey, excess sweat pinging onto his sneakers. The crowd is loud and the buzzers even louder, but they aren’t enough to drown out his bite,

“I can’t let that shit go.”

“Yoongi.”

“Sorry, doll.”

“Please just—”

Yoongi leaves the bench before you can finish, and you whip your head in a rush, hands jutting out in a desperate attempt to hold him back.

Only for him to be just out of reach.

After halftime, it’s a whole different game.

From an outside perspective, it’s as if everyone was using the first half to sniff each other out, circling around each other before deciding how and when to go in for the kill.

And Yoongi isn’t the only one that you’re starting to worry about. Jimin, your brother, and even Rohan and the other guys are on edge, playing hard and doing everything they can to keep their scoring lead.

Both you and their coach know you can’t stop whatever’s going on out there. And you’re starting to feel yourself getting angry at how your brother and them are egging the guys on.

Why are they taunting? What the hell is making them so bent on making the other team pissed? Yes, all that went down with you, but nothing else had happened since then. And they clearly aren’t listening to anyone telling them to calm down.

If they end up starting shit you are going to—the fuck!

Yoongi gets straight shoved again as he goes for a layup, and you shoot up in your chair as he hits the back wall with a thud. While the players at your side are yelling and everyone on the court starts grouping in shouts, you stay rigid, solely watching Yoongi eye his attacker—the same idiot from Dalo.

Fuck everything, you wanna rush into the fray and throw hands yourself because that looked painful.

The only thing that’s stopping you is the chilling fact that Yoongi is… Grinning.

Wiping his curved lips, he waits while the refs break up the squabble, still looking triumphant as he walks to the line to shoot his free throws. When both of them are made, he stares directly at your assaulter—as you finally call it like it is—and doesn’t stop even when the coward looks away.

A whistle blows, and the game continues to be close. Too close, too close, too close. A couple more timeouts let you see just how laser-focused everyone is, and you’re a little shaken when it feels like they forgot you were even occupying their bench.

What the hell is being said on the court? Even Jimin is brimming with anger.

But after a few back and forths, Yoongi passes to your brother for a hard dunk, basket ringing from his throwdown and shaking when he lands.

Thank god. Those points are enough. They’re gonna win.

All the pent up anxiety you’ve harbored all game releases as everyone starts cheering, and your pride soars as your boys stare down their opponents while the clock winds down.

It’s over. The game is over, nothing too serious happened, and you can all go the fuck home to eat dinner and celebrate.

Your eyes catch Yoongi throwing a rudely lopsided curve across the court. Even when Jimin comes up to push him back in excitement, his expression doesn’t change.

And you find that wildly, unfathomably attractive.

Then, as it goes, your brother comes up and they all share quick daps, eyes ablaze and not letting the losers out of their sight.

Well. All of them are infamous for a reason. You would guess their energy altogether certainly contributes to that. Because the aura you feel oozing from them fills the gymnasium all the way up to your knees.

And the sigh you let out mingles with their coach’s shake of his head.

Things are still tense as they all shake hands—or at least offer hands to shake—with the other team. The atmosphere is even a little iced when they receive their trophy.

But the way you’re currently being surrounded as your guys converse hides you from plain sight, so you feel heavily protected. Even Jimin, who’s usually cheerful even when exhausted, wields sharp eyes as he keeps glancing over his shoulder.

Honestly? You wouldn’t know what to do without them. Both your brother and all his friends, good pasts or not, are great people. They didn’t need to shield you like this. But they’re doing it anyway, because they won’t give that lowlife another reason or chance to approach you.

Yeah. Your older sibling knows how to choose his circle.

It’s making you wonder if…

Nah.

That’s still too big a reach.

When it seems like all of them and their cheering squad are gone, everyone starts making their way over to the bleachers—and you’re acutely reminded of what went down under similar looking ones the other night.

Your shivers are overshadowed by Yuri’s telltale screams to Rohan, “You were so good, baby! Are you okay?”

Reia and Dom shake their heads before focusing on you, the latter being the spokeswoman, “So what was all that for?”

“Don’t ask,” you sigh, knowing exactly what she’s referring to. “I’m just glad they won and that we can go home.”

“You’re not coming to Yuri’s?” Reia asks. “I thought we planned on that, no?”

Ah, shit. Earlier this week, you did make plans with them without really thinking about what day they were gonna fall on. But now you’re so mentally drained that you kinda just wanna go—

“Is anyone else starving? I’m hungry as fuck!”

Right. Food. Adrenaline made you forget you were starving. Glancing towards your brother, you quickly remind him, “Yeah, me. And you’re paying.”

“Ah, shit, that’s right.” As he lets out a hard groan and deals with Jimin and Yoongi’s comments, your sibling relents, “Alright, where are we going.”

“Up to you,” you shrug, stealing a little look at the man you want to kiss like hell for his performance tonight.

God, Yoongi’s so handsome. As Jimin leaves his side, he silently wipes his forehead of any excess sweat, hands and shoulders shining in the lights wait wait wait. Hold on.

Walking over, you toss any care about who notices you out the window. And as he eyes your approach, you murmur with care and concern, “Is your back okay?”

Blinking once, twice, the man nods. “Yeah, it’s all good.”

“You sure? That looked…”

Of course he decides that now is the perfect time to rake his sweaty locks back. Speaking so low that only you can hear, Yoongi reassures with a fist full of hair, “I’m fine, doll.”

Motherfucker.

Pinning down your urge to reach out and smother him, you only breathe relief. And before you move away to put some distance between, you whisper, “Thank you.”

Yoongi looks your way again. “For what?”

Swallowing what’s left of your anxiety, you sigh. “For not getting into it out there. I was about to get mad as hell, but.. Looks like they were all talk.”

“Mm.”

Honestly? It’s a miracle. The game’s over without any hitches or brawls? More relief starts blossoming in your chest, prompting a smile to grace your features. “You looked so good out there, by the way. I almost called you ba—”

“What are y’all talking about over there!”

Your mouth snaps shut as soon as you see your brother watching, but Yoongi is quick to fire off an insult, “The way you always take so long to pick something.”

“I picked already!”

“Then let’s go then.”

Laughing, you join the whole crew as you’re all the last ones to walk out. Your friends and Shiv parked in another lot since one side was already full, so you tell them you’ll meet at the restaurant.

Some other teammates decide to join, with jerseys being shucked off as everyone heads out the door. Immediately, body odor swoops into your nose, making you welcome the crisp, fresh air of night.

Scratch that. You smell oncoming rain.

Conversations cease, which only leaves the sound confirming your observation: booming, rolling thunder. Stopping at the edge of the gym’s awning, multiple heads turn up at the rumbles, watching lightning crack the sky.

In front of you, Jimin shifts his head to the side. “Still?”

And when you look at who he’s asking, you see Yoongi nod.

Weird.

But it’s not raining just yet, so all of you make your way into the lot and to your cars. As you do, you check your phone while making your way over, aiming a question at Tae, “You know where we’re going?”

“Yeah, it’s not far,” he responds, fishing out his own device. “I think we’ve been there before.”

We? Looks like things are progressing nicely over there. Since you’re lingering behind the guys, you start to take a small jab, “We, huh? Cute.”

Lips spread as tight as his eyes, Taehyung parries. “Cute? Look who’s talking, miss whipped.”

“You’re whipped.”

“No, you.”

“No, you,” you giggle out, reaching out to tickle Tae’s side and laughing as he flinches away. You chase him for a few seconds before you see his whole body freeze completely, asking a small question before going quiet.

And when you slowly follow his line of vision, your heart freefalls to your gut, smashing it so hard you feel bile sting the back of your throat.

The man from Dalo. And all the guys from the court plus some.

Surround both Jimin’s and your brother’s cars.

Fuck. Oh, fuck, there’s so many of them, standing and waiting and unflinching in the bursts of thunder inching closer and closer what the fuck are you gonna do—

“Taehyung.”

Your eyes shake.

“Get her out of here. Now.”

And you’ve never screamed so loud.

Every word rips out of your mouth before you’re promptly shushed by large fingers, icicles pinging around your heart and holding it down, “Don’t fucking do thi—!”

To your horror, Tae’s already hauling you back, voice low and firm in your ear, “Come on.”

“No! What the fuck—”

“We’re leaving.”

“Please—!”

There are so many of them. So, so many of them. Panic drowns out your words and excess leaks out of your eyes, your own storm preventing you from seeing that your best friend is just as torn apart.

“Babe, we have to go now.”

“No, let me go!”

They’re outnumbered. What if they have weapons? What if the police are called? What if something happens that you aren’t prepared for?

You’re screaming. Curses, their names, or whatever whatever you don’t even know what the fuck you’re saying because your toes are kissing the edge of madness.

Dragged a good distance away, your yells devolve into incoherency, your nose and eye sockets smashing into Taehyung’s solid forearm so hard it hurts.

Make it out, make it out, make it out. For the love of everything in the fucking universe and beyond it, make it out alive.

Some movements and backs straightening are the last things you see before getting pulled around the corner.

And when Yoongi calmly rolls one of his shoulders, you feel a wick of your soul burn out.

Panic. Worry. Panic and more panic. The car ride that Tae paid for is the blurriest muddy water you’ve ever waded through.

Truthfully, you don’t even remember blankets being pulled over your shoulder. Where even are you? Oh, you’re in a bed. Whose bed are you in because this isn’t yours. But what does it matter anyway what does anything matter anyway nothing matters there’s nothing you can do you gotta get up and go back over there get up get up go—

As soon as you yank his bedroom door open, Taehyung is there, holding you back and pushing your frantic energy back inside. “Tae, if you don’t let me—”

“Do what!”

“I’m going back!” Wrestling out of his strong hold, you bolt down his hallway, head clanging as your shoulder bumps into a wall. “We need to go back—”

“Stop!” You hear running as you burst through the living room, whizzing past the glowing television. “We have to stay here—”

No no no. There’s no way you’re staying here when you need to be back at that lot. Who the fuck would call for help if anyone needs it? When they’re gonna need it? Your vision proves so blurry you can’t even find your shoes—

Arms wrap around your waist and you fight back with a scream, “Let me go!”

“Stop and just think for a second—”

“Why aren’t you with me on this, they’re—”

“Dumb as fuck!”

Your friend’s quick comment is so sharp it cuts your breath. As you still in his firm but comforting hold, you finally stop to breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe as you’re turned to level a look with his eyes.

Eyes that are red-rimmed and so, so raw. “They’re idiots,” Taehyung grits out. “But they will be alright.”

From the shake of his voice, you find that neither of you think that for sure.

“I need to.. To…” Your breaths are ragged, energy spent and head dizzy from your quick exit from his bed. As you come down from your volcanic high, every weight the world places on your back proves too much.

“You need to relax,” Tae advises, guiding you further back inside. And you don’t speak as he leads you past the couch, past the pictures on his hallway wall, and into the dark of his bedroom.

Maybe it’s over. Right? Maybe someone will answer if you ring them up. “Call. I need to call…”

“Shh,” he soothes again, walking you backwards away from his door. When the bends of your knees hit his bed, Taehyung lets you down slowly until you’re sitting. “I’ll do it.”

Brain fried from hyperactivity, you can only nod.

Your friend steps away to fiddle with his phone, the light illuminating his beautiful features in the night. When he holds it to his ear, this is when you hear rain and the television in the living room, noticing that it’s playing a movie he watches for comfort.

Shit. He’s going through it just like you are, and yet he’s still finding energy to calm your nerves? What have you even done to deserve him?

Guess you know how to choose your circle, too.

Going unanswered, Taehyung lowers his hand, thumb rubbing the homescreen before gripping the device hard.

Both of you are in the same boat. So steer when he can’t do it anymore. Soft but assertive, you rise to your feet, offering your embrace while calling his name, “..Tae.”

When he turns, the man wastes no time in dropping his phone to bring you in close. “It’ll be okay,” he murmurs, and you hear his words on your head but feel the trembles in his chest. “Okay?”

Feeble fingers grab at his soft shirt, and you bury into his scent while soaked and tired eyes shut.

You want to believe him. You do. You do.

But hope may be a bitch.

So you don’t.

Forever passes while you both lie still in his bed, with Taehyung holding you close and keeping you subdued with notes of honey and wood. You both try to have conversation, but it’s disjointed and manufactured, so giving up is a group effort.

You’re about to give up on a lot of things before you both jolt at Tae’s phone vibrating.

The world shifts quick as you both sit up, the call immediately being accepted and a low greeting whooshing at your side, “Hey.”

With bated breath, you hear Jimin on the line. “Hey.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, we’re all alright, but…”

We. We, we, we, all of them thank the fucking world. As your breath is held, Taehyung’s voice is solid, “Say it.”

“My eye is pretty fucked. Yoongi’s face is cut up and he’s got some nasty bruises on his—”

You don’t even remember yanking the phone to your mouth. “Where is he.”

Jimin audibly pauses on the line before having the audacity to chuckle. Irked and feeling ire bubble back to the surface, you seethe, “This isn’t funny, Park. Where the fuck is he?”

“With us.” Us. Shit. “In the car.”

Oh.

“Your brother’s here, too.”

“Ah.” That means they’re all there. They’re all heading home. “Am I on speaker.”

“Umm.. Yeah.”

As much as you’re relieved they’re all okay, stockpiled anxiety transforms into anger, your limit striking the thundering sky. “Actually, you know what? Good. Now I can say you’re all idiots and immature as fuck.”

It’s your sibling that responds first. “Hey, wait a damn minute—”

“I waited long enough!” you scream, ignoring Taehyung’s wide eyes.

You know you need to relax. But you can’t help what’s happening right now and all you feel is pain. “I know this shit isn’t new to y’all, but really? You didn’t need to do this.”

“He was gonna—”

“All you had to do was play the game! Why’d you have to make them mad? Do you even know what could’ve happened back there?” Damn it, you weren’t supposed to cry during this part, not when you just want them to know they fucked up.

And the response is dead silence. Because of course it is. But if they won’t answer you here, they’re gonna answer another, “Just tell me one thing,” you plead. “Is this gonna happen again?”

That one your brother answers with finality. “They won’t be coming around anymore.”

Gulping, you give Taehyung a glossy-eyed look before staring at his lit screen again. Trying not to let your voice waver, you accept his response, “Okay… Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah, the hits I took were weak as fuck. I’ll get home soon so if you wanna order in tonight we can.”

“Fuck that.”

“Huh?”

What an idiot. “Bro, you don’t even know how fucking mad I am,” you accuse through gritted teeth. There’s no way in hell you wanna deal with their bullshit. Ignoring your pleas and staring harm in the face? Forget it. “I’m going to Yuri’s.”

“What? Nah, come home tonight and we’ll talk.”

“I just—No.” Taehyung has to grip your shoulder before pulling you into a hug. And you’re still steel in his arms because you haven’t been this upset in ages. “I’m not talking to any of you for awhile.”

And you mean that.

“…Fine. But go asap then. I don’t want you out late on your own.”

So you gotta listen to what he wants but when it comes to what you say, it’s crickets? Goddamn, you’re furious. “…Of course you don’t.”

And you hang up before anyone can say anything else.

You open the front door to your brother leaning against the hallway wall.

Both of you eye each other, one of you with a perfectly fine face and the other that isn’t so lucky because he’s a fool.

And no words are exchanged as you trudge your frustration to the kitchen.

Ice. Bandages. Dinner. Anger propels you through it all.

Whipping up a quick but hearty meal, you let your brother patch himself up after demanding he showered. The smells of comfort food waft through your nose as things sizzle on the stove and, through the whole process, you don’t think about anything except how upset you are.

They’re all okay. But like Taehyung so abruptly put it, they’re all stupid.

As you turn off your burner, you transfer everything to a bowl, sighing so loud it seasons the top with fire. When you approach the bar, your actions speak pretty damn loud—the dish clank shoving out a question from your sibling,

“Is there something you wanna say to me?”

“There’s a bunch of shit I wanna say to you.”

“It’s about Yoongi,” he asks, the absence of hesitation making your insides squeeze. “Isn’t it.”

But luckily for you, your rage is so potent that it overruns your fear. As soon as your brother stands up and starts to repeat his question, your correction clangs through the room,

“It’s about all of you! You say you wanna be there for me but what the fuck will doing this shit do?”

Freezing, the man waits in shock as you keep going, “Yes, that guy deserves hell. I was so scared when he grabbed me at the club.” You stop to swallow. “But I had them both there and we left.”

Fuck, this is hard. Having to relive that shit is difficult but you need your brother—and all of them, for that matter—to know how hurt you feel right now. Mustering up enough bravery to get to the goddamn point, you finally squeak out,

“If I lose them? Lose you? Because of something as stupid as a fight?” Your eyes search his, and your heart cracks when you see glassy sheen amongst his bruises. “What would I do then?”

You expect silence. And silence is what you get. It’s drawn out, loud, and telling. “We know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” he whispers, eyes lifting to meet yours with sincerity. “And we’re sorry.”

Another moment passes between the two of you, the food you made left uneaten on the counter and the rest sitting still on the stove. But you know your sibling will eat it all tonight, whether you’re there or not.

And you step forward at the same time he holds his battered arms out.

Freshly showered, he still smells like rain and exertion. But his heart beats under your chest, he’s present, and back home—things you need to stop taking for granted.

But you’re still mad. And getting things off your chest has only made you tired, so you decide that it’s finally time to go before you circle back to other scary territory brought up tonight. “I’m leaving now,” you announce as you step away. “But just think about that.”

“I will.”

“I’m serious.”

“I will.”

Staring, you take note of his cuts and injuries, wondering how the others are faring even though you don’t wanna deal with anything else. Because it hurts too much, and if you see who you’re thinking about, there’s no telling what you’d do if you were like this with your brother. There’s no telling how you’d…

No. You choose to go the easy route this time. Everyone can simmer in their sore, swelling consequences while you have a night of de-stressing with your friends.

So you leave to go pack without another word.

It’s raining.

Hard.

And even though your car is heading to Yuri’s, your heart is beating backwards. Tugging you somewhere else and not letting up.

With a ping of chill, you can’t shake it. Braking at a stop sign close to your destination, you sit in silence, letting the rain pelt every side of your vehicle and wondering what the hell to do.

Truthfully? Your brother looked like shit. But your body isn’t telling you to go back to the house, which can only mean one other place. And you know for a fact you don’t wanna talk to him, either.

So fucking upsetting. They did all that for what? You can barely keep your thoughts in a row because they keep yelling at jostling each other just like everybody did on the court. If anyone had to fight the dipshit, it should've been you.

Fuck! Your head connects with the wheel, an inner monster rumbling with the thunder because you’re so fed up with everything that happened.

Your brain is the one yelling. But your heart is begging for it to listen. Go to Yuri’s? Go to Yoongi’s. Find shelter in that warm bed of hers and sink in her plushies to comfort you?

A sigh. Maybe you can at least call him to tell him off one more time. He needs to hear what you told your brother because if you ever, ever lose him—

Your eyes burn.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

No answer.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

Pick up. What the fuck.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

…Turn the fuck around shit, shit, shit.

Curses flying, you whip your vehicle in a flash, heart pounding so loud it’s blocking out the storm. Which is morbidly impressive considering how horridly it’s pouring.

Thinking in leaps, you pivot and make another decision. Tell her and make it all quick.

Yuri: Outgoing Call

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m not coming.”

“You okay?”

“I’m going to Yoongi’s.”

“Yoongi’s? Why?”

Ah, shit. Oh, fuck. She doesn’t know.

Banging the steering wheel, you smash your teeth, stressed as hell from braving the rain in the dark and now snitching on yourself to someone else.

Damn it. What do you say? What can you possibly even say when you’re so mad and stressed and conflicted and worried—

“Hello?”

“Because he’s the one,” you whoosh out, your vision quivering twice as much as it should. “And things went down after the game and now something feels wrong.”

“Oh, shit. Is that why y’all didn’t come to—”

“Yes.” When you say all this out loud, now it has weight. Horrifying weight on your chest and a block pushing down on the gas. You hear a bit of shuffling on the line, and you’re starting to get so anxious that you blurt, “Please don’t say anything. Please.”

“I won’t. Not about this.”

“Thank you.”

“Hang up, babe. Make it safe.”

“Okay.”

Go, go, go. Please, just get there.

Letting up, you change your speed, hoping to everything good in the world that this feeling you have is only a feeling and nothing more.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

What a strange emotion, wanting his reason for not picking up solely being because he doesn’t wanna talk to you. That is an answer you can deal with.

But you still can’t fight off the jagged pulses telling you it’s something else.

After an agonizing drive, you finally see his complex, tensing harder the further and further away you have to park.

Whipping into a spot, you screech into it before hauling your bag out, popping the trunk and desperately grabbing a plastic box you always keep inside.

And the mad dash drenches you long before you seek cover, your bones shivering shivering shivering from the chill.

Yoongi has to be home. His car is here.

But he still won’t pick up the fucking phone.

Skidding at his door, your knocks are rapid, knuckles singed from the ice cold wraps.

Answer, answer, answer. For fuck’s sake, he better answer.

After a haunting moment of silence, you decide to call one more time, head wet and bones shivering as you press the phone to your damp ear.

Finally. “Hello.”

“Open the door,” you jump into commanding, hearing nothing other than a voice that sounds so crushed and low that it crumples you inside.

“You’re here?”

“Yeah, let me in.” Fuck, your teeth are clattering against each other, whether it’s from the rain, the cold, or anger, you can’t tell.

But the reply you get is the coldest thing imaginable. And it sets your whole body aflame.

“Not tonight.”

Hell no. Hell fucking no Yoongi is not going to get rid of you that easily. Not when you have a boatload of things to say and only one dock to dump them all on, “Yoongi, I swear to god—”

“Not tonight—”

“—you don’t let me in I’m—”

“Go home—”

“I’m fucking staying out here until you open the goddamn door!”

Oh, you’re pissed. You’re so fucking pissed because this all could’ve been avoided if none of them were stupid. Or prideful. Or whatever the fuck boys decide to be when they can’t let something go.

And this man still has the audacity to give you the stiff arm, silence on the line before he rasps out another short, “I’m serious.”

“No.”

“Go home.”

“No!”

He says your name. So, so softly, before a gut-wrenching,

“Please.”

Breath shaken, you rest your forehead against chilly wood, hoping it quells the fire you feel rising from your rib cage.

You can’t give up. Not when you have so much to say. Not when you have to check on him and make sure he’s fine.

Not when you give into the strongest premonition that you need to be nowhere else but with him tonight.

You will stay. Stay, stay, stay. Even if he doesn’t want to see you.

Voice trembling in rage and concern and everything in between, you feel your eyes sear through when they close, mission boiling down to one more desperate choice,

“…No.”

You’re cold. And wet. But you will stand out here for as long as it takes him to let you inside—a night, a day, no matter what.

And for a moment. Or a few. You think he’s dead set on making you prove that.

But you finally, finally, finally hear a sigh before a lock turn, and you try to prepare yourself for what you see but he opens the door and his face comes into view holy shit he looks like a wreck—

“What the fuck,” you grit out as you rush in with vision swimming, digging into your bag for the medkit you hastily stashed and swinging off your sandals because you gotta get something in the—

A hand grips you hard, tugging you back before you even register what’s happening.

As your feet stumble back onto linoleum, your gaze snaps to the ground.

And your breath cuts like it’s your last.

Shards.

Pieces.

Thousands of wood and glass chips litter the entire open area of the living room.

And realizing where they came from strikes like lightning.

Fuck. Oh, fuck, what did Yoongi do?

“I told you, doll.”

You choke on a sob.

“Go home.”

Your breaths return before you straighten, tears flowing freely as you don’t know whether to start cleaning up the chaos or finally facing the one who caused it.

No, no, no. Get rid of it.

Throw it out, all of it, all of it.

A new fire roars to life, forging your steeling commitment as you wrestle out of Yoongi’s hold.

What did he do, what did he do?

Revving with smoke out of your ears, you burn a path to the kitchen, grabbing a trash bag before marching into the wreckage. Up go the biggest pieces first, chucked into plastic before the smaller ones follow.

Throw it all. This one, this one, and this one.

Yoongi isn’t even wearing shoes. He can cut himself up even more if this all stays where it is.

Shit, this is everywhere.

When you realize you’re gonna need a broom, you storm back into his laundry closet to yank one out and keep going. When you go to sweep, the sharpest voice cuts through your fingers.

“Stop.”

Your grit grips the tool even tighter. Because you won’t. Don’t dare look into his expression, either, because you know that one glance will melt every scream on your tongue. So you stay resolute and shoot rejection to the ground, “No.”

“Just go, please.”

“No.”

This hurts.

This really, really hurts.

Yoongi has never, ever said these things to you and it feels like a knife jabbing into the same spot over, and over again. You almost prefer three new months of no contact over whatever the hell this is.

But you have to keep going. Eyes clenching, lips wobbling, you must keep going.

Because you came here for a reason other than this mess. And he’s gonna have to do better than this to kick you back out into the rain.

“I got it.”

“Let me do it.”

“Your brother needs you.”

“Yeah, well, I already tore the fuck into him and I’m gonna do the same to you.” You harden your fist on the sweeper, tugging it more towards your shoulder with finality. And you gather all the energy you need to leave no more room for arguments, because Yoongi is going to listen, “So sit down.”

It hurts.

He wants to say shit. You know he wants to.

But he only breathes hard with eyes closed, following your orders and carrying his dark clouds to the dining room.

When he finally leaves you alone, this is when you look his way.

In sweats and a shirt, he appears fine. But with a deep pang, you notice he’s slightly limping. Judging from those knuckles, you wonder if they’re red from the fight or from hitting another wall of his apartment.

Or from whatever the fuck happened around your feet.

Shit.

While he dumps himself at his table, you clean up the pieces of his rampage, mentally noting that one plan of yours has now changed.

This one. These, too. A string here. A metal piece there.

You don’t know how long it takes you. All you know is that you’re burning inside, determined to clean everything and sweep this chaotic energy away.

One more. Two more. Another one here.

As soon as you’re done, you lug the trash bag out of the front door and don’t give a shit what happens to it now.

Keep going. There’s more that you need to take care of.

The fuel inside of you rages on, anger conflicting with anxiety and past worries and sadness for something that didn’t even happen. As you spin, you vow yourself to keep pushing until you can’t anymore.

Sniffling. Shivering. But staying strong because things could’ve gone a lot worse.

Yoongi meets you by the table, messy, damp hair shielding his features. “You’ve done enough.”

“I still need to—”

“Just.” He looks away. “Go home, doll. I can’t do this tonight.”

“Do what? I’m helping you.”

That’s what you do for each other, right? You both help each other. But now you’re not so sure because Yoongi comes back with not an acknowledgement, nor a way of relenting.

But ice.

“Who said I needed it?”

And in all the time you’ve spent with this man, this is the first time you’ve felt downright cold. “Yoongi, what?” Your eyes travel across his face, chest caving in when there’s barely any hints of vitality. “Are you serious?”

“You think I’m joking?”

“You’re kicking me out? What happened to saying you’d never do that, huh?”

“I say a lot of things.”

…Oh.

That hurt. That… That physically couldn’t have hurt any harder.

Nodding, you look away, shaking your head in disbelief because you are on the verge of losing it. “You know what? You do say a lot of things.”

Walking away, you start rearranging pillows on the couch pushed askew. “Like how perfect I am.” Picking up his books from the now non-existent coffee table. “And how there’s no one else.”

As you give the volumes a new home on his intact tv stand, you turn to face him again. “Those are just words, too, huh?”

Yoongi kicks his head back with a smile, one that cuts instead of mends. “Nah… Not tonight.”

“Not tonight what.”

“We aren’t doing this tonight.”

“The fuck we aren’t.” It’s his turn to walk away, with a slow head shake that you really don’t like. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” Yoongi shifts his head to the side, but not enough for you to fully see him. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want you to. “But you’re going home.”

Something’s off. There’s something completely off but all you feel is sadness and rejection in your ribcage. “So this is how it happens, huh. Now I’m just like everyone else.”

He finally faces you, miles away even though you’re just rooms apart. “You’re gonna go there?”

“I am.”

“Wow.”

That’s what he comes back with? This is gutting you from the inside out and you have no idea what’s happening but now rage is flaring into your mouth, “You think I wanted to come here? After what all of you did?”

“Do you even know?”

“No! But how the fuck would I? You don’t tell me shit!”

“That’s cus—”

Your response sears over his floors, “I can take care of myself. But none of you told me about that dude from the court. None of you.” Breath shaken, you continue dumping out all your thoughts and previous concerns, “If I had known? That whole Dalo thing could’ve been avoided and I would’ve ran.”

For a person that you’ve come to know as so warm, Yoongi’s entire aura freezes you over as you keep talking. “And today? You know how fucking scared I was? If I… I…”

All he does is stare. Why isn’t he doing anything else? Is he really flipping the switch and choosing to legitimately let you leave this time?

Fine then.

“You know what?” Giving up, you laugh—harsh, and breathy, and without any joy at all. “Forget it. You’re not even listening anyway.”

“I swear to—I just said not tonight.”

Frustration from the game, fear from the ambush after, anxiety from not hearing from them. All of it coalesces into something you can’t even control anymore. Your buffer shuts off, the monster you created seizing the reins, “No, I get it. I do! You want me gone. Sure. See you in three more months.”

Stunned, Yoongi huffs in disbelief, jaw working overtime. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am. Trying to help you but it looks like you don’t even want that. So good fucking bye.”

And it looks like he has a beast of his own because his next response to your last attempt has you reeling back in shock,

“Who asked you?”

Dark liquid drips onto your soul.

You can only stare, unblinking and feeling like you’re in an entirely different universe. “Who asked me? Who asked me.”

“That’s what I said.”

Forget the question of who asked you because… Who are you even talking to? Who is this person standing in front of you because it’s not the Yoongi you know. It’s so jarring and hurtful and strange that you truly feel thrust into the middle of a nightmare.

You’re gonna do it. You’re actually gonna leave this time.

“You know what? Kiss my ass, Yoongi.”

God, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

It hurts.

You don’t even know where this is all coming from. All you know is that you’re angry and there’s no stopping the hot magma bubbling in your center.

Silence fills the room.

And it rains. It pours.

But finally, you hold a sob back before burning a shaky path to his door, wrestling with the lock before yanking it open—

Only to have it shut back in your face, so thrown when you realize you’re getting spun. Air whooshes out of you before your shoulder blades connect with wood—

And this is the goddamn breaking point. The walls you haphazardly built to keep you upright collapse and tumble. It’s so potent and blinding that you don’t even realize your hands are connecting with his chest in the weakest, saddest ways and you are outright screaming.

“God, what the fuck! I told you to—We didn’t hear from you for hours and I—I didn’t know if you were okay—”

“Whoa, hold u—”

“I thought the worst and I—didn’t even get a chance to—I finally told you want I wanted and you—Fuck—”

“Just listen—”

“Don’t ever do that again! I don’t wanna lose you and today was so fucking scary and I’m not, fucking, leaving—”

Your lips are smashed to hell, his lips bruising so hard you feel it in the back of your skull. And it’s a whole storm as Yoongi pins you against the door, leg wedging between yours and his hands gripping you like a vice. It’s intense. It’s overwhelming.

“I swear to—”

You don’t know what to do. What to do what to do what to do, and all your madness jangles as you’re yanked and slammed against another wall, breath leaping into his open mouth before you tug at his hair, digging anger through his shoulders.

“Can’t fucking listen, can you?”

“No,” you rip from your throat, shoving him back only to gravitate right back and lock lips again.

And he rips at your clothes, tearing the front of your shirt so far your chest emerges on full display. Before you can even react to the cuts on his face, Yoongi’s hand clenches around your throat, making you gargle just how you fucking want to right now.

“Shouldn’t even fucking be here.”

“When has that ever stopped us.” You groan as you get rapidly led back into something hard, and you realize it’s the dining table digging into your ass.

“He’s still home.”

“So?”

“Shouldn’t you—”

“Then kick me out!” you taunt. “For real. Let me go. Fucking do it then.”

Yoongi works his jaw before gripping tighter, making you groan and your gut flare into something primal. Nostrils flaring, he moves to grip your head hard enough to make your stomach flip but not firm enough to scare you.

Never to scare you. “You aren’t gonna leave me alone.”

Your eyes are ice.

“Are you.”

You solely watch in determination, breath harsh from your nose and billowing out like steam. Drilling your answer into his eyes, you charge the surrounding air enough to spark like the flashing sky outside.

And Yoongi cracks like lightning.

“Goddamn it.”

Everything happens at once and in quick succession. Teeth grit to hell, Yoongi pulls you upward before fast stepping you to his bedroom, slamming you through the door before you shove him right into his desk.

Things teeter and shake and clang with each impact, your storm disrupting everything in its path and creating a tornado of desire and thoughts in your brain.

Something swirls and twists between your souls, tightening and condensing into emotions darker than midnight. And as angry as you are, it’s slipping into a dangerous mania, and you’ve never been this excited for anything in your life.

“Stubborn.”

“Coward.”

Your back stings as you’re pushed back into his door, the wood smacking into the spackle of his wall. Rough lips smother yours as you claw at his shoulders, neck, hair, and you hear him growl into your mouth,

“Want me to kiss your ass? Suck my dick then we’ll talk.”

“Fuck you. I give better head than you anyway.”

His words rival the deepest growl, “Prove it.”

“Make me.”

Whirlwind. Storm. Tempest. At this point, it’s a whole goddamn high. Your body is thrumming and the only way to feed your anger is to channel it through actions.

And truth be told, you need this. You both do. With all the high strung emotions that had nowhere to go until you collided?

This is liberation.

You’re shoved onto your knees before Yoongi dives into his pants, and you’re already hungry and impatient enough to help him shrug his sweats down before he can do it himself.

“Choke on it,” he commands, holding his dick and watching as you note how hard he already is. When you waste no time taking him in, you elicit the deepest groan you’ve ever pulled from him when you fling spit onto his length.

Maybe his reaction is to your face. Because you’re still mad as fuck and you aren’t done letting him know that.

With a passing thought, you realize that this is all new. But you’re welcoming it because it’s working. Only Yoongi can bring out this passion even in anger, or maybe the two of you were going to get to this point no matter what.

“Fuck.” He steadies the bottom of your chin while you suck him off. “Uh huh. Got anything else to say?”

You flick him off, and he hums with a rumble, his cock reacting and hitting the back of your prideful throat.

“Fuck you, too, doll.” His talks devolve into hisses, grunts, moans when you slobber all over yourself, and your cunt is already dripping with your own slick. “There you go. Gonna take it all? Or are you gonna keep running that mouth?”

And you pop off before taunting, “Find out, pussy.”

And you’re swallowing him before he shoves you all the way forward, your body arching up in a gag but filled with him him him, your nose flat against his pelvis and his dick squeezing tears from your eyes and your throat overstuffed to hell and there’s no way he’s gonna forget this moment. You’re making damn sure of it.

Another middle finger raises as you’re tensing around him, and you can barely hear him above you but you do know he’s massively pleased. Tears stream down your eyes when you’re yanked off, gasping for air and being pulled off the ground.

“Holy fuck.”

Throat hoarse, you attempt speech but it doesn’t matter anyway, because his lips steal them all. And your cunt is slapped with a whole palm, making you flinch and shoot out a whine into his kiss.

Before you know it, your body hits the bed before he joins you, arms bulging as he rips your top open completely. You can’t even think straight as he teases your earlier efforts, “I’ve had better.”

“Oh, you fucking—Shut the fuck up,” you growl, a moan leaving without permission as he palms your cunt again. Just when you think he’s gonna top you, Yoongi hauls you up, hastily leading you around the bed until your back connects with another wall.

You love that shit. And you’re starting to think Yoongi is very, very aware of this fact.

“Take those fuckin’ pants off,” he orders. “And hands on the wall before I put them there.”

“Can’t make me do shit—”

Fingers grip your chin before Yoongi gets right into your face, primal instinct making you go on full alert. As his tongue prods his cheek, your whole lower body quivers. “I can. And I will, if you don’t behave.” Tapping your jaw in a warning, he hums. “Now do what I fucking say.”

Holy shit, he’s not playing around. Which only heightens your desire to peaks previously unreached, and you’re shucking your bottoms off while he yanks his drawer open for condoms. Hurrying, you fling your clothes away before planting—

Yoongi smashes his whole front against your back—pinning your whole body against the cold, rough wall—before intertwining long fingers with yours. “Good girl.”

Hitching your hips back, he sticks your ass out as you slip, and you feel his cock tease your entrance. Groaning, you grip your hands into fists as he continues to rub your cunt but never enter. Denying, denying, denying. Smacking your pussy and still not letting you feel him inside.

And it’s maddening. “Please!”

“Please what,” he asks, giving your ass a spank that has you flinching into the wall.

And, without any shred of mercy, this goes on for longer than he’s ever held out. It’s so sickening that tears start flowing from your eyes, and you devolve into saying anything to get him to fuck your brains out. Between spanks on your ass, slaps on your tits, and aggravating kisses on your back, Yoongi doesn’t let you phase him for minutes.

It’s when you choke on a sob that he finally, finally squeezes inside of you, checking for your nod before wrecking you completely.

“Oh, fuck—” Your eyes shut tight as you try to keep yourself upright, hands pushing against the wall as your legs shift with every thrust.

“This ass. Fuck.” Yoongi’s pace is relentless, hands bruising your hips and your cheeks smacking into his pelvis over and over and over. “It’s a goddamn problem.”

You’re trying so hard. So, so hard to stay on the wall. But your hands are too sweaty; they're starting to slip with each attempt. “Bed,” you command. “Bed now.”

And he obliges immediately, pulling out and yanking you back. Mouth to your ear, he both checks in while making your legs jelly, “You tapping out?”

“Break my fucking back,” you rasp in return, hearing him growl in satisfaction before burying you facedown into his bed. As he plunges inside again, you grip at his sheets, driven to the brink and reveling in all the things he’s saying to you while feeling him in your stomach.

Suddenly, you feel your arms pulled back, and you yell into his mattress as he buries himself even deeper. Everything you’re screaming makes no sense, but the phenomenal sensation you feel as you go limp renders you speechless anyway.

Yoongi knows exactly what he’s doing as he pushes his thumb into your asshole, because you clench so hard around him that he chuckles darker than dark. Careening into space, you kiss the edge of euphoria before he inconveniently pulls out, launching a sling of insults from your mouth.

“What was that?”

“I said fuck you!”

“Thought so.”

Not done in the slightest, Yoongi hauls your thighs so flush against him that you have to use your fingertips for support. Just as you’re about to argue, he rams into you from a new and impossibly enticing angle and holy fuck it feels so good you want to weep.

“Put that fucking hand down,” he growls, smacking away the fingers you didn’t even know were on your mouth. “If you wanna talk shit.”

“Fuck—!”

“Uh huh. Let it out, baby girl.”

You’ve never felt this out of control. This wild. This out of body. Your head is yanked back, your back pressing into the front of his shirt before you feel him so far into your guts that you quiver.

Now at the mercy of his tongue in close range, you hear his gravelly tone in your ear, “What’s my fuckin’ name.”

“Asshole—”

A hard smack to your tits has you crumpling with a whine. “Say it.”

“I’ll say it if I wanna say it—”

Another spank to your inner thigh and you’re gone. Eyes roll as he tweaks your nipple, and your words are almost garbled when he grips your chin from behind. “This what we’re doing? Hmm?”

You laugh breathy before you taunt, “Uh huh.”

“Mm…” Despite your laugh, you shake. “I wouldn’t do that, doll.”

“Make me. Bet you can’t.”

Tensed and veins angry, Yoongi grips both your tits before snarling, “That’s enough.”

Swiftly, he shoves you down into the sheets, muscular frame pinning you as he strokes up into you just right. Again. Again. It’s all too slow and too effective and you’re trying to stay mad but all you can feel is perfection, your back arching at his thrusts and mewling at his low growls in your ear.

“You wanted this.” Another thrust. “Talking shit.” Your jaw goes slack. “Pissing me off.”

Your groan is downright erotic. Why why why? Just knowing you’re making him this mad flutters your cunt and, from the sinister chuckle shooting into your neck, Yoongi definitely felt that.

“Fuckin’ thought so.”

When he reaches to grab your breasts, the last thrust has you crying out in a flurry of pleasure.

Every single thought is Yoongi, from beginning to end in a biblical cycle of debauchery. Exertion leaves you slick, sweat coating the expanse of your skin only to press into his bed, your mess your mess your mess. At his hands. The smacks of his cock. The rolls of his hips. Are you gone? Are you here? If he’s bruised then you feel like you are, too, and you welcome the temporary pain as Yoongi’s fingers dig ever deeper into your waist fuck one’s now pinning your head down.

The moans you let out are unending, and your thighs shake when all you get in response is a laugh of condescension.

“Look at you. Can’t even stay mad.”

“Fuck you!” You’re close, you’re close, you’re close again. Release is at your fingertips, but Yoongi yanks himself out to rip it away from your outstretched fingers. “No!”

“What, doll.”

“Please!”

“Nah.”

Body sore, you’re flipped over with no mercy as something else presses against your cunt.

Fucking hell, he’s eating you out now? Shaking, you feel Yoongi’s tongue swirl around your thrumming clit before he sucks, edging you to the point of tears and heartbreak. And it proves too much as you grab at his head, yank at his hair, because he lets up when you’re close.

Every. Single. Time.

Your madness spirals into your curses, and he relishes in your despair, continuing to lick and suck and slap your thighs with patience. “What do you say?”

“Please!”

“Mm. Not loud enough.”

“Yoongi, please.”

“Oh, we’re saying names now?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, it aches. It’s starting to borderline hurt. “I’ll be good,” you barter, beg, plead with a head spinning off its own axis. “I’ll do anything.”

“Do it yourself then.”

Later, when you look back on tonight, you’ll be embarrassed and shy to hell. But right now, you’re so over any shyness that you don’t hesitate, reaching down to rub at your clit and moaning when it’s so sensitive.

And Yoongi gets a front row seat.

His groan is gutteral. And it doesn’t take you long to quicken your pace, bucking your hips and whining to the ceiling. You’re so so so close it’s right there—

Your hand is smacked away. And after you try to wrestle out of his grip, you are a flat out, blubbering mess. “Yoongi… Please…”

“Nah.”

This is torture. And you’re frightened at how much you’re enjoying it. “I’m so close.”

“You’ll come when I say you can.”

“Please! …Please..”

“You done being a brat?”

“No! Fuck. Yes!” If you weren’t so far gone, you may have deciphered a tiny smile of amusement. But it won’t be for months later until you’ll realize that you were wrong.

Because the menacing flash of teeth you see is much too wide to be anything other than pride. “The fuck did I say? Use your words.”

You know you’re still upset. You know Yoongi is still upset. But for some reason, you feel closer to him than you have in awhile, and you wonder if lust and madness are two sides of the same coin. “Let me come. Please.”

Yoongi finally obliges with something he hadn’t pleasured you with yet. And your vision blanks as you yelp at the sensation, his slick fingers pistoning into your folds so fast you’re arching so taut. From between your quivering legs, you hear one final command,

“Then fucking come.”

And you burst, so hard you almost feel like something threatens to spew from your cunt. But all you can do is shake and thrash under his grip, so erratic that you feel like Yoongi’s starting to pin you down. Gone, gone, gone, you’re sure the veins of your neck threaten to break through your sweaty skin.

Then you feel his cock thrust inside of you, and you whip your head forward only to get your airway cut off. “Again,” he calmly repeats, flinging you back to the last time this happened.

Only this time, there’s even less room for you to make any other choice.

“I said again.”

Your body cannot fathom disobedience, pulsing and milking his perfect fit. Over, and over, and over. You hear rumbling from a dragon above, feel breaths of steam whooshing as it watches you come undone.

“Yoongi—”

A light slap to your cheek is your only warning before your chin is tugged, lips smushing into yours to swallow your straining sobs. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your body is still thrumming, inundating around his cock until your emotions spill from your core. Toes. Fingers. Everything is straining and locking in place.

“So fucking hot.” He rips your soul right out. “Shit.”

You fly through time and space, gathering emotions and feelings and spiraling spiraling spiraling. Crying. You’re crying. Full on crying you’re so overwhelmed with everything truly you were so mean to him you upset him holy fuck you should’ve left when he told you to—

“Baby.”

But you cannot stop crying, choke choke gasping on sobs.

“Babe.”

“I—I—”

Your name stabs you with a crisp shot, coupled with a firm grip on your chin, snapping you back to lucid. And Yoongi’s eyes are frantically searching your own. “Look at me.”

You do. Do you? You do. And his eyes…

They’re not angry at all. It’s pure concern. Steadfast concentration. And something reflecting your soul. “Breathe.”

“Oh, shit,” you whisper, coughing and reaching for oxygen you didn’t know you were denying. Air rushes back into your lungs as you inhale.

“There you go. Keep going.”

You do, gulping down air and hiccuping a breath or two. Your cheek is being caressed, you think. And with another pass, you know it is.

“Relax for me.” And you hiccup a sob. “Breathe, babe.”

You do, you do, you do. Yoongi kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and you breathe more and more through it all. “You with me?”

“Always,” you answer, filter off because you are hanging by a thread and he’s holding the top. “Please don’t kick me out ever,” you hiccup. “Please, baby, I’ll do anything for you but I—could—never handle that—”

You’re tenderly hushed before lips slide over yours, attempting to swallow your thoughts and your sobs and your oncoming tears. As you flood his bed with apologies, Yoongi keeps wiping them all.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Babe.”

“You told me so many times—”

“Breathe, angel.”

You blink at the change in name, and it makes you focus just a bit stronger. Floating down from the precipice.

“I wasn’t kicking you out,” he slowly explains, kissing sweat from your forehead. His words feel like a calm, rock-filled river over your eyes. “I felt like an idiot and hated you seeing me like this.”

“Like what?”

“Just… Like this.”

“You’re perfect like this,” you hitch out, not caring about what flows out of your mouth. “So perfect. Always to me. I just wanted to help you, baby, I’m so sorry—”

He hugs you so tight more tears squeeze out.

And so do more confessions, “I… I care about you. I think a little too much. If I lost you, I wouldn’t—be able—”

“I’m here.”

“So please don’t push me away.”

“I won’t.”

“I know you don’t make promises but—”

“I promise.” Without an ounce of doubt, Yoongi places a firm, lingering kiss on your temple. “Promise. Fuck.” As he holds you tight, you feel him shake before you hear the tiniest sniff at your ear.

Oh. He doesn’t need to be like this, too. You try to move your hand up between your bodies to comfort him, but your whole limb feels gelatinous. So you simply whisper, “It’s okay, baby.”

You can’t tell how long you lie like this, with his beautiful weight on yours. But time is irrelevant when your mind is unwinding from hours of whirring, starting to finally accept the fact that everyone is okay and you don’t have to be angry anymore.

“Come on,” Yoongi rasps, voice cracked and airy. “Let’s go.”

“Hmm?”

“Shower.”

“Oh. Okay.”

You’re so thrown and dizzy from what just happened that even getting to the bathroom is a blur. What you kinda feel is Yoongi holding you upright when your legs buckle, but you don’t remember when he leaves your side to turn the water on.

As he flips on the light, your eyes squeeze until they adjust, and you watch as he tests the water while fully clothed. Air conditioning starts to give you a chill, but the shower warms up just in time because he reaches out to guide you inside.

Wait. Is he not joining you? Bleary, you grab at his shirt when he steps away, eyes pleading. “Are you coming in, too?”

Yoongi stops before he gives a shake of his head. “I’ll take mine when you’re done,” he says through a slight smile. “We’ll take care of you first.”

That doesn’t make sense. Even in your depleting haze, you know something doesn’t add up. “You can join me now. I don’t mind.” When you try to lift his shirt, Yoongi visibly flinches when you brush over his ribs.

And all the murk around your head vanishes in a snap.

He kept his shirt on that whole time. Not once did your positions allow you to see his upper body fully. And now he’s not gonna get in the shower or take his shirt off?

Your voice lowers two octaves when you reach full clarity. “Let me see.”

Unblinking, Yoongi tries to back away, “Don’t worry—”

“Let me see it, baby,” you command, breath cut until he finally allows you to lift his shirt up holy fuck those injuries look so painful tears prick your eyes. “Oh, my god, Yoongi—”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re hurt.” You feel these wounds deep in your ribs, and you tell him to get your kit what the hell he fucked you while feeling those?

Attempting to alleviate your stress, Yoongi decides to strip fully and step into the shower, ignoring your pleas to grab your med kit and promising you can take care of him when you’re done washing up.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, doll.”

“Are you sure?”

“Promise.”

And when his arms wrap around you, this is when you finally let go. Huge, chest-wracking sobs echo around tile, and Yoongi stays quiet through your cathartic release.

There’s another reason you were so upset. And it has nothing to do with any of them, but with yourself. The main reason you’ve been so riled up and frustrated is because… This is technically your fault, too.

But, unsurprisingly, he won’t let you take any blame whatsoever.

“You got hurt cus I said to play.”

“Nope.”

“I wore the outfit that day.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“And lost my friends at the club.”

“No.”

Sniffling in quick succession, you think about one other option. Some form of closure that can double as compromise. Voice soft, you suggest the last resort you have,

“How about we share it.”

Yoongi blinks twice before he clarifies, “You wanna share the blame?” When you nod, he huffs through the tiniest smile of confusion. “Mm. Then it’s our fault.”

“Okay.”

After shaking his head, he closes his eyes, molding his forehead with yours. “What are you doing to me.”

A sniffle. “Wrecking your water bill.”

His laughs join yours as you barely get your sentence out before giggling, and to feel him so close and present and here makes your worries slink down the drain.

Hands trace down your arms, walking along falling rivers before creating ponds with your fingers intertwined. “Gonna clear me out someday.”

“Duh.”

He’s himself again.

And after a whole night of chaos, you feel like yourself again, too.

That’s all you both need to feel peace.

You keep that tranquility carrying you through his room, peeking into his closet to grab the biggest shirt and sweats you can find before drying your head.

But no matter how much water you can dry, your body will keep being washed in relief. And it’s the calmest feeling, watching as Yoongi does the simplest things near his bed.

Your lips curve when he pulls up his pants; your heart beats when he grabs a tee. It’s in this moment that you admit that these outfits of his are your favorites, and you gravitate to him as he slips cotton over his damp head.

“Come on,” you softly offer as you turn. “I’ll make food and get you some ice.”

Again, Yoongi just stares with a faint smile. But his eyes are alive again, so you’re more than fine if he just follows your lead without a word.

In the kitchen, you pause amongst the appliances, the cabinets watching as you utilize your phone to find a good recipe. “What shall we eat… Stew? Or, wait—”

Looking up, you eye him in thought before choosing to focus on something else. “Actually, let’s figure you out first.”

Opening yet another tab to add to your hundreds, you type away before selecting a good starting point. “Okay, let’s see. You’re breathing fine, so no bruised ribs. Umm…”

Scroll, scroll.

“It looks really bad there, though. You sure you can move right?”

Despite asking, you go right back to your phone before Yoongi can even respond. Scrolling and clicking and reading again.

Scroll, scroll.

“Okay, so no bruised ribs, and according to this you don’t have any broken bones. And nothing fractured, either, thank god—”

“I love you.”

Time bursts.

Your chest glows.

Everything starts to beat, beat, beat in slow motion.

And you don’t even feel like you’re in the room anymore. “…What?”

You need to hear it again. You need to need to need to, because if you heard him wrong, you will check yourself and bolt right out the door.

His eyes.

Despite the battlefield on his skin, they are dripping, and sparkling, and full. The whole world suspends as he stares right into your soul, caressing it with his wounded hands and cradling it in his bruised arms.

No matter how hard the moon will try—for years, and years, and years more—it will never outshine this single, shaken, solidified admittance.

“I love you, doll.”

You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to fucking do.

Why is Yoongi saying this now? Why is he choosing now of all times to make you the happiest person in the universe?

No.

Happiness isn’t even close to what you feel and you’re pretty sure you’re crying but nothing makes sense and your vision plunges under sunlit waters.

“And you don’t have to say anything. I know I don’t deserve to.”

What?

“I can’t be everything you want. Or need. Or whatever the fuck I’m trying to say. But I just needed you to know because I can’t fucking fight this shit anymore—”

You lunge forward before he offers his last syllable, careful to avoid his wounds and not mush his face because he would do the same for you.

And it’s all too much tonight. The lingering fear, the dying anger, the floods of relief, the joy. You can’t stop your sobs from coming out in bursts, your whole body wracking with overwhelming emotion as he grits into your skin,

“Goddamn it, I—”

“Yoongi—”

“—so fucking much.”

Yoongi loves you. He’s here. He loves you, loves you, loves you and the beats of your heart pulse orange and blue, blue, blue.

Nothing will ever compare to this moment. Nothing. You will bottle this one up in a jar to place next to all the others you have stored, and when you are lonely, or hurt, or even when you’re doing just fine, you will uncork it to surround yourself with this memory and know that everything will be okay.

He loves you.

Fuck, he loves you?

You choke out his name with a sob, and he squeezes you even harder. When you can’t reply with anything else, he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, his tears taking root and blossoming into beautiful vibrant fruit all along your rib cage.

He loves you.

Why can’t you seem to say it back? What the fuck is wrong with your tongue?

Maybe it’s because saying it doesn’t feel like enough. Like it’s laughable that there are words for this feeling because they don’t nearly represent what you harbor in your very being for this man.

There’s no way any words are enough. Not for him. Nor for you. Because right now, Yoongi needs something more. And you’re going to give him more than everything.

“Yoongi, I—”

He captures your lips in his, and you let him push you against his counter and consume you everywhere he wants to. Between his claims, your sobs have room to breathe. Which makes for a horrible showing of your attempting to say what you want to. “I… I can’t… Yoongi—”

Fingers press into the back of your head, a forehead smushing into yours and shutting you up completely. “I’m sorry,” he says, words rolling down the tracks your tears have walked. “I won’t ever be able to say that enough.”

“Baby,” you hiccup, resting a hand over one of his. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.” You squeeze his hand, feeling the lovely digs of his knuckles in your palm. His scent wafts around you like an embrace, and you know there’s nothing quite like it. At all. “You’re okay, so I’m okay.”

After he plants a warm kiss on your temple, you feel his hands ball into fists at your ears. “I just—fuck.”

There’s no telling what he’s thinking about in that brain of his. But you need him to know that there’s nothing more for him to be sorry for. All you care about is that he’s present, responding, and himself.

“Babe,” you whisper, still not believing those three words coming out of his mouth. “I’m here.”

“I know.” He sighs, smushing into your lips and holding you so tenderly, yet so tight. As he laps at your tongue, you’re more than sure he can taste your rainfall.

None of this is real. Because you can’t believe it at all. Even as Yoongi continues his journey across your neck, your shoulders, your jaw, your face, you still can’t piece together that this is truly happening.

When you feel him hard on your pelvis, you remember that he didn’t get the same release you got earlier. But you’re not gonna be the one to suggest going again, all of this will be what he decides.

And what Yoongi decides is to pull you closer, breathing you in while you do the same. His kisses are never ending, and your hands roam languidly along his shoulders, his hair, stretching across the expanse of his back. One that has held the weight of the world and then some.

His name leaves your mouth in a sigh, your back arching as softly as the kisses being planted along your breasts.

“If you only knew,” he whispers, laughing to himself as he wraps an arm around your side.

“Knew what?”

“Nothing, babe.” You gasp into his next rough press to your lips. “You’re so—fuck.”

You said you’d let him lead. But as Yoongi starts to walk you into his bedroom again, you think about his injuries and feel more concerned after knowing they’re there. So you quietly stop him as you reach his bed, “Are you sure?”

“I’ll be alright, doll,” he whispers, lowering you down and smiling so tranquilly your heart lurches. “As much as I think you enjoyed the first time, this time will be better.”

Giggling, you fight the heat from searing your cheeks as you smile. “You enjoyed it more than I did, I think.”

“I don’t think so.” Yoongi smirks, getting up. “Lemme get a cond—”

“It’s okay,” you halt him with a hand, and he freezes.

Full stop. No movement. Not even a breath. “...What?”

“We don’t…” You swallow, stomach fluttering at his expression. “We don’t have to this time.”

Because Yoongi’s eyes have not left your face. “You sure?”

Then something causes you to smile. Knowing that if there’s anyone you want to do this with, it’s this man right here and now. There’s genuinely no one else in the world with whom you would wanna share this experience, and the fact that he’s still asking makes you emotional.

Cradling his face with the most tender touch you can imagine, you confirm, “Just for a little bit.” And you add something you think he needs to keep hearing. “I trust you.”

Gulping down any extra emotions spilling from your heart’s chalice, your words come out a little wobbled. “And I want to, if you want it, too.”

“I want what you want, doll.”

“Then it’s okay.”

Clothes on or off, you still feel so shy underneath him.

But this time, you vow to shove those feelings of unworthiness to the side. Because you are fully invested in this moment above all others. And Yoongi deserves more than you can give.

When he slowly tugs his sweats from your legs, you’re already choking back tears. As he climbs on top, you await the connection you never in your dreams would’ve imagined.

And when Yoongi stares at you one more time, you know exactly what he’s asking.

“Yes, my love,” you wisp into his skin, craning up to kiss him and swallowing his last slice of doubt. Knowing you’ll say it again and again and again.

His brows pinch as he kisses you—slow, purposeful, understanding. Then he positions himself, and you can physically feel his hand brush your cunt as he does so. If he ever asks if you felt him shake, you will deny it. But only for a year or two.

As soon as you feel him—only him, solely him—you swell with a current of emotion. And it pulls you all the way under when he’s fully sheathed inside.

“Holy fucking shit.”

“Yoongi—”

“Fuck.”

Simply having him inside, with no barriers or obstacles in between? You’re already close. There’s no early explanation, but you already feel overwhelmed enough to come.

No no no. You want this to last forever, so you wait for Yoongi to gather himself because he appears to be fighting, too.

Chuckling, you ask, “You good, baby?”

And your lover snaps his gaze to your face, bangs sweeping across your cheeks and eyes unblinking. “Yeah, just...” He stares at your inquisitive expression before whooshing out a harsh breath. “Just this is about to make me bust.”

You burst into laughter before admitting you were just thinking the same thing, and his slow grin makes you want to cry. “We’re not good at this.”

“No. You’re too good at this. I can’t even move.”

“Yes, you can,” you whine. “You wreck my shit all the time.”

Feeling a twitch more prominent than ever, you giggle as Yoongi puffs out pained amusement. “Doll, if you keep talking like that, I’m pulling out.”

“Okay, okay,” you surrender, loving how out of sorts he seems. He’s fighting for his life and you’re enjoying the hell out of it.

“You’re a little too perfect right now.”

Maybe one day you will agree with him. But that day is far from reach, your head shaking in quiet disagreement.

“You are.”

“Nowhere close,” you whisper.

His nose brushes against yours. “Say that again and see what happens.”

“Is that what you tell all the others fuck!”

His shove up your cunt makes you see stars. “What did I fuckin’ say?”

“What—”

Another launch has you careening through space, lip bitten and suppressing a hearty whine. “You think there’s someone else?” Again. “Hmm?”

Again.

You’re so dazed and mind-fucked to pieces that your speech is barely audible. But your chin is grabbed as you’re snapped straight, and your eyes try their hardest to focus on slitted ones above. “You’re gonna regret saying that.”

You just laugh, whine pinging sharp into the ceiling as he shoves forward so hard your whole body shifts upward. “Oh, yeah?”

Yoongi doesn’t respond with words, thrusting up again and sending you twisting and winding towards the edge unbelievably fast. “Uh huh.”

“Make me then,” you gasp out. “Make me really sorry.”

The sound Yoongi makes comes from deep within his stomach, the rumbling hum shooting right into your veins like liquid fire.

And the full-on attack he bursts into renders you completely speechless. Everything Yoongi does pulls you deliciously in all directions—his thrusts, his chain hitting his chest, his grip on your wrists, the way he snags your chin. Everything.

“Taking me so well like this.”

“I—”

“So fucking tight.”

Fuck fuck fuck it’s habitual for you at this point, and you unhinge your jaw a split second before he smacks the side of your face. Desire lowers your lids halfway as you feel empowered, and you don’t even recognize your voice as you order him on the spot. “Do it again.”

Yoongi doesn’t stop his pace as he keeps his eyes on you.

“Do it again,” you growl, fully limp and a groaning mess when he does exactly what you want.

Fuck, the pain feels good. So good that you reach up and choke him out. But the back of your head is grabbed before you feel hungry lips smash into yours. You feel your wrists pinned again by one large palm, air chilling for a moment before a hot mouth captures one of your nipples. “Oh, fuck, Yoongi!”

“Uh uh.”

“Please—please—”

You’re still tensing as he devours your chest below his shirt, strokes now slower but just as powerful.

Your arms still haven’t been freed, but there’s something about being under his control that has you loving this position. Without question. Maybe it’s the fact that you can see him now, losing himself just as he saw you washes in the throes of passion.

And he licks, sucks, lolls his tongue all over your tits, whispered praises sinking through your bosom as he keeps a grip on your wrists.

“Baby,” you gasp. “I’m close, I’m—”

“Shit.” Air whooshes over you before you feel your arms freed and him yank himself out, and you freeze as he unloads right on your stomach, a sharp cocktail of pride and shock in your gut.

Holy fuck, Yoongi was that close? Did he hold out as long as he could? Shit, he’s breathing so hard his jewelry shakes as it dangles.

You’re still so surprised that your arms are still locked into bends, and he glances up at you from his kneeled state. “Fuck,” he laughs, and is that… Is Yoongi shy? “Thought I could hold out.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you assure through your own tiny chuckle. “Oh my god, I promise.”

He leans down to plant a heart fluttering kiss on your lips, but you hate how he looks pained on the way down.

Those hits he took… Now you kinda understand his perspective. Because now you want to avenge him in five hundred thousand ways—almost half as many ways as you want to show him how you feel.

“Stay there, beautiful,” Yoongi orders as he moves to get off the bed, wincing in passes. “I’m not done with you.”

Damn. He looks even more exhausted than before. “Baby, are you sure?”

But Yoongi walks right to his bathroom to retrieve a towel, and your eyes may as well transform into hearts when you watch him come back to you. So handsome, even now. Even when he’s simply holding a washcloth, hair completely mussed, soul sparkling and face bruised.

As he sits to clean your face before moving to your stomach, you can only observe his eyes. So experienced. Calm. At peace. When they drift to yours, it’s instinct that has you shying away. “What, love.”

Another reason to crumble inside. “I just… nothing,” you whisper.

And Yoongi finishes with the cloth before tossing it somewhere. “Tell me,” he says, lying down on the ribs with more damage. “I wanna know.”

“Come on this side,” you tell him, and he obliges without a word. “It’s a secret.”

“A secret?”

“Mmhmm.”

Yoongi settles before lifting your chin, rubbing an affectionate thumb over any tears still persevering on your cheeks. “I can keep those, you know.”

Smiling, you fold way too easily. “Okay, I’ll tell.”

When he leans in, your nervousness and excitement to tell him almost spoils your ability to do so. Like someone gifting a present while wanting to say what it is before it’s even opened.

“I love you, too,” you whisper, tears sprinting to your ducts as Yoongi freezes. When he looks at you, you can’t help but choke on a sob seeing his eyes get as red as the marks on his cheek. “And you deserve more than I could ever give.”

His eyes hold the heavens and the seas.

You’re right. Just saying it isn’t fucking enough.

You’re already liplocked again before you can think, saltwater on your face and you don’t even know whose eyes it came from.

Determined, Yoongi starts kissing a trail from your lips to your jaw, and you start to cry as he makes his own journey down the expanse of you.

All of you.

Is this what it feels like? Is all of this actually, genuinely real?

You hope so, because you feel devotion in each press of his lips, and every touch will be remembered in its own right. Its own pocket of time.

Every single stop.

It almost feels divine when his mouth reaches your folds, lapping at your essence and swirling around your clit. When you say his name, Yoongi says nothing, instead palming your thighs and eating you out like he has all the time in the world.

Swelling, you already feel close.

But the way he gets you to fantasia is so natural that you slide into your quivers seemlessly. The transition into your heaven flows like a stream, and your waves engulf his tongue and coat his mouth without trouble.

This is what it feels like. What it feels like with Yoongi.

And you wanna keep making love until only sleep can take you from him.

Your hands jut into his hair, gasping as he keeps his pace, and no matter how you squirm he is dead set on holding you down until holy fuck you’re coming again.

How? What’s happening to you? This constant stream of release is shocking you to the point of crying out, and Yoongi groans into your orgasm and prolongs it with the whole press of his tongue.

“Holy fuck, baby—!” Another wave overcomes the next, and you outright quake in his hands, eyes rolling and vision blinking white. Muscles lock as you can’t keep up with the pleasure, and you’re mercilessly let go only for lips to descend on yours.

Your tears spill into your ears as you kiss him back, wrapping tired arms over his shoulders and raking in deep.

“Fuck.” And you feel his cock lodge against your entrance, and you’re amazed how hard he is again.

Does he want what you want? Is he ready again?

As Yoongi quietly gets up to get a condom, you’re amazed that he wants to keep going after everything that’s transpired. But, if he feels like you do, he’s ready to keep going until the sun comes up three whole times.

When he sits next to you, your better half appears shy as he bites the wrapper. “Don’t take this the wrong way.”

“Oh, I already know.”

“K. But god, I fuckin’ want to.”

You bite your lip to hold back your smile, remembering what he said a long time ago and bringing it back full circle for the next thing you both wanna try. “One day.”

Yoongi only grins.

And for the next hour, your lover, your secret, your home gives you everything he has, and you come for him more times than you ever have in your life.

Every time, he drags your pleasure out, expertly tearing you down with his movements and building your confidence up with his words. He tells you you’re perfect, and he disagrees when you disagree. When you find tears on your face, he kisses those away, too. When you feel along his silver, he simply watches you in silence.

No sadness, doubt, nor anger to be found.

After you physically can’t do any more, Yoongi lies at your side, silent as you play with his hair. You do your best to stay still, not wanting to accidentally push into any of his injuries that you’re gonna beg him to get checked in the morning.

Once he’s healed? That’s when you’ll never let go. Because you want to crush him into you completely. Mold into him, just so he can feel the brevity of your highest affection.

“I’m sorry for yelling,” you finally whisper. “But I really was so mad at you. All of you.”

“I know.”

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

Yoongi stares, seeming to withhold something from you before he palms your cheek. “They were gonna follow us home if we didn’t, babe,” he reveals, snapping your heart back in two. “We all knew that.”

“Oh, fuck.” Everything hits you at once: why they stayed, why you and Taehyung had to leave. Why Tae didn’t bring you straight back to the house. And the burns at your eyes match the searing in your gut. “I didn’t… I didn’t think about that.”

When you start to cry, Yoongi sits up and hangs his head between his sweats. “You don’t need to think about shit like that,” he murmurs, sounding defeated as ever. “But we talked after you told us off. We won’t hide that from you anymore.”

Sniffling, you whisper out a thank you. But you don’t want Yoongi to feel like he has to distance himself, so you untangle him—slowly, gently–-before bringing him into your chest.

After dealing with all that and the tempest in his living room, this man still let you in. From the looks of things, there’s a lot that he had been fighting, and you’re more than appreciative that he opened his door. Not knowing how to put these feelings into words, you say the first things that come to mind. And for some reason, they feel heavier on the way out,

“Thank you for letting me in. It was raining really hard.”

Yoongi stiffens hard before holding you closer.

“Babe?”

No response. Just another batch of weighted quiet.

Worried, you tilt your head. “Hey. Look at me.”

If he stays right where he is, you’ll have to respect that decision. But he ends up pushing himself up, and as soon as you see moonlight catch on a falling tear, all your instincts reach for him, “Oh, fuck, come here.”

You surround him with everything you have, wanting every single bit of warmth birthed from his love to fill his space instead of yours. Whatever he needs, you will give. “It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, holding him so close but not nearly close enough.

Never close enough.

His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you will let him live there whenever he needs to. “I’m not mad anymore, okay?” God, you hate how he’s still so silent. You get it, but you hate whatever made him default to this state. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

After light rain fills the room, your soul breaks at a sniffle, and you crush your love even tighter.

“This isn’t about that, doll,” Yoongi finally whispers, burying wet eyes further into your shoulder. “It’s just…”

It’s what? What’s he thinking about? Hopefully it’s not anything—

“It’s so fucking better when you’re here.”

When you choke out a sob, his body locks, words pouring from nowhere and everywhere. “I sleep better. Eat better. Fuck, I even feel better even if nothing else changes.”

“Yoongi…”

“It’s true.” Sighing, he sniffles again before letting his weight drop onto you in resignation. Or relief. “I mean that.”

“Then… Those three months…”

“One day, I’ll tell you everything,” he offers, making you wonder what the hell he’s been through in the past. And if it has something to do with that guitar he smashed to pieces. “But from now on, you can be here whatever you want.”

Many things have shifted tonight. As if an earthquake had upturned everything between the both of you, only peace has settled in its wake. A peace you had never felt before. As you brush fingers through his hair, you joke, “So I can come to those parties you host, too?”

“Those weren’t my idea, by the way. Jimin made me.” Kissing your shoulder, Yoongi continues to admit, “He was worried. And hoping you would show.”

Oh. That’s news to you.

“I knew you wouldn’t. But.” He exhales before nestling in further. “I did hope to see you, too.”

“It’s okay.” You rub the back of his neck, your fingers feeling nothing but warmth and the softness of his clothes. “It would’ve been too obvious.”

“What would’ve.”

“That I wanted you all to myself.”

“You already have that.”

When you stiffen, your words are tiny. “You know what I mean.”

Yoongi laughs soft, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it up for a kiss as you blurt, “My brother was the one that invited me. To come to those, I mean.”

The way he blinks is comical. “Huh.”

“I know.” It’s your turn to bring his hand close, kissing along his knuckles before you stare out the window behind him. “It makes me wonder if he knows.”

“What if he does?”

You snap your eyes right to his. “Does he?”

Yoongi watches your lips linger on his fingers before he tells the truth, “No.”

“Okay. But you’re sure I can stay?”

“Who do you think you bought those groceries for?”

Oh. Wait. “What?”

Grinning so sly, Yoongi reveals the plan he had all along, “I get you for a week, right?”

Oh. Holy shit. You cannot quite possibly deal with what this man is saying. That whole time you were shopping for his list… No wonder he was already done with dinner when you got there oh you’re gonna get him back for that.

Light bursts from your center as you grit out through a grin, “You sneaky little—” Pulling his tilted mouth in for another kiss, your heart pulses little pink stars as he leans in with a laugh, and you meet lips again and again until he slowly, reluctantly stops.

“One day,” he murmurs out of nowhere, and you flick your eyes to his. “I’ll be better.”

Of course he will. You have no doubts. But, just like he always does for you, you’re gonna start offering the same reassurance out loud, even if he knows it’s there.

And you can’t contain your little laughs at your own joke, despite him just staring into your face right after you crack it, “Don’t make it just one day, silly.”

Even if you’re very serious, it’s in your nature to lighten things up. Especially after hearing such wonderful news for what’s coming. Clutching a little bit of his shirt, you whisper with complete devotion,

“We’ll make it as many as we can.”

You hate how you feel him freeze, knowing what that means, what plaguing little thoughts are embedded in that tiny shift.

Yoongi’s still hesitant to accept.

Because you are, too. In many ways. But this man has been picking you up and making you stronger day after day—in both his presence and absence—that you can’t help but fight to do the same.

Does he ever think about you? Does he know that you’ll always be with him? No matter how close or far apart you are? You hope so. Because it’s so true that your heart is searing that promise into your soul, branding it as a reminder to reciprocate all this genuine love you’ve never been given before.

He loves you?

You still can’t accept that as fact.

…Maybe one day.

You chuckle to yourself, deciding to keep talking because Yoongi is still so very quiet. “At least. Until the day I get to meet my cat,” you huff in triumph. “Then I’m running away with her.”

It’s a perfect strike of a match. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You pretend to pout. “But I’m starting to think she ran away already and you won’t fess up.”

Yoongi laughs so suddenly you flinch. After a playful scoff, he tries to make you feel better, “She’s still here!”

“Lies.”

“How much are you betting, doll.”

“How much are you willing to lose, babe.”

“This much,” he finally says, pinching your sides and hissing laughter when you scream. “Maybe I’ll make you leave after all if you’re gonna be a problem.”

“You did threaten to kick me out before.”

“Huh? When?”

“That day I showed up,” you remind him through a chuckle. Thrown back to that first night, you start to see all the parallels between then and now. And how vastly different things have become. “Said you were gonna kick me out for hustling you.”

The glorious laughter from the depths of his belly makes you grin, and you cringe when his brows pinch in both laughter and pain. “I should’ve!”

He needs to get those hits healed. “You really should’ve.”

“Played me from the very start. You happy with yourself?” When you nod, Yoongi shakes his head. “Course you are.”

“You love it.”

“I do.” Your eyes meet, which proves dangerous for you because he bites his smirk before pulling you in for a kiss. “Thought I was gonna say it, huh.”

“No!” You lie. Because no, you certainly were not! “…Maybe.”

“Guess what.”

Suddenly paranoid, you give him a look, already expecting to be tricked again.

But Yoongi captures your lips without warning, curling your toes into sheets you’re now achingly familiar with. After a few passes, he shifts above, planting a hand at your side and letting his chain slide against your chest as he slots a leg in between yours.

Yet again, you think about that first night, that first time. The first of apparently, surprisingly, wonderfully unexpectedly many.

Who would’ve thought rain and a broken ego would bloom into something good? Who would’ve believed a person so close to your roots would be your home?

As he lets up with one last slow stroke of his tongue, you whisper, “What were you gonna say?”

At this, Yoongi spreads closed lips, taking his time planting a peck on your nose. “I just fucking love you, doll.”

Oh. He’s a menace and the most annoying tease on the planet.

When you can’t do anything but flee into his chest, Yoongi immediately laughs, forcing you back out of your little shell. “You can’t hide now, babe.”

“I can!”

Leaned forward in your struggle, you give him no choice but to swoop his head into your neck. Which backfires on you immensely because he decides it’s the perfect time to rasp deep against your ear, “I love fucking you, too.”

His name flies out of your mouth in disbelief and embarrassment, and his heightened amusement puffs into the burning column below your chin.

This is the moment something comes over you. Slams into you. Washes you in present nostalgia like lingering footsteps on a balcony.

And it hurts. It really, really hurts.

Instead of laughing along, you come down from your high, squeezing him like the pillow that couldn’t replicate his warmth for months. “I miss you.”

After a second, Yoongi questions, “How? I’m right here.”

You know that. You do. But with every hello there’s a goodbye, and you don’t want that this time. Especially now that your heart knows that his beats the same.

Breathy and shaken, you rest your head in his chest, hoping he doesn’t hear but does at the same time, “I still miss you.”

Strong fingers weakly press into your sides, and while you can’t see him, you know for a fact that his smile is gone. Because he also knows goodbye is coming again, and you can’t stay here forever as long as this is all a secret.

You feel a sigh wisp over your head before words that make no fucking sense follow it out, “I can’t do shit like this anymore.”

…What?

No. No no no he can’t be done just like that you both just confessed everything you need to fight say something anything anything—

“I wanna do this the right way.”

Oh.

Yoongi’s chest… It’s shaking.

Pushing yourself up, you search his eyes for answers. “What are you saying?”

When he looks at you, there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it has been there all along, and he only needed a spark to set it ablaze. “I’m saying I’ll tell him, doll. Just me.”

Oh. Oh, shit. Didn’t he say not yet? Didn’t he say he needs more time? He said he’d figure it out what is with the sudden…

Your tears are automatic as Yoongi roams his gaze from one eye to the other, and he’s swallowing before taking a step. A step you didn’t think he’d make. One you didn’t have the courage to take yourself.

When he utters the words, your soul lets rain fall just as the storm resides.

And right as moonlight shines through his blinds.

“I’ll tell him everything.”

tbc. :)

so... how did it go! | join the server!

a/n: so. here we are, over two years and 250k+ words later. thank you for sticking with me if you're still here, and thank you for being the most amazing readers a writer could ever, ever ask for. if you can interact or let me know what you enjoyed/like, i would be eternally grateful. these two parts took all of me, and i'm gonna take a break for a little bit before starting on the next part. a/n 2: thank you for also being here despite the highs and lows! things have really weighed on me for awhile, which prevented me from working on this part forreal. but my mental feels a lot lighter now, and i am ready to keep running with y'all. so thank you for your support and encouragement, no matter how you show it! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

#AHHH it's finally here!#bts fic #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts fanfic #ryenwrites #*ryenfictalk #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi x you #yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi x reader #3tan12 #*latest

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wildwestdean · 7 months

Text

sweet and sour

summary: when you get back home after drinking a little too much, a sweeter side of ben slips out to take care of you. though you quickly learn that with him, you can't have any sweet without a little sour

pairing: soldier boy x female reader

word count: 3.2k+

warnings: some (mainly) ooc ben, swearing, depictions of alcohol consumption, drunk reader, angst, mentions of drug use, allusions to past sexual behaviours, fluff, hurt/comfort, nicknames/pet names

a/n: okay so i haven't actually made it to soldier boy's appearance in the boys yet, but i had a burning desire to write for him anyway. so yeah just don't judge pls lol

“What the fuck are you doing?” boomed a voice from behind you.

You jumped slightly at the sudden noise, but turned with a grin upon recognizing whose voice it was.

“Ben!” you giggled, meeting his confused gaze with bright eyes as you slightly swayed on your feet. “What’re you doing?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, trying to fight off the smirk forming on his lips as he ignored your question. “Looks like you had a good time out, huh, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t help the heat that rose to your cheeks at the term of endearment, or the string of giggles that left your lips. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to, but it never failed to make you giddy - especially now. “I did!” you announced, before a frown suddenly took over your face as you remembered why you were in the kitchen “But now I want another drink, and I can’t find anythin’.”

Ben just stared at you for a moment, taking in your rosey cheeks and glossy eyes; but most importantly, the frown that currently adorned your adorable face. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but he suddenly wanted nothing more than for that frown to disappear.

“Alright,” he sighed, heading over to you. “What do you want?”

You watched as he approached, taking in his more casual appearance of a t-shirt and sweats - and, you noticed with a shy grin, a pair of old man slippers. He came to a stop just before you, and you paused as you stared up at his stoic face while he towered over you. You didn’t even hear his question, too distracted by his overwhelming everything to even realize he asked something.

He softly called your name to rouse you from your stupor, repeating it a little more gruffly when it didn’t work the first time. “What?” you asked, blinking up at his annoyed yet smirking face.

“I asked you what you wanted,” he murmured.

“Oh,” you said, your face scrunching together as you thought about it for a few moments. “I dunno,” you determined with a shrug.

“And you expect me to find something for you?” he asked curtly, his brows rising in disbelief.

Your brow unfurrowed as you grinned up at him. “Yes, please!” you declared eagerly, oblivious to the fact that he did not want to cater to you.

He clenched his jaw, extremely irritated with his urge to smile at the sight of your cheesy grin. “Fucking-” he started, before he cut himself off with a long sigh, rolling his eyes. “Alright, fine. Just go sit down or something.”

“Why?” you asked sadly, the frown taking over your face again.

“Why?�� he echoed incredulously. “When I came in, you were trying to find a drink while just staring at the fucking glassware for over a minute. That’s why.”

“Were you watchin’ me?” you asked smugly, smirking up at him. “Besides, that doesn’t mean I can’t help find a drink!” you argued, completely missing his point.

His blank expression faltered for a second, a flash of colour fleeting across his face so quick it may as well have never been there. Then he simply barked a laugh, which only deepened your frown. “I bet you wish I was, huh? And you know, that's actually exactly what it means, dollface,” he chuckled darkly, tracing his knuckles along your cheek before suddenly grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you up onto the counter. “So sit this one out,” he said, ignoring your shriek of shock and protest.

“Fine,” you grumbled, completely bewildered by the ease in which he manoeuvred you; as if it cost him zero effort. Which, of course, you knew to be true.

“Good,” he said, smiling in satisfaction before ghosting a kiss against your forehead. “Now don’t fuckin’ fall off,” he warned as he walked over to the coffee machine.

You watched him in confusion, your swirling brain trying to figure out why he was suddenly so much more affectionate with you. You were used to him teasing you, or returning your flirtations and banter, though this felt like more than that. Maybe he was just being extra nice since you were drunk. Or maybe you only thought he was being extra nice because, well, you were drunk.

“Okay, knock it off,” he demanded, glancing over at you. “Why are you so frowny? I thought you liked your stupid girls’ night thing,” he added, leaning against the island with his arms crossed.

“I do like my girls' nights! And I’m not frowny” you grumbled, almost offended he would suggest otherwise.

“No?” he challenged, arching a brow as he took a few steps towards you. “‘Cause last I checked, this wasn’t your pretty smile,” he teased, tracing a thumb against your persistently downturned lips. Your smile naturally grew at that, and he beamed in response. “There’s my girl.”

Your eyes widened at his words, and your reaction must have made Ben realize what he was doing. With slightly widened eyes of his own, he dropped his hand from your face as if burned and turned away from you once more, busying himself with making your coffee - exactly the way you liked it.

You watched in silence, your feet softly swaying against the lower cabinets as your mind drifted in and out. “You don’t have any company tonight?” you found yourself asking suddenly.

“Think I’d be in here doing this if I had fucking company?” he asked hotly. “And I’m pretty sure you know when the last time I had company was,” he added bitterly.

Through all the months of you living with Ben, you had noticed when his parade of bed warmers had started to dwindle down; and you had definitely noticed when it stopped altogether. Part of you likes to wish you had something to do with it, while the other part knew that was insane.

“Okay, grouchy,” you scolded with a chuckle. “Don’t act like it’s my fault.”

“When the fuck did I act like it was your fault?” he snapped, growing exasperated.

“Are you almost done?” you asked brazenly, ignoring his question. “I’m thirsty.”

“Coming right up, princess,” he sneered.

You knew it was meant in a derogatory way based on his tone, yet you couldn’t help the warm tingle that spread through you anyway.

“Here,” he grunted after a few minutes, nearly shoving the mug at you. He raised his eyebrows impatiently when all you did was stare down at it. “I better not have made this for nothing,” he warned.

You gingerly took it from his hands, staring at it as if it was a foreign object; because, with a fluttering heart, you realized that he gave you your favourite mug - though you knew it was probably just a coincidence.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, grinning softly at him before taking a sip.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes as he hastily turned his back on you once more.

“You seem extra grumpy tonight,” you pointed out, watching him intently as you happily sipped away.

“Who fucking cares?” he grumbled, keeping his attention off you as he made himself a drink - a strong one. He had a sinking feeling that if he looked at you he’d feel all warm inside again, and he refused to let that happen. “Besides. Maybe me being extra grumpy has to do with the drunk girl currently sitting on my counter.”

“Oh,” you said meekly. “I’m bothering you?”

“You always fucking bother me,” he mumbled, slamming the bottle down.

“I don’t mean to,” you assured quietly, your vision growing blurry with unshed tears. “I thought we’ve been getting along,” you added sadly.

“Me putting up with you isn’t us getting along, dollface,” he sneered.

You inhaled sharply at his declaration, your tears finally breaking loose and running down your face. “I can just leave you alone, then,” you offered, your voice a mere whisper.

Ben made the mistake of glancing over at you, and the pang of guilt he felt inside his chest really pissed him off. He begrudgingly made his way over to you, standing between your swaying legs as he tried to meet your gaze - but you refused to acknowledge his presence.

“Look at me,” he ordered, placing a hand on your chin to force your gaze on him.

“No,” you said, closing your eyes.

He let out an honest chuckle at your stubbornness, and if you had been able to see him, you would’ve noticed his eyes sparkle with affection. “Look at me,” he said again, much softer this time as his thumbs wiped away your tears.

You let out a resigned breath, slowly looking up at him.

“There she is,” he cooed, a small smile growing on his face. “Hey, darlin’.”

“Hi,” you replied solemnly, your face scrunching ever so slightly in confusion over the interaction.

He didn’t speak for a while. Instead he just stood there, staring at you with your face in his hands as he tried to figure out what the hell to say next.

“Look, just- stop crying, alright?” he said awkwardly, almost nervously.

“Is that your idea of being comforting?” you asked dejectedly, almost laughing in disbelief.

His grip on your cheeks tightened ever so slightly for a fraction of a second, before loosening again. “You and I both know that offering comfort isn’t my thing.”

“You could at least try,” you muttered snidely. “I’m tired of being the only one of us who tries.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” he snapped, letting you go and taking a step back in order to glare at you.

You scoffed, frustratingly swiping away angry tears that began to stream down your face. “It doesn’t matter.”

A heavy silence blanketed the two of you, and you picked up your mug to idly sip at it once more as he stared you down. He suddenly let out a frustrated huff, swearing and muttering under his breath as he turned away from you and grabbed his glass. With disbelieving eyes, you watched as he left the kitchen without a second glance. You weren’t a stranger to arguments with Ben, but this time, it felt different.

You stayed where you were perched, silently finishing your coffee and trying to make sense of everything that happened. You worked yourself back up into another frenzy as you thought everything over, and by the time your mug was empty you slammed it onto the counter with so much force you were surprised it didn’t break. Hopping off the counter, you began to stumble your way to your bedroom while angrily grumbling to yourself. A new inferno was set alight within you when along the way you came across Ben, nonchalantly lounging in the den as if nothing ever even happened.

“How many fucking times do I have to tell you not to do that inside?” you snapped, watching in growing contemptment as he merely glanced in your direction before turning his attention elsewhere, smoke billowing over his face.

“Tell you what, princess,” he muttered, taking another long drag from the joint he held. “I’ll stop smokin’ inside, as soon as you start payin’ for this fucking place.”

Without so much as giving it a second thought, you marched over to him and ripped the joint from his hands. He raised an eyebrow as he watched you with curiosity, a smirk already forming on his lips.

“I said,” you seethed, grabbing the ashtray from the side table as you stared him down. “Stop.”

He stayed silent, watching as you crushed the joint in the tray before tossing it back on the table with a clang. The corners of his mouth twitched as he fought back an amused grin before he steeled himself.

“I’ll go ahead and give you ten seconds to leave,” he announced calmly, though you knew him well enough by now to notice the hint of warning in his tone.

“Or what?” you challenged, stubbornly crossing your arms.

Normally, you knew when to stop trying to push his buttons, but you had just enough alcohol still coursing through you to keep on going this time.

He leaned forward, his presence completely imposing despite the fact he was sitting and you were standing over him. “Do you really want to find out?”

You shifted nervously as you took in his expression, and you knew he was both pissed off and annoyed; then again, it was rare that he wasn’t.

“Whatever,” you finally muttered, turning away to leave.

It wasn’t due to you being afraid of him - yes, he was intimidating as all hell, but he had never once actually physically hurt you. Despite the many times the urge struck him, and no matter how much he despised it, he quickly learned that you’re the one person he could never lay a harmful hand on. No, you simply left because you were growing exhausted over this whole night, and you just wanted some peace and quiet.

“Thought so,” he grumbled behind your back, snickering as you momentarily stopped in your tracks.

“Oh, just go to hell, Benjamin!” you exclaimed, whipping the closest thing you could grab towards his head.

He caught it easily, laughing heartily when he realized what it was. “Thanks, doll. This is just what I needed,” he teased with a grin, rattling the pill bottle as he held it in the air for you to see. “It’s the only way I can fuckin’ put up with you.”

You stared at him carefully, and you could tell just by the look in his eyes that he only said it to get another rise out of you, but you couldn’t help the way your bottom lip trembled as you fought back more tears.

His face instantly fell as he noticed your reaction, and while it was his intention, he instantly regretted it. With a heavy sigh, he tossed the bottle aside and stood up.

“What are you-” you began to ask as he made his way over to you, but he cut you off.

“Just shut up for once,” he muttered, a trace of a lighthearted chuckle in his voice as he shook his head.

You opened your mouth to fire off more insults when he shocked all the words out of your vocabulary by wrapping his arms around you. He rested his chin on the top of your head, and even though you felt insurmountable anger towards him, you quickly found yourself melting into his touch, your arms tightening around his torso. A few moments passed by before he let out a small sigh, his fingers tracing a feather-light pattern along your back; a gentleness neither of you knew he was even capable of.

“Look, I-... I didn’t… mean it,” he finally said. His tone was tight and awkward, and you knew it was a near impossible thing for him to actually admit. Honestly, hearing those words from him was nothing short of a miracle.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, knowing this was the closest you would ever get to an apology from him.

“How about we get you to bed, huh?” he asked lightly, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Yeah,” you said, pulling away from him. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

You quickly left before he could respond, making it to your bedroom and locking yourself away in the bathroom to get ready. You took your time, carefully scrubbing away all the traces of the club, and the rest of the night, that you could before slipping into your night clothes.

The first thing your bleary eyes noticed when you reentered your bedroom was Ben, paused in the middle of your room with a glass of water in his hand.

“What are you doing?” you asked curiously, rubbing at your tired eyes.

He let out a heavy exhale, looking at you with an expression you’ve never seen on him before. “Was just… bringing this to leave for you."

“Thanks,” you replied awkwardly, meeting him halfway to take the glass from him.

He stared at you for a moment, watching as you made your way to the bed and under the covers. He wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure what.

“I’ve been trying, you know,” he suddenly grumbled, unable to take the tense silence any longer.

“What?” you wondered aloud, glancing over at him.

His face was scrunched in concentration as he stared at something straight ahead, unable to bring himself to meet your gaze. “With you. To be… I don’t know… better.”

His words took you by surprise, and you felt a little guilty for making him think you never noticed. “I know that,” you admitted softly.

“I don’t think you do,” he quipped, his voice more aggressive than he meant it to be. “You bother me all the fucking time.”

“You know-” you began to argue, anger starting to simmer deep within your bones again.

“Stop,” he all but growled, holding up a hand. “Just fucking listen for once.”

You glowered at him, folding your arms as you sank further under the covers, as if seeking some kind of protection, while waiting for him to continue.

It took him a while to speak up again, and you almost thought he’d never continue, but he hesitantly explained himself. “You bother me… because you make me different.”

“What do you mean?” you asked tentatively.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, chuckling humourlessly. “I’m a dick. I don’t care that I’m a dick. But you- I’m around you, and I want to be less…” he trailed off with a sigh, unsure of how to go on.

“Less dickish?” you offered, fighting off a smile.

“Yeah,” he agreed, awkwardly clearing his throat. “Yeah, I guess so.”

You hummed thoughtfully, thinking over your response. “In case you haven’t noticed, you don’t exactly send me running for the hills, Ben.”

“I know that,” he said passively. “I just… I don’t know. Don’t think that I don’t try.”

He finally turned to look at you, and you could see the pleading in his eyes; the hurt. You sighed in defeat, sitting up and gesturing for him to take up the space beside you. He hesitated, raising a brow in contemplation before making his way over. You peeled back the covers for him, and he carefully slid in; cautious, as though he thought it was a trap.

Neither of you were sure what to do next, and after a few minutes of awkward silence, you laid down to settle in for some sleep. Ben followed suit, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in close; you instinctively nestled against him, relishing in the warmth he provided.

“I hope you don’t think I’m drunk enough to forget that you were actually sweet tonight,” you said suddenly, your voice a playful whisper.

He let out a chuckle, his chest rumbling beneath your cheek and forcing a small giggle from you.

“Just don’t expect it all the time,” he declared, a playful undertone in his voice as well. “I’m mostly sour.”

Though despite his declaration, his grip tightened to pull you in a little closer.

“Well,” you said, closing your eyes and relaxing against him. “Sweet and sour does happen to be my favourite combination.”

“And thank Christ for that,” he muttered, more to himself than anything.

You smiled to yourself, hearing his words despite them sounding far away. You had a fleeting intent to respond, but your mind grew too heavy, and you quickly fell asleep to the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your head - though, not before you felt him placing a lingering kiss to your hairline, paired with a murmured goodnight, sweetheart.

tagging: @roseblue373

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fic #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy fluff #soldier boy angst #jensen ackles #jensen ackles soldier boy #the boys tv #the boys #the boys series #soldier boy the boys

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sanguineterrain · 9 months

Text

restroom attendant | jason todd

Summary: Tonight is the worst night ever--you just got dumped on your birthday, and all you want to do is cry in the restaurant bathroom in peace. That is, until, the Red Hood bursts in. This city just won't cut you a break.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings/tags: humor, mild angst, reader's ex-bf cheats and dumps her, jason is such a silly goose, flirting, meet ugly, canon-typical violence, awkward jason, comic relief dick grayson.

A/N: this is probably the silliest fic i've ever written LOL! i hope you guys enjoy it. please support your local jason todd enthusiast and reblog :)

the divider

Tonight sucks.

With a shaky hand, you attempt to soothe your swollen eyes. You’ve probably been in here for about twenty minutes. Your Uber has definitely left, as has your now ex-boyfriend of three years.

Yoga instructor. It’s always the yoga instructor. They’re always fucking the yoga instructor.

You swallow a mouthful of tears and phlegm and try not to let the wet sink touch your dress. All you’d wanted was a little class on your birthday, maybe have some wine and play footsie under the table with your boyfriend. But no. That would’ve been too easy for you.

You’re starting to think this city is cursed.

The door slams open. The force of it shakes the bathroom, rattles the mirrors. You spin around.

A man slides across the floor and smacks his head on the opposite wall. Red Hood appears in the doorway, the eyes of his helmet glowing eerily.

Yep. Definitely cursed.

"Let's try this again," Hood says pleasantly, reloading his gun with a fresh magazine. "And in the interest of making myself transparent: when I ask you a question, Jerry, I expect a truthful answer."

He stalks over to Jerry and heaves him up by the lapels of his suit jacket. Hood's biceps bulge as he holds Jerry against the wall. You squish yourself against the sink. Water soaks the back of your dress.

"You're crazy, I didn't do anything!" Jerry shouts, feet barely scraping the floor.

"Volume, Jerry. People are trying to enjoy their meals.”

“Let go of me, Hood! I wasn’t anywhere near the Iceberg Lounge!”

“Yeah, see, words are coming outta your mouth, but they don't match the fact that I have three people who put you at the scene. How can we remedy this inconsistency? Any ideas?"

Jerry squirms, but he's no match for Hood's strength. Your heart pounds in your chest.

"Don't give me to the cops!" Jerry begs.

"Cops are the least of your worries right now," Hood snarls. "You're damn lucky Nightwing wants to talk to you, Jerry, or your head would hurt a lot more."

Slowly, you reach for your purse, trying to pull out your phone. Instead, you knock it to the floor. Tears gather in your eyes because this night just can’t cut you a break.

“Motherfucker,” you whisper.

Hood turns, those frightening white eyes now on you. Jerry also looks at you, legs still dangling.

“Hey,” Hood says without a sign of struggle. “Shit. Y'alright? Did I swipe ya?”

“No,” you say, voice shaky.

His posture softens. “Okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t be afraid.”

“I believe you. But, um… you're in the women's bathroom.”

Red Hood gives the room a onceover.

“Huh. So we are. Dunno how that happened.” He shakes Jerry by the collar. “Why’d you run into the women’s bathroom, asshole?”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Don't kill me!” Jerry wails.

“Shut it, Jesus. I'm not gonna kill you. Not yet, anyway.”

“It's fine, I was just leaving,” you say, bending down to get your purse.

“Hey, no, don't let me push you out,” Hood says. “Sorry. I'll be gone in a couple minutes.”

Hood adjusts his grip so Jerry's face is against the wall, arms and legs restrained. Then he zipties Jerry and sits him down hard on the floor. Hood presses a button on his helmet.

“Yo, N, I'm at Prescott's. Yeah, with Jerry. No, I didn't tell him to run in here, he did that all on his own! Well, I chased him for ten blocks, so I’d prefer if you’d keep your bitching to yourself. Thank you… Okay, we're in the women's bathroom, so—well, I didn't do it on purpose! No, I’m—will you just come here? There’s a side window.” Hood presses the button again with a grunt. “Dickhead.”

“Are you gonna erase my memory?” you ask.

Hood jerks, turning back to you.

“What? Hell no, I'm not gonna erase your memory. I don't do that shit, I promise.”

You slump against the sink. “That's too bad. I would prefer it.”

He looks up from Jerry’s last ziptie and pulls it extra tight. Jerry whimpers.

“How come?” Hood asks.

You shake your head. “It's nothing.”

“Hm. Doesn't look like nothing. If you're in danger—”

“I'm not in danger. I…”

You glance at Hood. You can't see his face, but his body language seems genuine. From what you've heard, Hood isn't known for mincing words or doing things he doesn't want to. And he’s good to Gothamites. Well, the law-abiding ones, anyway. He’s even been endorsed by Batman.

What's the harm in telling him about your disastrous night? Not like you'll see him again. Or Jerry.

“I got dumped,” you say.

“Ah.” Hood nods. “Been there.”

Somehow, the idea of Red Hood getting dumped is weirder than him beating up a guy in the women’s bathroom of Prescott’s.

You sniffle, and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Yeah, um. It was our three year anniversary today. He took me here, told me he was in love with his yoga instructor, and then left.”

You tear up thinking about it. Hood makes a quiet noise.

“Shit. Well, I haven't been there,” he says. “But I know infidelity. I'm sorry. Dudes are trash.”

“And it's my birthday today,” you blurt, sniffling.

“Happy birthday,” Jerry says, clutching his stomach.

“What a fucking asshole!” Hood snarls, and lets go of Jerry, who crumples like a sack of potatoes. He’s out cold in a second, frozen on the floor.

Your brows rise. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. It’s his first time in Gotham.” Hood shrugs. “Anyway, where was I? Right, your asshole ex. Like it's not enough to publicly dump you, and then he goes and does it on your birthday? Who is this guy? I'll go talk to him right now.”

You laugh a loud, snorting laugh. It bounces off the tiles.

Hood tilts his head. “What’d I say?”

You catch your breath and wave your hand.

“No, nothing, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a crappy night and that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered to me.”

“I mean it,” Hood says. “I’ll scare him if you want.”

“As tempting as that is, I don’t want to be an accessory to a crime.”

You also don’t want to put your ex in the ICU, no matter how much he might deserve it. Best to let the universe do its thing.

“You’d be acquitted, don’t worry.” Hood leans against the stall. “I’d never letcha go to jail.”

You smile, your ears growing warm. “You don’t even know me. What if I deserve it?”

“Nah. I got a good sense about people. I can tell you’re sweet. Probably don’t even run through red lights.”

“I try not to,” you say, heat spreading to your face.

“Yeah, a good girl. I figured as much.”

Your eyes widen. Hood coughs and rubs his neck. Even his coughs sound intimidating through the helmet, but that’s negated by his scrunched-up posture.

“Fuck. Sorry. That wasn’t a come-on,” he says. “I mean, it sounded like one, but I’m realizing what a creep I am, flirting with you in a bathroom with a zip-tied criminal. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I hate myself.”

You grin. “It’s okay. You made my night better, actually. Thanks.”

“That’s a testament to how terrible your night’s been if I made it better.”

You shrug. “Could always be worse. I bet Jerry had an even shittier night than me.”

“You’d win that bet. But I—”

The window swings open with a clunk. Nightwing pops his head in. He looks at Hood, then you.

“Uh,” he says. “Evening. What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is it took you almost ten minutes to get here,” Hood says, back in Vigilante Mode. “Did you get lost?”

Nightwing smiles with all his teeth. “I was actually cleaning up your mess at the Bowery, Hood. You’re welcome.”

He looks at you. “Hi. Sorry about this. I hope we didn’t ruin your night. If there’s anything we can reimburse you for…”

You shake your head. “It’s okay. My night was already sunk. Don’t worry about it. Thanks for keeping Gotham safe.”

Nightwing laughs. “The pleasure is ours.”

“Alright, enough chattering, Dickwing,” Hood says. “Take him.”

He lifts the unconscious Jerry, pushing him up to the window. He does so effortlessly, his jacket riding up to reveal his skin-tight jumpsuit.

You look away before he catches you staring. There’s definitely something wrong with you.

Nightwing takes Jerry and waves at you. Then he disappears.

“So, uh,” Hood says. “I gotta go.”

“Oh! Right, of course. Sorry to keep you.”

“Now what’re you apologizing for?” he asks, and it almost sounds like a tease. You wonder what his smile looks like. What color his eyes are.

“Well, I really didn’t mean to keep you…”

“You didn’t keep me,” Hood says, and you can hear the warmth even through his decoder. “This is probably the best arrest I’ve ever made.”

He starts to climb through the window, then stops. He digs into one of the pockets of his belt and pulls out a scrap of paper.

“This is my number,” he says. “Well, it’s kind of the vigilante hotline. But you can reach me here, in case you ever need help.”

Hood walks over to give it to you. He smells like gunpowder and oranges. He’s even larger this close, the width of his shoulders dwarfing you.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

He nods and backs up, clapping his hands.

“Right. So I’ll go… Bye.”

Hood looks at you for a moment more. Then he hops up onto the window sill and slides out, somehow graceful despite his bulk. The window closes.

Your dress has dried, which is nice. You walk out of the bathroom. It’s a miracle no one else has come in.

You get your coat and this time, when you see the empty seat across from yours, you don’t burst into tears, which is progress. You call another Uber and go to wait for it at the front. The hostess approaches you.

“Ma’am?” she says, and holds out a small, plastic container. In it is a slice of tiramisu.

“I didn’t order this,” you say.

“It was called in and paid for by a Mr. R.H. He wishes you a happy birthday.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

You’re definitely leaving a five-star review on Yelp.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #batman fanfiction #dc fanfiction #jason todd reader insert

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hollowdeath · 8 months

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Hello, I was wondering if it'd be possible for you to do an enemies to lovers with Harry Potter (with smut)? I feel like since Harry's life has been focused on Voldemort, he hasn't had a lot of time to think about things like crushes, and he's only had a couple of girlfriends here and there, but he's never felt such strong feelings for someone like y/n, so he deals with them by having a disliking towards her. (maybe he has a breeding kink? 🙏🙏) Maybe she's dracos sister? I dunno, all I know is that your fanfics are beautifully written, and you are my FAV tumblr author. Thank you ❤️

hi! thank you so much for requesting! you are so so sweet, i appreciate it so much <3 i had a lotttt of fun writing this one, i hope you like it!

pairing: harry james potter x fem!slytherin!reader (18+)

summary: harry becomes infatuated with you, draco malfoy's little sister, whom he's extremely protective over. though harry's confusion when it came to you lead him to hating you for several years, he eventually sees who you truly are, and loves what he finds.

c/w: mostly angst/fluff, slow burn, some smut at the end (oral & penetrative sex with some minor breeding kink). and, of course, briefly edited, all lowercase, not exactly book/movie/canon accurate, you know me !

word count: 14.6k (i'm so sorry)

a/n: soo i kinda ran with the draco's sister plot line lol. i actually had 2 other requests that also asked for a slytherin reader, so i tried to make it all in one! i hope everyone enjoys!

it wasn't until year 2 that harry learned draco actually had a little sister who would now be attending hogwarts with them. "how did you not know?" hermione had asked him, dumbfounded. "you've never heard someone mention [y/n] malfoy?"

harry tried to pay attention to hermione's questions, but he couldn't stop staring at you. you only vaguely looked like draco, maybe more so from certain angles, but there was something so completely different and unique about you. you carried yourself differently than draco. no constant sneer or narrowed eyes looking for trouble; instead, a soft smile, gentle touch, and nervous giggle. harry wasn't sure what to make of you. how could someone like you be related to such an evil pest like draco malfoy?

"blimey, harry, we're over here," ron whines, snapping his fingers in harry's face. harry looks back at his friends with guilt. "sorry, it's just, she doesn't seem related to draco," he says.

hermione makes a face. "i still wouldn't trust her regardless, the malfoys are nothing but evil trouble,"

harry glances back at you again, laughing with a few other first year girls waiting for the sorting hat.

it came as no surprise to anyone when you, a malfoy heir, were quickly sorted as a slytherin, their table erupting into cheers as you excitedly ran to a cheerful draco. harry remarked this as one of the first times he's seen draco actually look happy, a genuine grin plastered across his face as he gives you a big hug.

it almost feels wrong to see draco be affectionate with someone. harry's never seen someone make draco soften so much so quickly. as he's guiding you to sit next to him at the table, harry can actually hear him congratulating you. "see, i told you, nothing to worry about."

seeing him be so brotherly with you was so off putting it was almost upsetting to harry. if draco does have feelings, then why is he so awful to harry and his friends for no reason? and not just them, but to almost every student or professor? it just made no sense to him. harry hated hypocrites.

after the ceremony, harry's heading to the gryffindor common room when draco sharply cuts in front of him, standing nose to nose in the hallway.

draco looks harry up and down with a sneer. "i saw you staring at my baby sister, potter. try anything with her and you're dead."

harry's caught off guard but sneers back at draco, disgusted at his insinuation. "wasn't planning on it, draco. hermione's right, your family is nothing but trouble."

you come up behind draco, pulling on his robes softly. "draco," you say.

draco gives you one last warning look before taking you by the shoulders, guiding you away from harry. "let's go, [y/n]," he says with disgust.

as draco pulls you away, you swiftly turn over your shoulder and wave at harry with a big grin on your face. "hi, harry!" you call out excitedly before draco turns you around and walks you down the hallway quicker.

harry waves weakly. now he's really not sure what to think. draco is clearly protective of you and doesn't want you to even talk to harry. but you seem so kind and friendly, and harry can't deny how cute your smile is…

harry brushes off the situation, meeting ron and hermione at the top of the stairs where they were waiting for him. "what was that all about?" ron asked.

harry rolls his eyes. "nothing. can we just go?"

ron and hermione look at each other, a bit confused at harry's annoyance, but don't push him any further.

it's on this walk with ron and hermione that harry decides he hates you. as far as he's concerned, you're just another draco to him. he doesn't care if you seem nice, hermione's right - he can't trust you. not even for a second. not even if you look at him with those big beautiful eyes, that soft smile, your infectious giggle…no, harry hates you. and he hates draco. nothing's going to change that.

harry actually manages to not have another interaction with you until the beginning of 4th year, though that never stopped the longing stares between you two. harry often caught you attempting to talk to him, but always figured out a way around it to avoid you completely. he wasn't scared of draco's threat; harry knew he was serious but he wasn't afraid of draco. he simply had no desire to be around you, not even for a second.

mainly because he knew you could easily win him over if you wanted to.

harry had tried to deny it for over a year before he finally admitted to himself that fine, okay, maybe he does find [y/n] extremely pretty…but that doesn't have to mean anything. he still avoided you like the plague as draco continued to torment harry and his friends like normal.

at the beginning of fourth year, however, you made it a point to find harry when he was alone and practically force him into a conversation with you. he tries to get away when he sees it's you coming up next to him in the hallway, but you grab his arm. "harry. please."

harry pauses. he hasn't really heard your voice since you were in your first year, and only barely. it was so soft and kind, and just a hint sad as you asked him to speak for a moment.

he turns to you reluctantly. he knew this wasn't going to be good. he's already a little lost just looking in your eyes, but keeps himself focused as you begin talking to him.

"you've been avoiding me for almost 3 years now, and don't try to deny it because i'm not stupid…" you say, your tone of sadness only more pronounced. harry's awkwardly diverting his gaze, watching as you both slowly become some of the only students left in the hallway. he doesn't intend on replying, instead letting silence fill the air between you.

"i know you and draco don't get along but, can't we at least be civil? i'm not like him like that," you ask, your voice slightly desperate.

harry glares at you, ripping his arm away from your lingering grasp. he was never one to get angry at someone being so kind to him without reason, but he just couldn't stand you. you confused him, you made his heart race, you made him feel crazy for disliking someone so intensely when they haven't done anything wrong, but he couldn't help it.

"draco is an evil, blood purist bully. and as far as i'm concerned, you're nothing but his little shadow. so no, we cannot be civil." harry spits at you, his voice dripping in anger.

your face drops, but he's already stomping away, his blood pumping from the adrenaline rush of simply speaking to you.

"well fuck off, then. i was just being nice."

harry turns around at your loud voice, seeing you in tears just before you turn around and run out of the hallway, a few lingering students watching and looking over at harry as well.

harry just ignores them and continues walking away. he feels guilty, of course, you really were just trying to be nice despite harry's relationship with draco, but harry can't let his guard down for even a second. he's got so many other parts of his life that require his attention and time, he can't risk getting caught up in his feelings over his enemy's sister in the middle of it all.

it was easier for both of you if harry just put that wall up right away and ignored his other feelings for you. the feelings of longing, the feeling of guilt…

after that day, you and harry hadn't spoken to each other again. there was always looking, staring from across the room in both admiration and disdain. you found harry to be incredibly rude after that encounter and never saw him quite the same, but you couldn't help but watch him through the years as he grew into himself. and he had the same issue, only finding you more and more beautiful as time went on, from an adorable girl with the cutest laugh he's ever heard to a gorgeous woman in every sense of the word.

harry had a few crushes throughout this time at hogwarts and, ironically, even dated his best friend's sister at some point, but always found himself disinterested in all of them after a while for one reason or another. harry was constantly on edge these last few years and would practically lose himself in the situations he was in. his world would be turned upside down and he was expected to fix it every time. at that point, he just couldn't bring himself to care about a crush or even a relationship after experiencing what he's gone through.

what harry did always care about, though, was you.

not in a traditional sense, at least. he didn't necessarily want bad things to happen to you, not at all actually. he had always kept an eye on you during your years together. he didn't have any reason to, you guys were anything but friends, but harry felt a responsibility to keep you safe for some reason.

by harry's last year, draco had more or less left him alone completely. no more bullying or picking fights or spewing names, draco was now a sullen shell of who he used to be with no motivation to do anything but graduate and leave hogwarts behind.

harry couldn't blame him. he had to give it to draco, he went through a lot. though harry believed it all happened due to draco's own stupidity and selfishness that left him alone and depressed in the end, he still felt for him, if only a little bit. if not for what it did to you.

you had never given in to your family's connections to the dark lord, even when things were at their most detrimental point in the war, you stood with your fellow classmates, and, ultimately, with harry. draco couldn't say the same.

harry remembers being shocked, but not entirely sure why. he knew who you really were outside of your surname: a kind, understanding, empathetic person who brought light to people's days. but still, after all this time, there was a part of harry that still believed it might have all just been an act. he knew he was being ridiculous once he saw you turn away from your own parents and brother, not for harry, but for what was right.

since then, harry's felt different about you. rather than feeling anger or confusion whenever he saw your face or the back of your head in the hall, all he felt was happiness. he was happy to see you, happy that everything was okay now, happy that you had been genuine this whole time…though, of course, that came with the guilt of being so awful to you previously.

harry had been meaning to apologize to you and finally settle things before the end of the year. the issue was getting you away from draco.

since draco began struggling after the war, you two were practically attached at the hip. you tried everything in your power to help your brother, to be there for him, to reassure him; it killed you to see him so disappointed in everything, especially himself. harry found it sweet, of course, just how much you were willing to try for draco, but he ultimately saw it as a lost cause. if draco wanted to wallow in self-pity for knowingly being on the wrong side of the war, harry couldn't care less.

however, he cared for you, of course, so he respected your space around draco as harry knew he would only make things worse.

he was still determined to speak to you alone, so he figured out what classes you and draco had, both together and separately, and found a time where you would be alone. your last class of the day ended before draco's did, so harry waited by your classroom door until the bell rang.

once he saw you exit, talking with a friend, it took him a moment to build the courage to interrupt the conversation. but he knew he had to do this now, or else he'd never do it at all.

"[y/n]," harry said, coming up behind you and your friend. you both turned to him, your face instantly going pale. "oh," your friend had said, looking at you and harry before giving you a smirk and a simple goodbye.

you waved her off and turned back to harry, a complex look on your face. harry smiled tightly. "i was, um, wondering if we could speak, just for a moment," harry stumbles through his words, gesturing to an empty hall to your right. you take a moment to look around you, but nod at him and head around the corner to the less used hallway.

harry sighs as you turn to him, arms crossed, watching intently. "uh, look," harry says awkwardly, his hands going to his head in stress. "just, since everything that's happened, i've been thinking a lot…" harry continues, not able to look at you.

"i'm sure you have," you say softly. your voice is a mix of sincerity and sarcasm. it stings. harry can tell you're disappointed, angry, sad, and above all, completely hurt.

he chooses his next words carefully. "i'm sorry. for everything. for what happened with you and your family. for putting you through so much. for treating you how i did. i let my anger for draco and your family get in the way of my judgment." harry says softly, staring at the ground. "you didn't deserve that. none of you did. and i'll live with the guilt forever."

you're still watching harry, your weight shifting to the side, arms slowly uncrossing.

"i'm not asking you to forgive me. i just wanted to say sorry." harry sighs, sneaking a look at you before quickly looking away down the hall. your expression is unreadable. confusion, shock, sadness.

you leave a few moments of silence before replying, thinking of what you want to say to harry after all these years. you clear your throat, your hands folding together in front of you. "you should be sorry," you say simply.

harry's heart drops, but he's not surprised at your response. he knows you won't be easy to win over.

"i grew up idolizing you, harry. do you know how heartbreaking it was for you to hate me because of something i can't control?" your voice is breaking, your eyes turning away from him as well. harry doesn't move or respond. he knows he deserves to hear this.

you sigh shakily, trying to regain control. "but," you say sharply, causing harry to look towards you. your eyes were still diverted, nervously wringing your hands together. "there's no guilt to be had. you didn't do anything. you didn't choose this life. everything that happened to all of us was happening to you too." you say flatly.

you glance at harry, who's surprised at your words. "you were just a kid, harry." you tell him softly. harry's eyes threaten to tear up as he turns his head away quickly. you look back down the hall in front of you. "but so was i, and i didn't deserve that from you. so, yes, while i don't forgive you yet, i do accept your apology." you say with a suppressed smile. harry also has a small smile on his cheeks from what you can see.

another few moments of silence pass before harry sighs, relieved. "well, thank you."

the bell rings, and harry's heart drops. draco. he's going to be looking for you. he turns to the other hallway before looking back at you. "i guess i better go," he says. you smile sadly at him. "yeah. guess so." you say quietly.

harry gives you a sad smile too before leaving you behind, looking around to make sure draco wasn't close by before leaving down the hall.

harry wasn't afraid of draco. he never had been, but he certainly didn't want to see how he'd react to harry talking to his sister, even just casually. harry understands to an extent, if he had a sister he'd never let her near draco–but that's because he's draco. harry's a good guy, and he'd treat you well.

harry shakes his head at his thoughts.

what is he doing? he just wanted to apologize to you. nothing more. just because you make his heart flutter and are probably the most beautiful girl he'll ever know doesn't mean he has to like you. even though harry can't deny just how much he admired you for what you sacrificed during the war. when you turned your back to lucius and narcissa, your face stained with tears, hands in a fist, harry remembers thinking this must be what an angel looks like in real life. all of the evil in the world at your fingertips to corrupt you and you were strong enough, smart enough, to say no to it all in the face of war.

but that didn't have to mean anything, right?

right. harry could appreciate what you've done and still keep his distance with you. he apologized for his behavior, and you might've proved his suspicions about you to be wrong, but you were still a malfoy. one good, precious apple out of the entire rotten orchard isn't going to change his mind.

the next day, harry's just splitting ways with hermione outside the library when he catches your eye from down the hall. "harry!" you call out, walking quickly in his direction.

harry turns to you, instinctively smiling before letting his face go blank. "[y/n]," he says, surprised, as you come up beside him. "what's wrong?"

you laugh a bit, giving harry a look. "what? nothing's wrong. i figured we could maybe eat lunch together."

harry's a bit stunned. he takes a look around you both. obviously you had been alone, but he was still a bit suspicious of draco's absence. you two had been practically glued together this last year or so, it was almost odd to see you without him.

"oh, sure, um…" harry says, still shocked as he continues scanning the faces around you. you laugh again, putting your hand on harry's arm as you guide him to the dining hall. "just us, don't worry. draco's sick in bed for the day."

harry's a bit relieved at your words, but gets the sense that you think harry's afraid of draco seeing you two together. he might not want it to happen for one reason or another, but he's not afraid. he just wants to be respectful. though he's not entirely sure why, as draco has never given him the same in return.

sitting down at an empty spot at the gryffindor table, you start making a plate for yourself with the plentiful food options in front of you. harry sits across from you, his heart racing thinking about everyone seeing [y/n] malfoy and harry potter spending time together. weren't they well-known enemies of the school? i thought they hated each other? what does draco think about this?

harry started eating his food along with you, a comfortable but strange silence falling over you two. he wasn't sure if he should break it by asking why you wanted to meet with him, and he wasn't sure if he really wanted to know why.

after a few minutes, you wipe your face with a napkin and set down your utensils. "harry, i wanted to tell you something."

really? harry's heart could only beat harder. that was the last thing he wanted to hear from you right now. he was already practically sweating from the anxiety.

harry waits patiently for you, his eyes fixed on yours. he notices just how pretty they are in comparison to your skin, hair, lips, it just all makes sense together, like someone was extensively planning a beautiful painting when it came to your features.

you seem a tad nervous before looking down at your food and continuing. "i've decided i would like to try and be friends, if you'd like that." you seem flustered, almost embarrassed to ask. "i know there's been a lot of complications since year 3 when i first asked to be civil, but…y'know, like i already let spill, i've really admired you my whole life and…"

harry has never seen you so nervous. it was totally endearing, your mannerisms, your quiet voice, like a pet wanting approval.

"and, i think i would just really love to spend some time with you. and learn how to forgive you, of course." you add on the last part with a bit of coldness. it subtly reminds harry of draco. but you flash him a smirk before taking another bite of food, and it's like draco never existed.

harry smiles warmly. just a year ago if you had asked him this he would've laughed in your face and ignored you because it angered him that you think you two could ever be friends. but harry's changed a lot since then, he sees the human in you, and he's no longer suspicious of your intentions. though his guard is still up, he's not sure it'll ever really come down, he wants to reach out to you now.

with another bite of his food as well, harry casually nods his head. "yeah, i think we could be friends."

more silence passes before you finish your plate. "well, to commemorate our newfound friendship," you say as you raise your glass to him. harry chuckles. "a toast after we've already eaten?" he asks incredulously. you roll your eyes slightly, a smile still poking at your lips. "just do it, potter."

potter. the nickname can only remind him of draco. but somehow, it feels different coming from your mouth, in your voice. it's not harsh, it's not condescending, if anything it's full of love and care. it's admirable.

harry picks up his own glass and clinks it against yours, still chuckling to himself. "to newfound friendship."

it had been a few weeks of you and harry hanging out, and he was over the moon about it. you two had wonderful chemistry together, he'd come to learn, and your sense of humor was enthralling to him. you were always able to get a smile out of him, even sometimes just from a single look. you both enjoyed reading and would spend hours at the library together, you enjoyed going to harry's last few quidditch matches of the year to cheer him on, and harry loved helping you study for your exams. the more time you spent together, the more harry had let his guard down around you. you were really starting to grow on him. he found himself thinking about you all the time, and not in a negative way like he used to for so many years.

now, when he thought of or saw you, his heart ached with how much he truly cared about you. he thought about the night you two ended up sneaking out together simply just to talk under the moonlight, where you told him everything about your complicated relationship with your family. he told you all about his fight against voldemort, the months he spent looking for horcruxes, and what it was like being the chosen one at such a young age. he remembers how intently you watched and listened to him. he had never met someone so intrigued by his life and feelings. you were extremely empathetic to what he had gone through, and it was refreshing to harry. he remembers looking at you under the moon, and thinking you were truly the most beautiful thing in the world, inside and out.

when he thought of or saw you, he remembered the time you spent together just before christmas, exchanging presents in the solitary of his bedroom. simple, small gifts wrapped perfectly and neatly with sentimental value for both of you. he thought about the hug you gave him as you left his room, his gift still in hand, holding him for a few moments longer than you normally did. the way you'd said, "happy christmas, harry," with the softest, sweetest voice in the world.

when harry thought of or saw you, all he could think about was the care and admiration he had for you that only grew with time. at first.

then, he thought about draco.

harry always thought about draco when he was with you. not that he wanted to, he wished he could focus all his attention on you in the moment, but you were still his sister. harry was reminded each time you gave him a bit of attitude or curled your lips away from him that you were, in fact, still a malfoy, and your time spent with him wouldn't be looked at favorably by anyone in your family. most especially draco.

harry never brought up the prospect of your family unprompted. he knew it was a sensitive subject, but he also knew it would never end well with you. one way or another, by the end of the school year, harry was leaving and you couldn't follow. as much as he loved being around you and valued your budding friendship, he knew it was destined to fail from the beginning. he was everything your family hated and spent their lives working against. he was the chosen one. though he's sacrificed many aspects of his life because of this title, you will undoubtedly be his most painful.

and he certainly never brought up draco, as the idea itself made him sick to his stomach. it was bad enough you were related to him, but the fact that you spent pretty much every moment with draco when you weren't with harry made his skin crawl. he knew your relationship with him was not negotiable. you loved draco so deeply it was almost foreign to harry. the way you talked about him that night under the moon and the experiences he's had to go through did make harry empathize with him more than he had previously, but he was still full of anger and hatred for the little blonde boy who tried to make harry's school years a living hell.

he was thinking this over as he examined a framed picture of your family sitting on your nightstand. harry had been to your room quite a few times this year to hang out, and he was always intrigued by this specific picture. your parents, sitting in elegant thrones with you and draco on either side. you looked so out of place. not because of your stance or expression, but you just simply looked different. if harry had never known, he would've never guessed you were born into the malfoy family.

"that's a terrible photo," you laugh at harry as you continue working on an assignment. you had asked him to come help you, but really you just wanted his presence near you. harry knew this. once he figured out that most of your invitations to "study together" just meant you wanted to be near him for an hour or so every day, he was extremely grateful to provide his help. he didn't mind being around you at all, actually.

"it's…definitely something," harry laughs off, taking his attention away from the photo and topic in general.

harry sits beside you on the bed, your back on your pillows as he sits with his feet on the ground. harry's just about to bring up something when you lean towards him, holding your book in your lap. "hey, can you explain this to me?" you ask, still looking down at your assignment on the other page. "i've read this like 10 times and i still don't get it," you point out a paragraph for harry as you scoot closer to him.

harry leans in, closer than he's ever been with you, and reads the passage to himself quietly. as he's reading, he can see you shifting nervously beside him. your hands were delicately holding the book open for him, still resting on your legs, his head just below yours.

"oh, uh, i think it's talking about…" harry starts off, trying to reread the difficult wording of the section. "bloody hell," he mumbles, frustrated, reaching for the book himself to get a better look at the paragraph. you chuckle breathily, and it hits the back of harry's neck. he immediately gets chills.

he looks up towards you, and your face is nearly touching his. he would've moved away sooner but he'd be damned if he didn't take this opportunity to truly appreciate just how deeply beautiful your eyes were right now.

not a moment later, your door opens from behind harry, and he doesn't even have to look to know who it is.

you both turn slowly to see draco standing in the doorway, his eyes flashing between you and harry sitting so closely on your bed. "dray," you gasp, standing up from beside harry.

harry's frozen. the look on draco's face is one of shock and disappointment. his lips curled down tightly, a familiar darkness growing in his eyes as he focuses on harry sitting on his sister's bed.

"so. i was right. you have been avoiding me." draco says towards you as he continues to glare at harry. harry stands with you, anger slowly growing inside of him for the situation at hand. this is the last way he wanted draco to find out you two were friends.

"dray, he was just helping–""i don't wanna hear it, [y/n]." draco interrupts you. this only pisses harry off more as his jaw clenches tightly.

a moment of silence passes briefly before draco speaks again. "i told you to stay away from him, did i somehow not make that clear?" draco's eyes divert to you, his stare even colder looking at you. you're stumbling looking for your words, but harry's anger gets the best of him in the moment.

"she can make her own decisions, malfoy."

draco's eyes snap back to harry, his fists balling up at his sides. your hand instinctively goes in front of harry as you step towards draco. "it would be wise of you to shut your bloody mouth now, potter. you were the one all over my baby sister in her bed just a moment ago." draco's words are leaking with rage, taking steps closer towards harry.

"dray, stop it," you warn him, now standing between him and harry.

"[y/n], you can't be fucking serious right now. you've loathed him for years. we both have. what are you doing? have you lost your mind? i'm genuinely asking," draco is dumbfounded at his sister's actions, scanning you up and down.

"that's not even true, draco, and you know that." you tell him in a cracking voice, tears stinging your eyes. harry wants nothing more than to save you from the heartache you're experiencing in this moment. part of him wants to hurt draco for making you cry. but, inside, harry knows you would want to handle this by yourself. anything he did to hurt draco was inadvertently hurting you as well.

"harry has been nothing but a good friend to me this semester. he's even helped me pass my exams. don't do this to me right now," you tell draco slowly, tears still threatening to fall.

draco rolls his eyes at your last statement. "oh, do what? try and keep you safe? you're being utterly ridiculous right now, [y/n], and you and i both know it."

harry can sense there's something he's missing here. you and draco keep referencing something you both understand that harry doesn't seem to.

you're clearly frustrated as the first few tears start to fall down your cheeks. "i know what i'm doing, dray. please, don't you trust me?" you ask desperately, your voice shaking.

draco softens watching you fall apart in front of him. his eyes aren't as dark, his fists come undone, and he sighs as he breaks his stare at you.

"of course i do." he states simply, his voice now more solemn than angry.

"then trust me when i say i trust harry," you say. draco winces at your statement. "i know there's complicated feelings there but i love you, dray, and i want to be honest about who i'm spending my time with," you level with draco, taking a step towards him.

he glances towards harry, a look of disdain still lingering in his eyes, but looks at you with an apologetic look. "you should've been honest from the beginning," he insists.

you sigh. "i know. i'm sorry. i felt terrible lying to you. you have to understand it was killing me, dray…" your voice breaks again as you try to compose yourself. "but you know how i've felt for a long time."

harry can't decipher the tone in your last statement, but you say it so convincingly he breaks his stare from draco to look down at you, tear-stained cheeks and, still, your eyes are so beautiful to harry. he looks back at draco, who's watching him in disgust before looking back at you lovingly.

draco's analyzing your expression as his body relaxes. he sighs again, bringing you in for a hug.

harry steps to the side awkwardly as you and draco hug for a moment. you're still sniffling by the time he pulls away, wiping your cheeks with a gentle thumb. harry watches closely. it's so strange to see draco this soft in his presence. not even harry could get in the way of draco's clear dedication to you as more than a brother, but as a protector.

for a moment, harry saw a side of draco he knew existed but never fully realized was so strong.

"i know, [y/n/n]. it's okay. i'm sorry." draco tells you softly, his hands still holding your cheeks. you smile, tearfully, putting your hands on his before holding them in front of you. draco takes them back, fixing his shirt before looking at harry with a blank expression.

harry stays quiet. there's a lot he wants to say, but he waits for draco to break the silence.

"as for you, potter…" draco says, his voice less angry than before but still contained. harry looks at him expectedly. he's easily taller than draco now, and practices for quidditch way more than draco does anymore, so harry definitely has some muscle on him. if he were to ever try anything, harry wasn't afraid.

draco takes a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking. "while my beautiful sister is putting it lightly, my feelings towards you are more than complicated," he spits out, the anger seeping through before he breaks his stare and controls himself. "but," he says, a softness in his voice.

"she's a smart girl, and i trust that she's not making a mistake spending her time with you." draco looks at you with a hint of a smile before looking back at harry with a stoic expression. "and while i may not like it, we're adults now, and i'm no longer a threat to you," draco says simply before his face sours. "unless you so much as upset her just once, i swear to merlin potter–""draco." you interrupt his rage harshly, your eyes cold as ice as you caught his gaze.

harry smirks, but wipes it away so as to not make the situation worse. draco lets out an annoyed huff before apologizing to you curtly.

"well, best be on my way then, don't want to interrupt you two," draco says with a sneer, turning to the door. "i'll still see you for dinner tonight, right?" you ask eagerly, following and opening the door for draco. he nods. "of course," he says simply, leaning in to give you a gentle kiss on top of your head. with another dirty look at harry, draco turns and leaves silently.

you close the door with a shaky sigh, and harry's immediately coming to your side to comfort you. "[y/n], i'm so sorry that happened how it did. i never wanted to cause issues with you and draco," he explains, his hand instinctively reaching for your back to rub it comfortingly.

you're still collecting yourself, facing the door, turned away from harry as you sniffle and wipe your eyes. "it's okay," you say in a broken voice.

harry's heart aches at the sound. all he wants is to comfort you, hold you close, tell you it's okay to cry with him…

but he doesn't, because he knows he shouldn't.

"it's not okay, look how upset you are," harry says, bending down slightly to your height. "look, i wouldn't be upset if you told me you didn't want to see me anymore. your relationship with draco is important to you, and the last thing i want to do is complicate it," harry tells you softly.

you snap your head at him with a concerned look, eyes red from crying. "wh-what? no, i…don't say that," you stutter over yourself. you take a step towards harry, only a few inches apart at this point.

"harry, i want you in my life. even if draco didn't understand i would still…" you trail off, your eyes starting to water again as you blink the tears away. "i want you, harry," you say, your voice trembling with fear.

harry's mind is spinning hearing you say this. he's looking down at you, so close to him, so vulnerable, willing to lose what's closest to you just for him. you're so beautiful, so full of light, and so much more complex than he ever imagined. he's never felt so many feelings about one person so intensely all at once.

the only thing he knows, the only thing he can rely on, is that he wants you too.

harry's lost in your eyes for several seconds before he can respond. "i want you in my life, too," he says just above a whisper.

you smile, still a bit sad, but you seem fulfilled with his answer. stepping back and towards your bed, still wiping your eyes, you chuckle half-heartedly to yourself. "didn't think you'd see me cry so easily," you say, a little embarrassed as you shake your head. "i tried to fight it, but…" you continued laughing to yourself.

harry followed you, still giving you your space. he watched as you sat down on your bed with a sigh, your body still shaking from the rush. "it's okay to cry," he says, holding himself back from what he really wants to say. "i'm just sorry it happened this way,"

you give harry a half smile before looking away nervously. "he was going to figure it out soon, anyways. i've been spending more and more time 'studying with the girls' than i ever have, and he was getting suspicious," you tell him, shaking your head again.

harry chuckles to himself. he found it sweet that you made excuses to spend time with him, even if it meant sacrificing time with draco. he felt special, he couldn't lie. "so, i'm one of the girls now?" harry teases, crossing his arms with a smirk. you roll your eyes, holding in a giggle. "shut up," you whine, your cheeks going red. "it was the only thing i could come up with, okay?"

"no, no, it's funny," harry says with a shrug. you still give him a look, but reach for your textbook you left at the end of the bed. "whatever. can you just help me now?" you ask, still holding back a laugh with a suppressed smile.

harry just laughs and agrees, joining the bed next to you as he attempts to help you with the assignment. soon it was like draco was never there, and you were back to laughing, joking, sitting in comfortable silence together until you had to leave for dinner.

with a quick hug and a lingering goodbye, you separated down the hall from each other. harry thought about you the entire way to his room, and for the rest of the night by himself. it's not like harry never thought about you, of course, he certainly did more than he thought he should, but tonight was just different. he thought about what you said to draco, how you defended him so quickly, how you put yourself on the line to ask for draco's trust in that moment. it was like watching you turn your back on your family all over again.

harry had to admit he felt guilty. he's really grown to care about you since getting closer with you, and he hates to think he's constantly going to get in the way of your relationship with your family like he has already. just by being his friend you're already putting so much at risk, he'd hate to think about what would happen if things ever went further…

harry really has stop having these thoughts about you. he's just your friend, and he doesn't even know how he feels about you. sure, his feelings aren't complicated with anger or hatred anymore, but if anything they're even more confusing now. harry knew this would happen, that's why he built that wall between you and him in the first place. some part of him just knew one day you would be trouble.

but now, on the other side of that wall, harry was ready for the trouble. he was going to take it head on.

he didn't care what draco thought, or your parents, or anyone else, not even himself. all he cared about was that you made him happy, and he seemed to have the same affect on you. as long as harry focused on that, the rest was just noise.

a few months later the snow was melting, the school year was wrapping up, and you and harry were still going strong. as friends, anyway.

things became a lot more natural between you and harry after draco walked in on you two that day. you no longer felt the need to hide your time spent with harry. you were bringing him everywhere and he was doing the same with you. you got along perfectly with ron and hermione despite their hesitations at first, even becoming especially close to hermione with all of your similar interests and beliefs.

harry eventually met your friends too and got along with them just as well. soon you were together pretty much every day studying with friends, playing quidditch for fun, or going to diagon alley to window shop. harry more than enjoyed his time spent with you, and felt empty on the days he couldn't manage to see you for even a moment. you were so full of light you just made everything better, and harry couldn't get enough of it.

in fact, it was over this time that harry started to figure out that maybe what he was feeling towards you was more than just complicated guilt. maybe he didn't just really care about you, or find you really pretty, or really wanted to hold you when you were sad or scared; maybe, just maybe, he was starting to really like the malfoy sister.

this came as no surprise to him once he figured it out, really. since the literal first minute he saw you at just 12 years old he knew you were special. he was mesmerized from the moment you entered his life. even through every crush and short-lived girlfriend he's had these past few years, you were always more interesting to him.

it took a long time for harry to come around to his own feelings and emotions. he's simply never had the time to truly work out why he feels what he feels, or what causes certain sensations in his body. all he knew was that your eyes made his heart ache in a way that nobody else's did. not because he hates you, but, really, quite the opposite, actually.

even if he came to terms with his growing feelings for you, he tried to not let them get in the way of your friendship together. you were constantly thanking harry for dedicating his time to you, for spending long nights just talking with you, for helping you in every way he possibly could. he knew how much you valued your friendship with him, and so did he, so he pushed those other feelings to the side and tried to keep things friendly between you two.

however, it was getting to a point where harry could barely spend more than a few minutes thinking about anything outside of you. he brought you up constantly when you weren't around, everything reminded him of you, his entire mind was stained with you and it was starting to have an effect. ron and hermione had teased him for being so lovesick for a malfoy, which he shrugged off. he knew you were different, you weren't just a malfoy, you were entirely your own. he'd never met someone like you, you made him feel things he didn't even know were possible.

soon harry knew his feelings would grow to the point that they would begin interfering with how he acted with you. you already made him nervous just by being so pretty and comfortable around him, constantly making jokes and teasing him in a friendly way that just made harry feel so giddy inside. he knew soon his thoughts of you would start to get in the way of how he looked at you, how he talked to you, and it scared him. harry couldn't lose you now, you'd very quickly become an important part of his life that made him feel complete. his silly crush could never matter as much as his friendship with you.

there was a dinner being held for the last year students this weekend, and harry was trying to figure out a casual way to ask you to go with him so it felt friendly. he didn't want to be too casual and make you think he was asking as a last minute effort, but he also didn't want to be too formal and make you think he'd been thinking about this date for months. which, in reality, he had, and it was stressing him out.

harry finally figured he would just ask you like he'd ask you to do anything else with him, but he also wanted to wait for the right moment. however, he was running out of time, and you had been unexpectedly busy this past week so he's barely seen you. it's only a few days until then, and he still hasn't even found a formal outfit to wear, because he might not even go if you're not beside him.

luckily, harry had planned a time to meet with you tonight to 'study', which, again, usually involved you two sitting with open books as you chat about everything except class.

harry was on his way to the slytherin common room, a pep in his step as he tried to encourage himself to ask you without fear of rejection or judgment. it's just you, he knows you'll be kind either way, but he really wants you to say yes and he's not sure how he'll react to any other answer.

upon entering, you're already sitting and waiting for him on the sofa. slumped into the curve of the cushions, your nose buried in a book as your head is held up with a throw pillow. harry thinks you look so precious, all curled up with a book, it's tough for him to break you out of your daze.

but harry clears his throat, and you jump a little before smiling at him. "harryyy," you call out, closing your book as you throw your arms up for a hug.

harry comes over and leans down to give you a half hug. he doesn't realize just how much he's missed you until he catches a whiff of your perfume, and he's practically melting over you once again. everything about you intoxicates him.

"i've missed you, [y/n]," harry says before letting go. he sits across from you on the sofa, setting his bag down on the ground beside his feet. "i've missed you too, sorry things got so crazy," you laugh.

harry waves his hand at you. "don't worry about it. i'm just glad you were free tonight," he says, admiring you in the light of the fireplace. you just get more beautiful with time. something about you tonight is different, maybe it's your hair, maybe it's your comfy clothes, but harry's completely captivated by you in this moment.

you catch up with each other briefly, with harry mostly happily listening to you describe all the time you've spent with friends recently and the projects you've been working on for classes. he loves to listen to you tell stories, he just finds you so funny and endearing and could listen to you laugh all day if you'd let him.

after a while, harry builds the courage to bring up the dinner this weekend. he's just about to open his mouth when someone comes down the stairs into the common room.

draco, of course.

his icy stare lands on harry, and his face naturally twists in disgust. he looks at you, and the disgust drops to a neutral expressions. "[y/n]. potter." he says simply.

"hey, dray, where are you off to?" you ask, your eyes gesturing to his bag. draco shrugs, his eyes returning to harry with disdain. "just going out for a bit. need new shoes for dinner this saturday." he says, making his way to the door as he adjusts his over-the-shoulder bag.

"oh, shit, i forgot that's this weekend. do you have your suit?" you ask, your face dropping in concern. "i've got it. i'll see you later, okay?" draco says curtly as he opens the door. "okay," you say with a smile, waving as he leaves.

harry was suddenly hit with a realization he hadn't thought of before. of course. he felt so stupid not even considering it. what if you were already going with draco? he's your brother, and practically your best friend, of course you'd have to go with him.

harry tried not to think about draco much anymore, so it must've slipped his mind. he's seen him a few times since that day in your room when he found out you two were friends. mostly in passing, like what just happened, or in an awkward exchange as you went from hanging out with draco to spending time with harry like some strange divorced parent agreement.

other than that, draco was just your brother to harry, and though you brought him up a number of times, he was mostly a topic to avoid. so, harry forgot, and now he's even more nervous to ask you if you'd rather go to dinner with him this weekend.

"it's crazy draco's going to his last year dinner already…" you interrupt harry's thoughts, your voice trailing off. harry looks at you, and you're lost in thought. you look at him and smirk, reaching to push his shoulder. "and so are you! damn, you're old," you joke, trying to hide your laugh.

harry rolls his eyes, but you manage to get a laugh out of him. "have you asked someone yet? draco's taking that greengrass girl i believe, or at least he wanted to if he hasn't already chickened out," you say, still laughing.

harry can breathe a sigh of relief. he's not sure what he would've done if you were already going with draco. he had been trying to plan the perfect night since christmas.

"uh, actually, since you've already asked, i was hoping that you'd maybe like to join me?" harry asks, his eyes nervously shifting away from yours.

"oh," you say, clearly taken aback. harry's gaze meet yours again, and he's instantly sweating at your reaction. "unless, y'know, you don't want to, or…i'm sure someone's asked you already," harry interjects, trying to laugh it off entirely.

you're watching harry closely, your cheeks slowly turning red. "um, no, actually, no one's asked, and…i would love to go with you, i just…" you trail off again, your eyes still wide with surprise.

harry prepares himself for rejection. he knows there's a number of reasons you'd say no, and draco's at the top of the list.

"frankly, i have nothing to wear," you say, a bit embarrassed as your blush only deepens. harry breathes yet another sigh of relief. you always manage to put him through so many emotions and you don't even realize it.

"you could be wearing a paper bag and i'd just be glad you're standing next to me," harry tells you with a laugh. you drop your head, clearly flustered.

when you look up at harry, you have a shy smile pinching your cheeks. he thinks you look so adorable, knees to your chest, completely flushed, giggling like a nervous school girl. "well, then, i'd love to go with you, harry. but no paper bag. maybe after dinner." you tease him.

harry laughs with you, but part of him wonders if you're flirting with him a bit.

the rest of the night was spent joking, laughing, and enjoying the warmth of the fire together. before harry left, you thanked him for asking you, even if it was such short notice you'd have to spend all day shopping tomorrow. "don't feel pressured, i'm sure you'd look beautiful in whatever you already have," harry had told you, eager to get a blush out of you again.

when you did, harry smiled proudly and gave you a warm hug goodbye. he was practically skipping back to his room to tell ron he'd finally asked you, and that you'd actually said yes. ron was happy for harry, teasing him for taking so long, but nothing could bring harry down. even if he just meant it as being friendly, as he's sure you did as well, this was still a date in his mind.

and, shit, he still needed an outfit.

the night of the dinner, harry waited patiently outside the dining hall doors with his gift for you in hand. there was a soft mumbling coming from the dining hall as people began gathering, speaking to each other, and listening to the small band playing instrumental music. however, all harry can hear is his blood pumping through his ears as he nervously waits to see you for the first time tonight.

harry went for a simple suit, all black, nothing too showy or special as he wasn't sure what you were wearing. he actually hadn't been able to speak with you since the night he asked you to come with him, only agreeing to meet you right here just before he'd left the slytherin common room. his heart was pounding, and he felt like a young teen again, waiting for his crush to come around the corner. but he wasn't a kid anymore, and you were so much more than just a first year crush. you were everything.

harry hears someone walking up behind him, and as he turns, he's instantly drawn to you. walking arm in arm with draco, also dressed in all black, you're wearing a dark green dress that fits you perfectly, hugging your waist and hips like it was tailor fit. it's floor-length, with an off-the-shoulder neckline, and your hair is twisted up into a curly, elegant bun, with multiple curls hanging out for a casual look.

your outfit and hair are nothing, however, in comparison to just how beautiful your smile is.

harry's absolutely captivated by you. he knew you'd look beautiful, like he said, you could make a paper bag work, but he didn't think it was possible for a single person to be so striking. he was sure he looked like a complete fool, jaw slack open as he stared into your beautiful eyes from down the hall, but he truly couldn't help himself. you were everything.

"[y/n]," he manages to say once you're closer. "you look incredible," he says, his eyes never leaving yours. you smile, turning towards draco with a growing blush.

harry looks at draco, who's already staring at him with a tight jaw and narrowed eyes.

"draco," harry greets him, trying to be courteous. "potter," draco spits out, seeing through him.

you slightly roll your eyes, motioning for draco to go into the dining hall without you. "i'm sure daphne's waiting for you," you tease him with a smirk, pushing him along. draco gives harry a dirty look the entire time he passes him, and even until he's left the hall.

harry can't bring himself to care. all he can think about right now is you.

he's so mesmerized by you he forgets he has something in his hands, nearly dropping the slim box before gripping it tightly again, clearing his throat to break his focus.

"what's that?" you ask, looking at the simple black box in harry's grasp. harry can hear the smirk in your voice, knowing it's for you.

"i-i don't know, guess you'll have to open it to see," he says, handing it over to you. you scoff at him, still smirking as you accept the gift.

upon opening it, you gasp. a beautiful necklace with green gemstones that match your dress perfectly. "harry…" you gasped, staring at the jewelry in your hands. "it's beautiful…and, my dress, how did you know?" you ask in disbelief. harry just chuckles. "you have green everything, my little slytherin," he reminds you.

you blush again, handing harry the necklace. "put it on me?" you ask, turning around and holding up the curls that might be in his way.

harry nervously unclasped the necklace and put it on you, taking extra care to let his hands graze across the skin of your neck more times than what was necessary.

as you turn around, harry's heart races. it's perfect. it matches your dress, it looks amazing on your skin, and it pulls your entire look together. it draws the perfect amount of attention to your beautiful shoulders and collarbones. harry was extra proud of himself for this one.

looking down at it, you touch the necklace carefully, admiring it. "i spent forever looking for a necklace for tonight, and i couldn't find one i liked, but…it's perfect, harry, thank you," you say, throwing your hands around harry's neck as you embrace him tightly. harry smiles, his heart still racing as he pulls you in close. "thank you for coming with me tonight. i didn't want to come at all if it wasn't with you." he tells you, placing a soft kiss on your head just in front of your curly bun. you give him a shy smile before pulling him to the dining room.

it was an incredible night together. ron and hermione had quickly found you both, and hermione was gushing over how good you looked the entire time. ron was watching her with so much love in his eyes it made harry a little sick, but he was happy for his friends. he gave ron a knowing look, which ron just shook his head at and escorted himself and hermione away to get drinks.

as you and harry made your rounds around the room, meeting up with friends and stopping to say hello to professors, harry noticed just how many people were watching you and whispering amongst themselves. you two had spent plenty of time together this year, so it wasn't necessarily a shock to see the boy who lived hanging out with the malfoy sister anymore, but people were seemingly still stunned by the fact that you came with him tonight, and that you looked as good as you did.

after a while of mingling, harry caught draco's stare from across the room. his arm was entwined with his date's, but his full attention was on you and harry. he rolled his eyes at harry and walked away, pulling his date with him. harry shrugged him off and his attention turned back to you.

beautiful, perfect, effortless you.

your arm was wrapped around his in the same way, as it had been all night. harry expected himself to be incredibly nervous and awkward tonight seeing you so dolled up to be his date, as a friend, of course. but he was surprised at how natural everything felt with you. it always had, nothing ever felt forced between you two, conversation and smiles seemed to just flow naturally without either of you trying. it just made sense to harry, being with you, holding you close to him, being together in front of everyone. it was all he'd wanted for so long.

sitting down to eat dinner, you quickly made conversation with hermione and ron as harry took the seat to your left, admiring you as you laughed with hermione over something he hadn't heard. you just looked so beautiful tonight under these candlelights, in the necklace harry picked out for you, the jewels falling just above the curve of your breasts spilling from your dark dress.

as you leaned forward to whisper something to hermione, harry got the perfect view of your chest from his seat, his eyes lingering for a moment too long before ron noticed and started snickering at him.

harry gave ron a look, kicking his foot under the table.

once dinner is served, the hall quiets as everyone enjoys their plates and drinks. some small talk is shared between bites, multiple glasses are drunk amongst you, ron, harry, and hermione, and the laughter continues throughout dinner.

before dessert comes, you and hermione take a short trip to the bathroom, leaving harry with ron. they laugh once they're alone, out of habit.

"i know i give you a hard time, but really, harry, i think [y/n]'s good for you. i haven't seen you this smitten in a long time, not since you dated my sister," ron teases, taking a sip of his drink as he chuckles to himself.

harry gives him a look, but can't help the smile growing on his face. "thanks, ron. but we're just here as friends. not like you and hermione," harry tries to turn the teasing back to ron, cocking his eyebrow with a knowing smile.

ron rolls his eyes. "please, at least i can say she's my girlfriend. you don't wanna be friends with [y/n] and you know it," ron responds, not giving in.

harry stays quiet.

as you and hermione return, giggling from across the table, you put a hand on harry's neck down to his shoulder to steady yourself as you sat in your dress.

harry got the shivers, but gave you a friendly smile as you met his eyes. you took back your hand, smiling at him in return.

while eating dessert, harry can feel draco staring at him again from somewhere in the room, but he can't bring himself to care enough to find his gaze. if draco wants to watch harry enjoy his date with draco's beautiful sister, he can spend all night watching for all that harry cares.

harry's thoughts are interrupted as he hears you let out a soft moan beside him. your spoon is left in your mouth as you pull it out slowly, your eyes closed delicately. harry watches discreetly, not wanting to draw ron and hermione's attention from their own conversation, but he's enamored with the way you let the spoon leave your lips, enjoying the dessert in front of you.

"so yummy," you say happily, your eyes rolling over to harry. he turns to look at you fully with a chuckle. "yes, very yummy," he teases you.

you narrow your eyes at him. "you're yummy," you tell him, laughing. harry's stunned before you continue. "i didn't even get to tell you, but you do look really good tonight, harry. you clean up well." you say softly, your words just for him.

harry's still a bit stunned, but tried to not let his nerves get in the way. "well, thank you, [y/n]. and, i never got to tell you as much as i should have tonight, but, you just…amaze me with how stunning you are," harry sighs, not caring how lovesick he looks as he continues to admire you, a true work of art sitting right beside him.

you chuckle, taking your bottom lip in your mouth. harry memorizes every detail of you, never wanting to forget how lucky he is to have you beside him tonight.

"thank you, harry. it was a bit difficult for me, all this, just reminds me of home…" you say, gesturing to the grand dinner party going on around you. harry gives you a sympathetic look and a reassuring hand on your knee. you look at him, your eyes sending more shivers down harry's spine.

"we can leave whenever you're ready," harry tells you with a soft smile and lingering gaze. "you just say the word and we'll go 'study' in pajamas," he's only half joking.

you laugh at him again, but harry believes it's full of love. "there's nowhere i'd rather be," you assure him, putting your own hand on his knee.

harry blushes like crazy at the contact, but just laughs you off again.

after dessert the band starts playing more upbeat music, and the floor is cleared towards the front of the room for people to dance. you pull harry to the floor, along with a number of other couples, and start dancing with him. harry's not a very skilled dancer, so he just follows your lead and has fun moving around with you randomly, letting himself be free as the music and other people dancing relaxes his nerves.

after a while of dancing separately, you grab harry's hand and begin dancing closer to him, still laughing and smiling as you twirl yourself around, making him laugh as well. harry starts playfully moving with you, bringing you closer to him and further away, again and again until you're a giggling mess in his arms, practically falling all over him.

just as harry's enjoying the feeling of you in his arms, draco comes out of nowhere just beside him. "[y/n]," he snaps, trying to contain himself.

you look at draco, your smile fading at his irritated expression. "i'm leaving, just thought you should know." his words bitter, examining you entwined in harry's arms.

"draco," you start to say, but he's already making his way around you to the back door. you try to go after him instinctually, but harry pulls you back. "stay here, i'll talk to him," he says, surprising both you and himself as you turn to look at him. hermione comes up beside harry, watching the interaction from afar.

"harry…" you warn him. but harry gives you a reassuring squeeze of the hand, already heading for the door himself. "trust me?" he says, letting you go and turning away as hermione grabs your hand instead and begins asking what happened.

as harry enters the hallway, he sees draco's turned back heading away from the dining hall.

"draco," harry calls out, causing draco to stop in his tracks.

he turns to harry, an odd look on his face before he scoffs. "did she really send you to try and talk to me, or are you just dumber than i originally thought?" draco responds, shoving his hand in his pocket.

"no, i came to talk to you. i'm tired of this, draco. can't you just let [y/n] and i be friends?" harry asks, trying to contain his own anger.

draco only rolls his eyes harder, making his way towards harry with an angry step. "oh, please, potter, you're not fooling anyone. and, frankly, neither is she anymore." draco retorts, stopping a few feet away from harry with a nod to the dining hall doors.

harry's confused at his statement, and draco can tell just from the look on his face, which only makes him angrier. "you're clearly shagging my sister. and to top it all off, you made her your little date for the night in front of everyone here. and, honestly, you should be kissing the ground i walk on for letting you even so much as look at her, you fucking pig." draco's words are dripping venom, clearly having the words ready to spew in harry's face.

harry is dumbfounded, and actually outwardly laughs at draco's statement. draco takes another step towards harry, visibly turning red with anger. "don't make me fucking kill you, i'd hate to hurt my sister's feelings like that."

harry just continues to chuckle, his arms crossing. "well, as flattered as i am that you think she'd shag me, we're just friends. really." harry informs him, a smirk on his face.

draco looks at him confused, his expression falling for only a moment before returning. "well then, you still clearly like her. and you're not very good at hiding it, either." he says, his voice faltering as he steps back.

harry can't disagree with him there. as much as he hates draco, he's not going to lie to him and say he doesn't have feelings for his sister when he knows he does. it's just not right.

"and so what if i do, huh? it's our last month of classes, malfoy. after this you'll never hear her talk about me again. is that what you want? because that's what's going to happen." harry says, his anger seeping through again as he admits what he believes to be true.

draco is in even more disbelief than before. he just looks at harry like he's joking. "are you being serious or are you trying to fuck with me?" he asks, examining harry from head to toe.

harry's even more confused. "what?"

draco turns away, chuckling to himself in both disbelief and anger. "i was right, you are dumber than i thought," he starts out, giving harry a look before turning away again. harry's hands ball into fists before he releases them, letting out an angry huff.

"[y/n]'s clearly all over you, spending all her time with you, you're all she ever bloody talks about anymore, fucking hell i thought you were shagging her, for god's sake," draco rants, his back still turned to harry. "she's been obsessed with you since we were kids. all she ever asked me, 'what's harry like, draco? is harry potter really that brave, draco?' blah blah blah," draco mocks you in a high pitched voice.

"and just when i thought she had found some sense in her and loathed you along with me for a few years, you trapped her again with your fucking namesake and…god knows what else she sees in you," draco sneers back at harry, turning to him once again.

"so yeah, excuse me while i watch my baby sister, my only solace in this lifetime, practically throw herself all over you at this pathetic party," draco gestures back to the room, his eyes cold as ice as he continues staring through harry.

harry's stunned by draco's outburst, but is more stunned that he thinks you may like harry back.

they stand there for a moment, examining each other, draco breathing heavily and unevenly as he tries to regain his composure.

harry's not sure exactly what he should say to him in this moment, so he just speaks the truth, the only thing he knows. "i care about [y/n], draco,"

draco rolls his eyes for another time. "no, really, draco. i do, and i have this whole time. i don't know if she feels the same, but, quite honestly, i don't care. all i know is that she makes me happy, and i hope i can do the same for her. that's all." harry tells draco, his eyes searching for a response.

draco just watches harry for a moment, his expression unreadable as he finds the words to respond.

he sighs, his body language completely shifting as he turns away from harry, his hand covering his face in distress. "you're an idiot if you think she doesn't. she turned her back on us, on me, because she was fighting for you. she was never like my parents." draco says softly, his anger fading.

"she was fighting for what was right." harry reminds him, making draco laugh sarcastically as he moves on.

"you know, she's the only thing i care about. the only person i not only tolerate, but actually love." draco says even softer before turning to scowl at harry again. "when she chose you that day, i wasn't surprised. i wasn't even mad. [y/n]'s always been that way. it's part of the reason why i keep her so close to me." draco's words are the nicest they've been directed at harry all night.

"now i know you wouldn't understand family love, potter," draco smirks, causing harry to bite his tongue. "but that girl is everything to me. when she trusts you, when she believes in you, when she turned her back to me in hopes i could see what she sees in you…" draco trails off a bit before turning away again.

"i know she's right."

harry's more than shocked at draco's words. he can barely process his sentiment before draco continues talking, making his way down the hall.

"so, again, i may not like it, but i'll try to be civil. if you, just, please, potter," draco turns one last time, a slight smirk on his face. "for my sake. just ask the damn girl on a date so she'll shut the hell up about it."

with that, draco's gone and around the corner, out of harry's sight.

harry's left alone with his thoughts, the muffled music from the dining hall filling the air around him.

he can hardly comprehend what draco's just told him, both about you and about his belief in harry. but mostly when it comes to you.

you. alone in the dining hall.

just as harry turns, you're opening the door, your sweet face twisted with worry as you search the halls behind him. "where's draco?" you ask urgently, making your way out of the doorway as it closes behind you.

harry's hands go to your shoulders, and you look at him. he smiles down at you, his mind spinning as he examines your beautiful face still pointed with concern.

"he's fine. we talked."

you give harry another shocked look like earlier, your mouth slightly open. "you and draco?" you ask in disbelief.

harry just chuckles at you, looking you up and down again to fully appreciate just how good you looked in front of him. "have i told you how beautiful you look tonight?" harry asks, his eyes still wandering. knowing you seem to like him as well, harry takes this opportunity to test the waters with you.

you instantly blush, but you give harry a knowing look. "yes, harry. now, what did you talk about?" you ask suspiciously.

harry, again, just chuckles, pulling you to his side as he turns to the hall. "let's get out of here, hm?" he asks, already leading you away.

"oh, but, hermione and ron?" you ask suddenly, gesturing back to the party. harry shakes his head. "they won't mind."

you're a bit confused as harry continues to lead you towards the gryffindor common room, but he distracts you with plenty of compliments and questions asking if you enjoyed yourself tonight.

harry then leads you to his room where his nerves finally hit him. he had been confident until now, but it was make or break time. if draco was right and you did actually like harry, he was finally ready to make his move.

what that move was exactly, he's not sure.

but again, things with you are so natural, and once you close the door, it only feels right for harry to come up to you against the doorway. he smiles down at you, a nervous, blushing, beautiful angel just within his grasp.

without thinking, harry's mouth does the talking for him.

"[y/n]," he starts, his heart racing as you look up at him innocently. "can i kiss you?"

you're clearly shocked by his question, but don't miss the chance to eagerly nod your head, already leaning towards harry. he smiles, gently pushing you against the door as his lips finally lock with yours.

the kiss is urgent, needy, but full of longing and love. your hands find their way to harry's neck instantly, and his continue to linger against your shoulders. your body arches into his, clearly already wanting more just from a short kiss.

harry isn't stopping anytime soon though, as he's thought of this moment longer than he's planned to ask you to dinner tonight.

he savors everything about your kiss. your enchanting smell, the softness of your lips, the moans rumbling from the back of your throat; all of it is driving him crazy, but he's insistent on enjoying the moment for what it simply was. a kiss he's wanted so long from a beautiful girl he thought he could never have.

however, you're not as keen on savoring anything as you only become more desperate under harry's lips. your tongue is quickly involved, though harry's not complaining as you explore his mouth with hunger.

he's a bit flustered at your boldness, but isn't afraid of it. if anything harry only enjoys seeing you quickly submit to your desire for him. he wasn't sure how this would go, but clearly you've wanted this as badly as he has, if not even worse.

his hands finally begin to wander as he traces your collarbones lightly, his fingers running over the jewels of the necklace he bought you. "look so pretty in my gift," harry tells you between kissing you. you moan in response, your hips finding harry's as you only bring him closer to you.

before long you're dragging harry to his bed, his hands falling from your shoulders to your waist and down to your hips.

you sit on his bed, and your hand instantly lands on harry's belt, lingering fingers on the cold metal. harry just looks at you in shock. he didn't expect you to initiate anything like this so quickly.

"u-uh…" is all he can say with you looking up at him like that, your eyes already drooping so seductively as you messed with his buckle innocently.

"please?" you taunt him, your finger making its way down his semi erected cock under his slacks.

harry sighs. he wants to, he really wants to, but he wonders if it's too much all at once for you. he doesn't want you to think this is all he was looking for.

"[y/n]...i, i really like you…you don't have to–""i like you too, harry," you interrupt him, a sweet smile on your bitten lips. "i want this. so bad. please. you don't have to, but…" you practically beg, your fingers still toying with the latch of the belt as you bring your pouted lips closer to it.

harry sighs again, his hand stroking your hair as he admires you from above. so pretty, so innocent. it's like you wanted him to ruin all of that.

"i want to, but, you don't have to," harry reminds you, his cheeks starting to turn red. you giggle, and it only makes harry even more turned on. "i want to, but, you don't have to," you mock him, slowly unbuckling his belt and slacks.

harry chuckles nervously, watching you intently. he really does want to, and as long as you want to as well, who's he to deny you of what you both want?

soon your mouth is wrapped around the tip of his cock through his briefs, your warm tongue laid flat across the head as you continue watching harry's expression through your eyelashes.

his head is rolling back in pleasure already, his erection only getting more uncomfortable as it hardens in response to you.

you help him take his underwear off, and your lips reattach to the head of his cock, your tongue licking his precum. he's watching you with a lax jaw, his eyebrows furrowed as you continue running your tongue in circles around the sensitive tip.

he's already in pure bliss, his hand finding your hair again as he continues to admire you. even when you're in such a filthy position below him, you still look so soft and beautiful.

from this angle he has the perfect view of your breasts, and you notice his eyes flickering from your own down to your chest. pulling your lips off of harry, you pull down the neckline of your dress and let your tits pop out of the restricting fabric.

harry can hardly believe the sight he's witnessing in front of him.

before he can try to process just how incredibly sexy you look with your elegant dress pulled down below your tits, your mouth returned to his throbbing cock, along with your hands. you start to bring more of him into your mouth, using your hands to stroke him slowly. harry was practically thrusting into your hands and mouth at that point, desperate for relief.

you can see how worked up harry's getting, so you stop, much to his disappointment. you have harry lay on his bed as you make a show taking your dress the rest of the way off along with your shoes and stockings. once you're left only in your panties, you get back on top of harry to kiss him again.

"so fucking beautiful, darling," harry growls into your lips, his hands grabbing for your tits. you giggle, your hands going to harry's button up as you start to take it off of him.

once it comes off, you pull harry back into the kiss. his hand travel down to your hips as you start grinding against his throbbing cock. "baby, please," he pleads, the teasing becoming too much.

you giggle again, sliding your panties off carefully with harry's help. he also helps you line yourself up with him as you slowly lower yourself onto harry's cock.

your eyes roll in pleasure, a slight whimper of discomfort escaping your lips as harry's hand goes to your face, comforting you. "slow, my love," he reminds you, guiding your hips with his other hand.

once you're starting to moan in pleasure, your speed increases, your eyes locking with harry's as you already feel pressure begin to build inside you.

just looking at him makes you whimper pathetically. "god, harry, i've wanted this for so long," you tell him, leaning down for another kiss as you readjust your position on top of him.

harry's hands trace the curves of your body as you continue riding him, his thoughts incoherent as the pleasure rises by the second. your heavy breathing into his ear and beautiful body against his in the lowlight of his room is everything he's ever wanted.

"wanted you so bad, [y/n]," harry moans as you sit back up, your tits bouncing as you grind down into harry's cock.

he admires your body, your perfect curves, your insane hips, and he's even more turned on. you're already truly perfect in every way, but you have the most phenomenal body harry's ever witnessed to top it all off.

"you're perfect," he tells you, his hands gripping for your hips and ass. you giggle, your hand covering your flustered smile as you continue whimpering and whining, riding him into your own oblivion.

"h-harry…" your voice is so broken it only makes harry hungrier, his hips thrusting upwards slightly into you to relieve the tension. "fuck," he cries, his eyes going dark just watching you fall apart for him.

"harry…please…" you lean back down, your lips grazing his ear as you made your request. "cum inside me?"

harry's in disbelief, he pulls you back to see if you're joking, but you're only looking at him hopefully through hooded eyes, still riding his cock in perfect rhythm.

"are you crazy, [y/n]?" he asks with a laugh, his eyes searching yours for any sign of sarcasm, his stomach still tightening in overwhelming pleasure.

"yes. for you." you tell him seriously, your pace quickening on top of him, your tits bouncing against harry's chest. he winces from the rush of pleasure.

"f-fuck, [y/n]," he utters, barely able to hold himself bsck.

you moan, your hands grabbing harry's as you pin them down beside him. "mm, keep moaning my name like that, harry, you're gonna make me cum already…" you tell him, your face resting against his.

harry moans your name repeatedly, only getting more and more desperate as you pleasure yourself using his cock. he was almost completely lost in the moment before you squealed, your hands squeezing harry's as you tightened around his cock, your hips stuttering as you ride out your high, breathing heavily.

harry's overwhelmed with the feeling and sight of you orgasming on him, your face twisting as you moan his name in return, filthy sounds escaping your innocent lips. he's getting closer before he remembers what you asked him.

"i'm, [y/n], i'm gonna cum," harry says as you're still moving your hips to satisfy your climax. you moan again, letting your head fall into harry's neck as you continue holding down his hands. your pace quickens again, and harry is a mess under you.

"cum inside me harry, please, give it to me, i'm yours, i want to be all yours, please, please, harry, breed me and make my pussy yours," you have no shame in begging harry, his hips bucking as you only grind against him quicker.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," harry's cursing, slightly in panic. he wants to cum so badly, and the idea of you wanting him to breed you just from the first time you're together makes him even more turned on. part of him is scared, but it only ends up fueling the desire and taboo more as harry finally unloads inside of you, his voice breaking as he continues cursing between heavy breaths.

you're enjoying the moment thoroughly, your pussy quivering as it's filled with harry's warm cum. you go to give him another kiss, and he can barely reciprocate.

you giggle at harry a bit, wincing as you gently pull his cock outside of you. harry groans, but his eyes remained closed, still catching his breath. you offer to help him clean up, and it takes a moment, but he agrees, following you to his bathroom and admiring your naked body in the soft light of the room.

afterwards, harry insists you stay with him for the night as he hands you one of his favorite shirts to sleep in. you accept, laughing at his lovesick attitude already, and climb into bed beside him for the night.

harry can hardly believe he has you in his arms, finally, after being so captivated by you for practically his whole life. he's thankful to have you next to him, smiling as you trace his skin, telling him how much you've liked him this whole time, how you don't care if your parents don't approve, and how much you need him in your life. harry feels at peace with you, his little slytherin, in his bed, the moon the only source of light across your tired face. he truly finds you so beautiful, inside and out.

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withleeknow · 3 months

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letters i didn't send to you.

pairing: ot8 x reader (ot8 in the sense that there's no name mentioned so you can imagine whoever you want. imagine the whole kpop industry if you want lol) genre/warnings: established relationship, long distance relationship au?, angst, fluff if you squint. unedited bc i am insane word count: 0.7k note: trying something new here! dunno how people are gonna like it but i don't feel terrible about it 🤷‍♀️ a product of my emo hours and i needed an outlet and i thought oh hey why not just project this into a fic lol

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

3:29am, i've been dreaming about you for years. stars and moons and cotton candy clouds on fire at sundown. the whole universe resides in your eyes, it's almost unfair. sleepless nights because you're not here; restless days because i can't wait for you to be back. the clock stops ticking when you're not with me. the magnetic pull gets stronger during the witching hour somehow. i've always been drawn to you, even before i knew who you were. you're the only home i'd leave all my haunts for. it's summer solstice in most parts of the world but not in our bedroom, not when the only way i can have you is through a phone screen on your pillow. your voice is trying to lull me to sleep. it doesn't come close to replicating one tenth of your warmth. to love is to endure.

i'm halfway through the day, and you must be dreaming of where you belong, by my side on a bed that's far too big when i'm the only occupant. or at least, i hope you're dreaming of me too. 1:19pm, i'm six hours ahead but days and weeks and months and years behind, still stuck in that airport where you left me for the first time. some days, my eyes get misty at lunch when i think about your alarm going off and your irritated groan as you roll over to make your phone stop screaming. other days, i don't have an appetite at all, not with you on my mind and the reminder that there's still oceans between us. when are you coming home? i know when you're coming home, and yet i ask anyway, as if it'll shorten the distance and make the time pass more quickly. to love is to wait.

saturday morning, but i can't stay in bed past 7:12am. missing you a lot tonight, was what you had sent while i was asleep. that's a little cruel for a good morning text, don't you think? it's not your fault. i blame it on the oceans, on the time, on the distance. the coffee is still brewing, just enough for one steaming mug but it would've been nice if i got to make two. can we go back to new york? we always say we would, but can we do it now? i'll meet you halfway if you let me. there's nothing that ties me to this place. you're always on the move. my home is always on the move. we were happy on that trip, right? my fondest memories of you. skylines and the high line. to love is to risk it all, and i would risk it all for you. take me home, will you? let's go back to new york.

the clock reads 8:18am, but the date is all wrong. you should be landing any minute now, but not for another two days. two more days until you're home, ten days that i get to be in your arms. and yet, all i can think about is your departure, about coming back to an empty apartment after you're gone again. i think about you leaving before you even return. the drive back after i've sent you off, it never hurts less no matter how many times we go through it. i can already picture the scene, it's almost routine at this point. your sparkling eyes when they find me in the crowded airport, your relieved sigh when i run to you, your hands clutching me so tightly like you don't want to let go either. it's always this damn airport. we should stop meeting like this. when the buzzing of my phone snaps me out of it, i know who's on the other end of the notification. a photo of your new polaroid camera, then a promise to make more memories to keep with us when you come back to me.

to love is to willingly weather this with you a million times and more. even if it hurts. maybe especially if it hurts. you're the reason i keep going. you're the reason why the sun rises in the morning. let's talk about new york when you're here.

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 1 year

Text

All Things End

Pairing: Moonknight trio x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: I mean none specifically it's just a generally minorly sad fic lol

Genre: angst & kinda fluff

Summary: Finding out your boyfriend's secret drastically changes the dynamic of your relationship; "And all things end // All that we intend is scrawled in sand // Or slips right through our hands" - Hozier

***

The first time you met Steven was coincidence, a happenstance, courtesy of one of your friends- kind of. They share an apartment building and after visiting her you ran into the anxious history buff in the elevator, or he ran into you. You were already in the elevator, your friend Macy lives on the floor above his, and when it opened for him to get on he walked in without looking up from the papers in his hand and crashed right into you because of course you didn't react quick enough when he came careening in. His papers scattered and he jumped back so far a cat would be jealous.

"Going down?" You asked him lightheartedly, holding the door open button for him.

"Oh bullocks! I- I'm so sorry, I'll take the next one."

"Nonsense, half your papers are in here. Plus it's just me in the elevator. Afraid I'll bite?"

"No!" He shook his head so frantically you'd thought it might fly off.

"Well then get in. We can ride down together and you can pick up whatever it is that had you too enraptured to look up."

"I'm sorry. Again I- I hadn't meant to-" Steven had scrambled to grab his papers as the elevator door closed.

"Hey I get it. When the reading is good it can really take you to another world. No hard feelings." You chuckled. He offered an awkward half laugh in response before silence fell over you.

"Are you new here?" He asked after a moment.

"What?"

"Are you new? In the apartment building, I mean. I don't mean to pry I've just never seen you around before is all."

"Right well that's probably because I don't live here actually, I'm just visiting a friend. She lives above you."

"Oh." He frowned and you couldn't help but tease him a bit at the way he deflated.

"Why? Were you hoping to see me more often?" You winked.

"No!" He'd almost sounded indignant when he answered and then his eyes widened as if he realized what he said only after the fact. "Not- not that I'm opposed to seeing you more often it's just that well- we just met. I have no idea who you are so I can't really say I'm hoping for anything yet. A-again it's not that I'm particularly opposed to seeing you again or anything." He was rambling. You thought it was cute.

"Shame. I'd certainly be happy to catch a glimpse of you next time I'm around." You winked at him as the elevator finally reached the lobby of the building. He'd been too stunned to respond as you got out of the lift. "See you soon 7th floor." You'd tossed over your shoulder as a goodbye and left him to his own devices.

It would be a while before you saw him again, a month or so before you happened to catch him again. This time on your way up. He's coming out of the elevator as you're waiting for it.

"Ah, you're paying attention this time!" You joke.

"Oh! It's you again." He blinks at you. The two of you swap places, him getting out of the elevator while you get in it. You press the button for your friend's floor.

"Yes. Hi, mister 7th floor. Bye, mister 7th floor." You smile as the doors close. When you reach your friend's apartment you can't help but ask her about him.

"What do you know about the other people in your building?" You ask her.

"Ask whatever question you actually want an answer to." Macy chuckles.

"There's a guy who lives on the floor below you. Curly brown hair, olive skin, brown eyes, about this tall I'm guessing but he hunches over, he's super anxious although that could just be me making him nervous." You rattle off descriptors.

"If you're talking about who I think you're talking about no it's not you, he's always that nervous, at least every time I've seen him. I call him squirrely. I dunno much about him though, not even his name actually, he's quiet and minds his business, seems nice though. He's polite at least." Macy shrugs. "Why do you ask?" Her eyes narrow with a curious smirk on her lips.

"I've run into him a couple of times. He's- curious, so I was just gathering intel."

"Gathering intel? Stay away from him y/n you'll break the poor boy." She laughs.

"I'm not gonna break him!"

"Not on purpose but he's not the type you usually go for, I don't think he can handle you."

"Well, he's been holding up as well as he needs to so far." You say.

"Don't tell me you've already taken a liking to him."

"I dunno if I'd go that far yet we've only spoken twice but he is cute." You shrug.

"I mean- try if you must babes." She muses.

And try you did. Eventually. It was slow going before you even decided to head down that road. You ran into him a few more times first with a teasing line or two each time and ultimately after a series of 'see you around 7th floor's he gave you his name and so you asked him to dinner.

Your first date had been expectedly awkward. Steven was so nervous he rambled through most of your meal which, from anyone else would seem so unattractively self-obsessed you'd have blocked them before you even left the restaurant, but from Steven, it was somehow so charming to see him so animated. Maybe because you know it's a nerves thing and not indifference to subjects other than his own interests.

Several dates later Steven, to your surprise, asks you to be his girlfriend. You're still not sure where the confidence to initiate that next step came from, you always thought you'd be the one asking him to go steady if it got that far, which it did but he made the move. It was a bit rushed and awkward in the way Steven usually is but it worked for him.

"Y/n." He'd been walking you home from a date and stopped you at your apartment building before you could go inside.

"Yes, Steven?"

"We've been seeing each other for some time now and well I've really had fun getting to know you and all so I was wondering, I thought that perhaps at this point you'd consider making it official. With me. I mean only if you'd like to it's not necessary. What we've got going on is good too. I'm okay with-"

"Steven you're rambling." You'd had to stop yourself from giggling at his frantic sentences avoiding your eyes.

"Right. I'm just trying to ask... would you like to be my girlfriend?"

"I would love to." You'd smiled at him and kissed him faster than he could process. He was easy to fall in love with. Charming even through his perpetual awkwardness, caring, funny, and one of the smartest people you know. Everything felt, right when it came to him. You didn't have to question things with him. He made things easy, so easy it was strange to even consider that things would go wrong.

When you woke up in his bed this morning and realized he wasn't beside you, it was more than a little strange. First of all, you know he doesn't work today, it was his selling point in turning your date last night into a sleepover. There's no note and the stillness of his apartment makes it obvious he's not in the bathroom or in the kitchen or anywhere. It's still early too. You turn over possibilities in your head as you shuffle to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. Just as you complete those tasks and exit the bathroom having put on your moisturizer, you hear the door to the apartment unlock and swing open.

"You're back." You say.

"Yeah hey." The word sounds- wrong. As though, despite your eyes recognizing the man before you, your ears are hearing a stranger's voice.

"Steven?" You frown and he freezes immediately. It's as if he didn't even realize it was you he spoke to. There's a pause, it's only a moment or two but it feels so tense it might as well have lasted several minutes.

"Hello, love, I didn't know you'd still be here." He smiles awkwardly. Something still sounds off about his voice, the accent feels forced, and his tone is awkward in a way that even for Steven is out of place.

"You didn't know I'd still be here? That's- not exactly the greeting I expected." You scoff, crossing your arms. "Where did you go before 9 A.M. on a Saturday? And what is going on with your voice?" You ask. He's still again. It's like you can see a loading screen on his face before he speaks.

"I- uh well," his head tilts suddenly and he clears his throat. "I've been feeling a bit of an itch in my throat and wanted to slip out for some medication, perhaps surprise you by making breakfast even but it appears I didn't return quick enough. I'm sorry, and good morning by the way my darling." Steven's voice sounds better when he speaks again and he walks over to you to wrap his arms around your waist.

"You didn't mention an itch yesterday." You point out.

"I didn't want it to ruin our evening. No need to worry love it's nothing some tea can't cure." He smiles.

"Well, then I'll make you some tea."

"Nonsense, you're-"

"I'm your girlfriend of almost a year, I think there's no problem with making you tea, even if this is." You chuckle.

"Alright, if you insist. Thank you my darling." He smiles at you. Like I said, he makes things so easy. It would be strange to think something was wrong here. Right? You don't want to press the issue but there's a gnawing in the back of your mind that something is not quite right.

A girlfriend?! You've kept a girlfriend from me all this time?! How the hell did you even pull that off? The voice in Steven's head is angrily yelling at him in the reflection of the bathroom mirror.

"You had a wife once upon a time Marc. I think I'm allowed to date." Steven rolls his eyes, he's whispering though- so as to not alert you of the back and forth.

The problem isn't you dating Steven, the problem is I didn't know about her! And she doesn't know about us! What exactly is your plan huh to keep her in the dark forever?!

"You're overreacting."

You have to tell her or it'll ruin whatever thing you've got going on with her.

"No!" Steven shouts on accident, and you gasp at the sound of his voice.

"Steven honey are you okay?" You call looking at the bathroom door from the kitchen.

"Fine, love! Just- uh- dropped something!" He cringes at the not even remotely convincing lie.

Trust me Steven- it's the secrets and the lies that fucked things up with the wife you so conveniently mentioned earlier

"I'm not telling her Marc, none of this is her business. It's hardly mine even. Leave her out of it." With that order, Steven stomps out of the bathroom, taking a moment to calm himself before joining you in the kitchen.

You obviously didn't know it at the time, but that morning could probably be marked as the beginning of the end. After it, you started to notice weird things about Steven's behavior. Sometimes he'd leave suddenly with some half-assed excuse or you'll catch him talking quietly to himself and you can tell he's more tired these days but you don't bring it up. As strange as it all is you want to give Steven the benefit of the doubt. He's never given you a reason not to trust him.

You: Hey Steven, I left something at your place, gonna stop by to get it later tonight.

At this point, you and Steven have keys to each other's apartments so you shoot him a text before you leave work about something you left at his that you need to pick up. You'd gone over to his yesterday after work at his behest and ended up forgetting a flash drive when you left. When you get to Steven's you knock on the door a couple of times but when he doesn't answer you let yourself in. You just need to grab your drive and you'll be out as soon as you find it anyway. The apartment is empty when you walk in and you quickly find the flash drive sitting on the floor by the couch where you'd tossed your workbag the night before upon arrival. When you bend down to reach for it though, you hear a sound from somewhere in the apartment. You startle, you know Steven's not home so you scramble for a makeshift weapon, you think someone is breaking in. You grab one of the many books Steven leaves littered around his apartment and crouch behind the couch, out of sight of the window where you heard the sound come from. The window slides open quickly and you hear the intruder scramble through it, into the apartment. You don't give yourself too much time to think about it as you hurl the book at the stranger who immediately lets out a curse when the hardcover collides with his body. You're not sure where though, you ducked back behind the couch too quickly to see it land.

"Who's there!? I'm not in the mood to kill you but I will if I have to. Just so you know." His voice rings out in the small studio. You grab another book from the coffee table as silently as you can and prepare to chuck it when he inevitably finds you behind the couch. You poke your head around the side of the furniture to try and get a look at him. He's in some sort of costume, a greyish-white full body outfit that looks like it's made of mummy wrappings, and a hooded cape. If not for the fact that he's currently breaking into your boyfriend's apartment you might think it's cool, but under the circumstances, it seems silly and wrong for the situation. Like going to a funeral in a wedding dress, or the beach in a snowsuit. So wrapped up in your internal mocking you miss the moment when he sees you until he says so.

"Shit it's you." He says and you pop up fully because that sounds like recognition though you can't see him you definitely don't recognize the voice.

"Do you know me?" You ask, book in hand still ready to throw it at him if necessary. He holds up his hands in front of him as you watch the suit dissipate before your eyes and reveal your boyfriend, but not. It's his face for sure, you'd know it anywhere, but you'd heard him talk and that was not your boyfriend's voice coming from that body. Not to mention his demeanor is different, even in his placating defensive stance you can tell the man in front of you carries himself differently.

"It's just me. Steven." He says carefully. The voice you hear is so distinctly American coming from your very British boyfriend's mouth.

"Bullshit. I don't know what you are but you are not my boyfriend. What have you done to him?" Your hold on the book in your hand tightens as you prepare yourself to chuck it at the imposter's head.

"Nothing! I swear." He says with a small shake of his head. "Dammit Steven, where are you?" He grits out so quietly you don't quite catch the words.

"And I'm supposed to believe you?! You snuck into his apartment and you sound nothing like him. I'm pretty sure this is how the bodysnatchers movie works. Except you're really shitty at pretending to be him."

"I'm not a body snatcher." He scoffs.

"Right I'll just take your word for it." You roll your eyes. There's silence for a couple of moments and then something changes in the man's face.

"Darling... put the book down we- need to talk." This time when he talks it sounds exactly like you know Steven to sound. This only further freaks you out at this point and you hurl the book at him, immediately picking up another. He dodges the book you threw, just barely "Y/n!" He takes a step towards you but you hold up a hand.

"Stay. There. I don't know what is going on but if you come any closer I will scream so loud this entire building will call the police."

"Love I would never hurt you."

"How can I possibly know that? Why did you just sound like a different person? What was that... costume? Who- what are you? Is everything you've told me a lie?!"

"No. I am Steven Grant, your boyfriend of almost a year. I work at a museum gift shop. This is my apartment. I have... something called dissociative identity disorder. It means... my mind is fractured in a way. So while I am Steven Grant your boyfriend there is another- consciousness that shares my body. His name is Marc Spector and the uh, costume is his. He does... work for an Egyptian deity when I'm not working or with you. You've met Marc before actually. Months ago when you spent the night and I told you I was sick."

"Work?" You ask.

"Some would probably label him a vigilante of sorts." Steven shrugs.

"Oh." You say.

"Oh? That's all you have to say?" He frowns.

"You've been lying to me for months Steven be glad all I have to say right now is 'oh'." You say.

"I haven't-"

"A lie by omission is still a lie. If I hadn't come here to get my flash drive you would never have told me." You mutter. "I- I need to think. I'll call you." You say turning and leaving the apartment before he can say anything else.

The dissociative identity disorder part of all this you think you're processing very well. That's something you can make sense of, something you already know of and can research. This, part time vigilante business though you- struggle to wrap your head around. Steven doesn't hear from you for a week and it's rough. Marc tries to be there for him as best he can but the anxieties of you never speaking to him again are quite unbearable. Meanwhile you go to work. Like nothing is wrong, you go in every morning and leave every evening, trying to hold onto the things that aren't affected by the information constantly swirling in your subconscious, even when you aren't actively trying to come to terms with it. Steven is entitled to his privacy. He doesn't owe you every detail of everything that goes on in his life, it's not that. You've been together a year and- it hurts to think he still doesn't trust you. That's where your head is. Why else would he keep these things secret for so long?

Before another full week passes Steven has worried himself into an absolute state. Not eating or sleeping through the night he looks even more disheveled than usual. Marc can't stand it anymore and without Steven realizing it has marched the body to your apartment. At least if Steven saw your face maybe- maybe it would ease him slightly, even if you weren't ready to speak to him. The frantic knocking at your apartment door startles you as you sit on the couch. When you glance through the spyhole and see Steven with his messed up hair and tired, sad eyes your heart aches a tiny bit. You open the door with a confused frown on your face.

"What are you doing here Steven?" The words aren't harsh, in fact, they're almost quiet.

"I know you- said you'd call but I can't. I can't keep sitting with all the ways I screwed things up, wondering if you're ever going to speak to me, contemplating just how much you hate me, and- just tell me what to do and I'll do it. How do I fix things between us? I can't stand not speaking to you, not seeing you, not knowing if we'll ever be okay again." His words are frantic and the sentences almost feel jumbled with how fast he's speaking but you hear every desperation filled word.

"I don't hate you, Steven." You say flatly.

"How do I fix this? What do I do to make you love me again?" He asks.

"Do you trust me, Steven? At all?" You ask instead of offering an answer.

"More than anyone I've ever known." He answers so immediately it's almost enough for you to believe it.

"Yet, you keep these secrets that... say otherwise."

"I have no more secrets and- it wasn't just mine. Marc- he doesn't trust easily and he doesn't know you I couldn't- I didn't want to, expose him that way no matter how much I trust you it wasn't just about me. Please, you have to know I didn't do any of this to hurt you. I love you more than anything, you are my world. I can't lose you." Steven says and the look in his eyes makes you look away from him. You can't tell him what you're thinking really, that when people say something is forever either way it ends, so instead you say what will bring him comfort.

"You haven't lost me." You tell him. You don't think he has. You don't want this to be the end. So, you pull him into your apartment and his arms wrap around you so tightly you can hardly breathe. You let him hold you like that on your couch, as if he knows you'll slip through his hands if he lets go. You stay there listening to his heart beating in his chest, feeling the comfort of his arms, the heat of his body against yours, and you let yourself sink into those feelings. Eventually, his breathing evens out and you swear he's fallen asleep and in the quiet of your apartment, you murmur your thoughts out loud. "We didn't get this right but we did our best, and we will again." You say to yourself and you know, deep in your heart even if you can't tell him tonight. You know that all things end.

And just knowing that everything will end should not change our plans, when we begin again.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #marc spector #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector fluff #steven grant fluff #steven grant fanfiction #jake lockley fluff #moonknight #moonknight x reader #moonknight fanfiction #marc spector angst #steven grant angst #moonknight angst

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lemoncrushh · 3 months

Text

You And I

Summary: Alyssa always wanted Harry, so every time he called, she was there waiting for him at the bar. But one night, things shifted between them.

Warnings: Smut, oral (f receiving), maybe a little angst. 18+ ONLY!

Word Count: 4.5k+

A/N: Originally written and posted in 2019. Harry x OC, AU, written in first person. Loosely inspired by the Lady Gaga song (not the 1D song lol).

He’d told me to wait for him at the bar. I sat at the corner, nursing a gin and tonic while the band broke down their equipment. I laughed when Billy Joel’s “Piano Man” began playing through the speakers, the line about the old man making love to his tonic and gin poignantly accentuating the scene.

“Fitting, yeah?” chuckled Bruno, the bartender I’d come to know well over the last few months.

I sneered at him as I stirred the little straw in my glass. “I dunno. I was thinking more along the lines of Lady Gaga.”

“Gaga?” Bruno raised a brow.

“Y’know. At the corner of the bar with my high heels on.”

Bruno’s shoulders shook with laughter as he wiped down the bar in front of me. “I’ll put that one on next, darling.”

“Put what on next?” I heard a voice call behind me.

I twisted around on my stool to see Harry stepping off the stage, an easy grin on his handsome face. I returned the smile, happy to get a better look at him. For the first time, the band had opted to wear makeup, something I’d urged them to try before but had never happened.

“You and I,” I teased, swinging one leg over the other. “The Gaga song.”

“Hmm,” he sounded as he approached me. Reaching his hand out, he cupped my chin, lifting it slightly before placing a soft kiss on my painted lips.

“I reckon when it comes to you and I, there will be no putting on…” he paused, a smirk causing his dimple to appear in his left cheek. “Only taking off.”

“Oh Styles, but you do have a way with words,” I quipped in a playful, faux accent.

He let out a giggle then, apparently amused by his own joke. He gave me one more kiss before tapping his hand on the bar.

“Bruno,” he said. “One more shot for the road?”

“Long as you ain’t driving, love!”

Harry eyed me, no doubt silently questioning how many drinks I’d had. In the two hours I’d been at the bar, I’d only had two drinks including the current half-drunk one in front of me. I’d watched Harry and his bandmates drink at least twice as much during their set, in addition to shots that fans in the audience had sent up.

“I’m good,” I reassured him. I was his drive home anyway. It was kind of understood.

With a nod, Bruno poured Harry a shot of dark golden liquid. Taking it in his hand, Harry clinked the glass against mine and downed it in one gulp. Lowering the glass, he smirked again when he caught me staring at him.

“Wha’?” he asked.

“Just looking at you,” I replied. “You look good with eyeliner.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Kinda sexy, actually.”

“You think?” Harry stepped closer to me, loving the attention.

“Indeed,” I continued. Then when Bruno came around and took Harry’s empty glass, I asked him. “Bruno, don’t you think Harry looks sexy with eyeliner?”

“Of course, doll!” he agreed. “Sexy AF!”

I threw my head back laughing and Harry gave Bruno a wink. “Thanks, love.”

“Sing us a song, you’re the piano man!”

At the sound of singing, I turned around again to see Jeremiah, Harry’s drummer walking towards us. The youngest member of the band, he looked so much like Pete Wentz, especially tonight with the black eyeliner.

“All packed up, H!” he told Harry. “Ready to go?”

“Um...no…” Harry tilted his head to gesture towards me. “Alyssa’s here.”

Jeremiah looked from his bandmate to me and then back, the lightbulb going off in his head.

“Oh! Yeah! Right! Sorry, mate! I’ll just…” he pointed behind him, “head out. Good to see you, Alyssa.”

“You too, hon,” I smiled. “You were smashing it tonight.”

“Thanks,” Jeremiah beamed. Then with one last wave, he stumbled over his own feet and left the way he’d come. I giggled at his adorable awkwardness, blaming it on his youth.

Swiveling back to face Harry and Bruno, I took the last few sips of my cocktail which was mostly water by then. The first chords of “You and I” started then, and I lifted my gaze to the bartender who danced with glee.

“It has been a long time since you came around,” Harry quoted the lyrics as he slid his arm around my waist.

“Two weeks, Harry,” I chuckled. “I was sat right here at this bar two weeks ago.”

“Two weeks is a long time t’me,” he murmured, his lips finding the tender spot behind my ear. I giggled softly at the touch which sent goose flesh across my skin.

“I doubt that’s the time frame Gaga was referring to,” I said wryly. “Besides, you want me around more often, perhaps you should ring or text me.”

I heard Bruno make a muffled sound of shock from behind the bar as Harry’s mouth stalled on my neck.

“I reckon I should do that,” admitted Harry.

He stood up straight then, his eyes on mine as I gave him an accusing glare. It wasn’t that I really doubted he wanted me around. But sometimes I needed that reassurance.

“You look beautiful by the way,” he said, though his words were interrupted a bit by the noise of two more lads approaching.

“Alyssa! You made it!” shouted Gavin, the band’s guitarist.

I rose from my stool and hugged both him and Max, the bassist. Two females soon followed, and I noticed the one whom I didn’t recognise wrapped her arms around Max.

“I’m so glad you went with the eyeliner tonight,” I commented. “I don’t suspect you’ll allow me to take the credit.”

Gavin grinned, “Of course, darling, it was your idea.”

“No it wasn’t,” Harry jabbed.

I turned and poked him in the ribs. “Yes it was. Let me have my moment.”

He threw his head back laughing before pulling me to him in a bear hug. I could tell he was drunk, and I could smell the whiskey on his breath, the sweat beneath his shirt, but I didn’t mind. Some of our most fun times were when we could tease each other like this. Still, sometimes I did wish he would just be honest and tell me how he felt about me, rather than always being light-hearted and funny.

Gavin, Max and the girls all got beers from Bruno before he closed up the bar. We all sat and chatted for a bit before saying our goodbyes. Then with a look - that unspoken understanding - Harry stepped off his stool, reached for my hand and followed me out to my car.

“You’re different tonight,” he finally said after a long stretch of silence except for the 90s playlist I had going.

I raised a brow as I stopped at a red light. “How do you mean?”

“I dunno. You just...are.”

I eyed him and then turned back to the road. “I got a new lipstick.”

Harry chuckled and shook his head. “‘s not that. You just...seem different.”

The light changed and I accelerated, my heartbeat doing the same.

“I’m sorry, Harry, I don’t understand. I’m still me.”

I heard Harry hum, perhaps in agreement. He was quiet again while the music changed from Alanis Morissette to Pearl Jam. I wondered what he meant exactly, though part of me had my own suspicions. Then when I was nearly a block from my flat, Harry reached over and turned down the radio, muting the voice of Eddie Vedder.

“Are we okay?” he asked me.

I stopped myself from giggling, something I sometimes tend to do when I’m anxious or nervous. Instead, I bit my lip and let his question roll around in my head. I pulled up to my building and parked before I finally let out a tiny laugh.

“We’re always okay, Harry,” I said with a grin.

Pulling the key out of the ignition, I opened my car door and stepped out. I half wondered if Harry would actually follow, but as I stepped onto the sidewalk, I heard the slam of the passenger door. Meeting me at the curb, he took my hand and walked with me up the stairs to my flat.

“I don’t have whiskey,” I called after I’d tossed my keys on the table and made my way to the kitchen. “But I have vodka and wine.”

“None for me, thanks,” I heard Harry reply.

“What?” I turned around, my eyes wide. Harry always wanted a nightcap.

“Yeah, ‘m fine.”

“Oh.” Now he was the one who seemed different.

“Did something happen, Alyssa?”

Taken aback, I paused a moment and shook my head. “Something...like what? When?”

“Since I saw you last,” replied Harry.

I turned from him, pretending to walk to the refrigerator. Then I changed my mind and took a glass down from the cupboard and poured myself water from the tap.

“Lots of things happen in two weeks, love,” I commented. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

Setting my untouched glass on the counter, I looked back at him. His face was expressionless, though his eyes seemed to reveal a bit more. Perhaps it was the makeup. No wonder they call the look “emo”.

“Tell me,” Harry said softly.

“Oh, so now you wanna talk?” I accused.

He stared at me blankly. “Yeah, baby.”

I snorted. “So, I’m baby now?”

“Alyssa…”

Ignoring the tone of his voice, I sighed and looked away.

“Let’s see…” I began. “I’ve been working a lot. Visited my mum last Saturday. Got my nails done. And bought the new lipstick like I mentioned...oh and I got a new succulent, see?” I reached for my newest addition to my cactus collection to show him. “I’ve named this one Prince because he has a bit of a purple hue to him-”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted.

I stared at him, frozen. “Sorry? For what?”

Harry stepped closer to me, taking Prince from my hands and setting it on the counter. “I’m sorry I waited two weeks to ring you.”

“Oh.” I blinked.

Sliding his hands around my waist, he pulled me to him. Tilting his head, he pressed his lips to mine, softly at first. When I responded with my hands sliding up his shoulders, he kissed me harder, with purpose.

“I do like the new lipstick,” he murmured against my lips. I grinned when I noticed some of it had rubbed off onto him.

“You have such pretty lips,” he added, his eyes focused on my mouth. “First thing I wanna do when I see you is kiss them.”

I smiled at his comment, not just from flattery but because I’d always felt the same about his.

“I also meant it when I said you looked beautiful.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. “So do you.”

Harry grinned then, a sexy smirk. “You like the eyeliner, yeah?”

“I really do,” I nodded. “I think you should wear it more often.”

“I will if you come ‘round more often.”

“You have to ring me, Styles,” I reminded him. “I have a life, you know. As much as you may like to think otherwise, I don’t keep up with your schedule.”

“Maybe I should give it to you,” Harry said, his voice deep with no trace of humour as his hands roamed down to my bum. I couldn’t help but giggle.

“My schedule, I mean,” he added with his own chuckle. “God, woman, what are you doing to me?”

“Me?” I raised a brow.

“Yes, you. You get me all flustered, I dunno what I’m saying.”

“I’m just stood here, Harry.”

“That’s enough.”

I studied his face, trying my best to read his eyes. The green seemed more defined with the black liner, and for a split second I felt my stomach flip. I lifted my hand to touch a curl that had fallen across his forehead and heard him release a breath.

The man was definitely a mystery. For months I’d shown up here or there to see his band play. In between we might’ve had a few dates, but I never felt like what we had was anything serious. We always ended up shagging, and it wasn’t like I regretted it. We definitely had that chemistry, and we were good in bed. But I didn’t think he considered me his girlfriend; I didn’t think he considered me at all. At least, not until he was ready to see me again. And like always, I would be there when he wanted, because I really liked him.

But then he’d turn around and say something like this and I’d get all kinds of confused.

As it was, I had a hard time concentrating myself with his hands on my rear end. His lined eyes kept shifting between my own eyes and my mouth, and I could tell he wanted to kiss me again. This time, however, I was the one to give in, reaching for his neck and pulling him to me.

“Mmm, baby…” he moaned against my lips. He’d called me baby a handful of times before, but it never really meant much to me like it did now. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was...perhaps I was wanting him to feel what I felt. Or just...something.

I let my fingers linger on his chest before I began to unbutton his shirt. I knew where this was headed, but I wasn’t about to stop it. Feelings or no feelings, I wanted him in my bed again.

When I reached the bottom button, our lips broke free and Harry stared at me once again, his eyes now full of desire. At least I had a knack for reading that. Just like in the pub, I took his hand with an unspoken understanding and we walked down the hall to my bedroom.

“You got new sheets,” Harry commented.

I cringed, not sure if I was more embarrassed that I’d left my bed unmade or that he’d been there enough times to notice the sheets were different. Nervously I straightened the pillows before reaching behind me to unzip my dress.

“Let me,” I heard Harry say.

He strode across the room to me, his fingers on the zipper before I could protest. When my dress fell off my shoulders, his hands took its place, pushing it down the rest of the way. I felt the chills down to my toes as I stepped out of my heels and turned to face him.

I reckon I expected him to gawk at me some more like he’d been doing all evening, so I was completely surprised when his mouth crashed into mine. I immediately wound my arms around his neck and he lifted me up and onto the bed. He continued his assault on my mouth while his fingers tangled in my hair at the sides of my head. I could feel his erection through his jeans, the friction a fabulous sensation between my legs. Bending my knees, I lifted my hips slightly as I let out a gasp, the feeling of denim on cotton nearly too much for me.

Harry paused the snogging long enough to sit up and loop his fingers through the sides of my knickers. He looked at my face as he bit his lip. I wondered for a second if he was changing his mind, as this was usually not a part of the scenario where he’d stop.

“Something wrong?” I dare asked.

“Do you want me, Alyssa?”

My immediate reaction was more confusion. He’d never asked me that before. Sure, he’d moaned in my ear or against my mouth on more than one occasion that he wanted me. But he’d never asked if I wanted him. My expression softened and I gave him a smile.

“I always want you, Harry.”

With the tiniest grin and a nod, he pulled my panties down and let them fall on the floor. Then stood at the edge of the bed, he began to remove his own pants. I reached over to the bedside table then where I kept the condoms and pulled one out of the drawer.

“I promise I’ll bring my own next time,” I heard him say.

Lying on my back, I watched him crawl up the bed again.

“Next time?” I couldn’t help but razz him. The first time he’d stayed over, he didn’t have protection, but I did. I reckon after that it was just assumed.

“Yeah…” he lowered his face to mine. “Next time, love. I promise.”

He kissed me softly then, the softest kiss ever. He continued with a second on my chin, a third on my neck, a fourth on my chest…

I lost count after that.

I gripped the sheets underneath me when I felt his breath on my inner thigh. A low moan-like sound escaped my throat as I felt his thumb graze over me where I was already wet and waiting.

“You want me here?” Harry asked.

I barely heard him, his voice was so low and deep. But somehow my insides reacted and I managed to make a sound similar to yes.

I shut my eyes when I felt his tongue on me. He licked me delicately at first, like he was testing the temperature of his tea. I squirmed underneath him until he looped his arms around my legs and pulled me closer to him, his tongue pressing just a bit.

“Harry…” I panted. “Oh god.”

My legs shook around his head while he began to devour me, his tongue working faster. Opening my eyes, I began to watch him, as much as I could at least. I reached down and pushed that one stubborn curl from his forehead and his eyes shifted up, locking with mine.

“‘s that good, baby?” he murmured, barely tearing his mouth away.

I merely nodded, the only thing I could manage at the moment besides coming undone. I bit my finger when he smiled and resumed his task, making me reach the edge.

I tugged on his hair as I came, calling out his name. He nipped at my thighs gently as they trembled before climbing up the bed to hover over me.

For a solid minute or two, he just stared at me. Perhaps he was waiting for me to say something. Perhaps he was waiting for the green light. Or perhaps he was just waiting for me to stop shaking, I dunno. But I swear his gaze was like a magnet. I couldn’t look away.

The eyeliner had begun to smudge a bit from his recent activity. I started to reach up to swipe my thumb underneath his eye when I remembered the condom in my hand. I smiled and raised my brows, offering it to him.

“You still want me, baby?” he asked, taking it from me.

“What did I say?”

“Just making sure.”

Harry uncertainty was definitely something I was not used to, but as I watched him roll the condom on, I wondered if it wasn’t a put-on. He was nothing if not confident.

Situating himself, he kissed me once more before looking into my eyes.

“I always want you too, Alyssa,” he murmured.

Then before I could respond, he entered me fully. I gasped a tiny breath when I realised how deep he was so quickly. Then exhaling through my nose, I wrapped my legs around him.

“Mmm, I love when you do that,” he said.

I couldn’t help but giggle, knowing that was definitely something he liked, and I liked pleasing him. We moved together, a slow, steady rhythm at first. I could already feel my core reacting, my most sensitive spots throbbing.

He lifted his head again and I watched his face, his eyes burning into mine as he began to move faster. I had to unravel my legs from him, lifting my knees to give him more room for thrusts. Then with a groan, he sat back and held my hips as he fucked me hard. I bit my lip to keep my moans at bay, but I couldn’t help it. Dropping my arms beside my head, I cursed and called his name.

“Yeah, baby,” he growled. “So good, innit?”

“Fuck, yes.”

He slowed down then, a low chuckle releasing from his throat. “C’mere.”

I looked at him in wonder as he guided me up and onto his lap. I noticed then that he was perspiring, beads of sweat dripping on his forehead. This time I did reach to wipe them off, but instead Harry took my hands and kissed the backs of them.

“You’re amazing, Alyssa, you know that?”

I beamed at him as I slowly began to ride him.

“You want me, Harry?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck as his gorgeous green eyes looked up at me, the makeup starting to run down one cheek. I didn’t want to wipe it away this time. He looked so sexy.

“Always,” he replied.

I licked my lips and kissed him hard, my tongue wrestling with his. His hands covered my breasts while my hips moved gingerly. Then breaking the kiss, I rode him faster, bouncing on his lap.

“Oh, Jesus,” he moaned as he moved his hands to my hips for leverage.

“Is that good?” I asked him, just like he’d asked me earlier.

“Fuck yeah, baby, you drive me crazy.”

I watched his face, knowing he was close to unraveling. He let out a few expletives as his fingers dug into my flesh.

“Come for me, baby,” I urged. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to watch him, and just the thought of it made me drip with delight.

“You first,” he shook his head.

I wanted to argue that I already had, and that was enough. But I knew he’d just argue back. This goddamn boy. He was going to make me fall for him, wasn’t he?

I slowed down my pace, only slightly as I needed to rejuvenate. My breaths evening out and heartbeat slowing, I kissed him again. Our lips still locked, Harry grabbed my waist and laid me back on the bed again. Then he lifted my leg and pounded me hard.

“Fuck, Harry!” I screamed.

“Wrap your legs around me, love,” he requested.

I came immediately, the sensation of him deep inside and the sounds of his moans tipping me over the edge. My body trembled beneath his as his breaths quickened in my ear.

“Baby…” he groaned. “Oh, Alyssa.”

The sounds he made as he came were indescribable. This wasn’t our first shag. But it was definitely our first something else.

I lay spent on the dampened sheets, wishing I’d remembered to turn on the fan. Sticky with sweat, Harry rolled off of me, discarded the condom into the nearby bin and laid on his back breathing hard. We stayed like that for a while in silence until Harry surprised me again.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said for the...how many times? I turned my head to look at him, but his gaze was on the ceiling, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t text just to let you know I was thinking of you. Because I was.”

My breath caught in my throat but I managed to clear it. “You were?”

“‘Course.” He turned onto his side to face me. His lips were so close to mine if either of us moved only slightly, they would touch.

“How was I supposed to know that, Harry?” I asked just above a whisper.

Shaking his head, he seemed to consider my question. “I reckon you weren’t. I’m sorry.”

I bit my lip as he leant his forehead against mine and swung his arm across my waist. He hummed softly as though he had a song in his head.

“I wish I’d rung you to talk about your day. To ask about work or your mum. To hear about your adorable succulents.”

His last comment made me smile. “To be fair, you did text me Wednesday. So not quite two weeks.”

“Fucking Wednesday. Jesus, Alyssa,” he sighed. “And a text. How the fuck am I to expect us to be okay when I bloody text you on a Wednesday?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Are we okay? Because you kind of have me worried now.”

“Yeah, if I haven’t already fucked it up,” he groaned.

“Harry…I never said you fucked it up. I’m still here. I still came to your show. I showed up and waited at the bar like you asked me to.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Did I really seem different tonight?” I asked.

“Not...well, kinda. You just...didn’t seem like yourself, that’s all.”

“Well then, I apologise, because I thought I was the same as I’ve always been - the same as you want.”

“What I want?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Well, Harry…” I hesitated. “We’ve never really discussed what we want from each other. But I assumed you didn’t want anything serious. We’re like...friends with benefits I reckon.”

“No, we’re not,” he stated.

My jaw dropped as I glared at him.

“I don’t want you to be..." he added.

“What?”

“Baby, I don’t want you to be just a friend with benefits. I want...this.” Harry gestured between us.

“This?”

“Us. You and I. Or, um...you and me, whatever.”

I could feel my heart beating in my chest, and I was sure it was so loud he could hear it. “Seriously?”

Harry nodded, his hand sliding underneath my jaw. “I want you, baby.”

I sighed, tears starting to form in my eyes. Blinking fast, I swallowed hard. “What brought this on?”

“I’ve been trying to tell you. I don’t mean just sex. I want you, for real. I was gutted when I thought something had changed between us, but then I realised it was my own fucking fault.”

“I don’t...know what to say, Harry.”

“Say you want me too. You and I.”

I smiled as I reached for him, kissing him tenderly and eagerly. “Always.”

Harry’s dimples appeared in his cheeks as he beamed at me. I couldn’t help it. I started giggling.

“Oh love,” I sighed. “Please tell me you’ll continue to do the eyeliner thing. I’m with Bruno. You look sexy AF.”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm. Truth? You look completely fucked. And I love that it was with me. Only makes me want you more.”

“Well, in that case,” he murmured low, pulling my leg across his, “I’ll wear it from now on.”

“Just so I know it’s for me, and not your groupies.”

Harry snorted. “Or Bruno?”

“Eh, I don’t mind so much about Bruno. He’s on my side.”

Harry laughed harder before kissing me across my cheek and down my neck.

“You really are amazing, Alyssa,” he whispered in my ear. “Now...tell me about your succulents.”

“Well Prince is the newest, like I said,” I began, Harry’s mouth continuing its trail down my neck and shoulder. “Mick and Freddie were my first two and they’re still going strong. But Bowie is a bit temperamental…”

Hope you enjoyed!

Please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

dividers by @firefly-graphics

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 3 months

Note

Could I please request Casey Novak! She’s my all time favourite baby! Maybe something like how reader is Burning with hatred when the new friend Casey starts to be too touching and affectionate. You can make it angsty or how ever you like. A bit random but I dunno I’m feeling jealous lately I need to get it out of my system before it eats at me more .

Thanks you my love! 🥰

All yours, anon! I don't write a whole lot of angst, so this was fun! (Happy ending tho because of who I am fundamentally lol). Hope you enjoy! --illdowhatiwantthanks

With the Crack of a Bat

Casey Novak x fem!reader Warnings: violent thoughts on the part of the reader (not like murderous or deeply harmful or anything, but... we're definitely wishing ill-will), some angst, very vague references to sex, innuendo (please let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.3k

Summary: There's a new girl on yours and Casey's LGBTQ+ softball team, and you do not like how cozy she's getting with your girlfriend.

You sat fuming in the dugout, waiting your turn to bat, the heel of your cleat grinding repeatedly into the dirt-caked concrete. You weren’t usually a jealous person and, in the several months you’d been dating, Casey had done nothing to suggest that she was the kind of person who’d cheat on you. In fact, she’d done quite the opposite, proving herself again and again to be loyal to a fault.

But the new girl–Eloise–she made you more insecure than you’d been since high school. She was everything you weren’t. Lithe where you were stocky. Feminine where you were rough around the edges. Suave and easy and flirtatious where you were awkward and fumbling. In short, she would have been a popular girl. She was popular on the LGBTQ+ softball team. Even just in scrimmages, like today, both sides of your split team vied for Eloise to be their pitcher. She was the best. There was no way around it.

You hated playing catcher for her. She was more of a one-woman show than a team player. She often ignored your play calls. When she pulled it off, it paid off. But you’d allowed more than one stolen base because she threw where you weren’t expecting and you missed the catch.

But today, you’d discovered something you hated even more than playing catcher for her: Casey playing first base for her. Every strikeout, every tag-team play, they were all over each other. Chatty as could be. Hugging, cheering, lingering high-fives. It made you livid. But if you’d examined your anger, you would have found that what it really made you was scared. Scared that Casey would like Eloise more than you because, let’s be honest, what’s not to like?

You swung your bat, letting your shoulders and hips get loose as you waited on deck. A tip of the ball from the batter in front of you–a grounder to Eloise, who scooped it up and tossed it wildly to Casey. It would have been an easy throw to miss, but Casey bent and stretched for it, tagging the runner out at first with only seconds to spare.

Eloise whooped and the two came together for a high-five.

“Hell yeah, Novak,” Eloise called, smacking her ass. You felt your jaws clench. “Gotta love a girl who knows how to bend.” She spoke a little too loud, a little too pointed, especially as you approached the box. She wasn’t even being sly about it anymore. It’s like Eloise was goading you, teasing you, as if she was saying without saying, I could take your girl. Easy.

You took a deep breath and focused. Focused all your rage, all your insecurity, all your desperate love for Casey that felt suddenly so very tenuous, and held it all in your twisted grip on the bat. You exhaled slowly, blood pumping loud in your ears, tensed and ready for Eloise’s pitch. And when it came–wham. You sent it flying–straight into Eloise’s left boob. The thwunk was so unbelievably satisfying, you had to wipe the smile off your face before anyone noticed. Eloise doubled over, clutching her chest, stumbling into the dirt on the pitcher’s mound. The rest of the fielders ran to her.

What you really wanted was to victoriously round the bases, but that seemed in bad taste, so you dropped your bat and walked over to the pitcher’s mound, too.

“Oh my god, Eloise,” you said, trying your best to sound sincere. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all good,” she groaned, taking Casey’s hand and grasping it as she pulled herself to her feet.

You frowned as you watched Casey support Eloise with an arm around her back. This was backfiring. This was not going the way you’d planned. Softball practice effectively dissipated as one of the girls got Eloise some water and another dumped hers to make a makeshift ice pack for her to hold on her chest.

After making sure Eloise was okay, Casey turned to you, glaring. You shrank. This was really not going as planned.

“Get your shit,” Casey said, her voice harsh and flat. “Let’s go.”

You silently gathered your things and followed her to the car, scared by her tone, scared by the fact that she didn’t take your hand on the way to the car like she always did, scared that she seemed well and truly mad–a rarity for Casey.

“Case–” you started, as you both climbed into the car and slammed the doors.

“What the fuck was that!?” she yelled, brows furrowed, face red. “The rest of the team might not know, but you and I know exactly how good your aim is with a bat. That was not an accident, Y/N.”

You were quiet, head bent, trying not to cry. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Casey shook her head. “What is your deal with her!? You’ve been acting so weird since she joined the team.”

“I’ve been acting weird!?” you shot back, surprised by your own anger. “You’ve been weird. She’s all over you, Casey. She flirts with you constantly. In front of me. And you just… let her!”

Casey looked at you with genuine shock. “What are you talking about?!”

You dashed away a few angry tears that slid down your cheeks. “She’s… she’s so fucking pretty and cool and strong and you clearly like her and I just… I don’t know. I’m sorry. It was dumb.”

“Y/N,” Casey said, her voice cooling a bit. “I like Eloise as a friend. That’s it.”

“Well,” you sniffed. “She likes you as more than a friend. And she acts like it.”

You let out a shaky breath, jumping a bit when you felt Casey’s hands on the side of your warm face. You glanced at her and saw that she was fighting off a smile, her eyebrows raised.

“You’re jealous,” she said, savoring the word, letting it linger. “Is that what this is about?”

You blushed furiously, looking pointedly at the door handle. “I’m sorry. I know it’s stupid.”

Casey sighed, then chuckled a bit, brushing her thumb against your cheekbone. “It’s kind of cute actually. But, Y/N, honey…” She turned your face so you had to look her in the eyes. “I am not flirting with Eloise. I will make it clear to her that I’m in a relationship. Maybe she just didn’t know.”

You had your doubts about this, but you decided to keep quiet about it for the time being.

Casey continued. “But unless she doesn’t respect that boundary, I still want to be friends with her. Okay? You can’t ask me to not be friends with people because you’re jealous.”

You nodded and sighed. “I know. But if she keeps flirting with you anyway?”

“If she keeps coming on to me, I will cut it off. I promise.”

You sighed, grinding your teeth.

“Baby,” Casey said, pressing her forehead to yours, both of you heady with the scents of ballpark dust and sweat and the leather of your gloves. “I can assure you I do not talk to Eloise or anyone else the way I talk to you. Or touch them the way that I touch you.”

You shuddered as she brushed her lips against yours.

“She’s not even my type,” Casey finished, her mouth mere centimeters from yours.

“And what’s your type?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

“You.” And then she kissed you. She kissed you with so much fervor, so much passion, as if she couldn’t communicate how yours she was with mere words, so she had to use her lips instead. And you knew then–just as deep down you’d always know–that Casey wasn’t flirting with anyone else. She wasn’t looking at anyone else. She certainly wasn’t doing this with anyone else. Casey was yours. And you were hers. And you’d do anything and everything to keep it that way.

#casey novak #casey novak x reader #casey novak x fem!reader #casey novak angst #casey novak fanfic #svu #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic

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hugmekenobi · 5 months

Text

S3: The Bad Batch (3)

Chapter Three: Shadows of Tantiss

Gif by @theworstbatch

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.

Chapter Summary: Time is against Omega and Crosshair as they finally make the move to escape

Masterlist for S1 and S2

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: Canon-typical violence, mentions of food and the importance of self-care, the Force and meditation works how I say it can, reader is a bit more forceful in making Hunter look after himself lol, Hemlock and Palpatine, threatening insinuations, light angst, again my interpretations of headspaces, limited use of (y/n)

Word Count: 3.7K

Author's notes: The people have spoken (it was three people but people I greatly appreciate and it was enough) so here is the third chapter too! Very much sticking with the episode plot because the main focus is on Crosshair and Omega for this one but there's still an added moment in the beginning! Enjoy and I'm excited to start chapter four!

“You picking up anything?” Wrecker asked your cross-legged form that was seated by the tree at the top of Pabu.

You heaved an annoyed sigh as you sat there. “Nope. I don’t know if it’s cause I’m out of practice or if she’s really somewhere I can’t reach or both, but I can’t get a read on her.” You then sensed Wrecker’s slight unease. “What’s up?”

“Well… um… Hunter’s talking about heading out immediately.”

“Mm-hmm.” You said, shielding your eyes from the sun as you opened them to look at him. “And that’s a problem because?”

“Come on, (Y/N), we can’t just drop the kids here and leave. That’s not fair to them. Plus, Shep offered us a break and- and I- I think it would be good if we got some actual food in our systems. Supplies haven’t exactly been easy to come by when you’re travelling as much as we are.”

You had to agree with him there. You got to your feet and followed his eyes and saw Hunter disengage from a conversation with Shep and stride back to the Marauder. “And what exactly do you want me to do here?”

“Just…” He breathed heavily. “I dunno. Talk to him? Try to get him to listen? He won’t hear us out but- but your relationship is different and- and it’s not just for me, okay. Do it for him. I know things are better but…” He trailed off. “But I’m still worried about him that’s all.”

His sensitivity to the situation never failed to strike a chord with you. You patted his arm. “We’re family, Wrecker. I’d do it just for you anyway.”

Wrecker let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, I know.”

You walked away from him towards the ship and as you stepped aboard, you saw Hunter sitting back by the navicomputer with his sight fixed firmly on the datapad. “You know, the sector isn’t going to change if you don’t look at it every two minutes.”

“I’m just making sure we have it correct and ready to go. Can you get Wrecker?” Hunter asked without looking at you yet.

“About that…” You came to stand in front of him and placed your fingers under his chin to get him to face you. “What’s this about you wanting to just leave the cadets and take off? Shep’s offering us some decent food and we could rest up before we depart.”

“We don’t have time.” He maintained.

“No one’s talking about a five-course meal. It’s a quick sit down where you can put those clones at ease about this new situation that they’re in and you take a moment to just look after yourself.”

“I don’t need-”

“Hunter, when was the last time you had something to eat that wasn’t just rations?” You interrupted sternly. The mere fact that he couldn’t answer told you that it had been far too long. “Look, we don’t know what we’re going to face out there and we all need to be at full strength and ration bars can’t always cut it. It’s not just you involved in this either. Wrecker has been at it non-stop too and he deserves a moment of respite and something that isn’t a flavourless stick and so do you.

“(Y/N)-”

“Thirty minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”

As Hunter saw the determined look in your face, he heaved a sigh, but put the datapad down. He had never wanted his tunnel-vision with this search to negatively impact the rest of you but thanks to you, he realised now that if he had insisted on leaving immediately, then that’s exactly what he’d be doing.

Taking that as your answer, you took a hold of his hands and started to pull.

“Half an hour?” Hunter double checked as he let you tug him from the chair.

“Half an hour.” You confirmed with a nod. “Then we can get going again.”

Omega was already on her feet and waiting by the door when Emerie opened it.

“Good morning, Omega. Come along, there is much to do today.”

Omega followed Emerie through the usual route to the testing room but as she walked in and hopped up onto the examination table, she noticed there were more troopers patrolling and there was a new kind of tension in the air. “Something’s different.” She shared her observation aloud to Emerie. “Why are there so many troopers around?”

“I’m not certain.” Emerie replied.

“You don’t know?” Omega queried, not fully understanding how Emerie could be so content not knowing about what was going on around her.

“The doctor will inform me if it’s necessary.” Emerie prepared the blood drawing equipment and took the sample from Omega.

The door opened and they both turned to see Hemlock and Nala Se enter the lab.

“Emerie, a word?” Hemlock called over.

Emerie put the sample in the tray and walked over to him.

“An unexpected guest arriving shortly. Nala Se and I will be indisposed until he departs. Oversee the lab in her absence.”

“As you wish, Doctor. I will begin testing the latest samples.”

“That is unnecessary.” Nala Se interjected. “I will see to them when I return.” She had been doing her job in keeping Omega safe and having Emerie carry out the tests jeopardised all of it.

“Dr. Karr’s quite capable of handling such matters.” Hemlock ignored the Kaminoan’s objections and faced Emerie. “See it done.” His attentions were then commandeered when Scorch walked through the doors.

“Sir.”

“Is everything in order?”

“Affirmative. The shuttle has left the orbital station and the coordinated were transmitted.”

Nala Se stepped away from Hemlock to walk over to Omega as she saw Emerie gather the samples and leave the lab. She pretended to examine the records on the screen as she quietly addressed the young girl, “Omega… listen carefully. If Emerie tests your sample, you will be in danger. You must flee this facility before it is too late.”

“Wait. Is that why you’ve been destroying my sample?” Omega whispered back.

“Yes.” Nala Se replied. “Project-” But Hemlock’s voice interrupted her.

“Nala Se, come along. Our guest is arriving.”

“Go to the lab, retrieve my datapad and use it to escape. Sneak aboard a shuttle and flee.” Nala Se instructed before she left with Hemlock.

Omega made her way to the lab, her nerves growing as she saw the vast number of patrolling troopers, but she couldn’t second guess now, Nala Se made it clear she had to go, and she could make it work, she just needed the datapad and Crosshair.

She entered the lab and saw that Emerie had already placed all the samples, including hers into the centrifuge.

“Did you need something, Omega?” Emerie asked.

“I… Hemlock said there’s a guest arriving.” She released an awkward chuckle. “Who is it?”

“It’s best not to ask questions.” Emerie replied briskly. “See to your tasks for the day.” When Omega made no move to leave, she properly looked at her. “Are you feeling well? Forget your assignments and get some rest.”

“Okay.” Omega said lightly before she made her way over to Nala Se’s datapad but Emerie’s voice stopped her from taking it.

“Omega, I can handle things here. Go. I’ll check on you later.” Emerie insisted.

Double checking that Emerie’s attention was elsewhere again, Omega grabbed the datapad and ran out of the lab.

“We have quadrupled our objectives in record time.” Hemlock informed Emperor Palpatine as he led him to the vault. “The exotic matter facilities have expanded, providing alteration and testing of much larger assets.”

“I have need of such grand designs. However, that is not the reason why I am here today.”

“Of course. Project Necromancer.” With that, Hemlock activated the door to the vault.

Omega made her way to the detention level and covertly ran to the cell where her brother was lying on the cell cot. “Crosshair.” She whispered.

“What are you doing here?” Crosshair asked irritably.

“Escaping. And you’re coming with me.”

Crosshair reluctantly sat up and regarded the girl with scepticism. “You found a weak point?”

“Not exactly. I’m kinda improvising.”

“Is that some kind of a joke?”

“I’ll explain later. Just get the guards’ attention.”

Crosshair sighed, “That’s not a plan.”

Omega released a disgruntled scoff, and she did not want to entertain this argument, “Just distract him.” She insisted.

His longing for freedom trumped his displeasure at the fact that this kid seemed to lack any sort of proper strategic thinking. So, he got to his feet and walked towards the bars of his cell and addressed the two troopers standing down the corridor. “Guards!”

Omega waited round the corner and watched as one of them approached Crosshair’s door.

“Unlock this cell.” Crosshair demanded.

“What did you say?”

“I was giving you an order.”

The guard scoffed and called back to his partner, “This clone thinks he outranks us.”

“I do.” Crosshair replied simply as he saw the other guard coming to join. “And I’ll take your blaster too.”

“Oh yeah?” The trooper challenged with a mocking laugh. “How are you gonna do that?”

Whilst this was happening, Omega used the opening to place her datapad into the now unmanned centre console and programmed Crosshair’s cell door to unlock.

“You’ll see.” Crosshair didn’t have to wait long until his door opened, and he instantly overpowered the trooper. He stole his blaster and used his body as a shield from the oncoming stun blasts from the second stormtrooper whilst he fired his own stun blast in return and they both fell the ground.

“Nice work.” Omega praised as he put them back behind the cell door.

“Didn’t have much choice.” Crosshair griped as he picked up the second blaster.

“You’re out of the cell, aren’t you?” Omega countered smugly as she removed the datapad and caught the blaster he tossed to her before they both started running.

“Well? Start talking.” Crosshair said as he waited for her to get the next door open.

“I told you. We’re escaping.” Omega repeated.

“Why now? What’s changed?”

“Nala Se said I had to. And I wasn’t gonna leave without you.”

Crosshair let that sink in for a moment. It wasn’t a sentiment he was used to hearing or experiencing, and whilst he held responsibility for that, it was still strange to here coming from someone who had no true reason to have any loyalty to him.

“She told me to use her datapad to access the base and find a shuttle. We just need to get to a hangar.” Omega continued explaining as she finally got the door open.

They took cover behind the hallway’s centre console as a squadron of stormtrooper passed and they overheard part of their musings.

“We’re not supposed to be on patrol until midwatch.”

“Commander’s orders. All hands-on deck until the Emperor departs.”

“The Emperor’s here?” Crosshair hissed.

“What? I didn’t know.” Omega said defensively as she looked through the manifest of available shuttles.

Crosshair released another exasperated sigh. “Another reason why this was not the day to wing an escape.”

“Thanks for the reminder, but I think we’re past that point.” It was then that Omega noticed the tremor in his hand as he held the blaster. “Your hand’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

“I- It’s fine.” Crosshair said with a dismissive grunt as he willed it to stop shaking.

Not having time to push the matter yet, Omega turned her focus back to the screen but what she saw was not good. “Uh oh.”

“What?”

She took the datapad out. “All the shuttles have been grounded, except the Emperor’s. We’ll have to steal it.”

The sheer simplicity in which she said that had him realising that his brothers may have entertained one too many crazy ideas in his absence. “Impossible. It will be too well-guarded, even for me.”

Omega pondered through any possible alternatives in her head and then she came to the realisation with a gasp. “Wait. I know a shuttle we can use. It crash-landed outside the perimeter back when I first came here.”

“How does a crashed shuttle help us?”

“If the comms are still functioning, we can contact the others.”

He could concede that that part of this ill-conceived ‘plan’ wasn’t totally far-fetched. “And how do we get outside?”

“Follow me.”

“As you can see, the specimens are well-guarded to ensure they remain viable for testing. However, with more time, and additional resources, I am confident that we will have a successful M-count replication.” Hemlock revealed to the cloaked figure.

“There is nothing of greater importance to secure the future of this Empire. Whatever is needed to accomplish this goal, you will have it.”

“Thank you, Emperor.” Hemlock made to show him out, but he only turned to face him. His yellow eyes the only thing visible underneath the cloak as they regarded him with curiosity but also with a hint of disappointment.

Palpatine did not follow the scientist immediately. “I did here word, however, one such specimen escaped your grasp.” He commented. “One that perhaps could offer you more than those that are already under your… observations.”

Hemlock’s posture stiffened and he massaged the palm of his gloved hand. “It was an unfortunate error but one I am hoping to rectify.”

Palpatine only silently nodded before he started to walk out.

As they entered the kennels, they didn’t give the droid much time to react. A few blasts from their blasters and he was down.

“Now what?” Crosshair asked.

“We’ll use the kennel chute.” Omega said as she readied the controls. “It leads outside, but it’s protected by a timed ray shield. We’ll have to move fast or we’ll be trapped.”

Crosshair regarded the aggressive barking hounds uneasily. “Oh, I can hardly wait.”

“We can use Batcher’s empty kennel. Be ready.” She opened the chute, but the door whirred open.

“Omega.”

Crosshair cocked his blaster towards the woman that walked in.

“Don’t!” Omega placed her hand on his arm to get him to lower it.

Crosshair didn’t listen, he kept his sights trained on her.

“You should go back to your room.” Emerie advised as she advanced towards them.

“You mean her cell.” Crosshair snapped.

“You’re not thinking clearly. Neither of you.” Emerie said. “But it’s not too late. Come with me and no one needs to know about this.”

“I can’t do that.” Omega responded firmly.

“Omega-”

“I spent most of my life confined on Kamino. I won’t be trapped here too.” She looked imploringly at the older clone. “You’re a clone like us, Emerie. Help us.”

Crosshair could tell Omega’s words weren’t doing enough to convince her and he set his blaster to stun.

“Escape is not possible, Omega. This is for your own good.” She pressed the security alarm, but the stun shot hit her immediately afterwards.

The dreaded sound of the comms steady chirp told Crosshair he’d reacted a split second too late. “We have to go.”

Omega activated the first kennel door and the two of them ran down the chute.

Hemlock watched the Emperor’s shuttle depart with a growing sense of pride as the possibility of becoming the scientific minister felt closer than it ever had before.

“Sir.”

Hemlock half turned his head to the sound of Scorch’s voice. “What is it?” He asked tightly.

“Omega and CT-9904 are missing.”

He turned around fully. “Missing?” He glanced over at Nala Se and though her face didn’t give much away, he was sure she was involved somehow.

“An alarm was just triggered in the lurca kennels.”

“Seal it off.” He ordered.

An alarm blared through the tunnel and the shields throughout the chut started to turn back on.

“The shield’s not supposed to be active yet.” Omega said in distress.

“They know we’re in here.” Crosshair realised before he increased his speed. “Move faster!”

Together, they both managed to dive out of the exit just as the last shield activated.

Crosshair peered into the dark forest ahead. “What direction is the crashed shuttle?”

“Not sure.” Omega replied.

“Oh, great.” Crosshair muttered impatiently before he looked up to the sound of a shuttle leaving the base. “We’ll follow the flight path.”

“I’m picking up something.” Omega said as she looked at the datapad whilst they both came to a stop. “I think it could be the ship. That way.” She pointed ahead but the cry of a vicious snarl grabbed both their attention.

“Oh, good. The killer hounds.” Crosshair said wryly.

They started their run again but with Omega being so focused on the screen, she tumbled over a tree root.

Crosshair picked up the loose datapad and helped the girl up to her feet.

“Thanks.” Omega said but then she heard a new kind of animal growl, and she peered past Crosshair to see a giant bear-like creature standing tall on two legs. “Crosshair.” She said nervously.

Crosshair pointed his blaster, but he knew by the sheer size of the creature that there wouldn’t be much he could do.

Suddenly, the hounds came running in and rather than come after them, they charged at the creature, and they gratefully took the opportunity to keep running to the downed shuttle.

They reached the shuttle and Omega got to work on powering it up whilst Crosshair kept watch.

Having been dismissed by Dr. Hemlock when she’d come too, Emerie made her way back to the lab to do as he instructed and monitor things there. The monotonous click of the centrifuge blended into the background as she worked.

“Anything?” Crosshair asked.

Omega hit the control panel in sheer frustration. “It’s not working!” She let out a defeated sigh. “Comms are completely dead.” She put the datapad into a supply pack she’d found, grabbed her blaster, and put the pack on her back and came out to join Crosshair.

“They’re coming.” Crosshair said as he heard the low sound of engines approaching and he signalled to Omega to take cover to the side of the shuttle.

“I’m sorry. I thought this would work.” Omega

He may have been doubtful in the beginning, but it was clear that what he originally thought was careless thinking was actually rooted in that out-of-the-box thinking that had gotten him and his brother’s their success during the war and time thereafter. She had done something just by finding a way outside. Now, he could bring in his own experience. “You got us this far. And we’re not done yet. Did they teach plan 72?”

“Mm-hmm. Tech had me memorize all the plans.”

Despite the situation, he couldn’t help the small but fond smile that graced his face upon hearing that. “Of course he did.”

The two of them got in position as the shuttle arrived.

He looked at his hand with anger and infuriation as his aim was off with the first shot and all he could do was retreat into the treeline whilst they fired back at him.

With Crosshair’s distraction giving the opening she needed, Omega made her way to one of the cables the troopers had used to descend. But before she could get up, a stormtrooper cocked his blaster.

“Stand down.”

She awkwardly turned and waved to the soldier. “Hello.”

“I said, stand down.” He repeated forcefully.

Omega watched with shock as a lurca hound came snarling out from a bush and took out the trooper and when he got to his feet and aimed at the hound, she got her own stun blast away. “Batcher?” The answering happy bark told her the answer. “Stay close.” With that, Batcher went to take care of the troopers and she hooked onto the cable and ascended.

With the hound Omega had befriended making her appearance, Crosshair was able to take out more guards than he thought he would’ve been able to.

If things had gone according to plan, he would be able to join Omega in the shuttle in a few minutes. He just needed to bide his time.

Sure enough, as he took out one other trooper, the shuttle started to move wildly out of position and as he took cover from an onslaught of blaster fire, the shuttle fired down on the remaining troopers, and he hastily made his way across the rocks to reach the opening ship doors.

Omega steadied the shuttle and came down the lift to provide Crosshair with cover fire as he came in board and headed up to the pilot’s chair.

Crosshair reached the seat and chucked the pilot out the hatch.

Hearing the doors getting ready to shut, Omega took cover and whistled for Batcher. “Batcher, come!”

When the dog was safely inside, Crosshair shut the doors and got the ship in the air.

Emerie had gotten so used to the monotonous drone of the centrifuge that it had become mere background noise. So much so that she almost missed the new rhythmic beeping that chimed as a new sample clicked into position. Emerie stood up and investigated the screen and the realisation with what she saw, stunned her.

The troopers had only been half the problem. Despite having escaped the ground assault, they were now trying to out fly V-wing shuttles and the bases’ laser cannons and one of them managed to hit the shuttle.

“They’re locking onto us!” Omega shouted as alarms blared throughout the shuttle. “I can’t shake them! Systems are failing.”

“I want that ship neutralized.” Hemlock insisted heatedly as he watched map in main control room.

“Stop! Don’t shoot them down!” Emerie urged as she entered the room.

“What?” Hemlock snapped.

“The clone’s sample supported a positive M-count transfer with no degradation from the specimen.”

“CT-9904 was ruled out long ago.” Hemlock argued.

“Not him. It’s Omega.” Emerie revealed, showing him the results.

Hemlock studied the datapad and saw what she was talking about. “Call them off!” He directed Scorch.

“But, sir, they’re escaping.” Scorch tried to protest.

“Stand down!” Hemlock insisted. “We need her alive.”

Not looking to question the reason as to why they peeled off, Crosshair shouted to Omega. “Now!”

Omega launched the ship into hyperspace.

Hemlock watched the ship disappear off the map.

“They’ve jumped.” Scorch confirmed.

Hemlock released a short sigh. “A minor setback. I have the full resources of the Empire at my disposal. We will find her. And with her gone, she will lead us to someone else who will prove most useful to our endeavours.” With that, he exited the room.

Next Chapter>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @andreaaxy, @dominoeffectsworld, @nightmonkeysstuff, @arctrooper69, @starwarsnerd111, @fuckoffthanos, @graciexmarvel, @tpwkcalli, @brujaporfavor, @flyingkangaroo, @ladytano420, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf, @yyourmotherr, @sunkissedclones, @xxeiraxx, @dragonrider9905, @skellymom, @lokigirlszendaya

#the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch s3 #hunter x reader #hunter x femalejedi!reader #hunter x fem!reader #hunter x female!reader #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #hunter tbb #hunter the bad batch #the bad batch hunter x you #hunter x y/n #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars #friends to lovers #angst #hurt/comfort

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abeautylives · 2 years

Text

Something About You

a/n: A huge thank you to Stef and Evana for your help and input, I think this is my masterpiece lol

pairing: Joshxfemale!reader

word count: 15.5k get comfy

summary: Drawn to you from the moment you met, consumed by you before your first date, he would do anything for you. There’s just something about you.

warnings: 18+ minors stay far away, language, drinking, mentions of sex, extreme fluff, deception, explicit sexual content, mentions of oral (m. and f. receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, a twist, angst, breeding!kink, more fluff, it’s a novel so if I missed anything I’m so sorry

“I dunno Jake, what if they’re on a date?”

“I mean, maybe but… I don’t think so.”

Eyeing them from across the room, Josh takes another sip of his drink as his brother continues to assess the two women in question smiling across the table at each other in a booth.

“I don’t think they’re together, I think they’re just friends. We should just go find out.” Mind made up, the younger twin moves in that direction without waiting for a response.

Josh remains standing alone at the bar, watching Jake introduce himself and work his charm and within moments the two women are laughing with him. How does he do that? When Jake lifts a hand and gestures toward the bar, all three heads turn in Josh’s direction. Typically comfortable under scrutiny, he suddenly feels heat bloom across his cheeks as his brother waves him over.

“There he is, ladies, this is my brother, Josh. Josh this is… Nic? Nic and Y/N. They are not on a date, I asked.”

You’re both laughing again but Josh’s eyes are drawn to you as you lift a hand to him.

“Hey Josh, it’s nice to meet you.” He’s staring blankly at your mouth until Jake, as indiscreetly as humanly possible, nudges him with an elbow prompting him to look into your eyes and take your hand in his. “Do you guys wanna join us?”

They’re both very cute, but this one seems shy compared to the long-haired one that came over first and he hasn’t let go of your hand. His brother nudges him again and he appears to shake out of a trance as the most perfect smile you’ve ever seen stretches across his face, sullied only by a small gap between his two front teeth that somehow works to make it more alluring. Holy shit. You feel your eyes go wide as you drop them to look at Nic, who is also beaming at you as she scoots farther into the booth to make room for Jake. Josh, still holding your hand delicately in his, bends as he lifts it to his lips and presses a light kiss to your fingers.

“It appears that we already are! Are you sure we’re not interrupting?”

Ah, so he does speak. His voice has a similar timbre to Jake’s but their accents are completely different. You turn to him as he settles in next to you, ignoring his question completely. “Didn’t you say you guys are brothers?”

“Ha, yeah, we’re actually twins. Identical.”

“Bullshit.” You and Nic speak in unison and Jake chuckles while Josh just grins.

“We get that a lot,” Jake offers.

They’re easy to talk to, the conversation flows alongside the drinks and when Josh opens up you find that he’s soft-spoken but an animated storyteller. He uses his hands to emphasize his points and you watch them move through the air as he works toward a punchline directed at his twin. You use the moment to take in his profile - his haircut is interesting, shaved tight on the sides while the rest of his head is covered in long fluffy curls, but it leaves his face in full view for you. It’s a really nice face. His eyes, a light amber full of warmth, find you often and they lock onto yours when you’re speaking.

Nic convinces Jake to dance with a level of persuasion only she can achieve but you can still see him insisting that he’s no good at it as they cross the room. He loses the argument as her arms loop around his neck, as soon as their bodies are touching you know he’s done for. She has that effect on men and women alike and you’ve seen this play out before, she wants him and she’ll probably have him. As your gaze lingers on the two of them, you can feel Josh’s on your face.

“So,” he clears his throat, “Y/N, um…” You’re looking at him now as he transitions back into the shy person who had first walked up to your table. This side of him is baffling, he’s really attractive and he has to know that. There’s no obvious explanation for his bashful demeanor.

“Josh, do I make you nervous?” The thought is preposterous to you. Nic is usually the one that leaves strangers speechless or stammering over their words, but now that you’re alone, a distinct light pink has crawled its way over Josh’s nose and cheeks.

“Wow, um, yeah a little? What gave it away?” He finishes with a self-deprecating chuckle that’s charming in a way. “I’m sorry, I swear I’m usually more… normal. You’re just really pretty.” Good one. He’s being truthful though, he usually has no problem talking to… anyone, really. He’d swear he’s typically confident, sometimes even attention-seeking but, “There’s just something about you.”

Hours later you were standing outside the bar waiting for your rides, an Uber for you and yet another brother on the way for the guys, Jake and Nic were tangled with one another and making out right there on the sidewalk. Josh stood in front of you with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket and an awkward grin on his lips.

“You wanna…?” His eyebrows had quirked up as he nodded his head in their direction.

Smiling back at him and speaking softly, you’d said, “Maybe next time.”

He asked for your number and promised to call.

⏰

Next time proved to be difficult to arrange, you knew it would be but it didn’t deter him. He called, just as he’d promised but your schedule left you little free time and meeting him on one of the rare nights out that you allowed yourself had been serendipitous. The calls became regular occurrences and every night, as exhaustion set in and you’d try to cover a yawn, he’d ask when he could see you again.

“I’m actually free next weekend…” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you're nervous and fidgeting with the bottom hem of your sleep shorts. He’s so easy to communicate with and eager to see you, but you’re already overthinking things and you’ve never even hung out with him one on one. The phone starts ringing against your ear and you pull it away to see a FaceTime call coming in. From Josh. Confused, you click over before considering that you’re laying in bed, freshly showered and makeup free.

“Hey?”

He’s staring at you again, lips hanging slightly open like he’s forgotten what he was going to say. It looks like he’s probably also in bed, sitting against his headboard and while you can’t see too far below where the neckline of his shirt should be, you can tell that it’s absent.

“Josh?”

“Hi, sorry,” he laughs softly, “I just didn’t think you could possibly get even more lovely.”

The warmth of the blush moves up your neck but you can feel it spread through your chest even though you’re brushing off the compliment.

“Really, you’re beautiful. Let me take you out next Saturday. Wine and dine, the whole thing.”

You can feel yourself smiling like an idiot as your head starts to nod in confirmation. “Yeah… yeah, of course. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I can pick you up and-“

“No. No, let me meet you there.” Realizing how abruptly you’ve turned him down, you lighten your tone. “After all, I hardly know you. What if you’re a psycho?” When he laughs you let yourself relax into your pillow.

“Like the film? You a Hitchcock fan?” He’s graciously moved on, happy to do things on your terms.

“I’ve actually never seen it.”

Appalled, he makes you promise that you’ll watch it together someday and soon enough you’re holding back a yawn.

“Go to bed, beautiful. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

⏰

“Oh he like likes you.” Nic is sprawled across your bed watching you pull clothes from your closet and toss them haphazardly around your room.

“Nic, he doesn’t even know me.”

“Then why do you care so much about impressing him, hm? You like him too!” Her wide grin, usually contagious, is only serving to set your nerves on edge. “And don’t tell me ‘I don’t even know him’ because that’s BS, you guys literally fall asleep on the phone together every night. You know him, at least a little.”

“Okay, I get it. We know each other. Are you actually gonna help me find something?”

Once she’s standing next to you shuffling through your hangers, you ask if she’s been talking to Jake.

“Here and there. He’s great though, amazing in bed. Did I tell you how big-“

“Yes you told me, thank you. I don’t need another recap.”

“You know what they say about twins.” She’s stopped sifting through your clothes to wag her eyebrows at you. “Just sayin’. I bet he’s working with a hors-“

“Nic!” She wards off a slap from the back of your hand and then holds a dress out to you, wiping tears of laughter from her cheeks with her other hand.

“This one’s perfect. Plus he looks like his favorite color’s green.”

As the hostess leads you to your table, you’re pleased with Nic’s choice. The restaurant’s vibe seems pretty casual and the other guests are dressed in a variety of attire. You feel comfortable, like you’re not standing out at all until your eyes meet Josh’s. As he comes into view you can tell he was already watching and waiting for you, but when he sees you walking in his direction you feel like you’re the only other person in the crowded room.

You’re suddenly ecstatic over Nic’s choice. His mouth is open again but his eyes drop from your face to your feet before they take a slow journey up your body. By the time you make it to the table, they’ve reached your eyes again and he flashes that smile. God I forgot about the smile.

He stands to greet you with a hand placed delicately at the small of your waist and the other grasping one of yours, but then he leans in and places a soft kiss to your cheek. It’s barely a brush of his lips over your skin but you weren’t expecting it, or the way you felt it jolt through your body like crackling electricity. When he pulls away your other hand comes up to place your fingertips to the spot.

“Oh…”

Hands still attached to you, he grins sheepishly with his bottom lip pulled between perfectly straight teeth. “You look… exquisite, really. Beautiful.” He drops his hold on your waist to run his hand through his hair and scratch the back of his head, shy again. “I love your dress.”

“Oh this old thing? Just threw it on.” You make a mental note to thank Nic. Exquisite is not an accolade you think you’ve ever received. He moves around you to pull your chair out and you’re pretty sure you’re hallucinating, or dreaming. Is he even real? When he’s seated across from you, you’re finally able to take in his appearance.

He’s in a white shirt again but this one has a small v at the neckline, and he’s added a long beaded necklace that ends below the edge of the table. You’re positive that ‘you’re one of the prettiest people I’ve ever seen’ is not an appropriate compliment for a grown man with a mustache, but unfortunately when you open your mouth to tell him he looks handsome, a combination of the two escapes.

“You look pretty.” A hand is clasped over your mouth immediately as your face bursts into flames, but a loud bark of laughter causes several heads to turn in his direction before he reigns it in to a silent chuckle that shakes his shoulders. “I’m so sorry, that’s not what I meant-“

“No, please don’t apologize.” His smile stretches impossibly, every equally impossibly white tooth on display. “Thank you Y/N, I feel quite pretty right now.”

A waiter appears before you can fumble through another embarrassed apology and Josh orders a bottle of wine after asking what your favorite type is. He gracefully moves past the awkward moment and suggests looking over the menu, and when the waiter returns you’re ready to order.

You quickly find that you’ve covered so much small talk in the hours you’ve spent on the phone, that you pretty much have to dive into big talk. He tells you more about his job, which sounds like a dream more so than work, and you’re enthralled by the way he speaks about making music. When he asks about your life, you’re intentionally vague since your world seems a little boring and insignificant in comparison, but he hangs onto every word.

Hours later, after you’d finished your meal and given up your table to move to the bar, you found yourselves standing outside once again. Leaning against the driver’s side of your car, you watched as Josh slowly moved closer to you and placed his hand on your waist. This time when he leaned in, you’d been hoping for it and when he kissed your cheek and pulled away, you pulled him back in and pressed your lips to his.

He’d seemed surprised for just a second, but quickly his other hand was on you and he took half a step closer. Your bodies didn’t meet but you were sure that you were feeling exactly what they describe in books and cheesy movies. You could feel it across every inch of your skin, in every cell.

Fireworks.

You felt his lips break from yours but they found you again, two more gentle touches of your skin against his before he moved away to look at you.

“I should be driving you home.” A hand had found the side of your face and settled back at the base of your neck, keeping you so close that his breath, lightly scented of grapes, had fallen over your still-tingling lips.

“Maybe next time.”

⏰

“Wait, so you didn’t fuck him?”

“Hey! You’re on speaker…”

“Sorryyy. But why not? Do you not like him anymore?”

“Nic, have you even been listening? I like him a lot. He’s like… kind of perfect, actually.” You can feel yourself making moony eyes at nothing in particular as you say it.

“So what’s the issue? Are you gonna fu- sorry, do it next time?”

Next time. Next time was already tentatively scheduled for two weekends from now, as long as nothing fell through on your end.

“I don’t know, I’m not going to plan getting laid in advance. If it feels right then, we’ll see I guess.”

“Y/N you plan your entire life in advance. And I know for a scientific fact that you haven’t gotten any since that guy… shit I don’t even remember his name. That guy you dated for like two months. That was over a year ago!”

“Yeah and I fu- I slept with him after our second date. See how well that worked out?”

“It’s not your vagina’s fault that he was an asshole. Sorry, but he was. And Josh has already been around for weeks and your date was ‘kind of perfect’ as I recall. I mean, how did he react when you told him about-“

“Ihaven’ttoldhim.” It comes out as one huff of air.

“Oh. Ohhhh no.”

“I just like him so much.” Nic can hear the sorrowful frown in your voice. “I didn’t want to ruin it… yet.”

“You need to tell him. No matter the outcome, you need to tell him. I dunno babe, I feel like Josh might surprise you.”

⏰

You let him pick you up in front of your house. Waiting at the window to see him pull up, you didn’t give him the chance to get out of the car and come to your door but he didn’t seem to mind when you hopped into his Jeep and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“I would’ve opened the door for you, ya know.”

“I’m absolutely sure that you would have, but I’m a big girl. I can handle a little car door.” He lifts the corner of his mouth in a lopsided grin as he puts it in reverse and backs out of your driveway. “So where are we going?”

“Ah, to the movies of course.”

The movies ends up being a completely empty theater. There were plenty of people in the lobby when you’d entered, but you and Josh were escorted to an auditorium where he chose seats near the top in the middle. When no other patrons trickled in after about five minutes, you turned to look at him and found mischief in his eyes.

“Josh… what’s going on here?” You circle a finger in the air, gesturing to the empty room. “What are we even seeing?”

“An American classic, my dear.” Taking your hand in his, he brings it to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of it before lacing your fingers together and resting them on his thigh. He offers no further information but as if on cue, the lights go down and you can actually hear film as it starts rolling. The screen in front of you is lit but turns black before white letters appear in the center.

PSYCHO

Snapping your head to face him again, you find the mischief is still alight in his eyes and in the grin stretching across his mouth.

“How did you…?” Your whisper trails off but he understands your confusion.

“You don’t have to whisper, really. No one else will be joining us.” He takes in the way your jaw has dropped slightly and your eyebrows are tilted upward. “I know the owner. I put in a special request, told him my girl has never seen the greatest psychological thriller of the 20th century.”

My girl. His girl.

Stunned into silence, all you can do is return his grin and snuggle into his side as the black and white film continues to roll. Familiar with the premise of the movie but having never seen it, you were appropriately shocked by the twist revealed about halfway through, much to Josh’s delight. With your head lifted from its place on his shoulder, he reaches across himself to press the tips of his fingers into your jaw and turn you to him. You feel it again when his lips, soft and searching, meet yours. The tingle spreads through your body and lands distinctly between your thighs. When you cross them in Josh’s direction, he moves his hand from your jaw to rest just above your knee as your lips separate. He watches it move higher until his fingers are squeezing the muscle and you can feel the heat radiating from your own chest.

“Come home with me when the movie’s over.”

The heat turns into a flush of slight panic and he sees it flit across your features as you pull away.

“Sorry, no, it’s no pressure. Please don’t look like that.” The panic must be more obvious than you’d hoped as you try to fix your expression into something resembling poise and confidence. “I just- shit, Y/N I’m sorry. I thought you’d want to, I thought we were-“

He’s starting to ramble but his eyes widen when you reach a hand up to cup his cheek and you run your thumb across his lips.

“Next time. Is that okay?”

“Don’t ask me that. Anything you want is okay, more than okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

The drive back to your house was comfortably silent, music playing softly through the speakers as Josh drummed his fingers against the top of the steering wheel. His other hand was in your lap, wrapped around yours. When he pulled into the driveway and put the Jeep in park, he tightened his hold on your hand before telling you to stay in the car. You watched him get out and walk around to open your door, and laughed as you hopped down into his open arms that wrapped around you as your feet hit the pavement.

At your front door, nervous that he was going to ask to come in, you’d fidgeted with the edges along the zipper of his jacket that your hands had made their way to. His own were resting at your hips as he studied your face in the glow from the porch light.

“Thank you, Josh. That was really special, and very cool. No one’s ever taken me to an exclusive private screening before.” You’d giggled as he watched your lips move in silence. “Aren’t you gonna kiss me goodnight?”

“Oh I absolutely am, after you agree to see me again. Sooner, this time?”

“I’ll try my best for sooner, maybe next weekend. I will definitely let you know. Tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it…” He’d inched closer to you, pressed his body to yours for the first time as he pulled you against him.

“Please kiss me.”

And he did. Once your lips were touching he changed his hold on you, slid a hand up your back until it was tangled in your hair and you were gripping his jacket. He hummed into the kiss, the sound pulsed through your bloodstream and you’d let a quiet moan slip out and over his skin. You felt his hand turn into a fist full of your hair before his tongue slid out and over your bottom lip. Your hips had pushed into his as your own tongue sought his out and tasted him for the first time. A groan pushed it’s way from his throat and you accepted it hungrily as your hips moved again, this time against his very obvious arousal.

“Y/N…” His voice had dropped an octave or two, his forehead rested against yours.

“Next time, Josh. Next time.”

He’d kissed you again, pressed his lips to yours with a tender kind of force before pulling away and smiling that smile at you. “I’ll see you soon. And I will talk to you tomorrow. Have a good night, beautiful.”

You watched him hop down the two steps from your porch and practically skip down the driveway.

⏰

“Hasn’t it been like, over a month? We met them,” Jake pauses to calculate the time on his fingers, “almost six weeks ago. What’s the hold up?”

“There is no ‘hold up’, we’ve only gone out twice. I’m sorry her friend skewed your expectations of women by fucking you the same night she met you.”

“Whoa whoa, first of all, don’t be sorry that I get laid more than you. Second of all, my expectations are not skewed. I respect the sexual decisions of all people, not my business.” Josh rolls his eyes and begs his brother to get to the point. “I just thought you said she seemed into you. And it’s been six weeks.”

“Since you’re so concerned, I’m seeing her again tomorrow. Here. She’s gonna come here for dinner.”

“That’s great! Wash your fucking sheets you lazy bastard.”

⏰

You’re running late on your way to Josh’s house, having gotten held up and you’re working through a string of poorly constructed excuses in your head as you exceed the speed limit as safely as possible. When he opens his front door and welcomes you inside, your worry stays on the front porch. He smiled that smile, looked so happy just to have you in his space, that you instantly forgot you’d even shown up late.

As the door closes, the click of the lock rings through the entryway and you turn to each other expectantly. You make the first move, by a fraction of a second, and your bodies collide in a tangle of limbs just before his back meets the door. The kiss is a little messy, frantic as your tongues slip against each other and your hands roam. You’ve hardly touched him the whole time you’ve known him and you're almost surprised to feel lightly sculpted muscle under his t-shirt. He hasn’t let his hands move farther than up and down the expanse of your back but his fingertips are dragging across it, you both need to feel more.

Breaking the kiss, you’re breathing heavily as you murmur, “Sorry… I’ve been thinking about that for a week.”

“Don’t ever be sorry for that. You can do that as much as you want, when ever you want. I’ve been thinking about you too.” His grin is shy and lopsided again and you get just a peek of his teeth before he kisses you again. “Kick your shoes off if you want, you can leave your bag here, get comfortable. The tour will have to wait, I’m in the middle of cooking.”

He’s cooking me dinner.

Tugging you along by your hand, he guides you through the house to the kitchen, pointing out the obvious along the way. Livingroom, hallway (there’s a bathroom down there), stairs are over there.

“It smells amazing in here, what are you making?”

“Nothing crazy, just pasta.”

Nothing crazy looked an awful lot like a whole production. Thin strips of already seared steak as well as mushrooms, garlic, and various spices are prepped along the counter and red onion is simmering in a skillet. He checks the pasta boiling on a back burner before turning back to you with a bottle of red wine.

“This is too much Josh, really. It’s so nice of you.”

“I promise you it’s nothing. Or it’s really impressive and you’re extremely turned on by my culinary talents right now. Want a drink?”

“Yes please.” Taking a seat at his kitchen island, you watch him pour two glasses of wine. “We’ll have to wait until I taste it before I decide if it’s nothing or if I’m extremely turned on.”

He laughs with you but the truth is, you’ve been thrumming at a low frequency of arousal for the last week. The memory of your last kiss on your porch has been on heavy rotation, especially at night after you’ve just hung up the phone with him. You’d considered just taking care of it, several times, but you’ve been sure about your decision to take things further and concluded that you wanted your next orgasm not to be self-induced.

It’s been a long week.

Holding a glass out to you, Josh is staring like he’s trying to read your thoughts. You think letting him in a little could be fun.

“Thank you.” He smiles brightly before taking a sip from his own glass and setting it down to turn back to the stove. “Do you always work this hard when a girl already wants to sleep with you?”

His hand, stirring the noodles, comes to an abrupt stop as he whips his head to look at you over his shoulder. He takes a moment to formulate a response, but you haven’t rattled him as much as you hoped. “Only for the exceptionally captivating ones, mama.”

You sputter around the sip you’d just taken.

Turning back to the food, he just chuckles softly. “Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it, my dear.”

The meal was close to complete in no time and you chat easily while he cooks. In moments of silence, he hums quietly and continues to add ingredients and stir, and as you watch his back move and flex beneath his shirt you realize he’s not using a recipe. It’s kind of sexy.

With a flourish, he wipes his hands with a towel from the counter and lifts them above his head as he tosses it back to the marble. “It is done!”

Clapping your hands softly and focusing on the strip of skin exposed by his lifted shirt, you congratulate him on his performance as he starts to plate the meal. At his wooden dining table, he pulls out a chair for you and waits until you’re seated to lean down and place a soft kiss to your lips. Once he’s sitting next to you, enough distance between your chairs so he can look at you easily, he smirks and raises an eyebrow.

“Moment of truth. Try it!”

He watches closely as you bring the fork to your mouth and close your lips around it. For effect, you pull it out slowly but the moment your eyes roll back in your head is not an act. After you’ve swallowed, which he also watched as if hypnotized, you take a sip of wine before speaking.

“I’m extremely turned on right now. Josh this is so fucking good! Do you cook a lot?”

His expression shows that he’s very pleased with himself, but his cheeks turn pink under your praise. “I do when I’m home and have the time, gotta keep things interesting. I’ve been working on perfecting this particular dish for a couple of years though… I’m glad it’s garnered the desired reaction.”

It doesn’t take long for both of your plates to be cleaned but you stay at the table slowly emptying the bottle of wine. Comfortable and satisfied, you’ve got a foot up in your chair, chin resting on your knee as you chat and Josh has put on music from his phone that’s bleeding out of some strategically placed and well hidden speakers.

“You strike me as a physical format type of guy when it comes to music. Don’t you have a record player or something around here somewhere?”

“Ha, I actually have three.” He’s not boasting, just stating a fact and also proving you correct. “I enjoy the concept of playlists though, creating a certain setting or mood appeals to me.”

At that moment, the silence of the last song’s ending is filled with soft acoustic guitar playing a familiar tune. Josh’s eyes instantly go soft as a wistful smile appears. Not wanting to disrupt the moment too much, you speak at a volume just above a whisper, “I love this song…”

He’s out of his chair instantly with a hand held out to you. “Dance with me?”

When you take his hand in yours, you’re pulled up into his arms that circle your waist as his palms meet your back. Looping your own arms around his neck, he moves in so that your cheeks are touching as he gently begins to sway. You’re not expecting it when he starts to sing along softly, his breath tickling over the shell of your ear.

Let me give my life to you

Let me drown in your laughter

Let me die in your arms

Let me lay down beside you

Let me always be with you

He seems to purposefully only hum the next few lines, taking the opportunity to press his lips to your hair before singing the rest as you continue to shift back and forth, wrapped in each other.

You fill up my senses

Like a night in a forest

Like the mountains in springtime

Like a walk in the rain

Like a storm in the desert

Like a sleepy blue ocean

You fill up my senses

Come fill me again

As the final notes float through the room, he kisses over your hair again before pulling back to look at you. The emotion swimming in your eyes is obvious and your pupils are blown wide, his own eyes bounce from yours then down to your lips and back.

“Josh…” Your mind is racing with thoughts that you know you need to speak out loud, this feels bigger than yourself but you can’t bring your mouth to form the words. Not yet. “Take me to bed…”

He doesn’t question it. He’s been sure that you’re exactly what he wants and he thinks you’re sure of it too, so he simply leads you to the stairs that he’d pointed out earlier and prompts you to ascend ahead of him. As you reach the top he moves you along with a palm against your lower back but at his open bedroom door, he pauses before guiding you through.

“You’re sure?” He feels like he knows the answer but couldn’t live with himself if he pressured you into it.

In response you take the lead and turn, pulling him into the room by the front of his shirt and into your body as your hands frame his face and then slip back into the curls at the base of his neck. He reaches back for the wall, searching for the light switch and you’re eternally grateful when it activates only a warm glow from two lamps equipped with Edison bulbs on either side of his bed.

“Interesting mood lighting you’ve got here, Josh.”

“Ehh, I don’t like harsh overhead light in my room. Ruins the energy.”

You’re giggling against his grin as you pull him into a kiss that quickly turns serious, and he moves you backwards until the backs of your knees meet the mattress. Lifting a leg, you move back over the surface then sink into it without hesitation and keep your grip on his shirt so his body follows, landing on top of yours. Held up by his hands pressed into the comforter on either side of your head, looking down at you with all sincerity, he asks if he can touch you.

Reaching up and circling his wrist next to your face, you guide his hand to move over your shoulder and down your chest until it reaches the bottom hem of your shirt that’s just barely ridden up your stomach. Once his fingertips meet the skin there, he takes over and slides his palm under your shirt and over your ribs until he’s got a handful of your breast. As he runs his thumb over the thin material covering your nipple, you answer.

“Everywhere. Touch me everywhere.”

He’d like to take his time, watch as every inch of your skin is revealed to him, but he’s been waiting for this. He’ll go slow next time.

Your shirt is being tugged up your body and you both shift to allow him to pull it over your head before you do the same to his. Leaned back and settled onto his knees, his chest is rising and falling with his breath as he tosses it to the floor to land next to yours. You let your eyes roam over each other for a moment before he’s leaned over you again and trailing his lips from your neck down to your clavicle. Propped up on one elbow, he lets his other hand explore your chest again, running fingers over the lacy material covering them before tentatively squeezing your breast. His hips move into yours involuntarily when you let a whimper slip out into the air next to his ear, but then he’s shifting his body to the side, next to you but still pressed fully against you. He captures your lips with his own as his hand slides down over your rib cage again and his fingertips meet the waist of your jeans.

Mouths still moving against each other’s, you nod your head in encouragement but he breaks the kiss to look at you.

You think he’s going to ask again but instead he moves his gaze down your bared torso until it lands where he’s touching you, and he watches as he pops the button and pulls the zipper down and skips touching you over your panties. His fingers delve past the lace and he groans as they skim over the little bit of hair there before landing on the soft skin of your core. When his eyes snap back to yours, you nod again as you shift and use your hands to push the denim past your hips and down your thighs until you can wiggle the jeans down and kick them to the floor.

His hand remains still, just cupped against you as you bend a knee and let your leg fall aside just enough that he can feel you spreading open to him under his fingers. Moving them, they slip through the arousal that’s pooled there and he bites back another groan.

“Fuck baby…” He slips them through again before moving them up and swirling a soft circle over your clit, your back arches off the bed. “So sensitive,” he chuckles lowly at your body’s reaction before circling over it again, “You want more?”

One of your palms is splayed out in the center of his chest but the other is gripping the bicep of the arm that’s extended over you. “Please, I’m gonna cum.” You’re not faking it, not being dramatic. The pent up sexual energy already feels like it’s threatening to spill over and while you’re not surprised in the slightest, his eyebrows have lifted in amused shock.

“Baby I’ve barely touched you.”

“Keep touching me.”

His fingers dip down to circle through the wetness at your entrance before he pushes one slowly past it. Your fingernails are digging into his arm, sure to leave tiny crescent-shaped marks on his otherwise flawless skin and he can feel your body clenching around his finger inside you as he pumps it slowly.

“Relax, I’ve got you.”

You try, you really do, and he can feel the tension release but as soon as he slips a second one inside, your body reacts the same way. He figures if it’s gonna happen, he should just enjoy it so he presses his palm over your clit while his fingers move and curl, buried deep. Your back has left the mattress again, he admires the way your skin stretches over your ribs for a moment before leaning down for a kiss. When his lips meet yours, your hand flies from his arm to the base of his neck to keep him there as your tongue begs for an entrance that he welcomes. Your hips are moving to meet the gentle thrust of his fingers, but he slides them from your cunt to press them to your clit again. He swallows the cry that rips from your throat, hums into it as he draws tight circles into your sensitive skin. His kiss moves from your lips to your cheek and when he reaches your ear he whispers, “Let go for me.”

The soft command grips your body and pulls you under. The string of oh and fuck and Josh spilling from your lips on repeat shoots straight to his dick and he’s silently praying that he’ll figure out a way to hear those words tumble from your mouth every day for the rest of his life. His fingers, swirling slowly against you, come to a stop as your body sinks back into the mattress and the fist curled into his hair releases its hold.

Your body is flushed and you can feel the heat on your chest and your cheeks, and when you’re able to crack your eyes open the sight of him is something to behold. The warm amber of his irises has almost completely disappeared around the deep black of his pupils, he looks drunk, and hungry, intoxicated and starving for more. Before he pulls his hand from your underwear he swipes his two fingers through your release, then brings them up to his mouth without thinking twice about it. You watch his lips, pink and perfectly shaped, close around them and his eyelids flutter the way yours had at your first taste of the meal he’d prepared.

When he pops his fingers out, he mumbles, “Next time. Next time, I need you to do that on my mouth.”

“Next time…”

Silence falls over the room and he lets his fingers trail over your skin, from your chest and over the lace of your bra, then down to circle around your navel. As soon as he’s paying closer attention to your stomach, it tenses and you hope he won’t notice your reaction but of course, he does.

“Sensitive everywhere huh?” His lips are stretched into a grin and you allow his question to be the explanation.

“Yeah… Josh?” His reply is a soft hum. “Are you gonna fuck me now?”

It sounds vulgar coming from your mouth, but he feels his heart rate speed up and blood rush to his dick again.

“No.” He answers simply.

“No?”

“No. It’ll be a little more romantic than that, I think.”

With that, he rolls and stands from the bed and you scoot yourself up to the pillows as you watch him move to undo the button at the waist of his pants. The muscles of his arms and chest bunch and flex as he moves, his stomach tenses when he pushes the fabric over his hips and it drags over… oh.

Nic was right.

Still covered by the cotton of his briefs, his dick is hard and sitting to the right, and it’s… impressive. He looks up to find your eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. He’s not unused to that reaction but something about it being you causes his dick to twitch under your stare and he reaches a hand down to rub his palm over it. The small groan that passes his lips snaps you out of it and you look him in the face, expecting some kind of cocky grin or retort.

“Stop looking at me like that or I’ll get a complex.”

Of course he finds the humor in the situation, but you’re a little intimidated. You decide to be honest about it, “We can’t have that. Um, Josh?”

He’s slipped his thumbs under the elastic at the top of his underwear, about to pull them down but he pauses. “Hm?”

“I haven’t- um… it’s been a while, since…”

Understanding softens his features and he smiles as he abandons removing his briefs and kicks his pants from his ankles before crawling onto the bed. “Do you… wanna stop?”

“No. I don’t. Just…”

“I’ll be careful with you, gorgeous girl. I promise.” He crawls over your body, knees straddling one of your thighs and presses a kiss to your forehead before placing another on your lips. When your arms circle him and your hands skim over the smooth skin of his back, he shifts his knee until it’s resting against you between your thighs. Your hips move, grinding your still covered pussy over him but he makes no further moves even as you whine into the kiss.

“Mm, do you wanna take these off?” A fingertip is running along the top of your underwear and dips just below it. You nod your head and he pushes himself up to slide them down your legs, trailing their journey down with his eyes until they slip past your toes and he tosses them away. His hands take that journey back up and when they reach your knees, he gently pushes them apart. He only lets his gaze linger on your bare cunt for a moment before he raises it to your face and asks if you want your bra off too. When you nod again he smiles and pulls you to sit up, reaches around you and unclasps it expertly with one hand. You let it fall forward, nervous for him to see every part of you but when you pull it away and toss it to the floor his eyes light up.

“Undeniably worth the wait, my pretty, pretty girl. You get more lovely every time I look at you.”

“I wanna see you too.”

He flashes that smile, wide and bright. “By all means, my dear.” He gestures down to his body with both hands.

You scramble to reach for the waist of his underwear, impatient and embarrassed that he’d felt the need to stop removing them just to soothe your nerves. Tugging them down his hips and over the length of him, his cock springs up once it’s freed but hangs heavy between you.

“Oh my god.” You hadn’t meant to say it out loud but it’s out there now so you figure you might as well go with it. “I know I’m not the first person to tell you this but… you’re kind of perfect, everywhere.” He responds with a sharp laugh and before you can get your hands on him he pushes you softly back to the pillows and begins to push the fabric the rest of the way down to his knees. Once he’s wriggled out of them he kicks the briefs away, the last piece to join the clothing’s now scattered over his bedroom floor. Lying across his bedding, spread out for him, wet and waiting, he wonders over how it is that you still look so innocent and completely untainted.

“You look like a flower.” You lift an eyebrow in question alongside a hand to coax him back to you, which he accepts. When his body is hovering over yours again, his dick nestled between your thighs and resting against the slick moisture coating your flesh there, he leans in closer to whisper, “Soft and pink, delicate and naturally beautiful. You look like a flower. My flower.”

You crane your neck to capture his lips, and he kisses you back firmly, pushing you back into his pillows. Snaking a hand down between your bodies, you run it over his stomach until you reach the base of him, wrapping your fingers around him. A soft hmph huffs against your mouth at the contact, the first time you’ve touched him there. You’ve hardly touched him at all but he doesn’t seem to mind right now as you’re guiding him to your cunt and the head of him is nudging you, begging for entry. He reaches down to replace your hand with his, rubs himself through your arousal before asking if you’re ready.

“So ready, please…”

Slowly, so so slowly, he pushes into you. As your hands move up his arms and over his shoulders he keeps his eyes on your face, searching for any sign that he should stop, but he doesn’t find one as he rocks his hips and eases in inch by inch.

“Jesus, flower, you’re so fucking tight. Relax for me.”

“I am relaxed, keep going…”

Not sure that you’re telling the truth, but positive that you can handle him, he thrusts into you to the hilt.

“Fuck!” You can’t help it yelping out of you but there’s nothing but pleasure behind it.

Throat tight, he asks if you’re okay and you’re quickly assuring him with a nod of your head, soft words of confirmation and finally pulling him in to connect your lips. You move your hips, encouraging him to do the same and the drag against your walls as he pulls back draws a low moan from deep in your chest. His thrust back into you knocks the air from your lungs and your mouths part as you gasp to get it back.

He rests his forehead against yours as he moves inside you, settling into a slow rhythm of deep strokes that are lighting you up from the inside out.

“So fucking good, you feel so good Jesus fuck,” his typical eloquence leaves the room as you squeeze around him. “Mm tell me, let me hear you.” He delivers a harder thrust, punching a string of expletives past your lips. Instantly drunk on your hazy murmurings, he picks up the speed of his hips until your legs wrap themselves around him and a heel is digging into the flesh high on his backside.

“Just like that, it’s perfect, perfect…” He doesn’t change a thing as you trail off, but your own hips are pushing into his and the sounds of skin meeting skin are echoing through his room.

“Gonna move, just a little bit. Need to see you.” When your head nods he pushes up from you, the skin of your chests audibly separates, a thin layer of sweat having formed between you. Hovering over you, you watch his eyes move down your body but they stop and focus on your chest, tits bouncing with every thrust of his hips. When he moves lower and realizes the view he wants is still obstructed, he lifts further and settles back on his heels, hands wrapped around the small of your waist and pulling you into him. Now he can see everything, but what he’s interested in rests between your legs and he zeroes in on it. His eyes squeeze shut as he shakes his head, like he’s trying to wake up but when they open he’s still watching your pussy suck him in, over and over again.

“God, look at you. Taking it all, I knew you could. A perfect fit, fuck…” His words have you clenching around him. “So good for me, perfect.” He lifts his eyes to your face and finds your eyes closed and mouth open, soft sounds of your pleasure floating from it. “Look at me, beautiful.”

You obey, opening your eyes and instantly moaning a low oh my god at the vision above you. You’ve never seen anything like him, he’s definitely meant to be naked, every inch of him is flawless. His normally fluffy curls have gone loose, damp and sticking across his forehead and his jaw is clenched tight even as he smiles at your expression.

You let your gaze roam over his chest to his stomach, the muscles there are tight as he pumps his hips into you. The v that leads down to where you’re connected stands out, the low light from either side of the bed casting perfect shadows.

“How- ohh… how are you real?” The thing you’ve been wondering for weeks leaves your throat as a whining question.

“Mm, I’m real, my flower. Don’t you feel me everywhere? Here?” One of his hands moves from your waist and comes to rest flat against the skin under your navel, pressing into it. You confirm, yes yes I feel you, and he moves his hand higher, skimming it up your stomach and the center of your chest and letting it land there, over your heart.

“Here? Do you feel me here too?”

You do, you know you’ve been holding him there since well before your first date, your first kiss.

“Yes, yes Josh. I feel you there.”

His expression goes soft and wistful, as it had downstairs before he’d asked you to dance. “I feel it too. I think before I even spoke to you…” The rhythm of his hips has slowed again as he lets himself get lost in his feelings for you. “There’s just something about you…”

One of your hands that have been anchored to him wrapped around his forearms, moves to rest over his on your chest, you want to remember this moment exactly how it is. Just you and him, bodies connected and letting yourselves admit that something more has been happening here. Lacing your fingers together, you’re gripping this moment tight because you know it’ll change, and soon. You pull his hand up to your lips and place kisses to his knuckles before moving it down your body until you’re pressing it into your mound, just above where he’s still moving when gentle purpose.

“Touch me, make me cum. I wanna cum for you, give you everything.” You can feel his cock pulse inside you before he starts thrusting against the backs of your thighs harder and faster again, and he slips his thumb to run over the slick arousal that’s spread over your skin. As soon as he swirls it over your clit, your back leaves the bed.

“Are you always so… responsive?”

Breathless from the emotion and burning under his touch you tell him no, it’s him, it’s all him. The words squeeze his heart and he feels you fluttering around his cock as he adds just a little pressure to his movements over your flesh. “Yes just like that, just like that, I’m there Josh. Don’t stop!”

“Give it to me, beautiful. So pretty when you let go.”

Your body obeys, the explosion of colors behind your eyelids when they snap shut is just like him. Bright and consuming, all that you can see and feel around you as everything else disappears.

Above you, he watches you writhe against his pillows, feels your cunt clench around him impossibly tighter, basks in the sweet curses rolling off your tongue. He’s hanging on by a thread to his own release, fucking into you softly as yours moves through you. When your legs slip from around his hips and your feet hit the bed, he whispers a request for you to open your eyes and look at him again.

You can barely hear him over the buzz in your head, but as soon as you can crack your eyes open and focus on him he’s pulling out of you quickly and stroking himself over you. You watch his mouth fall open as he spills over, his hot release hitting your stomach and pooling there. When the last of it lands below your navel he whimpers before he pulls his hand away and takes a few heaving breaths. You open your mouth to speak but he leans over you and swallows your words, lips and tongues pushed together and bringing your pairing to a soft closing.

He lets his body drop and tucks his face into the crook of your neck, unconcerned about the mess now trapped between you. As you bring a hand up to run over the dampened curls at the back of his neck, he speaks into your skin, “Absolutely worth the wait. I’d wait a thousand lifetimes for you.”

You think it might be a poetic version of the truth, and it’s heart wrenching. Your feelings are the same but you’ve been hiding a part of yourself that you should’ve revealed the first time you met. Now is not the moment, and you’re not sure exactly when the right time could possibly present itself, too far gone. Resigning to the fact that as perfect as this feels, you’re going to ruin it soon, you decide to let it wait. Just a little longer.

Josh eventually, begrudgingly lifted himself from you and left to clean up, returning with a warm cloth to do the same for you. He asked you to stay and you agreed, but told him you had to leave in the morning, you have to meet someone sort of early. Not questioning it, he settled you both under his comforter and pulled you close, lulling you into sleep with kisses pressed into your hair.

⏰

You wake up before him, the sun is already high in the sky and you can tell by the way it’s streaming across his face when you open your eyes.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

Jolting up, you leave the bed without bothering to wake him or attempting not to, plucking your clothes up from around his room and tossing them onto the bed as you find them. When he sits up and finds you pulling your shirt over your head, the rest of you already clothed, he asks what time it is.

“I slept too late Josh, I have to pick up Sam-“

“Wait, what? You have to pick up Sam? Why are you picking up my brother?”

Oh god.

“Not your brother. Josh I don’t have time for this, I have to go.” He watches you leave his room as he jumps out of bed to find his pants, tugging them on as he follows you. You’re almost at the front door when his hand wraps around your arm.

“Y/N stop. Talk to me. Who is Sam?” His eyebrows are knitted together as he searches your face for an answer. “What’s going on?”

You let your head fall back as you stare at the ceiling, willing the right words to come to you. None of the words you come up with are going to make this any easier, a defeated sigh floats from your lips and up into the air before you face him. He looks confused, obviously, but there’s a little bit of fear in his eyes.

“I’m sorry…” It’s hardly a whisper, you’re not sure you even said it but the fear behind his eyes slips into sadness.

“Y/N… please just tell me what is happening here. I’m very confused.”

“Sam is my son.”

His hold on your arm loosens until his hand falls to his side. He’s studying your face as if your expression will bring him some clarity but he only finds regret there. “What?”

“I have a kid. His name is Sam. Ironically enough.”

Now that you’ve repeated it, it’s sinking in. “You have a child.”

You wonder how many times you’ll each have to say it out loud before he’s kicking you out of his house. “I do. And he is my whole world, Josh. Or he was, until I met you.”

He shakes his head and huffs out a sardonic laugh. “And you didn’t think I should know about that? You didn’t think you should tell me that before I let myself fall for you?” It chokes you into silence, the hurt tightens your throat and burns your eyes as your vision blurs. “I think you should go. Go get Sam…”

You turn and walk out the door before he can see you cry.

⏰

How many times can a toddler ask you why you're sad before you have a full mental breakdown? You’re pretty sure you’ll soon find out, Sam is too smart for his own good and too intuitive for yours.

Josh hasn’t called. You haven’t spoken to him in weeks and all you could do was fall back into your regular routine of wake up, drop Sam off at daycare, work, pick him up, playtime, dinnertime, bathtime, bedtime. Every day, and Josh hasn’t called. Hasn’t texted. Hasn’t asked his brother to ask your friend how you’re doing. It’s been over two weeks.

⏰

“You’re being a fucking idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You’re being stupid.”

“Jake she lied to me. And not something small, she failed to tell me about an entire human life that she created. A whole child. For months.”

They’ve already had several versions of this conversation. Josh had called his brother the same day that you’d left his house, screaming incoherently about sex and lies and Sam but before Jake could make any sense of it his twin was crying over the line.

He’s pissed off, sure, but more than anything he’s hurting. Jake had told him to reach out to you, to clear the air, and most importantly to apologize for shutting you out.

“I get it, Josh. I do, I fully comprehend why you’re upset. But correct me if I’m wrong, you have feelings for her, yes?” Josh, head in his hands propped up on elbows rested on his knees, grumbles a confirmation. “And you miss her. You’ve been moping around here for weeks. What’s the issue?”

Snapping his head up to face his twin, he throws an incredulous look in his direction. “What’s the issue? She hid him from me. I had no fucking clue. I’m sitting here building a fucking life with her in my head and I don’t even know her.”

Jake nods in understanding, turning Josh’s words over in his head before responding. “So it’s not that she has a kid, it’s that she didn’t tell you.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious right now. Yes, she deliberately lied to me.”

“You like kids.” Josh just shakes his head, suddenly infuriated with how flippant his brother is being over something that he deems extremely serious. “You actually love kids. Everybody knows that.”

“Your point?”

“Like I said, you’re being an idiot. Do you love her?”

Josh sits up and leans back in his chair, scrubs his hands over his face then runs his fingers over his mustache before scratching at his chin. “Yeah, I think I do, but-“

“And you don’t think you could love her child? Why? Because he’s not yours?”

“I never said that. It has nothing to do with-“

“Stop being stupid about this. Call her.”

⏰

The days crawled by, each one the same aside from nights that Nic would come over for dinner, help you put Sam to bed and then sit with you for hours. Filling the empty time that you used to spend on the phone with Josh.

Tonight is not one of those nights, and you’re sitting in front of your tv as some mindless reality show drones on. You almost jump out of your skin when your phone starts ringing on the table in front of you, but your heart is hammering in your chest when you pick it up to see Josh on the screen. It’s a picture you took of him at the bar on your first date, he’s leaned on one elbow over the bartop, smiling that smile, cheeks rosy and eyes focused beyond the camera lens. Focused on you.

You almost miss it, your hesitation to answer losing out right before it can go to voicemail.

“Hello?” You’re met with silence, he doesn’t answer right away and you think maybe he’s called accidentally, phone in his pocket as he’s out living his life without you. “Josh?”

“God, it’s so good to hear your voice.” His own sounds constricted, tight with emotion though you can’t imagine why. He cut you off and you’ve wallowed in your own misery alone.

“What do you want?” You can’t help but cut to the point, almost angry that he’d dare reach out and open with a line akin to I miss you.

“Just to talk. I know I should’ve called you sooner. Actually, I know I shouldn’t have even let you leave. Not like that… Y/N I’m so sorry.”

“You’re right. You should’ve called.” You know he had every right to be upset with you, but to go weeks with complete radio silence and call out of the blue with an apology seems too little, too late.

“I’m actually outside.”

You’re on your feet and moving to the window before you respond, and you move the curtain aside to find his Jeep in the driveway. “Go home, Josh. Now is not the time, Sam’s here and he’s asleep- actually I don’t owe you a reason. Just go home.”

He immediately does the opposite and you watch him climb out of his car and walk toward your porch. “Come outside and talk to me. Please, flower.” By the time he says it, he’s looking at you through the window with pleading eyes.

You sigh deeply before ending the call.

When you step out onto the porch you can see him fighting the urge to touch you, and you keep your body close to the closed door behind you.

Looking you over, he takes in your outfit, sweatpants and a hoodie, your hair tied up in a knot at the top of your head, eyes tired and a little sad. Also a little angry. “Beautiful as always.”

Unfortunately his words have the same effect on you that they always have, and you feel a blush creep over your cheeks. “Don’t. Please just say what you need to say.”

“Okay…” He takes a deep breath and you know he’s about to deliver a monologue. It’s just how he is, so you try to mentally prepare yourself but anything you could’ve expected is tossed aside immediately.

“To say I reacted poorly would be an understatement. I hope you can understand that my complete shock was not unfounded, I’m sure you know that. But you may not know exactly why I was surprised to find out that you’re a mother, especially after hours, and hours spent getting to know you.” He pauses to take another deep breath, you nod at him to continue and he inches just barely closer to you.

“I thought I knew you already. I spent a lot of time thinking about you, when we weren’t together or on the phone, I was thinking of you constantly. Dreaming of you. I’ve always dreamt of you. I think that’s why I was so drawn to you when we met… I’ve known you in my dreams for years.”

He’s taken a full step closer to you now, his fingertips are aching to reach out and touch you but he doesn’t. Not yet.

“The problem is, in my dreams we built this fantasy life together. The whole thing, we fall in love, a whirlwind romance really and you let me whisk you away. Travel the world with me, do everything you could’ve ever imagined. We have babies, if you want them, and they’re perfect little manifestations of our love.”

You haven’t moved from your spot, arms crossed as he speaks but silent tears have spilled over onto your cheeks and you let them fall, dropping to the ground at your feet. His fantasy of you is exactly that, and it’s something you could never give him. Not the way he’s imagined it.

His hands come up to cup your face and he moves in until the toes of his shoes are touching your slippers. You let him wipe your tears away with his thumbs and he keeps your jaw cradled in his hands as he continues.

“Now the other problem is, when you told me about him, about Sam, I suddenly felt like I didn’t know you at all. Like you had kept such a big part of yourself from me, that that life I had dreamed of was impossible. It took awhile but I’ve realized something.”

He wants you to speak, to let him know that you need to hear his next words.

“What?” It whispers past your lips and he leans in to press his against them. You can’t help but to kiss him back. When it breaks, he rests his forehead against yours and continues.

“I’ve fallen in love with you, my beautiful girl. My flower. And I could love him too, if you give me the chance. How could I not love every part of you?”

You release a sobbing breath and he pulls back to look at you. “Please stop crying, I don’t want you to cry anymore. Not because of me.”

“It’s just not that easy Josh.”

“It can be. Let me try. How old is he?”

“What?”

“How old is Sam?”

You can feel him trying, he wants to know more so you wipe your tears and give him more. “He’s three. Three and a half, really.”

“Three… it’s a good age. You know, Jake started playing guitar at three. Prodigy, that one.” It makes you laugh, exactly as he’d hoped. “Y/N… will you give me the chance to show you? I can do this, I want to.”

“Okay…”

“Okay?” There it is, that smile, perfectly imperfect and wide and bright and all for you.

“Yeah… yeah. On one condition.” He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head. “Kiss me again and then go home. And I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Oh absolutely, my dear.”

⏰

“What have you told him about me?”

You’re sitting across from Josh at a table in the same restaurant he’d chosen for your first date. His curiosity makes you chuckle.

“I already told you, he still doesn’t know what a boyfriend is. No concept whatsoever.” Boyfriend. He grins like a little kid every time you say it, and it’s probably why he asked, again, if you’d talked to Sam about him. “He’s seen pictures of you. He knows your name, and knows I spend time with you when he’s at grandma’s house. He also knows that you like movies and you play the vocals, as requested.”

“When can I meet him?” Ah, that question. Though you’ve technically been with Josh for almost four months, you’re still not sure what the right answer is.

“Soon, I think. Maybe you can… I don’t know, go to the park with us or something. I just don’t want to confuse him too much, babe.”

Satisfied for the moment, he leans back in his chair and smirks at you over the table. “Ya know, if you’d let him get to know me, I wouldn’t have to sneak into your house after bedtime to fuck his pretty mama while she bites the pillows to keep quiet.”

“Josh! You’re disgusting.” You feign offense but you’re laughing with him as you throw your napkin at his face.

When you leave the restaurant, he drives you home and follows you inside. You lead him through the house, past the scattered Hot Wheels, monster trucks and Legos that tend to litter the floor of your living room, into your bedroom where he lets you undress him slowly. With your lips wrapped around him, cock nudging the back of your throat, he reminds you that he loves you. When his tongue is lapping at you, softly drawing you nearer and nearer to release, he shows you that he loves you.

When he’s buried inside you, whispering praise into your ear, calling you his flower, a goddess, you feel that he loves you.

⏰

One more month. You gave it one more month before you told Sam you were going to meet Josh at the park.

“Josh at the park!” He’s going through a phase where he repeats everything you say.

“Yep! Remember, Josh is mommy’s boyfriend. Is that okay?”

“Mommy’s boyfwiend is okay. Go outside?”

His beautiful one-track mind makes you giggle. “Yes sweet boy, let’s go outside.”

You’d told Josh where to meet you, instructed him on how to approach your child, coached him on what to say.

“Flower, I love kids. I myself am just a slightly bigger kid. I can handle this.”

Nervous as you make your way to the park, hauling Sam behind you in a red wagon, you think that maybe you should call Josh and remind him of what to do. On cue, your phone starts to ring in your back pocket and you stop walking to keep your eyes on Sam as you answer.

“Hey babe, we’re almost there.”

“I thought you might be. Do me a favor?”

“What’s up?”

“Tell him I’m excited to meet him, and stop worrying. It’s gonna be great.”

“You’re right. I know you’re right. I’ll tell him. We’ll be there in a few.”

“See you soon, my love.”

Minutes later you’re rolling the wagon to a stop next to a red and blue bench and Sam is already bounding out of it and toward the slides. You know you don’t have to worry about him on the smaller ones but you hesitate to sit down, preferring to stand a little closer to the playground just in case. When a pair of hands come to rest on your shoulders, you grin as Josh leans into your ear and immediately asks where is he? Having seen hundreds of pictures and videos of Sam, he easily spots him amongst the few children begrudgingly taking turns going up and then coming down the slides when you point in their direction.

“Can I go, mama?”

He’s literally vibrating with excitement, you can feel it in his palms that have moved to hold onto your upper arms.

“Go ahead. Have fun!”

He presses a kiss to your cheek and then whispers against it, “I love you. Thank you.”

With that he leaves you, and you watch closely as your worlds are about to collide. Josh approaches the playground casually, and waits until Sam comes down the slide. Crouching down on one knee, he waves your baby over to him and the only part of the conversation you can overhear is the very start.

“Josh at the park!”

You smile as your vision clouds and you blink the tears away before they can fall.

When Sam reaches him, Josh smiles brightly. “Hey Sam, I’m Josh.”

“Mommy’s boyfwiend Josh.”

“That’s right, that’s me! It is sooooo nice to meet you, bud.”

“Nice to meet you bud.” Josh chuckles, remembering what you’ve said about how he repeats things in lieu of actually replying.

“Hey, Sam. Do you think I could play with you for a bit?”

“Play on the swide?”

“Yeah, can I go down the slide with you?”

“Go down the swide Josh! C’mon!” Sam reaches for Josh’s hand and grabs onto two fingers before tugging at it. Josh stands and let’s him “pull” him to the steps, looking back at you over his shoulder. His eyes find yours as you flick a stray tear away with your finger tips and smile. He uses his free hand to give you a thumbs up before he’s being pushed by the backs of his knees to climb steps.

You watch your son push your boyfriend up the tiny steps to go down the slide ahead of him. Josh is laughing when he comes down, the trip especially short for a grown man, even a rather small one. When he reaches the bottom, he turns and squats at the end of the slide, and you watch with fresh tears in your eyes as your baby lands in Josh’s arms. He’s wrapped up and lifted into them, smiles stretched across both of their faces and you can hear Josh’s raspy laughter mixing with Sam’s giggles that you love so much.

What you can’t hear, when Josh shifts Sam onto his hip and points in your direction, is Josh telling him, “Hey buddy, let’s go see your mommy real quick. She looks like she needs a big hug.”

Josh sets him down and he runs to you, arms wide open so you kneel to meet him with open arms of your own. Over his tiny shoulder, you watch Josh walk toward you both, hands shoved into the pockets of his pants and a soft grin on his lips.

“Mommy needed a big hug.”

You pull away to look at your son, his face so similar to your own, for which you’ve been grateful for the last almost four years. “Yeah baby, I did need a hug. You give the best hugs.”

“Are you sad?”

“Not at all, I’m very happy. Are you having fun on the slides?”

“Fun with Josh on the swide. Josh is fun!”

You look up at him, a man you’d completely underestimated, and find him swiping his fingers over his cheeks and grinning that sweet lopsided grin. Eyes still on Josh, you reply, “He is fun isn’t he? Go play some more sweetheart, I need to talk to Josh for a minute. Then we can go on the swings.”

“I go on the swings!” Sam repeats your words before bouncing away, past Josh and back to the slide.

Josh steps forward and offers his hand to pull you to your feet. “I told you it would be fine. He’s so great, Y/N, really.”

You keep his hand in yours and pull him to sit with you on the bench, with your eyes still focused in the direction of the playground. “He’s really special. I- um, his dad has never been in the picture. Didn’t want anything to do with either of us when I told him I was pregnant.”

Josh hasn’t ever asked for further information on Sam’s father. It was clear that he wasn’t involved, your mom and sometimes Nic being the only people you ever mention helping you with him, but this admission only further solidifies what he’d already been feeling. He squeezes the hand that’s clasped in his, his eyes also on your son. “I’m here. Look at me, just for a second.” You both pull your eyes from the playground to look into each other’s. “I love you. Don’t you think I can take care of you? Both of you?”

“I love you too… Josh this is a big thing you’re offering, I don’t think you understand how big. He’s… not yours. You don’t have to-“

“Hm, that’s where you’re wrong, my beautiful girl. My beautiful girl, you are mine to love and take care of, yeah?” He waits for you to confirm, which you do with a nod of your head. “Then he’s mine too.”

Hours later, after many trips down the slide, careful pushes on the swing and lots of baby giggles, Sam began yawning and showing Josh another side of himself. He’d gotten easily upset with another child over whose turn it was to scramble up the tiny climbing wall, and when you’d reminded him that he needs to share, he’d yelled a frustrated no in your face. You knew what needed to be done but Josh seemed to know as well, and he’d scooped Sam up into his arms.

“Hey buddy, I think it’s time to go home and chill out. Let’s go, what do you think?”

Rubbing his eyes, Sam had said, “What do you fink?”

“That’s what I thought you’d say. Let’s go home.”

“Josh go home too.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna take you home.”

He moved toward the bench, you thought he was going to place Sam down in the wagon but he grabbed the handle and started to pull it toward where his Jeep was parked.

“Josh you can’t drive us home.”

“Why’s that, flower?” You’d followed behind him as he reached the Jeep and unlocked it, swung the back passenger door open to reveal a car seat. You stood there, open-mouthed and wide-eyed as he turned to face you, Sam’s head rested on his shoulder. “I did the research, I know it’s the right one for his weight. I even drove to a fire station to make sure it was strapped in the right way. Did you know they do that? You wanna buckle him in? I’ve never done it before.”

Struck speechless, you’d taken your child from his arms and climbed up to buckle him in as Josh pulled the wagon around and stuffed it into the back of the Jeep. Once you were in the passenger seat and Josh had climbed in beside you, you’d told him he didn’t have to do all of this.

“I think that I did, babe.”

⏰

“Oh fuck, just like that baby, just like that.”

Josh growls in response and you can feel yourself clamp down around him. He feels it too and leans to the side to see your face, cheek pushed into his sheets, eyes squeezed shut and mouth hanging open.

“Like that?” He’s pumping his hips against your ass, one hand gripping it tight and the other wrapped around your hipbone. He delivers a sharp thrust that pushes your body forward but the sheen of sweat on your face keeps you stuck in place. “Pretty girl likes it a little rough?”

He knows that you do, sometimes, when the mood strikes. It had struck hard earlier in the night, and you’d practically tackled him the moment you heard his front door click behind you. His back had slammed against it as your body collided with his, a hand immediately sliding down his torso and lower to palm his cock over his jeans. You’d felt it begin to harden under your touch as your tongue slid against his, before you pulled off of his mouth to lick a wet stripe over the sharp angle of his jawline.

“Want you in my mouth, let me taste it.”

He’d groaned against the shell of your ear.

Not long after, he’d lifted you off your knees from the floor and thrown you over his shoulder, hauled you up to his bed and you’d torn the clothes from each other’s bodies.

Now, he’s fucking into you, eyes bouncing from the delicious view of himself retreating and disappearing into your pussy stretched around him, to the expanse of your back, the graceful curve of it arched below him. He hears you mumbling against the mattress, begging for harder and more, and as always he’s trying his best to give you whatever you need despite the bruises you might have on the backs of your thighs tomorrow.

“Christ, I can feel you baby, are you gonna cum for me?”

You’d snaked a hand between your body and the bed and you’re doing your best to swirl frantic circles over your clit, moaning in response to his question. He needs to feel you let go, he wants to flip you over so he can see your face when you do but you’re so close already. He can wait.

When it hits you, he slows his hips to work you through it slowly, drawing it out as long as he can. The way you’d yelped out his name and then continued to murmur it softly into the sheets let’s him know that it’s working. He’s not there yet, and when he feels your muscles relax around him he slips out of you and lets you sink to the mattress. Using his hands to encourage you to roll over, he soaks in the dopey smile on your face once you’re looking up at him.

“Did that feel nice, flower?” You nod your head lazily and reach for him, running your hands over the sticky skin over his ribs before wrapping your arms around his back. “Are you gonna let me back in? I’m not done with you yet.” You let your legs fall open wide, inviting him to settle between them. He slips back inside as he tucks his face into your neck, pressing his lips along the column of your throat. His hips start moving again, he’s really just rocking into you but it’s deep and persistent and you know that sometimes this is just exactly what he needs.

“Mm, I love you like this mama, so sweet and soft for me after you get what you want.”

“Lucky for you, I always get what I want.” He chuckles at that and nips at your neck.

“You do, don’t you? Aren’t I always so good for you?”

His question warms your cheeks and tugs at your heartstrings. He wants to hear your praise and you know him well enough to know that he’s probably about to surprise you with some other minor kink he’s been hiding. You’re correct of course, and you’re definitely surprised.

He pulls away from your neck to hover over you, pets a hand over the damp hair at your temple and settles his hold against the side of your head. He nudges the tip of his nose against yours before he pulls a gentle kiss from your lips. When he opens them again, his eyes are begging for the words.

“You’re so good Josh, always perfect for me.” It causes his hips to break their rhythm momentarily as he twitches inside you.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

His voice drops to a whisper. “Let me fill you up, give you another baby.”

Oh.

Your brain turns it over rapidly. It wasn’t a real discussion you’d had, but even though you’d gotten back on birth control months ago and you’ve been together for almost a year, you’ve been using condoms all this time. Unless you didn’t, in which case he’d never even asked, he just didn’t cross that boundary. He’d paint your body with his release and you’d welcome it.

“Please.” His voice sounds strangled now, he’s hanging on by a thread and begging again for a response, his eyes locked onto yours.

“You wanna be a daddy, Josh?”

He clamps his eyes shut for a moment, a deep groan rumbles through him. He liked that, that’s obvious but it’s not a confirmation. “I’m already a daddy, my love. A damn good one. But I wanna see you all round and glowing with my baby inside you.”

A soft moan passes your lips. This is working for you in a way you would never have expected, and you can tell by the way he’s trapped his bottom lip between his teeth that it’s working for him too.

“Do it, cum for me. Inside.”

“Yeah… m’gonna knock you up, pretty girl. Make you a mama again. Fuck-“ His hips push into you hard and you can feel him spilling deep inside you as his mouth crashes into yours. You let him inside you there too, connected everywhere that you possibly could be. He stays tucked inside after he cums, and you whisper love into each other’s ears as you run your fingers up and down his back and over his shoulder blades.

When he finally lifts himself from your chest, propped up and smiling down at you, he surprises you again.

“You and Sam should move in with me.”

⏰

Things were not always perfect, but they usually came pretty close.

Josh had to leave sometimes, which you’d always known, he’d traveled for weeks at a time over the years, sometimes months and while it was never particularly easy, you and Sam got along just fine at home alone. As you always have.

He would call often, as much as he possibly could, and over FaceTime he would tell you all about what’s gone wrong, what’s gone right, and how he wished you were there with him.

“Where’s my boy? Isn't it almost bedtime? Lemme talk to him.”

You called for your now six-year-old who came running into the room, sliding to a stop and jumping onto the couch.

“DAD!! Dad I lost a tooth today, look!” He stretches his lips into a wide grin, showing Josh that one of his front teeth is in fact missing. “Mom said I have a gap like yours.”

You’re stifling a laugh with your palm as Josh flashes his own gap-toothed grin.

“That’s awesome buddy, I heard the tooth fairy is giving out crisp hundred dollar bills for high quality teeth like that one. I hope she delivers.” Your eyes roll back in your head, knowing you’ll have to make that happen. Josh notoriously spoils this kid. “Hey, someone else wants to say hi real quick.”

Josh passes the phone off and you see both of his brothers squeezing together to fit on the screen at the same time. Sam squeals in delight as Uncle Jake and “Big Sam” tell him that they’d heard that front teeth were worth $200.

“Nice hair dude, you’re gonna look just like me soon!”

“No, he looks like me. His namesake.”

Little Sam had decided he wanted to grow his hair out, and you’d let him give it a go. In reality, it just makes him look even more like you but you’ve decided not to hurt their feelings. Which is why you also choose not to reveal the truth, that he’d told you he wanted long hair because “Uncle Jake is so cool, Mom.” Sorry, Sammy.

When Josh takes the phone back, he tells you both how much he loves and misses you, and tells Sam that he better be good because he’ll be home soon and if he’s not good, he won’t get any of the gifts that are packed in Josh’s luggage.

The reunions were sweeter after the two of you had moved into Josh’s house, just a couple months after he’d first floated the idea. He would come home, to your shared home to be greeted first by your little boy and you’d watch as Josh kneeled to the floor to envelop him in a crushing hug that would make them both laugh wildly. He would scoop your baby up as he stood, keep him propped on his hip as he made his way to where you stood. His other arm would circle your waist and he’d pull you in to press his lips to yours, and Sam would make exaggerated sounds of disgust until Josh delivered a kiss to his forehead.

“It’s good to be home. I missed you guys so much.”

⏰

“Hey Sam, can you come with me real quick? I need to talk to you about something.”

You lift an eyebrow in question that Josh ignores as he leaves the kitchen with Sam, who’s happy to abandon his homework at the dining table.

Up in Sam’s room, which used to be a second guest bedroom (why Josh needed a house so big when he lived by himself, you’ll never know), Josh sits on his bed and asks him to sit next to him.

“First of all, you need to clean this room. What the hell are you doing up here?” Sam gasps and then giggles. “Don’t tell your mom I cursed.”

“She’s gonna be mad if I don’t go finish my homework.”

“You’re right. And she’s right, she’s always right, don’t forget that.” Sam’s looking at him expectantly, waiting for whatever he needed to talk about. Josh takes a deep breath and Sam knows this is gonna be a long one, Dad talks a lot.

“Sam, I love your mom very much.”

“Duh.”

“Smart ass. Let me finish. I also love you very much, and I’m so lucky to be your dad. Incredibly lucky that she was willing to share you with me.” Sam knows that Josh is not his real dad, but it doesn’t matter to him. “You two are my whole world, you know that?”

Nodding his head, Sam’s hoping he’ll get to the point soon so he doesn’t get in trouble about the homework.

“I wanna ask your mom to marry me. But I wanted to make sure that was okay with you first.” Josh is chewing over his bottom lip nervously while Sam stays quiet.

“Does that mean you’d be my real dad?”

“Oh, buddy I’ll always be your dad. No matter what. But, we could make it more official, if that’s what you and your mom want.” He’s holding back tears that are burning his eyes as his son studies his face.

“Yeah that would be cool. I hope she says yes, you’re kind of a dork.” The tears spill over as Josh laughs loudly, totally and completely in love with the little boy in front of him.

Later that night, long after that pesky homework is completed and dinner has been eaten and dishes cleaned up, after having sent Sam off to bed at least an hour ago, Josh is leaned against the pillows scrolling on his phone. Waiting for you.

The bathroom light goes dark and he looks up to find you leaned against the doorframe of the en suite, draped in a short forest green robe that’s belted around your waist.

“Don’t you look lovely? You know green is my favorite color.”

“No kidding? How fortuitous that I bought a sexy little slip of satin in your favorite color. Who would’ve known?”

Blood is already rushing to his dick, your voice is low and seductive and having the exact effect you’d hoped for. The robe is for show however, and as you walk toward the bed your fingers pull the belt apart, allowing him a glimpse of the bare skin underneath.

“God I love you.”

“Mm, why don’t you show me how much?” As you reach the end of the bed, you let the satin slip over your shoulders and flutter to the ground.

He’d moved quickly to pull you in, limbs and heart tangled with yours, and he showed you how much he loved you, over and over again, leaving you both breathless and sweating, chests heaving as you rested your head against his.

Drawing soft circles over the shape of his muscles, he stopped the motion of your fingers to grasp your hand and bring it to his lips. When you lifted your gaze to his face, he knew anything he had planned wouldn’t compare to this moment

“Flower?” You hum in response, eyes not leaving his as his expression turns serious. “Baby, I want to adopt Sam.”

You push off of him to sit up and see him clearly, whispering, “Really?”

“Yeah. And I think he wants that too. I should’ve talked to you about it first but it sort of just… came up when we were talking earlier. Would you want that?”

You’re nodding your head enthusiastically before realization hits you and your smile slips. “Josh, I don't think you can if we’re not-“

“Married?” You’re nodding your head again, mouth turned down into a full frown. He sits up to lean into you, a hand coming up to wrap around the back of your neck and pull your lips to his and then rests his forehead against yours, as he so often does. “The thing is, more than anything really, I would love it if you’d marry me.”

Pulling away, eyes wide and jaw slack, you stare at him until he speaks again.

“Will you marry me, Y/N?”

There’s a ring hidden away, but the plan has been abandoned and he has nothing to offer you right now aside from himself.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, absolutely yes.” You’re crawling into his lap, kissing over his face held in your hands and he’s laughing as your kiss lands on his lips.

When you pull away again, love swimming in both of your eyes, he says, "Thank god, Sam said you might say no because I'm a dork. Am I allowed to start grounding him now?

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#greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fic #greta van fleet smut #gvf smut #gvf fanfiction #gvf fan fiction #gvf fluff #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka #josh gvf

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