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jezebelblues · 1 month ago

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burning hill | h.s

summary: in which a girl feels too afraid of commitment because of her past, and the boy who knows nothing of it, falls helplessly anyway.

cw: smut18+ fingering, penetration (p in v), a smidge of spanking, mommy issues, 2016!harry, angst, i guess. all in upper case if that gets u goin. fem!reader, unedited cause i fell asleep writing this. gn. mwah :*

word count: approx 17k

| hhmm more coming of these 2 perhaps 🫵

ps: if u see any (!!!) around words or see random things in all caps, its cause that’s what i use to indicate italics/bold cause tumblr doesn’t save that i swear

It’s been fifteen months since the group announced their hiatus.

Phone calls became scarce, and so many words were left unspoken, drifting into that space where they might never find their way back. For the first time in years, he felt free—untethered from the rhythm of living intertwined with three other lives. At first, the quiet felt unbearable, like the silence after the crowd fades and the lights go down. But slowly, the loneliness began to feel like home. A strange sort of comfort in the quiet. He found a semblance of privacy—at least a bit more than he had in the band.

Harry felt that, since the hiatus, the fans had grown older with him, their wide-eyed fascination dulled by time and reality. There were fewer frantic moments, fewer desperate hands pulling at him. Now, on a good day, he could stroll through his hometown, maybe get stopped for a polite photo. Occasionally, there were still shadows trailing him—paparazzi or a fan trying to be invisible but failing, always just out of reach. He didn’t like it, not really, but he’d learned to live with it. It’s what came with the territory, a price he thought he’d long accepted.

But it was the writing that kept him grounded. Kept him real. The one thing that still felt like his own. His debut album was close to finished now, though the mixing, the rewrites, the constant tweaking—it never felt like enough. There was this tightness inside him, a knot of anxiety that refused to unravel. Would anyone like Harry styles, the solo artist? Or would they always only care about Harry, the boy in the band?

He wasn’t ungrateful, not for a second. But deep down, he craved something more. He needed the space to finally figure out what he wanted, to break free, to become something else entirely. Something new.

It’s been eight months since he met YN.

It was happenstance, through his manager—though sometimes Harry liked to imagine it was fate. It was one of those coincidences that felt too deliberate to be real, like something out of a half-finished song. She was Jeff’s goddaughter, on the periphery of his world, but until then, she’d been just another name mentioned in passing.

YN started her internship at the recording studio in the beginning of April of this year. She moved to New York with a close friend shortly after her twenty first birthday, saving up for what felt like forever, and Jeffery instantly had the idea of corroborating with the studio about an internship. He knew of her uncertainty about the future. He knew about the interest in music YN had, and he wanted to give her a chance.

Jeff had told her it was a paid internship, though it really wasn’t. He was the one who was paying her through check, under the guise of the studio. She would freak if she found out, turning it all down—Jeff knew that all too well.

Her first month was moreso about passing time. She’d work on any logistics, learning about the soundboard and how it worked hand in hand with the recording aspect, not to mention the process of remastering, mixing, finalizing. Harry was in and out those first three weeks, still finishing up a few interviews and whatnot. YN talked to him a few times when he’d pop in before taking off again, he was sweet. Still, she needed something to do until he was finally able to settle down to focus on one of the last stretches of the album—and giving her busywork was just that.

She wasn’t supposed to be at the office that day in May, but Jeff made her come along before they would continue their constant work at the drawing table, in the booth. It was the day he decided to cut his hair—and there she was, sitting quietly on the edge of the room, trying not to be seen, caught up in the swirl of conversations she didn’t quite belong to yet. There was something about her, something he couldn’t put his finger on. The way she observed everything, but didn’t feel the need to make herself known. A quiet confidence, maybe, or just a complete lack of pretense.

When she offered to help with the cut, everyone laughed, but he said yes. He didn’t know why, maybe because she didn’t treat it like this big, defining moment. The whole world was making such a fuss about his hair, like that was all he was, all he’d ever be. But YN? She just smiled, grabbed the scissors, and got to work. No ceremony, no theatrics—just a few careful snips, and suddenly he was lighter, like he could breathe again.

Afterward, they’d joked about how she should switch careers. But she’d only smiled that same quiet smile and said she was more interested in being on the other side of music. She was learning everything she could. At first, she was just there, hovering at the edge of things. But before long, she was everywhere. Quietly slipping into conversations, offering up ideas that stuck with him long after she’d left the room.

She wasn’t like the people he usually worked with. She wasn’t starry-eyed, wasn’t afraid of him or the idea of him. YN spoke to the brunette like he was just a guy making music, figuring things out. And maybe that’s what drew him in, slowly at first, then all at once. She didn’t see Harry Styles, the soloist. She saw Harry—the restless, uncertain man who wasn’t sure if he was running from his past or trying to carve out a future. He was human, an equal, not an enigma.

He caught himself thinking about her more than he should, replaying their conversations in his head when he was alone in his flat, the silence pressing in around him. She had this way of getting under his skin without even trying, making him wonder if he’d been doing everything wrong up until now. Or maybe, just maybe, she was the first person to make him feel like he didn’t need to have all the answers.

There was something magnetic about her, a pull he couldn’t quite shake. He’d see her in the studio, headphones on, scribbling notes on a track they’d been working on, her brow furrowed in concentration. She cared about the music, really cared, and he respected that more than he could say. In the rare moments she’d look up and catch him watching, she’d smile—soft and unassuming, as if she wasn’t at the center of this storm he was slowly getting lost in.

He’d thought about it, late at night when the studio was empty, and all he had were his thoughts. He wasn’t sure if it was the music that kept him coming back, or if it was something else entirely.

But the truth was, ever since she walked into his life, the world didn’t feel as heavy. It didn’t feel so lonely anymore.

YN had a quiet way of carrying herself, something light and untouchable, like she’d mastered the art of being present without ever fully giving herself away. It was part of what made her so magnetic, Harry thought, but it also kept her at arm’s length—just out of reach. The more time he spent with her, the more he sensed there were pieces of her story she wasn’t ready to share, things she held onto with a grip so tight, it almost hurt to watch.

Her father had been older when she was born, older than Jeff was, at least—a man who had already been through his share of mistakes and regrets by the time he met Jeffery in college. YN’s dad had been trying to start over, to build something solid for himself after years of wandering. They clicked right away—two guys who didn’t have much in common on the surface, but who understood each other in the ways that mattered. Jeff was young, still wide-eyed and ambitious, while YN’s father had lived a little longer, seen more of the mess the world had to offer. They bonded over that, and when YN was born, Jeff had been right there, practically family.

YN’s mother had left when she was just a baby. No warning, no messy custody battle, just gone. Her dad was the moon, always there—faintly during the day when he worked, but always present by night. Her mother was a solar eclipse, popping up in certain areas every now and then, but never staying. Maybe she’d call and wish her a belated happy birthday, or send a card for Christmas that year. She was always fleeting. And YN thought herself the stars, always there, always ever connected to the two despite time and space.

So, her father had raised her on his own, doing his best with what little he had. Jeff had been named godfather not long after her birth, and though he didn’t say much about it, YN knew he’d always carried a quiet kind of guilt. Like maybe if he’d been around more, her life might’ve been different. She never blamed him, of course—she adored Jeff, looked at him like he was some kind of anchor in her life, a second father figure, someone she could always count on. But there was no denying that a part of her had been shaped by absence, by the cold reality of her mother’s abandonment.

She didn’t talk about her mother much. When they’d first started getting to know each other, Harry had asked her once—offhandedly, without thinking—and the way her expression shifted, the way her walls shot up so quickly, he knew not to push. He’d seen it before, in himself, the instinct to hide away when the past felt too close.

Harry didn’t know much about her. They hadn’t talked about personal things, not really. Her past wasn’t something she talked about, not with anyone, and especially not with people like Harry—people who had the world’s attention, people who might think she was just another girl with a tragic backstory. But he knew she was Jeff’s goddaughter, that she was interning at the studio, trying to figure out if music was the career she wanted. He knew her favorite artist and color, knew her favorite subject in school and her best friend’s name—Marisol. He knew she preferred sunsets over sunrises, mountains and forests over beaches. But it felt superficial, barely scraping the surface. He wanted to know more. She seemed talented, driven, but there was something else—something in the way she held herself back.

There were moments when he’d catch her smile, but it was always soft, fleeting. Like she was offering a glimpse of something deeper but never letting him get too close. It intrigued him, the way she could be so kind yet so guarded, as if she’d learned not to give too much away. It was a look he recognized, one he saw in himself sometimes, when the weight of expectations and the uncertainty of his solo career pressed too heavily on his shoulders. But with YN, it felt different. It felt like something that had been there long before she ever stepped into the studio.

Moving to New York had been her way of starting over. She’d wanted to escape the weight of her past, to carve out a life that was her own. Jeff had given her that opportunity, and even though she hadn’t been sure it was what she wanted at first, she found herself falling into the rhythm of it. The work was hard sometimes, but it felt good, like maybe she was finally building something of her own. But even here, in this new city with new faces, YN still felt that familiar pull—the instinct to keep her distance, to protect herself from getting too attached.

He wasn’t sure she’d let him in, anyway. YN was like that—careful, cautious. Maybe she always would be.

In June, a little over two months since YN started working in the studio, she and Harry had formed an easy, steadying friendship. YN wasn’t like most people in his world. She understood his music in a way that felt rare—intimately, deeply, as if she could feel the weight of each word before he even sang it. It touched him more than he could admit.

But as much as he was drawn to her, Harry could sense the distance she kept between them. It wasn’t obvious, not in a way anyone else would notice, but there was a part of YN that stayed hidden. She had a warmth to her—she was kind, smart, and always knew exactly what to say when he asked for her help. But when it came to the deeper parts of herself, the parts Harry desperately wanted to know, she stayed locked away. He saw it in the way she smiled when something hit too close to home, or the way she never let conversations stray too far from the task at hand. It was as though she’d built an invisible wall around herself, and no one—not even him—was allowed through.

But he knew better than to push. For now, their connection revolved around the music.

Sometime in early June, they were hunched over in their usual studio chairs, working on the final track of his debut album. The song had taken weeks to perfect, but they were close now—closer than they had been. From the Dining Table was raw, achingly personal and YN, somehow, had helped him shape it into something even more honest than it had started.

“What if you lean into the third verse more?” She suggested, her pen tapping the page thoughtfully. "The emotion's there, but it's like you're not letting yourself feel it fully. Especially in that second verse–maybe one day you’ll me, and tell me that you’re sorry, too. You're pulling back right when you should lean into it."

Harry stopped playing with the strings on his guitar and looked up at her, brow furrowed. "What do y’mean?"

She hummed, biting her lip as she considered the words, her fingers brushing the edge of the paper. “Maybe drop the keys lower in the last chorus..” She trailed off, lost in her own thought process. She shifted in her chair, leaning forward slightly as she studied the lyrics. "It's heavy, but it could be even more vulnerable. You're singing about something really personal here, about the kind of loneliness that feels like it's eating you alive. But in the melody, it feels..safe. I think you need to make the vocals feel a bit more broken, like you're barely holding it together. Let the silence in the song do some of the work. Think about pulling back on the production, too–keep it more stripped down.” She laughed lightly, a bit sheepish. “If that makes sense.”

Harry nodded slowly, the words hanging in the air between them. She got it. She always got it. The lyrics had been twisting inside him for weeks, and it was YN’s careful guidance that had finally helped him pull them into something real, something tangible. He picked up his guitar, adjusting the chords she mentioned, and played the verse again. The notes hung heavier in the air this time, more space, more quiet.

“There.” YN murmured. “That’s what it needed—the space between the words, the silence. That's where the emotion is."

For the next few hours, they went back and forth, fine-tuning the melody and adjusting the lyrics. YN suggested cutting down the instrumentation, making it feel more intimate, like a conversation Harry was having with himself. And as the song started to take shape, Harry felt a weight lifting. It’s what he wanted for the song, it deserved this rawness, this vulnerability.

Over the next two weeks, they worked tirelessly on the track, tweaking the lyrics, adjusting the production. YN had suggested subtle changes in the arrangement—adding faint background harmonies, letting the piano take the lead in certain sections. It was her idea to introduce a low hum in the final chorus, something atmospheric that made the song feel like it was dissolving into the empty spaces of the room. Harry trusted her instincts completely by now, her intelligence and understanding of the music so sharp that he barely needed to question her advice. She had a way of knowing what the song needed, even when he couldn’t see it himself.

By the time they reached the last day of recording that track, the song had transformed into something that felt like a piece of his soul, laid bare for the world to hear. It was time to play it for the team, to record the final version that would make it onto the album. She didn’t hear it in its entirety yet, only the parts Harry would reveal that he wanted insight on.

The band was ready, gathered behind their instruments, and the rest of the team sat in the control room, waiting to hear what he had spent weeks perfecting. The studio felt heavier than usual, the air thick with anticipation. Harry glanced over at YN, who was standing by the glass that separated the studio from the control room, her arms crossed loosely in front of her. She was watching him, as she always did, but there was something different in her eyes tonight. He couldn’t place it—something softer, more vulnerable than usual.

Harry picked up his guitar, gave the band a nod, and stepped up to the mic. The first notes echoed through the room, soft and haunting. His voice followed, low and steady, each lyric pouring out an isolation he had written into the song, each verse dripping in melancholy. The room around him seemed to blur, and for a moment, it was just him, the music, and the truth of what he was singing.

“Maybe one day you’ll call me, and tell me that you’re sorry, too.”

His voice cracked slightly on the word sorry, just as it had in practice. But this time, it felt different. More real. More final.

As the song continued, Harry’s gaze flickered over to YN. She was still standing by the glass, but something had changed. Her arms had fallen to her sides, and her eyes were fixed on him, wide and shimmering with unshed tears. It was subtle at first—a quick blink, a shift of her expression—but then he saw it. A tear slipped down her cheek, and YN quickly brushed it away, trying to hide the emotion that was overtaking her.

But she couldn’t. Not this time.

By the time the song ended, the room was filled with the soft, fading echoes of the final notes. Harry stood still, the guitar resting against his chest, his breath uneven. He watched as YN slowly stepped forward, closer to the glass, her eyes still glistening. She rested her hand gently on the pane, the only thing separating them, and gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod.

It was all he needed. That nod, that single moment of unspoken approval, meant more than words ever could. She understood—she always had. But seeing her moved by the song, seeing the tears she tried so hard to hide, told Harry more about her than she’d ever let on.

For the first time, Harry felt like he had reached her core, even if just for a second. And as the team buzzed with quiet admiration for the track, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from YN. Because in that small, fragile moment, she had let her walls down. Just enough.

And Harry realized, standing there with the music still humming through his veins, that maybe he wasn’t the only one who felt something more between them. Maybe YN wasn’t as unreachable as he had once thought.

July had seemed to’ve breeze past, almost gone in a daze. It was Friday, and there would only be two more Fridays left till they would have to flip the colander pages to August. The heat of the day still mingled in the air as the studio settled into its usual weekend quiet. The crew had all left for the night, tired but satisfied after wrapping another long day of recording. The album was nearing completion, and the tension that had built up over the past few months was finally starting to lift. Harry could feel it—the sense of relief, of something monumental coming to an end—but there was still so much hanging in the air between him and YN, at least that’s what he felt.

They were alone in the lounge now, the soft glow of the low lights casting faded shadows on the walls. YN sat on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her as she sipped from a recently topped-off flute of champagne, her eyes tired but content. They had opened the bottle to celebrate finishing another track, Two Ghosts. YN wasn’t there when the production first started for this song, only there for the finalized remastering of it that finished today—and she had insisted he must celebrate, the fizzy sweetness a small reward for everything he’s been pouring into the album.

"Cheers!” Harry had laughed, clinking his glass against hers with a lopsided grin. "One more down."

He didn’t quite remember what glass he was on, but he could feel the familiar buzz of being tipsy, like he could float. Besides the lounge, the rest of the building was dark, only light seeping through was from the city outside. Harry leaned back against the arm of the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him, the remnants of his drink swirling lazily in his glass. He felt relaxed—more relaxed than he had in weeks. Maybe it was the champagne, or maybe it was the fact that they were finally nearing the end of the album. But it wasn't just that. It was YN, too.

And god, she looked gorgeous.

She dressed down for the day, knowing it was Friday and she could fall into bed as soon as she got home. A hoodie hung loosely over her frame, the pair of lounge shorts coming a little bit above her mid thigh. The alcohol seemed to give her eyes more of a sparkle, her skin flush—Harry wondered if alcohol could make him look as pretty as she, but he ended up on the conclusion of probably not.

“I know I said this already.” She giggled, taking a sip of the bubbly. Her smile was hazy, eyes clouded over. “But the song sounds great.” She enthusiastically sent him a thumbs up, the bottom of his feet against the bend of her knees as his legs remained sprawled out over the couch. The curly haired boy already asked if he should move to give her more space, but her dismissal was a shouted, pleading whine of no, stay! “You should be famous or something.” She sent him a wink, and he couldn’t stifle the laughter that escaped him from how slow and exaggerated she’d done it.

The lightness in the air was contagious, and they both seemed to be floating, untethered and free from the usual tension. He rested his temple against the back cushion of the sofa, his lazy grin seemingly impossible to wipe off. “Dunno, sounds like a lot of work. Maybe I’ll jus’ start a bakery instead.” He shrugged, taking a swig of what was left in the flute after parting ways between his head and the cushion beside him. “Styles’ Pies, what d’you think?”

YN snorted, nearly spilling her champagne as she pictured it. “You? In a bakery? I don’t even think you can make toast without burning it.”

Harry’s eyes widened in mock offense. “Hey, m’great in the kitchen. You’ve just never seen me in action.”

“Oh really?” YN arched a brow, clearly unconvinced. She set her glass down on the table, waving her hand as if conducting an imaginary cooking show. “Alright, Chef Styles, what’s your signature dish? Burnt toast with a side of undercooked eggs?”

He groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “I’m never gonna live that down, am I? That was one time!”

“Ah-ha!” She teased, biting her lip to hold back another laugh. “You know, they might not even let you into the bakery with that track record. Health code violations, and all.”

“Oh, come on!” Harry huffed, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll have you know, I’m actually a master at making..” He paused, narrowing his eyes in thought. “Pancakes.”

YN burst into laughter again, this time nearly doubling over, gently clasping her fingers around his ankles for support. “Pancakes? Oh god, I bet you’d flip them right onto the floor.”

“Oi, that’s not true!” Harry was laughing now too, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the easy back-and-forth. YN had placed her hands back into her lap after grabbing her glass again, legs still tucked underneath her. “I’ve got skills. Just wait. I’ll cook f’you one day, and you’ll be begging for more. You’ll never want to leave m’kitchen.”

She wiped away a tear from her drunken laughter, a banter that probably would not be as entertaining if she was sober. “We’ll see about that. I’ll be your taste tester—but don’t be mad if I spit it out.”

“Oh, y’ruthless tonight, huh?” He nudged her playfully with his foot, legs still draped along the sofa. “Well, if pancakes don’t win y’over, I’ll just serenade you with some of m’songs. You won’t stand a chance.”

YN’s laughter turned into a snort as she brought the flute to her lips, taking another sip before grinning at him. “Woo me with your guitar? Play a little ditty about burnt toast?”

Harry leaned forward, dramatically mimicking strumming an invisible guitar, his expression serious as he sang, “Maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for two..”

YN feigned a cringe, holding her ands out in front of her as if to block the very sight of him. The tune was cute, but she would never admit that. Harry could barely keep it together as he leaned back against the sofa’s arm, rolling his eyes as she finally lowered her hands. “And I’ll have you know I worked n’a bakery in Holmes Chapel, favorite employee, too.”

“My god, aren’t you a prodigy?” She smiled, tilting her head to the side as if pretending to be bashful. “Singer, songwriter, baker of the month.”

“Y’damn right.”He tipped an imaginary hat on his head, “I contain multitudes.” He winked, a better one that YN had sent earlier, his grin wide and a little bit tipsy.

They sat in the comfortable silence that followed, both of them still chuckling under their breath, the champagne buzzing through their veins like a soft lullaby. Harry glanced over at YN, her face flushed from laughter, her body relaxed in a way he hadn’t seen before. She looked free. Happy. And it did something to his chest, a tug he couldn’t ignore.

“Hey.” he said softly, stretching his ankle ever so slightly to gently nudge her knee with his foot. “Y’having fun?”

She nodded, her smile softening as she glanced at him. “Yeah. I am.” Her voice was quieter now, the playful energy of a moment ago still lingering, but with something else creeping in. Something softer, more intimate.

Harry smiled back, his heart doing that stupid fluttering thing it always did around her. “Good, m’glad.”

There was a beat of silence before she spoke again, her words coming out slower, as if she was trying to steady herself. “You’re..not what I expected.”

Harry tilted his head, a curious smirk tugging at his lips. “What’d y’expect?”

She hummed, “Don’t know.” She said with a shrug, her fingers tracing absentminded circles on the cushion. “Someone a little more, I don’t know–untouchable? Like, y’know, the harry styles,’ the big deal. But you’re just harry styles, my friend.”

He laughed softly, playing with the hem of his bright pink shorts. “Jus’ me, huh? Guess that’s not s’bad.”

“It’s not.” She smiled, her eyes locking with his, and for a moment, something passed between them. Something heavier, like an acknowledgment of everything unspoken.

Harry shifted, suddenly aware of how close they had gotten during her revelation. His hand, which had been resting on her knee, slid a little higher, his fingers brushing the soft skin of her thigh. The playful banter was still there, but it was quieter now, replaced by a tension that neither of them could deny any longer.

“Y’know.”she said, breaking the silence with a small smile. “I still don’t believe you can make pancakes.”

His eyes darkened with a mixture of amusement and something deeper as he leaned in, his voice low and teasing. “Maybe I should make you breakfast tomorrow morning then.”

YN’s breath hitched, her pulse quickening at his words, and she opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, Harry’s lips were on hers. She instantly melted into it, as if an instinct. However, after a beat, the palm of her hand pressed against his shoulder. Their lips slowly separated, strings of saliva snapping at the middle from their mutual departure. Her breath rose and fell rapidly, a small smile on her lips. “How are you gonna make pancakes at the st–.”

Harry had cut her off with a groan, but it was humorous, mixed with his giggles. “Y’stopped that t’get technical?”

YN shrugged before pulling him back into the kiss, unwavering, still. It was tentative for a moment, as if he was waiting for her to push away again, but she didn’t. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his t-shirt, lips in sync as she deepened their kiss.

The taste of the fruity champagne lingered between them, intoxicating and heady. It grew hungrier, more desperate as if months of unresolved tension had finally snapped. YN’s tongue found itself swiping a soft stripe against his bottom lip, a heavy sigh emerging from him as his fingers brushed along the hem of her hoodie, slipping his hands underneath, his palm resting on the warm curve of her waist.

“H–” She whispered against his lips, her voice breathy, almost a plea. But it wasn’t a plea to stop—it was a plea for more.

His name on her lips drive him mad. With a low grown, he shifted, pulling her into his lap in one fluid motion. Her legs straddled him, holding herself as close to him as she could, their kisses turning feverish. His large hands pulled her even closer—not a centimeter of space to be left. He parted his lips, a broken breath tumbling from his mouth as she started to roll her hips against his growing cock stuck underneath the hot pink shorts.

His ring clad fingers slip father up her hoodie, the coolness of the medal a sharp contrast to the heat radiating off the both of them. Harry tugged on the fabric, pulling it over her head in a rush, revealing the thin bralette underneath. “Fuck–” He mumbled, breath caressing her skin as his lips skimmed the bone of her jawline, placing a slow, tentative kiss right at her pulse point. “So beautiful.” He was drunk in the moment that was her—figuratively and literally—his voice distant and light, like a voice breaking through a daydream.

She rolled her hips harder against him as his hands slipped under the hem of her shorts, lips sloppily trailing her chest, her nose buried in his curls. A soft moan is drawn from her as Harry’s hands grip her ass, aiding her movements of dry humping his cock. His tongue grazed the fleshy part of her breast that threatened to spill out of her bra, a shuddering exhale brushing from her lips, right into his disheveled locks.

She hastily cups his chin, pulling him from her chest to messily kiss him again. She wanted to taste the faint peach on his tongue from the champagne, to feel the stubble above his lip tickling against her. They both moaned into each other’s mouths, her fingers running down his shirt, tugging at the hem. He smiles, parting from her to pull his shirt off. It was rushed, his chin getting caught in the collar which made laughter sit between them comfortably. YN gently helps him pull the shirt from his head. It was discarded somewhere on the floor, its whereabouts not a priority.

Their cheeks are flush, lips plump and vibrant as they fall into each other’s eyes—their giggles fading out and their heavy breaths replacing it. “I want you.” She whispered, her gaze trailing from his eyes, to his lips, along the markings of his torso, then back up again.

He nodded, pressing his forehead against hers with a shaky breath. “Yeah?”

She hummed, though it sounded similar to a purr—a divinely feminine melody that made him twitch under the fabric that held him from her. “Yeah.”

He gives her a quick peck before tapping her thigh and guiding her off his lap. He looks at her as his thumb slips under the waistband of both his shorts and boxers, his glance expectant of some sort of approval or denial.

Her hands reach back behind her, unclasping the bra and letting the straps fall from her shoulders; to which he took that as his go ahead. Harry bucks his hips from the couch, tugging the clothing down his legs and letting it fall onto the floor. His cock slapped against his abdomen from the sheer force of how quickly he freed himself. It was bigger than she had expected, the head a pretty pink that glistened with precum.

He didn’t give her a chance to react for herself as he pulled along her bare waist, ushering YN back onto him. He planted kisses along her breast, the hem of her shorts sitting right against his chest, his large hands holding her inches above the cock she so desperate to fill herself up with.

His tongue encircled the bud of her nipple, one hand still gripping her ass to keep her pressed against his chest, above his length—while the other fell a tad lower, his index and middle finger slipping underneath the leg of her shorts and panties, brushing along her wet folds.

She could feel his lips spread into a smirk before he began to suck on her nipple. She buried her face into his curls, grasping onto the roots as his digits sat at the entrance of her core, heat radiating from her cunt as her arousal soaked the tips of his fingers. She whimpers, wanting to grind down on them and fill her up until his knuckles sat harshly against her folds, but he held her in place—the grip on the soft part of her ass feeling rougher. He looks up at her through his eyelashes, though her face is hidden in his hair, he still revels in it. “Y’that desperate for it, hm?”

She nods against the top of his head, eyes squeezing shut. “Yes, Harry.” She whined, fingers tightly laced between his locks. “Fuck–please, I need it.”

His mouth finds its way back to her tits as he eases his thick fingers into her cunt, tauntingly slow. Her walls fluttered around him, a soft moan escaping her as he pumped his fingers in and out, the sound of her wetness was hot, filthy—the way it bounced around the room. It only made him harder knowing that no one else will know what happened here besides them.

He curls his digits into a spot that makes her hips buck harder against his chest, a yelp emitting from the top of her throat, which he takes as a moment to smack the fleshy part of her ass, it wasn’t very hard, as if he was testing the waters to try to understand what she needed. Judging from the noises she made, and how her bum seemed to push a slight wiggle into the palm of his hand, he figured she liked it.

He pumps his fingers faster, his knuckles almost pounding against her core as he sneaks the opportunity to spank her again. A string of profanities and whiny pleas fell from her, her hands falling to a grip on his shoulders as he coaxed her to the brink of coming on just his fingers alone.

His lips are sloppy against her chest, more focused on how his digits buried themselves into her pussy. Her words aren’t coherent, a ringing faint in her ears as she tightens around him, her hips erupting into a shudder as she rides out her orgasm. He lightens the grip from her bum, allowing her to roll her hips with his fingers still deep inside her, basking in how she tried to milk herself of every drop she could.

Once her movements still, he slowly pulls out of her, the two making eye contact as he brings the two fingers to his mouth, wrapping his lips around them prettily, licking her arousal from the source.

Her breaths were heavy, eyes darkened as she watched the dirtiest thing play out in front of her. His eyes flutter to a close, a smirk speaking across his lips as if it was the most heavenly thing he’s tasted; she already feels the knot in her tummy tightening again.

She pulls him into a kiss, meeting each other harshly as she tastes herself from his lips. His hands brush along the small of her back, then to her hips, slipping the shorts and panties down her legs and off her ankles with an awkward, momentary shift in position to do so. She lowers herself as much as he’d allow, his lips stilling as he feels her heat against the head of his cock. He pulls away slightly, forehead against hers with a small flicker of disappointment on his features. “I don’t have a condom.” His voice low and raspy, thick with lust as he held her against him once again, unable to fill herself as she desired.

Her chest rose and fell heavily, eyes meeting his. “M’on the pill.” She whispered, voice breathy and light from her previous orgasm.

His eyebrows furrowed, gaze unwavering in hers. This is something he normally would never do, fucking someone unprotected. But the way his cock ached for her was damn near painful, and he trusted her. A friend he’d come to cherish, although in the back of his mind, he wanted her more than a friend. He darted his eyes between hers and the way her tummy fluttered with heavy breath. His glance was expectant again, silently needing approval to even think of continuing.

She wiggled her hips in his grasp once more, her a whiny plea a soft mutter—and it’s all he needed to hear. She sank onto his length, a slow strain befell them from how he had to ease his cock into her pussy, stretching her out with every upward motion of his hips.

The feeling of him filling her was addicting to both, pleasured sighs and moans emitting from each of them as she adjusted around his length, sinking down the shaft completely. Only a beat had past before she started to roll her hips into him, adjusting to the feeling of him. One hand sat sprawled against her back, will the other remained on her ass. Harry’s head leaned along the edge of the couch, watching through half-lidded eyes at the way her tits moved as she began to bounce on his length, having him draw sharp inhale at the feeling. “Jus’ like that.” He groaned, the hand on her back and bum guiding her movements. “Good girl–y’feel so good, jus–” He cuts off his own sentence with a moan, his head falling forward now, just a bit. His forehead grazed along her shoulder—barely—every time she’d bob up the length of his cock. “Like that, bunny–fuck.” His voice was breathy, listening to the pretty moans that escaped her and the way her cunt sounded riding his cock.

His hand slid down her back, both gripping her ass a bit roughy as he guided her movements with more force. Her lips fell agape, a whimper falling out now and then as Harry held her weight as if it was nothing, moving her up and down his thick cock with an ease that made her cry out his name.

He pushed and pulled her onto him greedily, her head falling onto his shoulder as he rested his chin on hers, watching as he pounded her onto the base of his length. The sharp sounds of skin against skin mixed in with their moans, a cacophony of their pleasure filling the lounge.

He loosened his grip from her bum, smacking her ass as his other hand gathered her hair into his fist, jerking her head back to force a semblance of eye contact. The palm of his other hand rested over her thigh, continuing to guide her movements though the momentum from her own hands against his shoulders was enough.

He knew he was close, and the way her noises got louder, how her cunt tightened around him—Harry knew she was close, too. The tiny fraction of him that held an ounce of logic through his drunken pleasure told him to pull out, but it fell to the back of his mind, silenced with the sound of his own moans and the way his length twitched, the knot in his belly rounding tightly. “Look at me.” He forced through a grunt, his toes curling against the carpet and his jaw tightened as he tried to stall his release.

The grip on his shoulders was lethal, though the only thing he could feel was her pussy fluttering around him. Her hair was still balled tightly in his fist, craning her head into a position where their foreheads were only a few inches away—the only thing that would keep her from looking if she closed her eyes. She wouldn’t though.

His hand pushed harder against her thigh, both of their skin flushed a pink from the force of the contact of the way her ass and thighs slapped along his pelvis. “Say my name–” His groan was guttural, as if he was teetering on the edge of losing his composure. With his grip still in her hair, he pressed her forehead into his, both slick with a gleam of sweat. “When you come—say it.” He grunted, eyes meeting hers once again. “Or I won’t let you.”

She felt her legs to tremble, her lips parting as the cries and whimpers of his name escaped her like a mantra. His chest rose and fell unevenly, pressing her forehead into hers further as they met their release simultaneously. Thick ropes of come fill her cunt to the point where it drips out around him. Their breaths are heavy and quick, his hands soft against the skin of her legs as they tremble, pressing his lips atop her shoulders as she sinks into his chest.

The next morning arrived in a hazy blur. The sky was gray as it prepared itself for a summer thunderstorm. The pitter-patter of rain hitting the window caused him to stir first, a wince from feeling the stiffness in his neck before anything else. His back was pressed awkwardly into the couch, his arm draped around something soft and warm. He blinked his eyes open, the dull light from the stormy sky offering not very much of anything as it bled through the blinds. The familiar scent of the studio mixed with something more intoxicating—YN.

He nudged his chin down to glance at the girl curled up on his chest, his shirt from last night adorning her frame as soft snores fell from her mouth. Their legs were tangled together underneath a thin throw blanket with Christmas patterns he didn’t remember grabbing before passing out. The events of last night came in a rushed haze from the smell of the champagne on his own breath. He shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable, but the movement pulled YN from her slumber. She let out a small groan before nuzzling deeper into his bare chest, not wanting to let go of the warmth.

The smell of Harry’s cologne caused her eyes to peel open, her brow furrowing in confusion as she took in her surroundings.

“Morning.” Harry had rasped out, voice still thick with sleep.

She blinked, and then placed her palms against his chest to push herself up. She glanced around the studio with the turn of her head, then back at Harry with an unreadable expression. Her hair was disheveled, Harry’s discarded shirt hung loosely around her—she could feel the thickness of his come seeping out of her, pooling in her underwear and forming a dampened spot. “Oh my god.”

He winced involuntarily, and this time it wasn’t from the ache in his neck. “Um.” He paused, voice cautious. “Yeah.”

YN bit her lip, sitting up fully as she slipped into a spot between his thighs. The cushion was soft against her bum as she pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “Yeah.” She echoed his words, unsure of what to say.

Harry had scoot up slightly, the small of his back against the arm of the sofa. He rubbed his neck, sighing from the crick he developed for sleeping in such an awkward position. “Are you okay?”

She looked at him, her eyes still a bit dazed from the remnants of sleep and the weight of their shared moment. YN offered him a small smile, “Mhm.” She hummed, but an uncertainty glimmered along the edge of her pupil, unsure of what came next. “Not exactly used to waking up like this, I guess–but I’m okay.”

He nodded slowly, though a frown threatened to spread across his lips. He reached out hesitantly, palm resting on her knee as he sighed. “You regret it?” He asked, though it sounded rhetorical.

Her face seemed to soften at his words, sincerity and a hint of hurt evident in his expression. A furrow formed in her forehead as she shook her head, placing a hand on top of the one he sat on her knee. “No, H. ‘Course not.” She paused, shifting in her seat before forcing herself to stand, his hand slipping from her knee back into his own lap. It felt cold, and he knew she was pulling away. She very quickly stripped Harry’s shirt off—to which he averted his eyes to the ground—shrugging back on her own hoodie and shorts.

“YN.” Harry mumbled, his voice shaking as he pulled his shirt back over his head. She seemed distracted, slipping her shoes back on and putting her phone into the hoodie pocket before she trailed back toward Harry, gazing down at where he sat on the couch. He had looked at her the way he always seemed to look at her, eyes full of things that would stay unsaid. “What does this mean?”

She kneeled before him almost immediately, combing her fingers through his hair in a moment of comfort. “Doesn’t have to mean anything.” Her voice was soft, kind, as if that was the thing he wanted to hear. “We’re friends, this won’t make it weird, okay?”

He could feel his heart sink into his stomach as he nodded with slight trepidation, wishing she would just open herself up and allow him to hold her, to show her that he wouldn’t let go. “I don’t regret it, never ever.” She murmured, ducking her head down a bit to meet his gaze that seemed to lower at her words. “I swear it.”

He forced a smile, her hand pulling away from his curls—the curls she previously moaned into, the hair that she tangled her fingers in from an orgasm that crashed over her like a wave. He swallowed dryly as she back stood up, still not looking away from him. A defeat settled over him, an impatient longing as he realized if he was ever going to have a chance with the woman before him, he’d have to wait. He didn’t know what pain she held, the things she guarded so strongly, but he knew she would have to admit to herself first that she was worthy of something good. Harry parted his lips, taking a deep breath to keep his voice steady. “Stay friends?” He asked expectantly, holding out a pinky to her.

She smiled, a sad one, however. She wanted to wrap him into her arms and apologize for making the choice to walk away, but she felt it was best. YN believed she wasn’t what he deserved, and it would be in his best interest to pretend like everything went back to normal. She lowered her hand, intertwining her pinky with his. “Stay friends.”

On August fourth, The studio was bathed in a soft, golden glow, the late afternoon sun filtering through the one window in the control room. Everyone, besides YN and Harry, went out for their lunch break. Harry had asked if she would help her tweak the soon-to-be third track on the album, Carolina.

Since waking up from the sex they had in the lounge, they hadn’t brought it up—though it didn’t disappear. There would be moments where it loomed over them, heavy and unrelenting. It took everything in them not to bridge that specific gap, took everything in Harry not to bend her over the soundboard to feel her again, took everything in him not to fall to his knees before her, hugging her legs while he cried about how he was helplessly falling for her.

It was the hottest day of the year, and though the air conditioner was humming in a low buzz, the air was thick with warmth. The kind of still, lingering heat that made everything feel slow and hazy, like time itself had paused for a moment. Harry picked up his guitar, fingers brushing over the strings, testing the familiar weight of it in his hands. The sound of the first strum seemed to melt into the air, easy, relaxed, as if the room itself was humming along to the rhythm.

She kneeled down, across from the spot Harry sat on the floor, guitar in lap. She pressed on certain strings on specific parts of the neck, eyes flickering between Harry and the instrument expectantly. They both knew the notes and the chords, the tone it could give. “Try those notes.”She murmured, moving Harry’s Hand from where it sat on the neck to where she wanted his fingers to be. Her touch was delicate, and if Harry didn’t reground himself he would’ve forgot what was happening all together. “Lean into the groove more?” Her words were laced with a light chuckle as she stood up, looking back down at the brunette on the floor. “Loosen up a bassline, could add some layered harmonies, something subtle, but it'll give the track more depth."

Harry's eyes lit up, a spark of excitement that always seemed to come alive when YN shared her thoughts. She had this uncanny way of making the most complex ideas sound simple. He nodded eagerly, strumming a few playful chords, the sound bouncing off the walls of the empty studio. "Yeah, that's it.” He whispered to himself excitedly, already hearing the song in his head. He began playing, the cords, melody bright and carefree, his fingers gliding effortlessly over the strings.

The atmosphere shifted almost instantly—no longer weighed down by deadlines or pressure, but filled with something light. Harry stood up without a word, the grin never leaving his face as he strummed the revisioned tune, the guitar hanging casually from his shoulder as he waltzed across the room, his voice bouncing with the light-hearted lyrics. The brunette’s footsteps were lazy, carefree, his long legs carrying him in wide, exaggerated circles as he moved with the rhythm, his laughter spilling out between the lyrics. It was easy—so easy—that the line between the song and the moment blurred.

“She’s a good girl.”

his voice bright and full of mischief as he twirled past her, catching her eye. He wiggled his eyebrows, a playful challenge, daring her to join in.

YN couldn’t help herself, he was infectious . She laughed, the sound so genuine and pure it filled the air. She pushed away from the soundboard, and before she could even think of hesitation, she was dancing and hopping around in time to the music, letting herself get lost along with him.

“Such a good girl”

She really was, like when he buried himself between her legs a few weeks ago.

The hem of her dainty sundress swept around her shins in a slow, lazy twirl. Her laughter mixed with the sound of the guitar, light and unguarded, like the weight of the world had lifted, just for this one moment.

Harry’s voice followed her as he floated around, his fingers never missing a beat. The melody was effortless, the chords bright and warm like the fading summer light that filled the room. His gaze flicked toward her every few seconds, catching the way she moved, her arms outstretched as she spun in gentle circles, her hair catching the golden light in soft waves.

The whole scene felt like something out of time, like they had stepped into an old, grainy film reel—faded sun, carefree laughter, and the kind of simplicity that made everything else fade into the background. There was no rush, no pressure, just the music and the way they moved through it together.

Harry kept playing, his voice growing louder, more animated, as he circled back to her, his laughter echoing in the small space. He swayed, leaning into the guitar as he strummed, almost tripping over a cable but catching himself at the last second with a dramatic flourish. YN continued her movements, her arms floating through the air, soft and unhurried, like she was dancing with the music itself.

And then, in one smooth motion, Harry waltzed closer, standing just a few feet away from her as he played the final chorus. His smile was wide, eyes bright with the joy of the moment, and YN met his gaze with the same carefree energy, spinning one last time before she collapsed against the stool, breathless from her giggles.

The last chord hung in the air for a moment longer, lingering like the final rays of sunlight spilling through the window. The room was still humming with the energy they’d created, the echoes of their laughter and the bright notes of the guitar lingering in the walls. Harry let the guitar slide gently to his side, leaning against the stool as he caught his breath, his chest rising and falling in time with YN’s, her face flushed and glowing. He was grinning, the kind of grin that reached his eyes and made his dimples crater.

For a second, everything felt perfect, untouched by the noise of the outside world. It was just the two of them, the fading summer light, and the echo of a song that hadn’t yet been recorded but already felt like it was carved into their shared memory.

All he wanted to do was kiss her again.

She was perched on her chair now, her legs crossed, still smiling from their little impromptu dance. She glowed with the warmth of the sun filtering in through the window. The carefree, playful energy between them began to settle, but the air didn’t lose its charge. Instead, something softer slipped into the space between them, a kind of comfortable quiet as they both let the last traces of laughter fade away.

Harry wiped a hand across his forehead, pushing back a few stray curls as he looked over at her, the easy grin still tugging at his lips. The guitar rested against his knee as he sat down, but he didn’t play, didn’t move. He was just watching her now, the way her fingers traced absentminded circles on the edge of the stool, the way her gaze was still bright with that unguarded laughter. It was rare to see her like this—unguarded, fully present—and Harry found himself caught in the moment, not wanting it to end.

Just as that night in July, when we pulled her into her chest to sleep for the night—when it felt like he could call her his as he wrapped his arms around her, basking in their afterglow.

YN let out a soft sigh, the last of her breathless laughter leaving her, and when she looked at him, her expression shifted. Something quieter, more serious. The playful glint in her eyes softened into something almost reverent, like she was seeing him—really seeing him.

“You know, Harry.” She smiled, her voice gentle but firm, like she was about to say something important. “This album–” There was a pause as she exhaled through her nose, but it was light from her enthused realization. “It’s going to go down as a classic. It’s real. You’re real. Your talent, the rawness of it—it’s something people won’t forget.”

The words landed between them like a weight, soft but undeniable. Harry felt his heart skip, his smile faltering just slightly as her words settled in. He’d heard compliments before—so many, often thrown around casually—but this… this was different. The sincerity in her voice, the way her eyes held his, unflinching, unwavering, as if she wasn’t just saying something kind, but something true.

For a moment, the room seemed to shift around him. It was like the air grew thicker, the light softer, the world quieter. He felt exposed, in a way he hadn’t expected, like her words had peeled back a layer he’d been hiding under, a layer he hadn’t even realized was there. The compliment wasn’t just about the music, wasn’t just about the work they’d been doing. It felt personal, like she saw him—not the version of him the world saw, not Harry, the soloist, but him, Harry. The guy trying to figure it all out, pouring every piece of himself into this album, hoping that it would matter.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly tight, and for a second, he wasn’t sure what to say.

He thought about telling her thank you.

He thought about remaining speechless.

No one had told him something like that in a long time—not like this, not with this kind of weight. He could feel his chest tightening, his pulse thrumming a little too fast, the gravity of her words sinking deeper than he thought they would.

He thought about her words.

He thought about her.

“YN, I—” He started to speak, but the words caught in his throat. He looked at her, really looked at her, and for the first time, he wondered if maybe she understood him more than he’d ever realized. Maybe that was why her words felt so heavy, why they struck him in a way nothing else had. Because they came from her.

He thought about how much he wanted to say he was starting to fall in love with her.

But before he could say anything else, the door to the studio swung open with a loud creak, breaking the moment like a pebble dropped into still water. The team was back, their voices filling the room as they filed in, the soft hum of conversation and the shuffle of papers cutting through the silence that had wrapped around him and YN.

“Alright, alright, back to it.” Jeff chuckled, ever the dad friend, clapping his hands as he made his way toward the control board. The mood shifted, the studio returning to its usual buzz of activity, the easy rhythm of work settling back into place.

Harry blinked, the spell of the moment breaking as he straightened up, shaking off the sudden heaviness in his chest. YN gave him a small, knowing smile, her eyes still holding a trace of the warmth from before, but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. She’d already said what mattered.

She knew the look in Harry’s eye.

She had thought about how much she missed him.

She thought about how much that scared her.

With a soft sigh, Harry adjusted the guitar on his lap, nodding as the team gathered around, discussing admin details, technical tweaks, and publicity strategies for the album’s release. The room was buzzing again, the easy laughter and lightness of earlier replaced with the steady hum of work. But Harry’s mind was still lingering on what YN had said, the quiet sincerity of her words looping in the back of his mind.

As the evening stretched on, the work became more mechanical—emails, calls, planning—but Harry’s thoughts kept drifting back to her. He couldn’t shake the way she drifted around the room earlier, like a dandelion wisp dancing in the wind. How her laugh sounded so pretty he wanted to put it in a song. How real it had felt when she’d looked at him and told him what his music would become. It was a compliment, sure, but it was more than that. It was a belief. And for the first time in a long while, Harry felt like someone saw him exactly as he was, and believed in him all the same.

That day at the studio soon began to draw to a close, the golden light from earlier now softening into deep ambers and long shadows. The room, once buzzing with activity, had fallen into a more relaxed rhythm as the team packed up their things, saying their goodbyes with tired but satisfied smiles. The project was moving, inching closer to the finish line.

Harry leaned back, watching from the corner of the room as the last of the crew made their way to the door. The sounds of zippers closing and bags being slung over shoulders filled the space, each member of the team calling out their see-you-laters, their voices fading as they spilled out into the hallway. One by one, they disappeared, until the door swung shut with a final, quiet click, leaving just Harry and YN behind.

The silence settled in slowly, wrapping itself around the room like a warm, familiar blanket. It was the kind of silence that felt more like a presence than an absence, thick and heavy with something unspoken. Harry ran his fingers over the neck of his guitar one last time before placing it back on its stand, the metal strings catching the fading light. His movements were slow, almost deliberate, like he was trying to hold on to the quiet a little longer.

He glanced over his shoulder, noticing that YN was still at the small table near the edge of the room, shuffling her things about. She was moving slower than usual, her hands hovering over her notebook, lingering on the scattered papers like she wasn’t quite ready to leave. Harry chuckled softly, the sound breaking the stillness.

“Need help with all that?” he asked, his voice airy, teasing in a way that felt natural between them.

But YN didn’t respond right away. She kept her eyes down, focused on her things, but her movements were stiffer now, less fluid. There was something different in the way she stood there, something quiet but undeniably present—an undercurrent of tension Harry couldn’t quite place. He felt the air shift, that familiar warmth between them suddenly giving way to something more solemn, more guarded.

“YN?” Harry asked, his voice softer now, his smile fading as he stepped toward her. “Everything alright?”

She looked up then, her eyes catching his for the briefest moment before she quickly glanced away again, like she couldn’t hold the gaze for too long. Her expression was calm, but there was a tightness in her jaw, something held back, something she wasn’t sure how to say. She let out a soft sigh, the weight of whatever was on her mind finally beginning to show.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you.” She started, her voice low and measured, like she was carefully choosing each word. “August thirty-first.” She bit the inside of her lip momentarily. “It’ll be my last day here. My internship—it’s ending.”

The words landed between them like a quiet echo, reverberating in the space left behind by the day’s fading energy. Harry felt the weight of them settle in his chest, heavier than he had expected. He knew the internship wouldn’t last forever—of course, he’d known that—but hearing it out loud, hearing it from her, made it feel real in a way he hadn’t prepared for.

For a moment, Harry didn’t say anything. He just stood there, staring at her, trying to make sense of the sudden tightness in his throat. It felt like the air had been knocked out of him, but he didn’t quite understand why. She was still there, right in front of him, but the idea of her leaving, of this chapter ending, hit him harder than he thought it would.

“Your last day.” He repeated quietly, more to himself than to her, his brows knitting together slightly.

YN nodded, but she didn’t look at him. She busied herself with the papers in her hands, though it was clear she wasn’t really doing anything—just moving things around to avoid the heaviness of the conversation. The atmosphere had changed, charged with an unsaid emotion. It reminded Harry of the way people talk about those long, hot August nights, the kind where the sky is still bright at 9pm, but you can feel autumn creeping in around the edges, making the warmth feel both infinite and fleeting.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, letting out a quiet breath as he leaned against the control board. He wasn’t sure what to say.

Part of him wondered if it was because of the sex. A part of him wanted to ask her to stay, to find some reason to keep her there, keep things as they were. But he knew he couldn’t. That wasn’t the way the world worked, no matter how much you wanted to freeze a moment in time.

“How come?” He finally asked, his voice quieter now, softer in a way that mirrored the dimming light of the room.

YN shrugged slightly, her shoulders barely moving. “I’ve known for a bit. It’s temporary, only a summer internship.”

Harry nodded, understanding, though the weight in his chest hadn’t eased. It was hard for him, realizing that after all the late nights, the music, the moments shared, things would change. And YN—who had always kept that quiet distance, who never let anyone too close—wasn’t just leaving the studio. She was leaving him, even if she didn’t mean it that way.

The room felt smaller now, the silence between them growing heavier with every passing second. Harry looked down at his hands, tracing the worn edges of the soundboard with his thumb, searching for something to say that wouldn’t feel like an end.

“I’ll miss you.” He admitted solemnly, the words simple, but honest. They hung in the air like a truth too big for him to admit, they hung in the air like three words she wouldn’t have believed if he said it.

YN smiled then, a small, bittersweet smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She still looked guarded, her walls firmly in place, but there was something soft in the way she glanced up at him, like maybe she felt it too—the finality of the moment they were both trying to avoid.

“I’ll miss you, too.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

And for a brief, fragile second, it was just them again, standing in the soft glow of the studio lights, the world outside forgotten. The weight of time, of change, of things left unsaid—all of it hung between them, heavy but delicate, like a glass teetering on the edge of a table.

Harry opened his mouth, wanting to say more, to ask her something, anything to keep her there a little longer. But before he could find the words, the moment slipped away, the weight of reality settling back in as YN turned away, gathering the last of her things.

The light from the hallway spilled into the room as she reached for the door, casting a long shadow across the studio floor. Harry watched as she stepped toward it, his heart heavy with the knowledge that everything was about to change, whether he was ready for it or not.

YN hesitated in the hallway, every nerve in her body begging her to leave. Her heart sat heavy in her chest, tongue in cheek as she turned back around, opening the door back up with trembling fingers. She stood in the doorway, cracked enough for her frame to linger. A stripe of the nauseating white light of the hallway waned over him and he remained in the same place she had left him moments ago. “Harry.” She muttered, her voice low, almost weary. There was something in the way she said his name, something different—like maybe she wanted to say more but didn’t know how to.

He perked up, his tummy doing flips. The pearly glow behind her made her seem ethereal—angelic. “Yeah?” His tone gentle but searching, like he was trying to pull something unspoken out of the quiet between them.

She looked at him then, fully, her eyes catching the last remnants of the dim light in the studio. For a moment, the guardedness slipped, just a fraction, and Harry could see something underneath—something vulnerable, something that felt a little like goodbye.

“I’m really glad I got to work with you.” YN’s voice was delicate, her words carrying a weight that made it threaten to crack. “This–this has been more than I ever could’ve asked for.”

She was referring to more than just the music and the internship.

Harry swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He didn’t know what to say to that—didn’t know how to tell her that she wasn’t just some random, throwaway intern to him, that these past few months had meant more than just music and late-night studio sessions. She had become a part of his world in a way he hadn’t anticipated, and now that she was leaving, it felt like something vital was being pulled away, leaving him standing on unsteady ground.

“Me too.” He confessed, though he could’ve said more. Harry’s voice was quieter than he intended, his hand running over his face from a feeling he couldn’t admit.

The words hung in the air, soft but honest. YN had seen parts of him that few people did—had understood his music, his vulnerabilities, in a way that made him feel seen. And now, the thought of her not being there—of her walking out that door and leaving all of this behind—made him feel strangely untethered.

YN’s lips curved into a small, almost wistful smile. She looked down at her shoes for a moment, the tip of her sneaker nudging a stray cable on the floor. “I didn’t mean to stay so late.” A weak attempt at lightening the moment. But her eyes betrayed her, the flicker of something deeper still lingering behind her words.

Harry took a step closer, closing the distance between them just slightly. “You know.”Harry mumbled, his tone lighter now, though the heaviness between them still lingered. “This feels a lot like a goodbye when y’have a few weeks still.”

YN glanced up at him, her smile fading into something more thoughtful. “Yeah, I guess we do.” She let out a breathy chuckle, though her voice sounded distant, like she was already somewhere else in her mind.

Silence settled between them again, thicker this time, like the room itself was holding its breath. Harry wanted to say more—wanted to ask her what came next for her, wanted to tell her that maybe things didn’t have to end here—tell her to stay. But he didn’t. The words caught in his throat, tangled up with all the emotions he wasn’t sure how to name.

After a moment, YN shifted her bag on her shoulder and let out a soft breath. “I should get going.” She sighed, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s late.”

Harry nodded, but his chest felt heavy, like he didn’t want her to leave just yet. “Yeah. Right. Let me know you got home okay.”

YN’s smile was small, almost bittersweet. She began to turn in the doorway, her movements slow, like the action of leaving pained her. He sent her a small wave as she gave him one last glance, the door softly clicking shut behind her.

The summer had begun to slip away quietly, the August sun sitting lower in the sky at earlier hours. The air was different that day—thicker, heavier with the weight of something ending. There was a finality to the way the light filtered through the studio’s window, soft and hazy, like the last days of vacation in an old photograph. Everything felt suspended, as though the world was holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable.

Harry had known this day was coming. He’d tried not to think about it, tried to focus on the album, on the music, on the thousand little tasks that came with putting it all together. But today was different. No matter how much he had tried to push it out of his mind, the date had circled back around, staring him in the face.

August thirty-first.

YN’s last day.

He arrived at the studio earlier than usual, the streets outside still quiet, the early morning light pale and soft against the burning. The usual buzz of excitement—the thrill of working on his debut album—was muted, overshadowed by the knowledge that by the end of the day, YN would be gone.

As he set his guitar in the corner of the room, he caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye. She was already there, sitting at her usual spot by the control board, her notebook open in front of her, a pen poised between her fingers. She was focused, scribbling something down, but her movements were slower, more deliberate today. Harry could tell. She knew it too.

The room was quieter than usual, the hum of the equipment the only sound as he walked over to her. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t easy either. It felt like there were a hundred things left unsaid, hanging in the air between them, waiting to be acknowledged. But neither of them said anything. Not yet.

“Morning.” Harry said softly, settling down into his chair across from her. He didn’t dare to greet her with good morning, because it really wasn’t. Not today. He didn’t know when it would be again.

“Morning.” She murmured, voice almost resigned, not looking up from her notebook. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, and Harry felt his chest tighten.

They spent the morning working in the usual rhythm, going over the last details of the album. It should have been a day like any other, but there was a tension under the surface, something neither of them could quite shake. Every moment felt like it was leading up to something, like the end was creeping closer with each passing minute.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, the studio had filled with the usual buzz of people—producers, assistants, technicians—all busy, all focused. But Harry’s mind was somewhere else. He kept glancing over at YN, watching the way she moved around the studio, the way she interacted with everyone, like it was just another day. But he could see it in the way she lingered on certain tasks, the way her eyes scanned the room as if she was memorizing it.

It was nearing the end of the day when the rest of the team began wrapping up, gathering their things, making plans for the next session. The sun had begun to dip lower in the sky, casting the room in that soft, golden light that made everything feel both beautiful and bittersweet. Harry watched as the others said their goodbyes to YN, one by one, thanking her for her work, telling her to stay in touch. She smiled, gracious as ever, but there was a faraway look in her eyes, as if she were already one foot out the door.

And then, it was just the two of them.

The door clicked shut behind the last person, and suddenly the room felt much bigger, the space between them much quieter. Harry stood by the window, his hands in his pockets, watching the light fade as the day slipped into evening. YN was still by the control board, slowly packing up her things—her notebook, her pens, the little scraps of paper she’d scribbled ideas on over the past few months. Her movements were slow, deliberate, holding onto to the moment just a little longer.

Harry turned to face her, his pulse thrumming a little too fast. He wasn’t sure what to say. He hadn’t prepared for this moment, not really. He had spent the last few weeks trying to avoid thinking about it, but now, standing there in the dimming light, he realized he still didn’t want her to leave.

“Are you all set?” He asked quietly, his voice sounding too casual for how much dread he felt inside.

YN glanced up, her eyes meeting his for the first time all day. There was a flicker of something there—something that matched the weight in his chest—but she quickly looked away, zipping up her bag with a small nod.

“I guess so.” She forced a smile, standing up from her chair. “I think that’s everything.”

The silence that followed felt as if nails scratched an old chalkboard, stretching out between them like a line drawn in the sand. Harry took a slow breath, trying to steady himself, trying to find the words he hadn’t been able to say all day. He watched as she slung her bag over her shoulder, her fingers brushing lightly over the edge of the soundboard one last time, like she was saying goodbye to something bigger than just the room.

Harry wanted to ask her to stay, wanted to tell her that things didn’t have to end here—that maybe, just maybe, there was more for them beyond this room, beyond this summer. But he couldn’t. He knew her too well by now, knew that she had already made up her mind.

“I guess this is goodbye then.” She frowned, eyes glasses over.

His stomach lurched. She had his number, of course, but Harry didn’t know if she would keep in contact. He didn’t know she would erase the summer from her mind to ease her heart. Harry swallowed hard, the lump in his throat causing him to wince. “Goodbye, YN.”

For a long moment, neither of them moved. The room was bathed in the last traces of sunshine, everything feeling suspended in time. And then, slowly, YN stepped toward the door, her fingers brushing the handle. She paused, glancing back at him one last time, her expression unreadable.

And he caught himself. The all too familiar lump in his throat at a dull ache, the tip of his nose tickling as he felt tears well up. His feet moved faster than he could think, just a blink of time, and his hand was wrapped around her forearm, pulling YN away from the door. “That’s it?” He asked, his cheeks flushing red and his voice cracked. “That’s all?”

She frowned, her nostrils flaring as she willed away her tears. She adjusted the tote on her shoulder, averting her gaze from Harry to the wall behind him.

“Stay.” He pleaded, she only shook her head.

Stray tears fell from his eyes, heartbroken. “I can have them extend your internship, or something—please.”

Her eyes met his again, stomach twisting at his tears. “Harry that’s a hand out.” She muttered, sighing with a sadness she tried to push away. “I have to move forward.”

He sniffled, lighting placing his hand on her cheek as he brought her into a kiss. His tears made his lips wet, nose too stuffy to breathe through it—but he didn’t care. He figured this was goodbye, for a while.

Her lips were stilled against his until she melted into it, but it was fleeting. She placed her hand upon the one he had on her cheek, removing it as she pulled her face away. She intertwined her fingers with his, placing a few soft kisses to his knuckles.

He only stood there, lips quivering with tears that were unable to stop. As she began to loosen the grip on his hand, putting his arm back to his side, an audible cry left his mouth. It wasn’t loud, barely above a whisper, but it was there. “Y’pinky promised me.” He shook his head, “That we would stay friends.” He took a deep breath, wiping away some of his tears. “But I know you’re gonna disappear on me.”

This time she let her tears fall, taking a step away—the guilt was allconsiming. “Take care of yourself, H.”

And just like that, she was gone as quick as she came.

But that was two months ago, and Harry was right—she barely kept in contact with him. He tried not to take it personally for a while, seeing as she didn’t update her socials as much either. She disappeared just like a snuffed out flickered flame of a candle.

She would respond occasionally, curious to know if he was okay, how the album was going. It was always fine.

Fine, fine, fine.

But he wasn’t fine, it wasn’t fine. He missed her, Harry felt that she broke their promise. And he wanted to be angry, to block her from his mind, but he couldn’t.

He was planning to fly to LA to finish the rest of the album in late September, but couldn’t do it. He remained in New York, not ready to let go of the many things created in that studio.

It was two in the morning as he stared at the bright glare of his phone, the recently sent attachment of the final cut of Carolina staying the dismal state of delivered.

He knew she had her read receipts on, which is why he didn’t swipe away from their messages—heart thudding against his chest as he waited to see if status would ever change to read.

Of course, undeniably so, the song was about another girl. But now it felt like a contradictory, because the only thing he thought about when listening to it was YN.

He knew now that he loved her, that he was in love with her the minute she sent her nod of approval for the From the Dining Table recording.

He was a walking joke to the saying of, she fell first, he fell harder—because he fell first, and then fell even harder.

Harry groaned, shutting his phone off and letting it slip into his lap as he leaned back onto the bed. The heel of his palm sat against his eyes, the pressure allowing for the kaleidoscope of colors and patterns to play on the inside of his eyelids.

He wondered if slamming his head against the wall would feel better than the ache of heartbreak.

However, he didn’t want to test that theory out. He’ll let it remain as a hypothesis for now.

His hands brushed down to his sides, his vision fading back to normal as he stared at the ceiling. He wanted to see if he could go to sleep, maybe even watch a movie—but his phone vibrated against his thigh and he swore the world stopped spinning on its axis for a beat.

He hesitated to look, if it was another weather notification he would probably lose his mind.

But he sat up anyway, grimacing as he clicked the power button, dreading the possible sight of the familiar blue icon.

Yn: everything i imagined it to be and more

Yn: forever proud of you harry styles

His shoulders faltered, a frown settling upon his lips.

h: I miss you.

YN stared at the message, lips parted. She still sat on the bathroom counter where she had been for the last ten minutes, smooshed close to the mirror in attempt to shape her eyebrows.

But as soon as she saw the song attachment pop up three minutes ago, the tweezers remained in its clattered state in the sink.

When the song emitted from her phone she couldn’t help but smile, she swear she could’ve floated. And then she cried.

h: I have 2 more songs to finalize before we send it through to be released next year.

h: Miss picking your brain.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, a pause in her breath. She wasn’t sure what to say. Part of her wanted to respond right away, to fill the silence with words, to close the gap between them that had grown wider with every passing day since she left. But the other part of her—the part that had been protecting her heart all these months—wanted to stay distant, to keep things as they were, safely tucked away in the past.

YN sighed, running a hand through her hair as she glanced at herself in the mirror. She barely recognized the woman staring back at her. The one who had walked out of the studio with a heavy heart and the quiet resolve to move forward, to start anew. But that resolve was wavering now, and Harry’s words were making it impossible to ignore the ache she’d been trying to avoid.

Her phone buzzed again. Another message.

h: Still time to come back, you know. We could finish the album together.

Her heart clenched at the invitation. She could picture him, sitting in the dim light of his apartment, maybe lying in bed, the soft glow of his phone the only thing lighting up his face. She imagined the look in his eyes as he typed the words, that same softness she had seen in him so many times before—when they worked late into the night, when he caught her staring too long, when he let his guard down just enough for her to see the vulnerability underneath.

But she had walked away for a reason. She knew what it would do to her—how easy it would be to fall back into the rhythm of working with Harry, of getting lost in his music, in him. And she wasn’t sure she was ready for that. She wasn’t sure if she could handle the intensity of what lingered between them, the unspoken connection that had grown stronger with every conversation, every glance, every laugh shared.

She didn’t know if she wanted to take the risk to be left again.

h: Please. Just think about it.

Her fingers trembled as she typed, mouth ran dry. She didn’t know what to say, but she knew she couldn’t leave him hanging.

Yn: i’ll think about it

It was short, maybe too short, but it was all she could offer in that moment. She stared at the message for a long time before hitting send, her stomach twisting with the uncertainty of what came next.

On the other end, Harry stared at his phone, his heart sinking as he read her reply. It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no either. It was something in between, something that left him in limbo, waiting for an answer he wasn’t sure would ever come.

He sat there in the silence of his apartment, the city outside moving on as it always did. He wanted to see her again, wanted to finish what they’d started, not just with the music, but with whatever had been building between them all those months. But he knew he couldn’t push her. YN was careful, guarded, and he had learned that the hard way. She had her reasons for keeping her distance, reasons she had never fully shared with him.

But still, he hoped. Hoped that maybe, just maybe, she’d come back. That maybe, for once, she’d take a chance.

And so he waited, the phone resting in his lap, the weight of the unsaid words heavy in the room around him.

The days passed slowly after that, each one blending into the next as Harry focused on finishing the album. He threw himself into the work, pouring all of his energy into the final tracks, refining the sound, changing some lyrics, adding new elements.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. The songs were good—great, even—but without YN’s input, without her presence in the studio, it all felt a little hollow. He missed her—missed her laugh, missed the way she’d furrow her brow when she was deep in thought, missed the way she made him feel like he didn’t have to be Harry Styles all the time. With her, he was just Harry. And that was enough.

He loved her.

He hadn’t heard from her since that night. No messages, no calls. It was like she had disappeared all over again, slipping out of his life as quietly as she had entered it.

It was November sixteenth when his phone buzzed again, a message lighting up the screen. The sky was dull, a harsh breeze whipping around the branches of trees—gearing up for a downpour. His heart raced as he saw her name, his fingers fumbling to unlock the phone.

Yn: you’re in ny still?

Harry’s breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t expected to hear from her again, not after weeks of silence.

h: Still here. Why?

There was a long pause before her next message came through.

Yn: i’ve been thinking about you

It was as if the system his body needed to stay alive had paused, his mind racing with possibilities. He couldn’t believe it—after all this time, she was finally considering it.

h: If you ever feel ready, I’m right where you left me.

Another pause.

Yn: it was ever just about the album h

Her message hit him like a punch to the chest, the weight of it settling in slowly. He had known—of course, he had known—but seeing it there, written out in front of him, made it all the more real.

Harry stared at the message for a long time, his fingers hovering over the keyboard as he tried to find the right words. But what could he say? He felt the same way, had felt it for months, but he hadn’t known how to tell her.

He attempted to, the day she left, cried even. But she walked away before he had the chance to continue.

h: I know.

It was simple, but it was true. He did know. He had known all along.

Yn: are you still recording at the same studio?

Harry’s heart leapt at her words, a surge of hope flooding through him.

h: Yeah, actually here right now. Brainstorming by myself for a bit.

Yn: buzz me in. i’m outside

Harry blinked, rereading the message a few times, the tips of his fingers all pins and needles

Outside.

She was there—outside, in the cold, waiting. Without thinking, he shot out of his chair, the legs scraping the studio floor with a harsh screech. His phone almost slipped from his hand as he fumbled to send her a quick reply. His movements were so frantic he had forgotten to press send.

He grabbed his jacket, threw it over his shoulders, and bolted for the door, his mind racing. She was here.

He wondered if he should slow down, would it be weird to greet her breathless at the door?

He rolled his eyes at himself. stop overthinking.

The hallway lights flickered slightly as he made his way down the corridor, his steps fast. He wasn’t sure what he would say, wasn’t sure what she would say, but none of that mattered. All he knew was that she was here, and that was enough for him right now.

When he finally reached the front entrance, he paused for a moment, his hand hovering over the buzzer. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the rush of emotions bubbling inside him. There was a weight to this moment—something bigger than just a simple reunion. He could feel it, like the air had thickened with all the unsaid words between them.

He pressed the button.

A soft buzz echoed through the small space, followed by the familiar click of the door unlocking. Harry pulled it open, stepping out into the crisp November air. The wind whipped around him, biting at his skin, but it didn’t matter because there she was.

YN stood a few feet away, her hands tucked into the pockets of her coat, her hair tousled by the wind. Her face was partially shadowed in the dingy light from the streetlamps, but he could still see her eyes—those same eyes that had watched him in the studio all those months ago, the ones that saw more than most people ever did.

The eyes of a girl he fell so pathetically in love with.

They stood there for a moment, staring at each other in the cold, neither of them moving. It was like time had paused again, just as it had so many times before when they were alone in the studio, surrounded by music but drowning in something deeper. Harry’s breath caught in his throat, unsure how to break the silence.

Finally, YN spoke, her voice quiet but steady, cheeks flushed from both her deepening blush and the cold. “Hi, Harry.”

The sound of her voice hit him like a wave, familiar and comforting, and all the tension he’d been holding onto seemed to unravel at once. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and smiled, though his heart was still racing. “Hi.”

It was such a simple exchange, but it felt like everything. For weeks, Harry had been caught in this strange limbo, not knowing if he’d see her again, not knowing if the distance between them was permanent. But here she was, standing right in front of him, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like things were finally shifting.

“It’s cold.” His voice is light, jutting his chin ever so slightly to the outside that existed around them. “Come in, please.”He felt unsure of how much to say, how much to push.

YN hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering toward the door behind him. She shifted on her feet, the wind catching the ends of her coat and lifting it slightly. For a second, Harry thought she might say no, that maybe she was having second thoughts. But then, she gave him a small nod, a barely-there smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Harry held the door open as she walked past him, the familiar warmth of the studio wrapping around them both as they stepped inside. It was quiet—just the two of them now, the usual noise of the team gone for the night. He led her down the hallway toward the control room, the sound of his heartbeat in his ears, thoughts spinning with everything he wanted to say but couldn’t quite figure out how to.

When they reached the room, Harry gestured toward the seat she’d always occupied—the one by the soundboard where she’d spent so many hours offering ideas, tweaking lyrics, helping him make a few songs what they were. YN paused for a second before sitting down, her hands resting in her lap as she glanced around the room.

“It feels the same.” Her laugh was breathy, a sadness to it. Her eyes lingered on the equipment, the scattered notes, the half-empty coffee cups that still littered the space. “Like nothing’s changed.”

Harry sat down across from her, his fingers brushing absently against the neck of the guitar that leaned against the chair. “Not much has.” He admitted, his voice quiet. “Except for you not being here.”

She looked at him then, searching his face, and Harry felt that familiar pull—the one that had always drawn him to her, even when she’d kept herself at arm’s length. There was something in her gaze, something heavy with unsaid words, and he wondered if she could feel it too.

A beat had passed. “I missed this, she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I missed you, H.

His cheeks felt hot, the words landing between them like a confession. He swallowed, his chest tightening with the weight of everything he wanted to say in return.

“I missed you too.”Harry murmured, the truth of it echoing in every syllable. And for the first time in months, the silence between them didn’t feel so heavy. It felt like maybe, just maybe, things were starting to fall back into place. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.

She shifted on her feet, eyes falling to the floor. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was sincere, dripping with the guilt she’s battled for months. “I’m sorry for leaving you. I needed to take some time, figure things out.”

He nodded, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. He would’ve tried to look better if he knew he’d be seeing her today. “It hurt.”

She pulled her lips between her teeth, eyes glossed over as she nodded. She had to look away, not able to face him. She knew she had done to him the same thing she was so afraid of—she just left. It gutted her for a while, wanting to reach out and apologize. She had this anxious feeling he wouldn’t forgive her. Rightfully so.

But it’s Harry.

He ran his hand down his face, a swirl of emotions becoming a cyclone within him. He frowned, seeing how spaced she was—as if she wasn’t here. “You need to tell me what’s on your mind.”

His tone was a bit more straightforward than he originally intended, but it was the truth. She showed up asking to be buzzed in, he felt as if he shouldn’t be the one digging.

She shook her head, trying to blink away some of her tears. “Guilt, sorrow, you.”

He nodded, looking at her expectantly to finish. He wished she could say her feelings as fast as she could walk away from them, but she was trying at least, and it felt like a start.

She inhaled shakily, running her fingers through her hair as her lip continued to tremble. “Guilt for leaving you the same what I feared being left.” Her voice had a tremor, her breaths a bit quicker. “Guilt for not saying sorry sooner. The pain of missing you—.” She whimpered, the same as Harry did the day she left.

“The guilt and sorrow will fade.” Harry murmured, his heart aching at the sight of her tears. “Y’just to work through it, don’t ignore it.”

YN wiped her cheeks, fingers shaking as she tried to regulate her breathing.. “And you?” Her voice was small, fragile, afraid of the answer.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Me?”

“Have I lost you?”

He frowned, the words caught in his throat. The question felt like it knocked the air from his lungs, and for a moment he didn’t know how to respond. The silence stretched between them, unbearable. He let his shoulders falter, “I love you, YN.”

The words hung between them, raw and unfiltered. It was stripped of all pretense, just the truth he carried with him for months. He watched her for any sort of reaction, and she just kind of stood there. He wondered for a moment if he even said anything, if it was just loud in his head but he actually had just left her hanging. “I love you.” He repeated, just in case.

"I–” She tried to speak, but her voice cracked.

She swallowed hard, tears still clinging to her lashes as she searched his face. The pain, the guilt, the regret—it was all still there, but beneath it, there was something else, something softer. Something she had kept hidden for so long, she wasn't sure how to let it out. “You do?”

He nodded, remaining vulnerable. He had no clue if she would reciprocate, or if she’d just walk away if met with the familiar fear. “Think I always have.”

For the first time, it didn't feel like there was a barrier. It felt like something was breaking, something that had been keeping them apart for far too long.

Without thinking, she reached for him, her fingers brushing against his arm, tentative at first, but then firmer as she closed the distance between them. He didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close. She melted into him, her face pressed against his chest as the tears flowed freely now, the weight of months of separation, guilt, and pain finally slipping away.

Harry held her tightly, his chin resting on top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair, the warmth of her body against his. This was what he had been missing—this. Not just the music, not just the friendship. It was her. All of her.

"I love you," he whispered again, the words soft and full of promise. "I’m here."

It was them, just them—like she’d never left.

#harry edward styles #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles concept #hs1 #2016 harry #lhh #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #one direction #one direction smut #one direction imagine

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buckets-and-trees · 2 months ago

Text

Sweet and Slashy Summer Saturdays

Characters/Pairings: Bucky x curvy!female reader Word Count: 3.6k Summary: A first date with your neighbor Bucky Barnes.

Content Warnings: modern AU, smut, vaginal fingering, hand job, vaginal penetration, sex in a semi-public place

Logistical Notes: Another entry for @witchywithwhiskey's Slasher Summer Writing Challenge (drive in setting, dialogue prompt in bold/italics), a verrrrrry late entry for @bigtreefest Essie's Summer Lovin’ 300 Follower Celebration (public sex/trying not to get caught) (and shhh, Essie said I could be as late as December, but this is just/only Labor Day Weekend), and week 13 of @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer (free week).

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You didn’t want to watch this scary movie. Scary movies were not your thing.

But you didn’t know that the local drive-in movie place was doing Sweet and Slashy Summer Saturdays - a double feature night with a different rom-com and slasher fic every week when you said yes to your stupid hot neighbor Bucky Barnes. He’d asked if you liked drive in movies and if you’d go with him, and you hadn’t thought even a second before accepting.

Bumping into him throughout the building since you’d moved in last spring, sure, it was problematic to have a crush on a neighbor, but he was stupid hot.

Which made you do stupid things - like accept a date with him.

You canceled plans that you’d already had in favor of this date.

Typically you weren’t a fan of movies as a first date, but since it was a drive in, not a theater, you’d have your own space and not bother anyone if you actually wanted to talk - but if for some reason stupid hot Bucky Barnes turned out to be a dud, you would also be able to tune into the movie without seeming totally rude.

Privacy? Yes. Good.

A little bit of talking? Also yes.

He’d picked you up in his big pick up truck, which meant at the drive in, he’d backed into the spot, and now you were in the bed of the truck on a camp mattress and blankets.

Things had been lovely for the first flick - which turned out to be one of your favorites. The two of you had chatted sporadically but easily throughout. There’d been a short intermission where the two of you took a walk, stretched your legs, and gotten some ice cream from the concession stand.

All of that had been lovely. Easy time with him.

It had allowed you to trick yourself into the false confidence that you could handle the other half of the double feature.

But the slasher fic had you jumpy, scooting closer and closer into Bucky’s chest, until now you had your face permanently half hidden against his chest.

Bucky chuckled and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you chirped.

“Are you sure? We can leave, I really don’t mind, I’ve see this at least twenty times.”

“No, I’m - I’m fine,” you said quietly.

He murmured your name against the crown of your head, planting a kiss there. “We don’t have to stay.”

But that little kiss? Being tucked cozily against him? Your whole body was humming with butterflies and warmth despite the cool evening summer breeze flitting over your skin.

“I’m safe here,” you hummed.

Bucky ticked a finger under your chin and lifted your head up to look him in the face, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You sure about that?”

You giggled - genuinely but with a surge of nerves. “You’ll protect me.”

He smirked. “Only from everyone else.”

“Is that a threat?” You arched a brow and smirked.

“It’s a promise,” he replied, lowering his voice, ducking closer, his breath ghosting over your lips.

You shivered, and he chuckled and pulled you closer. You laughed into his chest, resting your hand lightly on his sternum. “Honestly, if you ever become an actor, don't ever do a slasher flick.”

He scoffed. “What? Why’s that? I’m not such a terrible actor!”

You looked back up at him and shook your head. “I’m not convinced. But also, I’d have to go see it, and clearly I wouldn’t be able to handle that experience.”

“Fine, I promise, I’ll tell the non-existent agent for the acting career I’m never pursuing that slashers are off the table.”

“Good.”

Bucky shifted to make both of you more comfortable. As he shifted, his strong arm tightened around you, pulling you even closer against his broad chest. You felt the warmth of his body enveloping you, a stark contrast to the cool night air. His fingers began to trace lazy patterns on your shoulder, sending tingles down your spine.

"You know," Bucky murmured, his lips brushing your ear, "I'm really glad you came out with me tonight."

You tilted your head to look up at him, taking in his chiseled jawline and those piercing blue eyes. "Me too," you whispered.

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time - just spend time with you. But now you’re driving me crazy, and I can’t keep my hands off you."

Your breath hitched as his hand slowly slid down your arm, savoring every curve and dip. “Then don’t,” you responded. You slipped your leg up over his thigh, tangling your limbs together.

His touch was gentle yet purposeful, exploring the softness of your skin. You felt your pulse quicken as his fingers ghosted over the swell of your hip, squeezing lightly.

"I love how you feel," he whispered, his voice husky. "So soft, so perfect."

His hand continued its journey, caressing the generous curve of your waist. You couldn't help but lean into his touch, craving more. Bucky's fingers splayed across your stomach, appreciating the plush roundness there.

"Beautiful," he breathed.

Bucky's fingers danced up your arm, caressing the soft skin. He traced the curve of your shoulder, then along your collarbone. His touch was feather-light but left a trail of heat in its wake.

You tilted your head back to look at him, taking in his chiseled jawline and intense blue eyes. Bucky's gaze roamed over your face, lingering on your full lips before meeting your eyes again. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb stroking your flushed skin.

"You're so beautiful," Bucky reiterated, his eyes locked on yours.

Your heart raced as he leaned in closer, his warm breath fanning across your face. Time seemed to slow as he closed the distance between you. His lips brushed yours softly at first, tentative and questioning. You responded eagerly, pressing closer and parting your lips slightly.

Bucky took that as invitation to deepen the kiss. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you flush against him. You melted into his embrace, savoring the feel of his firm body against yours.

The kiss grew more heated, tongues exploring as passion built between you. Your hands roamed over his broad shoulders and muscular back, marveling at the strength you felt there. Bucky's own hands weren't idle, caressing your curves with reverence.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily. Bucky rested his forehead against yours, a smile playing on his lips.

"Wow," you whispered.

He chuckled softly. "Wow is right."

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierced the air. You jumped, startled by the sound from the movie. Bucky chuckled against your lips, breaking the kiss.

"Sorry," you mumbled, feeling a heat creep up your neck.

"Don't be sorry," Bucky murmured, his thumb caressing your cheek. "I think it's cute how jumpy you are."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Glad my terror is entertaining for you."

He grinned, pulling you closer. "Well, I do enjoy being your protector."

Another scream rang out from the movie, making you flinch. Bucky's arms tightened around you instinctively. You buried your face in his chest, inhaling his warm, masculine scent. "I'm usually not this much of a scaredy-cat, I swear."

His chest rumbled with laughter. "Sure, sure. I believe you." His tone was teasing, but his arms stayed tight around you.

The score for the movie swelled and pursued a chilling tenor, making you tense. Bucky's hand came up to cup the back of your head, gently pressing your ear to his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat drowned out the sounds of the film.

"Better?" he murmured.

You nodded against him, feeling safer wrapped in his strong arms. "Much better."

His fingers combed through your hair soothingly. "You know, we could always make our own entertainment if the movie's too scary."

You pulled back slightly to look up at him, eyebrow raised. "Oh? What did you have in mind?"

Bucky's eyes darkened as they roamed over your face. "I can think of a few ways to distract you from the movie."

His hand slid down your back, coming to rest on your hip. He gave a gentle squeeze, pulling you against him. Your breath hitched as you felt the hard planes of his body pressed against your softer curves.

"Oh?" you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Like what?"

Instead of answering, Bucky dipped his head and captured your lips in a searing kiss. This wasn't like the earlier kiss - soft and exploratory. This was heat and passion and barely restrained desire. His tongue swept into your mouth, tasting and teasing. You moaned softly, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Bucky's hand slipped under the hem of your shirt, his calloused fingers tracing patterns on the sensitive skin of your lower back. You arched into him, craving more of his touch. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips along your jaw and down your neck.

"God, you're driving me crazy," he murmured against your skin.

You tilted your head, giving him a quizzical look. This man you had categorized as stupid hot because he was so handsome it couldn’t be real seemed to be as gone for you as you were for him.

"I'm driving you crazy?" you asked, your voice a mix of disbelief and amusement. "You're the one who's been making me lose my mind for months now."

Bucky pulled back slightly, his blue eyes searching your face. "Really?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

You nodded, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "Really. I've had a crush on you since the day I moved in. Why do you think I always seemed to be doing laundry at the same time as you?"

A slow grin spread across Bucky's face. "And here I thought I was the one making excuses to run into you."

You laughed softly, your fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "Looks like we've both been idiots."

"Well," Bucky murmured, leaning in close again, "then we should make up for lost time, don't you think?"

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, hot and demanding. You melted into the kiss, savoring the feel of his strong body against yours. His hands roamed your curves, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

You moaned softly into the kiss, your body arching against Bucky's. His hands roamed lower, cupping your ass and pulling you flush against him. You could feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, sending a jolt of desire through you.

"Bucky," you gasped, breaking the kiss. "We're in public."

He chuckled, the sound low and husky. "Don't worry. No one can see us back here."

To prove his point, he rolled you both so you were lying on your back, his body hovering over yours. The truck's high sides and the darkness of the drive-in lot provided a surprising amount of privacy.

Bucky's lips found your neck again, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. You tilted your head, giving him better access as your hands slid under his shirt, exploring the hard planes of his abs.

"God, you feel amazing," you breathed.

He hummed against your skin, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. His hand slipped under your shirt, thumb brushing the underside of your breast. You arched into his touch, craving more.

Bucky's large hand cupped your breast, kneading gently through the thin fabric of your bra. You gasped at the sensation, your body heating up despite the cool night air.

Suddenly, a loud crash from the movie made you jump. Bucky chuckled softly, pulling back to look at you.

"Still scared?" he teased, his thumb brushing over your nipple through your bra.

You shivered, both from his touch and the reminder of where you were. "Maybe a little," you admitted.

Bucky's eyes softened as he gazed down at you. "We can stop if you want," he murmured, his hand stilling on your breast.

You shook your head, reaching up to cup his face. "No, I don't want to stop. I just... I've never done anything like this before. In public, I mean."

He smiled, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. "We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with. We can just cuddle and watch the rest of the movie if you want."

You bit your lip, considering. The fear of getting caught was thrilling, but also nerve-wracking. But the way Bucky was looking at you, his blue eyes dark with desire, made you want to throw caution to the wind.

"I want you," you whispered, pulling him down for another kiss.

Bucky groaned into your mouth, his hand resuming its gentle kneading of your breast. You arched into his touch, your body humming with need. His other hand slid down your side, fingers teasing the waistband of your jeans.

"Is this okay?" he murmured against your lips.

“Mmhmm, please touch me, Bucky,” you pleaded, craving more.

Bucky's fingers deftly unbuttoned your jeans, sliding the zipper down slowly. His hand slipped inside, cupping you through your underwear. You gasped at the contact, hips bucking up into his touch.

"So responsive," he murmured, nipping at your earlobe. "I love it."

His fingers rubbed slow circles over your clothed center, building the tension coiling in your belly. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, very aware of your surroundings despite the privacy of the truck bed.

Bucky's lips trailed down your neck as his fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your underwear. You inhaled sharply as he made contact with your bare flesh, stroking through your folds.

"God, you're so wet already," he groaned against your collarbone.

You whimpered as he teased your entrance, gathering your arousal before circling your clit. Your hips rocked against his hand, chasing the pleasure he was building.

"Bucky, please," you breathed, not even sure what you were begging for.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss as he slid his fingers through your slick folds. You bit your lip to stifle a moan as he slowly pushed one finger inside you.

"Shh," he murmured, kissing you softly. "Gotta be quiet, remember?"

You nodded, your breath coming in short pants as he began to move his finger in and out. He added a second finger, stretching you deliciously. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing small circles that had you seeing stars.

Your hands gripped Bucky's broad shoulders as he worked you closer to the edge. The pleasure was building rapidly, your hips rocking against his skilled fingers. You buried your face in his neck, muffling your whimpers and gasps against his skin.

"That's it, sweetheart," Bucky murmured encouragingly. "Let go for me. I've got you."

His fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made your toes curl. Combined with the steady pressure on your clit, it was quickly becoming too much.

"Bucky," you gasped, your body tensing. "I'm -"

"Come for me," he growled softly, increasing the pace of his fingers.

The coil of tension in your belly snapped. Waves of pleasure crashed over you as your orgasm hit. Bucky captured your lips in a deep kiss, swallowing your moans as you shuddered against him.

As you came down from your high, Bucky slowly withdrew his hand. You whimpered at the loss, feeling oversensitive and boneless. He pressed soft kisses to your face as you caught your breath.

Then he licked your slickness off his fingers, and your breath hitched as he groaned at the taste of you. Your hand trailed down his chest, palming the obvious bulge in his jeans. "What about you?" you asked.

Bucky groaned softly, hips bucking into your touch. "You don't have to-"

You cut him off with a kiss, your hand continuing to rub him through his jeans. "I want to," you murmured against his lips. "Please, let me make you feel good too."

Bucky groaned, his hips rocking into your touch. "God, yes," he breathed.

Your fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, suddenly feeling clumsy with anticipation. Bucky chuckled softly, reaching down to help you. Together, you managed to unfasten his jeans and push them down his hips.

You slipped your hand into his boxers, wrapping your fingers around his hard length. Bucky hissed in pleasure, his head dropping to your shoulder. You stroked him slowly, marveling at how hot and thick he felt in your hand.

"Fuck," Bucky groaned softly. "Your hand feels so good."

Emboldened by his reaction, you increased your pace, twisting your wrist on the upstroke. Bucky's breathing grew ragged, his hips thrusting into your grip. You could feel him throbbing in your hand, growing even harder if that was possible.

"Wait," Bucky gasped, gently grasping your wrist. "Not like this. I want to be inside you."

Your breath caught at his words, desire pooling low in your belly. "Yes," you breathed. "Please, Bucky."

He captured your lips in a searing kiss as his hands worked to push your jeans down your hips. You lifted your hips to help, shimmying out of the tight denim. Bucky's fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your legs as well.

The cool night air hit your heated skin, making you shiver. Bucky's warm hands ran up your thighs, parting them gently. He settled between your legs, his hard length pressing against your core.

Bucky reached for his wallet. You raised an eyebrow as he retrieved a condom.

"Presumptuous, weren't we?" you teased.

He chuckled, a slight blush coloring his cheeks as he tore it open. "More like hopeful. You sure about this?" he murmured, his blue eyes searching yours.

You nodded, reaching for the condom and wrapping your legs around his waist. "I'm sure. I want you, Bucky." You took his stiff cock in your hands and rolled the condom down slowly over his length.

Then you laid back, and he guided his tip to your entrance. He groaned softly, capturing your lips in another kiss as he slowly pushed into you. You gasped at the stretch, your body accommodating his impressive size.

Bucky stilled once he was fully seated inside you, giving you time to adjust. You both moaned softly at the sensation of being so intimately connected. He peppered kisses along your jaw and neck as you breathed through the initial stretch.

"You okay?" he murmured against your skin.

You nodded, running your hands down his muscular back. "Yeah, you can move."

Bucky started with slow, shallow thrusts, gradually building up speed and depth. You bit your lip to stifle your moans, very aware of your surroundings despite the privacy of the truck bed. The movie's soundtrack provided some cover, but you still tried to keep quiet.

"God, you feel amazing," Bucky groaned softly, his hips snapping against yours.

You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, changing the angle slightly. The new position had him hitting that perfect spot inside you with each thrust. Your nails dug into his shoulders as pleasure built rapidly.

"Bucky," you whined.

His hand slid between your bodies, his fingers tracing a path down your stomach until they settled on your sensitive clit. The gentle pressure of his thumb against you sent sparks of pleasure through your body. "Come for me," he whispered in your ear, urging you on as he continued to stroke and tease your sex. You couldn't resist the sensations, and soon you were gasping and moaning in ecstasy, and he swallowed up as much of your sounds as he could with another kiss.

Bucky's movements became more erratic as he chased his own release. You clenched around him, still riding the waves of your orgasm. The added pressure pushed him over the edge.

"Fuck," he groaned, burying his face in your neck as he came.

You held him close, running your fingers through his hair as you both caught your breath. The sounds of the movie filtered back into your awareness - screams and dramatic music that seemed absurdly out of place now.

Bucky lifted his head, a lazy smile spreading across his face as he looked at you. "That was..."

"Amazing," you finished for him, grinning.

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before carefully pulling out. You whimpered at the loss, suddenly feeling very exposed. Bucky noticed your discomfort and quickly helped you redress, then took care of himself.

Once you were both decent again, he pulled you back into his arms. You snuggled against his chest, feeling sated and content.

"So," Bucky murmured, his fingers tracing patterns on your arm, "I think it's safe to say this was a successful first date?"

You grinned and looked up at him. "I'd say so. Though I'm not sure how we're going to top this for date number two."

Bucky chuckled, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, I'm sure we can come up with something. I've got plenty of ideas."

"Is that so?" you teased, trailing your fingers along his jawline. "Care to share?"

He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. "How about I show you instead? Say, next Saturday?"

Your heart fluttered at the promise in his eyes. “Just no more slashers, deal?”

“Deal,” he chuckled, then sealed it the best way, tipping your chin up and capturing your lips in a kiss.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Read more stories from the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend!

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #curvy reader #hotbuckysummer2024 #essie’s summer lovin’ 300 follower celebration #summer lovin’ celebration #essie’s 300 follower special #slashersummerwc #female reader #aspen wrote something #deliciously debauched labor day weekend

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juniperskye · 8 months ago

Text

I Can’t Be Your Friend.

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you do something that alters the state of your friendship. You realize that being his friend hurts too much now. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts.

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff/implied Smut

Word count: 2473

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, implied smut, drug use (marijuana), explicit language, idiots in love, Steve’s absent parents, mention of underage drinking. Let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Tonight was going to be amazing! Steve had invited everyone over for a summer kickoff party, there would be pizza, swimming, beer, and good company. Robin and you had gotten to Steve’s early to help set things up, pizzas were on the way, and you were just waiting for everyone to show up now.

First to arrive was Nancy, she had driven over with Mike, Lucas, Max, and Dustin. They had come bounding in with arms full of chips and soda, piling them recklessly on the coffee table. The younger kids were arguing about who got the bathroom first to change.

You couldn’t help but laugh and roll your eyes as you made your way to the door, letting in the next group. You had assumed it would be Johnathan, Argyle, and the rest of the kids, but instead, Eddie was standing in the doorway.

“Hey Eds!” You smiled.

“Hey! How’s my best girl?” Eddie pulled you into his arms and lifted you slightly as he spun you around. “I’ve missed you dude.”

“I’m good Eds. I’ve missed you too!” Your heart clenched slightly as he placed you back on your feet.

Your relationship with Eddie had always been like this. You were best friends, but sometimes, things were done or said that seemed a bit more than friendly. You’d stayed more nights with Eddie this last year than you did in your own home. Robin had pestered you about the status of your relationship with him to which you’d always reply; “We’re just friends, he doesn’t see me that way”.

“So, I know the kids are here, but I brought a little something special for us. I figured we could go to the van, take a few hits then come back in.” Eddie said wagging a joint in front of you.

“Eddie!” You hissed, covering the joint. “You can’t just pull that out. But yes, give me fifteen minutes.”

Eddie tucked the joint back into his jacket pocket and watched as you made your way over to Steve, Nancy, and Robin. Robin gave you a knowing look and you brushed her off. You were all catching up for a bit, laughing at the nonsense the kids were getting up to. Eddie was the one to open the door for Jonathan, Argyle, El, and Will. As they all walked in, Eddie came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your head.

“You ready?” Eddie whispered.

You nodded and let him lead you outside to his van. Climbing in the back, you made yourself comfortable amongst the pile of blankets and pillows, all the while, Eddie lit the joint and placed it to his lips. After a few quick puffs and one long drag, Eddie passed it to you. The two of you passed the joint back and forth for a bit before it was nearly gone.

“Do you want the last hit?” Eddie asked.

“Nah it’s cool, you take it.” You leaned your head back.

“We could always share it.” Eddie said with a sly smirk.

“Okay.” You blushed.

Eddie took a long drag, holding it in as he moved towards you. He brought his lips to yours, only separated by a few millimeters. Your lips parted in a gasp, and he blew the smoke into your mouth. You inhaled sharply, allowing the smoke in. Your mind felt hazy, and you were starting to wonder if it was the weed or the lack of space between Eddie and you. Eddie met your eyes and pulled back slightly, clearing his throat.

What the hell was happening?

The two of you made your way back into the house and took turns changing into your bathing suits. You rushed outside and went to sit on the steps of the pool with Robin and Nancy. Each of whom gave you a pointed look.

Eddie made a stop in the kitchen to grab you a coke and an orange soda for himself, he then made his way outside. He sat the two cans in front of where you were sitting with the girls, the next thing you knew he was jumping into the pool, splashing the three of you, eliciting screeches from you three.

He surfaced and swam over to you, settling himself between your legs which were dangling off the step. His chest pressed against yours as he reached behind you to grab his soda. Your breath was caught in your throat.

Had he always been this beautiful?

Who were you kidding. Of course he had.

The night went on like this. The kids swimming, playing a ridiculous game of Marco-Polo, Steve grilling hamburgers and hotdogs, Eddie treating you like far more than a friend.

Now you were all crammed in Steve’s living room, some movie playing in the background. You couldn’t remember the name of it because you were far too distracted. When you had come into the living room, all the good seats had been taken, and instead of letting you sit on the floor, Eddie had pulled you into his lap and wrapped his arms around your middle.

You had been sitting like this for about half an hour before he made the suggestion.

“Do you want to go back to my place?”

This typically wouldn’t have sounded like a line, but given everything that had occurred today, you couldn’t help but feel like his words held deeper meaning.

“Okay.”

He led you into the trailer, just like any other time you’d been here, only this time there was a tension hanging over you.

More like sexual tension.

Jesus, get a hold of yourself.

Entering Eddie’s room brought forth a wave of anticipation, you couldn’t help but feel like something was about to happen. Eddie walked over to you and handed you one of his Iron Maiden shirts and a pair of his boxers.

It’s now or never.

You locked your eyes on Eddie’s as you slowly removed your tank top and shorts, leaving you clad in only your bathing suit. Eddie took a sharp breath and pulled his shirt over his head. Up until now things felt as though they’d been moving in slow motion, then all of a sudden things switched to fast forward.

Eddie lunged towards you and locked his lips onto your own, your hands finding his curls, his finding the ties to your swimsuit. His lips tasted like orange soda and nicotine, he was addicting, and you knew you’d never be able to give this up.

Eddie woke up and glanced over to see your naked form curled up in his bed. He couldn’t believe it, the two of you had taken that leap, this would change everything between you.

This could change everything.

I can’t afford to lose her.

You stirred awake, noticing your lack of clothing, and taking note of the discarded clothing on the floor.

So that really did happen.

This could change everything!

“Hey.” Eddie said quietly.

“Hey.” You blushed.

You sat up holding the sheet to your chest and turning to meet Eddie’s gaze. Something was off about his expression, he seemed somber, and you were terrified to find out why.

“So, uh…” Eddie turned, breaking eye contact. “We should just forget this ever happened; you know. So, it doesn’t fuck up our friendship.”

Please say you don’t want to forget about it.

Of course he doesn’t want me.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I guess you’re right.”

Of course she doesn’t want me.

You stood and quickly began pulling your clothes on and gathering your things. There was this loud ringing in your ears and you’re sure Edie was calling your name, but all you knew was you needed to get out of there.

You were halfway home before the ringing stopped.

How could you be so stupid.

Then the tears started. Not only had your heart been broken by the man you loved, but you also lost the one person you’d want to hold you while you cried.

“Dude what is up with you? You’ve been super weird since Steve’s summer kick-off party.” Robin pestered.

“Yeah she’s right, plus Eddie’s been extra bitchy, which usually only happens when you haven’t seen one another in a while. I thought for sure you guys were gonna hookup that night.” Steve ranted.

Your face turned a bright shade of red and you let your gaze fall to your lap. You knew you weren’t exactly being discreet with your avoidance of Eddie, but you didn’t’ think they’d call you out directly.

“Holy shit! You two had sex!” Robin shouted, smacking you on the arm.

“Ow! Yes, we did. And it ruined everything. The next morning, he suggested we just forget it ever happened.”

“What? No way, Eddie’s head over heels for you. What happened?” Steve asked.

You explained to Steve and Robin the events of the night and they both concluded that it made no sense. They were both convinced Eddie was in love with you.

This was when Steve and Robin came up with their plan. They would get you and Eddie together before summer ended.

“Steve, this isn’t working. She is declining every invite to hangout; she has gone as far as driving over and leaving if she sees the van, and even calling everyone to be sure if Eddie was invited.” Robin said throwing herself on the couch in defeat.

“That’s it! We will invite her over for a movie night, just the three of us. Then after she’s here, you go to the other room and call Eddie and invite him over. That way nobody will be able to tell her that he’s invited because he wasn’t.” Steve explained.

“Hey guys!” You called entering Steve’s house.

“Hey! How have you been? We haven’t seen you in a while.” Robin pulled you into a hug.

“Sorry about that, I just…I can’t bring myself to face him yet. I’ll get over it, I just need time.” You said.

Steve came in, greeting you and pulling you to the living room to help him pick a movie. He threw a wink over his shoulder to Robin. She rolled her eyes and made her way to Steve’s dad’s office ready to make the call. When she came to the living room she played it off as a trip to the bathroom.

Things were going well, they felt like old times, save for the hole in your chest in the shape of one, Eddie Munson.

Speaking of which.

“Hey guys!” Eddie greeted, entering the house.

“Guys, what the hell.” You said threw gritted teeth.

They both looked at you with guilty eyes. You shook your head and told them you needed to go. Grabbing your bag you went for the door. It took everything in you to not look at him.

“Hey, where are you going?” Eddie called after you, following you outside. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. You’re dodging my calls, your canceling plans, you’re literally leaving as I showed up to hang out.”

“Eddie, I can’t do this right now. I need to go.”

“So what? That’s it?” He had never sounded so defeated.

“Eddie, I…”

“Is this because of that night? C’mon you’re my best friend, you’re just gonna throw that all away?” He grasped your hand in his own.

“That’s the problem Eddie, I can’t be your friend anymore. Everything is different now.” You shook your head, pulled your hand from his grasp, and took off walking back home.

Eddie walked back into the house and immediately receive a slap to the back of the head from Robin. She and Steve proceeded to explain to Eddie how he had messed the whole thing up and how him suggesting you just “forget it ever happened” had led you to believe that he didn’t care about you.

Initially he didn’t believe them that you had feelings for him, but after they literally spelled it out for him, he realized what an idiot he had been.

“I’m gonna need your help.”

The plan had been a pretty difficult one, Eddie needed Robin and Steve to convince you to come over again for an end of summer bash and after the last time, he was sure you’d say no.

Robin had explained to you that after your conversation with Eddie, that he definitely wouldn’t be coming. She told you that she asked him, and he had declined. It was then that you agreed, but not without a pang of guilt filling your chest. You couldn’t stand the thought of hurting Eddie. The look on his face when you told him you couldn’t be his friend had been haunting you.

The day came and you drove over to Steve’s, shocked that the only car in the driveway had been his. You parked and let yourself in.

“Steve? Where is everyone?”

“Hey! I’m in my room, and they’re on their way I figured you could come early so I could see how you were doing.” Steve said.

You walked into his room and noticed he was seemingly searching for something, he was scrambling around his room, swiftly moving to his dresser as you made yourself comfortable on his bed. You looked over at him just in time to see a mess of curls enter and Steve pulling the door closed. You heard the lock click and the distinct sound of a chair being pushed against the knob.

“What the hell is this?”

“I needed to find a way to talk to you and you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Eddie, let me out.”

“Not until we talk. Look I fucked up that night, I suggested that we forget about it and that was stupid.” He exclaimed.

“Eds, look, I just need time…these feelings will go away eventually. I don’t want to lose you as a friend, but how am I supposed to be around you when I’ve tasted your kiss and will never get to experience that again?”

“I don’t want your feelings to go away. Truth is, I only suggested it because I thought there was no way you could love me back.” Eddie explained.

“You love me?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Eddie pulled you into a gentle kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. You let your fingers get tangled in his hair. There were whispered apologies between kisses and you two only broke apart when the two of you needed air.

“How would you like to go get some dinner?” Eddie asked.

“I would love that!” You replied.

With that, Eddie walked over to the bedroom door and began knocking, shouting to Steve that he was safe to let you guys out. His knocks sped up the longer it took for Steve to release you both.

“Harrington, hurry up! I gotta take my girlfriend on our first date!”

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deans-queen · 2 months ago

Text

I Remember It🧣

Pairing: Jensen x Reader (Y/N)

Summary: Reader has been thinking a lot about her past relationship with Jensen, and she wishes things could have ended differently

Inspired by the Song All Too Well (Taylor’s Version) bold/italic text: song lyrics

Warnings: language, light smut, emotional vulnerability, sexual themes.

Reader’s POV

It’s been months, but I still think about him every single day. Jensen Ackles—my Jensen—was everything I wanted. Until he wasn’t. I never thought we’d fall apart like this, that I’d be left holding pieces of a love so strong it could shatter me. But now here I am, sitting in my quiet apartment, listening to “All Too Well (Taylor’s Version)” and staring at the old scarf I wore the day we met.

“I left my scarf there, and you’ve still got it in your drawer even now…”

The words of Taylor’s song hit me right where it hurts the most. God, it was so stupidly perfect, the way we’d fallen for each other. I can still remember the way his hands felt on my body, his touch slow and deliberate, the way his lips would trace along my neck. The way he’d make me feel like I was the center of his world. He’d whisper things in my ear, dirty words that would set me on fire, make me crave him even more.

“Y/N, baby, you drive me wild…” he’d say, his voice low and husky, right before he’d kiss me, deep and consuming, pulling me into a world where nothing else existed but us.

And I gave everything to him. I wanted to drown in him, in his love, his touch, his passion. But looking back, maybe that was the problem. I gave him too much of myself, and he took it without realizing just how fragile I was. How fragile we both were.

“You call me up again just to break me like a promise, so casually cruel in the name of being honest.”

God, how that line hits me every time. He didn’t mean to break me, but he did. One night, after another fight, he just… walked away. He said we needed space, that we were moving too fast. But what he really meant was that I wasn’t enough to keep him grounded, to keep him here.

My heart still aches when I think about the last time we were together. We had one of those rare moments where everything was perfect again. We were tangled up in the sheets, my body pressed against his, our breaths heavy and shallow. He whispered my name in that deep, raspy voice, his fingers tracing my curves like he was memorizing every inch of me. I kissed him then, slowly, letting him know I wasn’t ready to let go, that I would always want more.

His lips were soft against mine, tasting like the whiskey we’d been drinking. He bit my bottom lip gently, making me moan into his mouth, and then he chuckled. That low, sexy sound that used to make me melt. “You like that, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice dark, teasing, the way he always did when he knew he had me.

I did. God, I loved it. I loved every second of being with him.

But I knew in that moment that it was slipping away. Even as we touched, as we kissed and lost ourselves in the heat of the moment, I could feel it—the distance growing between us. The way he would pull back, emotionally, even as his hands pulled me closer physically.

“And maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much. But maybe this thing was a masterpiece ‘til you tore it all up.” I whisper the words to myself, feeling the tears burn my eyes. Maybe that’s what happened. Maybe I was too much for him, and he wasn’t ready for all I had to give.

I wish I could say it didn’t still hurt, but it does. Every time I close my eyes, I see him, smell him, taste him. I remember the way his breath would catch when I touched him, the way he’d look at me like I was his entire world. And yet, it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.

I wipe my tears and grab the scarf, pulling it to my chest. It still smells like him, faintly, like leather and cologne. I wonder if he ever thinks about me, if he ever regrets walking away. Does he still have my scarf? Does he ever pull it out of the drawer and think about what we could have been?

Time won’t fly, it’s like I’m paralyzed by it, I’d like to be my old self again, but I’m still trying to find it.

The truth is, I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same again. Loving Jensen changed me, broke me in ways I never expected. But I don’t regret it. I’ll never regret loving him, even if it still hurts like hell.

I close my eyes and lean back against the couch, the scarf wrapped tightly around my fingers, remembering the love that was once ours. And even though I wish things had ended differently, I can’t help but smile through the tears, because for a moment, I had him. I had him all too well.

It’s been weeks since I last thought of Jensen. Or at least that’s what I’ve been trying to tell myself. But deep down, I knew I never really let him go. The pain has softened into a dull ache, but it’s still there, lingering just beneath the surface.

I’m curled up on the couch, sipping coffee, wearing his old flannel—yeah, I know, pathetic—when I hear a knock at the door. My heart skips a beat. I’m not expecting anyone, and for a split second, I think maybe it’s Victoria. But when I open the door, I nearly drop my mug.

It’s him. Jensen, standing there, looking exactly the way I remember him. His piercing green eyes lock onto mine, and suddenly, I’m transported back to all those moments we shared. The nights filled with whispered promises, stolen kisses, and passion that felt too big for either of us to handle.

“Y/N,” he breathes my name like a prayer, his voice low and strained. I can see the weight of everything hanging between us, the words unsaid, the pain we caused each other. “I—I know I don’t deserve to be here, but I had to see you.”

I cross my arms over my chest, trying to protect myself from the whirlwind of emotions rushing in. “Why now, Jensen? After everything, why are you here?”

He steps closer, his eyes filled with regret. “I messed up. I know I hurt you, and it’s taken me too damn long to admit that. But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you—about us.”

My throat tightens, and I struggle to hold back the tears. “You walked away, Jensen. You left me here, broken. And now you just show up and expect what? For me to forget all of that?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, that familiar gesture that once made me weak in the knees. “I know I can’t undo the past. I wish I could. But I need you to know, I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Part of me wants to slam the door in his face, tell him to leave and never come back. But another part—the part that still loves him, still aches for him—won’t let me.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

He takes another step toward me, close enough that I can smell his familiar scent—leather, whiskey, and something distinctly Jensen. “Let me prove it to you,” he murmurs, his eyes searching mine. “Please, Y/N. Let me show you that I’m not going anywhere this time.”

I can’t help but look away, my heart hammering in my chest. The memories of him are overwhelming—the good, the bad, all of it. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. But then I feel his fingers gently touch my chin, lifting my face to meet his gaze.

“I never should have left you,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “You were everything to me, and I was too scared to admit it. I was an idiot, and I didn’t deserve you then. But I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving I do now, if you’ll give me the chance.”

His lips hover close to mine, and despite every defense I’ve built, I can feel myself leaning into him. “Jensen…” I whisper, my voice breaking.

He closes the distance between us, his mouth crashing onto mine in a kiss that’s both desperate and familiar. The world fades away, and all I can feel is him—his hands in my hair, his body pressing against mine, the heat between us igniting instantly. It’s like no time has passed, like we’ve been waiting for this moment all along.

“God, I missed you,” he breathes against my lips, his voice thick with desire. His hands slide down my back, gripping me possessively as he deepens the kiss, his tongue teasing mine. I moan softly, giving in to the fire that’s been burning in me for him all this time.

He pulls back just enough to look into my eyes, his breath coming in heavy, ragged bursts. “I want you, Y/N. I always have. I never stopped wanting you. But it’s not just that. I need you. I need us.”

His words make me tremble, and I know I’m already too far gone to push him away. I’ve wanted this—wanted him—for so long. But I can’t let him break me again. I need to be sure.

“You hurt me, Jensen,” I whisper, my voice shaking as the tears I’ve been holding back finally spill over. “You left me, and I don’t know if I can go through that again.”

He cups my face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “I know, baby. I know. And I swear to you, I will never hurt you like that again. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me.”

The vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion in his eyes—it’s too much. My defenses crumble, and before I can stop myself, I’m kissing him again, hard and desperate, like I’ve been starving for him all this time. He responds with equal intensity, his hands roaming my body, pulling me against him like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.

We stumble backward into my apartment, lips never breaking contact, and I’m lost in him again. Lost in the heat, the passion, the love that never really faded.

As we collapse onto the couch, his body pressing me into the cushions, I know this time it’s different. This time, he’s here to stay. And maybe—just maybe—we can pick up the pieces of what we lost.

“And I remember it all too well…”, and so does he.

Authors Note:

Hope you enjoyed this story! It’s been in my drafts FOREVER, and I’m so glad I finally got the chance to post it. And also if this song doesn’t make you cry then are you even human ??? 😭Feel free to let me know what you think! I always love reading feedback!

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httpscomexe · 3 months ago

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Ensnared 3

Summary: You’ve never been one to follow your dreams, and for a reason. But after you finally learn the truth, you know there’s no turning back.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Yandere!Logan Howlett x PlusSize!Reader

Warnings: (Individual warnings per chapter) THIS IS A DARK CHAPTER. Implication of death, panic, anxiety, lies, language, description of death, fever dreams, reader can see into the future, description of past injury, blood, violence, hallucinations, yandere, this is getting dark already. I beg of you, read the warnings, and MINORS do NOT interact. This chapter is NOT suited for people of a young age or anyone who cannot stand the description of death including blood. I will not change my fic plans because somebody decided not to read the warnings. Thank you.

Tags: @sammyluvsfics

Word Count: 3426 (Find all chapters here) Chapter 4

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

P.P.S. Everything with a gruesome description or horrifying act will also be in bold italic.

I CANNOT stress it enough, do NOT read this if you are sensitive.

You don’t know where you are when you wake up.

It felt surreal. Or like a horribly placed fever dream.

It was dark. You couldn’t see anything, but you felt a cold breeze as the feeling of ice cold air brushed your bare shoulder.

One thing was for sure.

You weren’t in the mansion.

You were someplace else. Somewhere you’ve never been before.

Then there’s a blood boiling scream from outside of the room you were in, your vision starting to adjust to the darkness just as the door swings open. The light from the outside of the room is bright, but something about your vision didn’t seem real.

“Get the fuck on the bed!” A voice says as a girl is dragged into the room by her hair, then a booming sound before another scream erupts from the girl's throat. “I said get the fuck on the bed!” The man shouts again as the girl quickly scrambles to her feet, a limp now in her step before she makes it to the bed, quickly crawling next to you but you scramble back a little.

“What-!” Is all you can manage. The man and woman seem to be shadows as they get closer, they don't have a face.

And they also don’t seem to see you.

“Please!” The girl screams as the man crawls on top of her, his gun pointed under her jaw with his index finger resting on the trigger of the weapon. “I’ll behave! I’m sorry!” She shouts, a little too loud for his liking as he raises his hand and brings the back of his hand straight against her cheek, causing her to yelp in pain.

“Just shut the fuck up.” He growls, but his voice seems more distant as he says each word. Then the room seems to still, and when you look up again, both faceless shadows are staring at you. The distant sound of a thousand whispers crowding your brain.

But then it all goes quiet.

Too quiet…

You turn your head left and right, moving quickly until your back is against the headboard of the bed. And nothing happens for a moment.

Everything is still, and your eyes are once again trying to adjust to the darkness.

Then you hear footsteps… Quick, light, footsteps.

“RUN!” It screams, the bloodied white face with dark black eyes staring into your soul before quickly disappearing in the dark, but you continue to scream, tears streaming down your face, but whispers continue to scream in your ears as you cry, covering your ears with your palms as they scream wake up.

“Wake up-“

“WAKE UP!”

“Wake up bubba, come on…”

Your eyes shoot open, and you sit up so fast you’re surprised you don’t get whiplash as a force tries to keep you down.

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down.” A voice tells you, and you finally start to come back to your senses.

“Stop!” You try to scream, but a hand covers your mouth as weight presses down on your entire body. You could breathe, but you were terrified.

“Shh… Honey you’re okay…” A voice tells you, the softness calming you down along with the gentle strokes as he brushes your hair with his fingers, massaging your scalp gently, finally getting you to calm down. Your eyes landing on Logans, reality coming back to you as you realise his hand is laid over your mouth, and his body was laid over yours.

“L-” You mumble behind his hand, and he removes it as he realises you’re calmed down. “Logan?” You whisper, looking around the room. “What- What happened?”

“I don’t know, I think you were having a nightmare. You were talking then you started screaming and crying so I just-” He blurts it all out at once, his fingers gently but urgently combing through your hair as if calming you was the most important thing in his life, and his lips kissing around your face everywhere but your lips with urgency, making you scrunch up a little but you begin to giggle, his kisses tickling your face and stopping your tears.

“Lo- Logan I’m okay…” You tell him and he places one last kiss to your cheek, lasting a little longer than the others, you can feel how tense he is, and looking down you can see how his muscles flex, genuine worry showing on his face. “Can you get off please?”

He does, pushing himself up and off of you, lying back next to you as you sit up.

“How’s your leg?” He asks, sitting up next to you and leaning over your lap to inspect your thigh. You look over at his alarm clock, it was already four in the morning, you suddenly felt bad for waking him so early, but he seemed so intent on making sure you were alright.

“It definitely needs to be replaced, you might’ve broken a stitch when you were struggling.” He tells you, getting up from the bed and leaving to his bathroom to retrieve something, and you take a peek at your thigh, it was bleeding through the bandage the nurse had put on it definitely needed to be replaced.

“Yea, okay.” You move off the bed a little, making an effort to stand and it hurts your leg as you do. You hear a drawer close and look up to see Logan standing in thought. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have my bandages here, I think they’re back at my place.”

“Your place?” You limp over to him, and he nods as his eyes move to look at him.

“Yea, I go there a lot.” He sighs a little. “I can go down to the nurses office, but it might be locked right now.” You nod a little.

“It’s probably locked. Do you have anything in your car maybe?”

“I don’t. If you want, we can both head down to my place though, then come back before morning.” You think about it. You really didn’t want to leave the mansion.

“Can I just stay here? I’m tired. I’ll just wrap it with an old shirt for now.” You shrug and he nods, going to his dresser and pulling out an old shirt, but you could see the disappointment in his eyes. You knew he wanted you to go with him, but you didn’t feel… right…

He bends down, wrapping the shirt around your thigh to at least prevent some of the bleeding.

“Of course you can stay, I’ll be gone a few hours, but I’ll be back before the nurse wakes up.” He tells you. “I just… have to get something then I’ll be on my way.” He comes back to you, hugging you before going to leave the room. “Get some sleep.” He tells you, then leaves the room. You limp back to the bed. Of course you weren’t going to actually attempt to go back to sleep. You lie awake for a solid hour before your body tells you to rest. Your vision going black as sleep finally chases you. He will be back tomorrow morning.

“Help.”

You hear a whisper, and your eyes shoot open again, and your back in the room.

“Y/N, you need to hide.” The voice was scared, the girl sounded as if she had been crying. But she sounded so… familiar…

“Don’t listen to him.” You couldn’t see who was talking, but it sounded so familiar, like it was a voice you heard every day. Your dreams have always been known to be right. But normally they aren’t so… demonic.

“HELP!” The voice screams. It was in pure agony.

“He’ll kill you! He’ll-!”

The voice cuts off, a loud bang replacing her cries.

You look back and forth, expecting another face to pop in front of you, scaring the absolute shit out of you again. But it doesn’t happen.

So you take the risk.

You get off the bed, the sound of the floor creaking sounds distant as you make your way to the door. Taking a deep breath before placing your palm on the handle, but pausing.

You know it’s a dream… but… it all felt so real.

You take the risk, opening the door and taking a single step out, the hinges on the door also sounding distant as you make your way down the void of a hall. Everything black except a light hanging from a single chain, lighting up the dark void as a tall figure stands under it.

“Hello?” You didn’t understand why you bothered speaking, obviously your dreams wouldn’t be able to hear you.

“Sit. Down.” The figure tells you, a chair suddenly coming to form. But you don’t move. “I said sit down!” It yells, and you move quickly to the chair, but it seems as if you’re forced to rather than moving at your own will, like the vision has control of your body.

The moment you look back up though, you’re staring down the barrel of a gun, and you freeze.

“Why don’t you just listen to me, bub? After everything I’ve done for you!” You’re pushed back in the chair, and it tips over as you fall to the floor. Another room around you as you stay on the floor, your palms against the ground.

You stand up quickly, almost tripping over something on the ground as you look down at your hands, some sort of liquid on your hands before your eyes trail down to the floor again, and you scream.

“Vincent?” You get to your knees, your hands hesitantly hovering over her as you look down at her, her eyes open in shock, and her jaw slack, and her face white.

“Her-” Her voice cracks.

“What?”

“Her!” She screams now, then she continues to scream the word, over and over, until it was ringing in your head.

“Her! Her! Her! Her! Her! Her! Her! Her! Her! Her! Her! Her!”

“STOP!” You scream, your hands covering your ears, and your eyes closed tight.

And then it stops.

Your eyes open. Vincent's face barely an inch from yours, tears streaming down her face, her mascara running down with her tears. And a trail of blood seeping down from the hole in her forehead, running down the centre of her nose until it stopped at her open, chapped lips.

“Why would you be interested in someone like her?”

You inhale a deep breath, as if you were being held under water, and a pain to your thigh causes you to knee something hard.

“Fuck!” Logan stumbles back, one of his hands holding his nose as his other hand curls into a fist at his side, and you immediately stumble forward towards him, ignoring the pain shooting through your body as you put pressure into your leg.

“Shit I’m sorry Logan, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay.” He tells you, gently grabbing your shoulders and steadying you. “Get back on the bed, I was wrapping your thigh.” He demands, harsher than he means to and you look down at your thigh, the original bandage taken off, your wound currently exposed.

Vincent.

“Okay.” You move back, sitting half on the bed so your thigh is accessible.

“Thank you…” He mumbles, leaning down as he uses the bandages he placed on the table to wrap your thigh after spreading some cream over the wound.

“I’m sorry Logan…” You whisper, looking up at him as his eyes flicker over to you.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. But what's been going on honey?” He finishes, then sits next to you on the bed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you against his side.

“I don’t know Logan… It’s really hard to explain. I think I need to talk to Xavier.”

“Oh come on. Maybe it’ll help you clear your conscience.”

You sigh. Not sure if it was the best idea.

“I can see the future. But not clearly.”

“So…” He pauses for a moment, trying to understand you. “You can heal people, and you can see into the future. But not completely?”

“I can’t even heal people the way you think I can.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I heal people, yes, it removes their injuries, but it transfers it onto my body.”

“So… essentially. If someone was stabbed, and you ‘heal’ them-” He makes air quotes with his fingers. “-the stab wound would be transferred onto your body?”

You nod. “Yea, and normally in my visions I can’t see faces, only shadows… But this time-” You pause, not sure if you should tell him. Vincent was dead.

“Bub?”

Bub?

“Sorry-” You come back looking into his eyes. He- “-I just… I really need to find Xavier.” You tell him, quickly standing up and making your way to the door, ignoring the burning pain in your leg as you basically jog out of his room, and head straight towards Xaviers office.

“Hey are you- Umph-!” You throw yourself at him, streams of tears falling from your eyes as his hand gently rubs your back. “Hey sugar what’s wrong?” He asks, guiding you over to sit on his desk as he pulls you off of him and pulls some tissues out of a box to wipe the tears from your face. “What’s going on?” He asks again, and you finally find it in you to speak.

“I- I don’t know what’s going on. I was sleeping, then she was shot. And Vincent was dead. There was blood, so much blood. Then Lo-” You pause, not wanting to use his name yet.

“I don’t know what you’re describing at all right now.”

“My dream, I had a dream.”

“About Vincent being dead?”

“Yes, and-”

“I haven’t seen Vincent today.”

You pause. What?

“Have you?” He asks, gently pushing some hair behind your ear as you shake your head.

“Professor X-” Another student walks in, both of your heads turning towards the door to see the confused look on her face. Only then did you realise the position you were in. Sitting on Xaviers table, your legs open, with him sitting in between them.

Just as the student leaves, about to awkwardly close the door as Xavier is stepping out from between your legs, the door is held open, and Logan steps in, closing the door behind him as his eyes watch Xavier move away from you, his pupils blasting before he speaks.

“I just got a call from Vincent, she needed some help with her car, it isn’t starting.” She’s suspended. You remember, a relieved sigh leaving your throat, not acknowledging the sideways look Logan throws at you.

“What’s wrong with her car?” You ask.

“Flat tire.”

“Can I come with you?”

“You know you two don’t get along.”

“We will, I promise.”

Run.

“Are you okay?” Xavier asks suddenly, and your eyes flicker over to him.

“Yea why?”

“You blanked for a second there.”

You look around the room, taking a deep breath.

“I just think I… I really need to get out for a few hours, Logan. Please?”

He gives Xavier a look, but Xavier hesitates, looking back at you before mouthing are you sure?

You nod, hopping off the desk as you walk up to Logan. “Please?” You ask, grabbing his hand.

“Okay, but no fighting. We’ll see you later Xavier.” They exchange their goodbyes, and you both leave the office.

If you can get to Vincent, and convince her to leave, then maybe you could save her. Maybe he won’t hurt her. And maybe she’ll still be alive. You know she must still have to be alive, since Logan has been with you all day and night now.

You get into his car, an old rusted pickup truck, locking in your seatbelt before he takes off.

Wait… No he hasn’t- he left to get bandages.

“Hey Vin, what’s going-?” He pauses, no one in the car. You don’t leave his truck, he asked you not to in case you both started fighting.

“Is everything okay?” You shout out the window and he looks back over at you.

“She’s not here.” He shouts back, getting back into the driver seat.

“Why would she leave if she knew you were coming?”

“I don’t know hun.” He checks his phone, a new message popping up on his screen, from Vincent, and you peek over at it.

“Alright, stay here, I’m gonna connect it to the truck.” He puts his phone down in the centre and gets out of the truck again, opening the back to get something about before slamming it shut, the sound making you jump a little in your seat, and a clicking sound happens as your seatbelt locks. Dammit… You go to unbuckle it, to reset it, but it doesn’t unclick.

“Alright.” You jump at the sound of his voice and he starts the engine while staring at you. “Are you okay? Why’re you so jumpy today?”

“I must just be tired, sorry.” He nods a little.

“Okay well… It says she’s at my place, so we're just gonna go pick her up then we’ll go back to the mansion.” He tells you, not fastening his seat belt as he drives off, Vincent's car hooked to the back of his truck.

“How long of a drive is it?”

“Just up the road, walking distance.” He tells you, pressing on the gas as he drives just a few minutes up the road, turning into the trees and onto a gravel driveway, a small cabin eventually showing through a small clearing.

“Is that it?” You ask, voice sounding meek.

“Yea, that’s it. Small but- I barely come here anyways.” He parks in front of the cabin and turns off the engine, beginning to step out.

“Wait Logan I-” He slams the truck door shut, and it feels like your heart falls to your stomach as you frantically click at the red button on the seat belt, but it won’t come loose. You’re stuck.

“Here.” You jump again as your door is opened and Logan reaches over you, sticking a metal pin into the side of the buckle before pressing the red button, and it comes loose. “There you go.” He groans as he steps back down and moves to the back of the truck and you quickly jump out. “Can you go in and find Vincent? She said she’s in the bathroom.”

You nod, and head inside, the door cracked open so you assume Logan has already been inside. So why didn’t he look? You wonder, taking the first step in and the wood creaks under your foot. The inside would be pitch black if the sun wasn’t shining through the window, though there would be a lot more light if there weren't trees surrounding the little cabin.

“Vincent?” You shout out, closing the front door behind you. As you look around, it all seems so familiar. The creaking floor, the dark walls, and the single bulb hanging from a single chain. “Uh… Vincent?” You shout again, more quietly this time. Making your way to the bedroom, peeking in but not seeing anything, then looking in the bathroom across the bedroom. “Vin?” You peek your head in, and flick the switch on. Still nothing.

Except for the quiet dripping sound coming from the faucet. You sigh in relief, but wonder where Vincent was. Maybe there’s a backdoor and she’s out talking with Logan right now? You assume, hoping for the best as you walk to the tub, the curtains covering the inside as you reach behind them, turning the handle all the way off on the tub before pulling back. Your palm is covered in blood. “Fuck.” You mumble, but it comes out as more of a whisper as you squeeze your eyes closed, hoping it wasn’t real, that it was just another nightmare.

You take a deep breath, and you take a step forward, slowly pushing the curtain aside. But there she was. Vincent laid in the bathtub, her mascara painting her cheeks black and-

You turn, running out of the bathroom as your stomach twists in disgust, and you make your way to the front door, trying to pull it open, but it doesn’t budge.

“Shit-!” You cry, then the door opens and you zoom forward before looking, running straight into Logan. “Logan-!” You freeze, his hands on your arms holding you still.

“What- Oh.” He tilts his head a little. “I take it you found Vincent.”

#marvel #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #x reader #wolverine #logan howlett #logan x reader #yandere #dark #tw noncon #xmen #xavier

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starks-hero · 2 years ago

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what a lovely inconvenience

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Summary: Sherlock Holmes pushes your buttons like no one else. So when a case leaves you stranded in a hotel room with only one bed you worry that Scotland Yard might have a new murder case on their hands.

Word Count: 1.0k

authors note: Writing a different dynamic between Sherlock and the Reader for a change to acknowledge the fact that irl I wouldn't be able to spend more than ten minutes with him before attempting murder.

“Would you please just go to sleep.”

“If you quit taking up half of the bloody mattress maybe I would,” you bit back, pulling at the covers defiantly.

It wasn't often Sherlock left London for a case but when he did he rarely went alone. And given how you were currently sharing a bed with said detective in an oh-so-unflattering hotel in rural Scotland it would seem apparent that you were the unfortunate soul he'd chosen as a sidekick for this particular outing.

The hotel was dull, exceedingly so. The wallpaper seemed ancient, peeling away at the corners and the aged furniture was placed in such a way that it swallowed up the dismal amount of space the room already offered. The entire setup was worsened further by the hotel's location; unpleasantly sandwiched between a bar and a flat complex whose tenants were... vocal, to say the least.

Not to mention the fact that Sherlock wouldn't. stop. moving.

He pulled the cover back harshly, leaving you defenseless against the cold. “Bold words coming from the one that hasn't gifted me with so much as an inch of blanket. Not to mention you've hogged all the pillows.”

“Hogged all the–” you swiveled to face him. “How many pillows do you need?”

“Another one.”

You blinked twice, already calculating how long you'd spend behind bars if you resorted to murder. “Why? Can't fit your ego on the one you've already got?”

At that, Sherlock turned so you were face to face. His glower contended with your own.

“If you must know I need another to block out the sound of your insufferable talking.”

“I can't deal with this.” You tossed back the covers, begrudgingly snatching up a pillow and thin bed sheet, and strode across the room. Sherlock watched as you sprawled out on the sofa, sinking so far into the poorly made furniture it was almost comedic.

There was a beat of quiet. Then another.

“If you're waiting for me to apologize or rush to trade places you'll be waiting all night.”

"I'm sure I'll survive.” you quipped bitterly.

Sherlock, as he'd promised, didn't argue. He grabbed the spare pillow somewhat victoriously, bundled the covers around him, and turned on his side.

Meanwhile, you were already struggling not to admit defeat. Metal springs dug into your back in three separate places, the fabric caused your skin to itch and it was beyond freezing without the bed cover. You would never have described yourself as a particularly proud person, you could admit when you were wrong. But when it came to Sherlock, you'd rather stay on the couch.

Time crawled by agonizingly slow. The red italic numbers of the alarm clock across the room shone through the dark almost mockingly. You'd given up on sleep, the moment the first light of morning seeped through the poorly hung curtains you were out of there. You'd take sitting in the dingey hotel reception alone and tired over watching Sherlock waking up satisfied with his extra cushions and soft mattress as his spoils of war.

“You look ridiculously uncomfortable,” the detective's voice cut through the quiet of the room.

You pulled your excuse of a blanket over your head. “I'm fine.”

You heard Sherlock sigh, followed by the shifting of the mattress. “I can see you trembling from here.”

“I'm sure I'll soldier on through.”

“If it was a point you were trying to get across then consider it made. Now, will you please just get over here and get some sleep before the sun comes up.”

At the offer, you reemerged from your makeshift cocoon like an easily bribed butterfly. “Relax Holmes, if you wanted me in bed that bad you should have just said so.” You spoke the words into your pillow, slurred from exhaustion and dripping with sarcasm.

Regardless, Sherlock was thankful of how well the darkened room hid his blush. He cleared his throat and turned back on his side. He'd been doing an admirable job at keeping whatever it was he felt about you to himself and he wasn't about to undergo the embarrassment of having you find out simply because he spent more than twelve hours in your vicinity.

Briefly noting to never be the bigger person again, Sherlock closed his eyes and prepared to leave you to your self-inflicted misery. Then he heard feet padding across the floor.

The covers pulled back and the mattress dipped as you silently joined him. You stretched out and sighed in relief when the mattress pressed softly against your aching muscles rather than biting into your back. You pulled experimentally at the covers and Sherlock let you gain an inch. But only that.

“Was that so hard?” He asked.

“Extremely.”

Turning over as quietly as he could, Sherlock noted how your back was to him, how the plane of spare mattress between you was so wide you could easily fit another couple there. How you almost hung from the side of the bed. Sherlock wouldn't have called what he felt in that moment guilt, but it was very similar.

“You know, if it truly makes you uncomfortable I can sleep on the sofa for the night.” His offer was genuine and he hoped you picked up on it.

There was a long moment of quiet, Sherlock giving in to the fact that you'd probably fallen into sleep the moment your head hit the pillow.

“I was kidding, you know.” Your voice came as a surprise. “It's more of a hindrance than anything, sharing a bed with someone that kicks in their sleep."

Sherlock smiled in the dark. “Not as much a hindrance as sharing one with a degenerate blanket stealer.”

There was an unfamiliar tone to his voice, one that, had you not been two blinks from sleep, you would have mistaken for humourous.

“You know, you're kind of endearing when you're sleep deprived,” you thought, too tired to have realized you'd said the words aloud.

“Funny,” Sherlock watched as you turned on your side and rolled towards the middle of the bed. Your nose twitched adorably and with the security the dark offered, Sherlock let himself smile over it. “I was just about to say the same thing to you.”

He was certain you were gone now, chest falling rhythmically and lips parting to make way for quiet snores. He didn't blame you, your alarm had woken you early this morning.

You didn't know he'd noticed, of course, just as you didn't know how he noticed many little things about you. Not things of importance, nothing essential he would have to file away in his mind palace. Just simple everyday things that were unmistakably you. Things he recalled not because he needed to but because he wanted to.

There was something about you, Sherlock simply couldn't shake it. But that was a dilemma he needed at least a good night's rest to solve.

He closed his eyes, not so much as complaining when you stole the covers in your sleep.

thank you for reading!

Sherlock tag list: @miraclesoflove @ilovefanfictions @mylovelysnowflake @quentawewe @bakerstreethound @andreasworlsboring101 @doozywoozy @xxinvisiblexx @the-worst-critic @the-queer-dungeoneer @jellyfishbeansontoast @starrykitn @starryeddie @ladymercury8 @themorningsunshine @evelynrosestuff @mywellspringoflife @simp-for-scammanders @Xhz17x @allieberries @kealohilani-tepise

#*gasps* there was only one bed #clichè but ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯#also two fics in one night? who do I think I am?#sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes x reader #bbc sherlock x reader #sherlock x you #bbc sherlock imagine #sherlock imagine #sherlock holmes x you #bbc sherlock

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heart-of-the-morningstar · 7 months ago

Text

Dress Up: Part 3 - Second Preview

Thank you all for yelling at me last night! I got some more story for ya! I want to finish this chapter within the next few days, but I hope you enjoy this :)

Italic lines - 2nd Lucifer is speaking

Bold and Italic lines - Both Lucifers are speaking

Warnings: Oral (f receiving) but not a lot because I gotta leave you wanting more hehe~

"Now sweetheart, I never said "no", now did I?" you heard a familiar soothing voice echo behind you.

You turned your head slowly, only to see an identical Lucifer sitting next to you on the opposite side. You gulped and smiled warily. The other Lucifer grabbed your hand and kissed it delicately.

"You...you want this?" you turned to your Lucifer as the other continually kissed up your arm.

Lucifer beamed at you, taking your other hand. "More than you know! If I'm given the chance to provide you with as much pleasure as I possibly can, I will never turn down that opportunity! Besides, I do owe you from the reception, and I intend to pay it back tenfold."

You didn't think your face could get any more beet red. Your lips met with your Lucifer once more, his tongue gliding across your bottom lip, begging for entrance, to which you happily obliged. The other Lucifer found his way to your neck, now sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin. You had barely begun, and your adrenaline had skyrocketed. You had to pull yourself away before you wouldn't be able to stop yourself.

"I...I'd like to clean up first, if that's alright," you chuckled. Your Lucifer grinned, with both of them standing up and offering you their hands.

"Shall we?" they spoke in unison.

Your face flushed as you took each of their hands, pulling yourself up from the bed. They led you to the illustrious bathroom that was connected to your bedroom. It was way too grand for just a couple. Well, at least you three would take up just a little more space. You stripped out of your reception dress quickly, your lovers following suit. The shower itself could have easily fit everyone on in the hotel inside, but the three of you planned to use the space to your advantage. Once the shower was heated to your liking, you stepped in tentatively, letting the hot water relax your body. You didn't realize how stiff you had been. Perhaps the cause were the two men that just stepped in the shower to join you. One stepped around behind you, the other in front. Perfectly sandwiched between two God-like figured. Her heart threatened to beat out of your chest as you felt two hands gently massage your shoulders while two more thumbed circles around your hips.

"It's alright, darling," your Lucifer spoke calmy from behind. "We'll go at the pace you're most comfortable with, yeah? If you need to stop at any point, say the word and we'll be done." You nodded your head, giving them the 'okay' to continue.

"Let's get you all nice and clean now, love," the other Lucifer cooed. He passed the bottle of shampoo to your Lucifer while he lathered his hands with soap. You felt a pair of hands massaging your scalp ever so gently as they thoroughly scrubbed your soft hair, detangling any knots that may have formed. Two more hands roamed your skin, gliding across every inch of it. Starting at your neck, moving across to your shoulders, down to your breasts. Your breath hitched and you giggled, noticing how long his hands lingered in the specific area. His hands finally moved down lower, to your stomach and your hips, only to reach around and give a few light squeezes to your ass. You knew he was going to be touchy, especially considering it's been an entire week since he's been able to feel you like this. And you weren't going to deny him.

You rinsed your hair, watching the other Lucifer lower himself onto his knees to wash your legs, starting at your calves and working his way up to your thighs. After a few seconds, you noticed his hands have not left your thighs; he continued to run his hands along them delicately but desperately, almost begging for something more. You looked down at him only to be met with pleading eyes. It suddenly clicked with you. Wordlessly, you spread your legs apart slightly, allowing him access to the one area of you that you knew he wanted. That he needed. You let out a few shaky breaths before you at last felt his digits glide along your folds. You didn't know how much you missed the feeling of his fingers until he began his ministrations, easily finding your sensitive nub in the process. You mewled as your Lucifer turned your head to capture your sounds on his lips. You felt the other Lucifer's fingers enter you slowly, causing you to moan into your Lucifer's mouth. He swallowed it happily. You felt him languidly thrust his fingers in and out of you, your walls clenching around them.

"Now this is heaven," your Lucifer whispered against your collarbone. "I can finally tell you how wonderful you taste on my tongue." Without warning, the Lucifer beneath you gripped your thighs and plugged his face into your aching pussy, your knees nearly buckling under its own weight. Luckily, Lucifer caught you and held you close to his chest as the hot water continued to loosen every muscle in your body.

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #preview #my writing #blue balled once again!#it's my love language :3

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luvrhischier · 1 year ago

Text

losing game // trevor zegras

part 2

pairing: trevor zegras × reader

word count: 3.1k (might have gone a little overboard)

a/n: based on the song arcade by duncan laurence. lyrics are in bold italics (jumped around a lot and changed some lyrics to fit the story). no use of y/n.

a/n two: this is my offering to hockey tumblr pls let me in (f1 offering coming soon maybe idk).

warnings: mentions of sex but no actual smut (bc i suck at writing it), alcohol, angst with no happy ending

You watched as he collected his clothes and put them back on. Turning to you when he reached your bedroom door.

“Bye, babe. See you later.” He winked and left.

Silence ringing inside my head.

You sat up, one hand clutching a blanket to cover your bare body, the other running through your now messy hair trying to tame it. It didn't help. After ten minutes of complete silence and staring off into space you finally dropped the blanket and stood up. You walked over and stared at yourself through your full length mirror, examining your body and all of its features in the lightly lit room. You began to wonder why he didn't feel the same. Of course he wasn't obligated to, but still it made you feel like there was something wrong with you.

A broken heart is all that's left. I lost a couple of pieces.

You both had agreed to this. Friends with benefits in private, best friends in public. Nothing more, nothing less. However, now you felt a small piece of your heart get chipped away every time you hooked up.

Jamie had warned you both that this wasn't a good idea and that it would probably end in disaster, after he accidentally walked in on the two of you, but neither you listened. Both swearing that the two of you would never be anything more than friends, who occasionally hooked up. Now you wished you had listened.

The way Trevor now made you feel was unlike anything you had ever felt. Before he grew to understand your body, even better than you did, and what made it fall apart in those moments of tangled limbs, lips moving in sync, heavy breathing, and extreme pleasure, the two of you were just each other’s best friend. Through the good, the bad, and the ugly. You never wanted anything more until a few months in and you hated yourself for it. You couldn’t help it though Trevor's fun and loving nature carried over into those moments of close intimacy. It made your stomach to erupt with butterflies.

You finally silenced your thoughts and rummaged through your dresser for new clothes. You then picked up the clothes you formerly wore, the pieces scattered across your bedroom floor, tossing them into your laundry basket. You sighed deeply and returned to lay in your bed. You quickly stood up again as small tears began to build in your eyes. You didn't want to lay in the bed you just sex on. In fact, you didn't even want to be in your room. His scent was everywhere. His cologne was all over your bed and the smell began to spread around you like wildfire. You knew it wasn't going away anytime soon, it never did.

You collected yourself and headed to your bedroom door when you saw a crumpled up shirt hiding in a corner of your room. You picked it up and instantly realized it was Trevor's. It was the shirt he was wearing underneath his hoodie and he must have forgotten about it. You tried to stop yourself from taking off your old tattered tee and putting his shirt on instead but you failed. You stood there in shameful silence before finally heading to your living room.

You noticed a glass slightly filled with water sat next to the sink, Trevor must have stopped to get himself a drink before he left. You just wanted to take a nap so you left it there as you went to lay on your couch.

You opened Netflix, just playing a random show you knew you weren't really going to watch, you just wanted to end the silence that flowed through your apartment and sleep.

────

You opened your eyes slowly, trying not to be blinded the bright light coming from the t.v. You didn't want to sit up, you just wanted to lay there until you sank into the cushions. You finally checked the time, 8:56 pm, you had slept there for over six hours. You felt your heart stop when your phone began to ring and the screen showed Trevor's name and a picture of the two of you from years ago. You didn't want to pick up but your fingers didn't listen to your heart or your brain.

“Hey babe.” God you hated that nickname so much, it made your heart both shatter and melt.

“Hey Trev,” you groggily mumbled as you stood up heading back to your room. You looked over at your bed and flashbacks from earlier played in your head. Trevor laying on top of you, his lips on your neck, and his hands roaming your body. You shook your head trying to wipe away the memory.

“So, Jamie and I spontaneously decided to throw an end of season party since everyone's here and I wanted to call to see if you'd come,” he sounded happy, excited, and a little hopeful.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun,” you tried to sound as happy as him but you failed and you knew Trevor noticed, he always did. You used to love that he knew you so well, but now it just hurt because he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, notice your true feelings for him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Nothing I'm totally fine. I just woke up from a nap and I um...” You paused, trying to think of an excuse. “I just need to take a shower and get ready. Bye, see you soon,” you heard him start to say something else but it was too late, you had ended the call. As soon as you hung up Trevor called again. You let out a frustrated groan before hitting decline. You quickly put your phone on do not disturb before he could try to call again and tossed it on your bed, you then went to your closet. You just stood there and looked at your clothes, too lazy to actually look for an outfit. You sighed and decided to take a shower before picking out an outfit.

You stepped in the shower and just stood there for awhile, letting the water run down your body hoping that it would wash away any remaining trace of him.

The hot water felt nice against your cold body but it only reminded you of the warmth you felt when you were with Trevor and you hated it.

Once you were finished you returned to your closet to finally pick an outfit. You didn't feel like getting too dressed up so you opted for something simple, a pair of leggings and a random top. Your breath hitched when you saw what top you had randomly grabbed. It was one of Trevor's team USA jerseys. You didn't even know you had this, he had been looking for it for ages.

Once again you tried to stop yourself from putting it on but you once again failed. You stood there in another shameful silence. You looked at your phone to check the time, 10:05 pm. You sighed before grabbing a random pair of shoes and your keys.

The drive to Trevor and Jamie's house was a quiet one, no music, just the sound of your car tires on the road, passing cars, and your quiet breathing. When you got closer to his house you could see a long line of cars parked along the street and what seemed like never ending groups of people walking through the door. A tiny voice inside your head begged you to turn around immediately and drive back home but it was too late. You had driven all the way here.

You were hit with the smell of booze as soon as you got out of the car. A small part of you wanted to throw up but the rest of you wanted to drink until you blacked out and forgot about him.

The music was loud and people were everywhere making it hard to walk through the crowd full of drunk kids with sweaty bodies. However, the kitchen was less crowded. Vodka was the first thing you saw so that's what you filled your cup with.

You heard a loud and dramatic gasp followed by a familiar laugh and turned to see Jack rushing towards you with open arms.

“I missed you so much!” He beamed and hugged you tightly. You could tell he was a bit drunk by how his words were starting to slur together.

“I missed you more, Jack,” you laughed. “Jack, sweetie you’re suffocating me,” you jokingly muttered out.

“Oops, my bad,” he laughed as he pulled away. He noticed the cup in your hand and grabbed it before taking a quick sip. Before you could jokingly get on to him Luke walked in. You knew he must have been his turn to be on ‘watch drunk Jack duty' by the look on his face.

“There you are! I swear I'm going to a harness and leash so you can’t wander off and I don't have to run around while having a heart attack trying to find you,” he said, slightly out of breath from running around the house and through the sea of people, trying to find Jack. Jack just smiled and shrugged his shoulders causing Luke to roll his eyes. He looked over at you and smiled. “What's up, I missed you!” He exclaimed towards you before pulling you into a quick hug.

“I missed you too,” you smiled back. Before he could reply you both turned to where Jack was once standing only to find that he had wondered off again. Luke rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.

“I have to go find him again before he does something stupid,” he said begrudgingly. “I'll come back once I find him. I wanna hear about how annoying Zegras has been this season,” he joked while he ran off to find Jack once more.

The mention of his name made your heart feel like it was being ripped out of your chest and squeezed right in front of you. Wanting to distract yourself you looked around and skimmed over the crowd. You didn't want to admit that you were looking for him, but you were. You were about to take a drink of the vodka in your hands when you finally found him. You cursed every single higher being for the sight in front of you. There he was in the corner talking, dancing, and obviously flirting with some blonde girl. Their hands were all over the other’s body and they were close, too close, it made your body go numb. You felt completely defeated.

We were always a losing game.

Now your heart felt like it completely stopped working. You watched as she leaned in to whisper something in his ear with a giggle. The smirk that broke out on his face could've been seen from a mile away. Your cup slipped out of your hand and you felt it splash everywhere. You looked down and let out a shaky sigh. Quickly you grabbed the roll of paper towels and fell to your knees to clean up the mess, but it became harder and harder as your eyes started to blur with tears. You heard mumbling through the ringing in your ears but you didn't look up. You just sat there on the floor furiously cleaning up the spilled alcohol.

You finally looked up when the person shouted your name and placed a hand on your shoulder, snapping you out of your trance. There stood Nico and Quinn. When they saw the tears running down your face both of their eyes filled with worry.

“What's wrong?” Nico questioned as he crouched down next to you.

“I spilled my fucking drink and I have to clean it up.”You continued scrubbing the floor.

“You've cleaned it all up,” he said softly. “You can stop now.” He gently grabbed your hand to stop you.

You looked at the floor and saw that he was right. The alcohol was gone but now it was being replaced with your tears spattering on the floor. You fully sat down on the floor and Nico followed.

“Okay, everyone out of the kitchen now!” Quinn shouted to the few people still standing around you, whispering to each other as they obviously gossiped about your breakdown. You watched as everyone listened and quickly walked away.

Quinn joined the two of you on the ground.

“Why are you crying?” Quinn asked as he scooted over to sit right next to you. You didn't want to say it was because of Trevor. You knew that no matter how much the two of them playfully argued and fought Trevor was like a third younger brother and, though he'd jokingly never admit it, he loved him. He didn't deserve to be burdened with your problems. But deep down he knew and you knew that he knew because of the look on his face.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you let out, in your opinion, a pathetically loud sob as you buried your head into his chest. Quinn didn't even care about the tears and makeup that were most definitely staining his shirt, he just cared about being there for you.

“He's over there with some girl.” you stuttered as you began to hyperventilate. “And I know I shouldn't be acting like this because we're supposed to be just friends but it hurts so fucking bad. God, this is so embarrassing. I'm so fucking stupid. I hate myself!” You lifted your head

“I need you to take some deep breaths. You need to breathe.” Nico softly said. “Breathe.” He took a deep breath of his own so you could follow along.

“Alright, who told me everyone to leave the kitchen?” Jamie interrupted as he entered the kitchen. You looked over and saw that Jack and Luke had walked in too. ‘Fuck!’ You cursed in your head. It was hard enough crying in front of Quinn and Nico, now all of your closest friends were standing there watching you sob on the floor. You watched as they all quickly sobered up.

One by one they all sat on the floor with you. All of them extremely worried. You wanted to somewhat keep your composure so you didn’t freak them out, but you couldn’t hold it in anymore you just let it all out. You knew your makeup was probably a mess and your jersey, his jersey, was covered in tears and running mascara.

“He's over there, with some girl, and they're all over each other and I'm over here crying. God I'm such an idiot!” You hiccuped. You wiped your eyes with the sleeves of his jersey. All of them instantly knew who you were talking about. “You were right Jamie. I should have listened to you. It’s okay you can say ‘I told you so’…"

“I would never do that,” he said gently.

You watched as Quinn stood up, Jack and Luke quickly followed.

“Be right back.” Quinn mumbled, trying to hide the anger in his voice. You saw the three of them clench their jaws and ball their fists. Before you could protest they were gone. Now it was just you, Jamie, and Nico. They both scooted in closer and engulfed you in a hug.

“I guess giving us up didn't take a lot to him, huh?” You forced a chuckle trying to lighten the mood and joke but neither of them laughed or even looked slightly amused. You sighed. “Deep down I saw the end before it even began, but I still carried on.” You lowered your head.

You heard someone softly say your name and you instantly knew who it was. Trevor. He had that the slight roughness in his voice, the roughness he got after a one too many drinks and you hated that it was still sending shivers down your spine.

“Please look at me.”

You don't know how or where you got the courage, maybe it was because your friends were there to support you and protect you, but not only did you look up, you stood up and marched straight up to him.

“Babe-”

“Don't call me that! I think you have made it clear that I am not really your ‘babe' so stop torturing me by saying that!” You angrily interrupted. You knew that now everyone was staring at the two of you and the scene you were making.

“What's wrong? Talk to me. Why are you crying?” His eyes were soft and you wanted to let this whole thing go and forgive him but you knew you couldn't, your heart couldn't take this anymore. He took a step towards you as his hand came up and tried to caress you face but you pushed his hand away.

“You! You're what's wrong with me! You’re why I’m crying!” You spat. “I stupidly fell in love with you and loving you is a losing game and I got addicted to it. But now l'm done with your games, I have to be because now I need to go and put myself back together. So game over. I'm getting off of this emotional rollercoaster. I am completely drained because I've spent all of the love I had on you!” Tears streamed down your face like a waterfall and you didn't care you needed to say this before you lost the courage and let him back in. “I know I was nothing more than a quick fuck to you but to me you were everything and more. So this,” you gestured between the two of you. “Whatever this is between us is over and so is our friendship. Because if I stay I'II let you back in and I will shatter into a million pieces and I will never be able to put myself back together again.” You walked past him and quickly headed towards the door.

You didn't want to stop but you remembered what you were wearing. You looked down and saw his now tear stained jersey. You turned around and Trevor was right behind you causing you to run face first into his chest, you quickly pushed him away and saw his eyes filled with hurt, panic, and tears.

“Can we please go up to my room and talk about this?” He pleaded. “I can't lose you...”

You softened for a second before regaining your composure. You didn't answer him, you just pulled his jersey over your head and threw it at him, not caring that you were now shirtless in front of all of these random people.

"Goodbye, Trevor.”

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras angst #trevor zegras blurb #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #quinn hughes #jack hughes #jamie drysdale #nico hischier #luke hughes #quinn hughes x reader #jack hughes x reader #jamie drysdale x reader #nico hischier x reader #luke hughes x reader #trevor zegras smut

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skzhua · 1 year ago

Text

Episode six.

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female Reader

genre: Fluff, angst, enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 3.1k

warnings: A lot is happening in such a short time, mentions of deceased parents, drinking, teenage behaviour, suggestive.

summary: Transferring to KISS was the last thing you had asked for and, yet, a certain tall boy made it seem both worse and better than you expected.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

(let me know by filling the form in my bio if you want to be added to the taglist!)

Min Ho walked out of his room to see you sitting at the counter, enjoying your morning coffee alone. He went to go grab his mist that stood next to your mug, passing in front of you in the process which exposed you to his shirtless figure. You groaned out of disgust.

"Can't you put a shirt on?"

"Not my fault you can't handle this?" he pointed to his muscular torso with a smirk on his face.

Misting his face with his eyes closed, he didn't notice you got off your stool to step closer to him. You eyed him up and down, checking out how hot he was.

"You're right." Your hot breath made him open his eyes. "I can't handle it."

"I'm right?"

Up on your tiptoes, you leaned closer to his ear. Min Ho felt his heart get faster and faster.

"You're too bloody hot." you whispered sensually

Taking the mist from his hand, you put it aside and slid your arms around his neck. He gulped and his eyes flickered down to your lips. He carefully placed his hands on your waist.

"I hope you're not joking." he breathed out in a low voice.

"Why would I be joking?"

"Because you hate-"

You shushed him and leaned closer to his face. Min Ho felt the pace of his heart quickened more and held you tighter. As your lips were about to touch, Min Ho shook himself awake. Sitting up on his bed, he felt the sweat drip on his forehead. Never in his life had he had such an explicit dream of someone he despised so much.

The week consisted of two things: school and Kitty's venting. As much you liked the girl, she had nothing else to talk about but her supposed-discovery that your professor was her potential brother and that Dae hadn't thanked her for giving him back her necklace. So, reading a book in the comfort of your couch was enough for her to understand you had other things to do and she continued to rant to Q. You hadn't read far because your phone rang to notify you that someone texted you.

Yuri: Sleepover tonight?

Y/N: What's the occasion?

Yuri: Nothing, I just need to get my mind off things.

Y/N: Sure.

Yuri: Are you going to Min Ho's party? We could go together.

Min Ho. Again. And again. The two of you had not talked since the accident. Not that you minded. In fact, you were quite happy to not have him around as much. Though he did start to act weirdly around you the day after. You didn't question it as he was probably getting sick of seeing you just as much as you were.

You weren't going to go to the party. He did add you to the list of guests but it wasn't your thing. Adding the fact that it was against the rules and that your aunt was the vice-principal, you didn't want to get in trouble.

Y/N: I'll see. I'll be at your place in an hour.

You packed pyjamas and clothes for the next day in your bag and went to grab your toothbrush and other necessities in the bathroom. Opening the door, Min Ho was already there putting on his night cream. As soon as he saw you, he stopped moving. You gestured for him to move aside so you can grab your things but he didn't budge.

"Min Ho." you said in a warning voice.

He cleared his throat and finally left you space. You looked at him weirdly while shoving your hairbrush in your bag. You accidentally touched one of his products as it was in the way and he gasped in panic.

"Don't touch that!"

"You're getting weirder and weirder every day." you sighed.

"What are you even doing?"

"Be glad, I'm sleeping at Yuri's tonight. A small break away from you is going to do me some good."

He forced a smile. "That's so thoughtful of you."

You arrived at Yuri's soon enough and she invited you in kindly, offering you something to drink. Walking to her living room, you saw your aunt discussing in laughter with Principal Lim. She got up as soon as she saw you and came to engulf you in a tight hug.

"I haven't heard about you in days, I was wondering how you were doing."

"I'm great. I'm sorry I couldn't spend Chuseok with you."

She shook her head vigorously. "I'm just glad you spent time with your friends."

"Y/N is among our best rising students. Her grades are impressive." Jina added. "And I'm more than happy she and Yuri get to bond."

"Mom." Yuri rolled her eyes.

"What?" she said innocently.

"We'll be in my room."

She took your hand and dragged you behind her before shutting her door. With a heavy sigh, she let herself fall on her bed.

"I'm sorry if my invitation was so sudden. I felt lonely and I'm sick of only having Dae around."

You sat next to her. "I understand. I needed a break from my dorm anyway."

She frowned. "It's not going well?"

"I was misplaced in the boys dorm." you admitted.

"Oh."

"Right, oh." you chuckled. "Don't rat me out."

She zipped her mouth to confirm you that you could trust her. "Who are you rooming with?"

"Dae."

She gasped. "No way."

"And Q, and Min Ho." you failed to mention Kitty since you didn't want to cause a fuss over it.

"Y/N, the hell?"

You shrugged your shoulders. "We manage. The guys are not that bad, I swear."

"You could have asked to change."

"I tried already but the girls' is full. It's all good, don't worry."

She didn't seem fully convinced but she didn't push it. "Alright, if you say so."

"How about you? Have you heard from Juliana?"

Her head dropped down. "I've seen her on the first day but she left to whatever school, away from me. She promised we would find each other again but I'm starting to lose hope."

You rubbed her shoulder in a comforting way. "I'm sorry you have to go through this."

She exhaled loudly. "It's okay, it's only a rough pass, right?"

You acquiesced with her. To take her mind off everything, you prompted you do some face masks while watching the movie of her choice. You definitely didn't think you'd be doing anything of that sort when coming to KISS, even less with Yuri. For once, you felt like the two of you were more than forced friends and that you genuinely were bonding.

You left with Yuri to go to school and went separate ways so she could join Dae. As for you, Q texted you to join him and Kitty before class.

The three of you went to get ice americanos and sat at a table while Kitty went on with her necklace story. You almost wished you had stayed with Yuri.

"While I would love to talk about this whole thing again, I'd rather shove scissors in my ears, no offense." you said after she moved to talking about Dae again.

Q sighed in relief. "Yes, thank you. Seriously, this whole week, all we've been hearing is Dae, necklace, Yuri, Alex, necklace, Alex, Yuri, Dae, necklace... You're like a robot that's malfunctioning, stuck on a loop."

You nodded. "Yeah, and didn't you come here to have new experiences and love your life?"

"You know what Min Ho's Madness Party is?" Q asked which earned him a look from Kitty and you. "A new experience."

"Ugh, God. I can't believe I was about to stay in on a Friday night, pouting about a boy." she grunted. "Oh, no. I'm turning into LJ..."

"I'm out for this one. I'm not going." you announced before sipping on your coffee.

Q's eyes went wide. "What? No, both of you have to come. You're going to go out into the great big world and be a new kind of yourselves."

"A new kind of ourselves who..?" you trailed off in confusion.

"Who'll find someone to kiss?"

You exploded in laughter but Kitty seemed to be in agreement with his suggestion. "I always thought Dae would be my first kiss, and now he's the only boy in the world who can't be."

"Yeah, I know, I know. But think of all the possibilities. Seriously, use that matchmaker skill on yourself. Switch it up!" Q beamed at her.

"Okay... I could kiss somebody tonight. Yeah, I will kiss somebody tonight."

"Yes, girl." he shouted, satisfied.

"You guys have fun boy-chasing." you chuckled but Q shook his head

"Don't think you can get away from this, my friend."

You groaned. "Do I have to come?"

"Yes, please. You could help me with finding a boy." Kitty begged.

"I don't have your talent with that sort of things."

It was Q's turn to beg. "Y/N, I never see you go out much. It'll be fun. Consider it as a night out with us only."

You bit your lip in hesitation. "I guess I can stay for a bit. I might leave earlier, though."

Kitty helped you with choosing what you were going to wear. Since it was supposedly the event of the year, she insisted that you looked your very best. While she picked a tight black top with an equally tight black skirt, she spotted your red sheer top with a V neckline.

"Why is it that I have never seen you wear this?"

You took it from her. "It's something Yuri forced me to buy when we went shopping together once, nothing extravagant."

She scoffed. "Are you kidding? This will look amazing with your black skirt. Oh, and your chain necklace!"

You bickered over it until you gave up and changed. You helped her with the makeup and hair before doing yours. Satisfied with your looks, you went to the event together. The place was gigantic, a good way for Min Ho to show off his wealth as he was the one renting it.

"Do you see Q? He told me he was going to be with Florian." Kitty asked and you shook your head, clueless on where your friend was.

After assuring her that you'd be fine alone, you went separate ways to find the guys. The crowd was already dancing like there was no tomorrow, leaving you close to no space to pass through. You ended up getting out of the pack of people and opted to go look towards the bar. A wave of relief travelled your body when your eyes narrowed down to your friends as they were exchanging hugs and laughs. You wanted to join them but a voice calling you out interrupted you.

"Can I offer you something to drink? It's on me."

You stopped on your tracks as you held your breath, slowly turning around. Coming face to face with Min Ho, you smiled awkwardly as he gasped in horror.

"That's how you pick up on girls?" you let out a laugh as he cursed at himself for hitting on you.

"Ah, my eyes! It's like looking directly to the sun." Min Ho grumbled to himself.

You didn't bother staying with him as Q saw you from afar and invited you to join the lot.

"Hey, guys." you waved at them and Q could only laugh as he watched Min Ho behind you.

"You're so hot, you even got him to stare."

You brushed it off and hugged Kitty instead. However, she immediately broke away from it and pointed behind you.

"Dae is here." she said and Dae smiled at her from afar. "Nope. I am here to meet a new boy to kiss."

She stole Q's mocktail and expected for it to have alcohol in it. After discussing liquor, you picked up another drink that Q ordered for you and asked Florian to put his strong alcohol in it.

"Need to get tipsy?" Florian asked.

"Terribly."

Kitty laughed and raised her glass. "To new experiences. Let's do this."

Dae walked up to her and began to say something but the three others walked away. Clueless, you stood still and gave him a sad look.

"Good luck with that." you tapped his shoulder before catching up to the others.

You all soon went on the dance floor and started to enjoy the party fully. You bumped into someone by accident and apologized quickly. The girl squealed when she saw you.

"Y/N! I haven't seen you around much." Eunice exclaimed.

"I wasn't out much either."

"Good thing you are here. I talked about you to this boy the other day and he's so handsome. He's here, you should meet him."

You shook your hands in refusal. "Please, no."

"Come on, I'm sure you'll like him."

You stopped your protests as she pulled you out of the crowd. She walked around for a bit, looking for the man in particular, and then rushed you to him. He was sitting at the bar and exchanging with some other guy.

"Dongmin, this is Y/N."

One of the two guys excused himself and left you while the other smiled at you warmly. He was much taller than you and was definitely the type of guy who knew he was handsome. Well, like Min Ho.

"It's nice to meet you. Eunice has told me all about you."

"I'll leave you to it." the girl in question whispered before disappearing.

You were uncomfortable but at that point, you didn't care that much. Florian might have put too much liquor in your drink since you could already feel the effects. Dongmin ordered one for you and pulled out a flask out of his vest. Although it was a bad idea, you let him pour some in your glass.

"So, your parents were the heads of a restaurant company?"

"That's right."

"It must have been hard when they died. Going from a rich environment to living with the middle-class."

You almost spit out your sip. "Excuse me?"

"Well, it must be different now, no? I've heard you needed a scholarship to come here instead of being able to pay for your studies."

"I did get a scholarship, but-"

He cut you off. "I'm supposing your parents left nothing for you? Wow, that sucks."

"What? How-"

"Dongmin." someone said as they stopped behind you.

"Ah. The host of the event. How are you, Min Ho?"

"I'd be doing better if you weren't harassing my friend."

You stopped breathing for a bit. Min Ho was coming to your rescue and you couldn't be any more thankful for it. But you didn't understand why he was doing this.

"Harrassing? We were just talking."

Min Ho gave him a sour look. "About her parents, yeah? I don't think she appreciates it."

"We're good, man." Dongmin defended. "Right, Y/N?"

You simply shrugged your shoulders, earning a huff from Min Ho. "Are you feeling comfortable? Really?" he asked to be sure.

You looked back and forth between the two men and slowly shook your head. That told plenty for Min Ho to take you by the wrist and lead you away from the guy. There was a spot away from the dance floor that was quiet enough to feel more cozy. He invited you to sit and took a bottle of water from behind the bar to give it to you.

"I thought you were better than this to defend yourself."

"Thank you for your concern but I was doing just fine." you argued as you took a sip of water.

"Fine? Y/N, you were almost shaking there."

"Well, now I'm good." you shot at him. "I'll find Kitty and Q."

You left him behind and rushed back to the dancing floor. Little did you know that Min Ho followed you from a distance. Only to keep an eye on you in case you had to bump into Dongmin again.

The night went on, more drinks were consumed on your part, third-wheeling Q and Florian was a good way to summarize the whole thing. You had lost Kitty along the way as she went away after she threw a fit at Dae, evidently too drunk to be in her right mind.

The boys were making out furiously next to you and you were growing more and more disgusted. Not that you didn't root for them but they were far beyond keeping it innocent. Eventually, you left and found Eunice again in the crowd as Yuri started her set.

"I'm sorry about Dongmin. Min Ho told me what happened." she said as she gave you a hug.

She focused back on Yuri but your mind went off somewhere else. Maybe, just maybe, you liked the idea of Min Ho caring about you. After all, he hadn't been so bad in the past recent days.

"I'll be gone for a minute." you said to Eunice before starting to look for Min Ho.

You didn't know what you wanted to tell him but there was this thing between you that needed to be cleared up. With people jamming to the music, it made it hard for you to search for him properly.

As you were about to give up, you saw him from afar by recognizing his green suit that fitted him way too well for your own sake. You walked towards him but stopped when you were close enough to see what he was doing. Holding her closely by the waist, his lips were on Madison's. Your heart fell and it felt like everything around you disconnected. He pulled away from the girl and finally noticed you were standing only a few feet away from him.

"Y/N." he said and let go of Madison.

"I didn't want to interrupt." you managed to say. "I just wanted to-"

You couldn't finish your sentence. The music stopped abruptly and you saw Professor Lee with Principal Lim on the stage with stares of disapproval. Everyone began to run out of the place in a hurry which made you stumble only to crash on someone. You were lucky to find out that it was Yuri and she helped you get out with her and Dae. As soon as you stepped outside, camera flashes were blinding you. Yuri pushed you away violently and took off with Dae. You'd usually say it was a bitch move but considering the fact cameras were capturing her, she was probably only trying to protect you.

Min Ho ran to you after seeing her push you. He held your shoulders and scanned your body for any injury.

"Are you sure you are okay?" he asked again.

"Can you leave me be?" you exploded at him. "Go back to Madison or something."

#xo kitty #xo kitty fanfic #xo kitty x reader #xo kitty minho #xo kitty min ho #xo kitty minho x reader #xo kitty min ho x reader #min ho x reader #sang heon lee #sang heon lee x reader

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nina-ya · 1 year ago

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Paper Rings

Pairing: Sanji x Reader CW: None, just fluff. WC: 1.5k

A/N: Important things to note for this: Pink is the song lyrics Italics is the present. Regular text is the past. This is written with the song Paper Rings by Taylor Swift in mind.

The moon is high, like your friends were the night that we first met. Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet. Now I've read all of the books beside your bed.

It’s late at night and you are flipping through one of Sanji's cookbooks, the room dimly illuminated by the lamp beside your bed. Your thoughts wander as a cherished memory of the night that you met Sanji plays through your mind. You had been on your way home, the streets lit by the moon, when you rounded a corner and collided with a blonde man sporting curly eyebrows. He’d seemed distressed and was in a rush, but as he looked into your eyes, there was a glimmer of hope. "Oh, I'm so sorry, mademoiselle," he'd apologized profusely, his voice carrying a trace of optimism. "I would never intentionally bump into someone as beautiful as yourself." You dismiss the action, quickly accepting his apology when you noticed he had an exotic blue and white plant in his hand. "Do you live around here? Do you know what kind of plant this is?" he asked. "My dumb friends ingested these and are acting completely loopy." He sighed with frustration.

You couldn't help but chuckle. "I know that plant," you'd said, still amused. "It's a potent hallucinogen. No wonder your friends are acting all loopy."

Sanji groaned in frustration at the revelation, his shoulders slumping. However, your offer to help shorten the effects lit up his face with gratitude.

"You do?! Really?" He'd sighed in relief. "You can't imagine how relieved I am to hear that. Thank you so much. How about I take you to them now?"

Sanji extended his hand to you, a bold move that you found irresistibly charming. You accepted it, your fingers intertwining with his, as he led you to where his friends awaited.

Later that day, once you were back in your own space, you sifted through every newspaper you possessed, hoping to find even a glimpse of the enigmatic cook from the Straw Hat Pirates who had captivated you that fateful night.

With the memory lingering like a sweet dream, you close the cookbook in your hands, placing it gently on the stack of cookbooks on Sanji's bedside table. Each of those books bore colorful tags, bookmarking the pages of recipes you hoped Sanji would make for you. Feeling content, you turn off the lamp and snuggle up against him, his warmth comforting you as you drift into a peaceful sleep.

The wine is cold, Like the shoulder that I gave you in the street, Cat and mouse for a month or two or three, Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe.

From the moment you bumped into each other, there was an undeniable spark between you. You tried to brush it off at first, but you couldn't deny that each second with him was filled with tantalizing moments that left your heart racing.

You'd often meet in the most unexpected places, exchanging witty banters and sly smiles. One day you'd find a charming note served with your food, a playful message filled with riddles only you can unravel. The next he shows up next to you, handing you your favorite drink with a wink.

You often would try to one-up one another, each trying to outdo the other with clever surprises and flirty gestures. A bouquet of flowers appeared on your pillow, and you would respond with an exotic fruit that he has been dreaming of trying. The chase was thrilling, and the tension undeniable. Sometimes your conversation would turn serious, and you'd share your dreams, fear and your past. These moments of vulnerability only deepened the connection between you two. You guys would revel in your childhood memories, share your hidden desires, making every conversation feel like a meaningful step toward something greater. As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, this little game continued. You knew you were falling in love, but the excitement of the chase and the sweetness of the words left unspoken only added to the magic.

You wake up from your slumber, a smile gracing your lips at the fond memories that your mind replayed. You reach over and gently brush a piece of hair out of his face, watching his serene expression as he sleeps. Kiss me once 'cause you know I had a long night Kiss me twice 'cause it's gonna be alright three times 'cause I've waited my whole life

Your gaze shifts to his lips, eyes lingering as you note the parting of his lips, the rhythm of his breaths like a soothing melody. You smile softly as you notice the drool that had escaped his lips and settled onto the pillow below him. It’s a sight that fills you with warmth and nostalgia, prompting you to reminisce about that unforgettable first kiss you both shared.

The tension between you two had become palpable. It was a warm evening on the Sunny, and the sun was dipping over the horizon, casting a golden hue over the ship’s deck.

The night held a sense of promise, and it was clear that something was about to change between you and the cook. You found yourselves leaning against the ship’s rail, the salty breeze tugging at your hair and clothes. You had assisted Sanji in preparing a delicious dinner for the crew, sharing longing glances and laughter amongst the sizzling pans and aromatic spices that filled the air. The crew had enjoyed the fruits of your labor and began to disperse, leaving the two of you alone on the deck, the gentle lapping of the waves the only background noise. Sanji extended his hand, and you placed yours in his, fingers intertwining. There was an unspoken understanding between you two. He leaned in slowly, capturing your lips with a tenderness that surprised you both. His kiss was like a promise of all the unspoken words, a promise that was intoxicating. It was a moment of longing and patience, of waiting for something incredible.

As your lips parted, he kissed you again, a little deeper this time, as if to reassure you that the connection between you was real and profound. You felt the warmth of his affection in every touch and the depth of his feelings in the soft sigh that escaped your lips.

And just when you thought your heart might burst from the sheer intensity of the moment, he kissed you a third time. It was a kiss that declared his devotion and sealed the unspoken promise of your future together. I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings. Uh huh, that's right. Darling, you're the one I want, and I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this. Uh huh, that's right. Darling, you're the one I want.

You shift in bed, your eyes drawn to the jar of paper rings lovingly collected over the course of several months. These seemingly simple but deeply meaningful tokens held a special place in your heart, each representing cherished moments and declarations of love. With a smile, you reflect on the unique memory tied to every single one of those paper rings.

Sanji had many charming habits, one of which that he had recently developed was the practice of crafting paper rings. Every time he stumbled upon a stray piece of paper or a napkin, he couldn't resist the urge to fold it into an intricate ring and present it to you.

These paper rings weren't just a whimsical hobby; they were his way of proposing, of showing his affection without the formality of a diamond ring or a grand gesture. The first time he'd presented you with a paper ring was on a starry night while the crew was celebrating on the deck. He'd taken a napkin, expertly folding it into a ring, and slipped it onto your finger with a grin.

"Mon amour," he said, looking into your eyes, "I know it's just paper, but one day I'll replace it with a proper ring. Until then, consider this a promise."

As the days turned into weeks and then months, he couldn't resist the urge to make more paper rings. You'd find them in your pocket, on your pillow, even in your morning coffee mug. They were simple, yet they held a deeper meaning—one that you cherished. The crew members aboard the Thousand Sunny grew accustomed to the sweet tradition. They'd watch with knowing smiles as Sanji would take a piece of paper and begin his craft. He'd tease you about how you were collecting more paper rings than he had eyebrows, and you'd simply laugh, knowing that each one was a testament to his love.

You're the one I want. In paper rings, in picture frames, and all my dreams. Oh, you're the one I want.

For the time being, you treasure your assortment of paper rings, patiently waiting for the day when Sanji surprises you with a genuine ring. Unbeknownst to you, a dazzling, shimmering ring resides hidden in his suit pocket, awaiting the perfect moment to make its appearance.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece fluff #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji

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yns-world · 1 year ago

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'Till Death Do Us Part

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand x Fem!Idol!Reader part 1 and part 2 A/N: V goes by she/her pronouns. Y/S/N = Your Stage Name Bold Italics is Johnny speaking. WC: 1.5k this was requested by the lovely @diabolusdevia, i hope you enjoy :)

When V was first introduced to Johnny’s engram, she was overwhelmed with this indescribable rage; a rage so deep and sharp that she was afraid it would kill her right that second.

But like the waves of a summer storm, the pounding rage gave way to a duller, more prominent feeling in the background— a profound feeling of anguish that consumed her.

The anguish was followed with memory after memory of a woman— a woman that performed side-by-side Johnny, a woman that was curled into his side— those memories gave V the tiniest bit of hope, before those feelings were ultimately crushed by the images of the same woman crying and lashing out.

V’s eyes flicked back and forth as she processed the memories, and she felt and heard everything that Johnny was feeling in those moments. She could feel the nostalgia that Johnny experienced, she could feel the love and adoration he still felt for her even when the woman was pushing him away.

The memories of the woman faded out, and all that was left was an empty gray space of time. V expected Johnny’s last memories to be of the Arasaka bombing, but no.

Johnny’s last memory was of a bird’s eye view of that same woman, walking out of the very tower he would destroy.

In that memory, V’s heart was torn to shreds before they were spat in hate and resentment.

“Y/N L/N.” V whispered, and she immediately felt the aching of her heart.

“Y/N L/N, Y/S/N, Mother of Cyberpop, key to my heart. Architect of my death. That heartbreaker goes by many names.” Johnny reiterated, appearing next to V and lighting a cigarette.

“I think that bombing is what killed you but okay…” V thought to herself, but only earned a scoff from Johnny.

“I can see and everything that pops up in your mind, wise ass.” Despite the harsh tone, Johnny carried a longing in his own mind.

Johnny would never admit it to himself, but V was witnessing every fleeting thought that Johnny experienced every waking second, and they were all immersed in Y/N.

Where V had thoughts of survival and how to get rid of the terrorist in her head, Johnny could do nothing but replay the last few years of his life. And among those few years, all he thought about was Y/N.

It was nonstop, V couldn’t even hear her own thoughts.

“Enough!” V shouted, startling the both of them. “It’s been 40 fucking years! You still haven’t moved on?”

“It hasn’t been 40 years for me. The Arasaka bombing happened just yesterday. Just yesterday I saw her for the first time in a year.”

V rubbed her face in agony.

“Does Y/N still make music?” Johnny’s question took V by surprise, but what was even more shocking was the twinkle in his eyes at the thought of listening to Y/N’s velvet voice once again.

“Not that I know of.”

And just like that, Johnny’s hope shriveled up and was tossed to the side just like the rest of his emotions.

“How about we go find her and ask her yourself?” The words just slipped out of V’s mouth without a second thought and her heart jumped at the worst case scenario. The last thing she wanted to do was upset an already ticking terrorist.

Johnny lifted his head and looked at V with a stone-cold face and for a second, V thought he was plotting to kill her right then and there.

“Alright kid. Let’s do it.”

It didn’t take a visit to a fixer to find Y/N, a simple internet search was all that was needed to find out that she was residing at a nursing home out in the countryside by the sea.

It was a 10 hour drive to get there, but Johnny didn’t let V have a wink of sleep once they arrived.

Sleep deprived and urgently being pushed through the entrance, V walked up to the front desk.

From the outside, the residence was a beautiful building that sat by itself on acres of open land. The sea was only a few hundred feet from the building, and there were miles of beautiful grass dotted with trees. The wind carried the smell of salt and tranquility, and eased both the minds of V and Johnny.

At the front desk of the lavish lobby, V introduced herself. “Hi, I’m here to see Y/N L/N.”

The secretary’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Oh? And what is your relation?”

V’s brain started scattering around for a response before she sheepishly responded. “Uh…I’m a family friend.”

The secretary sent a suspicious look but didn’t prod further.

“Right this way.” The secretary ushered V—and Johnny—to follow her outside to the backyard.

Sitting on a bench under a tree, an elderly woman stared out at the gray sea.

“Ms. Y/N, you have a visitor.” The secretary calmly approached the woman, to which she glanced over at the visitor in question before turning her gaze back to the sea.

“She’s a quiet one, doesn’t speak much.” The secretary noted before leaving them alone.

V took a step forward, but Johnny stood back, frozen.

With a glance back at Johnny, V spoke.

“Hi, Ms. L/N. I’m V.”

Seconds passed with silence. V thought she hadn’t heard her and was about to repeat herself when a soft voice spoke out.

“V…short for Valerie?”

Under normal circumstances, V would lash out at the mention of her real name, but this time she kept her mouth shut.

“Yes, Valerie.”

A few more seconds, and then— “What a beautiful name.” The ends of Y/N’s lips curved just slightly into a hint of what could be called a smile, but was gone with the next wind.

“Uh..thanks.”

“Sit, child.”

V did as she was told, and looked back to see Johnny but he was already gone. Weird.

Neither of them spoke for the next few minutes, and V relished in that peace. There was no expectation to fill the silence. The two women stared out at the sea, lost in their own thoughts.

Except V’s thoughts were not her own, rather they were Johnny’s scatterbrained anxiety running a mile a minute.

It was clear that Johnny wasn’t coming out anytime soon, and there was no point in waiting it out. Might as well rip the band aid off now.

“This might sound crazy…but just hear me out,” V took a deep breath before continuing, “Johnny…Johnny Silverhand is technically alive…” V didn’t know whether to stop or tell her the full truth, but there was no point in omitting anything now. “His soul resides in an engram that’s in my head.” V pointed to the microchip slot behind her ear.

V wasn’t expecting an immediate response, but minutes had passed without a reaction and worry began to brew in both V and Johnny.

“This was a stupid fucking idea. Why the fuck did we come here in the first place. I doubt she even remembers me. Why would she remember me? Why would she even want to remember me? After the hell I put her through-”

Johnny’s usual cold persona was beginning to crumble and it felt worse than the shitty attitude V had to put up with.

But breaking through Johnny’s spiral was that same soft, steady voice.

“I believe you.”

V was gobsmacked and Johnny immediately materialized next to her.

“What- how-” V stammered.

“You just have a feeling about these things.” That same, small smile graced Y/N’s lips, but this time, they were accompanied with the flow of tears. “Oh, Johnny.” She whispered.

“I’m right here, baby.” Johnny was kneeling in front of Y/N holding onto her knobby, fragile hands. His own face stained with parallel trails of tears— trails of the pain he’s endured, with and without her.

“You want to tell her anything?” V thought to Johnny.

At the moment, Johnny made firm eye contact with Y/N but spoke through V’s mouth.

“I’ve never stopped loving you, my sweet little rockstar. Not once, not ever.”

V and Johnny sat on the bench, underneath the tree, closest to the sea.

Johnny’s fingers brushed over the newly-made plaque—

“Y/N L/N, Y/S/N, and key to our hearts.”

“Guess we gotta give her a drink at the Afterlife, now.” V stated with a sniffle.

“It’s the least she deserves.”

“One Y/S/N and One Johnny Silverhand, coming right up!” Claire shouted before heading back to get the ingredients.

“Pink lemonade, a dash of vodka, and a pretty green lime.” Both Claire and V recited at the same time.

“Enjoy.” Claire smiled and pushed her Y/S/N’s drink.

“To Y/S/N and Johnny, the coolest rock stars to have ever lived.” V clinked glasses with Claire and threw her head back.

a/n: i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging since it helps my account! :) DON'T BE A GHOST READER!!!! i would love to hear your thoughts and opinions, and comments are what keep writers going <3 i'm open to cyberpunk requests so feel free to send me one <3 as always, have a great day and i'll see y'all in the next one <3

#yns world #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk johnny #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #cyberpunk 2077 v #cyberpunk 2077 x reader #johnny silverhand #johnny silverhand x reader #johnny silverhand x v #cp2077 #cyberpunk 2077 johnny #cyberpunk 2077 johnny silverhand

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juniperskye · 8 months ago

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Like I Talk To Myself.

Sneak Peek: Being the new kid in school has Jason and his asshat friends saying some horrible shit to you. In attempt of being your white knight, Eddie finds out that it’s not Jason and his goons who you need to be saved from. Eddie’s POV. Indented section is a phone call (italics are Eddie and bold is Wayne)

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Hurt/Comfort

Word count: 2004

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, language, reader is clinically depressed, mentions of abusive home life, description of injuries from abuse, bad medication management, self-deprecation, suicidal thoughts, mention of self-harm, description of injuries related to self-harm. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THESE THEMES ARE TRIGGERING TO YOU!!! If I missed any, let me know!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

The new girl had been here for nearly two months now. I had tried really hard to hide how into her I was, but the guys pretty much guessed it the second they saw me checking her out. She was different than the girls here in Hawkins, she kept to herself, not pursuing the usual popular guys. Truthfully he hadn’t seen you attempt to pursue anyone in your time here.

She was in my math class and every day she would come in with her head down, hood up, and quickly find a seat in the back. She’d end up doodling most of the class, like she was right now. The bell ringing startled her, I really wanted to reach out and comfort her, she seemed like she needed it.

I exited the classroom right behind her, only to watch Andy slam right into her. Her books went flying all over the hallway and Andy started yelling at her.

“Watch where you’re going you stupid bitch.” Andy roared.

“Woah Andy, back off. You ran into her!” I had no idea why I was interjecting.

“Oooh I get it! The freak found himself a freakette.” Jason chimed in.

“No, that’s not…” I stuttered.

“I don’t give a shit. Just keep that bitch on a leash, or next time, I’ll kick your ass.” Andy barked.

I looked back to see her scrambling to grab her things and make her way out the doors that lead to the football field. Jason and his idiot friends had been treating her like this since she arrived. They had initially tried to get in her pants and when she refused they called her things like prude, virgin Mary, but then it escalated to slut and whore. And now their name of choice had been bitch.

I made quick haste of following her, something in me just needed to make sure she was okay. As I moved to trail her, my foot made contact with something. I glanced and recognized it immediately as the notebook she’s always carrying. I picked it up and a few pages fell out, leaning over to grab them, my breath escaped me. The words and images scrawled on these pages were dark.

I picked up the pace and saw that she was headed to the picnic table in the clearing. I wasn’t far behind, and I wanted to make sure I didn’t startle her, so I called after her, just as she was sitting down.

“Hey!”

“What do you want?” She snapped.

“I uh, I wanted to make sure you were okay. Plus, I wanted to give this back to you.” I explained.

“Did you go through this?” She accused.

“No, but some of the pages fell out and I did see them…you’re not gonna go through with it are you?” I asked.

“Dude, that is none of your business. It’s not like anyone would miss me anyway.”

“I would.” I mumbled.

“You don’t know me.” She said.

I moved to sit next to her on the bench, sure to leave her enough space. Being this close to her, I could see how her skin looks dull, her cheeks sunken in, her hair looked brittle. In front of me was a girl who was going through a really hard time, and I wanted to do anything in my power to lift some of her burden.

“I don’t know much about you, but I’d really like to. I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of Jason’s torture.”

“Eddie, if they think that they can make me cry more than me, they’re wrong. It’s my voice in my head telling me I’m better off dead. Not Jason’s, not Andy’s, mine.” She explained.

I was speechless, I truly couldn’t believe that she felt this horrible. I had seen this girl and the amazing things she was capable of; she had silently helped others in her time here. She would loan out a pencil if it was needed, she had given her lunch to a kid who couldn’t afford it, hell, she had pulled a kid out of the way of Andy in the hall just last week so they wouldn’t have to endure what she did today. She was such a good person and he wished she could see it.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” I asked her.

“I guess…you already know way too much about me.” She shrugged.

“In your notebook, I saw something about you hurting yourself…is that true?”

She looked down at her hands, resting in her lap. I was fully expecting her to tell me off and walk away, I had clearly pushed a boundary. But instead, she reached for her zipper, pulled it down and slid her jacket off her shoulders. She folded it neatly and placed it on the table, revealing her arms to me. A choked noise escaped my throat as my eyes roamed over the number of scars that littered her arms. There were scars that were clearly from cigarettes, other burn type scars and a bunch of neat parallel lines that varied in color. Some were white and obviously healed, some were raised scars from the depth, and some were red and recently scabbed over.

“It’s bad. I know.” She shook her head, a tear falling and landing on her jeans.

“Hey, there is no judgement. I just, I am curious to know why.” I replied.

“Why? I don’t…I’ve never been asked that before. I mean my parents treat me like shit, my dad likes to fight when he’s drunk. And my mom, she belittles me every chance she gets…she thinks depression is a joke and that I am making things up. Even after being diagnosed, she still thinks I am trying to get attention, she withholds my prescription from me sometimes.” She paused, she looked surprised at herself that she’d been able to vent freely.

“Honestly Eddie…by inflicting physical pain, I am able to shift my focus to that instead of the emotional pain. It allows me this release of all the horrible shit I am feeling after dealing with school or home.”

I looked at her, gently reached up to brush a strand of her hair back and then grabbed her hand. I locked eyes with her again, to make sure she was okay with this, and when she nodded subtly, I brought her wrist to my lips and placed a light kiss there.

“I just want the pain to end Eddie.” She sniffled.

“I know that things are really shitty right now, and I’m not going to sit here and tell you that it’ll get better, but I do know that there are steps we can take to improve it little by little and I want to help you do that if you will let me.”

*Two Months Later*

I had just gotten to school and made my way to her locker and waited, just as I had done every day for the last two months. I had promised her that I would be by her side in any way I could, and I wasn’t about to break that promise. Only, today she didn’t show. Maybe she was running late…right? I headed off to English and hoped I would see her in third period for math. When she wasn’t there, I knew I had to find her.

I left the school and drove straight to her house; I couldn’t stomach the thought of what I might find. I didn’t want to drive without knowing if she was okay, but I also couldn’t waste any more time.

I didn’t take the time to park, leaving the van diagonally in her driveway. Rushing over to the door and throwing it open.

“Hey peach, you here?” I called out, hoping she’d be sick on the couch, but when I was met with silence I made my way to the stairs, taking them two at a time. “Peach?”

I heard a quiet sob come from the bathroom and began knocking.

“Hey peach, it’s me. Can I come in?”

“No Eddie, go away, please.” She cried.

“You know I can’t do that, not until I see you’re okay.” I pleaded.

The lock to the door clicked after a moment and I quickly opened the door. The sight I was met with was one I never wish to see again. She was sat on the bathroom floor in a tank top and shorts, drops of blood were pooling on the tiles below her. Only it wasn’t of her own doing, she had a black eye, split lip and eyebrow, a sizeable cut across her cheek, and bruises littering her arms and legs.

“Peach. Who did this to you?”

“Eddie…”

“Peach. Who. Did. This.”

“My dad.” She sobbed, dropping her head into her hands.

I had to take a deep breath to calm myself. My vision was tinted in crimson, rage filling my being. I knew I needed to keep my cool though, I didn’t want to upset her anymore than she already was.

I looked at her and asked her if I could help clean up those cuts. She nodded and let me lift her to the countertop. I cleaned and bandaged her cuts and helped her to her room, I told her to lie down and went to grab her a water and some Tylenol. Once in the kitchen I grabbed the phone, dialing home.

Hey Wayne…I need a favor. My friend, That girl you call peach? yeah peach. Are you with her now? Tell her I said hi! I will Wayne. She uh, she needs a place to stay. Eds we shouldn’t get into other people’s business…plus she’d have to stay in your room…and I don’t want any funny business under my roof. No, I know. Wayne it’s bad. She can stay here. Okay, thank you.

I made my way back to her room and handed her the water and Tylenol. I didn’t know how to suggest to her that we pack all her stuff and get her out of here, but I know I needed to. She deserved to be in a home where people loved and cared about her…not stuck here in this hell her parents have created for her.

“Hey peach…”

“Eddie…”

“You go first.” I suggested.

“I um, I know it’s a big ask…but do you think maybe I could…you know what never mind.” She shook her head.

“I called Wayne when I was downstairs. I asked him if you could stay with us, and he said yes.” I explained.

“Really? Thank you Eddie!” She sniffled and pulled me into a hug.

“Let’s get you packed!”

After gathering her things, we made our way out to the van. She left a note for her parents explaining that they didn’t need to worry about her, not that they had before. And we headed back to the trailer. Wayne came outside to help bring her things in as we pulled up, when he saw her face, he glanced at me and gave me a short nod. We got her things inside, and I helped her unpack some of her stuff.

Wayne ordered us a pizza and bid us goodnight as he left for work. I let her shower first and then after we’d both showered and brushed our teeth, we got into bed. Only after she told me it was unacceptable for me to sleep on the floor.

“I gave him the finger.” She whispered.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“He was yelling at me and calling me names. I uh, I gave him the finger and told him to go to hell.” She explained.

“You did?”

“Yeah.” She chuckled “I’m not going to tolerate being called useless, stupid, or being told I am too hard to love. Not by them and not by me. Not anymore.” She turned over and smiled at me.

I couldn’t help but smile back. She was so easy to love, and I couldn’t wait to show her that.

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gamerwoo · 7 months ago

Text

hansol/mingyu: the lovers playlist

characters: mingyu x female reader

genre/warnings: idol au, friends to strangers, angst (esp on mingyu's half)

word count: 745

summary: i could be your dream girl; your whole world; if you let me; you've got me so downhearted

a/n: things in bold italics are song lyrics. also i know it was voted for the yes ending first but we know i love to draw out angst :)

previous song | back to playlist

Your room had gotten dirtier than you'd like, it and it was beginning to give you anxiety. That only meant one thing: using your day off to clean. You had put on the radio of some calming indie-sounding song that you liked, and you wanted to listen to more songs that sounded like it, and then you got to cleaning. Throwing clothes that had piled on your desk into the hamper after throwing clothes in the overfilled hamper into the wash. Trucking dishes out into the kitchen, trying to ignore the jabs from your bandmates for how messy you were -- Mars and Soey were ones to talk but you weren't going to get into that argument again over who the messiest members were.

As you were humming along with a song you hadn't heard before that had a beat you found catchy, knelt on the area rug under your bed while you sorted out trash that had been kicked beneath there, you suddenly froze with wrappers in your hand as you heard a familiar guitar strum, followed by a soft beat.

Immediately, Mingyu flashed into your thoughts. A quick slideshow of your friendship played as the lyrics kicked in, and you stared into space as memories that weren't even that long ago had unlocked.

You had said you'd stay friends when you let Mingyu down as gently as you could. You meant it at the time, too. The two of you had become inseparable during your strange friendship. And yet...

They say the heart grows fonder with every step you take; but as you move away from me; I feel my body break.

Even thought all Mingyu wanted was for you to be happy, it didn't mean the rejection didn't hurt any less. Despite that, he continued to be your friend. The two of you went out to lunch a few days after you told him you didn't feel the same, but there was an awkwardness to the atmosphere that didn't dissipate. After that, plans were getting rain checked, and texts were gradually coming later and later until the chat had been silent for so long that it was automatically deleted from your phone to create space.

Truth be told, you were doing great now. You were thriving, actually. You'd never been happier. You worked on yourself and now you were in the best headspace you'd been in, in maybe your whole life. You felt a little guilty when you first realized you hadn't heard from Mingyu in a while and hadn't realized, but you also hadn't made any move to reach out since it had been so long and you didn't want it to be awkward. After that, you didn't really give it a second thought.

But as you sat there for a moment and thought of Mingyu for the first time in a long time, you wondered if he was over you. Did he stop thinking about you like you did him and his group as a whole?

Where are you going? Where have you been today?

He didn't. He never did. Everything reminded him of you. It was small, fleeting thoughts of '_____ would like this' or 'Jun said that exactly how _____ would'. Sometimes, he would see something about you or your group -- a comeback or an ad or something of the like -- and he would sit for a minute and wonder how you were. He thought you were glowing more than you were when he last saw you. He could tell you were doing better, even if it was without him.

Will you be back tomorrow? Will you be back to me someday?

You didn't know that he would hope maybe you were the right person and it was just the wrong time. He held onto hope that maybe your groups would run into each other on a music show, or you'd be scheduled for the same variety show as him. But thus far, the stars hadn't aligned for him. Truthfully, there was a small pang of hurt in his heart when he told himself he might just be delusional, and that there would be someone else out there who was truly his soulmate.

You've got me so downhearted.

He thought time would heal him and he'd get over you. He'd find someone else by now. But instead, when he laid in bed alone at night, he was still hung up on the one who got away.

You've got me so downhearted.

── « ⋅ʚ ♫ ɞ⋅ » ───

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wooahaeruby · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 32: Epilogue

Chapter Word Count: 8,360

Anything in Bold Italics are Korean/Another language.

Master List | Prev

March 2023

[Notice] Announcement of Member’s Engagement Hello, This is Pledis Entertainment. We would like to update you on the status of relationship regarding SEVENTEEN member Woozi and his soulmate. On March 14, 2023, Woozi confirmed to the company that he and his soulmate had come forth with their engagement. The two wished to publicly announce the status as they move forward with their shared life together. We ask fans for kind consideration regarding their personal lives and privacy. At this time, nothing has been confirmed for a wedding, but if the artist and his soulmate wish to make a comment, you will be informed. SEVENTEEN will continue with their schedule regarding the comeback and promotions. We will do our best to support Woozi through this new stage in his life. Thank you.

November 2024

Life had been busy.

Comebacks, tours, injuries, and anxiety, there was no escape from the chaos that came with being the soulmate to an idol. You took every chance and moment with now confident and determined steps rather than the uneasy footing you once had.

If you looked back to the first day you had met Jihoon, you would probably laugh at yourself. Back then, life was uncertain, you had a plan for what you wanted, and you were worried of the unknown when your timer ran out. You were scared but hopeful, probably the best words you could put to it.

Now…Now life looked a little different.

“ Three days, people! Three days!” Jamie’s voice rang through the living room.

The apartment was busy – or well, Jamie was making it busy.

It was three days before the wedding and things were getting increasingly anxious. Your head had been spinning since the moment Jamie, Kazuki, and your grandparents stepped back onto South Korean soil just under a week ago.

Speaking of the apartment- You and Jihoon moved, already having outgrown the space the original two bedroom apartment provided. The more the two of you got comfortable, the more items were bought and space got eaten up.

Weeks after the October 2023 comeback and over a month before flying out for the Follow Tour in Asia, you settled into a much more spacious and newer three bedroom, two bath apartment in a more expensive part of the city. It provided you a larger shared office space with Jihoon, something you both needed since he promised to work on music at home more. The master bedroom had an ensuite with an attached walk-in closet able to house the ever expanding and ever changing wardrobes both of you had. Your favorite part of the entire house was the extensive kitchen with all new appliances where you could cook to your heart's content. The attached dining room was a perfect place to host the entirety of Seventeen at the fancy, extendable table you could lengthen into the attached living room, comfortably fitting everyone.

The third and final bedroom was the guest room. It was mainly used for any of the guys to crash on if they didn’t want to head home after a night in the Baby Universe Factory (you totally didn’t get a custom sign made to hang on the wall over his side of the room). As of the last few days, Jamie and Kazuki had commandeered it with your grandparents and Jihoon’s parents staying at the hotel where the wedding was being held.

Sitting around your living room, the…very large wedding party was working on wedding gifts.

While wedding parties aren’t usual in Korea, you and Jihoon agreed to host a Korean-American wedding, mixing each of the traditions and cultures after a lot of conversations, questions, and compromises. For you, one of the main things you wanted was Jamie and Kazuki to be a part of your wedding party. This turned into Seventeen being split between the two of you, some of them having argued whose side they wanted to be on.

Jihoon said he wanted to stay out of it, telling the twelve of them that you needed five people on your side and they could figure it out themselves. You joined him in not engaging, but it went easier than either of you expected. 97 line were happy to stand beside you, they were the closest and first most welcoming to you when you fell into the group’s lives. Joshua and Seungkwan had to play rock, paper, scissors against Chan and Joenghan, the latter two losing the spot.

A few months into planning, Jihoon’s mom had asked if it was alright for her to wear a traditional ‘mother of the groom’ hanbok in a beautiful light blue color, showing you pictures as if she needed to convince you. That led to a perfect idea, asking if she and Mimi (after asking your grandmother what she thought) if they both could wear the traditional hanboks, seeing how much it meant to Jihoon’s mom. She was ecstatic and Mimi was happy to follow whatever you wanted or needed to make it the best day of your life.

Mingyu whining had your train of thought cut off.

“ I am bad at tying bows!”

“ I literally have given you a video, a print out, and showed you!” Jamie grumbled, sitting himself on the floor beside the giant, showing him for the hundredth time.

You and Jihoon were lounging on the couch, reviewing the timeline for the wedding on his laptop when you snickered, whispering to him. “ Shouldn’t we be helping?”

Jihoon raised his eyes from the screen then shook his head. “ I feel like if we do, Jamie will yell at us.”

“He probably would.”

“The cupcakes are finished!” Mimi called from the kitchen, she absolutely loved the space as much as you did. It wasn’t long before she and Papa were carrying two full platters with the cupcakes, chocolate with cookies and cream frosting and vanilla with orange creamsicle frosting. It was like watching children light up with sweets and many of the guys were on their feet instantly. The treats were passed out before they retreated into the kitchen, knowing you’d fill them in one anything later.

“ Alright.” Once they were all settled once more, Jamie scrolled through something on his phone. “ We need to…finish the gift bags, which we are almost done with, then we have to pick up the rental suits tomorrow so everyone needs to go and make sure everything fits right.”

“ I’m out, I already picked mine up.” You gave everyone a salute, leaning back with a smirk wide on your face.

“ Yeah yeah, and Hyeji is hiding it.” Jamie stuck his tongue out at you and rolled his eyes, refocusing on his phone. “ Anyways, then the day before the wedding we go to the hotel, we’ll make sure everything is set up correctly. Rehearsal dinner and the big day after that.”

Leaning over to Jihoon once more, you snickering between the whispered words. “ Please tell me the guys aren’t going to put on a big performance for us.”

Jihoon shuttered and a small disgruntled expression spread itself on his lips. “ I have no idea, but if they do…I wouldn’t even be surprised.”

“You know, we should really expect it at this point.”

He managed to chuckle, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulled you close to his side. “ They’d throw a fit if they didn’t add something inherently ‘Seventeen’ into the mix.”

“Things will be fine~ Maybe it will be cute.”

“If one of them ends up on the floor, I’m blaming your sunny disposition.”

Shoving everyone in three vans to get to the tailor’s was a feat, it was loud for early afternoon, everyone buzzing with different levels of excitement. Jihoon was just lucky they didn’t need to be there at ass o’clock in the morning, but it was going to take a while for everything to be checked over.

Jamie and Kazuki have been on top of everything – mainly Jamie – and have been amazing with communicating with all aspects of the wedding along with Ruby. The members have been great at easing stress, having used their connections to make things smoother when they originally were looking at vendors. Seokmin got an amazing package deal for a videographer and photographer for the event and an album was going to be made professionally for the wedding. Jeonghan, Mingyu, and Jun gave amazing suggestions for caterers and Mingyu found a bakery that Ruby loved to make the cake.

This wedding was very much his own, and between working, Jihoon had placed countless hours on the living room floor with Ruby, trying to figure out what needed to be done. While it wasn’t necessary, Jihoon’s parents offered money to help pay and to both his and Ruby’s surprise, Mimi and Papa had a savings account for this reason as well. In actuality, there was very little Jihoon and Ruby needed to provide because of the money, but also due to the guys using some favors to pull strings.

To his external denial, Jihoon was nervous, he wanted everything to go smoothly. He felt more nervous now than he did when he proposed over a year ago. There were just as many hands in the pot helping, yet the anxious pit in his stomach didn’t stop bothering him. Ruby had been pestering him that things would be fine and he was worrying over nothing, which he trusted and eased the feeling but it never fully went away. Jihoon’s father said he was just nervous for the future. Seungcheol said that it wasn’t actual nervousness, but probably anxious excitement and he simply couldn’t tell the difference.

Staring at himself in the mirror, trying on his suit for the last check, it hit him.

In his eyes, it was a simple tux, however the details were the parts that he didn’t realize were going to make the whole thing real.

The simple black blazer had notched lapels with a single breast pocket over the left side of his chest and a red silk pocket square resting within it. Beneath was a plain white vest buttoned around his waist, and a matching pressed white dress shirt with a button down collar hidden behind a red tie. On the day of the wedding, a red and white rose boutonniere would be pinned to his lapel to finish off the whole look.

“ Seeing it all together is quite eye opening, isn’t it?” The tailor flattened out the back of his collar, patting both his shoulders. Jihoon could see the older man’s smile reflecting back at him in the mirror.

“ If I am to be honest with myself, it’s weird.” He gave a defeated smile, fixing the cuffs of his jacket. “ But it feels right.”

“Piece of advice?” Jihoon nodded at the man. “ My wife always says that a soulmate is someone meant for you, but a life partner is someone you wish to spend every waking moment with. If those two are the same person, everything will feel right.”

With one final check through everyone from Kazuki and Jamie, making sure every piece was accounted for, the suits were packed into one of the vans, the group once again was on the living room floor, only chatting now, lazing around with everything done in the apartment for the wedding. Boxes lined one of the walls, neatly stacked with all the important items stored for easy transport. Tomorrow afternoon, they’d check into the hotel and everything would be brought to the wedding hall and set up before the rehearsals were run through with a team from the hotel’s event coordinators.

Ruby was nowhere to be seen, neither were their grandparents. Jihoon only assumed they were out and about for the afternoon. He had sent them a text that they’d be occupying the apartment but heard nothing back.

It was an hour into the mindless talking, final detail discussing, and Jeonghan stealing the guest room for a nap that Jihoon felt the telltale spark up his spine and the warmth that radiated in his soul. The three stepped through the door with arms loaded to takeout bags, calling out they needed help, Papa and Ruby carried the most, but soon half the group was crowded and taking things with enthusiasm to eat.

“Hello to you too. ” Ruby snarked at them, smiling as they placed anything not takeout related away.

“Oh hush, sweetheart,” Mimi snickered. “You should have seen Papa’s friends when I came home with food for everyone from the diner all those years ago. Like giant barbarians.”

“They are a bunch of barbarians.” Jihoon slid into the space beside his soulmate, letting his hand gently connect with theirs, savoring the warmth the bond brought. “Heathens.”

Ruby laughed, nodding. “A bunch of heathens, but they are our heathens sadly.”

“Both of you! Sit!” Jamie called across the reception hall, eyeing you and Jihoon simply fiddling with the centerpiece vases, housing fake white, black, and red roses.

Both you and Jihoon shared a look before putting your hands up in defeat and sat down boredly. “If I knew he was going to be a wedding planner-zilla, I would have fired him day one.”

“ No you wouldn’t, because he’d start the waterworks and you’d fold faster than when Mingyu begs you to make brownies.” Jihoon sat back, arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face.

“ I do not fold when he asks me to make brownies-”

“Yes you do.” Minghao’s voice was heard passing behind you, him helping Seokmin and Jun carry a few boxes and setting them down where Jamie asked.

“ I have no allies here.” Rolling your eyes, you stood from your seat and took Jihoon’s hand. “ I want to see the setup outside.”

Wordlessly, he followed, lacing your fingers with his own, letting you lead him outside the receptional hall and across the long hallway towards the entrance to the hotel’s small, indoor greenhouse.

The greenhouse pavilion was the main reason the two of you picked the hotel. It reminded you of the day he proposed and life started to make more sense overall. It was yet another chapter you two were able to get through together and add to the many more chapters to come.

With the mid-November wedding, it was entering the more frigid temperatures and the leaves were changing outside, but life continued to bloom within the confines of the greenhouse. As you found the center of the pavilion, the cushioned metal chairs, each covered in a white fabric and a red ribbon tied around them, were already set up to seat your guests. In front of it all was a wooden arbor covered in ivy for the two of you would stand under during the ceremony. Tomorrow, vases would be placed along the aisle chairs with real, fresh bouquets of roses to match the ones inside, bringing more color to the already bright and inviting environment.

“ It’s surreal.” Jihoon finally spoke up, walking with you until both of you were standing before the arbor. He took your other hand and stood across from you, looking about the set up with wide, wonder filled eyes.

You cracked a smile, “ You’ve said that a lot the last few months, you know.”

He looked down, trying to hide the timid smile that graced his lips. “ Can’t seem to help myself.”

“Now…are you going to tell me if you wrote up your vows?”

Jihoon snorted and shook his head. “ Not a chance.”

You feigned annoyance, dramatically slumping your shoulders and leaning into his arms. “I can’t believe you’ve done this.”

He laughed, slipping his hands from yours and encircled your waist with his arms, swaying side to side. “ You’ll survive until tomorrow to know.”

The sound of hurried footsteps broke you from the embrace and the event coordinator of the hotel gave a bow, motioning towards where you came from. “ We are going to start the rehearsal and discuss the full timeline.”

While it took a good hour, the rehearsal went well. Jihoon, his parents, and all the guys practiced filing down the aisle, all smiles and whispered jokes while the coordinator spoke confidently and happily. You practiced walking down with both your grandparents at your side. There was a fake little ceremony with the woman running the whole operation so there wasn’t too much of a hassle for what to expect come tomorrow.

The short walk back into the reception hall revealed the entire set up. When you were in the event hall earlier, the overall white backdrop spanned across the far wall, workers were still finishing on the final design. Now red and black, thinner fabric criss-crossed and tied together to form a subtle but elegant design, filling the large room with a pop of color that wasn’t overwhelming. All the table settings were placed, the assigned name cards were on a table at the entrance for guests to grab as they filed inside.

Surprisingly, to Jihoon’s suggestion, there was an open bar set up on the far right with the catering tables along the same wall. There would be proper plated dinners, however hors d'oeuvres and other finger foods would be there during the cocktail hour. When dinner was done being served, the caterers would switch things out in preparation for cake and other desserts. Things would be moving quickly, you worried if it would run smoothly , but you had faith that it would.

Once the rehearsal finished, the group of you moved to the restaurant within the hotel for dinner, having secured a private dining space as the party before the party . Drinks were moving along the table quickly, laughter and conversation abundant between ordering. You didn’t plan to drink much, and everyone promised to do the same, but that didn’t stop the energy.

By the end of the night, you were thoroughly tired. For the first time in a long time, you and Jihoon parted at the elevator, going to separate hotel rooms with a parting kiss and Jamie fake gagging as he walked around you both.

“ Why are you all here?” You frowned, curled up on the couch in your hotel suite, watching one after another members of your wedding party filing into the room.

“ We got breakfast!” Seungkwan and Mingyu held up three bags while Joshua and Seokmin held the drink holders of coffee or tea. “ Plus, the hair and makeup artists are coming here for us so it’s better to be here early.”

Taking one look at the other guys showed their hands full with garment bags and other little items to keep entertained between waiting for their turn to get their styling done. The TV was turned on not long after and shuffling about the large room was making your head spin. Jamie and Kazuki were hanging garment bags in the entrance way closet, making sure the names were on displayed on them so each knew whose were which. Minghao was a quiet force, taking up space at the table with his phone and coffee.

“It’s like two hours until-” You wanted to argue but Hyeji’s voice stopped you.

“Ruby-ah~! I have it all steamed!” Hyeji pushed herself into the room around the guys, holding the white garment bag, motioning for Mingyu to help hang it on the door. “ All ready to go.”

“There are too many of you. ” You complained, huffing when Seungkwan sat beside you, his coffee in his hand and a hot tea being handed over, along with some breakfast pastries in a paper bag.

“ You’d think you’d be used to this by now.” He sassed as Joshua sat on the other side of you.

“ Honestly, Ruby-ah, you’ve spent two years with us.”

“And I’m doomed to spend the rest of my life knowing you.” With a mumbled thank you at the food and drink, you curled up and let yourself properly wake up and adjust to the disarray your room was now in.

With the constant chatter keeping you entertained, the time flew by before the room was being filled even more with people. Multiple of the group's makeup artists were insistent on helping out and the hairstylists that were brought in were already setting up two stations in the bedroom. You, thankfully, still had a few hours until you needed to prepare for the first look with just your grandparents, but everyone needed to be ready.

Luckily, the room wasn’t small, but with so many bodies moving now that the photographer joined, you felt a little suffocated. Sitting in the makeup artist's chair in front of the wide windows in the living room area, you tried to stop yourself from holding your breath and bouncing your leg.

The photographer was able to snap a few pictures but Minghao redirected them to the happy chaos that was the guys. He also asked (definitely scolded) the guys to quiet down and sit before he was placing a warm mug into your hands. Minghao whispered something about it being a tea to help you relax and the fact he took time out to make it was calming enough.

When the woman working on your makeup was done, you were a lot more calm and even able to be pulled into some photos with everyone. The guys and your friends were flitting in and out of the bathroom to change shirts and pants, leaving them half dressed in their tuxedos. Mingyu was saying something about being glad the ties were clip-on because he couldn’t handle the thought of tying bow ties.

Your hair, thankfully, took a shorter time than the makeup, styled mainly out of your face, pulled back and given a slight curled style to add body and volume. At the back of your head, a red, jeweled hair pin was placed, holding the hair back and adding the pop of color you took a while to figure out. The piece itself was actually from Jihoon’s mother, saying that she was gifted the item from her father to wear on her wedding day and hoped you’d be willing to wear it to yours. You gladly accepted it as your ‘ something borrowed’ , and you were curious of the other items since Jamie stated he had plans.

Getting dressed was a little stressful as to not mess up any of the work done. Everyone but the hairstylist was pushed out of the room to help get you ready.

You weren’t too fond of dresses and ended up picking a white suit. The bottoms were high waisted, wide legged dress pants that you needed some heels to keep it from dragging on the floor. Next was the white silk top, buttons only coming up to your mid-sternum while the rest were just open. A matching vest was slid on and finally, the piece that really had you interested when you picked it, the jacket.

It was a double breasted jacket with pockets falling on your natural waist and reaching to the floor. Three sets of buttons were front and center, but you were only told to button the middle ones by the tailor. The hairstylist was kind enough in helping you get it on and giving it a quick lint roll. She fiddled with some hair before patting you on the shoulders, helping you into your heels, and motioned towards the door.

“Are you all dressed?” You said through the door to the rest of the suite, the living room , before all sound ceased and you were giving confirmation.

You stepped out, sliding your hands into your pockets, smiling wide at each of them dressed in the simple black and white tuxedos and red bow ties. Pinned to each of their lapels were red and white roses and baby’s breath boutonniere and they all were smiling brightly at you. Each of them looked handsome, hair done and light makeup dusting their features. They stood tall, and you almost missed the shutter of the camera clicking to capture the moment.

“ Are you ready to get married?” Kazuki branched off from the group, stepping closer.

“ Before that~” Jamie slid in, hands behind his back. “ I have one thing and they have another.” He motioned to the members of Seventeen at the second part. “ Close your eyes.”

Narrowing your eyes in skepticism, you let your eyes slip closed. It took a moment before something was being placed and maneuvered on your head. You flinched, almost curling in on yourself as you heard a snicker from Jamie and a quiet laugh from the hairstylist.

“What are you doing?” You sounded unsure, maybe even annoyed because you just finished getting ready and you didn’t want whatever was being placed on your head to mess everything up.

“ Giving you a piece for your ‘something old’, hold still.”

When both sets of hands were pulled away, you felt something brush against your forehead and cheek, making you frown in confusion. Jamie gave the confirmation for you to open your eyes, only to be met with your reflection in a handheld mirror.

Now, atop your head held by a few bobby pins, was a small net birdcage veil. It barely passed the highs of your cheekbones and small crystal gems sparkled under the fluorescent lights of the room. It was fairly simple, yet something about it was so familiar, like you had seen this piece before somewhere. Taking the mirror into your hands, you gazed at yourself in silence, taking in the styling work and the final ‘piece’ added.

Then the light bulb in your head lit up and you let the breath catch in your throat.

“ This was Mimi’s veil.”

“ It is, she wanted me to give it to you before you went down for pictures.”

Mingyu was beaming when he stepped toward the two of you, his toothy, wide smile spread on his face. “ I have the ‘something new’ from all of us.”

From behind his back, Mingyu pulled a white jewelry box and handed it over, watching with bright eyes as you opened the box.

Inside was a thin, silver chain and a singular rose pendant. The stem of the flower was a small piece of silver with a ruby gemstone representing the bud of the rose. Taking it from the case, you lifted it higher to properly let your eyes run over it. You broke out in a smile but tried to hide it, your lips twisting and Mingyu only continued to brighten.

“ So you like it?” He curled his shoulders in and leaned down closer to your height.

“ I do.” You nodded, “ Thank you, all of you. It means a lot that you did this.” There was a small chorus from the guys, saying it wasn’t any issue and that they wanted to, but you only snickered, motioning the necklace to Mingyu. “ Wanna help?”

The giant hurried behind you, taking the necklace and gently securing it around your neck. You shifted the pendant into the proper place at the top of your sternum and hummed, glancing down at it before looking at everyone. “ Are we ready to head down?”

The group of you moved in formation, each member of your wedding party surrounding you to keep you hidden. Since no one was answering their phones from Jihoon’s party, Hyeji was messaged and asked to find him but you needed to get the first look done without a hitch in time. You all moved quickly, being led along by the event coordinator until you were ushered just outside.

Not far away under a small gazebo, your grandparents stood with their backs to you, standing arm in arm. One of the photographers was following behind you, while the other was seen standing before Mimi and Papa and the videographer had set up a few cameras within the gazebo to capture the moment. The guys hung back inside, giving the three of you a moment to be together before the wedding actually began.

Stepping up to them, you reached out to place both hands on one of their shoulders, smiling wide as they turned to you. Mimi, standing in a beautiful light pink hanbok, and Papa, in a plain black and white suit with a rose pinned to his lapel, matched your expression and took you in from head to toe. Mimi was first to reach out, gently cupping your cheeks, clearly trying to hold herself back from crying. Papa placed a kiss to the side of your head, wrapping you up in one of his arms.

“Look at you.” Mimi’s voice quivered, fixing the veil some by ‘fluffing’ it out to not brush against your face. She took one of your hands while Papa took the other.

“You’ve grown up so fast, kid.” Though his face was helping firm, there was a similar shake to his voice. “You look lovely.”

Unable to voice your words with the air caught in your throat, you pulled them both into a hug, taking deep breaths to try and keep your tears from falling. Both of their arms wrapped around your and you couldn’t help the small, choked sob that left you. The three of you stayed together in a hug until you pulled back, a wobbly grin spread on your lips.

“You brought your veil for me.”

Mimi laughed, fixing said veil once more. “Of course I did, I promised you I would years ago. But I have something else for you as well.”

Looking at Papa, he reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a broach you’ve never seen before in their possession. It wasn’t too large, fitting easily in the palm of your hand, the main portion of the broach was a round sapphire colored gem surrounded by tiny diamonds. You inspected it closer, raising a brow at your grandparents.

“It was my mother’s.” Mimi began, smiling down at the broach. “She gave it to me on the day of my wedding, saying she wanted to start a tradition with a ‘ something blue’ in the family. I was…supposed to give it to your mother on the day of her wedding, but since I couldn't, I am passing it to you for your wedding today.”

It left a…uncomfortable taste in your mouth for a moment but you sighed and a sad smile shifted onto your face. “Thank you, really, I’m going to hold onto this for the future.”

Mimi took the broach and helped you pin it to the inside of your jacket, letting the photographer snap a few more photos before the wedding coordinator broke the moment to inform you of the final placements starting for the ceremony.

Jihoon wasn’t nervous, he wasn’t. He swears on everything that he wasn’t.

He was standing (read: pacing) in a small separate room with his groomsmen, waiting for the guests to all be seated before all of them were to stand at the arbor in the greenhouse. The wedding wasn’t too big, definitely including Seventeen staff (mainly at Ruby’s insistence), the parents and some siblings of the rest of the Seventeen members (they were his family too!) along with friends. With Ruby’s friends being many of the staff, they didn’t mind the guests being mainly people Jihoon knew.

“ You are going to make a dent in the floor.” Seungcheol snickered, grabbing a pack of tissues and shoving them into his pocket. “ Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes.” He cracked his knuckles, huffing out a breath before he stopped and took in the amused gazes of his friends. “ I’m getting married.”

Jeonghan snorted before a laugh left him. “ Yeah, glad you finally noticed.”

“Hyung- Come on…” Jihoon deflated, trying not to run his hands through his styled hair.

“ Drink some water.” Wonwoo handed him a bottle of water and motioned for him to drink but the moment he started, Jihoon chugged half the contents. “ Not…Like that, but okay…”

He opened his mouth to speak once more but a knock at the door stopped him dead in his tracks.

“ It’s time.” Hyeji said through the door before the second event coordinator opened the door.

As the doors opened to the greenhouse, Jihoon, followed behind by all of Seventeen and Jamie and Kazuki, walked towards the archway, each taking their places on either side. Seungcheol and Soonyoung were the first ones standing behind Jihoon before the rest stood in relative age order. It wasn’t dissimilar to Ruby’s side, first were Jamie and Kazuki before the rest stood from oldest to youngest. He looked about to the guests, keeping his expression neutral while taking deep breaths. Jihoon could feel his hands sweating, which he quickly wiped off on his pants, and Seungcheol gave him a pat on the back.

Then…the music started, it was a simple tune, quite generic, but still lovely as the doors opened and his parents stepped through and down the aisle. The smile that easily spread on his face, seeing his parents walk towards him was a small sigh of relief. His mother looked beautiful in the light blue hanbok, walking arm in arm with his father dressed in a crisp black suit. When they reached the arbor, he stepped forward, taking his father’s hand for a firm handshake and giving his mother a tight hug. She whispered a few compliments before the two took their seats in the first two chairs on his side.

Once they were settled, the music changed into a familiar tone, one he had heard and played before. Ruby did say they would keep a secret of what song they’d be walking down the aisle to but hearing a full piano rendition of Heaven’s Cloud had a string tugging in his chest. When the doors to the greenhouse opened once more, Jihoon’s heart skipped a beat and his breath caught in his throat.

Standing between their grandparents, arm in arms, Ruby looked…Wow. There were thousands of words in his personal dictionary he could use but all of them didn’t seem enough to describe how they looked. It was like his brain stopped functioning and he couldn’t process words.

The notes to Heaven’s Cloud, the way his vision focused on nothing but Ruby… Jihoon truly forgot how to breathe. The shuddered breath he managed to get in was accompanied by the unexpected tears springing from his eyes and sliding down his cheeks. For a moment, Jihoon dropped his head and turned his face away from the crowd. Soon there was a tissue being placed in his hand with some force and another pat on his back. When he raised his head and met Ruby's gaze, unshed tears were welling within their eyes as well but the smile they wore never faulted.

Nearing the arbor, Jihoon quickly dabbed his eyes and cheeks, shoving the tissue in his pocket and stepped towards the three of them. Mimi gave Ruby a tight hug and a kiss to their cheek only for Papa to cup their face and kiss their temple. Papa reached out and shook Jihoon’s hand before inevitably placing Ruby’s hand gently in his.

“ Hi.” They whispered as they stood before one another, hand in hand, as the officiant stepped into place between them.

Jihoon huffed and smiled wide, shaking his head slightly. “ Hey.”

With them so close now, he was properly able to take in the entirety of them from top to bottom.

Ruby looked…Ethereal. Heavenly. Radiant.

Too many words that he didn’t know how to express but he wasn’t listening at all to the officiant speak until Ruby squeezed his hands tightly and he refocused on the moment.

“The two have decided to write their own vows.” The officiant hummed, looking between him and Ruby. “ Who would like to go first?”

“I can.” Ruby spoke up, letting his hand go and reached into their pocket, pulling a small, folded piece of paper out. They cleared their throat, straightening their shoulders. “ Jihoon, two years ago today, you held me in your arms on the floor of the Japan International Airport and told me you loved me for the first time. Today, I stand before you, our friends, and our family, just moments away from making our marriage official. For the last few weeks, I was unsure what I wanted to say in my vows. I’ve redone them a thousand times but nothing ever sounded right. For a moment, I wanted to wing it but that also didn’t seem right. Today, I wish to make promises to you, promises I wish to fulfill throughout our marriage and the life we will lead together.

Lee Jihoon, my soulmate, my love, and my forever…I promise that from this day forward, I will stand beside you, and will forever support the dreams you have. I promise that I will be your shoulder to cry on, to wipe away each tear, and the ear to listen to all your worries. I promise to always make you smile and spark joy every moment of the day. I promise to love every one of your quirks, even the horrible one of your radioactive gym bag. I promise to take care of you when you are sick, when you are scared, and most importantly, when you doubt yourself.

I love you with every piece of my heart and my soul. While fate may have brought us together, the moment you promised to fight for me on day one, I chose to be by your side for eternity. While you might say you are the lucky one, I am lucky to have a soulmate that will forever and always want what is the best for me even when I can be stubborn, bossy, and sassy. I am lucky that I have a strong, loving, and understanding person by my side that won’t judge me for stealing his clothes or eating junk food at two in the morning.

Although it is until death do us part, I know that we will never truly part because our souls are made for each other.”

Tears were streaming down their cheeks, dropping from their chin to the floor as their vows came to an end. Behind him, the unmistakable sound of Soonyoung crying and Seungcheol trying to quiet him with Jeonghan. One look over Ruby’s shoulder showed their side not much better. Jamie, Kazuki- Okay well everyone on their side had some amount of tears in their eyes, some shed while others attempted to blink them away. Jihoon didn’t realize he had started crying until he blinked and his vision was blurred and his eyes stung. Seungcheol was handing him another tissue while trying to stop crying himself but it wasn’t working.

He attempted to pull a similar piece of paper out from his pocket, shoving yet another tissue in his pocket as he attempted to collect himself and steady the shaky breathing. It took Jihoon clearing his throat twice to get a grip but his voice was somewhat broken and scratchy.

“ For a musician, finding the words to tell you that I love you was more difficult than the hundreds of songs I’ve written over the years. I tried to write my vows as I do lyrics but I messed it up more than I’d like to admit.

The day I felt the first emotions being shared between us, my eyes really opened for the first time. I wanted to make a life for myself that you, my soulmate, would be proud of. A life where I could care for you and have every single one of your needs met. I was young, ambitious, and wanted nothing more than to know who you were. In those early days I didn’t have you by my side, I grasped every emotion you sent to my soul, even the sadness that I wanted to wash away.

When I wake up, I think of you. When I go to sleep, my last thought is of you. My mind never stops turning back thoughts to you. I used to be scared of what-ifs. But every time I take your hand I'm more excited for the future than scared. I am the luckiest person alive to be standing with you today and to be facing life with you everyday.

Y/N L/N…You are the sunshine in my life and the thing that makes my world go round. As long as the sun shines in the day and the moon and stars shine at night, my love for you will never falter. From this day forward, I promise to never let the light that brightens my days go out. I promise that I will protect you and assure you that you are enough. I promise that I will try every experimental dish you make in our kitchen. I promise to be your guiding light in the darkness, a warming comfort in the cold, and a shoulder to lean on when life is too difficult to bear on your own.

You are my person, my muse, my love and my everything. Today I say, ‘I do’ but to me that means, ‘I will.’ I will take your hand and stand by your side in the good and the bad. I dedicate myself to your happiness, success, and smile.”

Each word, while broken, managed to come out just as he wrote, but Jihoon was lucky he managed to memorize everything because he couldn’t see through the haze of tears that clouded his vision.

Something touched his cheek and when he could blink away the tears, Ruby was laughing quietly, trying to dry his face. He held back a whine in the back of his throat but he tried to shake off the fit of crying quickly because he couldn’t stand up here sobbing while the rest of the wedding was trying to go on.

The officiant, chuckled under his breath and let the two of them collect themselves before he continued on to the ring exchange, both Seungcheol and Jamie handing the ring boxes over. He turned to Jihoon first, waiting for him to take their hand before he was asked to repeat after him.

Jihoon let out a calming breath, listening to the officiant before repeating the words. “With this ring I, Lee Jihoon, take you, Y/N L/N, to be no other than yourself. Loving what I know of you, and trusting what I do not yet know, I will respect your integrity and have faith in your abiding love for me, through all our years, and in all that life may bring us.”

He slid the set of stacked rings on their finger, watching the ruby and diamonds glimmer under the natural lights.

For their turn, they took the simple black titanium ring and held his hand, waiting to repeat just as he did. “With this ring I, Y/N L/N, take you, Lee Jihoon, to be no other than yourself. Loving what I know of you, and trusting what I do not yet know, I will respect your integrity and have faith in your abiding love for me, through all our years, and in all that life may bring us.”

The officiant hummed once more as Jihoon took both of Ruby’s hands into his own, smiling warmly to one another.

“ Lee Jihoon, do you take Y/N L/N to live together in matrimony, to love them, comfort them, honor and keep them, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”

He couldn’t help the airy laugh that bubbled from his chest and he nodded, “ I do.”

“Y/N L/N, do you take Lee Jihoon to live together in matrimony, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”

Ruby’s hands tightened around his, nodding their head. “ I do.”

“ By the authority vested in me, I pronounce you married under South Korean law.” Stepping back from, the officiant continued, shuffling off to the side more. “ You may now kiss.”

Without any hesitation, both Jihoon and Ruby leaned into one another, kissing before their friends and family. The kiss sent warmth that shot through the bond, the metaphorical fireworks exploding behind his eyes, and the butterflies that soared about his stomach that were almost overwhelming. He nearly blocked the cheering out, basking in the feeling until Ruby broke away, face flushed but the bond overflowed with adoration.

Hand in hand, they walked back down the aisle, all bliss and tranquility shared from the guests between cheers and applause.

It was getting to the end of the reception, things had been wild, especially with the open bar and some of your friends not knowing their limits (read: Soonyoung). The reception started out great, not that the ending so far wasn’t, but the energy was amazing and it held the entire time.

Once you and Jihoon got yourself collected, had some time to sit together, and come down from the emotional high, the makeup artist was kind enough to come back and clear any smudges or streaky foundation. The photographer came back to get pictures of just the two of you, then your grandparents and his parents were invited back and also got pictures. There was no unnecessary begging from the to come in, getting many pictures you’d have to sort through at some point once all the editing was finished.

The first dance you shared as a married couple was to a classical song both of you enjoyed, only wanting to simple dance, get a few spins in, and stay relatively close in each other’s arms without being disturbed.

Though you did manage to somehow shed more tears as you danced with Papa, you and Jihoon kept it together the rest of the night. Jihoon and his mother shared a mother-son dance that was heartwarming to watch from the head table.

Dinner had flown by and the real party started instantly. The drinks were acquired, laughter was shared, and both you and Jihoon floated around the reception hall to greet people and converse. It was probably the most social either of you had been in a while but it wasn’t too draining.

To be fair, it wasn’t long until the two of you found yourselves floating back to one another, walking hand in hand about the room. Jamie and Kazuki managed to separate you with 97 line to dance, leaving Jihoon because it was a ‘ Ruby wedding party only ’ dance. That made you roll your eyes but you danced, cackling at the foolishness your friends brought to the floor.

When you went to sit down and take a breath, Jihoon slid into his seat beside you, reaching to take your hand. He raised your hand to his lips, placing a kiss to each of knuckles silently, feeling the serene buzz coming from his side of the bond. If it wasn’t so loud, you could zone out and let yourself be wrapped up in the moment, closing your eyes and leaning into him. He had placed his arm over the back of your chair, letting you rest your head against his shoulder while he rested his head against yours.

Seventeen did manage to be unmistakable themselves, they had gathered together with mics in hand. Seungcheol started on a spiel, congratulating you on the union. He went on to say that he was proud of the man Jihoon continued to grow into as his friend, his brother, and how he was proud to call you another member of his family. He raised a glass and many others around the room did as well, giving a cheer before music started to play, the familiar tune of Smile Flower filling the room.

You managed to laugh, but hugged your husband around his waist, listening to the group sing, two of the other vocal unit members taking over for Jihoon’s parts. They looked as happy as you felt, the twelve of them being some of your biggest supporters throughout the hard times. They had been nothing but helpful when either of you needed it and you would be grateful for forever day moving forward.

Before your grand exit for the night, you managed to get a hold of a microphone, catching everyone’s attention.

You gazed at Jihoon lovingly, a lopsided smile spreading on your features. “ I knew the life we were going to share wasn’t easy, but I wouldn’t change a single moment. We’ve argued, we’ve cried, we’ve laughed, and we’ve loved together. Today, we start a new chapter, turning another page in the book I want to write with him as we get out of bed every morning and crawl into bed every night. ”

Grabbing your glass of campaign, you raised it high, running your eyes about the room. “I want to thank everyone here for coming today to celebrate with Jihoon and I. Everyone here has been our strongest supporters and I don’t believe I could wish for better people. We are so fortunate to have such wonderful people in our lives, and we look forward to creating many more happy memories together.”

The room filled with the sound of glasses clinking together and congratulations. Once more, you settled your gaze on Jihoon, sitting there, staring at you with love and admiration.

“ To you, Jihoon. Today has been a dream come true for me, and I couldn't be happier to be standing here as a newlywed. Thank you for being my everything. I love you more than words can express, and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you. Here's to a lifetime of love, adventure, and the memories we will create.”

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt #seventeen jihoon #woozi x reader #svt woozi #soulmate au #seventeen soulmate au #seventeen fic #svt x reader

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