#i get so much euphoria out of it especially since i’m writing in the body of a man so the gender euphoria on top of it

[therealricksanchezpleasestandup]

i hope season 8 has rick hooking up with more otherworldly entities it’s really euphoric for me

[loomiseater]

First time

Warnings: smut ofc!, virginity loss, unprotected sex, p in v, and oral female receiving.

Billy Loomis x fem reader

A/N: this took a while because I was trying to decide how I wanted to write this, sorry!

Criticism is appreciated! I would love to know how I can improve on my writing.

Masterlist

Request page

Written: April 24th, 2024-April 28th, 2024

Published: April 29th, 2024

Wc:1233

Summary: Billy takes your virginity.

This request was from my fav @dollettecoquette !! 💗. 

You and Billy were in a heated make out session on your bed. Billy gripped your hips as you grinded into his lap. “You’re so pretty, you know that?” He stated as he pulled away from the kiss. 

“Are you saying that so you can get in my pants, Loomis?” You ask playfully. He looked nervous from your words so you decided to lighten the mood. “If so its working” you finished as he smiled a little. 

Just as Billy was about to bring you into another kiss, there was a knock on your bedroom door. You hurriedly got off his lap and he went to go sit on the chair at your desk. You both acted like everything was normal as your mother walked in. 

“Your father and I are going out to dinner with friends” she explained while looking down at her phone. “Your father left money on the counter for dinner, we should be back around 10:00” Your mother stated as she walked back out the door without even saying bye nor looking at you and Billy.

“No parents, this must be my lucky night” Billy said as he picked you up and laid you on the bed. Your giggles filled the room as placed kisses on your chest and neck. 

He pulled away from your neck as his dark chocolate eyes locked with yours. “I want you” he said. You knew what he was referring to but your heart started racing. Before you could think, the words spilt out of your mouth. “I’m ready.”

That was all he needed to hear before he took your shirt off along with his own. “Been waiting for this moment since we first met” he says while making love bites all on your exposed chest. 

He swiftly unhooked your bra and took your right breast in his hand and started sucking. Soft moans fell from your mouth due to the pleasure. You’ve never felt this type of pleasure before but it was defiantly something you could get used to. He soon moved from your breasts to in between your legs.

He pulled down your shorts along with your panties. Your core was aching even more, especially now with his breath coating your inner thighs. “You have such a pretty pussy” he said as he placed a kiss to your legs. Your hips jerked at not only his words but the kiss he gave you.

“Billy-please” you begged at he let out a dark chuckle. “Patience baby” he responded as he placed kisses on your inner thighs instead of where you really needed him. Your body was on fire, in this moment all you wanted was his mouth on you.

As if he heard your thoughts, you felt his tongue lick a stripe up your core. Your breath hitched at this feeling and it didn’t go unnoticed by him. He soon dived in and started eating you out like you were his last meal. “Billy-fuck!” You moaned as your hand gripped the back of his head. 

He was eating you out like mad man, shaking his head side to side, and slurping up your juices. You could feel the flat of his tongue on your folds. He raised his head to look at you for a split second, leaning back down and placing your legs on his shoulders. 

“Billy, it’s too much!” You whined but he didn’t care. “Taste so good” he said carelessly. It was like he was drunk from off the taste of your pussy. Billy started thrusting his tongue in and out of you and that was your last straw. You came all over his face and he enjoyed every last bit of it. 

You’ve never had an orgasm before, you’ve never fingered yourself, and never used any toys. You wanted to experience this pleasure during your first time and now you finally did. A sense of euphoria brushed over you and your brain was now foggy. 

“You did so good for me, princess” he stated before placing a kiss on your stomach. His face was glistening in your juices and he didn’t even seem to care. He hovered over your body for a second, then brining you in for a kiss. You now see why he enjoyed tasting you so much, you could taste yourself all in his mouth as you moaned into the kiss. 

His dick twitched a little at the moan you let out and you soon started to palm him through his jeans. As you two were still in this intense make out session, he began to unbuckle his jeans and slide out of them. He was already shirtless but you couldn’t help to admire his abs again after you two broke away from the fiery kiss to catch some air.

He pulled himself out from his boxers and you couldn’t help but to wonder how he was gonna fit inside of you. He was long, thick, and veiny. 

You finally announced your thoughts to Billy. 

“Babe?” You start off as he hummed, raising an eyebrow at you. “How’s that supposed to fit in me?” You question as he chuckled. “We’ll make it fit” he stated before giving you a kiss. You look down to see him teasing your folds with his tip before pushing slowly into you. 

There was a stretch and almost a burning sensation that you felt. You wanted to scream at the pain but you didn’t wanna be a bitch. “I know it hurts a bit baby but I gotta pull back out and keep thrusting” he said softly as you nodded your head. 

Billy pulled back out and thrusted himself back into you. The burning sensation was gone but you still felt the thrust, eyes rolling back from the pleasure he was giving you. “So fucking tight” he said lowly to himself. He was trapped in between in your legs, his grunts filled the room. 

He sucked in some air as he looked down at the mess you were making on his dick, it was art to him. “Feels so good” You choked out. “I know baby, I know” he responded. 

When he thought you were stretched out enough, he raised one of your legs on his shoulders and kept the other one down. Tears filled your eyes when he started thrusting even faster. Your nails soon dug into his back as he grunted from the sting.

“I love you so much, baby” He said as he looked into your eyes. “I love you too” you say breathless at his strokes. It’s like you could feel every vein of his dick inside of you. “Best pussy I’ve ever had” he said in your ear and thats when you lost it. Yours legs shook as you came on his dick.

He grunted from you clenching on him. He still fucked you through your orgasm as he felt hisself getting close. He pulled out and came on your stomach letting out a moan. 

“You did so good, princess” he said before placing a kiss on your forehead. You were still breathless at the activity you just finished. You then got up to pee and came back to your bed to see Billy laying his head on his arms.

“Can I sleep inside you tonight?” He asked as he grabbed your body softly. “What?” You asked as you then let out a giggle from his question.

[someoneintheshadow456]

I said before, now that Cait Corrain’s true self has come out, I can finally elaborate on what happened with her. To put a long story short, I was one of her very first victims - long before she became an original fiction author and back when she was known as Enterprisingly on AO3 - the author of Play to Win.

I know that #reviewbombgate was back in December, but at the time, I did not know about it because I’m not involved in BookTok. However, I WAS involved with the Reylo fandom, albeit indirectly.

The final chapters of Play to Win went on a tangent that seemed bizarre to me at the time. In fact, it seemed so strange that I brushed it off almost completely. It was only when I found Play to Win’s Wayback Machine page after recalling memories of the Reylo fandom last year when I read the chapter properly (instead of skipping ahead to get to the Reylo scenes). And a proper reading made me realize what was so unnerving about it:

Anyone who has engaged with my blog (especially from 2015-2019, when I used to post a lot more content about my personal life) can see the strangely... specific way this character was described. In order to go into this level of depth, one has to have been following me intently and keeping tabs of all the personal things I posted.

And then, she goes from eerily specific descriptions, to straight up maliciously lying about me:

Keep in mind, this screed takes up an ENTIRE chapter in itself. Said character, Ejya Fjord, is a background NPC who is mentioned a total of 121 times in a 161,000 word story. In fact, her name is mentioned so little that you could be forgiven for not remembering her at all:

You'd think, if someone would do something like this, I had to have done something terrible to her, or even just gave her a negative review. But I never did.

As you can see here, I have only engaged positively with her. Since Play to Win was also taken down and you can’t see old comments on Wayback Machine. Unfortunately after this, I can only give my word without receipts.

Play to Win was published first in 2018. I reviewed her story in March of 2018, possibly even earlier. In my review, I praised the writing, worldbuilding, and dialogues, but gave a small constructive criticism in that the politics could be better integrated into the story without feeling disjointed.

In the very early chapters, Ejya was clearly intended to be 100% Swedish - as one can tell from the name. However, at some point in the later half of the story, she retroactively became mixed race and a rival for Ben's affections, while Ben seems to be having none of it. It's clear these choices were made to portray me as some kind of horny fangirl for Kylo Ren who will stomp on other girls for his sake:

When I read the last chapter first, I was horrified. But now I'm just... bemused that someone would ever see me as some kind of calculating vixen who dresses like a Euphoria high school student and only likes masculine hobbies to pick up dudes. When in reality it took me until 2020 to be able to type the word "sex" without having heart attack and have never so much as posted a selfie on here.

It's also funny that Ejya is petite and flat chested while my actual body type is the exact opposite... which she would know since she stalked my blog so thoroughly. Almost as though she's implying something about her own insecurities...

Initially, I was under the impression that Corrain targeted me because of my association with @ainomica - due to her ruffling the Reylo fandom’s feathers (and ending up on Corrain’s hit list) over her opinions on John Boyega. However, that controversy happened in 2020. When Corrain wrote this libel about me, @ainomica wasn’t even on her radar, not to mention it was a year before we had ever even met. This libel was done to target me, and me exclusively.

In essence - Corrain weaved libel about me into her story because my existence pissed her off. We know now that Corrain had a penchant for targeting sapphic authors and WOC almost exclusively. So it's safe to say she was just being a typical white saviour liberal who shows what she actually thinks of minorities when they don't toe the line.

While this does make her less unhinged in my eyes than using me to target someone else, it still means that Corrain was, and always has been capable of aggression towards anyone she’s remotely offended by. Especially if said person happens to be a minority of some kind.

[poodle-anon]

☔️ for the ask? I love hearing about concepts! Especially the ones that’ll never hit the paper.

-miniscrew

OH BOY this took a minute to think on but I think I got one @miniscrew-anon

For the life of me I can’t figure out how to write it, but I really really want to explore Wild’s relationship with his dysphoria/lack thereof. I’ve genuinely tried putting it to paper more than once, but each time I can’t seem to get the vibe quite down in a way that resonates with what I enjoy about it in my head

Under a read more because it’s long, and has to do with HRT, gender dysphoria, panic attacks, discussion of needles, and trans!Wild having an overall Bad Time for a day within a 99.99% positive experience being trans otherwise. 

As a disclaimer upfront, I am transmasculine nonbinary myself, and feel that I have a right to depict explorations of that experience in combination with binary ftm experiences. Also, this is NOT a story about detransitioning or “forced feminization,” do NOT get it fucking twisted or I will hunt you down. I will find you. This is about euphoria and dysphoria and happiness with one's body but clothing/presentation causing issues.

So for background, in my headcanons, I’m pretty convinced that Wild normally doesn’t experience dysphoria at all - something that very much separates him from Champion, whom is a very binary trans man. Wild woke up in a very masculine post-transition non-op body, Champion had been very satisfied with himself and his transition, having begun it as a teen with access to puberty blockers prior to hrt, so he never went through estrogen puberty. Wild is at first pretty bad at keeping track of and administering his hrt shots, something that Champion was very strict about and pretty much never failed to keep up with. At first, the other guard boys had to help him with them when he did remember because the anticipation of a shot is TERRIBLE for wanting to get it done when you have adhd and it’s something you don’t really think matters in your own personal upkeep. Eventually, Wild just kinda gives up on it with a happy shrug and carries on his merry way in his very androgynous body, transness usually being a fun afterthought for him. Even when he starts retaining fat differently, and growing breast tissue through lazy estrogen puberty, he’s having fun with this new experience! Heck yeah more gender fuckery, he’s having a great time being a man while doing it. Nobody in his life invalidates his gender over it. Period.

However.

There is an idea that I must credit to Stormy for sparking but has been making me lose my mind (/pos) over ever since, wherein at some point Wild goes to the mall with one of the other boys (possibly Hyrule, possibly Wars and Sky, never been able to figure that one out) to shop for higher end lingerie. (I see this fic as separate from and kinda irrelevant to the second puberty concept, so disregard that point for now and play with me in this space.) And he picks out some really cute finds! He's very happy with some lacy little numbers that he knows will go well with his eyes or whatever, but you know how they make lingerie that comes in pairs with bras that are equally as cute? Well, he goes to try one on, and standing there in the changing room, looking in the mirror, the world kinda stops.

There’s this overwhelming sense of badwrongbad while looking at himself in a bra. He doesn’t recognize the person in the mirror, he doesn’t like that person, and has no real way of articulating it to himself why.

Now, bear in mind, Wild very technically is a dissociative fugue state initially brought on by a severe concussion, which is a WHOLE OTHER can of worms I hope to explore one day. As thorough of a personality change there is though, he’s not as stable of an existence as I think he presents

So something about how he feels about seeing this sets off a dissociative panic attack that is probably the closest thing that he’s ever come to Champion surfacing into active memory, bearing some resemblance to the one in The Brave that was set off by Time playing the ocarina.

But is the bra too small? The wrong material? Who knows. Doesn’t matter. He’s suffocating. His skin itches like hell. He needs this thing off now.

Once he exits, the guys he’s with immediately notice a shift. He’s uncharacteristically serious for a beat or two, maybe even recognizable if he’s with the guard boys, but if he’s not nonverbally putting stuff on the reject rack, Wild laughs it off as nothing being wrong. Either Wild or someone else points out they can go get a smoothie after Wild decides he’s not buying any clothes, and his day gets a little better. The temperature of it maybe makes his nipples a little hard and Wild doesn’t know why he’s so aware and uncomfortable with that right now, but the others might also notice that he’s still periodically itching where the band and straps were until they get home.

By the time they leave the mall, he’s more or less fine and all of the Overwhelming Dread has passed. That night though, he puts a blanket over the mirror in his room. And when he curls up in bed, there’s this shuddering sigh that leaves him. That kind where you're just on the edge of crying but don't.

Anyway thanks for coming to my TED talk :) 

[meanwhileinstasiville]

So I had symptoms of heart failure, a couple of years ago, according my end-stage, COPD burdened mother.

My heart had been broken a measly eleven years at that time, coming up on fourteen at the time of this writing. She was, of course, heavily medicated at the time, and trying to find the *exact* combination of gum flavor, breath mint, and a source of block ice, that reprised the “euphoria” she had felt back in the 1980s. When she was being slipped cocaine to “perk her up” via her uncovered soda glasses. She didn’t pay it much mind because nobody ever cared how I felt or what I thought. Living in the “no true scotsman” fallacy as it were. 

Same as he had been slipping my mom cocaine, my dad had suggested a way to go about “blowing off steam” if it happened to suit me. You can kill things that people eat, but only with tags, and only in season. You can kill things that nobody seems to even notice are there; like starlings. What’s a few hundred from thousands here or there? Some people shoot rats at the dump; everyone knows they’re around, some people know there are ten for every one you can see (shoot?), and people see them as often as ever with or without using the place as a shooting range. Same with ground squirrels; people notice squirrels *sometimes* but they certainly don’t count them. Especially not the holes in the ground where they live and breed. 

(My dad was a funny guy, an Axis-II all the way as the modern DSM would call it, and a serial killer type, which I have mentioned before)

Some people don’t ask questions about these things. As this is my multi-generational hometown, I’m prone to taking the sort of long walks that follow all the important grids. The roads new and old, the water grid, the sewer system, city electrical, etc. 

I’ve been followed the length of streets by cars and trucks driving the wrong way in the next town over in previous years, because a drug kingpin happens to call that place home. Cartel presence has to subsume generic street thuggery because it has to be “worthy” we’ll say of one of the wealthier families in the state (and possibly the most powerful these days).

Walking that much, you start to notice where the cars you pass “live”. Who owns a red honda, or a blue ford, or drives any number of service vehicles. So when you meet them in “out of the way” places, as maybe parked in front of a sex shop, you can say with certainty that something is up.

When they’re bilking money out of the IRS writing off the mileage. Services like the Fed Ex industry of said company, UPS, DHL, and even the postal service itself. They didn’t “skip” a mailbox, they’re rerunning a serviced street; each truck has a designation in the form of a number. Cars have license plates. The corporate “double irish” we’re not, among the majority of Oregonians, but *we are* the wild west. Mileage is a write-off. For service vehicles themselves a write-off. All it takes is an LLC. You start to notice, as I said, when vehicles aren’t where they’re supposed to be.

No less than five different vehicles parked outside a cottage-size house that can’t be more than 700sq feet. In total. Sometimes you notice these things. 

You notice that Toyota Land Cruiser FJs, are as often parked on private drives (or tucked away in garages) as they are “khaki” colored. You notice “who had one first” and when that became the template for people like that person. We didn’t have a deluge of honda fit’s driving around until women in the sex trade decided that they were “sporty”. Silver is a “big thing” because Oregon is the “Other Florida” being the marijuana capital of the world to match the cocaine godmother’s Florida. Second place is about as good as anyone gets because people had long paid off their houses with crops protected by tripwires and machineguns. 

(Oregon hasn’t had timber dollars since the 1970s)

They have their weapons, they have their “Alive” style neighborhoods of fire forged friendships from the drug trade. Some of them with more combat training that the average opportunistic weekend drug dealer, form up into “units” of BMXers; body armor and all. Same as a world war gave way to biker gang “patrols”. 

As I said, you notice these things. Cost of fuel *alone* (how much was it for months where *YOU* live?) add up to the down payment on a house, month to month. For all those “out of the way” sorties on write-off mileage. And I’m guessing the IRS just of goes with it, because you’re driving your HVAC truck to the same house (remember writing off the mileage? On the daily?) or thereabouts, several times in the same tax period, and obviously it’s work-related for a job that you know how to do. And have the tools for.

Anyway, a sort of long story short, there’s a giant automotive wholesaler based here, that only cares that payments are made, not by what means. They don’t even bother to look, because that would be bad business practice to snoop where they’d be making a sale. Green industry, you might call it, where money grew on trees called cannabis, that shored up the whole ailing state. And so it went up until the 00s. 

America asks how Donald Trump is even a billionaire when they have the receipts. Ask again how Oregon afforded the dotcom boom. Where your car came from, and your house, and your daily drive through the coffee kiosks so numerous that they come in two or three different brands. You start to notice these things.

A contender for “most coveted grocery store” in town, build a giant staircase to an upstairs office that they didn’t really need. At great expense and questionable permit legality, perfectly connoting Schindler’s factory office (you know, where they were taking pot shots at the workers out the windows?). And yeah, the “owner”, is blond haired and with blue eyes. Some quotes because it’s really the owner’s husband; what remains of a once powerful mob family from Arizona who created a sort of precursor to Walmart in the southwest. You know, to give back. That was a long time ago.

As I said, blond and blue eyed. And *only after* a norwegian began working there and struck up a sort of relationship with the manager’s son. Spending didn’t stop there. Seeing a need for a separate building, and after building the first wasn’t really a “true office”, they bought (paying WAY TOO MUCH, and out the nose) a former maxillofacial surgeon’s office. Sort of “fly by night” contractors (if you could even call them that) worked way over budget on time and billable hours. Some millions went into the thing when all was said and done. Somehow based on the name of the surgeon, and also because a “real German” had made the suggestion (if you know what I mean), and NOT the owner’s longtime friend who was managing the place through the 1980s. Something about Germans and purse strings loosened for the “right kind of people”. 

They say “if you marry for money, expect to work for it” and I think that’s true, even of an ailing mob family from the turn of the last century.

There’s a lead up, to go with the sort of “nazism in the room” from a couple decades ago. First it was the courtesy clerk with a religious Puerto Rican name, who role modelled how to “get into shape” for that crew. Then there was Cristian, whose whole family had relocated from Silicon Valley, separated from a Hewlett-Packard-in-the-family pedigree. To role model the “fruits” of a religious system from a place the crew of that business would never go (did I mention the most powerful family around is *also* blond and blue eyed?). He was quickly given keys to “Schindler’s” office, on a name basis alone. 

Repeat after me, there’s no such thing as intrinsic morality.

A blond haired and blue eyed bad suggestion is not better than an infinite amount of good ones from other people. To the tune of some very questionable business practices that existed more or less *beyond scrutiny*. These are millions of dollars in decisions over many years. After the owner’s husband had a norwegian to talk to.

We have even had, in the decade passing, a sort of firestorm with a mind to burn minority dwellings and businesses, seeming to read the tax lot system as it went, to the exclusion of white interests. (And I’m descended from one of the former controlling interests of the state, and also the seat of the “important” kkk meetings of hate’s distant past). Seems a little fishy to me. Somehow burning away from the “white” town, and through where literally all of the minority population of the region, was concentrated. Almost but not quite through the “darker” part of the larger city more distant this one. Epilogue being, as it so happened, that many couldn’t rebuilt because housing regulations regarding abutments (roads, water ways, city-right-of-way) turned out to be *retroactive*. The family home can’t be rebuilt where it was because of regulations written after it. We don’t mince words with this shit out here in the wild west. 

And these assertions are in records that stand to historical fact. I don’t mean to be journaling in the public square, but all of this needs to be said. As to the business story, you have to ask since it also had a terrible problem with nepotism, “which is worse, remnant bund-nazi thinking, or the aforementioned nepotism that gave way to a “blond” hiring period?”. 

Not an easy question. Turns out that (and look at Trump-Drumpf by Heinz) a nazi pedigree might have become a key that opens every door once again, but here in America and now. (And I thought my own family’s not so savory history was the worst of it, not an easy thing to do because *the other side* of my family was a large part of what sacked the Roman Empire).

Edit: A personal family curiosity, is that we’re (the non-kkk side) always the worst people we know, and able to cite laundry lists of examples, and somehow after centuries upon centuries of horrible things, we somehow meet people worse than we are. On a one on one basis. 

[littleoddwriter]

You write for ofmd?😳😳😳 hot person behavior.

I‘m in dire need of a Blackbeard x ftm!reader smut fanfic or I’ll die. I don’t even have a plot I’m so sorry. Maybe the reader is part of Blackbeard‘s crew and tries to lay low because of his situation.

Blackbeard seems to have grown infatuated with him and calls him to his private room (study?? Office??) one day to discuss something.

Ed basically acts all "weird", openly flirts with the reader and gets super touchy. Reader actually did fantasize about Ed before but can’t believe this is actually happening and just blurts out he’s trans. He says he understands if that disgusts Ed and he wants him gone off the ship or something but Ed is just like; "I don’t care?? I‘m literally obsessed with you wtf"

And then they go at it all night (obviously) :3

Want | Edward Teach/Blackbeard x Trans!Male!Reader | N/SFW (18+)

Hello there! Ok, I'm loving this and I sure hope you like what I've done with your request, thank you so much for it! :')

summary; See above. Minors DNI.

notes; Trans!Male!Reader; Gender Dysphoria and Light Euphoria; Oral Sex (Blowjob); Fingering; Penetrative Sex; Unsafe Sex; Kissing; Cuddling; Fluff and Smut.

Ever since you’ve made it onto Blackbeard’s ship and into his crew, you’ve been trying so hard to not let any of them know that you weren’t a ‘real’ man. Especially not Edward himself. If he knew, he was surely going to be disgusted and throw you overboard. And you didn’t exactly fancy dying at his hands (or at all), nor did you want to have to deal with his rejection. Because you really liked Ed. 

He was rough around the edges and a menace, but he had a heart. Besides that he was also gorgeous and the leather clothing had your mind reeling. You fantasized about him quite a bit. You knew he was into men. He didn’t make that a secret. The entire crew knew. Some of them have even slept with him. You wished you were one of those lucky few.

So, when he started paying more attention to you - seemingly to you, at least - you wondered if maybe he was simply trying to find out if he was right about you having been born with a female body. Your wishful thinking was trying to convince you that he liked you, too, though. But why would he? You were usually quite in the background. Other crew members often even forgot your name, or at least pretended that they did. Why would he ask you questions and spend time with you and look you over so closely if not for the sole reason of exposing you soon, then?

One night, though, Edward ordered you into his room. You were terrified. Had he finally found out?

You sat next to him on the little sofa he had in his room, which surprised you, considering it put you on an equal level and physically close with him. 

“I just wanted to say that I think you’re doing a great job, mate,” Ed told you kindly, putting a friendly hand on your shoulder. His touch lingered, drawing out, until you realised that he wasn’t taking his hand away at all. “You haven’t been here for long, but you’ve certainly proven to be worthy to stay on my ship.”

Swallowing thickly, you turned to get a better look at him. His eyes shone and he was smiling at you.

“Uh, thank you, Captain,” you said softly, completely dumbfounded. Why was he being so nice to you?

His hand slowly travelled down your arm and onto your thigh, near your crotch. Oh. Was he… flirting with you?

“Call me Ed,” he stated before continuing, “I was actually calling you in here because I thought we could up your position, eh? I think you deserve it. You’re doing better than some of the other crew members. But don’t tell’em that, okay, mate?”

“I won’t tell a soul, Ed, sir,” you nodded for emphasis, “And, uh, thank you. Really. But what kind of position did you have in mind for me?”

“Hm, not sure yet. Maybe you’ll be my third, eh? ‘Cause I can’t remove Izzy from being my second, but I’d like to keep you close, make you my third.” Ed’s hand rubbed your thigh, shortly touching you very close to your crotch and making you jump slightly. “What do ya say?”

Stunned, you looked at him for a long moment. Was he fucking with you? No. He was completely serious by the looks of it. 

“I’d love that, Captain, uh, Ed!” you exclaimed with a grin on your face. You couldn’t believe it!

Ed smiled and nodded in approval. Then, he leaned in, seemingly to kiss you. 

That was when you realised that there was one issue with his advances, no matter how much you liked them and how aroused you were getting because of his hand on your thigh.

“I’m not fully a man!” you blurted out suddenly. Edward leaned back in surprise, looking you over questioningly. 

“What do you mean?” he inquired, but kept his hand on you.

“Uh, I- I was born with a female body. I’m… I am a man. I know I am. But- uh- you know. And I understand if you’re disgusted and want me off the ship-”

“Oh! No, I don’t care,” Edward said easily, shrugging before leaning back in. He whispered against your lips, “I’m fuckin’ obsessed with you.”

Then, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss.

Your mind was still reeling with what he’s just told you. He was obsessed with you? Why?

Despite that, you reciprocated, opening your mouth slightly to let him lick into your mouth. Moaning softly, you moved your tongue against his, enjoying the proximity and how filthy it all was now, when seconds ago he was practically sweet-talking you.

Breaking the kiss, you were panting, breathing each other’s air as neither of you really moved out of the other one’s personal space. 

“I wanna fuck you,” Blackbeard murmured, bringing his free hand up to your face and caressing it with his fingers.

“Okay. I’d like that,” you whispered in response. 

Smiling, Edward ran his digits over your lips. Obediently, you opened your mouth for him and let him slide his index and middle fingers inside, rubbing against your tongue and pushing in as far as he could without making you gag. You closed your lips around the two fingers and sucked on them, keeping eye contact with Ed.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned before removing his digits from you mouth. 

Then, he started to unbutton his pants and pulled out his semi-hard cock. 

“Show me what else you can do with your mouth,” Ed commanded hoarsely.

Sliding down from the sofa and onto your knees, you took his cock into your hands and engulfed its head with your mouth, suckling on it, swirling your tongue around it and licking into his slit. You could feel him growing harder in your hands and mouth. It gave you quite the confidence boost. And so you used one hand to hold onto the base and grabbed his leather-clad thigh with the other one before sliding his cock further into your mouth. You started bobbing your head, sucking whenever you reached his cock head and going as far down as you could after.

Eventually, Ed grabbed you by your hair and pulled you off of him.

“I don’t wanna come just yet. Wanna do that in you. Okay, Y/N?” Hearing him say your name in that raspy voice he had from being so aroused had your stomach turn into little butterflies that fluttered inside of you. 

“Yeah- yes, please,” you nodded enthusiastically.

Standing up from the couch, Ed loomed over you. Then he held out his hand to you. You took it and he helped you get up from the floor, guiding you over to his bed. Before he let you lie down, though, he started pulling off your shirt and took off your pants right after, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. You felt exposed. You didn’t bind your chest since the shirt usually hid it well enough, but now it was out in the open. It felt strange to let someone see; especially with that someone being Blackbeard.

Seconds later, your underwear was gone as well. 

You had never been completely naked in front of anybody else.

You tried to resist the urge to cover yourself up. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of Ed. He said he didn’t care. You just had to believe him now.

“Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ hot!” Edward exclaimed, grinning at you, as he looked you up and down with that glint in his eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher.

You almost wanted to say ‘really?’, but decided against it. If he said so, then that was true for him and you had to accept that now. It was no use beating yourself up any further when you were about to have sex with this man.

Instead, you just smiled shyly at him and thanked him politely. 

In response, Ed pushed you on the bed and followed you down, lying on top of you and between your legs. His erection pressed against your crotch. You could feel how wet you were for him already. You wanted to feel him inside you so badly.

Propping himself up with one arm, Ed put his hands between your thighs and pushed a finger into your wet heat. Sighing, you pushed back. He thrust it in and out of you a bit before adding a second finger, repeating the process, until he had four fingers inside of you and you were moaning loudly and unashamedly. He told you to be as loud as you needed to be and you were. With him making you feel so good, all your shame and embarrassment was suddenly gone.

At last, he pulled out his fingers and stroked his cock to spread your wetness on it.

“Ready?” he asked, looking you in the eye.

“Yes,” you responded immediately, smiling at him.

He smiled back shortly. Then, he guided his cock to your entrance and slowly pushed inside. Once he bottomed out, you both moaned. He leaned his forehead against yours and just breathed with you.

“You feel so fucking good around me, mate,” Ed rasped.

“And you feel even better inside of me, Ed,” you moaned, pushing back against him.

Pulling out until just his cock head stayed inside of you, Ed thrust back in hard, making the bed shake. He repeated that again and again, until he found a rhythm that suited you both. As he fucked you, Edward leaned down and licked into your mouth, capturing you in a filthy kiss. 

When you felt yourself getting close, you snaked a hand between the two of you and your thighs, rubbing your dick. Ed leaned back, admired the sight and continued to fuck you in earnest. 

At last, you were coming, moaning loudly, throwing your head back and arching your back, as you could feel your muscles contract around Ed, squeezing him tight. It elicited a surprised-sounding groan from him. And then, he was already coming inside of you as well, burying his face in your neck, muffling his moans.

Panting, Ed pulled out of you and laid down beside you, wrapping his arms around you. 

“That was amazing,” Edward breathed, laughing shortly, “Fuck! You’re amazing, Y/N. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

You looked at him in wonder. This was the notorious Blackbeard. And he was telling you something so kind? You knew he had a heart, yes, but this was a lot more than that to you. 

“Thank you so much. For everything just now. I’m actually quite speechless,” you said, unable to keep the stupid grin off of your face.

In response, Ed kissed your cheek, along your jaw, your chin and then your lips.

And really, that was enough of a response for you. This was everything you had ever dreamed of and so much more.

[arvinsescape]

Can I request a Tom x reader where they have been dating for a while and Tom wants to take a break and get away a from all the fans and paparazzi so they go off to a private cabin with no one around and it’s surrounded by trees and they have a hot tub in the backyard and they decide to go into the hot tub at night then Tom starts to massage her shoulders and starts to take off her bikini and turns the jets on and pushes y/n up against the jet while fingering her and overstimulating her

Hot Tub Antics.

A/N: I was too excited to write this and I just couldn't hold off any longer!! Thank you so much for sending this in, I love it and I hope you enjoy!! 💕💕

Warnings: Language, smut (fingering, overstimulation, unprotected sex (wrap it up, stay safe)). Minors do not engage.

Tom was so incredibly tired, he needed a break, he hadn't seen you properly in what felt like months. He'd seen you but not in the way he'd like, the hype surrounding his latest films coming out was just draining. He didn't want to sound ungrateful, he really didn't but honestly? He just wanted time, alone, with you.

You'd always been supportive, in the two years you'd been dating him you'd never complained about the time away he had to spend. Never complained when he'd had to disappear for an interview, even if it meant ruining your cuddling session on the couch or interrupted dinner if he had a last minute call. He loved you truly and right now, all he wanted was you, his ache to just be with you uninterrupted was strong, almost painful.

The fans and the paparazzi where tiring him, he couldn't go anywhere at the moment without someone approaching him. He just needed to get away, before it all became too much, before he started snapping at them unfairly. He didn't want to come across as a dick but he needed a break.

That's what brought you both here, he'd found a secluded cabin, one no one would find. It was alone, not a single other cabin around, almost like it was meant for the exact purpose he needed it. It was beautiful, scenic, the trees surrounding it where peaceful.

"You brought me out here to kill me?" You joked as you admired your surroundings.

"Caught me." He teased back and you laughed loudly at that.

"I'd like to see you try Holland." You said and he looked down at you with a playful glint in his eye. He loved this aspect of your relationship, playful, free. Made him feel young when the world made him feel older at times.

"I'll give you a five second head start." He smirked and he watched as you bit your lip and took off into the cabin. It wasn't long before he had you pinned on the floor, tickling you as his tiredness towards the world washed away. He laughed at your giggles, it'd been a while since you'd done anything fun like this.

"Tom?" You said after a while, laughing calming as you placed your hand on his cheek.

"Yeah?" He asked from his position above you.

"I've missed you." You said and he knew what you meant by that, you'd missed him in the same way he'd missed you. He'd seen you but not properly.

It had always been in between other things when he did, too tired to do much. Too stressed to play fight, something the two of you did regularly. It was nice.

"I've missed you too." He answered easily.

**

It had been a chilled out day, neither really expecting much from the other as they just enjoyed each other's company. It was night time, a cool breeze to the air as darkness settled in, it was peaceful, quiet. A stark contrast to the screaming and flashing lights he'd been enduring for the last few months.

"You getting in?" He asked as he looked up at you, you'd been admiring the view for a while, it wasn't often you both got to feel so encased in nature, cities taking up most of your lives.

"Yeah." You said as you slipped into the hot tub next to him, sighing as your body made contact with the warm water. You sat across from him as you chattered away about something or another but you weren't close enough.

"Come here." He mumbled as he reached for your hand which you happily took, a light scream leaving your lips as he pulled you easily into him. "Love you." He said into your hair as you settled against his chest, returning the affectionate words.

You stayed like that for a while, enjoying each other's company. Tom had his arm slung over the back of the hot tub as you sat next to him, he watched as you took a sip out of your wine glass before placing it back on the side.

He moved his hand down to your shoulder after he watched you roll them. You leaned up and kissed his cheek, Tom smiling as he returned the gesture. He moved you so you were between his legs, placing his hands on your shoulders.

"Tom, what are you doing?" You asked and he lent forward, placing a quick kiss to your shoulder blade.

"Just relax." He said and you did, instantly as his hands massaged your shoulders, your head rolling back at the sensation. No matter how many times Tom did this, you could never get enough.

Tom watched as you responded to his touch, getting lost in the soft sighs of pleasure leaving your lips. It wasn't long before his thoughts went elsewhere, especially when you practically moaned as he dug his thumb into a knot and loosened it.

"That's nice." You sighed and Tom moved to place a kiss to your neck. Chin resting on your shoulder as he snaked his arms around your waist pulling you flush against him. Back pressed firmly into his chest.

"Yeah?" Tom asked as he watched you nod, head falling back onto his shoulder. It'd been a while since you'd been able to do this, take your time over sex, it had been quick fucks in between interviews or filming. Getting each other off as quick as possible because you were both so tired, that was if either of you even felt up to it. Tom wasn't gonna let this opportunity pass.

"You look so pretty." He said into your ear as he placed his hands on your stomach, hands splayed out on the exposed flesh. He hadn't missed how hot you looked in your bikini.

"So do you." You responded as you rolled your head to kiss his cheek. However, he swiftly moved his head, capturing your lips in his own. You hummed into the kiss, hand moving to run through his hair. You scratched at his head in the way he loved, he found it comforting and a turn on all at the same time.

It was completely full of passion, Tom's hands roaming as the slid up your body, cupping your bikini clad breasts. He felt as your nipples hardened under the touch and licked your bottom lip, asking for entrance which you granted.

He moved a hand up your back, finding the ties that kept your bikini top on, making swift work of undoing them, the top floating away as your exposed breasts fell back into his greedy hands. He rolled a nipple between his fingers and heard as you moaned quietly against his lips.

His hand snaked down to your bikini bottoms, playing with the hem for a moment before he slid his hand in, he didn't miss the way your breathing picked up. The way your body responded to his touch, it was like you both could feel it, it had been a while since you'd taken your time and it was clear you were both going to enjoy this.

Not that you didn't always enjoy sex, you truly did, he always made sure you got off but sometimes it came quicker than both of you liked. Tom was a very selfless man in bed, he liked to make sure you orgasmed multiple times and wasn't satisfied with the lack of orgasms you'd had recently.

"Tom." You panted into his ear and he groaned, yeah you were gonna come multiple times tonight. That much he would make sure of.

His finger ran through your slit, teasing your entrance as he placed an arm around your waist, tightening it to keep you still and flush against him.

"I've missed you." He said as he sucked at your neck, his finger finding your clit as he rubbed it in soft circles. The rise and fall of your chest becoming harder as you panted into his ear, the occasional moan slipping past your lips.

"You can be as loud as you want, no one's gonna hear you out here." He said, encouraging your moans, lips attaching to the skin below your earlobe, sucking at the spot he knew would have you moaning.

"Tom, please." You moaned, hand fisting his hair. He applied more pressure to your clit, rubbing faster circles, your moans becoming the only sound in the otherwise silent environment. Tom loved it, it'd been a while since these kind of moans had graced his ears and he couldn't wait to bring you to your next few orgasms, knowing they'd only get better.

Your back arched from his chest as your climax approached, Tom holding you closer against him as he brought you to your first high.

"Come for me Y/N, come on." He said as he bit down on your lobe, groaning as your hand fisted tighter in his hair, his cock was hard, incredibly so. Your head rolled on his shoulder as your orgasm took over, the first one of the night as Tom rubbed your clit through it.

Your hand relaxed in his hair as you turned your head and captured his lips, biting his bottom lip as he continued to rub your clit. You were sensitive now, your first orgasm having been one of the best you'd had for a while.

"I'm not finished with you princess." Tom said as he kissed your temple, a shiver running down your spine at his words.

You were left confused for a second before he moved you, turning you so you were now facing the edge of the hot tub, you wondered what he was doing when his hands left you for a moment, he took your bikini bottoms off and re-joined you. He took both your hands in his and placed them on the side of the hot tub.

You wondered what he was playing at when he moved his hand again. You gasped as you felt it, the jets had now been turned on and Tom's hands were back on your waist. He moved you slightly before your sensitive clit came in contact with one of the jets and you moaned. Your sensitive clit feeling everything.

"There we go." Tom said as he kept you in place, your body filling with nothing but euphoria. The pleasure heightened as your clit felt everything. You felt as Tom's fingers teased your entrance, carefully sliding in and you moaned. "Take my fingers so well don't you?" Tom said, lips back at your ear as you felt his chest against your back again.

He continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, you were a moaning mess, Tom's free hand moving to lace with one of yours as he held it down at the side of the tub. The pleasure was incredible, completely consuming as you felt your second orgasm approach.

"Tom, I'm." You couldn't even finish your sentence as you pleasure built up through your veins, consuming every part of your brain. Your vision becoming slightly blurred. You closed them and threw your head back.

"Give me another, come on. Come for me baby, make a mess of my fingers." He said as he fucked his fingers quicker, brushing your spot as you orgasmed again. You screamed his name as the pleasure took over, completely consuming you and you were glad no one could hear the obscene sounds you made as Tom fucked you through your high.

You came down and instantly tried to move your clit away from the jet, the pleasure becoming too much. Tom let you shift slightly, clit no longer feeling the blast of the jet.

"Did so well for me princess, what do you want?" He asked as he kissed your temple, bringing you into an upright position as he held you against him and your head rolled to the side on his chest. Breathing still uneven as you continued to calm down.

"Your dick." You said simply and he smiled, kissing your temple again as he moved to the seat in the tub, sitting, bringing you with him. He encouraged you to turn around, stroking his thumb across your cheek as he looked into your eyes.

"So beautiful." He mumbled as he captured your lips in his own. "Come on, hop on." He smirked as he pulled you into him, you weren't sure when he'd taken his swim shorts off but he had. He guided himself into you, giving you a moment to adjust.

You gasped as he entered you, two orgasms meant you could feel every single inch of him as he entered you. You grasped his shoulders as you gave yourself a minute, everything felt like it was on fire, burning through your veins.

"Fuck, so fucking tight." He said as he placed his hands on your hips, you nodded at him, signalling you were ready to move and Tom wasted no time in slowly drawing your hips back before slamming them back down on him. Both moaning at the feeling.

"Fuck, shit." Tom said as he continued. You took over, fucking into him as he met your thrusts. His hands running everywhere, almost like he couldn't decide where he wanted to feel so he felt all of it. Your body was shaking slightly from the pleasure.

Tom finally placed his hands on your shaking thighs, taking over as your third orgasm approached. You blacked out slightly, your orgasm hitting you as soon as Tom touched your over sensitive bundle of nerves.

"I've got you baby, that's it, that's right, come for me. How many is that? Three? So good, taking everything I'm giving you." Tom whispered into your ear as everyone of your senses blurred, he came shortly after. Your senses came back to normal, you smiled down at him as you did.

"Fucking hell." You breathed out, he was still inside you, still hard and you wondered if you'd imagined him finishing. "Did you not?" You asked in confusion and Tom smirked as he captured your lips in a swift kiss.

"Oh I did, but watching you orgasm like that? Fuck." He said as he stroked your hair, standing with you as he carried you out of the hot tub. "I'm not finished with you yet babygirl." His lustful voice filled your ears and you moaned. You were in for a night of pure pleasure, you knew that much.

[burgers-and-french-fries]

Hi ! Would you be able to write a fic with Taron in it? 😊 I have this idea of Taron having to stay in the US because of filming new movie but his fiancé is finishing her degree at the university and Taron is not able to come to see her graduation ceremony because of his work, but then he comes in the last possible moment during the ceremony and supports her and then he takes her for a dinner and after that he gives her a massage which then will turn into something more steamy and it’s his gift for her 😎 it’s totally fine if you don’t feel like writing this a bit smutty fiction 😊 All the other details are up to you so that it’s easier for you to write the fic 😅 Love your writing, I always feel like it’s a reality!

Note: Hi lovely. Thank you so much for your request. i had so much fun working on it. I hope that you enjoy it and I hope it matches what you had Envisioned in your mind.

I would also like to note that part of the dialogue in the graduation scene comes from a video of the Johns Hopkins university 2016 graduation ceremony.

===

With your wedding being six and a half weeks away, not only were you putting the final touches on your special day, but you were also staring your graduation day in the face. All whilst expecting a baby and dealing with a missing fiancé. You loved him but his business trips really took a toll on your relationship, especially now.

You had arranged to facetime tonight and while you were waiting, you went through how to write your wedding vows to him. You knew that you wanted him to know just how blessed you were that he chose you, but you also wanted him to know just how excited you were for this next chapter of your lives. You loved him more than anything in the world and no matter how many times you put pencil to paper, you continuously grunted in annoyance as you were unable to get your words out the way you wanted to.

You let out a big huff and went to the kitchen to make yourself a coffee. Normally you wouldn’t drink coffee, especially since you found out about the baby, but you felt like this particular situation called for one….a large one!

Whilst you were waiting for your Kureg to do its thing, you stared out the kitchen window at the lush green field behind your house. You can remember the first time that you and Taron saw it. It took your breath away and with the idea of having your kids run about in amongst the grass gave you a sense of happiness. You both knew right then and there that this property was for you.

You smiled to yourself and rubbed your slight bump. That’s when it came to you, the memory of meeting Taron for the first time.

*FLASHBACK*

From the time you were a little girl, you had a dream to become a teacher. Granted you didn’t know exactly what to teach, you just knew that you wanted to help people realize their dreams and what a better way to do that then to become a teacher. So, at the age of 22, you packed up and made the move to London to go and hopefully find a place you fit in. Your parents had often spoke of a place they had holidayed in whilst they were young, and you figured it would be a great place to start.

The small seaside university town of Aberystwyth was stunning. It’s picturesque views, friendly people and mouth-watering food was something that been calling to your heart for years and now that you were standing on the prom letting your body bask in the warm sun, you felt at home.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, allowing the fresh ocean breeze to fill your lungs. You felt your whole body relax. Yep, you definitely needed this.

“Excuse me, have you seen a small dog run past here?” Someone asked, pulling you from your state of euphoria. You looked at them and smiled sympathetically.

“No, I’m sorry. I haven’t.” You replied kindly. They sighed and slumped their shoulders forward.

“Ok. Thanks anyway.” They spoke. Before you could answer them, they ran off and left you standing there shaking your head. You silently wished them well in their mission to find the dog they spoke of.

Deciding that you’d had enough excitement, you walked back toward your little solace for the duration of your trip.

It was a quaint little place with a coat of pale-yellow paint somewhat peeling off the walls. The windows were small but still let in enough light to make you smile and warm your heart. The sweet potted plants in various corners of the flat was a nice contrast to the yellow. Overall, it was your little oasis.

=

Later that night, you were determined to get your body motivated enough to get dressed up and hit one of the pubs in town. You had heard good things about The Glen from your parents and since their passing, you wanted to do things that would ultimately bring you closer to them. It made your heart happy to know that your feet were in places they used to visit when they’d come on vacation.

“What can I get you?” The waitress asked as she approached you. You smiled at her.

“I’ll have the steak and chips and a hot chocolate please.” You replied. The waitress jotted down your order and went back to the kitchen.

Once she was out of your view, you leaned back with a sigh and pulled out your phone. You pulled up your texts and typed a quick note to your great aunt. She was minding your house for you whilst you were away, and you were so grateful for her. After all, she was the only family you had left really.

You typed away on your phone as someone approached your table. You looked up and quickly pocketed your phone. It was your food, and it was to you in good time as your tummy grumbled loudly.

“Sorry.” You mumbled apologetically. The waitress giggled.

“No need to be sorry. You’d be surprised at how many people have that reaction when their food arrives.” She told you. You smiled and chuckled a little bit. You could see that for sure.

“Thank you so much.” You said as she took a step to leave. She seemed shocked to hear that but accepted, nonetheless.

“You’re welcome. Enjoy.” She said, fully making her leave.

You looked down at your food and instantly your mouth began to water. Everything was presented so nicely, and the helping was decently sized. It was perfect.

“You would love this.” You whispered as you looked at the ceiling, hoping that no one saw you. Wrong. Someone did.

“Why do you keep doing that?” They asked. You looked at them with confusion.

“Excuse me?” You asked, a little harsher than you meant to. They raised their eyebrows slightly.

“I didn’t mean that as harsh as it sounded.” You said quickly. The man speaking to you gave you an amused smile.

“It’s ok.” He responded.

“I’m not really sure what you mean by ‘keep doing that’.” You explained. He pointed to the rafters above you.

“You keep looking at the ceiling.” He said, taking a drink of his beer.

“Oh, I didn’t realize that I was.” You said before thinking of the fact that he’d been watching you. That caused you to raise your brow.

“Hang on a second, why are you staring at me? That’s a bit rude.” You stated, pointing your steak loaded fork at him. He smiled cheekily at you. It made your heart flutter.

“I asked you first.” He replied. He had you there. You bit your lip. You weren’t sure if you wanted to get into all the details so you just gave him the simplest answer you could.

“My parents passed away and they loved steak.” You told him, even you had to laugh at how silly that answer sounded. The man lit up like a Christmas tree and his laugh made your stomach flip. He was hot.

“They used to vacation here when they were younger and would often talk about this place. They loved the steak here.” You explained, hoping that would suffice. Thankfully, it did.

“I’m sorry for laughing.” He replied once your laughter had died down. You smiled and shrugged.

“Thanks but it was a while ago.” You spoke. He nodded.

“I’m Taron.” He said as he held his hand out. You quickly swallowed your broccoli spear and held your hand out. Oh hell, even his name was hot.

“Y/n.” You answered.

“So, y/n, where are you from?” He questioned, watching you bite into more steak. He’d be lying if he said that the way you eat wasn’t adorable.

“Lomdom.” You mumbled around your food. You immediately felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Taron chuckled.

“You’re cute.” He admitted, adding to your flushed cheeks. You swallowed harshly and wanted to hide behind the giant napkin you were given.

“Let me try that again. I’m from London.” You spoke. He nodded.

“I got that.” He returned.

“I’m not making a very good lady like impression, am I?” You questioned him. Taron winked at you.

“You’re doing just fine, love.” He answered and you hung your head, hoping to hide your reddened cheeks.

*END OF FLASHBACK*

The ringtone coming from your phone pulled you from your trip through memory lane. It was your husband to be.

“Well, hello there stranger.” You greeted as his face appeared on the screen. He was just as beautiful as the day you met some 10 years ago.

“Hello you. How are you?” He asked.

“I’m doing well. I’m just trying to write my vows.” You answered, rolling your eyes to really emphasize your annoyance. He smiled.

“I finished mine already.” He admitted, making you gape at him.

“How the hell did you manage that? Normally I have to keep pestering you to get things done.” You asked, gobsmacked at his admission. He shrugged.

“It was easy.” He replied.

“Pshh.” You huffed, drawing a hearty laugh from him.

“So, you ready for your graduation tomorrow?” He questioned.

“Yes and no. Part of me can’t believe that it’s happening already but part of me is relieved that it’s here. I also wish you could be here to celebrate with us.” You replied. Taron smiled sympathetically. He really wanted to be there for you as well, knowing just how much this meant to you.

“I love you so much sweetheart.” He told you. You gave him a half smile.

“What’s really on your mind?” He asked, knowing you far too well.

“There are so many changes happening and I just wish my parents could be here to see everything happen.” You admitted.

“They’re always going to be with you, honey. I bet they are so proud of you and everything that you’ve accomplished and will accomplish.” He said sincerely.

“Ass kisser.” You responded.

“I’m serious, y/n.” Taron said, and you sighed.

“You know, I was thinking about the night we met. I can’t wait to tell the baby that story.” You told him.

“You’re going to be a wonderful mother. You are already.” He complimented.

Both of you talking for the next few hours about anything and everything.

=

The next morning came quicker than you were ready for. The alarm went off and you begrudgingly hit the off button.

“Ahhh, don’t wanna get up.” You grumbled through a very big stretch. You sure needed it after the wild dreams you were having recently. You blamed the pregnancy because normally you didn’t dream but since your baby was discovered, all you had been having were very vivid dreams.

Once your stretch was over, you looked around the room, you’d give anything to have Taron beside you today, but you knew that it wasn’t possible. He’d have to settle for pictures and maybe a couple videos.

“Well little sprout, looks like it’s just you and me today.” You told your 11-week-old foetus. Even if you were almost at the end of your first trimester, you and Taron were already so in love with your little miracle which was now the size of a Brussels Sprout, hence the nickname sprout. Hearing Taron refer to the baby with that name made you laugh. It was the most adorable thing ever and so far, it was sticking.

You gave your belly your routine rub and got out of bed to get ready for your graduation. You had worked so hard at your teaching degree, and this was just one more thing that made you feel that much closer to your parents, who were both teachers at one point.

You smiled to yourself as you examined your appearance in the bathroom mirror. Your bump looked even more prominent today than it did last night. Your hair was definitely becoming thicker and healthier looking and your skin, well, it was breaking out here and there, but you really didn’t mind as it was a sign that your baby was growing big and strong.

Jumping into the shower, you lathered up your washcloth and set to washing yourself and making yourself feel refreshed and ready for kissing your classes goodbye. That’s not to say you didn’t enjoy your courses because you did, but it would just be nice not to have your attention divided between so many things.

=

Meanwhile, Taron was rushing through security so that he could board his connecting flight to London. He didn’t want to tell you last night that he was able to get some time off to see you reach your dream. He had been in America filming his latest project and while you were proud of him, you really did want him by your side. He could sense that last night and had already made up his mind that he was coming home. He was booking tickets and organizing things with his team before your facetime call the night prior. To say he was excited to see your reaction was an understatement.

“Where are you off to today?” The officer at security asked. Taron scratched his cheek.

“I’m headed home to London to surprise my fiancé.” He replied truthfully. The officer looked at Taron’s passport and once satisfied, handed back the document and let Taron go, but not before wishing him well. Taron thanked him and rushed to his gate

“Just in time sir.” The woman at the desk said. Taron gave her a slight smile and quickly handed her his ticket and passport. She was kind enough to check over everything speedily and let him go.

=

“Oh honey, you look beautiful.” Your great aunt said as she zipped up your dress. It was a stunning white sundress with a gorgeous red floral pattern printed all over it.

“Thank you, aunty.” You said, smoothing your hand over the material. You both smiled.

“So, how do you feel about breakfast?” You asked. She gave you a sympathetic smile after checking her watch.

“I’m sorry lovie, I have an appointment that I’ll be late for if I don’t leave now.” She replied. You shrugged. You were disappointed but you understood so you wrapped your arms around her in a sweet embrace.

“No need to be sorry. I understand.” You told her.

“I will meet you later?” She questioned. You smiled brightly and nodded.

“I’ll be the one in black up the front.” You teased, earning a hearty laugh from her.

You walked your aunt to her car and helped her in before bidding your goodbyes and watching her drive off. You loved her so much and you were so glad that she was going to be here for you today. It meant a great deal to you.

=

Your great aunt stood in the arrivals area of the airport waiting for Taron. She looked around at all the people coming through the glass doors and wondered what their stories were. Were they loved ones coming to visit grandkids etc.? Were they coming to start new lives? Whatever their stories, she enjoyed watching the reunions and excited squeals coming from various small children.

“Hello Maybell.” Taron said softly, not wanting to scare her or rip her away from her people watching. She turned to face your fiancé and threw her arms around him.

“Hello my boy. Did you have a safe journey?” She asked. Taron nodded. He was so glad to be home with family.

“I did but I could really use a coffee. My treat.” He told her. Maybell chuckled and took his suitcase for him.

“You’re too good to me.” Maybell said as they made their way to where the car was parked.

=

A few hours later, you were waiting at the university with your friend of 10 years, Tasha. She was the one who served you at the glen the night you met Taron. You two had kept in touch and she was such a good support to you, especially now since your aunt hadn’t arrived yet. You were worried she’d miss the ceremony.

“Don’t worry so much. I’m sure she’ll be here soon.” Tasha told you. You nodded.

“I hope so. I don’t want her to miss this.” You said, biting your lip and looking around one more time. You felt deflated as you still hadn’t caught a glimpse of her. She told you that she’d be wearing bright yellow so that you couldn’t miss her. That comment made you laugh. Yellow was your favorite colour as it reminded you of the warmth of the sun. It was also to be the colour of your little one’s nursery….or so you hoped. Taron was hesitant on the colour choice as he deemed it way too bright it would be blinding.

“I think it’s about to start. I’ll keep a chair open for her. I know she’ll be here. She wouldn’t miss it.” Tasha told you. You smiled at her and hugged her tight. You were feeling your nerves set in and you could’ve used a hug from Maybell, but Tasha’s hugs were good as well.

“Thank you.” You said as you quickly found your seat.

Tasha of course knew what was going on, but she promised that she wouldn’t say anything. As she sat down, she felt her phone buzz. She grabbed it and saw a text from Taron. He was letting her know that they were in the building. Tasha smiled and typed back a reply, telling him where she was.

=

Sitting in your seat not being able to look behind you was torture. All you wanted to do was to see if Maybell had arrived, but you knew it would be rude to turn around now and scan the crowed. You just had to settle on waiting until you stood to receive your degree. You took a deep breath and sighed slowly.

“The candidates have been certified by the faculty of the school of education for their degree of teaching education and I wish for them to live long and prosper.” The dean of students spoke. Your heart raced with anticipation at what was coming next…your freedom.

The Dean soon sat back in her seat and the president made his way to the lectern for his turn to speak.

“By virtue of the authority vested in me by the board of trustees of London University, I confer upon each and every one of you and the candidates unable to be present, the degree of doctor of education from the school of education for which you have been certified by the faculty together with all the rights privileges and responsibilities, pertaining there to, warmest congratulations.” The president said, earning a round of applause. This was it.

The dean of students made her way back to the lectern.

“Will the recipients of the degree just confirmed, please come forward when your name is called.” She spoke, adding a warm smile at the end. You and your fellow classmates stood up and made your way to the stage.

You felt your palms grow sweaty and your legs go numb and weak at the same time. Your whole body shook with nerves, making your heart race beyond all comprehension. Damn, this silence in the auditorium was terrifying but so worth it. You looked around for any sign of your aunt. There she was next to Tasha and to your utter surprise, so was Taron in all his cheeky glory. He was beaming at you with so much pride.

You both locked eyes and he sent a wink your way. Fuck, you loved this man.

“For the degree of education, y/n y/l/n.” The head of the board called. You made your way across the stage with a wide but very nervous smile on your face. You waved to your family and received your certification. You did it and now you could focus on your wedding and arrival of your baby.

Many more names were called and with each one, the audience clapped and cheered for their loved ones.

The ceremony soon ended and when it did, you ran straight for the man you had missed so much. He met you halfway and threw his arms around you.

“I’m so proud of you babe.” He muttered into your ear.

“I love you so much Taz.” You replied, pulling back and placing your lips on his. Both Maybell and Tasha giggling like they always did at your displays of affection.

“I don’t know about you Maybell, but I’d say these two need a proper catch up.” Tasha teased. Maybell agreed and the four of you made your way to the parking lot and headed your separate ways.

=

“I can’t believe you came all this way for me.” You said from your shared bathroom. Taron finished changing and knocked on the door. You wanted to change into something more comfortable since the dress you had been wearing began to feel too constricting.

“No matter how far away I seem to be, I’ll always be here for you.” He said, opening the door. You looked at him and blushed. Everything about him made you want to jump on him.

“Same goes for me babe.” You replied, pulling him in for another hug.

“So, take away?” Taron asked after a few minutes. You nodded.

“Yes please. That sounds amazing.” You replied.

“What shall we have?” Taron questioned. You gave it a though and concluded that all your favorite food would be sufficient enough.

“I think I want a bit of all of our favorites.” You answered.

“That sounds doable. Why don’t you have a soak in the bath and get proper relaxed, and I’ll take care of everything else.” Taron told you. You leaned up to kiss him deeply.

“Thank you.” You said once you pulled away.

=

You had been in the bath for a good half an hour and during that time, you could hear Taron walking in and out of your bedroom. It made you curious as to what he was doing but whatever it was, it made you laugh at the sounds escaping his lips.

“Babe, I’m ready to get out now.” You called, just in case he was up to something. He was.

Taron had taken the opportunity to set up your bedroom with candles, rose petals, soft music, your takeaway food and of course the little gift he had for you in celebration of your graduation.

“Just give me a minute.” He called, confirming your suspicions that he was up to something.

“Can I at least get out and dry off?” You called back. He glanced over his handy work and deemed it satisfactory.

“Yep.” He replied.

You took your time drying off and just before you were about to moisturize, Taron told you not to and to not wear your pj’s. You grunted a little bit but gave in.

“I’m opening the door now.” You told him.

“Ok.” He said, waiting with bated breath for your reaction. Your jaw hit the ground.

“Honey, this is amazing.” You said, scanning your bedroom.

“I’m glad you like it.” He responded, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. Doing that though allowed him to feel the one thing he hadn’t been able to. Your baby bump.

You chuckled and turned in his arms, letting the towel around you drop. Taron’s gaze was on your lower abdomen the whole time. No higher, no lower. He was enamoured to say the least.

“That has got to be the most magical thing I’ve ever seen.” He whispered, slowly grazing his fingers below your navel. You smiled at him. He had such a way with words.

“It’s grown a lot since you left.” You spoke. He looked up at you with a soft grin on his face and peace and wonderment in his eyes.

“I love you both so much.” He replied.

“We love you too.” You responded, running your hand through his thinning hair.

=

"That feels so good." You said just above a whisper, enjoying the feel of Taron’s hands on your bare back as he massaged out all your knots. When Taron didn't answer, you knew your words were too quiet for him to hear so you moved to sit up and hug him close. Taron wrapped you in his arms protectively. You slightly pulled away a minute later and kissed him tenderly. The man smiling into the kiss.

Taron ran his fingers through your loose hair and held it back so that he could kiss you without your hair coming between you two. You broke the kiss by tugging on Taron’s lower lip slightly. You tried to move away from him again to hug him, but Taron captured your lips and deepened the kiss. He moaned when he felt your tongue ghost along his lower lip. He opened his mouth and let his tongue meet yours in a slow and meaningful kiss. The sparks between you went off like fireworks in your bellies. The attraction growing tenfold between you.

Taron briefly broke the kiss to stand up. He took your hand and when you stood up as well, Taron picked you up and placed you gently on the bed. He then lit the fire logs he had set up in your fireplace before you got out of the bath. He wanted to make sure that everything was warm and cozy for the night of celebration he had planned. Taron proceeded to then take his shirt off and toss it on the ground next to his side of the bed. You watched as the glow of the fire cast shadows across Taron's now chiseled torso, giving him an ethereal glow. He smiled down at you, making you return the gesture.

The Welsh man got down on his knees before you and tenderly kissed your belly. You sat there with love in your eyes as Taron then leaned up and placed a kiss on your forehead.

"You have no idea how blessed I feel to have you in my life." He said as he looked at the ring on your left hand.

"Your parents would be so proud of you as well baby. You’ve made us all proud." Taron told you softly as your eyes welled up with tears.

"I wish they were here. They’d love you so much." You said, letting your tears fall. Taron took your left hand in his.

"I wish I got to meet them but if knowing you is anything to go by, I already know how much they’d approve." Taron said as he leaned closer to you. You smiled at him.

"I’ve been thinking that no matter what the baby’s gender is, we name them after your parents. " Taron said, rendering you speechless. You smiled and nodded your head.

“Are you sure?” You questioned.

“Yes. Absolutely.” He replied before kissing you passionately once again.

You were beyond happy at this point and knowing that Taron wanted your baby to have a special name meant more than the world itself to you. You had no idea how you’d gotten so lucky, but you were so grateful to whoever brought you and Taron together.

Moving from the kiss, Taron removed his jeans and boxers leaving you both exposed to the warmth of the fire.

Taron's lips roamed your body torturously slow, making you moan in contentment. Your eyes fluttering closed when you felt your man leave little love bites all over your body. The very same body that currently housed your first child.

Your nails scratched at Taron's scalp gently as he worked his way to your wanting core.

"So good baby." You breathed out as Taron's tongue grazed your clit. His tongue moving at a slow pace, allowing your body to feel the love he had for you, not just your body but for you as a person.

"Hmm, just like that." You moaned as Taron's overly skilled tongue pleasured your most intimate area.

Taron took his time with you, letting you feel maximum pleasure.

"Stop." You instructed, making Taron look up at you with worry in his eyes.

“What’s the matter?” Taron asked with concern.

"Come here." You whispered. Taron moved up to your lips and kissed them softly.

"Are you ok?" He asked and you nodded.

"I don’t want to rush this. I just want to take it slow." You replied and Taron moved to get off of you. You didn’t mean for him to leave so you simply held him in place so that he couldn't move.

"I just want to feel you against me." You started as you kissed him softly.

"I want to hold you." You said as you kissed him softly again.

"I want to kiss you." You continued as you kissed him again.

"I want to feel you in me." You whispered as you lightly kissed his lips.

"I want you." You concluded as you kissed him tenderly. Both of you moaning as your hands roamed the planes of Taron’s defined bare back.

Taron carefully pushed into you and sighed out in pleasure. Both of you feeling connected and loved. A feeling that you both had truly missed.

"Hmm. You smell like home." You whispered against Taron’s lips. Taron chuckled and looked at you with a love-stricken expression.

"You mean like dirty airports and airplane seats?" He joked, making you lock eyes with him. Taron felt like you were looking into his soul. It made his insides flutter and his cock somewhat twitch within you.

"No, not at all like that. You smell safe. Like you'd do anything to protect me and make me happy." You explained, making Taron smile.

"You smell all that on me, eh?" He teased. You nodded with seriousness.

"You're my safe place and you always have been. You always will be." You admitted as you pulled him down to your wanting lips.

As your kisses began to heat up, Taron thrust into you at a more relaxed and comfortable pace. He looked into your eyes and saw nothing but love and admiration for him.

"I love you y/n and I always will." He breathed out.

Both of you reaching your climaxes in eventual and euphoric bliss.

===

[littlemisslipbalm]

“you make me so angry sometimes”

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He snickers, “Y’like it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“S’a little rude.”

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seriously. What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t see it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So which am I?” She widens her eyes.

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

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

He laughs. “Thanks,” he drawls out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

“You’re late!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do not,” she warned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve got it,” Y/N says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s my job to touch you, Harry.”

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

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

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

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

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

He nods again, muttering “Fair, fair.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pauses again and she continues to work silently.

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

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

“Pardon?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop that,” She muttered.

“Stop what?” He smiles wider.

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

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

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

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

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, dude.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry hums and unclenches it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lisa nods, “Apologize.”

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

Lisa smiles.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He types back: “Of courseeee”.

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” he exhales.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yet the effect is similar,” she muses.

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

“Effect?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which part?”

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

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

“You know, so why don’t you?”

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

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

“And what if I don’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nick stays quiet, taking a drag of his cigarette.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I really am sorry,” she whispers again.

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re stubborn,” she notes.

“So are you,” he counters quickly.  

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

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

“That’d be nice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Passion.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry giggles and scratches his nose against his index finger.

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great. You?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harry,” she sighs contentedly.

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

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

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

“What?” Harry laughs, confused.

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

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

“How are you?” She continues.

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

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

“The one who’s obsessed with me?”

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

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

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

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

“Oh shut up!” She’s quick to reply.

“So you do?”

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

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

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

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

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

“No one said anything about nudes!”

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

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

“Aww, you’re flustered,” She coos.

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

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

“Because you called me,” he says confidently.

“I call everyone.”

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

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

“Or does it?”

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

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Yes!” He repeats happily.

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

“See you soon, Harry.”

“Not soon enough.”

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[obsessivelyloved]

Okay, how about this..Yandere! Tord who was orginally going to kidnap his darling, but when they recognize him in the streets the come running into his arms bc they have a obsessive ex boyfriend chasing after them?? Just wanted to see how this played out <3 (P.S Thank you for the birthday wishes! You're a really sweet person, and have such a high quality blog I honestly am confused what you're doing around my shitty blog-)

DHEIIFJFHDJH no I love your blog!!! You write so good and I love your eddsworld fics! Thank you for the request <3 I always get excited to see what you sent me :D

——————————————————————-

Out of all things Tord planned tonight, he never planned that you’d come crashing into his arms. Never planned that you’d smile so wide at him, cupping his face and calling him, “darling.”

Of course, he wrapped his arms around you and smiled back.

Relief filled your face as you whispered. “Thank you so much for going along with this. My-My ex, he won’t leave me alone. He, He’s going to-“

You’re shaking in his arms. You look as if you’re about to cry.

“Shhh, don’t worry,” he soothes. “You’re safe with me. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Not entirely, but you do know him. He’s been nice to you every time you see him so you nod. Friends. That didn’t sound so bad.

Tord hears something snap nearby. The bush. Your situation fully sinks into his mind and he scowls. Anger wells up in his chest. How dare that insignificant ex-boyfriend of yours do this to you. You never belonged to that man, especially since he’s now your ex. You were Tord’s. His. And he never did well with sharing.

“Okay, this is going to sound a little awful, but I need you to sit in my car. I’ll give you the keys so you can lock the door, but I’ll take care of your… ex boyfriend.” Tord pulls away from your hold and takes his keys out of his pocket. “Here, it’s the red car over there. I’ll be there soon and I can drive you home.”

You take the keys from him and pull him into a hug. “Thank you,” you lightly sob. “Thank you.”

He rubs your back. Euphoria fills him and he almost wants to laugh. Here he was, ready to kidnap you to get you into his arms, and you ran to him willingly. You saw him on the street and decided you trusted him enough to save you. Perhaps his plan was unneeded tonight.

Tord pulls away and gives you a push. You give him a small smile before speed walking to his car. Once you’re out of sight, he’s guessing you’re laying back into the passenger seat, he cracks his knuckles. Time to get to work. This asshole ex of yours has one thing coming and it’s going to be death by his hands.

It’s so easy to take your ex down that it’s almost pathetic. Still, Tord wants to make the man suffer. Hurt him for all that he’s done to you. But you’re waiting for him and so he won’t waste your time. He leaves the body in a bush and sends a few texts to his good friend Paul. Sure it’s late at night be Paul won’t be too mad. Hopefully.

Just to be mindful of your feelings, he slowly inches into your sight before he lightly taps on the window. You shoot up in your seat, eyes wild. At the sight of him, you relax. You unlock the car and Tord gets in.

“You could’ve turned it on,” he says as he starts it. “I wouldn’t have minded. It’s not good to sit in the cold.”

You shrug. “So uh….. You’re in one piece?”

Tord laughs. “Yeah, you won’t ever have to worry about that guy again. Promise and I’m a man of my word.”

“Thank you,” you hoarsely tell him. “He’s been. He wouldn’t leave me alone. For weeks, he wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“Ah that’s. That’s awful, truly. Now uh, where do you live? It’s getting pretty late out. Who knows what could happen if you walked home.”

He knows where you live. Knows the way like the back of his hand. But you don’t know that and he’d hate to make you uncomfortable. Make you give him that terrified look as he reveals he knows things he shouldn’t. So he gives you a smile and pretends it’s his first time driving to your house.

“I don’t know if this is impolite to ask, but um, would you like to get a drink together sometime?”

You smile at him. His heart flutters and he wants you to stay in his car with him.

“That would be great.”

He gets your phone number and a date. All plans of kidnapping are far from his mind as he drives home.

[tooweirdforyou]

The OP Boys & Their Personal Dirty Secrets pt. 2

A/N : Hey hun! I hope you like this! ( i can’t tag you idk why ) I saw you wanted a part two to this and decided to do it because it was fun. I guess, lol. anyways hope you like this! :>

Soooo, don’t judge the gif I couldn’t find anything else. Also I’m kinda tired ;-; alsooo. these ones are a LITTLE bit dirtier.

Warning : NSFW AHEAD! PROCEED WITH CAUTION! ⚠️ ESPECIALLY W/ THATCH.

kid and mihawk don’t have specific dark secrets since I couldn’t think of anything that would yk connect to them. ;-;

Summary : All of these boys and their personal, hidden dirty secrets. PART TWO!

-

Doflamingo

Oh boy, this male, despite his possessiveness, has a bit of a voyeurism kink. He hasn’t yet, but he DEFINITELY wants to turn on the country wide announcement, ( like those screens whatever used in Dressrosa when he talked ) and just fuck you as everyone watches throughout the island. He dreams of it, and one day, HE WILL make it a reality.

“How does it feel?” The lick of his lips and the shit-eating grin was on display all over the island for the people of Dressrosa to see, the image of Doflamingo’s hips thrusting and making contact with your rear.

“Does it feel good to have the whole island watching you being fucked senseless, by me? Their king?”

You couldn’t respond, lost in the insane amount of pleasure that ran through your body, specifically your lower regions. You didn’t even care that you were being watched, basking in the euphoria you were given at the moment.

Doffy’s strings suspended you partially in air, the material binding your body so you couldn’t move in the slightest as he took you from behind.

Arms wrapped around your bare figure, one holding you thigh tightly while the other wrapped around your torso, his hand grasping your throat and his fingers, pressing itself onto the flesh of your neck.

If you were fortunate, your face was cut off from the screen to be visible but your exposed body was seen by everyone who watched.

Doflamingo felt glory and power, as he continued to fuck you for all to see, your sweet, melodic moans echoing through the island as he did this.

What a fantasy that will soon become a reality.

-

Kid

Literally anything but also nothing. I couldn’t think of anything.. so here’s a kink he has! Dominant Submission. (?) basically, he LOVES the submissive ones, but those who really fight back. Feisty bitches yk? But like, he knows you’re all talk because he’ll have you begging for him on your knees once the two of you really get started. ;)

You’re teasing the hell out of Kid. You’re being bad by ignoring Kid and disobeying his orders and the Captain has had enough.

He barges into your room, slamming the door shut with the lock clicking on and before you could react, he has his hand around your throat and your back shoved to the wall.

“You think you’re being funny?” He growls into your ear, instantly using his free hand to rip your clothes off in a swift pull.

Despite the lack of air you had, your face still formed a sly and cheeky smirk in response. “I..I think it’s.. hilarious. Ha.”

Kid scowls before slowly smirking himself and tightened his grip on your neck a little bit more, but not enough to actually kill you. ( he cares after all :> )

“Tch. Looks like you need a punishment.” He drags you over to your bed and shoves you roughly done onto him, unbuckling his pants and pulled the belt out from the loops and pressed the two ends together so he had an able whipping belt. ( make sense? )

You merely grin at this and tilt your head. “Oh? Is that for me?” You hum and sat up, legs up and spread for him to see your already getting wet pussy, arms over you knees.

The sight of it made Kid growl lowly before he walks closer to you. “Time for you to face the consequences of pissing me off.”

With one hand, he forces you down onto the bed, breasts against the mattress and your ass forcefully in the air.

And with the raise of his other hand, it was only seconds before a loud whip was heard.

Tears stings the corner of your eyes but you still held strong, biting your lip. “Is that all you got? Guess you weren’t so angry.” You laugh and Kid didn’t respond, only whipping you once more, a little more force.

“Don’t you worry. I have all night long.”

[ I could write a whole OneShot about this, I had to stop lol ]

-

Marco

Little bit harder, buttt, come on. Sex in the air? Marco’s dream, for sure. And if he’s going to admit it, yes, he has done sexual activities in the air, where no one would be around.

The blonde doctor soars across the sky, a little ways away from the ship, not too far to lose sight but enough where he wouldn’t be seen, regardless of it being the time of night.

He’s only ever done it once or twice, but the no matter how many times Marco would do it again afterwards, the first time experience couldn’t ever be bested.

Sexual activities in the air.

Yet, that didn’t mean Marco didn’t love the thrill and excitement it brought him, especially when he did it so often in his younger days.

Extending his bright cyan blue wings out and around him, Marco palms himself through his pants, shutting his eyes before slightly lowering his pants enough to release his cock into the exposed cold air.

Marco shivers before reeling back and moving so he was laying down, his wings as support. One left propped up and his fingers wrapped itself around his shaft, his touch slow.

With nothing but the moon lighting down on him and the refreshing night breeze in the midnight sky, Marco felt at ease as he continues to rub his length in a teasingly slow motion, only increasing in speed seconds after.

Marco won’t lie, when it came to his release, he often did it into his hands and a bit dripping down onto his hips and chest,

but it felt good letting his cum spurt into the ocean.

-

Thatch

It’s pretty known that Thatch is a real perv with large sexual desires. ( at least to me because of @ honeybakedthatch lol ) however, this personal secret is his dirtiest one yet.

Thatch bit his lip as he grunted out a soft groan, feeling the rest of his warm, bitter cum shooting out from his tip and into the leftover mixture of cream and condensed milk he made for the cinnamon buns.

Pulling his pants up and zipping it tight, Thatch made sure to thoroughly mix the cum and mixture together with a plastic spoon before drizzling it over the cinnamon buns he left out just for you.

The plastered grin Thatch wore merely widens as he watched the ordinary looking cinnamon buns look identical to the others, but he knew the pleasant surprise in taste that differed.

Just as he finished drizzling the cream, the door opened, you having walked in. “Thatch, I smell something good! What is it?”

The cheery, innocent smile you had made Thatch smirk a bit, the imagination all too pleasant, the thought of you eating his delicious cinnamon buns.

“I made cinnamon buns. Here, I made these especially for you.” Thatch holds out the separate plate he had and walks closer to you, placing a sweet kiss on your temple before letting you take the plate and fork.

“Enjoy. If it’s a bit too bitter, let me know and I’ll.. sweeten it up for you.”

-

Mihawk

This stoic ass man is such an intimate, romanticist, he doesn’t quite have very dirty secrets.. but, one kink he secretly has is bondage and slight corruption. He won’t ever mention it but if you bring it up, he’ll voice his opinions on it.

“Now, now, love. You should be careful.”

Mihawk’s strict but amused tone was evident as he sat in his chair and watched you writhe in the tight black silk ribbons that bounded you on the ground.

Your arms were tied behind your back, your vision blocked by a silk blindfold and your legs were forced spread by a ankle bar, exposing your bare heat towards Mihawk.

You were leaning against a table/chair, and the only thing you could hear were Mihawk’s praises and warnings, along with the humming vibration that came from the vibrator strapped to your clit.

“You might loosen the binds, and you know you don’t want that, do you?” Mihawk sternly questions and you shook your head, biting your lip to prevent yourself from moaning out too loud.

“Oh? You aren’t responding?” Mihawk smiles slightly as he leans on his hand, elbow on the armrest of his chair. “I asked you a question.”

You gasp out in realization and stammered out, trying to close your legs from the shock and orgasm you keep receiving.

“I-I mean no.. h-hah.. ah.. I, I don’t want it to loosen.” Your blush darkens at the embarrassment you held, but you loved this, just as much as Mihawk did.

-

Shanks

I could come up with a bunch of things but the first thing my mind went to was — sex tapes. Shanks is all for EVERYTHING but I feel like sex tapes seal the deal. Especially since he hooks up with so many women, I’m sure.

Shanks watches as the woman below him arches her back and curls her toes in pure bliss and euphoria.

The loud moans escaping her lips and filling the motel rooms only edged him further.

His tight grip on the woman’s left thigh glides up to grab the soft mound flesh on her left, his fingers twisting the little perky bud as he thrusted his hips roughly into her, eliciting a louder pleasurable cry.

The sound of skin slapping was the only thing heard other than the heavy grunts of Shanks and the mewls of the woman being fucked into oblivion.

Shanks, despite having the time of his life and was nearing his climax as he continued to thrust into the two small and tight lips, it’s walls clenching around him, could only think about the recording camera on its designated position on top of the drawer.

As much as he loved the real experience at the current moment, he couldn’t wait to rewatch the recording of it and relive the experience that way.

-

A/N: here you go, hun! I know you wanted a part 2 with these characters and I hope this went out you expected and wanted! :>

A few don’t have proper endings but it’s gooddd enoughhh for me. :p

jus wondering, what do y’all think Kid has? Master, sir, daddy or captain kink? Or none and just his name?

Law def has a “doc/doctor” kink lol but since I’m at it, I don’t think Marco has that.

[sxfik]

Helloooo. Lemme start by saying how awesome fantastic amazing your fics are. I have a solhwi ask/prompt if it's not a problem. What would the study group's reaction be to established solhwi + bonus for prof kim and yangs reactions. Any headcanon or fic you can write about this please.

wicked love, leaves me blind

read on ao3 • masterlist

a/n: aaaa thank you so much for the kind words and the request! there's slight canon divergence in this and i decided on a more head canon format for this fic. this turned out kinda longer than expected but AAA my mind really ran with this prompt lmaooo. without much further adieu, i hope you like this <333

it's been 2 weeks since joon hwi confessed to her, running to her house in the middle of the night, panicked and afraid after the news of lee man ho hunting down professor yang

after the man had run from the scene, joon hwi was sure that he'd come back to his house, not afraid to hurt anyone on the way there. and in an instant, he started running, taking off towards her house without a second thought

by time he had reached her house, he was drenched in sweat, his heart thundering out of his chest in panic, in fear and in hope, that she was all right. he knocked frantically on the door of her house, hoping, praying that she was alright.

and to his relief, sol opened the door, her hair put up in the familiar messy bun. she yawned as she opened the door languidly, still wearing the hanguk law school sweatshirt he had once loaned her during a sleepless night of studying.

"han joon hwi? what are you doing here, it's lat-"

he lunged for her without a thought, gathering her in his arms and pressing her close to his body. she's alive, she's okay, chorused in his head as he shuddered out a breath of relief. she let out a soft oof but relaxed into him, her arms coming around his waist in a familiar way

he pulled away after what seemed like not long enough of a hug, and maybe it was the adrenaline, or the pure euphoria of finding her safe and in one piece that pushed him towards her lips, kissing her with fevor.

and after a shocked moment, she kissed him back, drinking him in, tugging him closer, desperate for more, more, more

and the rest was, well, history. it didn't take long after for the two of them to confess to each other, understanding that they needed each other in their life.

so it's been 2 weeks since han joon hwi confessed to her. really, they meant to keep their relationship secret. in the midst of their fight against assemblyman ko, the case against lee man ho and the mystery of what really happened the night of the hit-and-run case, they agreed that it was easier to keep it under wraps

after all, it was a new relationship to both of them. it wasn't like they hadn't dated other people, but what sol and joon hwi had was a carefully built friendship that was founded in trust and care for each other. and making it public, could only do them more damage as they become leverage against each other if their case goes south.

they only had one, very, very small, problem.

they were awful at keeping their hands off each other

alone time was very scarce for the both of them. with joon hwi being highly ranked, he was always pulled into every study session and every discussion in the school. not to mention, he had his own studies to maintain, alongside working at the legal clinic and helping professor yang with the mystery that had plagued the school.

kang sol's case was no different. she had to slave over her assignments, spending every spare moment at the school library, pouring over her text books. the moment not spent there was split between working to gather money for her mother and byeol, the legal clinic and assemblyman ko's case. not to mention her digging into kang dan's whereabouts as much as she could.

every single time they had together, there were too many people around for their tastes. during their busiest days, they had settled for subtle touches and stealing glances at each other whenever possible

so they spent their spare moments, huddled in the corridors, catching up on each other's days, making out and getting some time alone.

they'd make all kinds of excuses to leave early or walk each other to their dorm rooms, trying to maximize all their time with each other. every time they made to each other's rooms, they'd linger at the entrance, trying to see each other for just one more second.

and it was no wonder that when they first got caught, sol was pinned against the stairwell wall, joon hwi's lips buried in her neck. his fingers ghosted the hem of her shirt as she was pulled him closer to her and then...

clang!

the two broke apart, startled at the noise, their faces red. joon hwi's usual bangs were disheveled, sol's messy bun now loose and her hair cascading down her shoulders.

the two of them turned their head towards the noise only to find ye-beom and bok-gi, the latter's mouth gaping open like a fish. ye-beom on the other hand, stopped sucking on his lollypop, eyes wide as they looked at each other then looked back at the couple who were caught red handed.

bok-gi's hands were still frozen as the plate that fell from his hands lay at his feet and for what felt like eternity, there was absolute silence.

and then chaos.

"you two- when did you- how- what-" both of them started firing their questions rapid-fire.

the couple, who's faces were strawberry red, shushed them the best they could, looking around frantically to ensure no one else would here the commotion.

it took around 10 minutes for the boys to calm down, still reeling from what they witnessed

slowly, the couple explained that they were dating, and satisfying some of their curiosity before letting the boys go, with the stern warning of never repeating any of this information to anyone.

predictably, their whole study group knew about sol A and joon hwi the very next day.

of course, while ye-beom and bok-gi were huge gossips, they made sure the news didn't reach outside their sphere.

the next day, sol and joon hwi were the first ones to walk into the hideout, attempting to put up their "we're best friends! no relationship here!" facade up early, while the rest of the group quietly shuffled in.

they were good for the first 5 minutes (in reality they didn't last even 2 minutes) but joon hwi just can't keep his eyes off of her, especially when she's working through arguments for the case

the lovesick display lasts about... 10 minutes before Sol B stands up from her chair abruptly, causing everyone to jump in their seats.

as always, her face is neutral, but she spins to face ji ho, as the boy adjusted his glasses on his face so he could look up at her

"you own me 20 dollars" she simply stated at him, her hand outstretched

"what, no way i'm paying that" ji ho moved back, his face shocked that she even remembered

"you bet that they would take 3 months to confess, and i bet at 6 months— "

"it's been way longer than 6 months!"

"mine was closer"

"i think," ye-seul interjected as she took her seat at the table, heading back from her project work for professor kim's class, "that you both owe me 20 dollars. from what I remember, i bet that they would take longer!"

a chaotic clamber erupted as each member argued who owed who money, who bet on what,

"yah, ye-seul, how could you bet on me like that!" Sol interrupted the clamor, spinning to look at her best friend in shock and disbelief.

"sorry, unnie. it was too tempting of an offer for me to turn down" she replied, not looking the least bit apologetic.

joon hwi grinned at sol A as she looked around flabbergasted at their friends, before he grabbed her idle hand and held it up.

"just so we can fend off any confusion, sol is now my girlfriend. sorry we didn't get to tell you earlier, but to make up, we'll treat you to a dinner after all this mess is offered."

their group cheered at that, never being the one to turn down an offer for free food

it was bliss for the couple after that, and relief too. they could both agree that keeping a relationship under wraps was much harder than they could handle, with so much of this being new to them alongside the chaos of their lives

telling their friends took the pressure off, at least allowing themselves to indulge in each other without having to be extra careful of who was watching.

theirs was a blinding love. it was blinding bliss, it was peace.

bonus +1:

professor kim was a busy woman, but she always had the time for her students. taking the time to know each and every one of them was something she took pride in as a teacher.

but out of all her students, the study group lead by han joon hwi consisted of her favorite students that she taught. as a result of professor seo's unfortunate death and the reveal of everything that assemblyman ko had orchestrated, professor kim found herself around those kids more and more.

nevertheless, it was another day, another case to navigate at the legal clinic. it was a busy afternoon at hanguk law school, and professor kim's star students, sol and joon hwi huddled together trying to find the best way for the property case at hand

she had always had a soft spot for those two, ever since their class first semester when sol A blurted out a judgement and joon hwi, out of nowhere supported her. of all her years of teaching, she hadn't found a duo that was more hardworking, passionate and loyal than the two of them

Sol A was not her brightest student but she had tenacity and passion that more than made up for it. She could spot the hardworking girl, hunched over her textbooks hours after every other student had left.

Professor Kim had always found that some of the brightest students in her class would make for the worst in the field. because, being a lawyer wasn't about memorizing the codes or adhering to the rigid structure that many assumed the law to be. it was to offer kindness, compassion and understanding that they were humans first, before they could be judged by the law

and she knew that Sol A was one such girl who had that. She had watched as she defended Yang, even when the detectives and prosecutor were trying to close up the case and force him down as the perpetrator. even when joon hwi was accused, Sol stood by his side, pursing every route possible to prove his innocence. At every turn, she stood up for those who needed sympathy and kindness from the law; for those that the law would have hurt.

Joon Hwi was no different. the first time she saw him, she assumed him to be a cold, callous genius who had no time for anyone but himself. but oh, how wrong she was. Joon hwi was quiet the opposite. Even while being a generally reserved student, he had an inviting energy surrounding him that made every one like him, despite the intense competition at school

from the first day, it was clear he wasn't here for the marks or the validation of his teachers: it was passion and self motivation that drove him. it was clear that he was built to practice law, his mind was always sharp for legal terms and loopholes. but joon hwi always went the extra mile for his friends, always gave an extra hand to help, even when they didn't necessarily need it.

she could see it in him during Ye-Seul's case, eager to help her. she could see it when Ji Ho's father's suicide case came out, how eager he was to help and comfort his roommate.

but most of all, she could see it with Sol A. she wasn't sure when she had noticed their closeness, but she could see them walking the halls together, a smile spread across both their faces or them arguing across the table at the legal clinic, trying to work out the best method.

she could see it in the way Joon Hwi watched Sol, an almost lovesick smile on his face when she smiled or when she finally got the answers she was searching for. Professor Kim also knew, from her years of watching professor yang and prosecutor bae dance around each other, that it would be rare if they confessed to each other

so it was very odd when she looked across from her stack of papers to find joon hwi holding sol's hand as he flipped through the case file in front of him, both of them hyper focused into the details

maybe it was pure curiosity, maybe it was a taste for chaos that motivated her to call out "oh, are you two finally dating?" expecting their flustered and embarrassed reactions

but instead, she was met with a beaming smile from Joon Hwi that answered all the questions she had. Kang Sol on the other hand was left glaring and sputtering at her new boyfriend.

it was funny and gleeful, watching two of her favored students find a new life together, forging a new path.

and it was also pure relief for her, that she wouldn't have to deal with another professor yang and prosecutor bae situation

bonus +2:

the cold wind whipped around them as the couple accompanied professor yang back to campus. another night, another mystery, another trip to the police station to give witness statements

tonight was no different as the truth of the hit-and-run case started revealing itself, and the professor had accompanied the two students in silence, contemplative of all that has happened, the puzzle pieces slowly clicking together

professor yang was never meant to be a professor, in fact he hates the title itself. what he was meant for was to interrogate, to dig up clues and find out exactly who the culprit is and use the law to prove why they were guilty. for him, one's feelings did not matter, it was always about the evidence presented in front of him and how it could be interpreted.

it didn't mean he didn't care about his students, quite the opposite. it just meant that he wasn't the nurturing type as professor kim was. the one to always meddle in student affairs or keep track of how his students were doing outside of class

but with the two students walking beside him, they were the ones that he wanted to see succeed. they were the ones he was the most proud of as they presented their cases in public, finding their own ways to fight against injustice.

he was proud of them and in his heart, he knew it reminded him of a certain set of school mates, ones that were attached at the hip, a regret he has carried with him until he met her again on the court floor.

so maybe it was the deliriousness of all they had went through together or pure stupidity that made him pause in the tracks. his students continued on for a moment but then paused in their tracks, turning around to see what had stopped their professors.

"Kang Sol A." he nodded towards her.

"Han Joon Hwi." he nodded towards him.

"Congratulations on your new relationship"

he paused after, looking up at his students, both of them wide eyed that Professor Yang of all people, congratulated them on this.

and then, as if making it worse, he smiled.

Kang Sol's mouth dropped open, her hands reaching up to her eyes to rub them as if she was hallucinating what she saw.

Han Joon Hwi was incredulous, blurting out "Professor, have you been taking methamphetamines again?"

"Professor Yang has taken WHAT?" Sol whipped her head around, the sight of her professor expressing glee was already too much for her to handle but the news that he has taken meth just drove her head into overdrive.

the two were stuck in their positions, as their professor moved forward, brushing past them as if this event had never happened.

[blossom-hwa]

a little birdie told me to request surfer san at a party idk what that was about but i do kinda want to see skater boy yeosang there too if you're up for that 👀👀👀 heheheheh love u linaaaa <333

/chants/ surfer san surfer san SURFER SAN thank you very much mai for putting this in my inbox I adore you <3 skater yeosang will be up next so I hope you enjoy what I end up spitting out for that one too !

4 year anniversary drabble game: send me a Stray Kids/The Boyz/Golden Child/Ateez member + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!

Set in the same universe as Kickflip (My Heart) (skater!Yeosang) and Hey, Hey - Let Me Kiss You (surfer!Juyeon) :)

I’m gonna cry this ended up being way longer than I thought it’d be but you know what I’m 100% turning this into a full scenario so fuck it it’ll be as long as it has to be

~

Title: Truth or Dare

Pairing: San x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 2.2k

Triggers: cursing, alcohol, shirtless woosan for a hot minute, implications of sex towards the end (NOTHING GRAPHIC)

~

Okay, so in hindsight, maybe coming to Hongjoong's party knowing you were going to be here was a mistake. In his defense, the water probably wasn’t out of his ears when he told Wooyoung he would come, despite the latter having told him specifically you were going to be there. It probably caused some temporary brain damage. That, and San has never really made the best decision when it comes to crushes. 

Especially you. You’ve been the worst so far. Around all of the others, he’s been able to keep a measure of his confidence, able to flirt a little and initiate something here or there, if it’s reciprocated. But you...

You’re something else. Always have been, ever since Hongjoong introduced him to you in all your gorgeous glory. Which is probably why Wooyoung looked so surprised that San agreed to come without much trouble - he probably thought San would be chicken out immediately and he’d have to convince him. 

San’s here, though, several drinks in and very much buzzed if not drunk, sitting in a circle of people that includes you. Even five or six drunk adults away, San can feel his face heating up when you look in his direction and throw him a wink with that gorgeous smile spread across your face. 

His heart thumps a little faster.

“You look like an idiot,” Wooyoung hisses, jabbing him in the side. “What did I tell you about playing hard to get?”

San rolls his eyes. “Since when did your advice ever make enough sense for me to take it?”

Wooyoung huffs. “You look like a lovesick idiot,” he sniffs. 

San doesn’t deign to reply. 

“Okay, okay.” Hongjoong comes back from wherever he was and settles between Seonghwa and Mingi, a bottle in hand. “Shut up, everyone. We’re playing truth or dare.”

Someone raises an eyebrow. “What is this, high school?”

“The way you all act, I wouldn’t be surprised.” San stifles a laugh at your reply. 

“Says you.” Hongjoong snorts. 

You grin. “Did I ever exclude myself?”

Everyone breaks into laughter that Hongjoong has to calm before setting the bottle in the middle of the circle. “Rules are the same. Spin the bottle, if it lands on you, pick truth or dare. If you chicken out, take a shot.” He raises an eyebrow. “Got it?”

They all get it, even the ones who look a little like they’re on the way to passing out, and so truth or dare begins. 

It’s fun. That might just be because San has been drinking, but when Seonghwa is dared for the second time to write some gross in the air with his butt, he and Wooyoung are falling over each other with tipsy laughter. Hiccuping with giggles, San answers a question about who in this room he’d lick peanut butter off of - “Hongjoong, I like his body.” - and then takes off his shirt for five turns and keeps it off because it’s kind of hot, anyway, and he doesn’t really want to bother putting it back on. Wooyoung isn’t much better - he got dared to take off his pants but Seonghwa forced Yunho to amend it to his shirt, and San pats his friend’s pecs affectionately before the next person goes. 

Eventually, the bottle lands on you. You raise an eyebrow. “Truth.”

“Is there someone you like in this room?” Mingi blurts. 

There’s a chorus of groans, complaints of ‘Okay, this is too high school for me,’ and ‘For real, Mingi? Seriously?’, but San’s attention is on you and the way your expression has turned slightly uncertain for the first time tonight. You bite your lip, staring at the shot glass in your hand like you’re really contemplating chickening out, but then your eyes flicker up and in his direction. 

San’s breath catches in his throat. You didn’t look at him. You definitely didn’t. That was just coincidence. Don’t get your hopes up, San. 

“Alright, alright, shut up.” You raise your voice above the noise of people teasing Mingi. “The answer is yes. I do.”

The complaints turn into oooooohs and wolf whistles and ‘Who is it? Who is it?’ but you’ve already got the bottle in hand and are spinning it in the center of the circle. San barely notices, even when Wooyoung’s hand squeeze his knee - who is the person that you like? There’s like fifteen or twenty people here. It could be any one of them. It’s probably Yeosang. He’s pretty and everyone has had a crush on him at least once. Or Seonghwa? Maybe even Wooyoung?

Cheers erupt all around him and San looks up, startled, to see you glaring at the bottle like it personally wronged you in a past life. 

Because it’s pointing at you again. 

“Truth or dare, Y/N?” someone yells. 

Next to you, Yeosang whispers something in your ear. Your eyes widen. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, but I would.” Yeosang grins. 

You glare at the bottle some more. “Dare.”

“Everyone shut up, I’ve got this.” San watches in confused silence as Yeosang sits up. “Y/N...” A grin that looks more suited to Wooyoung spreads across his lips. “I dare you to kiss the prettiest person in this room.” 

San’s heart drops with every second that passes. He wants it to be him, badly wants it to be him, but in a room full of people who look like Seonghwa, who look like Dahyun, who look like Juyeon and Chaeyoung and Yeosang and - god, San can’t even list all of the names - 

How would it ever be him?

You make a very rude gesture to Yeosang that has everyone cracking up, but you don’t eye the shot glass this time. Instead, you throw your shoulders back and let your eyes rake over the room. 

“Wooyoung.”

San’s heart drops. Of course it’s Wooyoung, his best friend in every life, one of the prettiest people San himself has ever laid eyes on -

“Move over.” Suddenly, you’re up in San’s face, pushing Wooyoung away. He blinks. When did you come all the way over here? But he doesn’t even have time to ponder the answer to that question because your smile is so close, now, just half a foot separating your lips, and you’re reaching out a hand to cup his cheek and San is short-circuiting as you say -

“Stop me if you don’t want this, okay?”

San blinks. Don’t want what? His heart is beating so fast, faster even than when he catches the highest wave of the afternoon, you’re so close and this is all he’s ever wanted, why would you even imply that this is something he doesn’t want - 

Your lips press against his, and San’s mind goes blank. 

You’re kissing him. You’re kissing him. You’re kissing him because you think he’s the prettiest person in the room - he, San, Choi San, surfer boy who turned into a mess the day Hongjoong introduced him to you - you think he, of all people in the room, is the prettiest -

It occurs to him that he’s still shirtless. He doesn’t exactly know what to do with that information. 

You pull away and San gasps for breath, eyes staring wide into yours. You smile at him softly, lips slightly swollen with the kiss, and like he’s underwater, San can kind of hear everyone screaming and whistling and whatever in the background, but when you speak, suddenly, everything is crystal clear. 

“Was that okay?” you whisper. 

Yes. Yes. Oh, God, yes - San nods once, twice, three times and then blushes when your smile grows wider and the sparkle he likes so much turns brighter in your eye. 

Nothing he’s ever seen could be more beautiful than you right now, eyes sparkling and lips smiling under the dim lights of the party, pulling him forward for a second kiss.

. . .

The rest of the night passes in a blur. Truth or dare ends, San takes another couple of shots, and you’re somehow by his side the entire time until the party’s over. Both of you stay behind to help clean up a bit, but at around two, Seonghwa shoos the rest of you home, and Wooyoung meets up with San by the door to walk back to the apartment. 

“Move it, Woo.” You appear again, shoving Wooyoung out of the way. “I’m sure San won’t mind if I walk him home instead.”

A horrible grin splits Wooyoung’s features and he nods quickly, giving San a very unsubtle wink made worse by the fact that he drank way more than San did after the game. “Sannie, do you mind?” he asks. Then, not waiting for an answer, he loops an arm through Yeosang’s, who looks very confused. “I’ll see you at home! Or not!”

You and San walk out of the house in silence, mostly because San has too many thoughts at the moment and they’re all jumbling up into one big mess. The euphoria from kissing you earlier has worn off slightly as the alcohol left his system - he’s mostly sober now - which means he’s thinking. Too much. 

“San.” You look over at him, a streetlamp lighting your face. “Come on, I won’t bite.” You smile. “If you have something to ask me, you can say it.”

He blinks. Blinks again. Then, as though your words unleashed a flood in his brain, he asks - 

“Did you really think I was the prettiest person in the room?”

You stare at him, eyes narrowed and surprisingly lucid given how the party went. “Yes, I did. I still do.”

Oh. Oh, okay. San feels a little like he needs to sit down. So the kiss wasn’t just a one time thing - you’d do it again, probably, if he’s interpreting your words correctly - 

“Why?”

This time, you look a little incredulous when the word leaves his mouth. Then you shake your head. “You really don’t think you’re beautiful, do you.” It isn’t a question. 

San ducks his head. For all his usual surfer bravado, the confident face and smile he presents when he’s about to hit the waves, he can’t seem to find the courage to look at you in this moment, to let you really see everything brewing behind his eyes. 

Fingers settle under his chin and tip it up so that he’s looking at you again. “I don’t bite, San,” you remind him again, still smiling. “I happen to think you’re very pretty. Beautiful. And even though I still want to slap Yeosang over the head, I’m very glad he gave me the opportunity to show that tonight.” Your fingers walk upwards to cup his cheek the same way you did when you kissed him. “In case you were wondering, by the way, you were the one I was talking about when I said I liked someone. And I didn’t only kiss you just because you were shirtless.”

A small smile settles on San’s face. It’s strange, the way you seem to be able to read his mind without him saying anything, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it. “I like you too.”

“I know. It was a little obvious.” You laugh when San whines, going red under your touch. “I wanted to say something before, kind of ever since I saw you in that wetsuit when Hongjoong introduced us, but it felt like I’d scare you away.” You raise an eyebrow. “Am I scaring you away now?”

Are you scaring him? A little, kind of, but not in a bad way. It’s more like you thrill him, make his heart race faster and faster the longer your fingers linger on his skin. You’re not scaring him away. If anything, you’re scaring him towards you - it’s weird, but that’s the only way San can describe it. He shakes his head. “No.”

“Good.” You grin. “Because if I was scaring you, you probably wouldn’t want to kiss me, and right now I really want to kiss you again.”

Your lips meet once, twice, three times under the dull glare of the lamp on the empty street, San’s arms settling around your waist, your hands coming up to wrap around his neck. When you break away after the third kiss, eyes hooded and lips swollen enough to make San’s mouth go dry, a soft glint appears in your expression. “Want to come home with me?” you ask. “My roommate’s out of town.” San follows the movement of your eyelashes as you blink. It’s captivating. “Feel free to say no. I won't take offense.” 

If it were anyone else, San doesn’t know if he’d believe them. He might stop it here politely, even tipsy as he is, and ask to just go back to his place instead. But he trusts you. Has trusted you from the day he met you. Because nothing in your words or your face ever seems to mask a lie, and besides, his fingers are itching to find their way up your shirt and somewhere else as he kisses you again and again -

He kisses you, laughing against your lips. “I guess I should let Wooyoung know I’m not coming back tonight.”

“Oh, he’ll get the message even if you don’t say anything.” Your grin is brighter than the stars. “Come on, pretty boy.” You kiss him again. “Let me show you how beautiful I think you are.”

[siminnmsis]

I’m three ounces of whoop-ass ! (Arthur x Mc)

Summary : it’s mc’s first night in the mansion and she decide to fight a particularly clever and pushy vampire using sheer panic and bad ideas.

Pairing : Arthur Conan Doyle x Mc.

note: just something quick inspired by the Arthur’s route lol I’m not writing as much as I want so leave a request if you feel like it and I’ll give it a shot!

Running, running, running.

Faster, faster, FASTER !

My footsteps and heavy breath were both echoing loudly in the empty hallway but I couldn’t care less, I had to get out of here as soon as possibe, I had to get out before the other vampires decide to chase me too, I had-

Ouch…

My heartbeat sounded so loud in my ear it took me a few minutes to regain my concentration, and when I did I wished that I would wake up to this whole thing being but a nightmare.

He caught me…unlucky me…

“by Jove, you departed as fast as a preyed rabbit, I must admit I’m impressed”

I could not even think of praying anymore, a miracle is what I needed to get me out of here. The wall against my back and his hands on my shoulders blocked every chance I had to escape; his inhuman strength only added to all the red flags appearing in my mind.

“well now little rabbit, now that the big bad wolf caught you, how will you save yourself?”

I swallowed dryly, terrified by his presence and weirdly hooked by his deep blue eyes; the heat of his body so close to mine only added to my nervousness while my ideas got foggier by the minute.

“…I…need to go.”

“Sure thing you do! How so? Now that I got you under me I’m curious to know how you’ll do”

The smirk that took over his face and his voice made him even more irritating if possible. He raised a gloved hand to brush the hair away from my shoulder, the light contact of skin against leather send shiver down my spine and as he leaned down closer to my ear I felt his breath tickle my neck, if I wasn’t absolutely tetanised of fear I would have fell to my knees.

“Now”, he said “to escape the wolf, a rabbit should learn how to howl”

Before I could bring myself to answer him, his teeth pierced my skin.

An overwhelming heat took over my body and for a minute, I thought I was burning up from the inside, but the heat left as fast as it and was replaced by a pleasant warmth and an intoxicating feeling of euphoria.

I…need…to leave…

As my body started to get accustomed to the debilitating feeling taking over me, my idea became clearer little by little.

How can a rabbit howl….he can’t….he can only pretend…

But that maybe enough for the wolf to think twice before eating him…

Maybe it was the fear, the panic clouding my judgement, or maybe even a last push of my survival instinct but before I could think about how bad of an idea it was my face was heading to the crook of his neck.

“Fair’s fair”, I thought, and I bit him as hard as I could.

The least I could say is that it threw him off considering the scream he just let out and the way he hurriedly stepped away from me. He looked at me while holding his neck, I looked at him while holding mine, and we both seemed as confused with my sudden outburst. A painfully long silence lingered before he broke it by absolutely losing it and laughing out loud. The least I could say I felt ridiculous at that moment especially since I put in quit a show but totally forgot to run away when I had the chance.

“Did you just…bite me?” he asked, incredulous but still laughing.

Am I supposed to say “yes”?!

“I…” for heaven’s sake, say something!

“MC? Sir Arthur? There you are, I finally found you”

“Sebas, old lad, don’t worry about us” Arthur said, straightening his back and walking back to the kitchen “I will quench my thirst and head to bed, good night!” and just like that, with that sing-song tone he disappeared.

“What happened?” Sebastian asked.

“I have…absolutely no idea” I answered.

[ssscentral]

One More Time

Summary: Your touch was addictive, your scent intoxicating. He wants that back so badly, but he needs another chance. Just one more time.

pairing: Seokjin x female reader

rating: GA

genre: angst, mild fluff

warnings: pining, heartbreak, only mentions of sex, but everything very sfw

wc: 3k

member: Rid || @taegularities​

a/n: Hello! Back with the second fic in the Bouquet Collab series. Each one of us chose a flower and wrote a fanfic around the meaning of it! These were just 2 out of 6, so please look forward to many more awesome stories! I also want to thank my amazing betas @biaswreckme and @missgeniality, and further @birbdae for this wonderful banner!!!! 💕 And now let’s dive into the angst!

A single ray of sunshine illuminates the room.

Conveniently, it shines directly onto that one particular plant that stands in this whole apartment, still healthy and green as it refuses to die. Seokjin is fond of it, given the fact that it was you who had gifted him it many weeks ago.

You always used to say that his place is gloomy, grey, in urgent need of redecoration, so he could actually invite someone over and make them feel somewhat homely. After he’d declined all your offers due to laziness, you’d given up - except for the little present that you’d brought him that one significant day.

He remembers it so vividly, the memory still so painfully clear.

At that time, spring was just approaching, birds returning and beautiful flowers blooming. You were a sucker for nature and all its aspects - which was probably the exact reason for the distaste that you felt whenever you entered your friend’s apartment. His way of handling his place was dull, tasteless.

So, when you decided to surprise him with the odd choice of giving him an aloe plant as decoration and present, you weren’t expecting more than a pleasant evening that you’d spend together.

What you didn’t know was that he’d been a nervous wreck for days now, ripping out several strands of his hair before he’d finally decided to tell you the truth about what he caged in his mind. But when he saw you that day, wearing this beautiful sunflower dress, your hair in a bun with only two strands framing your angelic face, words failed him immediately.

Instead, he froze, eyebrows furrowing in fear of what you’d say or do if he confessed to you. And it didn’t take a lot from your side, no - one brush of your finger along his arm, an intense and loving gaze addressing only him, and a beautiful, mesmerizing smile were enough for him to snap before he pulled you in.

When you first felt his full lips on yours, you stared at the way his eyes closed, relishing in and welcoming the moment right away. You needed a second to comprehend what was happening, but once you understood, you felt yourself give in fast, the world becoming blurred and silent.

All you heard were the sweet words he uttered, all you saw was his glistening skin, and all you knew was that you wanted to bathe in this euphoria forever without ever having to let go.

But when you both found yourselves in each other’s arms, covered by nothing but his blanket, you still hadn’t addressed why this had happened and what it meant for you now.

Seokjin didn’t regret this - how could he, if it was with you? But the same old insecurity that plagued his heart and made his chest burn had eventually come back now. Despite having no real evidence or reason, he assumed that you didn’t want what he wanted - you’d never see him as more than a friend that you’d slept with in the heat of the moment.

In that sense, you’d woken up to a pressing awkwardness, him offering breakfast and coffee, but portraying distant nonchalance otherwise. And when you felt like none of this was going to go anywhere, you told him you had to go, finding some kind of excuse to leave.

Since then, an uncomfortable radio silence had found its way between you, and the only thing he had these days to remember you was the pink-orange flower that slowly bloomed on top of his desk.

Lying across the bed, Seokjin opens his eyes with a smile on his face, remembering how he’d looked at you in confusion when he’d first seen you standing at the threshold of his entry, smiling wide with Ally in your hands. Yes, you’d named the plant Ally - always one to give non-living things names.

Wrong.

Ally is very much alive. You’d made that clear that day. Plants take in carbon dioxide and release oxygen - yes, that’s what you’d lectured him with when he’d joked around. His apartment needs some freshness, you’d told him.

Now that he’s inhaling the air around him, it almost feels like he can smell Ally, which is total nonsense of course. He has honestly grown to love this small, spiky thing, especially after finding out the meaning behind it.

Affection.

Something he has felt for a long time now. Affection for the way you scrunch up your nose when you’re annoyed. Affection for the concentrated gaze you adopt when you’re reading a good book. Affection for your words, for the sound of your voice; he loves the sweet, honey-coated, soft tone that he swims in every time you speak.

Seokjin gets up, stretching his limbs and getting dressed when he looks at the clock, noticing that it’s time to go. There’s this boring gathering this evening, organized by some of your colleagues who thought it might be a good idea to come together and strengthen your bond as a student body or whatever.

The only reason he’s going is because he knows you’ll be there. He doesn’t care about getting himself drunk or talking about philosophical theories today - all he wants is to make right what he ruined back then. He just needs to tell you what words float inside his heart, hoping for you to reciprocate his feelings the way you’d responded to his kiss that night.

Gathering all this ardor for you, with only your name on his tongue, he closes his door behind him, summoning all the energy his body can deliver.

You’re easy to find in the small crowd. The room isn’t too filled, the atmosphere peaceful and pleasant when he steps in, running his hand through his soft, brown hair when he sees you. Breathing in and out in a steady rhythm, he approaches you, trying to mask his eagerness, hands pocketed to exude a relaxed demeanor.

When you finally notice the tall figure come closer, recognizing him as none other than the man you’re so in love with, your heart beats just a little faster and you tilt your head in wonder. After barely sparing you a glance in your classes, he has apparently finally decided to give you some attention.

Memories come crashing back; images of your last encounter flooding your mind as you press your tinted lips together, still feeling the phantom touch of his mouth on yours. He still looks the same, but his hair has gotten a little longer, almost covering his eyes entirely before he brushes the bangs away.

“Hey,” he greets, breathing in deep as he sits down in front of you, “long time no talk.”

You nearly counter with a sarcastic remark, but then contain yourself, only shooting him a breathtaking smile. “You’re right. Busy lives. How have you been doing, Jin?”

“Good!” he answers way too fast, clearing his voice before he continues. “I’m doing good. And you?”

“All good. Been writing some more lately.”

Seokjin nods as his eyes widen and his mouth forms an ‘O’, glad to hear that you’ve picked up your hobby of creating beautiful poetry again. He’s even read some of your poems, and you’re truly talented, working around words so easily as if they were his own heart.

“Oh, wow! I- um… I took care of Ally. Do you remember her?” he stumbles over his words, ears growing increasingly red. He’s such a dork and you can’t help but smile a little.

“That’s nice to hear. I bought one of these myself a few days ago. Reminded me of you.”

“That’s great! T-that’s…” What is he trying to say? There must be something that he had prepared, but for the life of his, he can’t remember anymore. All he knows at the sight of you is that he wants to grab you by your waist again, pull you in to press you against him. He wants to feel your lips, move against them in soft, then needy motions.

He just wants you as a whole, if not forever, then once.

Just one more time.

And when he sees you wait for him to speak, fumbling with your fingers with your eyes far away from his, he whispers the word “courage” to himself once before his hand reaches out to grab yours and settle on your palm.

Your gaze shifts to him immediately, his abrupt action causing confusion in you as your heart rate spikes up. But when you see the expression on his face, you feel like you know.

“Y/N, I- we… we need to talk,” he finally declares, his thumb gently ghosting over the skin of your hand, such a simple gesture sending shivers down your spine.

Yes, he doesn’t have to say much. You know what he wants to talk about; after all, there aren’t that many possibilities of what he could want at your first encounter after being somewhat estranged all this time.

“I’m not sure I want-”

“No, please,” he interrupts, squeezing your hand tighter in his. A few weeks ago, his warmth would’ve felt like a safe haven for you, pulling you out from the dark grounds of an ocean if it needed to - but right now, you feel like you’re drowning, like you’re sinking instead of swimming up. “There’s so much I’ve been wanting to tell you and there were so little opportunities to do so.”

Half-fearing, half-anticipating what he’s going to say, you search for the walls you’ve managed to pull up, accepting that Seokjin will never want you in that way. You think you’ve moved on, but now that he’s so close, on the brink of either confessing or rejecting you, you feel tense - and both options aren’t ideal for you right now.

You wait until he’s ready to talk, watch his chest rise and then fall, his eyes meeting yours, but looking like they’d rather not before-

“I’m in love with you,” he finally breathes - and as he mutters his last word, the air around you becomes suffocating, the sounds muffled and his touch heavy.

Is that better than being rejected? You don’t know. You really do not know; and the shake of your head and furrow of your eyebrows show him that something is plaguing you that he might not want to hear.

“Y/N.” His tone is calm, steady, different from your hazardous heart that’s breaking right in front of him, and he doesn’t even see it.

“Why did you not tell me that back then, Jin?” you inquire, pulling your hand away and settling it on your lap. “We slept together. Why did you let me go?”

This… this is awkward. It’s ridiculous. Seokjin shouldn’t have decided to talk about this in a crowd, surrounded by people who know nothing about what���s going on between you two. But now that he did, his heart sinks, his mind in a painful fog, and he puffs out some air, calming himself.

“Let’s leave,” he suddenly suggests, and you think you can see the faintest glint of panic in his dark eyes, “clear it out somewhere else. At my place?”

Again, you shake your head, chuckling lightly but not decently. “I can’t. I’m sorry, I can’t. There’s someone…”

Jin is quick to cut you once again, his breathing suddenly erratic. He’s been in love with you for years - no, he can’t take the thought of you having a boyfriend now, choosing someone over him. “Someone else? This fast? Y/N, why did I never-”

He stops mid-sentence, and it happens just timely as you were going to hold out a hand to silence him anyway.

“Jin. Listen,” you start, leaning in closer, “there’s someone who offered to guide me through a scholarship. Not here - in a different city. And as much as I’ve always wanted you, I can’t do long-distance relationships.”

Your words ease the pain inside him, his mind suddenly relaxing as he takes in your confession. You want him. You’ve always wanted him. Is all of this real?

“Where- where are you going?”

“It’s too far away. I wouldn’t see you more than a handful of times a year. I can’t do this,” you admit, your eyes stinging as you swallow the lump in your throat.

You see him tilt his head with a sigh, and you’re on the verge of breaking when you see his mouth twitch, that familiar movement that mostly means despair. This always happens when his grades are worse than he expects. It happens when he talks to his little brother who lives miles away. Mostly, you see it when you watch - or used to watch - movies together, especially Pixar and Ghibli ones tearing him up in no time.

And now, it’s happening because of you.

“Is there no way for you to stay?”

You bite your lip, chewing on it until you taste your lipstick. “I don’t think so. And it’s… a big chance for me.”

Seokjin’s jaw clenches and he nods, relief turning into sorrow as his expression shows understanding on the surface while his blood is boiling with pain on the inside. He’s angry with himself - he truly is. But he’s also sad about the fact that you never approached him.

And while waiting for the other in silence, phones in your hands, but the courage to message each other so far away, you missed it. You both missed it and he hates it.

“Then I hope you’ll get everything you want, Y/N,” he finally says, standing up as he grabs his thin jacket. It’s probably not that fresh outside yet, he can carry it - maybe hide his fumbling hands that clearly show his nervosity and distaste to this whole situation.

All he can think of is to get away before he breaks.

Yet, he comes closer to you, hovering above you before he leans down. Not caring about your surroundings, only seeing you, his heart only beating for you, he presses his lips onto your forehead first, wanders to your nose, both your cheeks and your earlobes as he says in between each kiss, “whenever… you decide… to come back… I’ll be here…”

Then, he cups your face, looking at your beautiful, full lips, missing how they feel on his before he kisses you gently. His mouth moves delicately, sweetly against yours, bittersweet memories and feelings streaming back as you internally forbid yourself to cry.

“Waiting for you,” he finally whispers, lips brushing yours, and every fiber in you tries hard to hold back. To not pull him into another room, kiss him more fiercely and bring back the fervent heat that you’d indulged in the last time.

His thumb brushes your cheeks softly, his eyes registering you gulping hard as he says his goodbyes, so he can leave. There’s just no way he can stay here any longer. “Don’t cry. I’ll be here, sweetheart.”

And then, his warmth is gone.

Fighting the urge to follow him, you watch him walk away, mind going crazy as you see him face the ground. You can’t falter. You need to focus on your studies before anything else - you don’t want to regret your choices; and if what he says holds true, you might just be able to wrap him into you forever when you come back in a year or two.

Maybe it’s not over yet.

The sun has set by the time Seokjin arrives home. All the sunshine from today morning has vanished, warming someone else, somewhere else now, leaving him in the dark as he lets himself fall on his bed.

An absolute disaster, all of this. And what an idiot he is. Why did he not insist on inviting you over? Ask you if there was any way you’d spend this one last night with him? The lingering feelings of your soft lips strengthen his despair tenfold, and he hates himself for not fighting for a night or a day with you. After all, you’re not going away just yet.

But deep down he knows why he did what he did: being together again would just hurt you both further, the small flame that both of your pain is becoming a searing wildfire. At least he knows for sure that this is what would happen to him. He knows it’d be near impossible to let you go if he woke up beside you.

What if Seokjin searches for scholarships, too? Your grades are similar - if you can get one, why not him? The picture of having you around, falling asleep next to you, studying together and bantering over food and movies - it’s so intriguing that he knows what he’ll search up tomorrow. 

Then again, you have your people; he doesn’t know anyone who can guide him through this, give him a fast opportunity to study somewhere else, be near you.

He doesn’t know. Not how to get you back, not how to feel you again; his brain comes up with nothing helpful, no plan he can actually execute successfully.

Slipping out of his pants, he lingers at the corner of the bed, his arms leaning on his thighs as his fingers tangle between them. Seokjin shakes his head as he physically feels his heart break, each broken piece fighting the other and torturing him, no matter how much he tells them to calm down.

And despite not knowing what to do, what to feel, how to erase the image of you and your face from his mind for the time being, he remembers something else.

When he’d looked for the meaning of the aloe plant, he had found many sources, some beautiful descriptions, and some poetic definitions that connected it to an emotional feeling. While the flower holds the meaning of affection, the memory of another word comes flooding in, ironic to the fact that aloe is supposed to heal, used to mend injuries and pain.

And thinking of this particular word, all he does know at this agonizing moment is that he identifies with your plant’s meaning.

He knows that all he feels is grief.

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[svenotes]

drabble #1

❝ the one where your one night stand turns out to be your boss ❞

[ PAIRING ] : jeon jungkook x reader | bff!hoseok x reader

[ GENRE ] : office au (not the tv show lol) + crack, smut (mentioned)

[ WORD COUNT ] : 1.7k

[ WARNINGS ] : mentions of sex, a lot of banter, jungkook only appears for like two seconds so this is more best friend!hoseok and oc bickering 

[ AUTHOR’S NOTE ] : i’m trying to get back into writing, so here’s some funny banter w plot

drabbles | masterlist | wattpad cross post | ao3 cross post

“Besides, when have—!”

“No.”

Hoseok frowns, eyes narrowing on you. “You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

Going through your mental checklist, you neatly place the documents in your hands on your boss’s desk. Today has been a hectic day at the office. It was a miracle that you even managed to finish everything by the end of your shift. On days where you can barely tell the difference between left and right, you found yourself clocking extra hours. You suppose you have Hoseok to thank for that. By some grace of God, he was assigned on the same project as you and as annoying as your friend could be, he also knew when to keep things professional.

He’s already set to leave for the day, waiting for you to finish up. Since the days are getting shorter, he’s made the habit of walking you to your car after work. He stares at you with a dubious look in his eyes, and you hold it for a moment before you walk towards your cubicle to pick up your keys.

“I know you,” you start, grabbing your purse and keys. “I know what you’re going to say because I know you.”

Hoseok scoffs at that, crossing his arms over his chest. A part of you hopes he stops his questioning and drops the topic altogether. However, you know Hoseok. Dropping a subject isn’t his specialty, even if the world demands that he should.

As you try to leave your office, Hoseok blocks your path. “Y/N.”

You keep a straight face. “Hoseok.”

“I am your best friend—!”

“Debatable.”

He ignores you and continues, “And I love you—!”

“Also debatable,” you murmur.

“—which is why I cannot for the life me understand why you would keep secrets about your sex life from me.”

He catches the attention of a few of your co-workers. You brush them off with a smile, wishing them good-night before you pull Hoseok inside an empty office by his loosened tie. He lets out a choked cough as you drag him in and shut the door behind him, keeping your conversation away from prying ears.

“Are you trying to kill me?” Hoseok hisses, rubbing his neck. “I just want some details about the new guy you’re screwing. How’d you meet? How long has this been going on? Why was I never informed you were dating someone?”

You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. “For the millionth time, I am not dating anyone. And there’s nothing to know—!”

“You’re lying! Again!” He points a finger in your face. “You left the bar with someone on the night of Ellie’s birthday and you’ve been secretive ever since.” He narrows his eyes. “Who are you hiding?”

You swat his fingers away, brows furrowed. “I’m an open book. I have nothing to hide.”

“Bullshit. You're as open as Yoongi.”

“How is Yoongi?” You ask, not-so-subtly deflecting. “It's been a while since I’ve seen him. You need to stop keeping him all to yourself. I miss my ex-roommate.”

Hoseok and you have known each other for as long as you’ve been working for the company. He sat in the cubicle beside yours and over time you became good friends. Yoongi, your roommate at the time, stopped by the office to drop off some lunch and met Hoseok before you could introduce them.

At first, the two despised each other, their personalities crashing — Hoseok too bright, and carefree and Yoongi more mellow and conserved. However, things began to shift between them over time and now Hoseok walks around with a ring in his jacket pocket at all times.

Hoseok’s cheeks dust pink. “I haven't proposed yet if that's what you're wondering.”

“Just let me know who’s best man I’m going to be,” you laugh.

“None of ours, ‘cause I’m going to ban you from the wedding—!”

Your eyes widen, appalled. “Why—!”

“Who are you dating?”

Your mouth clasps shut, glaring at him. “No one.”

It’s not a lie, Jungkook and you are not dating. Your relationship with him was far from romantic. However, Hoseok doesn’t know that and you’re not sure how you're supposed to tell him. Especially when it seems as though your past is trying to relive itself in the form of another man. You worked hard to move on from when you fell in love with your co-worker — you’ve worked so hard to put the past behind you and keep your professional life separate from your personal. Yet, it’s as if all of that hangs by a thread, threatening to slip through your fingers because history is trying to repeat itself.

How were you supposed to know your kind-of one-night stand was the youngest heir of Jeon Enterprises? You wouldn’t have dared to take a bite of the forbidden fruit if you knew.

A headache forms at the very thought of Hoseok’s lecture once you explain to him you unintentionally fucked your boss. It’s why you’ve been avoiding him and deflecting his questions throughout the day. You sigh, meeting his eyes.

What Hoseok doesn’t know cannot hurt him, right?

His eyes narrow on you, mouth opening for a rebuttal, but the knock on the door silences him. Your attention turns towards the door and you forget to breathe at the sight of the man at the door.

Jungkook's eyes immediately find yours, a small smile tugging on his lips. He looks sweet — innocent, even. Nothing like the man who feasts on you like fine cuisine. Your breath gets caught in your throat when you vividly remember the sinful things he can do with those lips — that mouth. You push the thoughts to the side, mirroring his smile despite the rapid pace of your heartbeat.

“Mr. Jeon,” Hoseok speaks first, clearing his throat.

Jungkook's eyes widen a fraction as he finds Hoseok standing a few feet from you, mirroring the shocked expression you wore moments ago. As if he didn’t even notice Hoseok’s presence.

“Please, call me Jungkook,” he starts, sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. “There’s no need for formalities.”

Hoseok simply nods. “Right. Jungkook.”

“I — uh,” you clear your throat, ignoring the heat that rises to your cheeks as Hoseok's scrutinizing gaze flickers between the two of you. “Did you need anything?”

“Ah,” Jungkook’s eyes flicker towards Hoseok. “Nothing in particular. I was going around trying to get to know the team better. You just seemed preoccupied earlier and I didn’t want to disturb you, so I thought I’d catch you now.”

“Oh,” you say, stupidly.

“We were was just about to head home,” Hoseok adds, glancing between the two of you. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

"I see,” Jungkook hums and his lips curl into a frown momentarily. “It was nice meeting you today. I look forward to working with you both.”

You hold his gaze for a moment before you respond, “Yea, likewise.”

“Me too,” Hoseok deadpans.

Swallowing, you ignore the look Hoseok sends you. It’s clear, he knows; he's put the pieces together. You will the heat in the apples of your cheeks to dissipate as you keep your composure.

“Goodnight.” Jungkook nods at Hoseok before returning his attention to you. “I’ll see you later.”

“Night.”

As he leaves, his gaze lingers on you for a second too long before he walks away. You let out a breath of air you didn’t realize you were holding, hand resting against your thundering heart. Hoseok waits for the door to shut and for Jungkook to round the corner before—!

“I’m not going to lie,” he begins, leaning against the desk, “that was painful to watch.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re fucking him.” It wasn't a question.

“We slept together a few times,” you sigh, pressing your fingers against your temple. “He said he worked at his father’s company, but I didn’t know his father was CEO of Jeon Enterprises. It didn’t even piece together that he was the Jungkook our team manager was talking about until I saw him this morning.”

He lets your words sink in, humming as he studies you. “He was totally gonna ask to fuck you tonight.”

“Shut up.” You throw your keys at him, but he catches it with ease. “We’re… supposed to meet tonight.”

He raises a brow. “To fuck?”

“Mhm.”

You’re supposed to meet tonight for a date, but Hoseok already knows too much. Telling him you decided to humour Jungkook for a date will only worsen your headache. Mainly because Hoseok will tell you the only reason you’re humouring him is since you like him.

Only two weeks have passed since you first met and look at the mess it’s already created. What should’ve been strictly a fuck-buddy relationship has turned for the worst.

“You probably shouldn’t.”

“I know.” You slouch, defeated as you lean against the desk beside him. “I know.”

“Wow — wait.” Hoseok’s shock turns into a frown. “You bailed on me Sunday night for mediocre dick, didn’t you?”

“Not mediocre dick,” you sigh, reminiscing the last time you went over. Although, it doesn’t last for long — “Ow! Hoseok, what the fuck?”

“That's for bailing on me,” he snorts before flicking your forehead again. “And that was for telling me his dick game is good.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, but that doesn’t stop the rush of memories from last weekend. Limbs entangled between sheets, hands grazing every inch of your bodies and lips twined with yours. Your body still remembers the comfort of his warmth as he brought you to euphoria over and over again. A mere memory makes your knees weak.

Your phone buzzes in your hands and you suppress your groan.

[ 6:14 pm ] jungkook (dude w the nice dick): you still coming over?

You don’t realize Hoseok leans over to read your text until —!

“Booty-call.”

Flicking his forehead, you ignore Jungkook’s message. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Alright,” he says, following after you. He keeps quiet until you’ve both entered the elevator, away from other’s prying ears. “Are you going to visit him tonight?”

“I don’t know.”

Your thoughts are torn between right and wrong — your career and pleasure. Meeting him tonight and ending things would be the right decision, but you’re not entirely sure you would be able to avoid his advances if you tried.

You’re screwed.

It’s been long since you crossed the Gates of Eden and sunken your teeth into the divine fruit, and now you’re addicted to the taste.

You are so incredibly screwed.

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