#i tried new brushes n style (a lil) with this one so tell me what you think >:D/nf

[satellite-starss]

lil sci doodle

[mercy-burning]

She’s An Angel

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer discovers that Reader has a rather promiscuous personality behind closed doors, and he can’t help but give into her. Category: SMUT (18+), (there’s a lil fluff at the end, but it’s mostly filth lol) Warnings: Language, heavy flirting and sexual tension, female/male-receiving oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, innocence kink (kinda?), breeding kink, dirty talk Word Count: 10.8k

***EDITED: 7/23/2021***

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, guys! This is my entry for @willowrose99 ‘s 1-Year Writing Challenge Celebration! My prompts were: Only Angel by Harry Styles (fun fact, this is my favorite Harry song! And the notes/texts that Reader sends to Spencer are lines from the song), stealing clothes, and the dialogue “You know, I kinda like it when you call me -pet name-” I hope you all enjoy it! I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!!!

Also! Little fun fact: sex and metaphors/references to religion is like... my favorite thing in the whole world, so I made a tiny playlist for you to give a listen if you’re interested! If you have song recs so I can add them, please let me know! I’m always on the lookout for new stuff :) Enjoy!!

***

He didn't think much of it the first day she started working at the BAU. If anything, Spencer was glad that they had an intern— someone who could share some of their responsibilities without completely changing the dynamic of the work. She even became part of their family, going out with them after cases, attending every workplace gathering, whether it be a wedding for a co-worker they didn't see often, one of Rossi's dinner parties, or Henry's birthday party.

It wasn't until they were setting up for the BAU office Halloween party that he noticed something was... different.

Y/N and Spencer were put on decorating duty while everyone else brought food and music, and whatever else. They stopped by extra early to set up, meaning they would be there together, alone, for at least two hours before anyone showed up.

Normally that wouldn't have been anything to worry about, but Y/N showed up in costume, and it completely threw him for a loop.

Now, he wasn't one to really care whether or not people used Halloween as an outlet to dress like sexy nurses or cheerleaders or whatever else. Sure, he'd rather go with something on the scary side, something with a creepy mask or intricate makeup, but in the end the holiday was everyone's to enjoy how they wanted to. And one way or the other, he never saw anyone in a sexy Halloween costume and found himself tempted by them in the slightest. In fact, it was rare that he ever saw anyone in one at all.

So, when Y/N slowed up to the office wearing a very skin-tight, tiny schoolgirl costume, and his heart leapt out of his chest, mouth going dry and blood running hot at the sight of her?

He was a goner.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him, dropping the large bag she was carrying to run over and give him a hug, which he shakily returned, trying to snap out of his daze. Suddenly he felt a little underdressed, not wearing his costume yet, and truthfully, he wasn't sure if he wanted to wear one at all now, fearful that she'd think it was too immature.

Even more frightening than the holiday itself was the fact that Spencer found himself caring about what Y/N would think of his costume when a minute ago it hadn't even crossed his mind.

He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly before she released him from her hug, hoping to expel his fear and remember that she was his friend and she'd never actually say anything bad about his costume. Not that that'd even mattered in the first place. It shouldn't have mattered, right?

God, pull yourself together! She's just a pretty girl dressed in a suggestive costume, it's nothing you haven't seen before...

Though, he wasn't even sure he could call her a pretty girl right then.

Because when she pulled away from him, talking about some of the decorations she brought, he had ample opportunity to get a good look at her costume up close. And she wasn't pretty. She was downright sexy, all legs protruding underneath a short plaid skirt and adorning shiny black heels, curly hair tumbling down her shoulders in pigtails. Her shirt was so low, most of the buttons undone to reveal a black lacy bra underneath. She wore a pair of glasses that sat cutely on the tip of her nose and minimal makeup, the only noticeable thing being bright red lip color.

That wasn't what was different, though.

Sure, she'd never worn anything that scandalous around work or even on nights out, but it wasn't the fact that she'd done so now that felt strange. No, it was the way she looked up at him, her head hung low and her eyes looking up through eyelashes. When she got excited to tell him something, she pitched her voice higher. And often times, she'd put herself in compromising positions, and it seemed like it was on purpose.

At one point she stood right in front of him trying to hang a streamer on a beam she was most certainly not tall enough to reach. Her arms stretched high, all fabric on her body rising up and exposing more skin. Spencer quickly tried to avoid any problems, offering to help so she wouldn't hurt herself, first of all, but also so that he wouldn't find himself staring too long when he shouldn't have been staring at all.

The whole time they were decorating, she found excuses to drop things and pick them up, to stumble and hold onto his arm for steadiness, to accidentally brush past him... And that's what was so different about her.

He didn't want to assume she'd been drinking before coming to the office, and if he'd known any better he wouldn't have assumed it in the first place. But that was the one and only thing that crossed his mind that could have been the answer to her strange behavior, despite the lack of alcohol on her breath. (The only reason he knew her breath didn't smell of alcohol was because at one point, she hugged him again and pulled back to look in his eyes, brushing stray curls from his face and telling him they did a good job finishing up the room they'd been working on.)

Now they were in the conference room, and Spencer was hanging streamers as Y/N sat in one of the chairs, wheeled back to the middle of the room so she could observe everything. Well... observe Spencer was more correct. At least that's what he figured, anyway. It was like he could feel her eyes burning into the back of him. Or maybe he was just still unable to get over the fact that she and her stupidly hot costume had had that big of an effect on him.

He stood down from the chair and asked Y/N to hand him more tape, refusing to look at her.

"Spence, are you alright?" she asked sweetly, rolling her chair over to the table so she could reach the tape. The innocent concern in her voice had that same suspicious tone to it that wouldn't leave him alone, like it was nagging him and calling to him... begging to confront her.

He flicked his gaze down to meet hers for the briefest of seconds before looking back at the table. "N—Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She picked up the tape and toyed with it between her fingers, which were manicured a light pink color. He couldn't help but stare at them. "You seem a little... on edge."

With a swallow, an attempt to bring moisture back to his throat, Spencer shook his head. "I'm... No, I'm sure. Everything's fine."

Y/N sighed. "Well, I've been working with you profilers for some time now, and... I think I can tell when you're lying. Was it... something I did?"

There she went again, her voice high and soft. Innocent. Like she was in character.

Spencer looked at her face again, and then immediately he regretted it. She was half pouting at him, doe-eyed and head tilted to expose her neck. He swallowed again, trying to figure her out while also figuring out what to say.

"No," is what he settled on, audibly nervous.

She could tell, too, because he thought he saw her smirk for just a split second. But then it was gone, replaced once again by her pout. "Oh... Good. Because I thought for a second that you didn't like my costume."

She obviously had to be up to something, right? Was she... flirting with him? And more importantly, did he want her to flirt with him? He'd never really thought about Y/N in that context before, but she was single, beautiful, and... well, truthfully that's all he really knew about her. They'd been friends for about a year now, and he couldn't put together one single thought about her other than the stuttering, muddled confusion over the fact that she was in a sexy Halloween costume and most likely openly flirting with him.

What was that Emily said once about his IQ dropping in the presence of a pretty woman?

Y/N had rendered him utterly thoughtless.

And speechless, too, apparently, because he stood there, staring at her without saying a single word.

"Spencer," she called out softly, almost like a lullaby. Her chair rolled back, away from the table to give him a better view of her legs as she un-crossed them and very slightly opened her knees. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

As if he wasn't already practically burning inside-out since the moment she arrived at the office, now his blood ran hot, and he was suddenly very uncomfortably warm. "U—Um, y—yes, you're... You're beautiful, y—your costume... It's nice, it looks nice on you."

Her pout slowly turned into a smile as she patted her knees. "Thank you... I wore it just for you, you know."

Is this some sort of bizarre dream? he wondered, his knees almost buckling at her words, their tone, and the meaning of it all.

"Y—You did?" he whispered brokenly.

"Mnmm," she drawled as her fingers toyed with themselves. "You teach, right?"

"Sometimes."

Y/N hummed and nodded, her legs still closed enough that he couldn't see anything... extra promiscuous. "You know, I bet you have quite a few students who find you attractive... Tell me, do any of them dress like this?"

She leaned back in the chair and started to run her hands slowly up the inside of her thigh, just above her knee. "Do they ever... Sit in the front row and... spread their legs just enough for you to see the pretty panties they picked out... just for you..."

By now her hands were resting on the inside of her thighs, her legs spread in exactly the way she'd described. He couldn't help himself. There she was, offering herself to him, and in his line of vision was the faintest glimpse of baby pink fabric that matched the color of her fingernails.

He didn't even know how to verbally respond. By now he was sure his face was beet red, and his palms were sweating so badly and struggling to keep him upright as he leaned forward on the table. Ah, the table— the only thing separating him from her, a fact which he wasn't quite sure if he was thankful for or not.

The spell she had around her broke when her phone rang. And just like that, it was like she was... herself again. At least, the 'herself' Spencer had always known. She sat up and walked over to the other side of the room to grab her phone from her bag, reading the screen as he struggled to catch his breath.

"It's Penelope. She has a costume emergency I have to help with. Are you good putting the rest of these up?"

"U—Um, yeah. Yeah, go."

Y/N smiled and grabbed her bag, thanking him as she walked past and left him behind.

He heard her call back as her figure was etching itself into his brain, ready to remain there until the end of time. "Can't wait to see your costume!"

***

Luke and Tara were having a conversation that he was supposed to be paying attention to, but Spencer's mind was still occupied by Y/N and her... outward display of sensuality.

Her voice was echoing in his brain, replaying over and over how she'd dressed up for him. And the longer he tried to wrap his brain around everything, the more he wound up confused. Where had her forwardness even come from? Had she been actively interested in him this whole time and he just hadn't seen it until now? A possibility, but why had she chosen to go to that extreme rather than just tell him the truth? Maybe she'd just found being overtly sexual an easier tactic than others?

Or maybe, in the end, she was just messing with him. Even though Derek had moved away, it was entirely possible that he'd somehow concocted one of his ridiculous pranks and roped Y/N into helping him since he wasn't around to do it himself. A smart move, though it was highly unlikely.

Spencer just didn't know what to do. Depending on how the rest of the night went, he was probably just going to have to muster up the courage to ask her what her intentions were. And depending on what she says, he was going to have to figure out what he wanted from their relationship... Did she want just sex? Did he want just sex? Did she want to go out with him? Is that something he would want as well?

He was just about to mull it over when Penelope's boisterous laugh sounded from the other side of the room. Spencer looked up, eager to see if Y/N was with her, since she'd been called away on a costume emergency. Penelope was dressed as a devil, red sparkly horns on her red-streaked, curled hair. She was dressed head-to-toe in a red dress and shoes that felt very much like her, with feathers and sequins, and her makeup was also red and black and absolutely glittery.

And sure enough, behind her stood the woman who'd been occupying Spencer's mind for the past hour and a half. Though, she wasn't dressed as a schoolgirl anymore.

He found himself swearing under his breath as he took her in, shimmering where she stood, dressed in all white.

She was an angel.

An actual angel. Her hair fell loose around her, accessorized with a headband with a golden halo attached to it. Her dress was still pretty form-fitting, though nowhere near as scandalous as her previous outfit. It was long and flowed out at the bottom until it hit the floor, a ring of gold at the hem. The sleeves were also long and bell-bottomed, accented with gold at the end.

And from where Spencer stood, even that far away, he noticed the glitter that surrounded her eyes, gold to compliment the color on her dress. Her lips were still bright red, and her glasses were gone. And the wings... As small as they were—most likely to keep from taking up too much space—they stood out in any crowd, purely white and outlined in gold, just like the rest of her outfit.

Why had she changed? Did... she actually change at all? Had he truly only imagined their encounter hours ago?

"Any... specific angels crossing your mind?" Spencer heard Luke say, punctuated with a pat on the shoulder.

He blinked and looked at him. "What?"

"Y/N... She makes a pretty good angel, eh?"

"Uh, yeah, I—I guess so."

Luke and Tara laughed, obviously amused by all of this. But they hadn't seen her earlier. They hadn't been there to witness her seducing him and acting like she'd done it a million times over. They didn't know what she was doing to him, inhabiting every corner of his brain and driving him mad trying to figure it all out.

But it wasn't uncommon for his friends to tease him about the female attention he got sometimes. And when it was obvious that he was flustered, they kept the friendly teasing going. And every time, he settled on leaving it alone, because he knew it would pass and he wouldn't have to worry about it again, at least until the next woman hit on him in public.

And Y/N? She worked with them. As long as she was in his head, he was afraid he'd never stop being flustered in her presence.

So he had to know. He had to talk to her and see what was going on, no matter how awkward it might get.

For now though, it was Halloween, and he was going to spend the night with his friends while doing the very rare amount of drinking and the more frequent amount of laughter.

The night didn't come without a few looks in Y/N's direction, though. She never came up to him directly, though a few times he'd catch her looking at him. And each time, she'd wave and continue on her merry way, laughing with Emily or doing some silly dance with Penelope in their coupling costumes.

Honestly, if earlier hadn't happened, he would have thought nothing of it. She was being completely normal. Happy, friendly... Simply Y/N, as he'd known her for the past year and a half.

He just finished saying goodbye to JJ, who was leaving early to go trick-or-treating with her kids, when she finally approached him. At the sight of her getting closer, her otherworldliness making his blood go warm again, he tried to compose himself. After all, there was no way she'd do anything sensual in public like this, right?

"I didn't get a chance to compliment you on your costume yet," she said brightly, her voice not carrying that higher tone from before. "You make a very believable zombie."

He looked down at his tattered clothes, a small laugh escaping him. "Thank you... It's no high-level makeup job, but I tried my best."

When he looked back up to her, the shimmer of her makeup basked her in a glow that made it incredibly hard to breathe. She really was pretty. Still sexy, of course, but in an understated way this time.

And he couldn't help but bring up the difference. "You... changed."

Something sparkled in her eyes then, giving them a devious glint that inherently contradicted her costume, and the mere implications of that made him tremble, especially as she said, "Mhm... I figured the schoolgirl costume was a little too inappropriate for the workplace. And besides... I did say I wore it just... for you..."

So he hadn't imagined the whole thing... On the one hand he was relieved to know he wasn't freaking out over something that hadn't actually happened. But... on the other, what did that leave him with?

It left him with a woman who was standing in front of him, dressed like an angel while giving him all sorts of devilish feelings.

Once again she'd rendered him speechless, though now his thoughts were filled with images of those pretty, glimmering eyes above him, watching as he worshipped her between her legs... Of her hands twisted in his hair as he showed her just how much he wanted her, to show her how beautiful she was.

Those thoughts were interrupted when she got closer, toying with a stray curl that stuck out from his head. She twirled it around her finger and looked up at him, doe-eyed again as she purred, "Happy Halloween, Doctor Reid."

She was gone too quickly, whisked away by the throes of an office holiday party that, one way or another, served as the beginning to a long, tempestuous affair.

***

In the weeks that followed, Spencer went about his days as normally as he could, focusing on work, and getting ready for another month of teaching, where he'd be away from his friends and, therefore, also away from Y/N.

It's not that he necessarily wanted to be away from her... Yet, after constant flirting with no direction other than his dreams filling with filthy images of the two of them together and no actual outlet for it, he figured a break would do him some good. Of course, he wasn't sure what would await him when he came back—if she'd forget about all of it and give up or if she'd come at him stronger than before.

It was his final day before leave, and so naturally, Y/N had to make it hard on him. He was sure that's what she was doing.

Since it was getting colder, she strayed away from skirts, though occasionally she would show up to work in a longer dress or a shirt that hugged her in all the right places, especially on the days that he would be working with her more. She had the BAU's schedules on hand always, so she had to be using that as a way to get to him.

On those days, she often used her higher pitch when she spoke to him, and her eyes were always adventurous— they wandered over every part of his body and sometimes quickly blinked away when he caught her, accompanying an embarrassed smile. (Though, Spencer was convinced she really was absolutely not embarrassed.)

Other times she pulled the "Oops, I dropped something," trick, and "You know, it's almost Winter but it's still so warm in here, don't you think?" followed by a stretch of her body as she slowly put her hair up or dragged it over her shoulder. 

His plan was to wait until he got back from leave, assess their situation from there after he'd cleared his head for a while, and then talk to her about what the hell was going on. Though the thought of confronting her scared him a little, he knew he couldn't let this go on any longer without some sort of conversation about what was next... What it all meant. It would drive him crazy otherwise.

With all the sensual, suggestive looks and actions she was throwing at him, though, it was a wonder he hadn't gotten to that point already.

As if she'd figured this out—because of course she would have found a way to get into his brain and know what he was thinking and feeling before he could even do so himself—Y/N stood by a storage closet with a clipboard. She pretended to write things down, when in reality she was looking up at him every so often, biting her lip and crossing her legs where she stood. She looked utterly desperate for something, almost like it was painful for her to be deprived of whatever it was she was looking for.

Spencer had a sneaking suspicion he knew what that was. And the thought sent a wave of electricity through his veins. All day she'd been going extra hard in attempts to catch his attention, and since it was his final day before leaving for a month, he knew that had to be the reason why.

If catching his attention was her goal, she'd definitely succeeded.

Across the room, and across a small sea of co-workers who were head-down, going through paperwork, he caught her eye and waited, his fingers twitching like they wanted to reach out to her. She tilted her head to the side and tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, staring back at him like she was in a daydream.

And sure enough, she was standing underneath a light, one singular beam that sat atop her head like a halo and bathed her in a soft glow.

Even without the costume, she was an angel... For a moment Spencer wondered if maybe she'd planed on it all from the start— making her move by dressing like an angel on Halloween for one night and then finding any way on purpose to replicate that presence without actually dressing up again. Was it a way to mess with his head, to make him believe that she was calling to him? That she would... save him somehow?

He had to know what she was doing.

So he gave in and stood up, his eyes keeping contact with hers as he got closer and closer. Before he could get to her, though, she winked and then turned around, entering the storage closet and disappearing before his eyes. Still, he followed her, desperately hoping that's what she wanted.

And with a silent prayer that felt ironic as he thought it, Spencer opened the door and entered the adventure that awaited him. Whether it would be heavenly or otherwise he wasn't sure, but either way he was ready to confront it.

Y/N had turned on a desk lamp, its orange glow the only source of light in an otherwise pitch-black space. She leaned back against a table, still standing with her legs crossed over each other, hands bracing themselves on the tabletop. "How's it going, Doctor Reid?"

"What are you doing?" he asked, almost immediately after she greeted him. Now that he was alone with her, away from unassuming eyes, he exhaled and visibly showed his confusion through pleading eyes. "Please, I need to know what you're doing..."

He barely saw the contours of her face through dim lighting as she smiled. "What do you mean?"

"Y/N... Don't do that." He took a step closer, even though the quick beating of his heart signaled that it might have been a dangerous move. "Tell me..."

"Isn't it obvious?" she cooed, her hands coming out to toy with the hem of her frilly skirt.

As he looked down at it, he had to wonder if there really was a God out there, some higher being that sent this angel down to destroy him. How else did it stand to happen that even though it was nearing the end of November, the one day it was warm enough for Y/N not to freeze while wearing a skirt was the final day he had before leaving for a whole moth?—Before it was inevitably snowy and she wouldn't have the luxury to tease him with her skin?

She must have caught his lingering gaze on her legs, because she laughed softly, spreading them to stand a bit further apart while her fingers very lightly pushed the fabric of her skirt up. "I've been trying to get your attention ever since I got here... But you never seemed to notice. So I figured... Why not be a little more... forthcoming..."

"Y—You could have... said something," he whispered, forcing himself to look at her face. But as he was learning, he couldn't look at any part of her without his whole body going up in flames. 

By now she was walking closer to him, small, languid steps that perfectly showcased how her body could move. "Well... Truth is, I was scared... Every time I tried to talk to you, I got really nervous..." Her voice was demure, apologetic almost... Embarrassed. But it had to have just been part of the allure, right? Part of her show? "You're just so... intimidating."

Spencer swallowed, a small laugh coming from him as he tried not to collapse at her closeness. "I'm... I'm really not..."

But she laughed, finally close enough to reach out and grab his tie, which is what she did. She held the fabric in her hands for a few seconds before letting it drop, bringing her pointer finger to gently trace patterns on his chest. "Not in a mean way, silly... You're... incredibly smart, and you're good at your job... You're always so nice to everyone... And I bet you really know how to make a girl feel good..."

He found himself trembling under her touch again as she brought her hand down to meet his. She leaned up to nudge his chin with her nose as she moved his hand to the inside of her thigh. It was only the slightest of touches, nothing rushed or passionate about it. In fact, Y/N seemed more taken with the idea of using her touch to draw everything out— to make him pine for it, lose all semblance of sanity until he finally gave in and did whatever he wanted to her.

"Don't you wanna know what it feels like to touch me?" she whispered, her breath hot on his neck. Meanwhile her hand guided his own farther up her skirt, until he felt her skin getting warmer and warmer with each millimeter. His throat was dry, breath shaky as he fluttered his eyes closed and embraced the moment, embraced the guidance... "To feel how wet you make me?"

His heart practically leapt out of his chest once his hand was finally met with said wetness. Her panties were damp and oh so warm, and he couldn't stop the whine that left his throat as she pressed his fingers hard into her against the fabric. Her fingers covered his like a glove, guiding them in small circles over her clothed clit as she sighed into his neck.

"You feel that?" she asked, nuzzling into his skin. "That's what you do to me, Doctor.  From the moment I saw you, I knew you'd ruin me..."

He breathed a laugh then, finding it utterly ironic how that's how she felt. She could have just been toying with him, but there was enough longing and desperation in her voice to let him know she really meant it. She'd been waiting for him to come along and whisk her away...

So that's what he was going to do.

Spencer removed his hand from her then, walking them over to the table and pulling her right to him by gripping the waistband of her panties and keeping her still. The gasp she let out fueled him in a way that would have wrecked him if the job hadn't already been done. As he looked down at her, her body was basked in the soft orange luminescence of the desk lamp, a sight that aesthetically added to his desire and farther fueled the heat that had been accumulating in his veins, waiting to be released.

"Is that what you want, angel?" he breathed, the words even taking him by surprise. His sexual experience was far from non-existent, but it was limited enough that he'd never acted this feral before. Never had a partner ever had this strong of a hold on him, so tight that he found it a struggle to breathe. Add on the fact that he wanted to embrace that struggle if it meant being this way with her, and you had a man who was completely unraveling under the allure of one single woman until she ultimately brought forth his demise. "You want me to ruin you?"

Though he was giving in, like he assumed she wanted in the first place, Y/N hummed, tilting her head again and blinking up at him. "You know, I kinda like it when you call me angel..."

Spencer gripped the fabric tighter, and she whined. "Is it what you want?" In other words, Do you want this? 

Y/N nodded, and then he crashed his lips with hers as he tugged at her panties and let them drop to the floor in a pool around her feet. She flung her arms around his shoulders and pressed herself into him more, allowing his tongue to part her lips and explore her with liveliness. She was more than welcome to embracing it, verbally giving him praises in the form of whimpers and physical ones in the form of her hips rolling forward to get more friction.

As one of his hands found purchase under one of her thighs, he thought back to Halloween night, and how he'd imagined his head between her legs. The memory had his entire body tensing with pleasure, and without a second thought, he pulled away and dropped to his knees, looking up at her with what he hoped was the purest form of desire.

He looked up at her, admiring the way her face looked in the dim light, as he lifted one of her legs and placed it on his shoulder. Still keeping eye contact, he tilted his head and kissed the inside of her leg. But eventually he let his focus lean to immersing himself in her pleasure, tearing his eyes away from hers and completely shifting his head to face her leg. His lips trailed upwards, taking his time to remember the taste and the feel of her soft skin. 

The higher he got, the heavier her breathing became, and it wasn't long before he fully had his head under her skirt. She tried to move the fabric so she could see him, but he gripped her wrists and pinned them at her sides, eliciting a laugh from her that quickly turned into a whimper once he brushed his nose over where she ached for him.

Without being able to stop himself, Spencer inhaled, breathing her in and letting out a shaky breath as he inched closer and involuntarily closed his eyes, completely wrapped up in her like he'd never felt before. He was intoxicated by her, even more so when his mouth finally made contact with her dripping cunt.

Feeling her shudder above him was almost as heavenly as the way she tasted, sweet and bitter and oh so delectable. He'd never craved anything more than her in that moment, his tongue lapping her up and making a point to taste all of her. He explored and worshipped and praised her just how he'd imagined he would, though now that it was actually happening and he'd really had a taste of her, he wasn't sure he could ever go back.

Not that he wanted to. Especially as she whined and rolled her hips against his face, seeking more pleasure as she tried to be quiet in the closet.

Spencer, though he knew the importance of keeping it quiet right then, couldn't say he was the same way. Since his head was hiked up her skirt, and his sounds were muffled by her skin, he was as loud as he wanted to be, groaning into her and mumbling praises in between while catching his breath. He reveled in the feeling of her wetness coating the lower half of his face and the sounds that both pairs of her lips were providing. It truly was better than any symphony or choir he'd ever heard, and if he could spend the rest of his life down there, worshipping at her altar and giving her everything she desired, he would have.

But they were at work, and if they were gone too long, it would get suspicious.

So, as much as he wanted to draw out her pleasure—and by association, his own—he focused on getting her to her peak, flicking his tongue out over her clit and letting her hips rock forward to get her exactly where she wanted to be.

He knew she was about to come when she stopped whining and whimpering altogether, the leg she had draped over his shoulder curling and tightening around him to keep herself steady.

His tongue was relentless, keeping at what it was doing while Spencer imagined what her face must have looked like. Were her eyes rolling to the back of her head or were they squeezed tight? And her mouth— was it hanging open? Was her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she attempted to keep herself from yelling out? And as her hands struggled in his grasp, trying to escape most likely in favor of gripping his hair, he imagined them tied up above her head, attached to his bedframe as he took his time, drawing out every little sound she could have possibly made until she was just as unraveled as he was.

And then her grip loosened all around him, a whiny sigh escaping from her mouth, and Spencer reluctantly drew himself away from her. He dropped her leg from his shoulder and licked at his lips, tasting as much of her as he could before he had to return to work. And then, when he was moving to remove his head from under her skirt, he caught sight of her panties on the ground, picking them up and sliding the garment lightly up along her leg as he stood.

The only thing was, he wasn't putting them back on her.

No, they hung loose between his fingers as they tickled the inside of her legs, and when he finally stood tall enough to tower over her again, he got as close as he could to her, bringing the fabric up between her legs, right where he'd just been, and pressed them firmly to her sensitive pussy.

"Time to clean you up, angel," he whispered, swiping his hand forward and doing exactly that. Y/N whined against his mouth, faintly tasting herself on his lips as he cleaned her.

He kissed her then, gently, removing his hand from under her skirt and depositing the damp fabric right into his pocket.

If Spencer hadn't known already that he was done for, he would have figured it out right then, when he pulled back far enough to see the high, blissed out look in her pretty eyes. She blinked at him and sighed, telling him one final thing before she pushed past him and walked out into the office with no underwear and half-wobbly legs.

"I miss you already, Doctor..."

***

He missed her, too.

The month-long leave was supposed to assist in letting him clear his head, but the longer he was away from her, the more it drove him mad. Occasionally he'd still taste the sweet tanginess of her on his tongue, and no amount of coffee could rinse it out. Sometimes he'd be grading papers and daydream about hearing her whimper out his name as he took care of her.

It didn't help that she also sent him texts, little things that would have sounded innocent to anyone else but had a way more promiscuous meaning to the both of them. They mostly involved the discussion of angels, of course, as she left him with a quote or a song lyric, and other days with a fact about a specific angel.

Today, the morning before classes started, she sent him, She's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see... Spencer didn't know what it meant, what it was referencing, but it was innocent enough that he didn't think anything of it until lunch rolled around and he checked his phone to see another text.

...When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets.

He couldn't stop thinking about it. All day, even as he was trying to distract himself by lecturing, all he could see in his mind was Y/N. Sometimes with her angel costume on, but mostly with nothing on, her body fitting into his like a puzzle piece as she sighed out his name like a prayer.

And to think, he had one more week until he would see her again.

But then he was looking through his students' quizzes, small sheets of paper with some terminology and matching definitions they needed to pair together. Since there were only about five minutes left until the class was over, he let his students spend the rest of the time how they chose, not really in the mood to burn himself out speaking when he knew it was only a matter of time before he slipped and said something about Y/N that he shouldn't.

The next quiz he grabbed was folded in half, unusual, but he opened it and was looking to go about his merry way regardless. But then he saw a post-it note right in the middle of the paper, reading She's an angel, my only angel, and punctuated with a pair of red lips.

The first thing he did was drop the pen that was in his hand. Not like he did it on purpose, though, he was pretty sure all joint and muscle function was lost upon reading the handwriting he knew so well, and a reference that only she could make.

And then he looked up, eyes scanning the sea of students to find her. She had to have been there, right? A few of the students found it odd that he was just looking through all of them, but all he was worried about was finding her.

And there she was.

Y/N had tucked herself all the way in the back, her eyes locked directly onto him. She winked then, when she knew she had his attention, and all Spencer could think about was how it must have been another dream. Her texts from earlier had gotten to him more than usual, and because of it, he was seeing her everywhere, seeing what he wanted to see.

Even though he wanted to keep looking at her, to try and figure out if she was really there or if she was just a figment of his devilish mind, he didn't want anyone to catch him. To anyone else it would look like he might have been staring at another student, and with the lust he knew was definitely swimming in them, the last thing he wanted to do was get in trouble like that.

So, to his dismay and reluctance, he slipped the note into the drawer beside him and quietly finished grading, even though he was longing to see how else he could let Y/N destroy him.

Even as the bell rang and everyone filtered out, Spencer kept his head low, refusing to look up until everyone was gone and only one person remained.

The quieter it got, the harder he could feel his heart beating. And then the only thing that cut through the silence was that unmistakable, angelic high pitch that would surely never fail to bring him to his knees.

"Did you get my note, Doctor?"

Only then did he allow himself to look up, and when he did, seeing her closer to him than she'd been in almost a month now, it was like the stars aligned. "Yes," he whispered, getting out of his seat and walking around the desk to be as close to her as possible.

She laughed and met him in the middle, nearly trapping him between herself and the desk. Her hands reached out to grab at his suit jacket and he wished that she'd touch him somewhere else. Anywhere else, just to feel the soft warmth of her skin.

"And my texts?" she cooed, taking another step and actually trapping him between her body and his desk.

"Y—Yeah, I got them."

"Oh, good. I've been thinking a lot about how you left me..." She slid her hands then, under his jacket and across his stomach until they reached his waist. "The second I got in my car to go home, you were already on your way here... And I couldn't help but wonder what you were doing with my panties..."

They were currently back in his hotel room, in the drawer and laying atop of his own clothes, a vision that had him reeling, wondering if she was wearing any now. So he asked. "Are... Um..."

Well, he tried to ask, anyway.

Y/N caught on, though, beaming at him as her hands removed herself from him and slipped up her skirt. "You wanna see the pair I'm wearing now?"

"Y/N... There's... Someone could come in, I..."

She clucked her tongue. "Oh, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble, don't worry. I'll just... Give you a quick peek."

She didn't wait for him to respond, lifting the hem of the skirt and stepping back so he could see the front of her underwear, which were white and printed with black cursive lettering.

Angel.

As soon as he exhaled, loud and obviously very turned on at the sight in front of him, she dropped the skirt and smiled. "You like them? I needed to buy a new pair since you felt the need to steal my others..."

Spencer really didn't know what to say. All he knew was that his body was on fire, and the tightening of his pants was extremely dangerous since he had another class in a half hour and there wasn't enough time to take care of it unless they did something right now. And even then, they were in a public area with hardly anywhere to go. His best bet would be to go to the bathroom and be as inconspicuous as possible to take care of it himself. Or, Y/N needed to leave immediately so he could settle down and just let it go away on its own.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have a hard time denying her of anything.

Which was why he didn't stop her when she sunk to her knees.

As she undid his belt, looking up at him  with sparkling eyes, she spoke to him. "Honestly, I had every intention to just make out with you a little, just enough to satiate myself until I can see you again next week, but... Well, I'm wearing lipstick, and I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

He'd made out with a woman before, who'd worn lipstick, and surprisingly it was pretty easy to remove, so he knew she had to have been lying as some part of a bigger scheme, but... he couldn't quite figure out what that was. Obviously she had plans to take care of his erection for him, so why make up the story?

But then she kept talking, only slightly pulling down his pants and palming him through his underwear. "And then I thought about how pretty you'd look covered in lipstick kisses, and, well... It's always good to start somewhere, don't you think?"

Oh...

His stomach did flips when she traced his dick through the fabric covering it, gently with her middle finger. And then, looking into his eyes from below, she pulled it out and slowly stroked it with her hand, a low hum coming from her throat. "Mmm, I can't wait to mark up this pretty cock..."

That's when he lost all semblance of control, a strained groan falling from his lips, coming from the great depths of his chest, just from her words alone. And she took that moment to lean forward and press the gentlest of kisses to the base of his dick. She held her lips there for a second or wo before removing them and moving just a little higher, her eyes never leaving his face.

Her kisses trailed higher and higher, centimeter by centimeter until she reached his tip, where she ever so slightly flicked her tongue over the slit at the top, tasting his precum. And then gave him one final kiss—one final red mark.

The temptation to grab her hair and hold her there while he fucked her throat was strong, but as he looked down at her, she was examining her handiwork with a seductive hunger that made him realize that no matter how strong his urges got, she would always be the one in charge. Even if she acted all innocent and submissive, she was the one who held the key to his sexual desires, and therefore she was the only one who had the ability to unlock them.

So, he contained himself as she looked up at him, winked, and quickly tucked his hard dick back into the confines of his pants.

And when she stood up, she leaned up to his cheek and pressed another kiss there, leaving behind a red mark and all all his sanity with it, quickly turning away before he could catch her.

"See you later, Doctor," she called over her shoulder before she disappeared out the door.

Spencer let out a long, unsteady breath, debating on whether or not he should take care of his situation in the bathroom or right there in the classroom, behind his desk and into the trash can underneath it while he still had ample time to do so.

He sat in the chair about a minute later, his hand moving furiously under the desk as he breathed out hushed whispers of her name.

***

No matter how badly he wanted more alcohol in his system, he wasn't going to allow it. After one drink he was already starting to feel the affects, veins buzzing right along with the low hum of the music from inside. The single streetlight above him provided only the dimmest of lights as he took deep breaths in and out, focusing on the bitter cold from the December air and the soft pelting of snowflakes upon the skin of his cheeks.

Y/N's touch still burned him, right along his inner thigh where her hand had firmly rested while they and the rest of their friends ate dinner at the bar. All night so far, she'd been teasing him to no end, whether it was a brush of her hand against his crotch or a tiny kiss on the shoulder when no one was looking.

How no one had figured them out yet was a mystery.

Spencer rubbed his hands together, trying to keep them warm when he felt it. She was behind him.

"You've been out here for a while, Spence, is everything okay?" Even when she wasn't speaking to him in her angelic higher pitch, he still felt like succumbing to the sound her voice regardless.

He turned around to face her, and sighed. It figured that even surrounded by a street that was covered in brown-tainted snow, she wouldn't have let it taint her beauty. He was convinced that no matter where she was or what she looked like, she'd always be perfect— capable of knocking the breath out of him every time he looked at her. "Honestly, you've been driving me crazy."

"Oh," she said, her eyes slightly shifting to the ground. "Maybe I... did take it too far, I... I'm sorry." The slight tinge of embarrassment and maybe regret that filtered through her voice nearly ran him to the ground— How could she ever believe that he would feel overwhelmed by her? Sure, to some extent, he was extremely overwhelmed by her, but it was never a negative thing.

"Oh, angel, that's not what I meant," he explained softly, taking a few steps towards her.

She lifted her head, eyes doe-eyed and sparkling, though not as they usually were. This time they were swimming in a softness that made him yearn for her even more. "What?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm absolutely mesmerized by you... Y/N..." Spencer brought a hand to lightly caress her face, and when she leaned into his touch it made him so warm he thought it would melt all of the snow. "I can't get you out of my head, and I... I don't know if I ever want to. I mean that."

"Y—You're not... weirded out or anything?" she asked softly. "That I just... sprung all my feelings and my lust out onto you all at once? B—Because I know it was sudden, and I came on really strong so fast, I just... I thought you liked it, and so I just kept going, but really I should have stopped and... I don't know, asked if you were okay with it..."

He'd seen this softness in her before— When she watched over JJ's kids in the office sometimes, and when she helped Penelope set the table for their 'family dinners'. Every time, on the rare occasion that she actually went on cases with them, when she helped JJ comfort the families who'd lost their loved ones, he saw it. And even through all the lust, that sweetness in her soul was what truly made her an angel. Even though the lust is all he'd been swimming in since Halloween, deep down he really knew that it was only a small part of who she really was.

So, he said to her, "Y/N, I'm enchanted by all of you. I don't... I don't know what happened to make you want to come on strong to me, but... I'm glad you did. Believe me when I say, there is nothing about you that would scare me away."

He didn't know how she was feeling, but she practically visibly melted at his words, right in front of him. "You really mean that?"

With a smile, Spencer stepped even closer and brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. "Of course I mean it, my angel."

She laughed then, her hands wrapping themselves over his waist. "Your angel, huh?"

"Mhm... If you'd like to be..."

Y/N leaned up and pressed her lips to his in answer, firmly and with all the sweetness she had nestled inside her soul.

But the longer they stood there outside the bar, kisses growing warmer and hungrier with each passing second, Spencer realized that he didn't want her sweetness any longer, not tonight anyway. He cradled her face in his hands, feeling the fire in his veins come alive when she whined into his mouth and willed herself closer.

Before he could say fuck it and decide to take her right there outside, he pulled away, still needing her but not entirely willing to get themselves caught for public indecency.

Y/N spoke before he got a chance to, her higher pitch coming back and almost bringing him to his knees.

"What do you say you take your angel home and show her a good time?"

***

She didn't even get a chance to close the door to his apartment before he was on her, his hands tugging at her coat to get it off.

It was a frenzy, at least while they were stripping. Jackets and boots and scarves were strewn across the entryway and leading into the living room, until each of them only had two layers: their regular clothes and what they wore underneath. And that's when they finally allowed themselves the luxury of wrapping their limbs around each other.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he grabbed ahold of her ass to keep her steady. For added support, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him the whole way to his bedroom, but not without a few stumbles. Either way, they were so quite literally wrapped up in each other that the imperfections didn't matter.

Like she could ever come with imperfections... Spencer thought as he set her down, immediately bringing his hands to the back of her dress.

Meanwhile she unbuttoned his shirt, fumbling around so much that he thought she might choose to rip it open, and selfishly he wished she would have. But she got it open without tearing any buttons, and the fabric slid easily off his shoulders at the same time her dress slid off her own.

He was going to kiss her again, but once he caught a glimpse of what she'd been hiding under her dress, there was nothing he could physically do but rake his eyes over her figure and pray for forgiveness for all the devilish things he wanted to do to her.

It was a white set, all lace that was detailed to look like feathers as it hugged every curve of her body perfectly. She wore a set of garters that attached to the panties, which he was pretty sure were crotch-less and outlined in a pretty gold shimmer.

"I knew you'd like it," Y/N drawled sweetly. The pure innocence that dripped from her tongue would have thoroughly wrecked him had her appearance already not taken care of that. And she seemed to understand how immobile he'd become at the sight of her, because she moved of her own accord, gliding over to him and reaching her hand out to undo his belt. "I'm gonna take your silence as a good sign..."

"You're stunning," he breathed, just barely, and she gave him a smile through softly biting her bottom lip.

"You're too good to me..." Her hands pushed down his loosened slacks and waited until they fell to the floor. And then she hooked her fingers under the waistband of his underwear and leaned into his neck. "And I think your kindness deserves a reward..."

Her lips gently pressed to his neck before she dropped to her knees once again, and as she descended, her hands and his underwear did the same, leaving him completely bare and open for her to do whatever she wanted. No matter how badly he longed to throw her on the bed and get to showing her just how much she'd inhabited his every fiber of being, he didn't dare stop her as her tongue darted out and licked a featherlight line along the length of his hard cock.

He let out a sigh and twitched at her touch, a feat that must have pleased her, because she smiled and hummed happily as she repeated her action. Only, this time her tongue was more firm on him— not teasing anymore, but it brought him to damnation all the same.

And then she fully wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, slowly gliding herself down until he hit the back of her throat.

The sound he made was inhuman.

She wasted no time then, bobbing her head at a steady rhythm and moaning around him as she did so. It didn't take long for saliva to start gathering above her chin and dripping down onto the exposed area of her breasts, just above her bra. Occasionally she would hold him at the back of her throat and choke as she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, and the sight of his little angel happily crying with his dick in her mouth sent Spencer into a tailspin.

But as tempting as it was to paint the back of her throat white, he knew he'd prefer to take that action to a more interesting place. So he pulled away from her and breathed out, "Please, not yet..."

He looked down at her as she smiled, wetness coating her skin in the form of tears on cheeks and saliva on breasts. Her hands rested at the tops of her thighs, even as she stood up and blinked a final stream of tears down her left cheek. "Why, is there somewhere else you'd rather fill me up?"

"Please," was all he said, his breathing labored as he imagined what she would feel like.

Thankfully she seemed to take mercy on him— Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed, where she laid him down at the headboard and straddled his thighs. "As much as I love spreading my legs for you, I think I'd much rather take a ride..."

"Anything you want," he told her, his eyes traveling up the length of her body as she got comfortable. She was, in fact, wearing crotch-less panties, and the feeling that coursed through him at the sight of her glistening pussy in decent lighting (AKA when he wasn't under her skirt in a storage closet) sent him straight to Hell all over again.

He sighed out as she played with herself, gliding her fingers delicately along the planes of her body, from her thighs to her clit, and eventually she gripped his dick to line it up, lifting her hips above him.

"Are you ready?" she asked gently, rolling her hips to slick him up with her arousal.

"Always ready for you, angel..."

The pet name sprung her into action. She sunk down slowly onto him, and he willed his eyes to stay open so he could watch as her mouth dropped open, eyes rolling back into her head as she moaned out deliciously. He let out a groan himself, the feeling of her tightly wrapping around him like velvet almost too much to handle.

"Ohhh, you fill me up so good," Y/N sighed, gently grinding her hips in slow circles as she finally had all of him inside her. "Just like I knew you would..."

Everything she was doing, between the gradual increase of the speed at which her hips rolled and the way she looked down at him with pure desire, had Spencer wondering what he'd ever done without her. What had he known before knowing the feeling of her nails gently digging into the skin of his stomach as she rode him, before knowing the sound of his name falling from her lips in a whisper? It couldn't have been anything good, because as far as he was concerned, she was as good as it would ever get.

But at some point it felt like he needed to take more. She was giving him her body, offering it to him like the most precious gift she had to offer, and yet he wanted to tear into it and leave nothing behind except her voice, calling out his name into the heavens above. He longed to give her something in return, something that would leave her just as ruined as she'd left him.

And, as always, she could tell.

Y/N laughed seductively as she leaned down, her hips still rocking into his. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss to his before she spoke. "Everything alright, baby?"

All he could do was let out a broken moan as she clenched around him on every upstroke.

"Aww... You want more? Huh, you wanna lay me down and give it to me good? Show your little angel what it feels like to be fucked so good she can't even speak?"

"Don't... tempt me," he was finally able to choke out, and she laughed.

"Aww, come on... Show me what you got..."

Spencer wasn't sure when he actually did it, but one second she was nipping at his bottom lip, challenging him to take control, and the next he was on top of her, her legs spread as wide as they could possibly get as he rocked his hips into her at a deep, bruising force.

She laughed amusedly through whimpers of pleasure, her hands spreading out at her sides like wings as he gave her everything he had. Looking down at her, head thrown back and hair fanned around her head like some sort of angelic crown, he soaked it all in and wondered if this was what Heaven was— the feeling of her succumbing to his lust, the sight of her lost in the throes of weeks of pent-up sexual tension that never entirely got released, the sound of her near-incoherently whining at how good he was...

If it wasn't Heaven, it was surely something pretty damn close.

He was almost there, tension stretching out inside the pit of his stomach, when Y/N grabbed one of his hands and brought it to her lower belly. He felt himself slamming into her at full force every time, the small bump against his hand bringing him further along the road of release.

"You feel that?" she whined, keeping his hand there. "You know what that means, don't you?"

It could have meant a lot of things, but his brain was too far gone, lost in in the fog of pleasure to even begin to think about what it was. But then she answered for him, and it was just about the hottest thing he'd ever heard come from her mouth.

"It means I'm all yours... to do whatever you want with... to fill me up with your cum as much as you want... maybe turn your little angel into a mommy..."

With a loud, guttural groan, Spencer held himself still, deep inside her, and gave her every last drop, his hand remained pressed firmly to her stomach. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel his cum spilling out and filling her to the brim through the barrier. She pulsed and came around him at the same time, warmth spreading between the two of them like a drop of water would soak through fabric, until it completely enveloped them like a heavy blanket.

And then they'd given everything, their bodies clinging to each other for dear life as they settled into the gentle aftermath of such a heavy feeling of ardor. Their breaths slowed and their lips explored each other tenderly, hands doing the same until, finally, they felt themselves drifting off.

***

Spencer dreamt of Heaven that night, glimpses of a future he'd always longed for with other people, but that he would get to spend with her.

A wedding dress, white, but haloed by a gold fog as the woman wearing it glided along the aisle and made her way to him.

A house, small, but fenced in and just perfect enough for the two of them and the baby that was on the way.

A picnic table, damp, but drying out in the sun as it gradually became littered with plates of birthday cake and a little candle that was shaped into the number 3.

A woman, old, but beaming as she showed a photo album to her multitudes of grandchildren, telling them stories about the wonderful life she lived with her husband who always called her Angel.

And when he woke up, seeing that old woman as she was now, sleeping in his bed as the sun beamed through the curtains and basked her in a heavenly light, he knew what Heaven really was.

It was her.

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[slytherinwh0re]

Dreams

Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

Warning: SMUT (18+ minors dni) and swearing

Summary: Where Draco has a sex dream about his best friend. (I’m such a sucker for friends to lovers).

Masterlist

A/N: I tried a different writing style so it might be a lil funky, idk, lmk.

(Y/n)’s small hand travelled lower, skimming over the happy trail that leads to his trousers. Her lips brushed his neck making goosebumps rise across his pale skin, every touch from her would send a shock of electricity through his veins. She was an addiction, and Draco had no desire to overcome it.

The sounds she made would play in his head forever, he was sure of it. Their hands were everywhere, needing to touch each other’s skin; their clothes long forgotten on the floor by his bed.

“Ready love?” Draco hovered over her, so close to connecting them in the way he always wanted.

“Wake up dumb ass.” Fucking Theo.

He groaned to himself, embarrassed that he’d had yet another explicit dream about his childhood friend. He wondered what she’d think if she ever found out, in his head every scenario ended in heart break.

***

Draco had successfully avoided her all week, every attempt she’d made to hangout he’d shut her down with some bullshit excuse but he should’ve known (y/n) would do something about it. That’s how the blonde found himself limb locked and being levitated to her dorm. He was pissed but so was she, and fuck did she look sexy.

“Why’re you acting so weird Draco?” She asked after lifting the spell. It’s true, he had been acting strange but how could he not? Every time he looked at his the witch he’d think back to the dreams he’d been having. A hard dick is the last thing he needs right now, especially in a room alone with her.

“I’m not acting weird.” He wasn’t surprised when she rolled her eyes, an unimpressed look on her pretty face.

“Yes you are, and you’ve been avoiding me. Did I do something wrong?” He hated himself for turning into such a sappy fucking git over her but that sad pout cuts straight through him. Immediately he’s pulling her into his chest, arms wrapping around her body.

“Of course you didn’t, I’ve just been having these dreams and I don’t know how to feel about them.” He was practically squirming but he knew he had to explain himself to the girl or she’d think it was her fault he was being so odd. Who would’ve thought Draco Malfoy would feel the need to explain himself to anyone, then again (y/n) wasn’t just anyone to him.

“Well why wouldn’t you just say that? I’ve been running around all week trying to hangout with you and you’ve barely spoken two words to me.” He doesn’t answer, instead he gives her an apologetic look that has her eyes rolling yet again. “Go on then, what’re the dreams you’re having about?”

The slytherin can’t look her in the eye, the thought of telling her makes him cringe but maybe talking about it will make them stop. “They’re actually about you.”

“About me? What about me?” She pauses, a shocked look adorning her face, “are they like-” she waved her finger between the both of them, signaling to what she thinks it is and he nods, knowing she’s already understood. “Oh- OH.”

“(Y/n), if this changes everything I completely understand but I need you to know I can’t help it, that’s why I’ve been avoiding you.” The witch was silent, she just stared at him and he was sure he’d lost her forever.

That’s why he was so stunned when she started making her way over to him, not stopping until their bodies were an inch away from each other’s. Her hands went around his neck and started playing with the hair there, Draco leaned into her, deciding that if this is what he could get he’d take it.

“Tell me what I did in your dreams Draco.” He about lost it when (y/n)’s lips brushed across his neck, her nimble finger still tugging at his hair.

“This. You’d do this.” She hummed against his skin, acknowledging that she’d heard him. Her hands moved down his chest and over his stomach until she reached the hem of his shirt. The girl looked up at him, silently telling him to take it off.

Draco immediately yanked it over his head, only to realize in that second she’d taken hers off as well, now her hand was reaching behind her back, undoing her bra. Every inch of her skin that’s revealed to him chipped away at his self control but he wanted to see how far she’d take this.

Her bra fell to the floor, her nipples were peaked and begging to be played with but before he could move, she was pressed against his chest. Skin on skin, and she’s kissing him.

The boy felt as if he were on fire, his hand pressed against her lower back, pushing her further into him, deepening the kiss. They moved in sync, their tongues tangled together and hands touching bare skin.

“Did we do that in your dreams?” She pulled away, her lips a bit swollen.

“Yes.” Her smile was contagious, he was sure she’d stop there and he was more than happy to but (y/n) was never one to do what was expected. Instead, she started unbuttoning his trousers and kissing her way down his chest until she was on her knees in front of him.

He was speechless, the sight of the topless girl on her knees for him was enough for Draco to die happy. She had her eyes fixed on him when she got his pants down, already rubbing him over his briefs. With one last smirk she was pulling them down.

“And this? Did I do this to you?” His dick was already leaking with precum when she wrapped her lips around him.

“Fuck yes.” Her hand moved in rythm with her mouth, flicking her wrist every time. The combination had him throwing his head back but he lowered it quickly, not wanting to miss a second of his dick in her mouth. Draco grabbed her hair, needing something to hold onto, the small moan she let out vibrated through him.

(Y/n) watched him through her eyelashes, the pleasure etched on his face had her rubbing her thighs together, desperate for any sort of friction. The girl was usually bold but even this was a little far stretched, even for her. She knew that if she hadn’t taken this opportunity to see where things would lead she’d regret it and damn is she happy she did.

The control she had over him in this moment is empowering, to watch Draco Malfoy fall apart because of her is beyond erotic. She hollowed her cheeks, running her tongue up the base with every bob of her head.

She let him out her mouth with a pop, stood back up, and dropped her skirt and panties.

“Let me show you what I do to you in my dreams (y/n).” Draco’s voice was raspy, the desire he felt for her made his mind cloudy.

“Show me.” That’s all it took for them to find her bed, lips locked, and his fingers sliding in and out of her sopping cunt. Her walls clenched his fingers deliciously, his thumb rubbed at her clit in a way that made her chest arch into him. The blonde brings his fingers to his lips, needing to get a taste. One day he’d devour her but for tonight just a taste would do.

“Ready love?” He lines himself up at her entrance, the anticipation for this moment was well worth the wait. To see his girl naked underneath him is an image that’d be burned into his mind forever.

“I’ve always been ready for this.” She kissed at his neck, pulling away to watch as he sank himself into her. They both let out an airy moan, her hands were back in his hair, and his were roaming every inch of her body.

Draco hitched her legs onto his shoulders, his hips setting a fast pace, her moans filling the room. The witch gripped him like a vice, her nails ran down his chest, leaving scratches that would be left as a reminder of this night for the next few days.

Her tits bounced with every deep thrust, (y/n) could feel herself getting close but she wasn’t quite ready for it to be over. Instead she lowered her legs and flipped them over, the new position had her screaming his name.

“Oh, Draco!” She bounced on him faster, eyes never leaving his fascinated ones. He looked at her as is she was the most beautiful girl in the world and in his eyes she is.

Her body was on fire, every time the pretty girl sank down on his cock she felt herself get closer to the edge. The blonde felt her walls begin to flutter, his hands that were situated on her breasts moved so one was toying with her clit and the other was wrapped around her throat.

The combination of her riding him and his hands on her was too much for (y/n), with his encouragement she found herself clenching around him as they came together. Their names leaving each other’s lips as their hips jerked and their vision went white.

“That was better than any dream.” He told her as they caught their breath.

*

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[mxtchalilies]

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ RANDOM HAIKYUU BOYS + A BONDING MOMENT WITH THEIR S/O !

—highlights: oikawa tooru; goshiki tsutomu; sakusa kiyoomi

—word count total: 1.4k words

—notes: fluff; characters x g/n! reader (though afab! for oikawa's with the use of "muse"); headcanons + drabble; use of petnames; a lil messy and quite long; cheesy and ooc (?)

—rimi's letter: this is my first time posting my writing so i apologize if it's sloppy aaa !! might make this hq blog take requests if it's well-received ?

OIKAWA TOORU & UNPLANNED PHOTOSHOOTS ! ༉‧₊˚.

ღ oikawa absolutely adores going on dates with you, his beloved s/o! like, 'literally swooning and bothering iwa-chan about it'-level adores. at some point in the day, his brain starts racking adorable little scenarios of you two going out wherever. you can bet he's going to act upon it and is usually the one initiating it too—oikawa is pretty persuasive when he wants to be ღ whether it's by a chirp of, "i saw this cute cafe nearby, why don't we check it out?" or a little pout of, "angel, can we go out later? i missed you" he just wants to spend time with his sweetheart in a place they'd both like! (and show the world how lucky he is being with you!) he understands if you're busy, though he makes you promise to go on a date soon. but if you agree? his heart is going overdrive from excitement (and poor iwa-chan has to deal with a hyperactive overthinking oikawa... stay strong iwa) ღ the photoshoot part of dates is completely unplanned, usually spurred by the sole instincts of oikawa to snap images. he claims he wants to capture the moment to engrave in his memory (both in his head and his poor phone's memory storage). so when you both went out to a cafe, and he sees the angle of the sun kissing your frame just so perfectly... get ready for several minutes of picture-taking

"tooru, please tell me why you refuse to let me check out the new cake display by the counter for nearly five minutes now?"

oikawa's brown eyes glanced up to look at you briefly, before returning to stare at the screen of his phone. a few seconds of silence hung until you heard a click of the phone's camera, "just one more picture angel, then i'll get you that cake" he responds in a murmur, tilting his phone vertically before groaning in frustration

you couldn't help the small smile creeping onto your lips when you see his scrunched up look and matching pout, "you seem so intent on taking that picture perfectly, 'kawa. what for?"

"because it's a shame if i don't do you justice!" his outburst is equally as frantic as he gestures, pointing to the setting sun and its warm glow, "the sun is practically shining glory onto your beauty—you look like a muse, a deity—and i'd be a fool to let this opportunity pass by just like that!"

now you wonder whether it's the sunset's rays or the blush creeping on your face that's making you heat up. but with the small gasp and immediate shutter of a phone camera, you seem to have gotten your answer

"gosh, you're still pretty even when you're blushing! my pretty angel... oh and for that five minute wait, i'll get you that cake you wanted!"

GOSHIKI TSUTOMU & HAIR-STYLING ! ༉‧₊˚.

ღ first thing's first: he got the idea of styling your hair from two separate events. the first instance was something he didn't pay too much mind: when he read some articles trying to find something cute to do with your s/o (because the baby wants to impress and swoon you). the other instance, which got his attention, was a little quip from tendou about how cute he finds hair-styling ღ goshiki had a brainrot about this, i'm not kidding. he literally looked up techniques on how to braid hair properly, he went on a shopping trip to find some cute hair accessories, he even studied and tried to find out whether a comb or a brush would be more ideal for hair-styling. tendou caught onto what goshiki's planning and acted as the push of confidence he needed. so now the baby's fired up and determined to do it and make the braid the best one you'll lay eyes on! ღ he underestimated anxiety, however, as he practically trips over his feet and jumbles over his words when faced with you. the practice he did in front of the mirror is all for naught when he finds himself mumbling and fumbling, internally scolding himself over how clumsy he now looks. but when your sweet laughter rings through his ears and you actually allowed him to play with your hair? the guy feels like ascending the heavens

the way goshiki threads through your hair is soft, almost featherlight in his touch—very difficult to believe it's the same hand you saw practice sharp and hard-hitting spikes all those months ago

you're quite surprised that he's doing a great job styling your hair. a part of you was expecting a cute attempt in what's supposedly called a "braid" but then again, it's goshiki we're talking about—your sweet, determined, soon-to-be ace boyfriend. he definitely wants to perfect this for you and you seem to have no say out

soon enough you felt your braid being secured using a purple ribbon. as he pulls back, you take in the stars in your boyfriend's eyes—in awe of how pretty you looked because of a braid he managed to perfect. pride swelled in his chest, and a tiny grin broke onto his lips,

"uwoh! I-I did it, I actually did it... I did a perfect braid..!"

giggling, you peck his cheek, "yes you did darling, you did it well. i love it!" your eyes trail to the other untouched ribbon, a sudden idea boiling in your head as your boyfriend blabbers about

you poke him, "tsu-kun?" "yes?" "how would you feel if i did the exact same braid on you?"

goshiki blinked twice before furrowing his eyebrows, "that would... wouldn't that make us have similar braids? we'd be matching—"

realization struck in the form of a blush and all he could muster is a meek and understanding "oh"

SAKUSA KIYOOMI & STAR GAZING ! ༉‧₊˚.

ღ when i tell you that you've got this man wrapped around your finger, you best believe you have him so very smitten to the point he'd try to do things he normally wouldn't—just for you. sakusa tries to be subtle about his gestures but you quickly catch onto it ღ he initially wanted to refuse the request but... it's you—and the little shine of expectancy in your eyes made it even more hard for him to say no to you. he agreed to your one-time request of star gazing under two conditions: you guys lay on a picnic blanket, and that when bugs appear, you guys get back in. (you actually prepared some umeboshi as a final tactic but it turns out you didn't need it. still, you brought some along that night) ღ sakusa actually found himself liking the experience. the tranquil blanket of night facing you both, singing slumbers to everyone under its care. a sea of stars twinkling like decorations, tracing patterns of tales waiting to be read. the atmosphere is much to his liking: just the two of you and the gentle breeze of night. and he gets to witness all of this with you, the one whom he loves so dearly. how can he not be hooked?

"omi, i really think we should've printed out that constellation chart we saw on the 'net..."

you're both laying on your backs with your eyes still focused on the sky even as you feel sakusa intertwine his palm with yours. he chuckled softly, "what makes you say that, dear?"

"we could've tried to spot some constellations! maybe there's actually one we'd see here!" "fine. the next time we do this again, i'll remind you to print it out"

all the words to your response die at your throat and you thought you're going crazy, "kiyoomi... did i hear that right?" you sat up, now looking down directly at him in bewilderment

this was one of the rare moments that sakusa didn't bother to wear his mask out. with the aid of the moon's glow, you can clearly make tell of his emotions. from the squint of his eyes, the furrowing of his eyebrows, and the small downwards curve of his lips—clear confusion is written all over his face

"did you hear what right?"

a sudden wash of hope and excitement brought about a gleeful smile on your face, "you said 'next time we do this'. omi, do you want to go star gazing with me again soon?"

this time, it was him who had to find his words, "i-... s-sure"

sakusa didn't stutter because he was caught and simply embarrassed, no. he was caught off guard over how beautiful you looked. that pure happiness and love in your eyes, a smile so bright he swears it rivals the sun (ironic considering he noticed how the moon gently drapes its light over you too)

if loving you and being with you is all that it takes for you to look at him with such raw love, then by all the stars in the sky he swears to love you forever

! mxtchalilies, 2021. copying, stealing, editing, or using this work in any way without my permission is not allowed. reblogs and shares however, are much appreciated <3

[watermelonlovershigh]

Day in the Life of a Single Dad with a 2 Yr Old

This was requested by this anon.

AN: let me know if you guys like fluff fics & i'll try to write them as frequent as my smut & sicfics. also couldn't come up with a better title so... yeah the title is a lil iffy.

Things to help you understand this story better:

(Harry is a single parent/Harry is 25/Harry is a healthy eater/Loves his daughter so much)

Harry is peacefully sleeping in his bed alone. Covers to his chin, curled up on his side. That is until his beautiful two year old daughter comes barging in there to wake her daddy up. He shouldn't be asleep she thinks. It's too late. In reality its only 7 am on a Saturday, but to an early riser like her, he should be awake and playing with her. Or making her breakfast.

Her little feet pad over to her daddy's side of the bed. She can barley reach him due to the height of his bed, but manages to stretch her little arms up and taps on Harrys face. "Daddy, wake up." she speaks in her little British accent. Harry slowly opens his eyes and immediately squeezes them shut because of the sunlight coming from the window blinding him. "Daddy!!" his daughter says a little louder.

If his daughter was any older, Harry might tell her to wait a few minutes or go back to bed because it's too early, but he knows she's only 2. So he forces his eyes open again and reaches down to hook his hands in her tiny arm pits to lift her on the bed. "Why are you awake so early babe." he asks in a gravely voice, while placing her on his bare chest.

"I hungry." her tiny voice replies.

"Mhmm what would you like?" Harry mumbles sleepily.

"Sweets." she says innocently.

"I don't think so love. We don't eat sweets for breakfast. It will give you a tummy ache. What about a healthy fruit salad. We have some Watermelon and Strawberries in the fridge." he replies to his daughter who's straddling his chest.

"NO, I WANT SWEETS! I WANT SWEETS!" she yells back with angry tears threatening to escape.

"D/n, we do not yell!" her father speaks firmly. "We can't have sweets but we can have something other than a fruit salad if you want. Lets go down and see what we have." With a tight grip on his upset daughter, Harry gets out of bed and makes his way down the spiral staircase and into the kitchen.

This wasn't something new to him. Ever since his daughter turned 2 in August, she's been acting up a lot more than previously. You could say it was the terrible twos everyone talks about. Harry tries his hardest to teach her the proper ways to behave but it's been proven to be a lot more difficult than anticipated. Especially hard when he's busy all the time and isn't with her 24/7 like stay-at-home mums are or stay-at-home dads were. He's a musician. Not a so called musician that gets excited to book a Friday night at the local pub. No, Harry is a international pop star.

When he ended up getting a one-night stand pregnant, he told them they could do what they wanted as far keeping the baby or not. Harry has always been one to agree that its a women's choice. But his one-night stand wanted to have the baby. Honestly, you'd think Harry would get angry that she decided to keep it, but he wasn't. Maybe it wasn't the ideal situation to have a baby from a one-night stand that he had on tour, but he being the loving Harry everyone seems to know and love, of course tried to look at it as a positive thing. But when his daughter was born, his one-night stand got her minute of fame by saying she had Harry Styles baby and left. Abandoned her own blood. Harry had to get full custody of his daughter and ever since then she's been living with her daddy.

It was really hard the first few months of her life. A baby needs their mothers comfort and warmth and she had none of that. She never got the opportunity to breast feed or feel the love of her mother, and Harry feels sick just thinking about it. So Harry put his career on hold for a few months to take care of his daughter and show her that someone cares for her. He never wanted her to feel unloved. It was his biggest fear. That's why every day since the day she was born, he tells her how much he loves her. Shows her how much he loves her.

He did all her nightly feedings with warmed up formula in bottles. He changed her diapers at all hours of the day. He gave her baths every day to make sure she smelled nice and clean. And when she turned 1 years old and was getting more active, he took her to the studio with him and let her play her toys.

Just because Harry is a single parent doesn't mean he doesn't have help or support. He has a lot of help when it comes to taking care of his daughter. His sister Gemma babysits all the time for him when he's got something very important to do at the studio where he'd prefer if his daughter wasn't there. Harry's mum watches his daughter frequently when he has a interview he needs to attend. Even some of Harry's friends watch or take care of her when needed. Especially some of his ex bandmates that have kids of their own now. Harry's daughter has playdates with Bear, Liam's son about once a month. They're about the same age and their dads are friends so it works out great. His daughter has even played with Freddie, Louis's son. Not as much because Freddie lives in America but when he comes to England to spend time with his father they hang out. Freddie and Harry's daughter are quite similar. They were both created due to a one-night stand. The only difference is Freddie's mum wanted him. Didn't abandon him. So he has a relationship with both parents. Needless to say, besides all the things a mother can give to their child, his daughter has a good life. People love her, and once again that's all Harry could ask for. People and himself to love his daughter.

After fighting with his daughter about what to eat for breakfast, she finally settles for some Strawberry pancakes as long as they have chocolate syrup on top. Harry gives in and allows a little chocolate for her to have with breakfast. She sits in her high chair munching on the pancakes while Harry cleans the mess from cooking. Like washing the pan and wiping the stove off. When he's finished cleaning, he notices his daughter has stopped eating and is just making a mess with her food at this point.

Walking up to her high chair, Harry bends down and lifts her sticky body up and says, "Alright, time to give you a bath little one."

"No bath daddy! Me no want a bath!" she yells and attempts to kick her fathers legs but Harry grabs ahold of them in his big hand and stops her movements which makes her small body more angry. She screams very loud in his ear and pounds her baby fist in his shoulders, expressing her anger. Harry really wants to get upset. But what he's read in parenting books is that if you ignore their behavior and act like you don't see their tantrums, it will make it better and they'll give up on trying so hard to show their anger.  Because most toddlers have tantrums to try and get attention from their parent(s). By ignoring it, you're not feeding into it.

"I'm sorry but you have chocolate all over you love. Need to get you clean because I need to take you to the studio for a few hours with me today. How does that sound?" trying to make bath time and going to the studio sound fun.

After fighting with Darcy to get in the bath, Harry finally got her in the tub. He struggled to wash her curly hair due to the fact she wouldn't sit still, even after he gave her a rubber ducky to play with. Once he's washed her hair and chocolate covered body, Harry picks her up and wraps her in a big fluffy towel, then takes her to her room to get changed. He manages to get a pull up on her, (still trying to potty train), and puts a lovely red track suit on her with some Gucci shoes. Then he carries her in front of the bathroom mirror to brush her hair.

"Be good for daddy and let me brush your hair." Harry tells his daughter in a gentle manner.

As soon as he passes the brush in her hair, his daughter screams, "Owww, it hurts daddy!"

10 minutes later, Harry has brushed her locks and put her hair into some cute pigtails. With his 2 year old crying in the process. He's pretty good at doing hair because he used to have longer hair himself. Then he picks her up off the counter and places her on the ground, walking her to his bedroom.

"Can you lay in my bed while I get ready? I'll put on your favorite show." he questions calmly.

"Peppa Pig, Peppa Pig, Peppa Pig!" is daughter chants.

"Alright, alright." He picks up his baby girl and sets her in the middle of his bed. Then he grabs the remote to turn his wall mounted tv on. He scrolls on Netflix and finds Peppa Pig to keep her occupied. Then goes to his bathroom to get dressed and ready to head to the studio.

When he exits his bathroom fully dressed and ready to leave, he finds a sleeping toddler on his bed, snuggled into his pillow. Her perfectly outlined lips slightly parted. Harry can't help but smile. He loves his baby girl with his entirety and seeing her peaceful like this makes him so happy. He turns the tv off and carefully picks her up into his arms and heads down the stairs to his car in the garage. But not before stopping by her room to pick up her mini backpack that holds extra pullups and a sippy cup full of juice, with some of her toys as well. Her tiny face is stuffed into her daddy's neck and Harry can feel light puffs of air hitting his skin. He puts his daughter in her car seat and buckles her up properly. Then gets in himself to drive to the studio.

About 5 minutes away from the studio, Darcy wakes up from her late morning nap and whines out, "Me wanna go home and play with you!"

"I'm sorry but I have to work for a little bit. I'll play with you when we get home later. How does that sound Hmm?" She was not satisfied with her fathers answer and starts wailing. Hot salty tears run down her little cheeks and she makes exaggerated sounds to emphasize her crying. She kicks at the seat in front of her and balls her fist up as if she's going to hit something but unfortunately to her, she can't reach a single thing due to her seat belt. Once again, Harry just ignores her cries of anger and turns the radio on loud to block it out.

By the time they arrive at the studio, Harry's daughter has calmed down. She's still upset but at least she isn't crying and that's progress in Harry's eyes. He parks his car in a secluded area to hide from potential paparazzi and unbuckles her. Then shields her face form potential cameras and make their way into the music studio. Harry has to record some audio for his newest album so that's why he needed to come in today. They enter the studio where the rest of his solo band is. He prefers to record the instruments live instead of manufactured drums and guitars.

At some point when he was getting ready in his home bathroom, Harry had called his assistant and told her he needed to bring his daughter in to the studio with him so she could watch her while he's busy. She agreed but being Harry Styles assistant, it wasn't really an option. Not that Harry would force her but she's an assistant for a reason. To do jobs Harry assigns her. In this case babysit his toddler while he records a song. He doesn't have anyone else today and unfortunately can't leave her at home with a mummy like many other fathers can. He's just happy his job allows his daughter to be somewhat a part of it. Not in the spotlight because he keeps his daughters identity a secret from the public for her protection, but as far as her going to the studio with him or when she gets older, she can come on tour with him.

Harry's assistant takes his toddler and her mini backpack full of her essentials. They hang out in the open area, out of the way from his band and he himself so he can get what he needs to get done so they can wrap everything up for the album. Harry's daughter actually loves his assistant. They have grown quite close over the 2 years of her life. But because she's going through her terrible twos, the toddler didn't want to behave for anyone today.

About an hour into Harry's work, he's interrupted with a frantic assistant that has a screaming toddler in her arms. "I'm sorry Harry but she's been crying for about 30 minutes and I've done everything I know to do to get her to calm down." Harry isn't upset his assistant came to him for help with his baby. That's not the type of guy he is.

Harry takes off his headphones and walks over to them. He picks his little girl up into his tattooed arms and questions, "Love, why are you upset for? If you keep crying, you'll end up with a tummy ache."

She just hugs around her fathers neck with her little arms and says, "Want you daddy." Those words almost breaks his heart. Harry doesn't know where this sudden want for him has came from.

"You can have me all you want when I'm finished working, alright. I'll be done shortly." He struggles to pass her back over to his assistant, but finally manages. "Maybe she's hungry. I'll give you a few pounds to take her through drive thru at McDonalds. Would you like McDonalds d/n?" She just nods her pigtailed head. He would suggest for them to go inside, but the public knows what his assistant looks like so they'd know that was his daughter. The daughter that has her identity secret for now. His assistant takes the toddler to the McDonalds drive thru and orders her some chicken nuggets. Even through Harrys pescatarian, he still allows his daughter to eat meats. Then Harry goes back to work in the studio.

Around 2 in the afternoon, Harry and the two year old make it back home. The rest of the evening was a little hectic with a few tantrums here and there. Harry cooked them a nice meal for dinner at about 6 and played dolls with her in the short period of time she wasn't upset. Then comes the dreaded bedtime.

Harry changes her into some pjs and helps her brush her teeth. Then when he went to put her in bed, she started crying for the 100th time today. "Me sleep with you daddy." she cries out. There's a part of him that wants to say yes and cave in, but the parent part of him is saying no. She needs to learn to be a big girl. Harry really doesn't understand why she wants to sleep with him all the sudden. She normally has no problem sleeping by herself.

"No baby. You need to be a big girl and sleep in your bed sweetheart. I'm right next door if you need me though okay." His daughter clings to his body and cries fat tears. Harry decides to stay in her room until she falls asleep. So that's what he does. When she subsumes to sleep, he lays her down in her bed and pulls the covers up over her frail body. Then exits her room quietly.

Harry changes into some comfier clothes himself and goes down stairs to get himself a glass of wine. Then he sits on the sofa and turns a series on to watch before bed. Times like now is when  he wishes he had a wife. He'd even take a girlfriend. Just someone to hold him late at night and cuddle with him. Even have some type of intimacy. Ever since he found out about his daughter, Harrys game of sleeping around stopped. He didn't want to keep sleeping with random girls when he was becoming a dad. He was raised better than that. So needless to say he was lonely. In every way possible. Mentally, and physically.

Whilst in the middle of the show he's watching, Harry is brought back to reality when he hears a blood-curdling scream from up the stairs. He rushes to set his wine down on the coffee table and runs to his daughters room. When he walks in there, his heart sinks. The toddler is crying so hard she's gasping for air. It's a different cry that he's seen through-out the day. Unlike her terrible twos tantrums, this cry sounds like she's scared. Harry runs to her and picks her up. "Hey what's wrong my love? Tell daddy what's wrong." he asks of his child, soothing her to his chest.

As her tears slow down in the comfort of her daddy's arms, she mumbles, "You left me." Once again Harrys confused because she never acts like this.

Harry walks out her bedroom and goes to sit with her on the sofa downstairs. Then he turns her around on his lap to look at her face more clearly. "Baby, you need to tell daddy why you got scared or why you want me all the sudden."

The little 2 year old takes a deep breath and speaks in her little accent, "On Peppa Pig, they...they said kids like me are supposed to have a mummy AND a daddy. They said daddies can't love their babies like mummy's can. Me was scared you don't love me anymore." Her voice cracked saying the last bit with fresh tears running down her face and Harry has glossy eyes looking down at his distressed but beautiful mini twin. That's right. They look almost exactly alike. He thanks God every day for that because he doesn't want to look at his daughter and be reminded of a one-night stand that's a piece of shit of a mother.

"Look at me d/n. I love you so so so much. I will NEVER stop loving you." at this point he has to take a deep breath so compose his emotions, "And not all kids have mummies. There are a lot of kids who just have a daddy or some just have a mummy. But it doesn't mean I love you any less. Okay?! Don't listen to what they said in Peppa Pig. They were wrong." Finishing his speech, Harry pulls her tiny body forward and hugs her to his warm chest. He has silent tears running down his face. Both hands spread over her boney back. He thinks tonight is appropriate enough to allow her to sleep with him. She needs comfort. "Would you still like to sleep with me?" he asks in a whisper.

"Pleaseee." she responds while crying. Harry stands form the couch, turning the television off and abandoning his barley touched wine glass, and goes to his bedroom. The turns the overhead light off and walks over to the bed. Peeling the covers back, Harry and his daughter, whose on his chest, slide under the warm blankets together. Now she has just about stopped crying. Just little whimpers leaving her body, along with a few hiccups. Harry reaches over to turn the lamp off, leaving the room completely dark. He shushes his baby until her eyes slowly close and she falls asleep with her face burred in his neck and arms around his neck. Her short legs lay limp over his stomach.

Harry has a difficult time falling asleep that night. He feels sorry for his baby girl because he worries that movies and shows with two parents will make her sad and left out because she doesn't have a mummy. He just prays she will see all she'll ever need is her daddy to protect her and love her for the rest of eternity.

MASTERLIST & My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST

[ginnyweasely]

SHE [draco malfoy x reader]

pairings: draco malfoy x reader

warnings: just a lil swearing that’s all, lots of fluff?

summary: based on “she” by harry styles, reader appears in draco’s dreams and draco wants those dreams to become reality.

word count: 2.8k+

songs to listen to: she by harry styles  also the slowed version

A/N: bold italics are the lyrics, and normal italics are just memories<3 hope y’all enjoy this quick scrap that I had in mind when listening to she!! my requests are open, send requests HERE and FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS WELCOMED!

Nine in the morning

The man drops his kids off at school

And he's thinking of you

Like all of us do

It was 9 AM, Draco awoke in a groan, he did not wanna be up, he wanted to sleep and  live in that dream world again.. He got up quick, so quickly that it made him feel a little dizzy in the head or maybe just maybe it was that Draco’s mind was still fumbled about the dream he had.. 

The dream that had him wanting to never wake up.. He wished he could see that dream every night, the one where he had you. You were finally his, he didn’t wanna be possessive but he couldn’t help it, even in his dreams and in his fantasies, you were his, his boyfriend, his lover, not for anyone else.

This time it wasn’t a nightmare, his dream. It was a vision where all his fantasies were fulfilled. He dreamt of you in a way that fulfilled his desires. Your head at his lap just laying there softly, as he smiled at the view in front of him, gently taking his hands softly to your Y/HC, stroking it as softly as he could, fearing his hand would stroke too hardly and end up hurting you.

Draco noticed you basically purring under his touch, closing your eyes as he was was stroking your hair softly, making you sleepy.  Draco noticed your bright but not too bright pinkish cheeks, he smiled at the thought of you blushing under his touch, he wanted his hands to stroke against his cheek but didn’t wanna ruin this position he was in, so he just kept stroking your hair, and stared at you lovingly, your eyes fluttered a little to look at the boy, he smiled at you in which you returned the smile, as the two lovers gazed into each other for a long time. He noticed the dimple on your face once again, that little dimple that always appeared when you were smiling, even if it was a little smile.

He loved it, he loved your entire face, he loved your silky shiny hair, he loved the sound of your laugh filling his ears, it gave him joy. He loved meeting you in his dreams like this. He wished that they were real, he wished that when he woke up from those dreams, you would be right there with him on the bed, your arms on his neck, snoring lightly as you were cuddled on to his side. He smiled at the thought, but he knew it was too good to be true.

This brief dream was one that Draco could not shake out of his mind. He sat there on his bed for a while. Trying to think of ways to get you out of his mind.

Sends his assistant for coffee in the afternoon.                                           

Around 1:32. Like he knows what to do.                                                        

She (she).                                                                                                          

She lives in daydreams with me (she)

It was around 1 PM now, Draco wanted nothing more than for this day to be over, he was exhausted from the classes, and he couldn’t even get to see you today, as the class was over Draco got his books and walked down the corridors, happy that he was done for the day, but not as happy because he couldn’t see you.

He thought he could shake his mind off of you by going to the common room of his house, Slytherin and hanging around with his friends, he hoped, he hoped it would get his mind off of you. 

Draco walked sluggishly to the common room basically throwing himself on the couch as his housemates laughed at the boy, “You seem tired, Dray.” Pansy said in a low voice and in a flirty way, Draco didn’t have any energy nor any mind to deal with Pansy as he just simply murmured a single “Yes.”  Pansy brushed off the boy’s behavior as the group started chatting, Draco first tried to join in, but then after a while his mind started drifting, drifting towards one thing it shouldn’t have drifted to.

Y/N. He remembered the first time he saw her.

She's the first one that I see

And I don't know why

I don't know who she is (she, she)

It wasn’t actually the first time, but he didn’t know who she was after a while of noticing her out on the hallways, he first noticed her in the potions class. When the two were paired. 

Draco didn’t know who she was and did not bothered to ask, but he was surprised at the girl’s kind gestures while he was being an arse, she didn’t care about his behavior, she was kind to him because she treated everyone like she wanted to be treated, and that right there shocked him to his core, she was the opposite of him, and it boggled his mind, she also was terrific at potions, and he could tell that she cared about her studies, and looked so focused on everything she did, she had this focused face with his mouth almost open and her tongue was sticking out to the side, it made Draco chuckle. 

He was fascinated by the soft eyed girl. She smelled amazing, unfortunately they were only paired up 3 or 4 times.

That wasn’t enough for Draco, he wanted to hear her sweet laugh everyday, hell he wanted to make her laugh everyday, he liked her too much to be away from her, the girl seemed to like the boy, it was obvious, they had great chemistry and great chat at the lessons, but Draco always wondered if she liked her the same way he did. But because of his stupid pride he never tried out his chances.

Draco’s mind was back to reality as he heard that sweet laugh, his head immediately popping up as he saw the girl in his common room.. he was confused as to why she was there.. 

But he didn’t wanna ruin the sweet moment of his day, the moment where he saw Y/N, you were looking as beautiful as ever as you were surrounded by your friends, you were chatting with them as Draco watched you and tried his best to also avoid eye contact, he couldn’t handle the humiliation if you ever caught him staring, you brushed your hair out of your face tucking it behind your ear as you laughed at your friends and started talking about... something. 

Draco couldn’t remember what it was because his knees grew weak at the girl.

He then turned his gaze away from you, as he realized he was staring much longer than he intended to. He sighed as his mind was scrambled up with you. He was frustrated at himself for always having you in his mind, in fact he remembered about that one thing that he still was kind of embarrassed about, he blushed at the memory and mentally cursed himself for remembering embarrassing things out of nowhere.

It was the game of a quidditch match, Slytherin were up against Ravenclaw, Draco was Slytherin’s seeker and it seemed that he was doing quite well.

Everyone was counting on him, girls were throwing themselves at him, boys were praising him, these incidents made Draco cocky, let’s be honest he was already a bit egoistical, and these compliments adding up made him too cocky, he knew he could win this, he kept thinking that as he was sure of himself.

They entered the Quidditch arena, and the match started Draco was focusing on the Golden Snitch, but much to his luck, he spotted you out of the corner of his eye, and because of his stupid stupid obsession and him being absolutely head over heels for you, made him turn his face to you, entirely forgetting about his mission.

You were surprised as the boy was smiling and waving at you, a bright color of red rised to your cheeks as you smiled and waved at the boy back, but it kept him too distracted as few of his team mates and the opposed team were flying right by him in a full speed that caused the boy to lose his balance, almost falling, the entire crowd laughing at the boy. 

He embarrassedly gained his balance and still, for some reason his eyes searched for you, his eyes found you, staring into them in a soft way, she returned the gaze with a smile and thumbs up showing her full support, he smiled lovingly at the girl. He caught the golden snitch at that game, but he would still blush about that one embarrassing moment.

He decided he couldn’t take this anymore so he slowly got up from his seat, excusing himself from his friends, he was trying to avoid being seen by Y/N so he could walk to his dorm and drown in his thoughts, but it was too late. “Oh, Draco hey!” Y/N said in a giggly soft tone as Draco turned around to face her, not being able to stop smiling at her he greeted her politely.

“Soo, what are you up to?” Her voice was full of energy, which was surprising and new to Draco, that’s why he loved hearing her voice, it made him feel more lively. “Uhh nothing just- um was gonna go back to my dorm.” 

Draco tried his best not to stammer but it was obvious he kinda failed, Y/N didn’t mind and smiled once again kindly to the boy, “I best not bother you then!” Her voice sounded chippy, and Draco knew she could never bother her, he wanted to be with her every minute, scratch that every fucking second. 

But he shook of his thoughts as he could only say “Oh no worries, uhm I’ll just- I’ll go then.” the words didn’t come out of his mouth so confidently so his attitude was confusing to him.  But she smiled at the boy as he excused himself.

He takes a boat out

Imagines just sailing away (away, away)

And not telling his mates (not telling his mates)

He wouldn't know what to say (wouldn't know what to say, to say)

Draco went to his dorm feeling more stupid than ever, he wished he didn’t have his stupid pride so he could ask you out. 

He wished he could be with you. Sometimes he wondered what would happen if out of nowhere he asked you to run away with him, get out of everything. 

So you both could be together, with no worries in your mind, nothing but just each other, he wanted you all to himself, not tell anyone anything and just disappear, with you, with his “girlfriend”. He had that thought too many times.

But as usual he knew that was a thought that was never gonna happen, for fuck’s sake the boy couldn’t even talk to you properly, he was stammering his words, which Draco almost never did that, not with anyone.

 He always had crushes then and there but it was never as strong as this one. You were on his mind all the time, and he hated that. He wanted to hate you so he could keep you off his mind. But you were nearly impossible to hate.

She (she)

She lives in daydreams with me (she)

She's the first one that I see

And I don't know why

I don't know who she is (she)

She (she)

She's the first one that I see (she)

She lives in daydreams with me

And I don't know why

I don't know where she is (she, she)

Draco wanted to take a nap, with the hopes of seeing you in his dreams, with the hopes of you being his, his girlfriend in his dreams. He wanted to hold you, even if it could only happen in his dreams, he wanted to kiss your little nose and bop it as you giggled at his child likeness. 

He wanted to hold you in his arms, not too tightly but soft enough to make him feel comfortable and safe, he wanted to smell your beautiful hair and stroke his hands through it, feeling as if he had found peace, as if he was in heaven.

He wanted to walk with you hand in hand in school corridors, imagining how every guy would be jealous of him, how everyone could see that you were his girlfriend, he wanted to show you off to everyone, he wanted you to be his. 

He wanted nothing more than to spend every waking minute with you, hanging out in the common room with you, spending time alone in his dorm with you, cuddled up to each other as he watched you take a nap in his arms, smiling at the gorgeous girl in front of him.

Hell he even wanted to read some of your stupid books or even better read it out to you so he could do the things you loved. He wanted so much with you. But he just couldn’t bring himself to it, so he just did what he could do best.

Meet with you in his dreams.

Lives for the memory

A woman who's just in his head (Just in his head)

And she sleeps in his bed (His bed)

While he plays pretend (Pretend)

So pretend (Pretend)

This dream he had was something else. This time he couldn’t shake this dream, it was perfect, he couldn’t have had it better, it was him finally asking you out, you two going on cute dates, him doing everything he dreamed of doing with you, him holding you, comforting you, both of you being there for each other. 

This dream was exactly what he has always desired, but it was just a dream, that thought infuriated him, he wanted more, he was tired of the dreams, he wanted you, in reality. He had to do something he knew that. 

He got out of his bed, in an anger, angry at himself for being a huge pussy and not doing anything this whole time, he quickly checked the mirror to fix his look because a 3 hour nap can really fuck you up.

He quickly left his dorm, door shutting as he exited, he literally speed through the stairs, almost tripping because of his speed, he looked for you at the common house but of course you weren’t there, it had been 3 fucking hours, he mentally cursed himself as he wandered around the castle, his eyes searching for you hell even asking for you to people around. 

He saw one of your friends as he approached your friend to ask for you, your friend was dumbfounded by the boy in front of him but pointed her finger to a Y/N sitting on the entrance of the castle with a book in your hand. Draco hurriedly went by your side.

She (She), she lives in daydreams with me (She)

She's the first one that I see, and I don't know why

I don't know who she is (She, she)

She (She), she's the first one that I see (She)

She lives in daydreams with me, and I don't know why

I don't know where she is (She, she)

“Y/N” he said as he smiled at your concentrated face, “Draco.” she smiled at the boy in front of her as she got up leaving the book on the ground, fixing herself up. Draco got closer to her just a mere inches away from her and she felt her breath hitch. “Do you n-need anything?” She said stammering as she was confused but excited by the boy’s actions.

“Just this.” Draco said as he closed the little gap in front of them by smashing his lips onto Y/N’s, Y/N was surprised at first unable to react to Malfoy, but she eventually comprehended everything and Draco could feel her lips moving against his, the feeling of her soft lips against Draco’s made his knees grew weaker, he was internally freaking out as he finally got the courage to do what he wanted, he happily kissed her, mouths intertwined with each other, Draco groaned a little when Y/N pulled away, having some questions for the boy.

But the boy, gave her no time for anything as he was on a confident roll, and did not want that to go away “Do you wanna go out with me? Like maybe tomorrow at Hogsmeade’s?” He said wanting to sound confident but the words coming out of his mouth were very quick, causing Y/N to comprehend what just happened.

Y/N looked at the boy confused at first, but then a smile formed onto her lips, showing off the dimples Draco would die for, “I would pretty much love that, Malfoy.” The girl said as she pulled Draco for another kiss.

[justmaybee]

Feather Sensitive

Summary: Oh, Yamaguchi’s really done it this time. He should just keep his mouth shut from now on. Unfortunately, that’s the exact opposite of what Hinata wants.

A/N: Y’ello! Another off-brand one, but hopefully a fandom peeps recognize. I haven’t seen Haikyuu in a lil, but I love Yamigoops and this has been 90% done for forever so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Based entirely off the second headcanon here, by @ticklishnonsense — absolutely loved it and you can tell cuz I wrote this ages ago for no other reason than having it written down for myself~

A big thank you to OP for letting me use her work as inspiration!!

———

This was a mistake. This was a mistake. This was a mistake.

Yamaguchi can’t will his mind into more elaborate thought, because it’s all just suddenly sunken in.

Hinata’s weight, heavy but not uncomfortable, resting snug on his hips. The loose tank top, just slightly too big on him, stolen out of Kageyama’s stuff at some point during one sleepover or another. And that ridiculously giant feather Hinata’s got poised between his fingers, like it’s a quill and Yamaguchi is a trembling, twitchy sheet of parchment about to be marked up.

When had he told Hinata? Why had he told Hinata?

Tsukki had figured it out, years and years ago; during one of their many one-sided tickle fights, Yamaguchi thinks. It’s been used against him for as long as he can remember, stray fluff from down pillows and blankets brushed over his neck or feet to pull a sudden and squeaky laugh. He’s never, ever told Tsukki just how much it really tickled though, and Tsukki never asked.

So why did he have to go and mention this to a person just as skilled and merciless in tickling people—often Yamaguchi people—into boneless puddles of teary, hysterical laughter?

It’s got to be Hinata’s charm. If Tsukishima has his cold, borderline apathetic, poise to lay base for his killer teasing method, then Hinata’s strength comes in his natural curiosity. Wide eyes, a light voice, and an openness that makes Yamaguchi feel like he can talk to him.

This, apparently, is not the case in a topic involving feathers. Because Yamaguchi will apparently lose all sense of self-preservation and voice his thoughts on how unbearably sensitive he is to a thing most people will flinch at and brush away like nothing.

But of course, it’s too late for him to realize his mistake now. It wasn’t until Hinata came barreling down the hall, shopping bag in hand, to tackle Yamaguchi to the living room carpet that things started rolling into motion.

Now Hinata’s got Yamaguchi pinned, arms under his knees and a big, big smile stretched over his face. It’s so genuine and excited that Yamaguchi finds himself getting a little lost in it, at least until the feather comes back into focus.

“I mean come on, Yamaguchi.” Hinata holds the quill of the feather and traces the soft end up his own arm, dusting it over his collarbone and getting just a hint of a twitch out of his lips before twirling it between his fingers. “I almost think that you’re lying to me.”

But his face must convince Hinata otherwise, because he doesn’t look like he thinks it’s a lie. The tracing of the feather, even along Hinata’s skin has Yamaguchi twitching, breathing funny. Goosebumps rise along his arms, and Hinata is so riled up with energy—so ready to take Yamaguchi apart—that it’s practically impossible for the brunette to even try and stop the wobbly smile making its way onto his face.

Hinata is the one to burst the bubble of anticipation building slowly in Yamaguchi’s gut. He laughs, a delighted little sound, commenting on the cute pink of Yamaguchi’s blush before he goes in for the kill. And Yamaguchi has never been that great at holding back his reactions, especially when he’s already a tense and flustered mess untouched, so the result is pretty immediate.

The first giggle slips hesitantly out of his throat but clears the way for many more as Hinata gently traces the base of his neck, skimming over his collarbones like even a feather could break them if used too harshly.

It’s a little timid, a little reserved, which is a major change of pace from Hinata’s usual quick and dirty way of fighting. He’s always had a ‘take no prisoners’ sort of approach to a tickle fight; either win outright or die trying, but the new method seems to slow him down a bit.

He’s thinking, watching. And luckily, for him and most certainly not Yamaguchi, the change seems to work really well with the soft touch of the feather. Pulling giggle after giggle from his victim and making him sputter at the attention when he realizes how closely he’s being observed.

The plume travels slowly up Yamaguchi’s neck, high enough that he’s able to jerk his head to block out either side as it passes. Unfortunately, that just causes Hinata to speed up the back and forth strokes, attempting to dodge Yamaguchi’s blocks. And it’s effective and so much more ticklish, Yamaguchi chokes on his sudden snort and tosses his head back on impulse, laughter getting louder and more desperate as Hinata takes advantage of the newly exposed skin.

He keeps at it until Yamaguchi feels light-headed, a little delirious with his laughter completely unchecked. The feather strays to flick up over his ear, and the whimpering laugh that comes out keeps Hinata there until Yamaguchi’s shoulder is twitching spastically of its own accord, desperately trying to stop the light, constant brush over his sensitive skin.

He gets a break—thank God—after a few minutes of this. Being dubbed most ticklish in the house (after many, many tests) has left him with pretty high stamina. But somehow a few minutes of Hinata and a feather has him panting for breath like he’d just finished a hundred laps around the gym.

Yamaguchi is so caught up in catching his breath (and trying to calm that tic in his shoulder) that he doesn’t really think about how breaks aren’t much of Hinata’s style either.

His floaty mind comes to bite him when he feels two soft points of contact touch down on his wrists.

His arms jolt on instinct. His elbows move a smidge in either direction but stick firm to the ground. Hinata’s smile takes on a wicked gleam and...oh boy.

If Yamaguchi gets out of this alive, the others will have some real competition for scariest tickler.

The feathers sweep back and forth, back and forth over his arms. They start at the wrist, and would almost feel nice if not for the impending sense of doom that has blood rushing through Yamaguchi’s ears right now.

The swaying movement drifts up, painfully slow. He doesn’t even think it tickles that much right now, but that doesn’t stop him from physically biting his lip to stop the snickers from making their way out.

It’s when the pair reach his inner elbow that first crack appears. Yamaguchi gasps and Hinata perks up, keeping the feathers there a moment longer, letting them sweep side to side a little faster.

From there the cracks spiderweb exponentially.

The gasp ends up turning into a snort. As Himata continues his path upward, it becomes a whine. And when he’s at the faint line where his skin darkens with a tan, from long summer days spent out in a t-shirt, he decides to flick the feathers in an alternating pattern over either arm.

It has Yamaguchi rocking back and forth in a way that he guesses might look kind of funny. Hinata starts laughing anyways. And of course, it’s enough to get Yamaguchi’s lips to loosen and let out the stream of bubbling giggles he’s been suppressing for far too long already.

His arms feel warm, almost as hot as his face, even though their air conditioning has been working pretty decently lately. There’s a faint tingly feeling still left where the feathers had once brushed his skin.

Everything already feels so sensitive, and Hinata isn’t even there yet.

There are butterflies having a—a mosh pit in his stomach right now. He can’t remember the last time he felt so wound up getting tickled. Then again, he can’t remember the last time Hinata put this much...care? Is that the right word for this situation? —into destroying him.

It makes Yamaguchi a little happy, for some reason.

And sometime about that moment seems to be the limit for Hinata’s concentration, because the change from gentle, teasing touches to his usual form of attack is both quick and excruciating.

The moment after, when Yamaguchi suddenly has two feathers sweeping fast little strokes under his arms, his brain completely short circuits.

What leaves his mouth can only be called a shriek and it’s quickly drowned out by the squeaky, panicked laughter that floods the room immediately.

His chest is jerking side to side in vain. There’s hair in his eyes and a little in his mouth from how violently he’s tossing his head around, but he can’t register a thing beyond the millions of wispy, light strands fluttering a fast track over and over and over the soft and sensitive skin beneath his restrained arms.

Hinata gets the bright idea to not try and jam the delicate things towards the floor anymore. He instead tries twirling them in a circular motion in the spaces underneath Yamaguchi’s arms.

Yamaguchi didn’t think his voice was high enough to screech like he used to, but ‘Hey, you learn something new everyday,’ he thinks, entirely delirious.

His back arches off the ground, head tossing back then pressing into his shoulder as if it’ll somehow smother his hysterical laughter.

It’s bright and desperate and so, so loud. Yamaguchi would typically only reach this point when someone’s feeling particularly ruthless with plenty of time to spare, but it could be hours since Hinata first got him pinned down; it sure feels like it.

There are weird little squeaks that pierce the air when he’s got the breath. His limbs are doing this constant squirm that’s got him feeling hot all over. His lashes feel wet and he knows it’s a matter of seconds before the tears start to fall.

But nothing is more prominent than the feeling of soft, soft, so very soft; and it tickles, it tickles, it really tickles.

———

When Yamaguchi’s brain finally starts rebuilding from the mush, hiccuping giggles making their way through his gasps for breath, he feels Hinata still sitting on top of him. Thankfully—mercifully—though, the feathers are nowhere to be seen, and his hands have been let free.

Seeing Hinata’s hand in his peripheral makes him flinch, but he just wipes at Yamaguchi’s cheek, brushing away the leftover moisture.

“I had to stop because you were starting to look like a strawberry,” Hinata grins. His skin is cool against Yamaguchi’s. He leans into the touch.

“So...was that awesome or what?” Hinata continues, voice energetic though he still rubs a soothing motion over Yamaguchi’s cheek.

Yamaguchi takes a second to reflect. On the dreamy tiredness seeping into his bones, the floaty high that fills up his head.

He nods, once or twice. Though from where Hinata’s sitting, it could just be Yamaguchi nuzzling into his hand. That’s fine. Yamaguchi could use the plausible deniability.

Once he’s been declared as officially ‘not a strawberry anymore,’ Hinata helps him up. He only stumbles a little bit, but of course Hinata has to poke fun.

“You know what that means?” Hinata throws out, arm linked with Yamaguchi’s as they make their way to a well-deserved seat on the couch.

Yamaguchi hums in response.

“We’ve gotta start building up your tolerance.”

Yamaguchi’s eyes widen, but he’s pushed onto the couch with a lap full of Hinata before he can say anything. He looks up at Yamaguchi all big eyes and a bigger smile. Yamaguchi swallows.

“We’re doing that again, soon.“

[vixenpen]

Fuck A Fan (Bakugo x Camgirl reader pt. 1)

You had gotten the idea from one of your best friends in the cam industry.

“You sure this will work?”

“Trust me boo,” he had replied, “sometimes the best motivation for a man is a little friendly competition.”

Your bestie had insisted that a fuck a fan contest would be the perfect way to get CallMeKing to finally make good on his unfulfilled promise to see you.

Putting the finishing touches on your flyer, you finally posted the announcement to all social media. You knew CMK was still lurking. So he’d definitely see it. Hopefully, this little contest would be enough to spark his interest, if this failed, you were going to scream.

Because for the first time in your cam career, a man had you chasing him.

The audacity!

To be fair, he did say that he wanted to see you too, but had to keep a low profile due to his career. He promised as soon as worked dialed down you guys would meet up.

Well that had been over a year ago, and not only had you guys not met face to face; he also didn’t seem to check in on you as much anymore.

He still tipped and re-subbed to your page. He had even cash-apped you money for Christmas and your birthday.

But aside from that, there were no more late night, sexting sessions, no more random check ins, no more nude trading.

At first, you brushed it off.

He was apparently a very successful man. Successful men were busy. They couldn’t give you every second of their time. As a successful woman, you could relate to that.

Not to mention, you were a bad bitch and bad bitches did not pine over any man.

PERIODTTT.

Buuuut...when the man in question was fine as hell with boulders for biceps, a big dick, and long money, well...you’d like to think the City Girls, Meg the Stallion, and all the other bad bitches you looked up to would understand your thirst.

“Alright, King,” you sat back in the furry, white computer chair and glared at your laptop screen. “Ball is in your court now.”

“Mr. Ground Zero, can I get a picture too?”

A precocious looking blue haired kid asked. He stared up at Katsuki with wide, hopeful eyes.

Katsuki grimaced.

“Whatever kid, c’mon.”

He leaned down, attempting to keep a safe distance from the walking germ pool, while keeping in the lens of his camera phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thanks a lot, Mr. Ground Zero!”

The kid giddily ran back to his group of friends.

Kirishima slung his arm around Bakugo’s shoulder, weighing down on his slightly shorter friend.

“Wow, Bakubro, looks like those public relations training classes have really been working, huh?”

“Whatever, I just don’t need anymore shitty press with kids.”

“You still have energy for happy hour with Sero and Me tonight?”

Bakugo replied with a noncommittal shrug. He scrolled absentmindedly through his phone as he and Kirishima headed towards their agencies to call it a day.

He decided to check in on (cam name’s) IG page to see how she was doing.

A pang of longing tugged at him. He missed her. A lot. Sure, she was a cam girl, and being friendly and flirty was her job, but she always brightened his days. With crime picking up steadily over the past year, Bakugo could use her presence in his life now more than ever, unfortunately, nothing in his schedule would permit it.

He was researching a new threat that had been developing in the crime world. Apparently the new mob of villains seemed to have some connections to the crime world in America, and Bakugo found himself flying back and forth to the west for meetings and to make media rounds to help put the public at ease.

His sleep schedule was completely out of whack with all the stress he was under, so any spare moment he wasn’t working, he was sleeping. Which meant no time for his virtual boo thing. Though he did try to make it known he was thinking about her with bill money.

As he flipped through her newest posts, something caught his eyes.

Fuck a fan contest? Winner gets to make content with me at secure location!

What the fuck was this shit?

Whatever it was, he was certainly going to get to the bottom of it when he got home.

CMK: Hey, (cam name) what’s this all about?

Y/N: what does it look like? Fuck a fan contest

CMK: fuck u mean? You don’t do meet ups!

Y/N: 🤷🏾‍♀️ first time for everything.

Anger hummed beneath Bakugo’s skin. Since when did y/n start doing meet ups? She had always told him she didn’t trust her fans as far as she could throw them.

He had encouraged her to not be forthcoming with personal information and never feel like she had to meet up with randos online for money. He would take care of anything she needed before it came to that.

So what was the meaning of this? Had he not been taking good enough care of her? Keeping her bills paid? Her nails and hair done?

Y/N: u entering or what? 👀

CMK: hell no im not entering and neither is anyone else. Now take that shit down.

Y/n: (voice note) first the fuck of all, you don’t tell me what to do. Second the fuck of all, do you know how much money is in this? You ain’t stopping my bag boo. Period! 💅🏾

He was practically seething. Who the fuck did she think she was talking to like that?

Who the fuck did she think she was saying no to?!

His dick stirred in his pants as he re-listened to the voice note of her cursing him out.

CMK: how much does it take to win?

Y/N: just whoever has the most.

CMK tipped $150,000

CMK: now take it the fuck down

Y/N: nobody else has entered yet.

CMK: nobody else up here has the money I have.

Y/N: if you’re not meeting with me, I ain’t takin it down.

CMK: god fucking dammit y/n. Tonight. 9pm. Text me the addy. I’ll have my driver pick you up.

True to his word, CMK had his driver pick you up an hour and a half before the time he had mentioned.

Your knee bounced, causing the black mini dress hugging your shapely thighs to ride up. You pulled it down absentmindedly.

You could count on one hand how many times you had been flown out by one of your fans. It certainly wasn’t a weekly occurrence for you the way it was for other models.

Fear and excitement fluttered in your stomach.

You wondered what the driver thought of you. Heading to this rich and powerful man’s house in the middle of the night.

You had tried to dress up as if you were going to be taken on a fancy date. Your hair styled, silver chandelier earrings dripping from your lobes to match the long silver necklace that dipped between your pushed up cleavage.

If the driver gave two shits, you at least hoped he thought you were going to get a nice meal before getting dicked down.

The community where CMK lived was on the outskirts of town; hidden in a forest of natural and manicured foliage. One could go literal miles between each home before they saw the next one.

You pressed your forehead against the window to take in the flora and fauna, manicured lawns, and huge mansions. So. Many. Styles. Of mansions!

“Here we are ma’am.” the driver announced.

He drove you up a looping, stone drive way that led to a very modern home that reminded you a bit of abstract art what with its odd angles, jutting sides, and square architecture.

The driver stepped out and opened your door. Once you were faced with the massive stairs and wooden doors before you, the song: Pretty Woman blared in your mind. You certainly felt that way.

Before you could knock, the door swung open revealing a pair of red eyes that were devouring your body head to toe.

“Oh my god...”

“Wasn’t expecting to hear that before I even touched you, beautiful.” He chuckled. His lips quirked into the cocky half smirk you’d grown familiar with from his interviews.

Was this real? Call me king was Ground Zero?!

“C-call me king?” You managed to stutter out pitifully.

“I would prefer to call you by your real name.” He joked. “Come in, beautiful.” He grabbed your hand gently and pulled you through the door.

You couldn’t even appreciate the high ceilings, polished wood floors, and tasteful stone wash colored furniture as you followed Ground Zero through the door.

He took leggy strides into the airy kitchen taking out a couple of glasses from a cupboard. You could only gawk.

He looked good as hell in his short sleeved denim button up shirt and ripped black jeans. His physique flexed under the well tailored clothes showing off the broad chest and bulging biceps you’d seen in the Nudes. His spiky Blonde hair looked soft and a bit damp.

“You wanna drink, beautiful?”

“I don’t accept drinks from new people in new environments.”

He looked up to shoot you a half smile. The usual mischief was missing from his red eyes, replaced with genuine affection.

“Of course you don’t. My (cam name.)”

“F/N,” you replied.

“Bout damn time you gave me a real name. Mine is Bakugo, babe.”

He strolled over with a glass of water for himself.

“So, f/n,” his ruby colored eyes darkened with a predatory gleam as he stepped right to your face. “Why don’t you have a seat? I promise the couch won’t bite.”

He brought a hand down to smack your round ass, making you jump.

“Can’t say the same for myself though.”

Licking your lips, you lowered yourself into the couch. Bakugo settled beside you so close the sides of your bodies touched. He draped an arm around your shoulder.

“I know you got a camsona and all, but damn, y/n, where’s my feisty little c/n? Huh? Lil Ms. Period!” His voice took on a lighter tone as he tried to imitate your twang.

The attempt earned him a giggle.

“Well excuse me, sir, but I wasn’t expecting the number two pro-hero in Japan to be my biggest fan.” You snapped back, playfully rolling your eyes. “Forgive me if I’m still wrapping my brain around it.”

“There’s that smart ass mouth I love so much.” He tucked your chin.

This close to him, you could feel his warm minty breath fanning against your lips. A familiar warmth was already growing between your legs.

Pulling away you asked: “Why me?”

“Hah?” His brows knit in confusion. “Fuck kinda question is that? What do you mean why you?”

“I mean, I’m a bad bitch or whatever, but I’m just...me and you’re...you.”

“Tch. You just answered your own damn question, dumb ass.” He tilted your face back towards him. You felt his other large hand roam the bare skin of your thigh and shivered.

“You’re a bad bitch. You don’t seem to forget that any other time, don’t fuckin’ forget it now, got that? Your confidence is what’s sexy about you.”

A smile tugged at your lips as heat flooded your cheeks.

“You know, when you’re not being a fuckin’ asshole, you can be pretty damn charming when you wanna be.”

“And when you’re not being a defiant little brat, you can be real fucking cute.”

A moan slipped from your glossy lips as his hand crept steadily up your thigh

“Please,” you leaned closer to him, “you love my brattiness.”

He scoffed, amused.

“I’ll show you just how much I like it.”

Without warning, Bakugo scooped you up. His large, rough hands dug into the soft flesh of your round ass as he straddled you on his lap.

Your wet, bare pussy pressed into his bulge as he stole a greedy kiss. Your gasp quickly morphed into a moan as desire burned in your core and flooded your entire body.

His tongue overtook your mouth effortlessly.

“No panties, huh, brat? I can feel you leaking through my jeans.”

“I hate panties,” you managed between kisses. “And bras.”

That little confession just inspired more arousal in Bakugo. He deposited you on the long couch and let his hot tongue snake along every sensitive bit of exposed flesh he could find. Goosebumps rose on your skin.

“Damn, beautiful,” he managed between kisses, “can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”

His bulge rubbed your aching clit deliciously.

You tugged his shirt up over his mess of blonde hair.

He grabbed the deep ‘V’ of your dress and ripped it open, drawing a gasp from you.

“Now we match.” He grinned

“You ass—“

“You’ll have a new outfit by tomorrow afternoon, now shut up.”

True to his word, Bakugo tasted every inch of you. He nibbled your ears making you shiver, licked your nipples making you hiss his name, and devoured your toes like blow pops.

Your body was trembling from sensory overload.

“God..” you moaned.

“You look like you want something, babe,” Bakugo smiled wickedly as he hovered above you. “What is it?”

“Eat me.”

[z3llous]

Sweet Lies

(They/Them)

Perona x Reader

---

"Ugh" Perona hovered along the edge of the room in a seemingly endless loop, an aggressive loop.

"Would you stop pacing around my room all ghost like and let me sleep in peace." Zoro grumbled wanting the chilly draft of her moody presence to be gone so he could be released of his unwilling consciousness.

"I hate their style! It's so so so... uncute!"

"Y/n? Again? What did they do this time?" If talking about it got her out of his room, then so be it.

"They said I look like an ancient mummy!" Her screech cause both him and the bats napping outside to flinch.

"Now that you mention it the heaps of uneven lace do make you look like a mummy. I'm surprised I didn't notice it first." He said after tiredly pausing to take in her appearance.

"You're not supposed to take their side!" Perona grew red in the face and floated off in the direction of the woods.

"Finally." The tired moss took advantage of her absence and proceeded to pass out.

---

Her translucent form had grumpily wandered into the thin part of the woods.

Dead leaves scuttled across the dry ground in an almost lively manner. The temperature began to drop and the sun eagerly joined.

Shadows grew longer and longer until they entangled and mixed into an inky mangled mess.

The decrepit owl's hoot echoed from above.

Were those footsteps?

She froze.

The grass rustled.

A long deceased pinecone crunched underfoot nearby.

Thud.

A bunny hopped out of a bush to her left and she relaxed.

Thank god it was just a lil rabbit.

Perona decided that she had enough wandering about and it would be best to go back.

She turned around began to make her way back.

Wait.

Is that... a hand?

The heart she currently lacked increased it's pace drastically all the way back in her bedroom.

Her eyes grew in size upon realizing how familiar the body attached to said hand was.

"Y/N!" She screamed and shot up from her bed].

"I have to go back!" She quickly grabbed her fuzzy bat jacket and rushed out.

---

The glow of the flashlight grazed her "enemy's" body and she dropped to her knees.

"Are they?" She gently poked a finger to their neck and waited. "No. There's a pulse."

A small groan escaped from their throat and they rolled over.

"Y/N!" Her excited scream startled Y/n awake.

"Ugh. Perona?" Their weak half-lidded eyes observed her.

"What happened?"

"I think I slipped and rolled down the hill." They tried to get up, but their sore limbs failed.

"Don't. Just lean on me ok?" She said and wrapped their arm around her neck.

"Ok." Not that they had another choice.

---

The two stumbled across the stone castle floor.

"I think I can walk the rest of the way." Y/n tried to move independently.

"No not that way you'll bleed on my Meow Meow Kitty rug." She pulled them back onto her.

"Fine." Y/n begrudgingly followed.

"This way." Perona lead them toward the bathroom. "Sit down." She pointed to the edge of the bathtub.

As asked of them they sat down and looked about.

It was clearly her bathroom. The creepy décor made that obvious, not that they minded it.

In truth Y/n was never bothered by Perona's style. Not even once. They just liked to tease her.

Call them a sadist, but Perona's "suffering" was incredibly  enjoyable. It was more frustration  than suffering. Did she really want their approval that badly? So much that it was frustrating every time is was within reach and suddenly pulled away.

Her adorable expressions only added fuel to fire that-

"Ow!" They cringed and were snapped out of their thoughts by a sharp sting.

"Hold still. I can't disinfect all these uncute cuts if you keep moving." She whined and grabbed their hand to finish treatment of the small scrapes that covered their arm.

"Alright. Alright." They relented and held still for most of the time Perona spent tending to their wounds.

"Finally. Was that so hard? God, I hate you." She huffed and turned to put away the med kit.

Y/n carefully stood up and stepped forward to slide a hand into her hair.

"You're so cute when you lie." They whispered as their other arm slipped around her and gripped a heart shaped hair brush, effectively pinning her to the sink from behind.

"What are you doing?! And I don't lie!" Perona's cherry face could be seen from the mirror.

That's a new expression. I'd like to see that one more often~

"That in itself is a lie, my dear." They lifted the hairbrush in front of Perona's face. "And since you asked so nicely, I'll tell you I was just getting your hairbrush. You messed up your hair and got some dirt in it while helping me." They spoke calmly, yet their eyes gave away the amusement they felt within.

"Oh, Thank you." She'd relaxed albeit it a bit embarrassed. "...When have I lied?"

Her eyes met theirs in the reflection.

"Well there's when we first met. You said you'd tear my heart out. That scared the fuck out of me. If you wanted it that badly you could've just asked. And then there's the one you just told." Y/n's hand and the brush glided skillfully through the pink locks at a pleasant pace.

"I- I don't know what you're talking about." Her eyes broke from theirs in the mirror.

The brushing halted for a moment.

"We both know damn well that you don't hate me. If that were true then I wouldn't be here and we wouldn't be in this position." They brought a large strand of her pink hair to their lips.

"I- uh- um."

"You can keep lying if you want, but I don't hate you either." Y/n set the brush down and gently wrapped their arms around her.

She slowly turned around in their arms and leaned closer.

"I love you." It was quiet, but sounded so incredibly loud for Y/n.

"Love you too~" They happily rested their forehead against hers and smiled. "Now, may I kiss you, love?"

"Ugh, f-fine."

Wattpad Cover:

[wevegottogetaway]

Thanks fo’ saving my ass (Part 2)

There is a part 3 coming, I think these two deserve the...culmination, but I wasn’t sure if I could have it ready soon enough. Stay tuned for more, hope you enjoy! x

Part 1   -   Part 3*

It starts with a resounding bang. A back curving over maple hardwood; taut muscle stretching soft cotton fabric; twin jades squinted in concentration; a shoulder blade protruding briefly for one swift determining movement. Red, blue, yellow, purple, orange phenolic resin scattering across green worsted wool like a dozen pinballs simultaneously kicked in various directions.

It ends with the deep echo. A ball falling into emptiness before meeting rock-bottom; the release of a soft withheld breath; firm flesh unflexing with satisfaction; two sets of glossy eyes meeting in a knowing look. "Nice break, Styles. Stripes it is," y/n happily comments once Harry leans back from the pool table.

Gibson’s is full of rowdy chatters, tipsy laughs and fulsome smiles. Strangers bonding for a night of undiluted carefreeness, clicking drinks after merry drinks in honor to their new ephemeral best friends. All sorrows have been forsaken on the coat rack at the entrance,  hung in insouciance, leaving nothing but good spirits to sit at the tables and loiter near the bar. Everything about this place is warm and nurturing, a cosy embrace after a tedious day, a home for the people that lets them nurse bottles and wounds alike, and sees them leave later on, cheerful, relaxed and healing. It took but a second for Harry to understand why y/n is so fond of the place and he was not surprised to find her on a first-name basis with the barmaid, the two of them catching up on life while she was preparing the drinks.

Now, fifteen minutes in, they’ve happily made their way to the vacant timeworn pool table at a secluded corner of the bar, drinks and grins in toe. The space is only lit up by a single lamp hanging from the ceiling, casting daedal shadows along the walls and across the table’s carpeted surface. The subdued light and music crooning in the background make for a suggestive atmosphere, air thick with limitless curiosity and enticing promises.

The corner of Harry’s lips quirks in a wry smile and a bold glint takes residence at the crease of his eyes; the telltale sign of a burgeoning idea brewing up in his cheeky mind. "What’dya say we make this a lil more interesting?" The offer is served with a raised brow, a hand on his waist, and one foot perched on its toes over the other as he leans against the cue.

From across the pool table, y/n is quite endeared at the sight but her response comes out in fake offense,"oh I’m sorry, am I boring you already?"

"Quite the opposite actually." His head tilts the slightest bit to the side, gaze unwavering from her face in a mission for persuasion.

Her lips grimace as she tries to suppress a betraying smile to no avail, "fine, I’m listening."

He grins victoriously at her inability to keep a straight face, his limbs dislodging from his casual pose. "We take turns," his motions at the space between them. "F’we pocket, we get to ask one question. No bullshit answer, jus’ the truth." His eyes are wide as he gauges her response.

"A question, huh?" she takes her time to contemplate the proposition just to watch him squirm in impatience. "Damn, for a sec I thought you were about to suggest strip-pool." She sends him a playful look as she walks the length of the table to step closer to him and have a better look at his chiseled features.

"I mean, m’totally down but might be a bit unfair on your part," his eyes briefly trail down her body in silent conveyance of her single-piece attire. He’s got much more material to shed before exposing skin than she does.

"Wouldn’t you like to know." The suggestive retort has Harry’s stomach churn with humid passion, the question of just how many layers she’s wearing exactly, playing with the most lascivious parts of his brain. "Not that it matters, you’d be butt-naked before you’d get a nip-slip."

"Overestimating yourself?"

"Just giving you fair warning," she shrugs in nonchalance running her fingers along the edge of the table, "so you know what you’re getting yourself into."

When she lifts her head back to connect their gaze again, she finds him biting at his bottom lip to contain his signature smirk, "no worries there, darlin’. M’all willing." He almost punctuates his retort with a salacious wink but decides to save it for a more opportune time. Something tells him he’s in for a long evening, not that it’s any cause for concern. Like he said, he is very much consenting to anything her heart desires to do to him.

"Good to know." Y/n quips back with a smile before leaning on her hand resting upon the pool table. "What’s your question then?"

For a moment, Harry forgets he just broke the rack and successfully sent a plain purple ball in one of the table’s pocket, taking him one step closer to victory and granting him one question as per his own proposition. He quickly gathers his reeling thoughts before settling on an easy inquiry, fingers fiddling with the desire to sketch every bit of her character. "Right um, do you have other hobbies besides playin- or should I say, winning pool?"

She wants to slap- or should she say, kiss the smug look off his lovely face, but her answers airs in the same level tone she employs at work, "yes I do."

It’s not enough for Harry’s archeologic curiosity though. He’s barely dusted off the ground beneath his feet to reveal the hint of new groundbreaking findings; armed with sieves and brushes, he is eager to dig a little further, "and what might those be?"

However, y/n is quick to rebuff him, "uh uh, that’s two questions."

Indignation soars through his straightened posture, as he cries out a faint ’what? no!’ and her own ego grows two size at her cunning deceit, "gotta up your game if you wanna keep that perky bum intact, Styles."

Earlier words resonate in the confines of his outfoxed mind then, you can kick my ass at that game of pool as promised, and he tries really hard not to think about the promise following them. Instead he counterattacks in obvious diversion tactic, "that’s twice you’ve mentioned my ass in the past 5 minutes, perhaps I should read into it?"

"I guess you’ll have to wait and see," she lithely deflects as she grabs her own cue with a determined look etched upon her face, "my turn now."

With powerful strides, y/n navigates around the table to position herself at the most promising angle for a score of her own. Once she has both her target and the cue ball in firing line, she tunes out every last bit of stimulus encompassing her; the muffled sound of the music, the sticky oxygen filling up her lungs with sensual tension, the charming presence of the beau intently ogling her every move.

It barely takes her a couple seconds of intense concentration before a sharp thump is bouncing off the table and piercing through the air. The shot is so accurate, clean-cut, vigorous yet graceful and elegant all out once, Harry finds himself mesmerized by her skills more than the subtle form curving out from her bent posture.

The satisfaction is evident in her traits as she straightens up to face him, a pleased rictus forming at her lips. She doesn’t let any suspense unfurl before she cashes in her prize, "so what’s up with the muffin deliveries? You a stress-baker or summat?"

It’s a puzzle that’s been boggling her mind for while now; ever since the first time she watched him gallivanting around the office, handing out kindness and freshly baked goods for the small price of a friendly smile; it’d been a reoccurring thing ever since. The recollection has Harry’s cheeks warm up to a bashful shade of vermillion at the thought of admitting the reason behind his action: he’d bake a basketful of cakes just so he could give her one without exposing himself. Being straight forward with his infatuation may have been unfeasible at the time, but there was nothing against inconspicuously indulging the sweet tooth he knew she had, right?

"I dunno, just like seein' people smile, and everyone likes a good muffin, right?" His answer teeters on the ledge between veracity and evasion, the genuine ‘they were all for you’ being replaced by a less naked truth.

Y/n nods at his answer and waits until he is about to aim for another shot to voice her musings out loud, "mmm, they are quite delicious." Her attempt to distract him turns fruitful when his ears perks at her sultry voice right as he pointedly knocks the white ball with his cue. It’s off by an inch but a near-hit doesn’t help assuage his frustration, "fuck."

"Oh bummer. Guess you’ll have to pass," y/n can’t help but to tease him.

And the pout on his lips does nothing to quell her amusement, "bollocks, you distracted me."

"I did no such thing," she denies before taking his place at the table. The odds are in her favor, a perfect alignment offering itself to sink the blue striped ball right into the closest pocket. And because y/n never misses a clear shot when she’s handed one, that’s exactly what happens. Tucking the cue back at her side, she mulls over the hundred questions titillating her mind and settles for another pass at him,"is this suit the most extravagant you own and if not, what are the others like?"

Harry scrunches up his nose at yet another dig taken at the expense of his clothes, his voice pitching a halftone higher than usual, "hey, s’nough outta you, leave my suits out of it." There is a pout puckering at his lips and y/n giggles at his theatrics when he brings his hands to his chest in a protective gesture. This man and his suits…

"Somehow I don’t believe you give a single fuck about people’s opinion on your fashion choices."

"Very true. But I do value your opinion." For a brief moment, humor and wit give way to vulnerable sincerity as the two of them lock eyes over the pool table. A shy smile graces y/n’s lips, her heart faltering at his sweet sentiment before Harry gently breaks the consuming stare-off, "well, if you’re lookin’ fo’ more extravagant, I actually have a canary yellow flared suit that goes with a violet dress-shirt." And just like that, they found their way back to confidential banter.

"Damn, now I have to see it."

"One day if you’re lucky," this time he does wink at her, and this time he doesn’t let her enchantress juju distract him from the task at hand. As soon as the balls vanishes from the table, the question flies out of his mouth, "do you really find my suits obnoxious?"

Y/n pauses at the inquiry and tries to read into his eyes. She inspects the bright emeralds for  any unsuspected insecurities and when she finds none, she sends him a simple smile, "I love them. I just enjoy too much your reactions when I give you shit about them." Her chuckle tugs at Harry’s lips, before she lets honesty flooding past hers, "you got such a great sense of who you are, Harry, it just shows in the way you dress. I admire that, don’t let that go."

Interiorly, he’s heart is jumping in somersaults at possibly the kindest compliment someone’s ever granted him, the fact that it came from her only sending his beating organ into more acrobatics. Exteriorly, he returns her tender smile and mutters a timorous ‘thanks love,’ before watching her pocket another ball.

This time she doesn’t have to mull it over, "why did you wait?"

"Huh?"

"When we kissed earlier, you said you’d wanted to do it for a while. Why didn’t you?"

Her words are bare of any reproach as they both lean on their side against the table, inches apart from each other. It’s a fair question; one that she doesn’t really own as the word could have easily tumbled out from his mouth instead. It’s him on the spot though, and while he didn’t quite expect to broach such hazardous matters over a game of pool, he appreciates the openness of their bond. "I dunno, you always seemed so attached to boundaries at work, always so professional, I didn’t think you’d want me to make a move."

"I secretly did," she whispers.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

Goosebumps race down Harry’s arms as he takes in her confession and the way her teeth are  nipping her lips into a darker shade of pink. His eyes are drawn to them, the urge to close the gap and have her moaning in his mouth growing harder and harder to ignore, "fuck that’s sexy. You’re sexy."

The praise washes over y/n like a cold shower after a scorching day at the beach; startling shivers at first, golden skin tingling, and then all-encompassing relief. She loves how unfiltered he is with her, baring his thoughts to her just as they come, no editing, no secret agenda, no diffidence. Just her pure effect on him plastered across his beautiful face and candy-coating his words with a thick oozing layer of honeycomb syrup.

Leaning the slightest bit towards him, she tempts him with a near-kiss, almost dipping her lips in exquisite spongy fudge, but stops just as their breaths starts blending in one hot mess, "your turn," she purrs against his lips tantalizingly, before stepping away.

Harry looks like he is now the one in need of a cold shower, eyes pinched closed as he tries to compose himself, "right," he clears his throat. It takes him a bit more time to regain enough focus to make a successful go at the game, but once he’s got a good hold on the cue, a stable breath and a clear view of the shot, he takes it with ease and fortune.

As soon as he straightens up, he erases the distance between them, a determined look hardening the subtle lines of his face. "Did you ever think about me like I thought about you? At work, did you ever see me pass in the hallway and it took everythin’ you had not to follow me and kiss me senseless in the copy-machine room while no-one was watchin’?"

"Fuck. The thought might have crossed my mind once or twice," y/n confesses in batted breath. It’s clear the scenario isn’t so much a fabrication of his mind made on the spot as it is  a confession of his own experience, and the thought has the air in her lungs going scarce, as though she’s reached the apex of Mount Everest.

Harry isn’t fending off the heated tension much better, fingers twitching around his cue as he’d rather have her underneath his fingertips instead. He takes one look at the ceiling to stave his yearning some and draws in a deep breath."This is killing me," he whimpers while his lips skim over he skin of her forehead. "Go on, take your damn shot so we can be done with this game."

"It was your idea," she reminds him wryly. All of it, really; coming here, playing pool, playing 20 fucking questions, this heated hodgepodge of salacity and virtuous adoration is all his doing.

"I miscalculated."

"Poor you," y/n gently mocks is disgruntled attitude before scoring another ball, or as she likes to regard, another question, another opportunity to further tease at his already crumbling countenance, "what about you, Harry, do you ever think about me? At work… or otherwise?"

She already knows the first half of the answer and only voiced the double-entendre to rile him up, so she’s quite stunned when he whizzes, "too fucking much fo’ my own good."

The pained expression on his face is almost comical for y/n, she can’t resist probing at his despair, "me too." He groans at the flowing visuals he can’t ban from his filthy mind before she gestures towards the pool table in a gentlemanly way, "and that’s your cue," they both share a chuckle at her silly pun.

If Harry wasn’t so lost in a whirlwind of lustful thoughts, he would revel in the way their intellects seem to dovetail on all fronts; humor, banter, seduction, sincerity, nothing is lost in translation, they seem to talk in the same love language. From teasing digs and dirty innuendos to play on words or heartfelt confessions, they know exactly which frequency to tune in.

"Fuck, I can’t see straight," he laughs as he misses a shot for the second time, and y/n quickly takes over his spot around the pool table. Settle, relax, aim, breathe, shoot; another point to her flawless record. She turns to him, looking intently at his blown irises to stir up the flame already inhabiting them, "was it good?"

"Mind-blowing," he answers without unlocking their eyes, and the whole conversation is starting to get to her too. Her thighs rub against together, knuckles turning white around her cue as she tightens her grip and Harry has to bite his lips to contain a moan. He tries to distract himself by taking his turn in the game, and burst out in laughter when he pockets the ball and y/n cries out, "blue ball in the pocket! I feel like their might be a subliminal message somewhere but I can’t quite put my finger on it"

Once they regain their breath from laughing, tears of joy actually peeling from the corner of their eyes, they go back to staring at each other. It’s Harry’s turn to ask a question, and the anticipation had y/n fidgeting under his consuming gaze. She expects him to bounce back on the previous question, but to her surprise he decides to take a different route, "tell me darlin’, if I were to kneel at your feet and look up that pretty dress right now, what color your lil panties would be?"

The question sounds boyish really, yet instead of rolling her eyes at him, her core clenches around emptiness at the thought of having him between her legs right this moment, "can’t answer that, sorry."

"Oh come on love, you gotta say. Them’s the rules," Harry tries to coax the answer out of her but she’s not budging.

"Sorry, Harry. I’d tell you if there was anything to tell." His eyes widen at her lewd implication, the revelation of just how many layers away she is from being in the nude, coming into light. Damn, he would have gotten much more than a nip-slip.

"Fuck me, I need to sit down for a mo’."

She laughs at his dramatic response before picking up her cue, "you do that, in the mean time…" The rest of her sentence is cut short as she positions herself at the pool table, and the next sound cutting through the humid atmosphere comes from the ball falling into its target.

"Jesus, do you ever miss?"

"I don’t play to lose, Styles," she quips back. "Now, what’s your biggest fantasy? Aside from shagging in the copy-machine room, that is."

Harry takes one step closer, gently backing her against the table with one hand encasing her at either side of her waist. As he towers over her, his ardent look ignites a fire at the pit of y/n’s stomach, flame licking all the way up to her heart and down to her toes. Her core throbs before the words fall out of his supple lips like maple syrup on a stack of fluffy pancakes. "Right now? Bend you over this pool table and have my way with you."

"In front of all this people?"

"What d’you think is stoppin’ me from doin’ it right now?"

"Manners?"

The retort earns her a deep chuckle, as he shakes his head in disbelief, "fuck y/n, I lost my manners the moment you kissed me."

The raw admission sends a shiver down her spine, before she regains her full bearings and pushing his cue against his chest for him to grab, "your turn."

Barely moving from his spot nestled against her, he successfully sends the ball down the drain and doesn’t waste any time before asking in the same sultry voice, "favorite position?"

‘Why are y’asking?"

"Future reference," he announces confident.

"Well in that case, kinda like this…" she brushes against him as she bends over the table, ass jutted out on one side, before adjusting the angle of her cue and aiming for the pocket, "…when everything aligns and it just sinks…" bam, she propels the sphere in one strong hit "…right through." She finishes her demonstration with a score and a suggestive smile, only but one ball left for her to obliterate; the eight ball. "Are you ready to lose, Styles?"

"Dunno, is that your question?"

"Yes. I got everything I want to know already."

"Then I don’t fucking care about losin", s’not the game I wanna play anymore," he trails a finger down the skin of her back, goosebumps erupting at his touch. He is stopped by the tip of her cue pressing at his chest, slowly pushing him back from her space, and his hands meet this air in surrender. She’s got a wicked smile on her lips and a title to uphold after all, "last shot, make it count."

Harry takes the shot hastily, half expecting another miss, but the solid yellow ball disappears into the table’s corner in a vibrant crash. Eyebrows raised and shallow breath, he pivots back towards her, "please tell me this is turnin’ you on s’much as it’s turnin’ me on?"

"Yes," she rubs the exposed skin of his chest, eyes leaving his face to trail down his torso. "I’m just better at hiding it," she brings her lips to his ear, "physically or otherwise apparently." Then she leaves a loud smack on his cheek and goes around the table to sink the last ball standing in the way of her victory. In true y/n fashion, she completes a faultless round with one last graceful hit that leaves Harry transfixed by her dexterity.

"Damn, you are the queen of pool, I’m bowing down to you. Any final question?"

She lays the cue down on the table before coming up to him, "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Take me back to my place?"

His head falls back on its neck, eyes closing in deliverance, "fuck yeah." This whole night may have been the most intense and rousing foreplay he’s ever experienced, he can’t wait to deliver good on his own promise.

➪ Masterlist

[iwriteforthetincanman]

Mandoctober Day 11: Sorgan

A/N: I went off the deep end with this one folks! This also acts as I part two to day 4: Nevarro. Thank you for reading! Also I may have drawn inspiration from one of @dindjarindiaries​ writings at the beginning of this with Ad’ika’s eating habits. :3

Warnings: angst, self deprecation, sadness (lil anxiety) hurt and comfort, fluff and a hint of spice at the end

This is for @leo-moon​ ‘s Mandoctober!!

Another place Din didn’t think they’d ever return to was Sorgan. It had been a while since they had last visited, before Din had met you at least. After what took place on Nevarro there had been a little distance between the both of you, but not enough to cause concern. 

Din had admitted to himself and to you (whilst you were asleep) that he was deeply and utterly in love with you, forevermore. What the both of you didn’t know was that whatever was about to take place next was going to change both of your lives...forever. 

As cliche as that sounded, you had a job to do. 

Feeding the child was as mundane as things could get around the Razor Crest, but he sometimes made it interesting. Whilst you weren’t looking he managed to sneak three extra berries by floating them into his mouth with his special powers. The only way you knew this had happened were the purple stains on his face, the one that you had just wiped clean. 

“Ad’ika, you know you’re not supposed to eat more than I give, you might get a tummy ache.” Chastising the kid gently, you plucked him out of his high chair, making your way to the cockpit. 

---

Din had been as strict as usual, Mandalorian style. Don’t communicate with anyone suspicious or unnecessary, Don’t contact me unless absolutely necessary and last of all, don’t do anything stupid. These were all the rules you had to abide by just to go unnoticed on each and every planet your feet touched. He reminded you so often it was like it had become your version of the creed. 

What Din didn’t tell you was that there was a village on this planet where everyone knew him. Apparently the last time he visited he had helped save the village from being practically destroyed by thugs. So when they saw him again, they weren’t only surprised (which is what you were expecting) but they also celebrated. Alot.

There was dancing, music, drinks and lots of food. You could stay here for a couple of weeks, Din had told you. It was safe enough for now. This whole experience had been a clear juxtaposition of what the Mandalorian told you. It broke the rules, you didn’t know why he did this. 

That is...until you met her.

Omera.

When you first met her, you should have sensed something between them just by the way she practically ran over at the sight of him. Over time, you realised that Din knew her better than the other villagers of Sorgan. Then it started to scare you how close they were. She gave him food, cared for the child and kept him company. 

It was like you weren’t even there. Either he didn’t care as much as you thought he did or...you really weren’t needed.

Not right now at least.

That night you watched as the villagers danced around the campfire, so happy and content with their lives. A new song started to play, this time husbands started to bring their wives into the circle, bringing them close as they swayed slowly. You would’ve smiled at the heart warming sight if it weren’t for one thing…

Omera holding her hand out to Din.

It felt like someone was ripping your heart from out of your chest and crushing it into dust right in front of you. If he chose to dance with her you knew you never had a chance with him...probably from the beginning. 

Were all these emotions you felt over the past couple of years a figment of your imagination? It was insane how stupid you felt in that moment. Feeling tears pricking at your eyes just went and proved that thought...all you could do was get up and walk as quick as you could, away from the gut wrenching scene. 

You didn’t want to cause a fuss, despite all these conflicting thoughts and feelings.

---

Crying your eyes out didn’t seem like the best solution at first. 

Hidden amongst the boxes in the hold, you tried to will yourself to stop. It felt like your heart wouldn’t cooperate with your brain. Din hadn’t even done anything to you specifically and he had managed to tear your heart in two. It could’ve been worse…

Who are you kidding? All of today had been a perfect recipe for disaster. 

Omera had known Din longer than you had...did you even have a chance against her? She was beautiful, capable and she was already a mother. To you, she was everything you weren’t. 

And Din Djarin...you could never say a bad word about him. You had recklessly fallen for him, not even thinking twice about the consequences. If another person hadn’t gotten between you two it would’ve been something else, with him being a Mandalorian, he could’ve gone on a hunt, leaving you and the child only to never return. 

Yeah...that could be the ‘worse’ option. 

Seeing him die in front of you? That was a close second.

Dying in his place? ...you would do it in a heartbeat.

Even now, thinking your heart had died in that one evening, you knew you would still do that.

“What are you doing down there?” 

In the midst of your self deprecation you hadn’t even noticed Din standing in the middle of the Crest. Startling out of your stupor, you got to your feet, wiping your tears away rapidly. 

“W-Where’s the kid?” You sniffled. No matter how much wiping away you did, you knew Din had spotted the tear tracks.

“He’s fine...he’s with Omera.” Just the very sound of her name on his lips almost caused you to cry out in pain. It was like he had directed a knife right at your heart. 

Seeing your face crumple like that, Din had no clue what was going on. After he had refused Omera’s offer to dance, he turned to you only to see you practically running into the woods. Wondering what on Sorgan you were doing, he followed. He would follow you anywhere, really. 

“She’s...she’s an amazing mother.” In an attempt to compliment her, you tried to keep yourself together. Of all things to happen, you didn’t want to lose your composure in front of Din over something so...foolish.  

“Why were you crying?”

It wasn’t a question of if you had been crying, he already knew that, he just wanted to know why. Of course...you couldn’t tell him the truth! Not without admitting the intense series of feelings you had for him! 

“I-I was upset...about the dancing.” What. The. Kriff. Was. That? Of all the excuses you could’ve come up with? You went with the dancing? Well, it was partly true in a sense. 

“The dancing? What was wrong with the dancing?” Upon asking this question, you really looked at him. Even in all his beskar clad glory, you couldn’t help hearing how quiet his tone was. Did he always talk like that or was it just with you? Taking a breath, you answered.

“I...don’t know how.” Now that...that was a whole truth. 

Even if you had been upset over Din’s choice in dancing partner, you had no clue how to even approach the subject of dancing, let alone with another person. 

“...I could teach you, if you like?”

...You weren’t expecting that. But how could you refuse?

Stepping closer towards the bounty hunter, you gave him a small smile.

“I’d like that very much Djarin.” Hearing a chuckle at the use of his last name, you grinned. Hearing him laugh was always a rare experience, knowing you caused that kind of joy? Sent you over the moon. 

Just the touch of his gloves brushing against your spine as he pulled you closer was the cause of many impure thoughts racing through your head. Scolding yourself internally, you let out a shaky sigh, awaiting his next move. 

“Usually the guy leads and since I know how to dance and you don’t...seems like a good idea.” A laugh peppered his words as he placed one of your hands in his, leaving the other around your waist. Thinking back to the villagers, you remembered how the women placed their other hand on their partner’s shoulder. 

Mimicking the action, you felt like you had drifted somewhat closer to one another, if that were even possible. 

“If you listen hard enough you can hear the music coming from the village...it kinda echoes off the trees.” Doing as he said, you closed your eyes, intently listening out for the soft hum of dainty instruments as the notes thrummed through the forest. 

“...it does.” You giggled lightly at the observation. Wondering how, even with the helmet on, he caught on to all these little details regarding the common senses. Sight, sound, smell, taste and...touch.

It felt like his hand prints were burning through your skin, despite the extra layers. This was the closest you had ever been to the Mandalorian, armor or not. Wounds or not. This felt so...so intimate. 

“Now, it’s okay if you step on my feet the first couple of times, but it's a simple pattern so you’ll get used to it after a couple of minutes.” Minutes? He was going to dance with you for longer than a single song? 

“S-Sure thing.” Stumbling over your words, you tried to gain a grip on yourself. The need for coherent thought struck you as he began to sway. Tripping over your own feet, you realised how difficult it was to do this whilst keeping your eyes on Mando. All the couples made it look so easy. That was when something Mando had said came crashing back to you.

“Wait...you said you already knew how to dance? Who taught you?” You didn’t know what you were expecting him to say as he took a moment to collect his words but you guessed that someone in the covert had taught him for fun. Instead...he opened up to you.

“My mother taught me.” Those words were spoken so quietly yet it was almost as if he had yelled them into your mind. Just the image of a little Din standing on top of his mother’s feet as 

they swayed around their home brought a fresh batch of tears to your eyes. 

“You’ve...You’ve never talked about her before…” Trailing off, you didn’t expect him to tell you more. You didn’t need him to, you knew how sensitive the subject of his parents was. You would never make him feel uncomfortable for your own personal gain. 

“You remind me of her...sometimes.” This sentence was an attempt to knock you off of your feet altogether as you glanced down, a furious blush kidnapping your features as you faked a hurried look at your feet. 

“...how so? If you don’t mind me asking that is.” You would ask, but if he didn’t want to go further. Further than this...a simple dance lesson yet it was so much more. If he didn’t want to tell you about his mother, one of the people who meant the most in the galaxy to him besides the child...perhaps besides you. You were completely fine with that.

“I don’t mind you asking questions Y/N...it’s one of the many qualities I like about you.” The combination of the words ‘I’, ‘like’ and ‘you’ filled you with an overwhelming urge to hug him. Restraining yourself, you chose to grin at him, shyly albeit. 

“My mother was curious, kind, forgiving yet fierce in the way she loved those around her. It showed through in the many ways she cared for me and my father. I remember asking her one night how they met, she told me that the scenario of that night was predictable up until the point where she saw him through the crowd. I remember the look in her eyes when she recalled ‘It was like the galaxy was pushing us towards one another’ she said. I remember...at the time, I yearned for something like that to happen to me one day...although it was a childish dream I know now.” 

“It’s not childish to yearn for love Din.” You couldn’t help your outburst, biting your lip, you refused to meet his gaze. That helmet may have deemed an unforgiving message to others but to you, it was him. You had refused to face the facts for so long now...no matter how true they were, but you were...you are so utterly in love with him. The Mandalorian. 

“You sound like you’re talking from experience.” He hummed, letting out a bitter chuckle you faced him with a forced smile. 

“I always seem to fall for those who have already fallen...for someone else it seems.” The overwhelming sadness was threatening to overtake you once more. You didn’t want to cry...not in front of him. Not after this wonderful pick me up, the feel of the beskar against you, all you wanted to do was rest your head on his shoulder and dance the rest of the night away. 

“-Are you...are you in love with somebody right now?” The daring request shocked you. Sure, you had learnt a lot about Din tonight, you knew you refused to tell him your true feelings in the past but...you couldn’t seem to lie to him in this moment. This bittersweet yet perfect moment. 

“...Yes.” The force of air that left your lips was inhuman in a way...like you had stopped breathing. At this point you hadn’t even realised how effortlessly you had been dancing with the Mandalorian. Not until he brought you to a complete stop, the music carrying on through the wind.

“I...I think that despite how often I tried to remind myself that love wasn’t in the cards for me...that I wasn’t worth that kind of sacrifice...I fell in love. What I didn’t expect was for it to hurt...Din, it hurts so kriffing much and I don’t know what to do because I don’t want to leave you and the kid so I can run away from the pain.” You were crying now...brilliant. 

“Why? Why would you talk about leaving? Ever?” You could hear his breathing now, it was heavy and gasping, like he had been dunked in ice cold water. You hated to imagine the look on his face that went with the sound of his voice. It broke your heart all over again. 

“Because Din...I fell in love with you and I didn’t even think twice about it. About how you could go on a job and not come back, you could get killed right in front of me, leaving me to care for the kid alone or...or you could already be in love with someone else.” A sob bubbled up into your chest and it pained you to keep it there...not as much as this though.

“What are you talking about?”

“You and Omera!” 

The scream of this dragged itself around the edges of the Razor Crest, leaving you a heaving mess due to the effort. Through the tears you realised you had ripped yourself away from him, his hands were held in mid air...he was reaching out for you.

“I’m...I’m not in love with Omera.”

His voice pierced your heart in the complete opposite result of tonight’s events. 

“What?” This time you were completely and utterly confused, tears beginning to dry. Slowly, the Mandalorian approached you, noticing the way he wrung his hands it was obvious...he was nervous. 

“Do you know what ‘Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum’ means cyar’ika?” At the nickname he frequently called you, your heart warmed despite your lack of knowledge towards Mando’a. 

“No? ...But why do I feel like I’ve heard those words before.” Crinkling your forehead in confusion, you wracked your brain for where you had heard those words before. You may not know what they mean but you knew they were important. Infinitely important. 

“...Probably because I’ve said them before.” His helmet was hanging now, the lip of it pressed against his chest as he stared at his own feet. 

“...Din, please tell me what they mean.” Stepping closer to him this time, you pressed your hands to his chest. Refusing to meet your gaze, the quiet intensified by tenfold, loaded with tension. 

“Din Djarin...please.” Resting a hand on the cheek of his helm, you raised his head so he knew how serious you were.

“They mean…’I hold you in my heart forever’...it’s the Mandalorian way of saying I love you.” He may have whispered these powerful words but it felt like he had stolen your breath. You wanted to kiss him, gods above you did. Instead, his arms wrapped around you once more and he pressed the forehead of his helm to yours. 

“How could you ever think I was in love with something else when I’ve only ever had eyes for you? I’ve been pining after you for months on end, wondering if there was even a possibility that you could love someone like me in return.” These words may have been softly spoken but they scorched a way into your heart as you pressed against him in return.

“Din Djarin, a fearless bounty hunter and Mandalorian...do I make you nervous?” You joked a blush still fresh on your features. 

“...Extremely cyar’ika.” Biting your lip once more, a pleasant sensation rang through your body at the sound of his voice lowering.

“Are you ever going to tell me what that one means?” Fluttering your eyelashes up at him, you attempted to flirt.

“Darling, sweetheart.”

“That was two different words?” 

“It means either and both at the same time. Mando’a is complicated.” He shrugged under your palms. 

“What about...cyare?” You tested the word on your tongue only to gain a shiver under your fingertips. Knowing that Din felt the same way made you the happiest person on Sorgan. But learning that your words affected him just as much as his bewitched you? It sent stars into your brain. 

“Beloved.” 

At the dangerously low pitch he emitted, you knew you were in for a long night.

[itisannak]

Luke x Firefighter!(Y/N) (Smut Fic)

Summary: Luke really likes the firefighter who treated him after a fire. And she does too. How do a firefighter and a rockstar mix, though? (Smut / Unprotected Sex / Doggy Style / Oral; Female Receiving) (T.W: Injuries / Hospital Setting) (Request: @saphseoul​) (Words: 9.6k)

"Ok, but actually, whose idea was it to put an egg in the microwave?" I ask, putting the sleeve of the blood pressure monitor around the man's bicep. He mumbles something under his breath, looking at his hands; I knit my eyebrows together, trying to figure out what he said. "What was that?" I ask him and he sighs. "I was out of utensils and I wanted to eat something quick. And what's quicker than an egg? Can you ask if the fire damaged the house a lot?" He asks me and I hum. "Well, the kitchen was nearly burned down..." I reply and he groans, throwing his head back and bringing his hand to run it down his face. "Calum's going to kill me..." He groans, making me chuckle. "Your boyfriend?" I ask, getting in the fire truck to pick up an oxygen tank. "What? No... My best friend... I was supposed to house sit for him. How can I tell him I burned down the house?" He asks me before I help him with the mask. "Well, you didn't completely burn down the house. I have seen way worse... And you can either do it yourself, or I am pretty sure the insurance company will do it for you." I chuckle, turning the oxygen on. "Deep breaths. You are going to be fine." I smile at him, starting to gather up all the stuff I've taken out of the medkit.

I take the mask off his face, turning the tank off and climbing in to put it back in place. "You have oddly soft hands..." He comments like it is the strangest thing ever. "I guess I do. Alright, pal, you are as good as new. Well, to the extent that you can, I guess." I state, patting his shoulder. "Luke." He says and I tilt my head, looking at him in confusion. "Look where?" I ask and he sighs desperately. "No... My name is Luke." He extends his hand and I roll my eyes at how stupid I must have seemed to him. "Oh... (Y/N)." I shake his hand and he chuckles at me. "So... Um... I was wondering... Like, it is kinda stupid... But um... Fuck, sorry. Lemme start over." He stutters, fiddling with his fingers. "I would like to take you out... Sorry, this sounds dumb... I mean, I would love to see you again. When my face is not covered in smoke and you don't have to make sure I won't die. Shit, that is even worse." He sighs frustrated; his eyes dart everywhere but on me, his face turning red as he babbles the words. "I... This is the first time this has happened to me... I don't know what to say..." I am the one to stutter now, earning a chuckle from him. "This is too awkward... It's painful to look at..." My colleague Vic states as she puts the equipment in the back of the truck. "My shift is over at 9. There is a bar we go to after shifts, on the 9th  and 36th. I am going to be there. Along with other firefighters. So, if you are one of those creeps, know that they will probably help me take you under." I state and he hums. "I'll see you at 9:30, at the bar on the 9th and 36th." He smiles at me, jumping off his seat in the back of the truck.

"You got a hot date tonight, I heard." Vic teases me, wiggling her eyebrows as I fix my shirt and tilt my head at her. "You were right in front of us when he asked me, stop mocking me." I reply and he coos at me. "I am not mocking you." She protests and I huff. "You don't think this is too impulsive, do you?" I ask, leaning against the lockers. She walks to me, fixing a strand of hair behind my ear. "I am proud you finally didn't overthink before doing something." She states, her eyes forming little lines as she smiles at me, cheeks getting pushed up from it. "He didn't look like a creep, did he?" I ask again, biting my bottom lip. "He looked like white Jesus, stop worrying over everything. You can always call me if you feel like you are in danger." She offers and I huff. "You are going to be there, either way. I told him to meet me at the bar after the shift." I state and she hums. "Smart." She pats my back and moves ahead to get ready.

I sit on the bar, taking a sip of my beer while I check the door for Luke to walk in. Vic, along with our colleagues Maya and Clint, is sitting on the other end of the bar, occasionally giving me a thumbs up for encouragement. Luke walks in, spotting where I am sitting and rushing to me. "Hi... I am so sorry I am late." Luke states, pulling a stool closer before he motions the barman over. "Did anything happen?" I ask him and he shakes his head. "It will sound stupid, but my dog was whining every time I tried to get out of the house." He scratches the back of his head, looking at me for my reaction. "You have a dog?" I ask excitedly, making him smile at me. "Yes. A bulldog-terrier girl. Her name is Petunia and she looks like the cutest piggy you've ever seen." He replies, making me coo. "Do you have any pictures?" I ask him and he hums, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He scrolls through his gallery, chuckling as he turns his phone to me. On the screen, there is a picture of the dog, holding a stuffed fox as she lays on the couch. "She is so cute, I can almost forgive for being late." I state and he brings his hand to his chest, sighing in an obviously sarcastic way. "Do you have any?" He asks me. "What, pets?" I ask him, bringing my beer to my lips. "Yeah." "No... My work hours are crazy, I couldn't take care of anyone else but myself." I reply and he nods. "I get it..." He mumbles, shrugging his shoulders. "You get it, huh? What do you do for a living?" I ask him, sitting up a little better. "I am a musician. I am the lead in a band, we are quite known, actually." He replies, smiling charmingly at me. "You are?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow at him. "We are called 5 Seconds of Summer. 5sos for short." He states, making my eyes go wide. "You are the underwear song guy?" I ask in shock, making him sigh and close his eyes. "I... Fuck... We have a lot better songs than that one." He states, taking a swig from his beer. "I bet you do. But that song... That song slapped, dude. I still listen to it when I work out." I state and he hums. "You should really listen to our songs after that one." He suggests, making me bite the inside of my cheek. "Maybe I will. Any suggestions?" I ask and he chuckles, arching an eyebrow. "Maybe I will give you some suggestions on our second date. Scratch that, on our first date, because this is not a real one. Your friends over there have been giving me the death glare since I stepped in." He points out, gesturing to Clint. I look at them, finding that Clint wishes glares could kill, which only makes me giggle. "I am the baby of the station. They are looking out for me." I brush it off, clinging my bottle against his.

"Wine?" Luke asks me as we walk into his living room. "Yes, please. Red." I reply, looking around me; his house is fancy, like decor magazine cover fancy. "Can you wait here? There is someone I want you to meet." He says as he hands me the glass. I smile and nod, knowing damn well he is going to bring his dog out; a classic girl-magnet move. He leaves the living room, letting me just wander around it as I wait for him to come back. I wasn't expecting him to have such a tidy and clean house. I mean, we've been going out for 3 weeks now, and he always gave me more of a care-free vibe, to set it politely. "This is Petunia." He announces, walking into the living room with his dog following behind him. I gasp, kneeling down to pet the dog. "Hi, pretty girl." I coo, scratching behind her ears. "You are so cute." I sing as she lays on her back and shows me her belly. "Thank you. My friends say she looks like a gargoyle." He kneels next to me, stroking her as well. "But she is so cute. Cute lil' tuna." I reply, squishing her droopy cheeks. "So, I had to pull some strings and ask a few people, but, I got you something." Luke states, getting up and bringing a baby blue box near me. I look at him suspiciously, making him prompt me to open the lid. Inside I find a bunch of vinyl, all from his band. "I remember you said you have a vinyl player but not a lot of vinyl, so I thought since you told me you liked the 'Underwear song', I thought you should first get introduced to our records on vinyl. You said you like the sound and feel of vinyl, so... There, I guess." He seems a little awkward, scratching the back of his neck as he looks on the floor. I coo softly, running my fingers down the cover of the vinyl on top. "This is really the sweetest thing. Thank you." I lean in to press a kiss on his cheek, but as he raises his head to look at me, my lips land on his. It feels so weird, electricity hitting me straight away. And that was for just a moment.

We pull away from each other almost instantly, and I really look anywhere but him. Fuck, I screwed this up. "I am sorry. I didn't know you were... Fuck, sorry." He mumbles; I know he has seen how red I look right now. "It's ok... I... It was... nice." I struggle to let out the words, biting my lip as I turn to look at him. "Yeah, it was very nice... Pity, it ended so soon." He states, a little more confident now. I feel flustered, but excited, wanting nothing more than his lips on mine; he really, really has soft lips. "Well, we can always do it again..." I say self-assured, waiting for his reaction. "I guess you're right." He replies, smirking at me. "To be clear with you, I meant now. We can do it again now." I state and he chuckles. "Yeah, I got that." He assures me, scooting closer to me. His hand goes to my jaw, keeping my head steady as he leans in for a kiss. His lips are extremely soft, warm, and they go so slow against mine. I move closer to him, not breaking the kiss, and straddle his lap, bringing my hands to his shoulders to support myself. Hesitantly, his tongue makes his way past his lips and to mine, almost asking me for permission. I part my lips, letting his tongue slip in my mouth; it is actually very fun, having to test the waters with someone from scratch.

And then he moans into my mouth, he fucking moans into my mouth as if this isn't supposed to turn me on. His hands make their way down my neck, the grazing of his fingers making my skin erupt in goosebumps. I feel like a teenager, fooling around with my crush in a totally innocent way, but definitely having the horniest thoughts. "You are a fucking good kisser." He moans, pulling away from me to catch his breath. He stares at my lips, twisting a strand of my hair between his fingers. "You are not bad yourself either." I giggle, stroking my thumb over his cheek. "Lu, I... I don't wanna... I mean... I..." I stutter and he hums, pressing his lips on mine for a short moment. "We don't have to if you don't wanna. This is nice enough." He replies, making me feel warm inside. "Thank you." I utter, and he chuckles. "For what?" He asks, stroking my hair softly. "For respecting my boundaries. It is refreshing." I state, making him smile. "So, I was thinking of ordering some pizza and putting on some of the vinyl. I would love to be here when you discover more of my music." He suggests, resting his hands on my hips. I giggle, looking at him in the eye. "Would I destroy your plans if I said I have already listened to your albums on Spotify?" I ask him and he gasps. "You have? Crap, I would have loved to be there... Did you like them?" He asks me, staring at me excitedly. "I loved Youngblood. It was... fuck, it was beautiful. So lyrical. It had pain, hope, everything in between. I loved the rest as well, but Youngblood just stuck with me." I reply, bringing my hand to his hair. "If you liked Youngblood that much, you should wait until our next one drops. It is our best work to date." He states; he sounds so excited, so eager for it, it makes me feel woozy. "I can't wait." I lean in, bringing my lips to his.

I wake up in the morning by Petunia licking my face. I didn't realize I had fallen asleep, I last recall leaning my head on Luke's shoulder as the B side of Youngblood on vinyl started playing. And now I am laying on the couch, with a blanket covering my body and Petunia hovering above me. I giggle, sitting up and petting her before I get off the couch and fold the blanket. Petunia jumps off, walking slowly out of the room. I decide to follow her, hoping she will guide me to Luke, who is nowhere to be seen in the palpable house.

Petunia stops in front of Luke, who is standing by the stove, cracking eggs inside the pan. "Glad to see you are not putting them in the microwave..." I state, making him scoff and roll his eyes. "Sooo glad I send Petunia to wake you up." He mocks me, passing me a mug of coffee. "Why didn't you wake me up when you realized I fell asleep?" I ask, leaning my head on his shoulder as I watch the pan sizzle. "I remember you told me you don't like driving at night. And come on, I am not an asshole, of course, I would let you crush since you fell asleep on me." He protests, turning to look at me with knitted eyebrows. "So, you are not asshole enough to wake me up, but you are asshole enough to put me on the couch instead of a warm, nice, soft bed..." I point out and he hums. "You wake up in a stranger bed, the night after you told the guy you've been seeing for less than a month, that you don't want to take your make-out session any further than just that... How would you feel?" He asks me, putting the eggs on a plate. "Thoughtful. Thank you." I reply as he passes me the plate. I find it very sweet, actually wholesome that he went through the trail of thought, just to make sure I wouldn't get worried or upset. "Plus, I slept on the other couch. And my couches are comfortable as fuck." He replies, turning around to press a kiss on my lips.

"I need a drink. Definitely, at least one drink." Maya says as we get off the fire truck. I am still in shock, my heart pumping in my chest, even though it has been hours since we managed to contain the fire. "(Y/N), you joining?" She asks me. I stay speechless, thinking about the intensity of my night. "(Y/N)? Are you ok?" Maya asks, snapping her fingers in front of me. "I need a shower. And I need... Screw this, I need dick." I reply, leaving my helmet on the side. I rush to the locker room, going to my locker and picking up my towel, ignoring everyone else. I just hope he is home, that he is not having any interviews, any studio sessions, any fucking shit famous people have to do.

I knock on his door, bouncing on my feet as I wait. I am jittery, a bit nervous about seeing him now, but most certainly sure about how much I need him right now. He opens the door, smiling at me with his cheeks popping and his skin glowing with a beautiful flush. "Hi. I wasn't expecting you." He cheers, moving from the door for me. "Are you alone here?" I ask, fidgeting with my fingers as I look at him. "Yeah. Are you ok?" He asks me, looking at me a little worriedly. "You don't have anywhere to be, do you?" I ask, nearly pleading for him to say he is available. "No, I am free. (Y/N), are you ok? You seem, upset, to say the least." He asks me, putting his hand on my shoulder. "I will be. I need you." I state, looking at him in the eye. "You need me for what?" He asks in confusion. I huff and roll my eyes, frustrated about his innocence at this point. "Luke, I need you. Really need you." I repeat. "Oh." He manages to let out, staring at me as he licks his lips. "It's fine if you don't actually..." I begin but he pulls me in by my wrists and crashes his lips on mine. His fingers hook in the belt loops of my jeans, pulling me as close to his body as possible. "Bed?" He asks me and I shake my head no. "Here." I reply, sliding off my top and dropping it on the floor. He stares at me in shock, licking his lips hungrily at the sight. "Bed. Now." He growls, making my breath hitch in the back of my throat. I love the roughness he is letting through, my core pulsing for him. I nod my head, following him mesmerized and a little too excited for what's to come. "I'll go bring condoms. Make yourself cozy on the bed." He says, sternly, unbuttoning my jeans before he turns to walk away.

I walk into the bedroom, getting rid of my clothes. Thank God he didn't have to see me in the stupid floral panties I had as a spare in my locker. It's weird, standing in the bedroom, naked and alone while he is looking for condoms. I don't know where to stand, how to stand, how to basically wait for him... It is all weird and rushed and I... "Fuck me." I hear Luke from behind me. I turn around, finding him in his boxers, leaning against the door frame. "Yeah, that's the plan." I state, chuckling at him. "Smartass." He comments, walking to me. He pushes me on the bed softly, making me bounce against the mattress. I whimper in surprise, watching him hover over me. "Are you gonna fuck me, or..." I begin but he leans down, kissing me to shut me up. His hand travels down my body, grazing the curve above my hips softly before he reaches for low on my stomach. "I'm gonna touch you. Ok?" He asks me, tapping on my skin softly. I hum in agreement, letting him lower his hand to my sex. He brushes over my outer lips, making chills run along my spine. "Let's see how wet you are." He whispers, parting my lips and letting his finger slip on my clit. He runs his finger down, circling my entrance and picking up some wetness. "You really need me, huh?" He asks, making me nod vigorously. "What was that, pretty girl? Use words." He insists, pressing his fingers on my clit before he rubs on it slowly. I breathe out funny, causing him to smile. "I need you, Luke. I fucking need you so much. Please." I cry out, biting on my bottom lip. "You sound so good." He shakes his head, lowering his boxers and freeing his cock. I pulse around nothing; it looks so much better than I expected.

He slips the condom on quickly, stroking his length as he kneels between my legs. "Ready?" He asks me, gripping on my thigh as he angles my leg up and lines up to my entrance. I moan, watching him spread my legs more before he thrusts in me. "Fuck... Fuck, oh..." I moan, feeling him as he stretches my walls to accommodate his girth. "You are so fucking tight around me." He groans while I pulse. "Feels good, doesn't it?" I ask, causing him to smile at me. "Feels fucking awesome." He pulls out for a second before he slides back in. I reach down, digging my nails into his wrist as he pounds on me. "Harder." I beg, making his eyes glisten. His hand grips on my thigh, pushing it back until it nearly touches my chest, just to get access to me. He goes in harder, groaning as I tighten around him, his chest heaving as he looks at me with pleasure twisting his pretty face. "Luke..." I moan, turning my head so one side of my face is pressed against the sheets. "Yes, baby?" He asks, leaning closer to me to kiss my neck. I sigh; his lips feel like heaven on my skin. "Eat me out." I plead, arching my lower back as he thrusts in, even harder than before. I feel my stomach numbing and my brain going fuzzy at the edges. "What?" He asks through hushed breathing. "Eat me out..." I push his head down, sliding back to relax more on the bed. "Yes ma'am." He sighs, slipping out of me.

I try to take deep breaths while he settles in between my thighs. His lips travel along the inner part of my thigh, where it is soft and sensitive. I lick my lips, watching his messy head of golden curls get lost between my legs. He reaches my bikini line, bringing his tongue out to toy with it a little. I wiggle on my spot, becoming a little too ticklish. "I bet you taste so fucking good." He whispers, bringing my legs to his shoulders and scooting me closer. He parts my lips with his fingers, running his thumb over the wet part before he buries his face in. His tongue goes straight to my clit, circling it slowly and making me feel every stroke he is making. He sucks softly on it, keeping eye contact with me. Instinctively, my hand tangles in his locks, pulling at them as he lowers his tongue to my entrance. His nose is pressed against my clit, while he fucks me with his tongue; and I swear, he does it so well. "You are so good at this. Too good at this..." I tremble, making him chuckle against my core. "I was right. You taste so fucking good, baby." He resurfaces for a moment to draw in a breath, stroking his thumb over my clit. "God..." I cry out as he goes back to eating me out, focusing on my clit now and using his fingers to pump on the right spot inside me. "Oh fuck... Luke..." I moan, feeling my stomach tighten. I gulp the knot in my throat, my toes curling as this gets too good right now. "Stop, stop..." I tap out, making him nearly jump up. "What, did I do something wrong?" He asks, looking at me worriedly. "No, you did everything right. Everything. I just need you inside me... I am close and I want to cum around your cock. Please?" I gasp, making him nod, with his lips loose and his eyes scanning me. "You are going to keep me on my toes, aren't you?" He asks, wrapping my legs around his waist before he enters me again. He gives me all he's got, thrusting inside me at a fast pace. He goes deep, holding onto me by my thigh as I writhe underneath him. "Luke..." I moan while he pants for air. He reaches between our bodies, bringing his thumb on my throbbing clit and stroking it fast while he thrusts in me. "I know, princess. You are pulsing... It feels good around me..." He replies. I blink rapidly, arching off the mattress as I feel my orgasm get closer. "I wanna cum... I wanna cum so badly." I whimper. "Cum around me, baby." He encourages me, stroking my clit fast. I buck my hips up against his, keeping him inside me as I cum, walls convulsing and brain going into a spiral. I don't even mind how stupid my o-face looks, I just take my high, letting out slurred curses. "Fuck, princess..." He groans, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. He barely thrusts, sinking in the feeling with me.

He collapses next to me while I bring the covers to wrap them around my body. He smiles as he looks at the ceiling, while I still try to catch my breath. "Why today?" He asks, resting his weight on his elbow and looking at me. "What do you mean?" I ask him, turning on my side and facing him. "We've been out on so many dates, you've slept over my place 3 times, I've stayed at yours for a whole weekend. There were many opportunities for us to have sex, why today?" He asks me, scooting closer to me. "I... There was this call at work. It was a huge fire downtown, lots of flammable material, we've barely made it through with no casualties. And I... well, some colleagues were injured, not too serious, but heavy enough to be rushed to the hospital. I decided I didn't want to wait any longer. I like you, Luke. I really do. And I didn't want to hold back anymore. I decided to live the day, I don't know what will happen next time I get called to a fire or an accident, or... Whatever, you know. I like you too much to get hurt before having you, before getting to experiencing you in all your glory. So, I got off my uniform, jumped in the shower, put on whatever clean clothes I had, for god's sake I came over to have sex in floral underwear. And then I drove over, hoping that you would be here, so I could finally have you... And you were, and this was... magical, better than expected." I state and he gives me a side smirk. "Were you hurt? Were you in danger?" He asks me, bringing his hand to stroke my hair. "No, no, I am fine. I was just... Shocked." I reply and he hums. "Well, I am always here to help you feel better after calls. Any way I can." He licks his lips, looking at me softly. "Well, you are way better than drinking it away." I state, stroking his cheeks with my thumb. "Am I now?" He asks, cocking an eyebrow at me. "So much better than booze." I emphasize the words, making him hum happily. "I am famished... Wanna grab a bite somewhere?" He asks me, making me shake my head. "I'd much rather order in and have you on this bed for the rest of the day." I suggest and he sighs happily. "Sounds much better than what I suggested." He replies, tilting my chin up to bring his lips to mine.

"What's that smell?" I ask Luke as I walk into my kitchen. "Good morning to you too... Well, there wasn't much in your fridge, so I used your eggs and milk to make pancakes. You need to load up before you go to work." He replies, handing me a mug of coffee. "You are literally the best boyfriend ever." I state, standing on my toes to kiss his lips. "I know." He says cockily, moving his eyebrows. "But, you picked the most chill day to fill me up. I won't need the extra energy today." I state, sipping on my coffee. "Why?" He asks, flipping the pancake in the pan. "We have an open day today. Basically, a bunch of kids and their mothers will drop by, we will hand candy and badge stickers and let the children take pictures wearing helmets and climbing on the trucks." I reply and he makes this happy sound that makes my stomach jump. "Holy fuck, this is the coolest thing ever. Lucky kids." He cheers, making me chuckle at him. "You are welcome to drop by if you want." I propose, making him gasp in excitement. "Really? I've always wanted to climb on a truck." He pushes a pancake on my plate. "Sure. I'll just tell my captain that you're my boyfriend and you're harmless, no problem." I shrug my shoulders, smiling at how cute he actually is. "Great. I'll drop by and pick you up. We should really go grocery shopping for you." He states, walking to me and pressing his body against mine. I bring my hands around his neck, stroking the hair that cascades it. "I'll wear my pretty floral sundress, the one you like so much. We will make a date out of it." I smile, causing him to lick his lips and smile. "And then we come back and I cook for you." He whispers, placing his hands on my hips and pressing his lips on my forehead. "Do I really want you to? Need I remind you we only met because you burned down Calum's kitchen?" I ask and he scoffs. "First of all, it was part of the kitchen. And second, I have become so much better, you should really stop teasing me about it." He pouts and I coo at him. "I am not teasing you, I am just reminding you how we met." "I am kinda thankful I put that egg in the microwave..." He murmurs, pushing some strands of my hair away from my face. "Quick question about today's plans. Is sex anywhere on the schedule?" I ask and he hums. "With you, wearing that floral dress? Definitely lots of it." He replies, pressing his fingers under my chin and tilting my head back enough for him to reach my lips.

"(Y/L/N), your boyfriend is here." Clint announces, making me smile from ear to ear. "Hey, you, little girl. I leave you in charge of the candy. Everyone gets one. You are the captain now." I say to the little frizzy-haired girl who stands in the back of the queue. She walks up to me and I hand her my helmet along with the crater of candies before I walk away. Luke is by the entrance, smiling at me as I walk towards him. "You look hot in uniform..." He whispers in my ear as I hug him. "I know." I reply, kissing his cheek. "Come on in. I have a fake helmet, which will probably only fit Tuna, and candy and a shiny sticker budge for you." I say, taking his hand in mine. I guide him in, picking one of the helmets and handing it to him. "You really don't need to do that..." He mumbles and I hum sarcastically. "I am giving you the full experience." I reply, squeezing his hand. "You think this is funny?" He asks in surprise and I shrug. "Well, life is so miserable, we have to find ways to make every day a little funnier." I state, leaning my head on his shoulder. "Oh, Maya over there is going to give you your firetruck tour." I stop right in front of her, pushing Luke towards her. "There he is, the special little guy." She mocks, making me glare at her. "Go with her, I told her to be kind to you." I lean in and press a kiss on his cheek. I watch him from afar as Maya gives him a tour, enjoying him being excited as he climbs on. "He is cute." Clint stands by me, making me smirk. "He is." "Pretty nice guy." He comments and I nod. "I think he is the best." "You think?" "I know he is the best." "Good. Hope he knows I'll break his ribs if he breaks your heart." He says sternly. "Alright, Hulk. Let's calm down. He won't break my heart, not this guy." I smile, staring at Luke and the way his smile makes his whole face light up.

"I talked to your captain today. Neat guy, very cool dude." Luke comments as I serve the spaghetti on our plates. "Not so cool if you are working with him, but go on." I reply, making him chuckle. "Anyway, he actually told me what a hard worker you are and how you haven't taken personal days off since you started your service." He states and I shrug. "I didn't really have any reason to." I pass him his plate and he hums. "Well, it's time you do." "Why?" I ask him, eyebrows furrowed together. "Because I want you to join me on tour. We have a few dates in Europe, just 2 weeks and 3 days, and I really want you with me." He brings his lips to my forehead, resting his hands on the small of my back. "You know I can't afford that." I mumble and he sighs, running his thumb over the dip on my back. "I can! It will be our anniversary gift. And I know that you worry about your paycheck, but you really shouldn't. I wanna help you cover your expenses, I wanna help you with whatever you need." He rumbles, making me smile at him and what a sweetheart he is. "Europe sounds kinda fun." I mumble, rolling my eyes playfully. "It is. I promise. I will inform the management to take care of the details. I am so excited..." He squeals, pulling me to his chest for a hug. "You are squeezing me..." I giggle, feeling him nearly crash my ribcage. "I am sorry. I am so happy you are coming." He can't keep his dorky smile off his face, making me reach up to kiss him.

Luke's hand inches down my back, his lips pressing a kiss on my forehead while I trace a pattern on his chest. "This is the calmest I have been in the past month." I whisper, pressing my ear against his heart. "Glad to help with that." He says a little cockily. "I... I have been thinking about it for a while... I have been holding it in, which is really stupid, but..." I begin rambling, losing my words as I try to tell him how I feel. "I love you too." He smiles at me, tilting my chin up so he can look at my face. "Let me say it." I whine and he raises his hands in defeat. "I am not good at expressing feelings, I have always had a hard time not suppressing them, but I want to be honest with you and mostly myself. I love you. I feel safe with you, happy. It is weird because no one else has made me feel like that before, but you do and I just can't keep it in anymore. You make me happy, every single day. I love you." I say, looking at him as he smiles softly. "I love you too." He whispers, leaning closer to bring his lips to my lips.

He moves to straddle me, cupping my face in his hand as the other supports his weight on his elbow. "Shouldn't you be getting ready to leave for that interview?" I moan while his lips move to my chin and then my jaw. "In a bit..." He murmurs, his tongue peeking from between his lips and tracing a figure on my sweetspot. "Don't start things you can't finish..." I whine, throwing my head back further into the pillow the moment his hand goes from my face to my hip and then my lower stomach, toying with the hem of my underwear. "Oh, I can and I will finish." He chuckles, slipping a finger under the waistband of my underwear. His lips travel to my collarbone, sucking softly on the dip of them. I blink rapidly, still not used to the feeling of his lips on my skin. "I want you..." I utter, causing his hand to slip into my panties and cup my sex. He rubs his fingers on my clit, making me tense up at the stimulation. "Need to get your pretty little pussy wet for me first." He whispers, bringing his hand under my t-shirt. He brushes over my nipple, feeling the perked-up little bud before he brings his head under my t-shirt too. His mouth attaches to my breast right then, lips sucking hungrily as he lowers his fingers to my entrance. He pushes 2 fingers in, making my entrance stretch around his digits. He pumps them up, grazing over my spot with every move of his fingers. "You are so wet already. Were you thinking of me taking you?" He asks me, flicking his tongue over the tip of my nipple. "Please, Luke. We don't have much time. I don't want you leaving without finishing this..." I whine, squeezing my thighs together, causing the pressure on my spot to rise. "You are right." He brings his head out, making his hair fall messily on his face. He takes his hand out of my underwear, bringing his fingers to his lips. "Taste like heaven." He mumbles while he flips me on my stomach, raising my ass in the air.

"Look at fucking that..." He grips onto it hard; I swear, I will be covered in marks while this trip lasts. He lowers my panties, bringing the lacy underwear to my thighs and freeing my core to him. His thumb presses between my folds, stroking over and over again until he lines up the head of his cock to my entrance and thrusts forward. I gasp as he does, mouth going agape and hands gripping onto the pillow below me. He doesn't wait around for me to adjust before he thrusts into me with force. "Fuck... Fuck Luke..." I cry out, pulsing around him. "Shut up, princess. We don't want you being heard by everyone, do we?" He slaps my ass, pounding inside me. My stomach is tight, every thrust feeling like a punch in the gut. I grip onto the pillow harder, bouncing back to meet his thrusts. "You wanna fuck yourself on my cock, pretty girl? You wanna take my cock deep inside you?" He hisses, bringing his hand to the front of my body, grazing his fingertips over my clit. "Fuck, Luke... Fuck, I might cum now..." I whimper, turning my head to look at him. "Your little pussy is pulsing around me already. It feels so fucking good around my cock... But you will have to wait. Can you wait for me, babygirl?" He asks, rubbing his fingers on my clit fast, while his cock jams inside me, hitting on my cervix.

I whimper, shaking my head at him as I tug my bottom lip between my teeth. "Oh, I think you can, little brat." He chuckles, slowing down before he gives me a single powerful thrust, sending me a little forward. "I really can't. I wanna cum... Please." I beg, wiggling my hips and taking all of him inside me. "Cum and I'll make you regret it." He says sternly, slapping my clit as I squeeze around him, arching my back. Everything feels tingly, my toes curling as I moan louder with every thrust. "Please, Luke... I am a mess. Please..." I bet everything that my face is the reddest it has ever been. "Not... yet..." He hisses, becoming sloppy with his pounding. I fight with everything within me to hold back, trying not to focus too much on the sound his skin makes as it slaps against mine, or how good he feels, throbbing inside me. "Cum for me, pretty girl." He growls, grabbing my hips and forcing me to stay glued to him. I feel his cock pulse inside me, gasping as I hit my orgasm. My eyes go wide, my stomach tightens and I feel like collapsing on the mattress, but Luke keeps me steady, until he finally cums, pulling out of me and shooting over my ass. "Fuck, you look so good like that..." He praises, grabbing the tissue box from the nightstand.

I finally fall chest first on the mattress, gasping to catch my breath. "Am I supposed to let you leave me right now? Am I supposed to let you go to that interview now?" I ask and he chuckles. "I will be back very soon. By the time you're back from the spa and get ready for dinner, I will be here." He replies, pressing a kiss on the top of my ear. "Spa? Dinner?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows together. "Yes. I made a reservation for us tonight. Be pretty for me. Even prettier than you are now if it is possible..." He plants a kiss on the back of my neck. "Are you going to be pretty for me?" I ask and he hums. "The prettiest I can be." He whispers, making me smile. "What time should I be ready?" I ask and he takes a breath before replying. "Around 8:30. The reservation is at 9." He replies, nuzzling his nose in the crook of my neck.

"First day back from paradise, huh?" Maya asks, cocking an eyebrow playfully at me. "Yeah... I wish I was still there. I legit cried on the plane back home." I sigh, shutting my locker. She coos at me, patting my shoulder softly. "Was it that good?" She asks and I nod. "I didn't know life could be so stress-free. Well, for me, because he was on edge all the time. Shows, interviews, meet and greets. He had so much to do." I state, bringing the memory of him on tour in my brain. "Did he spend any time with you at all?" She asks and I nod, biting my bottom lip. "Every second he was free, he was with me. He was literally like a male protagonist from a romantic movie. He wined me, dined me, absolutely romanced me every chance he got. I thought I savored him enough to last me until the next time I would see him, but I was so wrong. I have been missing him since the second I went through the airport security." I pout and she chuckles at me sarcastically. "Poor baby (Y/N)..." She fake-coos at me, making me roll my eyes at her. "Don't tease. I mean, he has been on tour before since we have been together, but I miss him so badly right now, I would drop everything to go visit him again." I explain and she laughs, only to be stopped by the siren calling us to an emergency. "You'll tell me more afterward. And don't forget my gift." She points at me before running off while I slip my boots on.

I wait until the clock turns 12 so I can call Luke, who has probably just woken up in Germany. I press the facetime icon on my phone, bringing Petunia to my chest as I lay on the couch. "Hey, baby." I cheer, waving at him. He smirks and rubs his eyes, looking at the screen sleepily. "There are my girls... I've missed you both." He pouts, running his fingers through his messy locks. "We've missed you both as well. How's Germany?" I ask, stroking Petunia's head. "I haven't seen the city yet. We made it to Berlin late last night so we came straight to the hotel. I've been sleeping since. How was your first day back?" He asks me, smiling at me. "It was... eventful. We got called in for a house fire first thing in the morning. It was fine, everyone made it out of the house but the building is kinda fucked up. But I brought the first box of my stuff to your house." "You mean our house." He chuckles and I nod. "Yeah, I mean our house. It is still kinda hard to believe you asked me to move in." I admit and he moans happily. "You didn't see that coming? I was building the ground for so long. I've told you a million times that I love seeing your face first thing in the morning." He comments and I shrug. "There is a huge gap between saying you love seeing my face in the morning and actually asking me to move in with you, especially while you are on tour." I point out and he hums. "Did you eat anything today?" He asks, changing the topic. "Yeah, I went for drinks with Maya and grabbed a bite. Aren't you supposed to head to breakfast?" I ask and he nods. "In a bit. I wanna see your pretty face some more." He whines, making me smile at him. He looks so adorable sleepy, that if I was there, I would be cuddling him all day long. I just smile, taking in his face. "I miss you, pretty boy." I run my finger over my screen, pouting at him. "I miss you too, angel. I will be back before you know it, I promise." He assures me, eyes sparkling brightly.

I open my eyes, nearly going blind at the bright white lights above me. I look around, trying to blink until my vision becomes unblurred. There is a bunch of nurses around me, or at least I think they are nurses... A lot of people wearing medical clothes are surrounding me, making me panic. What happened to me? "Hey, hey. She is awake." One of the people on the medical team announces, making everyone turn to me. "(Y/N), stay calm..." One of the doctors tries to stop me from thrashing around. "(Y/N)... You were in a fire, you inhaled a lot of smoke, you lost consciousness due to monoxide poisoning. You need to keep the mask on." The doctor tries to explain. My head hurts, a headache forming to the front of my head and spreading to my temples. "(Y/N), you need to stay down. Follow my finger." One of the doctors steps in, moving her finger in front of my face, to a virtual line across my periphery. "Good. Now, squeeze my fingers." She instructs, placing her fingers in my palms. I squeeze her fingers and she nods, smiling at me. "Good, no signs of neurological deficiencies." She comments. I feel like I am hyperventilating, my eyes refusing to focus on anything.

My doctors decided to keep me in for observation, just to exclude the possibility of organ failure. The team cramped up in the room just an hour ago, but now I am left alone, moving my leg in jitters. My phone rings, making me pick it up from the little table next to my bed. I see Luke's contact pop up on my screen, bringing a smile to my face; he is the only person I really wanted to talk to right now. "Hey, bub." I smile as I accept the call and the video call goes live. Luke looks at me terrified, upset. I can tell he has been crying, his eyes are red and puffy and he looks tired. So, he knows... "Are you ok?" He asks me, gulping thickly. "I am fine. They are keeping me in for observation." I reply and he nods. He covers his face, sobbing and making my heart aching for him. "Baby, I am ok. I am fine, it is over. Hey, please don't cry." I try to console him, but he only sobs harder. "I... I can't do... I can't do this again... I thought I would die when they called me... I felt the earth crumble beneath my feet. I can't go through that again. I can't worry whether you'll make it home safe. I can't live in fear that something bad will happen to you..." I feel my heart stop, my stomach becoming tight and the urge to throw up taking over me. I bite the inside of my cheek and fight the tears that brim in my eyes, bracing myself for what I am about to say. "Say it. Say it, Luke. No need to be a coward now, say it." I nearly taunt him. "Please don't make it hard..." He pleads. I nod my head and swallow my pride, looking at him in the eye. "Ok, then. I'd hate to make this hard on you. It's over, Luke. I'll send Maya to pick up my stuff from your house and I will call Crystal to take care of Petunia." I say in my calmest voice, even though I feel like breaking down. "You don't have to... I mean, I won't be home for weeks and you can take your time." He suggests and I chuckle. "No need to worry about me anymore. Isn't that the reason you are breaking up with me?" I ask, but hang up before he could actually say anything more.

"Are you sure I can stay? Your boyfriend?" I ask Maya as she places pillows and covers on her couch. "He is fine... You can stay for as long as you need." She assures me, taking a seat on the armchair by the side of the couch. "I don't want to be a burden. I promise to find a new place within a week..." I state and she chuckles. "Yeah, yeah. No need to rush, stay as long as you want." She states, curling up on the armchair and bringing her beer to her lips. "You know, I thought he was the one... I thought we would last." I utter, leaning my head against the back of the couch. "I thought you would too, kid." She smiles sympathetically.

We rush out of the firetruck, heading towards the burning house. "You stay in the med truck." Captain orders and I nod. I haven't been cleared for duty yet, even though there have passed several weeks since the incident. I honestly don't trust myself either. Not only because the monoxide poisoning was traumatic, but the breakup has taken a huge toll on me. I have been living alone for a couple of weeks now, but I can't bring myself to actually live in the empty apartment. I sit on the edge of the truck, swinging my legs as I wait. Med duty is the most boring in the beginning but full-on action after a while. All the burns and trauma, trying to keep the person safe until you reach the hospital, times like this make me love my job, make me grateful for my certification. "Hey, girl... Wanna switch?" Maya rushes to me, plastering a psycho smile on her face. "No. Why?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows together. "Nothing, I thought you might want to take a walk... I can cover for you." She points to the street, making me chuckle sarcastically. "I am good, thanks." I stand up as someone from the team calls for incoming. "My offer is open if you change your mind. Alright, bring him in." She calls moving from the entrance of the back of the truck.

Clint carries Luke in, making me freeze for a moment. He is still conscious, but he had to be carried in by someone. "Do you think she'll kill him?" He asks Maya as he leaves the gurney. "If she doesn't, I might." She threatens, eyeing Luke, who looks just as nervous as I do. "Guys, mind taking this elsewhere? I am not going to kill anyone." I state, giving them my death glare. "Let's put this on." I fix the oxygen mask on his face, but he lowers it before I could turn on the oxygen tank. "You need that. And I need you to put it on so I can take a look at the burn at your leg." I sigh, picking the mask again. He pushes my hand away softly, stopping me. "Luke, please." I tremble, looking at him with tear-glazed eyes. "One moment. Just give me a moment." He gasps before coughing. "No moment. You need that if you don't want your lungs to explode." I point out, fixing the elastic on the back of his head. He surrenders, letting me put the mask on his face. "Deep breaths." I suggest, moving to take a look at his leg. "Second degree... Let me clean this and dress it before we take you to a hospital." I say, turning around to grab the kit. I hear him take breaths, somewhat rhythmic, which is a good sign. At least he won't die in my hands.

"I can accompany him to the hospital if you'd like... You can go rest." Clint offers and I shake my head. "I am fine. Really." "Isn't this kinda like how you met?" "Kinda. But it doesn't matter. Work before anything. I got this. I'll meet you back at the station." I smile and he nods. "If you need anything..." "It is just a drop-off." I reply and he hums. "It's not and you know it. But you know yourself better." He waves me off, letting me climb back into the truck. I sit on my seat and buckle up, watching over at Luke. He tries to remove the mask, but I shake my head at him. "Don't." I breathe out, turning my head away.

"(Y/N), my office." My captain calls, making me sigh as I drop my cleaning rug in the tool kit. I walk towards the office, closing the door behind me. "The man you transferred to the hospital earlier refuses treatment if he doesn't talk to you first." He announces, making my eyes go wide. "Is he insane?" I ask, taking a sit on the chair in front of the desk. "You tell me. They have been trying to convince him but he says he will only do it if you go there. The doctors said that if he keeps refusing they will have to release him." "Can he do that?" I ask. "What, refuse treatment? Of course, he can." He states, shrugging his shoulders. "No, ask for me, practically blackmail me..." I explain. "Well, apparently... Why do you want to do, (Y/L/N)?" He asks me and I take a deep breath. "I can't let him receive no treatment for a second-degree burn. He is going to get infected." I reply, bouncing my leg and biting my lip. "Well, you can. But do you want to?" He asks me, making me throw my head back, look at the ceiling, and huff. "I will be back as soon as I can." I promise before I jump up.

I walk into the emergency room, already feeling that everything I felt the night he broke up with me is rushing back to me. "Hi, a patient asked for me. Male, in his twenty's, has a burn on the left leg, refuses treatment..." I explain and the nurse nods. "Bed 5. Please be fast, the ER is getting overwhelmed." He begs, pointing toward the beds. I smile politely before I turn to walk to Luke's bed. He is sitting there, cross-armed and furrowing until the moment he sees me. "Are you stupid?" I ask, looking at him sternly. "I broke up with you, do you really have to ask me that?" He asks and I roll my eyes at him. "Why aren't you letting them treat you?" I ask, trying to calm myself down. "You didn't let me talk to you in the truck. And I really want to talk to you, because I haven't slept in weeks." He says, huffing at me. "I'll listen to you, while you take the treatment you need." I say, surrendering if that means dumb-head is not going to get an infection. "I'll take that." He says, letting the doctor finally approach him. "I messed up. Big time..." He admits, hissing as the doctor washes the wound. "You need to be more specific. My captain is this close to putting me in suspension." I state, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "I broke up with you because I was scared of losing you. Because I was afraid of you getting hurt on duty. And then you got hurt and I nearly died at the thought of something worse happening to you. I thought breaking up with you would be the best choice, that I would finally get rid of the tightness in my chest, but I was so wrong. I was worried because I love you, and breaking up with you didn't stop that. I am still worried about you getting hurt, I am still waking up with a tightness to my chest, I am still wondering if you will be alright. Fuck, I don't know what more to say. I love you, I need you back, I can't go on without you. It is driving me insane." He explains through hisses as the doctor takes care of him. "What makes you think that you will feel calmer if we get back together? I am still going to have the same job, you are still going to have anxiety because that's what it is, you are having anxiety attacks. I can't get back with you and then have you break up with me. I can't go through that again. You left me when I was hurt, you broke up with me over a video call. Do you know how bad that hurt? Do you know what big of a toll it took over me?" I ask, trying to whisper so the whole hospital won't learn our business. "I am a piece of shit and I deserve you leaving me and never talking to me. But I love you, I love you... And I promise to do whatever it takes. You deserve better, and I want to become better for you. I'll... I will do anything. I will sign up for therapy, I will learn to live with this... I promise to do better, I will never hurt you again. Please." He begs. "Please tell me you didn't set the house on fire just so you could see me again..." I sigh, making Luke shake his head. "No. I left the stove on after cooking and fell asleep on the couch." He replies, making the doctor chuckle. "You truly are a mess without me..." I point out and he nods. "I can't even tell you how big of a mess I am ever since the breakup." He looks at me with pleading eyes. I shake my head and roll my eyes, walking a little closer to him. "Oh, Luke... What am I even going to do with you?" I ask, cupping his face in my palms. "Apply antibiotics cream on his wound and dress it up 2 times a day until the follow-up because I really don't think he is capable of doing it himself?" The doctor asks me and I nod, leaning in to kiss Luke softly. "I will make sure of it, doc." I say after we part, making Luke hum.

My Masterlist

[svnflowervol666]

Hiii I just read all your writings and I LOVED THEM 💖💖 So can you write a lil blurb where it's Y/N's birthday and he does some cute shit for her

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: tiny mention of smut (at the end)

Author’s Note: I absolutely ADORED writing this one. Thank you so much! Requests are open, so drop an idea into my inbox if you’ve got one! Take care and tpwk.

Just as she was finishing up her makeup in the bathroom before work, an unflattering photo of her longtime boyfriend wearing a bright green face mask illuminated her phone screen, signifying that he was trying to facetime with her. The photo always made her laugh no matter how hard her day had been, so she’d set it as his contact photo.

“Hello my beautiful boy,” Y/N sang when the call adjusted and she could finally see Harry’s face smiling at her from ear to ear.

“And hello to you too, my beautiful birthday girl!” Harry exclaimed right back.

Much to his protest, Harry had ended up smack dab in the middle of a North American tour on his girlfriend’s birthday. He’d tried his hardest to schedule a break in between today so he would be able to spend some time with her on her special day, but it didn’t end up working out and both Harry and Y/N were fairly bummed about it. 

“Thank you, love,” she grinned into the camera, making Harry’s heart soar. 

“Ye’ getting ready f’ work?”

“Unfortunately,” Y/N faked a pout, “Should be an easy day, though. What about you?”

“Just got back to m’ hotel room. Show tonight was great. I wish you could’ve gotten off work to hop on tour for a few days.”

“You know how my boss is,” Y/N sounded somewhat sad and it made Harry’s chest feel tight knowing how badly she had wanted to come visit him.

“Hmm,” Harry pondered, “’M starting t’ think she’s got a crush on me n’ that’s why she never gives you any days off.”

This made a laugh blossom from deep in Y/N’s belly.

“Everyone’s got a crush on you, bubby.”

“Too bad I’ve only got eyes f’ you. Anyways,” Harry quickly moved on to the next subject.

“I’ve called you to tell you where I’ve hidden your birthday present.”

“Harry,” Y/N scolded him, “I told you not to get me anything.”

“Yeah, well, ye’ know I wasn’t gonna listen. Love spoilin’ ya. It’s in the back of my underwear drawer. Should be a little velvet box.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry to which he blew her a cheeky kiss through the screen in response. She grabbed her phone while she traveled from the bathroom into their bedroom and began riffling through Harry’s intimates drawer. 

“Quick question, H. Why your underwear drawer?”

All Harry could see of Y/N was her forehead while her fingers moved past his folded up boxers and dug for the small gift.

“It’s the only thing of mine you don’t steal. Figured it’d be least likely t’ be found if I kept it in there when I left.”

“Touche, my love. Alright, I’ve got it. Want me to open it now?”

“It would kinda make sense to, now, wouldn’t it?”

“You’re such a smartass.”

“You love me anyway.”

She chuckled as she propped her cell phone up against her bedside lamp so Harry could see her reaction when she found out what was inside. When she removed the small metallic bow that was placed on top, she lifted the lid and her expression turned into one of confusion and uncertainty.

“Is this the ring that you lost a few months ago?”

Indeed, it was. It was Y/N’s favorite out of the hefty collection of rings that Harry hoarded. Sometimes, Harry would let her pick out which rings he wore and her eyes always landed on that one. She was never able to give him a reason other than she was simply drawn to it; the way it danced in the sunlight when his hand stuck out from the covers in the morning, the way it accentuated his perfect, long fingers. 

Or perhaps, there was a reason why she loved it so much. This ring in particular was one that Harry had purchased from a local jewler when they were on a holiday in Greece. That very same night, Harry had gotten wine-drunk (more like wine-wasted) and had confessed a secret to her. 

“You know something, Y/n?” he drunkenly babbled whilst wagged his finger adorned with his new ring in her face, “I’m gonna marry you one day.”

She’d never bring the memory back up to Harry, however she was never able to forget that night or his ring waving itself right in front of his face. It was just another one of those moments where she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Harry was the one for her. Knowing this, one could have seen why Y/N had gotten rather upset when Harry had revealed to her that he had “misplaced it” and had no earthly idea where it had gone. Unbeknownst to her, Harry hadn’t actually lost it at all.

“It is. I didn’t actually lose it. I know ye’ love it, so I had it sized down to fit your finger. Do ye’ like it?”

“I love it. Thank you, Harry.”

Y/N felt her eyes instinctively well up with tears. She hadn’t told Harry, but she always had a hard time whenever he was gone for prolonged periods of time. The bed was always cold, her meals didn’t taste as good, and there was no one there to hold her when her day went less than ideal. Knowing how much thought went into a gift like this only widened the hole in her heart that appeared every time Harry left for tour.

“Aww, don’t cry, lovie. Not on your birthday.”

Y/N gently wiped the corners of her eyes and shook her head, “I’m good. Promise. Just miss you a lot is all.”

“Miss you too, baby. I wish I wasn’t so far away from ye’.”

“It’s only a few more weeks, right? I’ll survive,” Y/N stood up from where she was sat on the bed and straightened out her blouse before picking the phone up from the nightstand, “Guess I should probably head out now.”

“Alright,” Harry reassured her with a wrinkle in his brow. 

He absolutely hated knowing that his girl was upset. Not only because it was her birthday, a day that was all about celebrating her, but because he was on another continent and couldn’t be there to soothe her.

“I’ll call you again tonight. Sound good?”

“Sounds great.”

“Have a good day, Y/N,” Harry said sincerely.

“I’ll try.”

They exchanged one last loving look before Y/N ended the call and left the house she shared with Harry to go to work.

Her day wasn’t half as bad as she’d envisioned it to be. Upon arrival, her coworkers greeted her with her favorite coffee and donuts accompanied by a plethora of multi-colored balloons tossed about the office space. Everyone was extra nice to her and offered to take on some of her paperwork for her, which she certainly didn’t mind. Around lunchtime, she received a massive delivery of canary yellow sunflowers from the one and only, Harry Styles. Attached to the bouquet was a simple note card that read, For my sunflower on her special day. -H. This earned her a series of hoots and hollers from the other employees at the office (and she almost swears a scolding look from her boss), which she promptly brushed off and continued on working.

On the long drive home, she’d chatted with her small, close group of friends about the outing they had planned for her that weekend. It was mostly about the bars they had planned on going to and about how wasted they knew they were going to be, but even the playful banter in between them couldn’t manage to pull Y/N out of the funk she was in. Sure, she could put on a happy face and act like she enjoyed the attention she was receiving for her birthday, but none of it really meant much when the one person she cared about most wasn’t there to celebrate with her.

When she opened the front door she was hit by the overwhelming scent of aromatics coming from her kitchen. She hadn’t cooked anything this smelly in at least a few days and she certainly didn’t recall smelling it on her way out the door this morning, so her senses were on high alert. Her finger hovered over the emergency button on her cell phone as she rounded the corner, only to be greeted by a tall, curly-headed man-child boiling pasta in his periwinkle-colored bathrobe.

“Harry?!”

“Fuck,” he cursed aloud, “I didn’t think you’d be home this early. I thought I’d have it all done before you got here.”

Typical Harry. The boy’s got big ideas, but his ability to pull them off seldom comes to fruition.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Come kiss me, stupid.”

Harry took a few long strides over to his girlfriend and engulfed her in a bone-crushing hug and kiss, one that left her breathless and feeling full of love. His lips worked passionately against her own and the tip of his tongue prodded at her bottom lip, just the way that he knew she liked. When he pulled back from holding her mouth against his, he saw that she was really crying this time, unable to stop the flow of salty tears from running down her cheekbones and down her chin.

“What are you even doing here?” she asked Harry as he wiped her tears with the pads of this thumb. “I thought you had a show tonight.”

“You see, Y/N. Time zones can be a beautiful thing. I found out I could make it here with a few hours t’ spare before my next show, so I hopped on a plane right after I got off the phone w’ you.”

“You didn’t have to do this, Harry.”

“But I wanted to. Hated seeing you upset this mornin’.”

He noticed she was twiddling the ring he’d gifted her this morning around her finger, to which he raised her hand and inspected it with his own eyes instead of through his phone screen.

“Looks good on you, dunnit?”

Y/N nodded her head, still unable to comprehend that her boyfriend had flown across the globe to see her on her birthday. There weren’t many people on this earth like Harry, and she had never felt happier to know that she had the privilege of being loved by one.

“I love it, H. I really do. Thank you. For all of this.”

She moved her hand away from Harry’s face to kiss his lips once more.

“How long are you staying?” she continued.

Harry sighed, “’ve got to leave at 2am to make it to the show on time.”

“That’s alright. Any time is better than no time.”

“Exactly,” Harry agreed with his love, “So why don’t ye’ go upstairs and change while I finish cookin’ so we can make the most of it, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back,” she pulled him in for a third kiss before reluctantly leaving Harry’s side to take off her uncomfortable work clothes.

Just as she ascended the steps that led to their bedroom, she heard Harry call out.

“Actually, don’t bother! It’s not like you’ll have your clothes on for very long anyway!”

[harryskalechips]

Will we ever be more than friends? Part 3

A/N this is crazy! Here is part 3 that many were asking for! This is a continuation of one the first pieces I wrote on here. Tysm for the support xxx

It’s been four years since Y/N broke her friendship off with Harry. How is she going to react after seeing him at their high school reunion and finding out he’s still in love with her?

Word count 2135

Part 1, Part 2

4 years later...

“Y/N, you made it!” Sarah hugs me as she greets me at the front door. It’s been 4 years since I’ve seen her and truthfully, I wouldn't be here tonight if it wasn’t our little mini high school reunion. I never knew this party was happening well, not until Kacey, my only friend I still talk to from high school reached out and convinced me.

“Your apartment looks lovely!” I smile as she lets me in. I take my jacket off and rest it on one of her hooks as I step further inside.

“Thank you!” Sarah’s eyes light up with excitement as she takes my hand.“ I didn’t invite everyone from our year.,just to let you know! I only invited our friend group.” she rambles while she drags me where most of the people are.

Sarah. I liked her in high school. We had a couple classes together and we did hang out at the mall a couple times but things got awkward when she started dating Harry. After they broke up, she never reached out to me again and that's when I realized she was just using me.

People say high school is the most memorable time of their life but for me, I was traded the wrong deck of cards.

“Y/N!” Kacey stands up from the couch to hug me. I almost fell over from the amount of force she had. “I knew you would come!”

“Well, you did present a good case.” I smirk as Tyler opens a can of smirnoff ice and passes it to me. “Thanks, Ty! You look good.” I pull away from Kacey and hug him. Alice, and Joseph were there too as they greeted me with a hello and sat back down on the couch.

“Okay, we’re missing one more person from our lil friend group.” Sarah pouts and texts someone on her phone. I knew she was talking about Harry but for some reason, I was hoping it was someone else.

“H. Man! Where is that guy?” Joseph takes a handful of chips from the bowl presented in front of us.

“Wait, didn’t you and Harry date?” Alice calls me out as I take a sip from my drink. I just shake my head and lean on Kacey beside me. She knew what happened between us that night but no one else heard a thing.

But it’s simple really, if I were to tell them the story. Harry and I were best friends. I was in love with him and he knew. He continued to string me along for years and that’s when I decided we should stop being friends. I’m not gonna lie though, it was pretty rough to see him during graduation and not even get a picture with him.  

“That’s crazy! Everyone at least had a date with him.” Alice laughs as Joseph puts his arm around her.

“Well, what’s also crazy is that you’re dating me.” Alice kisses him on the cheek. I never expected them to get together. Alice hated him since he was such a class clown. It’s nice to see him more mature and finally dating her though.

“Ah he’s here! I heard he got more cuter!” Sarah puts on a playful face as she hops off the couch to open her door. The rest of our friends cheered for Harry’s entrance while I stayed quiet just looking at Kacey. My heart was beating way too fast and my fingers were gripping my drink a little bit too hard. But as much as I tried to ignore my anxiety, Sarah appeared right in front of us.“Ladies and gentlemen let me announce the heartthrob of our year... Harry Styles!” Alice  and Kacey cheer excitedly as the boys playfully cat whistle. Sarah moves aside, and that’s when my eyes catch his figure.. there he is. He’s finally here.

He’s wearing a simple white button up and black jeans. As he looks up, he has a little smirk on his face as he bows his head to everyone as a playful gesture of appreciation. “Heard everyone’s been looking for me.” He glances at me and looks away. He doesn’t even seem affected that I’m here! He goes around kissing the girls on the cheeks and giving some hugs to the guys. I knew he was purposely ignoring me, since he wanted to greet me last.

“Hey.” He murmurs against my cheek as he leans down to kiss me.

“Hey. Long time no see.” I lean over to give him a hug.

“Are you two seriously going to act like that?” Tyler teases us. “You guys were best friends for 10 years!” Sarah laughs at Tyler’s joke as she comes with pizza in her arms.

“Kace, can you clear the table?” She asks politely as she puts the pizza down. “Wow, I haven’t seen you guys in 4 years. Time passes by so quickly.”

“I know right!” Alice cheers excitedly. “Now, we’re all about to graduate university!”

~

The night went by in a breeze. After dinner, we played some board games and caught up with each other. Now it was only Harry and I left to share what we’ve been up to.

“I’ve been good. I don’t think there’s anything new with me.” Harry casually laughs as he sits across from me beside Tyler.

“Come on man! Look at what you’re wearing! You’re a new guy!” Tyler elbows him which makes Harry look up at me. Fuck, he just caught me staring.

“I’ve been working at my dad’s company that’s all. Trust me nothing new!”

“No new girlfriend?” Sarah teases him. He just shakes his head and takes a sip from his bottle of beer. “What? No, come on you aren’t fooling anyone here!” Sarah tries to pull the truth out of him. It seemed to me she was a little bit too interested in what he had to say which made me just roll my eyes.

“I dated a few girls but no nothing serious.” Tyler cheers him on as he puts his arm around him and smiles.

“See! Too young to settle down!” Kacey just laughs while Joseph shakes his head.

“Tyler, you just haven’t been in love yet!” He tries to reason. “Harry, you probably haven’t been in love too huh?”

“Oh, no I have been.”

“What!” Tyler chokes as Joseph louds out loud. Alice and Sarah are shocked while Kacey and I just smile at their reaction and quietly listen.

“Who was it?” Tyler questions. “Some girl from your uni?”

“No, she went to high school with us.” Harry avoids my eye contact and laughs at Tyler’s curiosity.

“That better not be me, Styles.” Sarah takes another slice of our leftover pizza. Kacey looks at me while I just look down. Why does everything have to be so weird?

“I bet it’s Y/N. Remember how they would cuddle all the time!” Alice speaks out as if she just solved the puzzle. Which she did. Everyone looks at me which makes my little invisible bubble pop.

“No, it’s not me.” I shake my head. I don’t wanna think of it. I don’t want to think of this.

For the rest of the night, the guys try to make Harry tell the truth but he keeps his mouth shut. I tried to have fun despite all the attention on him but, now that our hangout is over, it’s time to go home.

“I’ll see you guys four years from now!” I joke as I put on my jacket.

“Y/N seriously, keep in touch. We miss you.” Alice hugs me.

“I miss you guys too. It’s nice catching up with you guys.” I genuinely reply back. Although I stopped talking to everyone here, I do miss them. It's nostalgic.

“How are you getting home?” Joseph asks me as he puts on his jacket too.

“Just taking an uber, my car’s in the shop.”

“I can ask Josh to drop you off?” Kacey suggests but I rather be on my own than let her fiancé go out of his way for me.

“I can drive you home.” Harry opens the front door.

“No, guys it’s okay.” I try to brush them off but Harry softly grabs my hand as he bids everyone goodbye.

“Okay, Y/N and I are going to go, goodnight guys!” He waves at our friends as he pulls me to his car. I give everyone a confused look and let Harry pull me away.

“Harry, you don’t have to drop me off.” I try to convince him but he doesn’t let my hand go until he opens my door and helps me into his car. I finally give up and put my seatbelt on as he gets into his seat too.

“Where do you live?” He asks as he zooms out of Sarah’s driveway.

“In Richmond.”

“Can you put the address on my GPS?” He turns it on and points it at me. It was weird between us. There’s this big elephant between us but we’re acting like we’re over it. I just nod my head and do it.

As we drive to my place, I just watch the street lights pass by and listen to his music. Harry seemed like something was bothering him since he kept his jaw clenched. “You okay?” I try to ask him.

“Fine. What about you?”

“I’m okay.”

“Look Y/N...I’ve just been thinking and I’m wondering when we get to your place... could we maybe I don’t know...talk?”

“About us?” There was no point of acting oblivious to this. What happened between us years ago still plays in my mind.  

“Yeah.” He stutters as he looks at me.

~

“Lovely townhouse you got here.” He walks in with me as I open my door.

“Thanks, I got a few roommates but they’re probably in bed. Um, You can sit in the living room.” I gesture him to the room as I take my jacket off. “Would you like some tea?”

“No, thanks.” He sits down while I sit next to him.

“Okay, let’s talk. What’s up?” “How have you been?”

“Good, what about you?”

“Thanks. I’ve been doing well too. Are you um...seeing anyone?” He asks out of the blue. “It’s just everyone spoke up about their love lives and you didn’t really say anything.” I awkwardly laugh at his question. I mean I’m not surprised he asked out of the blue. We used to be so close.  

“No, I broke up with my boyfriend a couple months ago.”

“Long term?” “Yeah, we dated for 2 years.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear about that.” He just shakes his head while I laugh at his awkwardness.

“Harry, it’s fine. It’s nice to see you through and catch up.”

“Y/N I have- I have to tell you something.”

“Okay.” I try to brace myself. I may have known him for years but I have no idea what he’s going to say.

“I miss you.”

“Harry.”

“Please, Y/N. Just give me another chance.” He turns towards me. “I’ve been trying to talk to you after our fight but you just completely cut me off.”

“You used me!” I exclaim.

“You don’t understand. I didn’t want to lose you!” He rubs his face in stress. “And I did. I did lose you!”

“Why do you even still want me? It’s been four years Harry maybe, it’s better if we just let the past go.” I stand up and try to walk away but Harry grabs my hands and keeps me in between his legs.

“You don’t mean that, Y/N.” his sad eyes look at me. “I miss you. Didn’t you miss me too?” he whispers as he tries to shake my hands. He was desperate for me to say the words he missed coming from my mouth. “Of course I did!”

“I don’t care if you don’t love me anymore or if you don’t want to be best friends. I just need you in my life again.”

“I’m scared to be you again.”

“I love you.” He leans down and rests his head on my stomach as he tries to pull me in closer. My hands fall into his hair and play with the curly strands just like I used to high school. “I was stupid and immature in high school but I’m ready to be the man you deserve. I just want you with me again.” “I love you Harry.” I pull his face up and lean down to kiss him. His hands urgently grasps my face as he helps me straddle him on the couch.

“I always knew we were going to be more than friends, baby.” He whispers to me as he pulls away and smiles at me.

[threeletterslife]

Nothing a Lil Green Can’t Fix

→ summary: Imagine having a best friend so crazy you have to have 911 on speed dial. Turns out that you are that friend. And it's up to Park Jimin to keep you from facing disaster.

→ pairing/rating: jimin x reader | PG-15

→ genre: i love bittersweet stories 🥺 so this is basically fluff all the way but angst lurking in the background | coming of age!au

→ warnings: profanity, mentions of death, divorce, heartbreak (like pretty fucking sad shit), implied sex

→ wordcount: 19.2k

→ a/n: i had so much fun writing this! a HUGE thank you to all of my friends & beta readers who helped me not make a big embarrassment out of myself LOL. a round of applause and special thanks to @aaugustlee​​, @fangirlfeelz​, @bangtansgalaxie​, @byuncaa​, @yunjikim021​ for putting up with my unedited writing! (: ALSO a huge HUGE thank you to @justastar​ for this BEAUTIFUL mood board 🤩

♫: Who by Lauv (feat. BTS) | Say Something by Pentatonix | Inner Child by BTS

cr.

When Jimin was younger, he knew superheroes existed. After all, his own mother was one of them. She cooked, washed the clothes, taught Jimin the alphabet, ran the grocery errands, worked from home, read Jimin a bedtime story and tucked him into bed—which was her daily schedule. She was strong, loving and caring. The things every mother should be. She handled problems better than she handled her emotions, that woman.

Which was probably why she cheated on Jimin's father. Jimin was only five when he heard the shouts and screams coming from downstairs. He remembers how frightened he had been, gripping his pillow and trying to drown the sound of yelling with his blankets. Only shortly after that night, his mother had packed her bags and left. Jimin never saw her again.

But life wasn't too bad after that. You had shown up, after all.

Even though Jimin's once perfect family was ruined, he didn't mind too much. When he's with you, he forgets about all of his other problems.

You'd first waddled up to him in his kindergarten class with a green marker in hand. "Can you please color me green?" you'd politely asked.

If Jimin's mother taught him one thing before she walked out of his life, she'd taught him manners. So when you, a complete stranger, had been so polite about a request that didn't look like it'd do much harm, Jimin complied.

He helped you color yourself green. Halfway through the process, he'd said: "Why are we coloring you green?"

You'd laughed out loud, grinning as you announced emphatically, "BECAUSE GREEN IS THE BESTEST COLOR EVER!"

You hate it when Jimin teases you of your first encounter with him. Mainly because you had yelled out 'bestest' at the top of your lungs that day and 'bestest' is most definitely not a word. (You're kind of a grammar freak.) Not to mention, both of you had gotten into huge trouble for coloring you green that day. Jimin had cried when the teacher had scolded the two of you, but you had shrugged, patted Jimin on the back and boldly asked the teacher, "Would you like to be colored green as well?"

You were banished to the time out chair and your star got moved down two slots into the angry orange section instead of the happy green. Jimin had felt sorry for you, but you didn't seem like you cared that much. Your skin was your favorite color. How could you not be happy?

Later that same day, you'd declared Jimin your best friend. And then you had taught him your secret language so no imbecile could eavesdrop on your private conversations. Jimin thought you were the coolest human being alive.

Jimin still thinks you're the coolest human being alive.

He's thirteen and waiting for you outside of your house so both of you can walk to school together. Walking to school side by side has been a tradition ever since you were little, too. It was also a tradition that you were always a few minutes late.

You suddenly bust out of the door with half a bagel in your mouth and your hair a frenzied mess. "Bye Granny!" you yell as the door slams shut. "Let's go!" you exclaim to Jimin in your secret language as he nods in agreement. The two of you begin to walk to school.

"What are you today?" he asks as he looks over at your outfit of the day. You're wearing black cargo pants, a black mesh top with a black tank top underneath, big, black boots and metal chains around your neck. You like to keep your fashion choices interesting by having a different style every day. You've already tried prim and proper, goth, princess and tomboy. But this... Well, this was something definitely new.

"I'm a bad girl." You grin, chomping down on the rest of your breakfast and brushing your hands together to get rid of the crumbs.

Jimin frowns. "You're gonna get dress coded," he says but upon your disappointed look, he sighs. "You're gonna get dress coded," he says in the secret language.

"Am not."

"Are too."

You roll your eyes, flipping your messy hair over your shoulder. "They can dress code me. Fine. I'll go to school in my underwear the next day, then."

Jimin laughs, shaking his head. "They'll send you to juvie."

You snort, throwing your head back in a fit of laughter. "Oh, Jimin, I—" You suddenly gasp, hand flying into your pocket to fish out your favorite green permanent marker. Its name is Gilbert.

"Grammar error?" Jimin asks.

"Yeah," you sigh, shaking your head in disdain. "Over there."

There's a sign in front of a local coffee shop that painstakingly reads: free cakes everyday after four!

"They forgot the space between 'everyday,' " you huff, so disappointed that you forget to speak in the secret language. "Wait right here."

Jimin stops walking, watching you quickly stroll over to the sign and circling the word, 'everyday' with Gilbert and marking in all caps right next to it: NEEDS SPACE.

You make your way over to Jimin again, sighing. "When will people learn?"

"Not everyone is good at grammar, Y/N," Jimin reminds you. "I think you're being a bit of a grammar Nazi."

You scoff. "So what if I am a grammar Nazi? Do you think it's acceptable to parade around town using the wrong 'everyday?' " You throw your hands in the air for dramatic emphasis.

"I mean, everybody makes mistakes," Jimin tries.

You huff, crossing your arms. "Yeah, like your outfit," you grumble. "You forgot to hook a strap of your overalls over your shoulder."

"Hey!" Jimin says. "It's fashion!"

"It's ridiculous," you counter. "It's like you're trying to show off your man chest."

"Well, you're trying to show off your girl chest."

You gasp, gazing down at your black mesh top before realizing Jimin's actually right—this stupid top does expose a lot of you to the public's scrutiny. "Don't look there, idiot!" you say. "Perve."

"What am I supposed to do? Not look at it?"

"Yes!" you say very indignantly. "A true gentleman would not look!"

"But it's right in front of my face!"

"You know what, Jimin? You can walk to school alone!" You start dashing away from Jimin, your heavy boots thumping on the concrete.

"Wait! Y/N!"

Though you might've won the fight at that moment, Jimin becomes the real winner when you come out of your house the next day wearing a turtleneck that covers your whole upper half and modest boot cut jeans with white sneakers.

"What are you today?" Jimin teases in the secret language.

"Shut up," you mutter. "Let's go."

Jimin happily obliges, skipping his way to school as you grumble, following right behind him.

Sometimes Jimin wonders what he would do without you. You were the angelic figure that had swept him off his feet when he needed a good distraction from reality. You had stepped in when his mother had stepped out. And he loves you no matter how weird you are.

"Jimin?" you ask, your head propped against his chest as his arm wraps around you. Both of you are staring up at the blue sky with sunglasses on.

"Hmm?"

"I think I can speak to the weather," you confess in the secret language, grinning wildly as you watch the clouds shift in the blue sky. "It was probably my fourteenth birthday gift from the universe, you know?"

Jimin loves how you never grew up. You were the same Y/N he knew in kindergarten with a big imagination and overflowing creativity—only smarter, taller and more beautiful.

"You can speak to the weather?" Jimin asks.

You nod. "I'm making it sunny right now."

"Really?"

You snuggle into his chest, clinging to his warmth as you laugh. "I control it with my emotions. I'm so happy right now that the sun can't help but shine upon us."

Jimin's heartbeat quickens as you clutch onto his t-shirt, but he tries to play it off. "And why are you so happy right now?"

"It's summertime!" you exclaim, suddenly jumping up and out of Jimin's arms. "We'll be in high school this year!! And you know how much I love hanging out with my best friend."

Jimin smiles, though he wonders if you'll ever love him the same way he loves you.

"You know," you sigh as you trudge down the steps of your apartment building in a large green raincoat and white boots with a glazed donut in your hand. "I'm feeling pretty horrible today. I think it's going to rain."

Jimin nods as he looks up at the sky. Sure enough, the rain clouds are settling in, painting the sky a dark gray. "That's not a good way to start off the first day of high school."

"It really isn't," you sigh.

"Is it your granny?" Jimin whispers in the secret language as both of you begin to walk to your new school.

You flinch. "She's just... she's not feeling too well, you know?"

"I'm sorry," Jimin says. "Do you know what it is?"

"She won't fucking tell me," you groan, handing your donut to Jimin. "I don't want it. Do you?"

It's Jimin's favorite food: a glazed donut, so he takes it and munches on it. Something tells him that you saved it just for him. "Thanks," he says. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No..." You shake your head, your lips that had been set in a stern lip suddenly curving up to reveal a bright smile. "Sorry, I'm totally killing the mood. We should be excited! High school, right?? Oh my god, do you think we're all going to dance in the gym like we're all in it together??"

"That stuff only happens in the movies," Jimin chuckles as he finishes the last of your donut. But upon seeing your disappointed face, he offers: "No, we'll definitely dance around in the gym singing songs from High School Musical."

"That's more like it!" you exclaim.

Crazily enough, by the time the two of you reach the new school, the rain clouds have disappeared from the sky. Jimin looks over at you, who had taken off your raincoat to reveal a rather summery green t-shirt dress. Maybe you really can control the weather with your emotions.

Jimin admires how you don't give two flying fucks about social standards. You're brave enough to be yourself, to stray from society and not conform to stupid high school stereotypes. You're everything that he isn't. And in sophomore year in high school, you're wilder than ever before. Frankly, he thinks you're what everyone wants to be but is too afraid to be.

"Did you study for the AP chem test?" Jimin asks as he fidgets with pages and pages of notes in his hands.

You snort, tugging your favorite green jacket around yourself. "No. Why would I? It's just a test."

"But it's an important test," Jimin insists, eyes glazing over as he half listens to you and half crams last-minutely. "Last test to raise your grade before the final."

"My time's important too," you laugh. "I don't regret those six hours I spent reading yesterday. You know, I woke up so late today that I had to wear my pajamas to school."

Jimin glances down at your sweatpants and looks up at your tousled hair.

"Yeah," you say, "only had time to put on the nearest jacket. But it's kind of hot, isn't it?"

You're right. Ever since you helped nurse your granny back into top-notch health, the weather was perfect—always sunny and just slightly breezy. It matches your mood.

You shrug off your green jacket, folding it away. When Jimin notices your shirt underneath, he gasps out loud.

"Y/N!"

"What?"

"You're wearing those pajamas!" he exclaims in the secret language, frantically. "Do you wanna borrow my t-shirt or something?"

"What? No!" you cock your head. "What's so bad about my t-shirt right now?"

"Y/N, you're literally wearing a shirt with the periodic table on it. We're taking a chem test!"

"Oh, you're so funny, Jimin," you say, shaking your head. "It's just a t-shirt. No one will care."

Fast forward ten minutes later when your AP chem teacher calls you up before you sit down with your test and tells you that you need to put a jacket over your shirt.

"But Mr. Levitt!" you protest. "I don't want to be in a stuffy jacket when I'm taking a test!"

Mr. Levitt sighs, but after an intense one-minute staring contest in which you claim victory, he agrees to turn on the air conditioning. Silently, everyone thanks you (it's a hot day, after all) as you return to your seat with your jacket covering your shirt and your eyes sparkling with their usual mischief. Jimin thinks you might've elaborately planned this whole scheme out. Mr. Levitt is infamous for being a total tightwad on the AC, so maybe you thought you had to do something about it instead of studying for the test.

Naturally, you proceeded to completely bomb the chemistry exam.

"Ugh," Jimin groans the next day as you step out of your home with an apple in your mouth. "The scores are out. I got a 92%," he huffs. "That's barely gonna raise my grade."

You laugh out loud, tossing Jimin another apple that he gratefully catches. "I got a 43%. Deal with it."

"You're serious."

"I'm always serious," you giggle, twirling around in your rather nice-looking outfit. Jimin notices you took extra time to curl your hair and apply a sheer lipgloss on your lips. "Besides, you know, that test had so many grammatical errors that I couldn't possibly focus on the problems!" You scoff, shaking your head disdainfully as your eyes gloss over to remember the horror you saw the day before. "I had to whip out Gilbert and fix all the errors, you know? I didn't even get to look at half the questions on the test. But I'm pretty sure I got everything else right, though," you confidently announce. "Totally worth it. Mr. Levitt needs to learn a thing or two about dangling modifiers."

"But Y/N, you can't fail a class!" Jimin protests. He doesn't have the guts to tell you that you earned your 43% after a 13% curve—that in reality, you'd really gotten a 30%.

"I'm not failing," you giggle, "yet."

"What am I gonna do with you?"

You shrug, biting at your healthy breakfast and chewing slowly. "Anyways, do you like my outfit?" you ask in your secret language, totally changing the subject.

Jimin warily eyes your pretty skirt and button-down top. His face heats up just a little bit, but he forces himself to look away. "Why'd you dress up so much? You're going to fall down wearing those heels."

You roll your eyes so hard Jimin can see the whites of your eyes. "Google Earth always takes pictures, my friend," you sing. "If people see me walking down this street on that app, I want to look fabulous."

Jimin's learned a long time ago from experience to not believe everything you say. (One time when the two of you were six years old, you told Jimin if he waited in his garage at night without falling asleep, he'd see his father's old, battered Hyundai turn into a chivalrous robot—this was after you had watched Transformers with him at home—and Jimin had stupidly believed you. What followed was him staying up for three nights in a row, waiting for the car to morph in Optimus Prime. He was almost going to stay up for a fourth night until you had to put an end to his madness by telling him you were joking.) And there were many, many more times your large imagination had convinced Jimin something that wasn't real, was. But now, he knows when to take your words with a grain of salt.

Even so, the next day, he dresses up extra nicely. Just in case Google Earth is taking photos.

You pass sophomore year with mediocre grades, but by now, Jimin knows you don't really care much about your transcript.

Junior year is rumored to be the hardest of all in high school, a rumor that turns out to be quite true. Well, except for you.

Jimin's reading for his huge physics exam on his bed while you're propped up against the headboard, legs tangled absentmindedly with his. The two of you had been in that position for hours. Normally, you can't sit in one spot for more than forty-five minutes, but you must be concentrating on something because you'd been way too still and quiet for way too long.

"Hey, Y/N?" Jimin calls in the secret language. "You good?"

"Hmm," you hum. "Mhm."

When Jimin looks up, he sees you sewing. You must've gotten that sewing kit splayed before you from your granny. It's really endearing how much you love her and how much you're willing to do for her. She's the only family you've got left around here, and she's the one that has taken care of you since you were very young. Your granny is a lot like you, too. Jimin's heard from you that she likes watching extreme sports and hopes to become a three-time gold Olympic medalist snowboarder by the time she's dead (though she hasn't won a single snowboarding contest in her life). She loves fashion and enjoys taking you out to shop. She likes to preach that grades do not define intelligence. (It seems as though you've had that soaked in your brain for a very long time.) Her husband, Gilbert, was a grammar freak like her, but he passed away before you were born. You named your permanent green marker after him.

You don't like to talk about it, but your granny hasn't been in great health in the past few years. Jimin knows how much it's putting a strain on you, yet you insist that everything's completely fine before suggesting to embark on another wild journey.

"Are you sewing something on your favorite shorts?" Jimin asks, setting down his physics book.

You nod, tongue poking out of your lips as you concentrate. "It's a QR code."

"Oh, really?" Jimin becomes interested as he scoots closer to you so that your arms are touching.

"Yeah, so when I wear these scandalously short shorts and guys are checking out my ass, they'll see this QR code instead and dare to scan it, you know?" you smile proudly at yourself, setting down your sewing project as you lean again Jimin's shoulder. "Wanna know what comes up when you scan it?" you ask in the secret language.

"Yeah."

"Information about colorectal cancer."

"What?"

"Colorectal cancer. Colon cancer, Jimin." He notices the way your lips tremble slightly as the words spill out of your mouth. You're struggling to keep a straight face.

"Oh, Y/N... Your granny—"

"Yes," you cry out, tears starting to well up in your eyes. "Stage four, Jimin. Fucking stage four. She has about a year left."

"Y/N..."

You move in to hug Jimin, crying into his shirt as he wraps his arms around your waist, letting you cry in silence.

You don't like to cry. Jimin's only seen you cry one other time in his twelve years of friendship with you—when your granny had her first cancer scare a couple years back. To see you breaking down in front of him like this hurts him more than words can describe. You're usually so resilient; you wear a fierce smile on your face even when times are tough. But you'd have to take off your happy mask at some point.

He lets you sob into his chest, warm hands tracing circles on your back in hopes of soothing you. He never knows the right thing to say, unlike you, so he stays quiet.

It takes a few minutes but your sobs dwindle to soft sniffles, then to complete silence. Jimin holds you in his arms without complaint, savoring your warmth, hoping that just embracing you can help.

You pull away, wiping off the residue of your tears on your face with the back of your sleeve. "I'm so sorry, Jimin," you whisper, your hands tracing the wet patches of your tears on Jimin's shirt. "I think... I need to go home."

He doesn't stop you when you pack up your sewing kit and leave without another word. And he hates himself for being so cowardly.

But the next day, you come out of your house with a bright smile on your face. You're wearing the shorts with the QR code sewn on the back, proudly flaunting them to Jimin. He does everything so his eyes don't linger around your ass; in the end, he just looks away entirely.

You laugh when you see him blush, linking your arms together as you march to school. The sun's shining brightly today, but the streets are wet with the hard rain that had poured last night.

All too soon, senior year rolls by with summer just around the corner. You and Jimin make use of your lax time, no longer needing to worry about grades or academic productivity.

"You know, everyone has one deep fear," you confess, snuggling up against Jimin on the sofa in your room. "You know what mine is, right?"

Jimin nods. "Losing your granny."

"Good. Well, I think I know what yours is."

"Really?" Jimin asks, letting you rest your head on his chest as he plays with your hair.

"You're afraid of being left alone," you whisper. "You're especially afraid someone you love will leave you."

"Hmm..." Jimin hums. "Like my mother?"

"Yeah. But me too."

"You?" Jimin asks, bewildered, suddenly sitting up and moving away from you to stare into your eyes. "You're leaving?"

"Hey, relax," you giggle, shaking your head. "I'm not leaving forever. I'm just... I didn't tell you but... Granny passed away a few days ago. You know when it was raining really hard that night? Yeah, well that was because I was crying nonstop. She'd always wanted to be buried in Hawaii because that's where she met Gilbert. I'll be in Hawaii for a week—"

"Why don't you tell me anything until the last minute?" Jimin sighs. "You could've told me your granny passed away the day it happened. Why are you telling me now?" He struggles to keep his voice from trembling too hard. I didn't even get to say goodbye to her...

You shake your head, biting your lip to keep a straight face. "Because I knew I'd break down if I told you the day it happened."

"Y/N, it's okay to cry..."

"No, Jimin. It's not. I'm supposed to comfort you. I'm supposed to be the strong one that doesn't bat an eyelash when trauma comes her way. I'm supposed to be resilient, Jimin," you sigh. "I refuse to cry."

Jimin doesn't know what to say.

"I know," you say, leaning forward to grasp Jimin's warm hands. "I'm so sorry. I told you we'd go to the senior prom together. I'm so, so sorry, Jimin." You're smiling to reassure him, but your façade isn't fooling anyone—thunder clouds boom outside of your house, then the rain begins to fall. "I'm sorry, Jimin," you say again. "I want to make it up to you somehow."

Jimin had completely forgotten about going to prom until you had brought it up. You'd made those plans during freshman year, and both of you had been excited about it for all of high school. Now, it looks like those plans will be ruined. But Jimin knows how much you love your granny. She means way more than a silly prom night to you. He'll have to figure something out for himself. "You don't have to make anything up to me, Y/N," Jimin says. "I'm not going to prom, then, I guess."

"But you've been waiting for it since we were in ninth grade," you protest, shaking your head. "You were going to wear a green suit to match my green dress, remember?" you say in your secret language, a small smile playing on your lips. "I can get someone to go with you."

"It's fine, Y/N," Jimin says, shaking his head. "My dad wants me to start thinking about my future, anyway. I don't think he'll appreciate me going out without knowing what I want to study in college."

You nod. "Oh, okay, then."

"You're not going to college, are you?" Jimin whispers.

"I can't, Jimin," you shrug, a fake smile plastered on your lips. "I got a job at a restaurant as a waitress. I think I'll manage financially. You know, I think you should go into engineering or some pristine shit. You're too good at math and science."

"I'll keep that in mind," Jimin says as you cuddle into his chest again. He's known you for thirteen years now and he's never seen you this let down in his life. You're struggling to hide the gargantuan amount of pain you're feeling, but the weather is reflecting your emotions too well. Jimin never knows how to comfort you—partly because you're rarely upset, but also because he's scared you might leave him if he says the wrong words.

You're right.

Jimin's terrified of losing someone he loves. He's scared that you'll leave him one day.

Your senior year in high school is the last time Jimin sees you sad. It takes you a few months to adjust to a life without your granny, but after that, you jumped right back up and out of your misery. The years rolled on through delightful days and unforgettable nights. Both of you are 24 now and it seems like nothing has changed.

Jimin waits for you to come out of your house in your work uniform, and you do just a few minutes after he arrives.

"Hey!" you beam at him. "Hope you didn't sleep too late studying or whatnot."

Jimin laughs as the two of you begin to walk to your workplace. "I actually pulled an all-nighter studying for the mid-term," he shrugs, pointing at the dark circles underneath his eyes.

"Aww, Jimin," you coo. "I'm kind of glad I never went to college. Much less try for a master's degree. After your classes, wanna meet me during my night shift?"

"Sure," Jimin agrees. His eyes glance at your petite figure, admiring the bright look on your face and your sparkling eyes before realizing what you were wearing. "Oh, Y/N!"

"What?" you giggle. "Do you like it?"

"The manager isn't going to be happy about that, Y/N," Jimin sighs.

Your work uniform was black and red—a modest black dress with a cinched-in waist and short sleeves and a red waist apron. It was a uniform that Jimin thought made you look gorgeous, but he knew how much you hated it. You'd complained several times that the outfit was too dark and gloomy and that it made you look like a sexy vampire. And you do not like sexy vampires. (Jimin thinks that's because you always rooted for Jacob the "sexy werewolf" in the hit book series, The Twilight Saga.) But what could you do about it? The black and red uniform matched the colors of the logo of the restaurant you worked in: The Black Dress.

Yet it seems like you do not give a fuck.

You're now wearing a bright green skirt with a green fanny pack around your hips, and the white pirate blouse you bought on a shopping spree sale last Halloween. Your red waist apron is tied around your neck so it flows behind you like a cape. And to top it all off, there are green clips in your hair.

"I think I look outstanding!" you chirp, twirling around. "I'm still wearing my apron so I think I'll be fine."

"Y/N... You work at The Black Dress... You can't not be wearing a black dress!" Jimin cries. "You're going to get fired!"

"Nah, I'm not," you snort. "I think the new manager has a soft spot for me. He'll really like my rather innovative work uniform!"

"What if I come over during your night shift to find out that you're no longer working there?" Jimin protests. "How are you so sure he'll be fine with you not following the dress code?"

"Oh, Jimin," you giggle, shaking your head. "Live a little! Break a few fucking rules, will you? The manager and I are good friends. I'll be fine. We're still on for tonight, right?"

"Yeah," Jimin scoffs, "if you still have your job by then."

"I will!" you protest. "Do you wanna bet?"

"What? No!"

Jimin knows when you threaten to make a bet, you're always 100% sure you're going to win. He had lost a lot of money before he’d figured that out.

"See? I'll be fine, Jimin," you say, stopping your walking when you come in front of the restaurant. "Good luck on that mid-term, all right?" You give him one of your best grins, hitting his back encouragingly as you begin to walk backward towards the entrance of the restaurant. "You're going to ace it!" you yell in the secret language.

Jimin smiles brightly. He knows that your words of encouragement will do wonders to his score like always. "Thanks!" he calls. "Bye!"

You wave your arms frantically, nearly tripping on a rock as you do so (walking backwards is not your thing). With final grins exchanged, you head into the restaurant. Jimin watches as you leave, unable to hide the fierce blush of his cheeks. It's been almost two decades and he's failed to tell you that he loves you.

Meanwhile, you sashay into the restaurant, twirling around in your modified work uniform. "Hello, everyone!" you announce in your best singing voice.

"Good morning, Y/N," your manager offers, smiling at you as he walks up to greet you.

He's a handsome man, you must admit. In his early thirties, intelligent, good with his words and rather caring.

"It's just me for now," he chuckles. "I guess the others will come later."

"Wow, I can't believe I'm the first one here, Namjoon," you laugh. "I'm literally always the last. Isn't this the first?"

Your manager laughs as well. "This is a special day then, isn't it?"

"Every day is a special day. Is it not?"

"That's very true," Namjoon agrees. "Is that why you decided to ditch your work uniform, Y/N?" he teases. "I must say the modified version looks quite nice. Someone has a penchant for the color green doesn't she?"

"You caught me!" you exclaim, raising your hands up in mock guilt. "My best friend thought I'd get fired or something. He's such a plain Jane," you giggle. "But I love him though. He's coming over later during my night shift. Is that okay?"

"Of course that's okay," Namjoon smiles. "I thought he was your boyfriend. Doesn't he walk you here every day?"

You laugh so hard you snort. "Boyfriend? Boyfriend?! God, no! We've been friends for nearly two decades, Namjoon! I think one time we even showered together. We're literally best friends."

"Good," Namjoon grins. "Because I've been wanting to ask you out for a while."

Your eyes widen. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah. When are you free?" he asks.

"Hmm..." you think. "Well, I'm supposed to have a movie night with Jimin on Friday. On Saturday, Jimin and I are supposed to watch the water fountain show we bought tickets for like seven months ago... On Sunday I'm supposed to sleep over at his place so we can wake up on Monday at the same place, you know, so it'll be easier for Jimin to walk me here... I think I'm okay Sunday. As long as I get to Jimin's home by 8!"

Namjoon laughs at your long explanation, looking at you fondly. "I'll take you out on a cafe date. Then we can watch a movie and have an early dinner. How does that sound?"

"I like it!" you giggle. "I haven't been on a date in... damn, I've never been on a date."

"Really?" Namjoon asks, slightly bewildered. "No one's taken you out on a date? You?"

"Yeah!" you blush. "Why? Am I date-worthy?"

"You're very date-worthy, Y/N," Namjoon laughs. "Maybe everyone thought you were already taken. You know, you spend a lot of time with your best friend."

You snort. "Jimin and I hang out all the time but I never once thought of anything as a date. He probably thinks of me like I'm his sister!"

"Good, good," Namjoon grins. "So he won't be mad that I'll have to steal you away for a day."

You giggle, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Jimin never gets mad. The last time he got slightly irritated with me was in senior year of high school."

"Great!" Namjoon says. "I'll see you at the cafe next door at 2?"

"Sure!" you exclaim.

"Everything's planned, then," Namjoon smiles. "Well, we have fifteen minutes left until the restaurant opens. Why don't you get dressed in your actual uniform? We have extras in the back, okay? Maybe I'll see you around today! I'm going to go check up on our chefs."

"Okay!" you nod. "Bye!" When he's out of view, you have to duck your head to hide your blushing red cheeks. When was the last time a man was interested in you? Never. You're not going to mess up on a perfect chance to date Kim Namjoon who's tall, handsome, intelligent and diligent. You don't think you can wait to meet Jimin during your night shift to tell him such good news. You might just accidentally text him right now! But you can't. Jimin's taking a test and you would be evil to distract him like that.

You've awaited your fairytale romance for 24 fucking years. Maybe you've finally found the Gilbert to your granny. Something about Kim Namjoon feels right.

You squeal giddily as you flee to the back counter of the restaurant, finding the extra black dress there as Namjoon said. You skip to the bathroom to get changed, folding up your modified uniform and stashing it somewhere in the back counter. Your radiance is obvious during your day shift—you get three times the amount of tips than usual. Namjoon even notices and compliments you on your diligence!

Usually, when your day shift is over by 4 p.m., you like to sit in the corner of the restaurant with a fresh magazine in hand and use Gilbert to correct all the embarrassing grammatical errors until it's time for your night shift. But today, Namjoon sits down across from you (because his work for today was over) and he asks what you're doing.

You spend the next two hours until your night shift explaining to Namjoon the intricacies of correct grammar. He seems to enjoy every minute of it. When you have to go back to work, Namjoon promises to see you tomorrow, which was Friday and wishes you the best on your night shift. You let out a dreamy sigh when he leaves.

How did you not notice such a great man like Namjoon was right in front of your face? Granted, it's only been a few weeks since he started working here, but still.

You're usually just a little bit tired (crazy, right? for such an energetic person like you) by the time you start your second shift, but you feel more energized than ever. By the time Jimin comes into the restaurant, you're serving the last customers and cleaning up the tables and pushing in the chairs.

"Hey!" you cry, rushing in to hug your friend. "How was the mid-term?"

"It was great!" Jimin beams. "You've been in a really good mood today, haven't you? The sun was out the whole day. Huh, and you're not fired, I see. Someone made you put on the uniform?"

"Yeah, Namjoon," you say dreamily. When Jimin makes a blank face, you clarify, "my manager."

"Oh? He wasn't mad?"

"No! He wasn't!" you giggle. "He asked me out on a date, Jimin! And then he told me to change into my uniform, but that's beside the point! We're supposed to meet on Sunday at the cafe next door at 2! This is my first date! You have to help me with what to wear!"

Jimin plasters on a giant grin for you, though his insides crumble. "That's great, Y/N! Maybe I can come over later and help you choose what to wear. Are you thinking of making it official? It sounds like you really like him..."

"I don't know yet," you hum. "But I know he's a great guy! You know how well I read people, right? He really likes Gilbert too! God, I think he's already gonna be my prince!"

Jimin nods. "Wow," he mumbles. "Do you know him very well?"

"Well, I know that his name is Kim Namjoon. And he's the day-time manager for The Black Dress," you say, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to think. "He has blonde hair... uh, he's tall and he likes to wear all black!"

"You don't know him very well, do you?" Jimin accuses, crossing his arms over his chest. "Y/N, how do you like him so much if you barely know him? Is it because he expressed interest in you? You can't just go liking people back just because they like you... You need to make judgments for yourself."

You pout, shaking your head. "It's not like that," you say. "And I made my judgment already! I like Kim Namjoon, Jimin. Besides, I will get to know him. Now, I'm gonna go close up the restaurant so sit tight, all right?"

Jimin nods, grumbling under his breath about how quickly you were moving on to like someone you barely gave a second look at. He does admit that he's a bit jealous... Who was this Kim Namjoon who just decided to waltz into your life and steal you away from him? Who was he to ask you out just based on physical attraction? Jimin can't believe you were falling for a guy you basically just met. But he does admit that you've always wanted some sort of fairytale romance. Is it too late for him to confess now?

"Why are you thinking so hard?" you giggle, making Jimin jump away from you from the suddenness. "I closed up the restaurant. Shall we go home?" You hold out your hand for Jimin to take, which he does after just a bit of hesitance.

"I was not thinking very hard," Jimin says.

"Oh, really?" you snort, swinging your intertwined hands back and forth. "You were thinking so hard, a vein popped out in your forehead! A penny for your thoughts?"

When you hold out an actual penny for him to take, Jimin laughs, shaking his head. You huff, putting the penny back in your pocket. "It was nothing, Y/N."

"Wow, I didn't know nothing made you think so hard you looked angry," you tease. "You can tell me anything, you know."

"Yeah, of course," Jimin sighs, squeezing your hand and struggling to hide his actual feelings.

Damn. If he could control the weather with his emotions, it would be raining right now.

Jimin knew you would never be one to put your dates over your friends. That fact was confirmed for him when even though you got Namjoon's phone number, you never texted him when you were hanging out with Jimin—which was practically all the time.

Your Friday movie night was a blast, as usual. The two of you cuddled up on the couch and completely lost it over a hysterical comedy. And the Saturday hangout was even better with the majestic water fountain show. When the two of you separated that night, you ended up FaceTiming in each of your houses. Like Jimin had promised, he helped you pick out a cute but modest outfit for tomorrow—something that enhanced your best features (which Jimin thought is everything) and something that would make it very obvious that green is your color. You went to bed smiling because you were excited about your date with Namjoon tomorrow. Jimin went to bed smiling because you were the last person he saw before going to bed.

On Sunday morning, Jimin woke up, texted you to have fun on your date and began to study for his advanced thermodynamics class, which was a whole fucking pain in the ass. He skipped lunch, got a snack around early evening and waited for you to come over while he watched some kitten Youtube videos.

You were supposed to be back from your date by 8 p.m. It is promptly 8:07 and Jimin begins to get a bit nervous. Should he text? Call? 8:07 is such an ambiguous time. If he calls now, he'll sound clingy, like he's trying to interrupt your date with Namjoon. Well, Jimin wouldn't mind doing that, but he doesn't want to hurt your feelings and burst your idealistic bubble. Perhaps he should wait.

You're always late to everything, anyways. If Jimin wasn't in your life, you would've been late to every single day of school from kindergarten to high school. Hell, if he hadn't banged on your door for you to come out on graduation day, you might've never graduated high school. Maybe Gilbert fell out of your flimsy dress pocket and you're looking for it? (It's happened before so it could surely happen again.)

Alas, the door of Jimin's small apartment swings open and you practically skip through, giggling and twirling around. "Sorry I'm late!" you say, rushing over to where Jimin was slouched on the couch and cuddling up next to him.

You smell faintly masculine. Jimin struggles not to make an unflattering face—that was no doubt Namjoon's cologne. He wonders what base Namjoon took you to tonight. Did you kiss him? Did you make out with him? Have... sex?

He shudders thinking about it.

No. That couldn't have happened. They were in public places the whole time. Unless...

He glances over at you who's stripping off your jewelry, socks and jacket. You're too busy tying up your hair into a messy bun to notice Jimin staring at your lips. Had Namjoon kissed you goodbye?

Jimin shames himself for having these thoughts. He should be happy for you. Besides, you weren't even that late. It's only 8:10.

"You wouldn't believe why I was like, ten minutes late," you giggle, stretching out your legs and sitting in an unflattering position that hikes your dress up to your mid-thigh. Jimin struggles not to look down.

"Really?" he asks. "What happened?"

You snort. "Okay, so—wait do you have my makeup remover wipes here? And can I borrow some sweats? I totally forgot to bring a change of clothes. Sorry!" you say.

Jimin nods. "Yeah, the wipes are in my bedroom where you last left them and um, you can find some of my t-shirts in the first drawer of the cabinet next to my bed."

"Okay, thanks, Jimin!" you giggle, quickly bouncing up from your spot. When you see that Jimin's still glued to his seat, you laugh. "I can't tell you the story when you're that far away from me! Get up! I'll tell you the story while I change."

Jimin flushes at the thought. "Y-Yeah, okay," he stutters. You tug him into his own bedroom, snatching the makeup wipes from the nightstand and beginning to wipe off your light makeup. Jimin sits down on his bed, cross-legged, attentively waiting for you to start your story.

"Okay, anyways, Joon—"

"Joon?"

"Yeah, it's like my little nickname for Namjoon, isn't it adorable? Where was I? Right!" you mutter to yourself as you furiously scrub off the remnants of your mascara. "We were coming out of the movie theater, right? I found out Gilbert wasn't in my pocket! And I was just about to turn around to tell Joon my misfortune but he was already facing me and yelling, 'I FORGOT MY PHONE!' "

You take a moment to skillfully aim the wipe into Jimin's trash bin, squealing when it goes in completely clean. Jimin claps politely for you.

"Thank you," you bow dramatically. "Oh yeah, where was I?" You begin to make your way towards Jimin's bedroom cabinet, pulling out the first drawer and inspecting your choices of nightwear and sticking your hand in the neatly folded clothes to rummage through and pick your poison. "So, naturally, Joon and I went back into the theater and—ooh, Jimin you have a few condoms in here! Are you getting it on these days?"

"Y/N!" Jimin shrieks, scrambling over and snatching the condom you were teasingly holding out before chucking it into his closet and slamming the door shut. "T-That's private."

"Oh, really?" you ask, wiggling your eyebrows. "Who's the lucky girl?"

"Come on, Y/N. I'm a virgin, you know that."

You raise your eyebrows. "It looks like you're tired of being one though," you tease.

Jimin can't look you in the eyes. His face burns with humiliation. He can't possibly explain why he had bought those condoms. Back when he was an undergraduate, he had been desperate to get over his feelings for you—so desperate, in fact, that he had purchased his first batch of contraceptives to have sex with other women and completely forget about you. But he never had the guts to try. How could he? When he was so hopefully in love with you that he couldn't imagine himself being sexually active with someone else. Er, not that he sees himself being sexually active with you. But—

I need to stop thinking about this.

"Aw, Jiminie," you coo. "It's okay to be a virgin," you say in your secret language as you sit down on the bed with one of Jimin's favorite black t-shirts in hand. Jimin believes you must've thought he was pissed off at you for teasing him about being inexperienced. "I'm a virgin too, right?" you say. "I'm waiting for my prince!"

Jimin breathes a sigh of relief. So you hadn't had sex with Namjoon tonight. For some reason, he feels much better after hearing that. "You know what, Y/N?" he smiles. "I'm waiting for my princess."

You smile so bright it lights up the room. "Good," you say. "Let's get married on the same day, then. A double wedding in a castle far, far away!" you place a dramatic hand over your forehead. "Now! Where was I for the hundredth time? Oh, yeah! Joon and I went back to the theater," you say, starting to unzip your dress.

Jimin's eyes turn wide and he quickly turns his back towards you, making you laugh.

"I'm not putting on a strip show," you giggle. "You don't have to be so embarrassed about it!"

"I-I, uh, I'll just give you some privacy. Tell me when you're done," Jimin manages to choke out.

"So gentlemanly. How do you not have a girlfriend yet?" you chuckle to yourself, sliding the sleeves of the dress of your shoulders and dragging the fabric off of your body. "Okay, okay, okay. I need to focus. Anyways, Joon and I went back into the movie theater and the first thing we did was to go back into the room where we watched the movie—great film, by the way—and we literally scrounged around everywhere for my poor Gilbert and Joon's phone! But to no avail! It was as if both of them disappeared!"

You toss your dress on the floor, unclip your bra and tug Jimin's shirt on in smooth motions.

"Jimin, you can look now," you say.

He turns around, ears slightly pink and eyes averted. Quickly, Jimin sits down on his bed, across from you. "You can continue your story," he offers.

You grin. "So, Joon was panicking at this point because he lost his phone. And I was about to burst into tears because I lost Gilbert, you know?"

Jimin nods in response.

"Yeah, so I figured I'd have to be late coming to your apartment because I can't just leave without Gilbert! When I reached into my purse to get my phone to tell you of my misfortune, guess what happened. Guess! Guess!"

Jimin pouts. "Can't you just tell me?"

You roll your eyes. "I was building the story up just so you could literally guess what happened with no problem," you huff. "Fine, then. I reached into my purse to get my phone and I pulled out Namjoon's instead! Turns out, before the movie, Joon was holding all the snacks and he dropped his phone. So, you know, I picked it up and couldn't give it back to him so I just put it in my purse!"

Jimin smiles. "And you forgot you put it in your purse?"

"Well, yeah!" you giggle. "I was so worried about Gilbert!"

"Did you find him?" Jimin asks.

You snort. "Is that even a question, Jimin? I wouldn't be this happy right now if I hadn't. You'd never guess where Gilbert was, Jimin."

"So there's no point in me trying, right?" he responds, teasingly. But when he sees your death glare, he sighs. "Fine. Was Gilbert in Namjoon's purse?"

"HA!" you exclaim. "Good one! But no, it was in my right pocket."

"Oh, Y/N," Jimin says, leaning back on his bed. "You only checked your left pocket before you declared Gilbert missing, huh?"

"Yessir!" you laugh. "Joon and I got a good laugh out of it. He told me I'm really silly! And, get this, he said I'm a natural!"

"Really?" Jimin says. "A natural at what?"

"Dating!" you squeal. "He told me I'm naturally cuddly and adorable and kissable and—god, my heart exploded in my chest!!!"

Kissable???

"But I told him I don't kiss on first dates—not that I've never been on another one... You know? Like you need to give them something to long for!" you laugh, spreading out on Jimin's bed while looking up at his ceiling. "I read that from a romance novel somewhere. And it worked! He asked me out on our second date during our first date! Am I amazing or what?"

"Oh, Y/N," Jimin sighs.

"Oh, Jimin," you mock right back. "Anyways, shall we go to bed early? My princess beauty sleep is waiting!" you sing, making your way to Jimin's bathroom. "I'm gonna wash up, okay?"

"All right," Jimin answers, getting up to turn off the lights of his room. He crawls back into his bed, waiting for you to join him. A few minutes later, you do, tucking yourself in on the left side of the bed and snuggling Jimin's blankets as you sigh out.

No matter how many times he's slept beside you, Jimin feels like his heart will beat out of his chest every time. It feels wrong, to sleep in the same bed as adults when you're in nothing but a platonic relationship with him. Yet something about it feels so right... And you've been doing it since you were kids and upholding tradition is pretty important to both of you.

Jimin double-checks to make sure he isn't pulling the blanket covers too hard. He doesn't want you left with anything to stay warm through the night.

"Goodnight, Jimin," you whisper.

"Goodnight, Y/N," he whispers back.

And he drifts off to sleep. Only in his dreams can his longing to be with you come true.

Jimin is always your priority. You have a lot of friends, but when it comes to who you're willing to spend the most time with, it's Jimin. And it's always been like that—since that one fateful day in kindergarten to now. Er, kind of.

These days, your priorities may have shifted just a tiny bit.

It's been like that ever since Namjoon took you out on that stupid fifth date, which was the date that marked the official start of your romantic relationship with him. Jimin had sulked in his bed that whole day when you'd first texted him the news. But later, he forced himself to get up and have a cup of coffee with you in the cafe next to your workplace. He feigned a smile for you and told you that Namjoon was one lucky man.

And he was.

Now that Namjoon is officially your boyfriend, Jimin had to share you with him. It's unfair. Jimin's known you for nearly two decades, but Kim Namjoon decided to waltz into your life one day and win you over in less than a month. What did Namjoon have that Jimin didn't??

But no matter how bitter your relationship with Namjoon made Jimin feel, he hid it away from you. Besides, you are practically glowing these days. Whatever Namjoon tells you makes you absolutely radiant. And Namjoon must be a good man because you come over to Jimin's apartment after every date happy and bubbly like it was your first. So he's definitely treating you right.

You don't get to spend as much time with Jimin anymore, too. Sometimes, Jimin asks if you're available for lunch or dinner but half the time you've already made reservations with your boyfriend. Yet you always make sure you see Jimin at least five days a week (two days less than what was before, but it's a small price Jimin's willing to pay for your heightened happiness).

Since your birthday is coming up, Jimin's been putting the finishing touches on your present—the one he's been preparing since the day after your last birthday. This year, you've already made him a short little flipbook (that you drew yourself) about the first time the two of you had first met for Jimin's birthday. The gift was rather nostalgic and it had almost made him cry. Jimin hopes the present he makes for you this year will make you cry. In a good way, of course.

You and Jimin share every single one of your birthdays. It's been an ongoing tradition since Jimin turned six before you did. This year is no different. You had to tell a very bummed Namjoon that you already made dinner reservations with your best friend so he'd had to give you your present when you ate lunch with him earlier that day.

Jimin doesn't really think Namjoon likes him that much. He always eyes Jimin with some sort of suspect as if Jimin was going to steal you away from him. Hmph. The feeling is reciprocal.

When you came to your favorite restaurant wearing your favorite green dress, Jimin had already ordered the food and was patiently waiting with his hand-made present.

"Hey!" you cry as you slide into the seat.

"Happy birthday, Y/N!" Jimin smiles. "You look great!"

"Right?" you giggle, tossing your perfectly curled hair over your shoulder. "I felt like for my 25th birthday, I'd have to wear something cute. I'm halfway to the fucking 50 years old, Jimin. I'm aging too quickly," you huff, crossing your arms over your shoulder. "Did you order already?"

"O-Oh, yeah," Jimin says. "Why? Did you want something different?"

"No, I just wanted to check if the menus had any grammatical errors," you laugh, shrugging. "Oh well, when we get dessert menus, I'll check out RM."

"RM?"

"Oh! It's part of the gift Joon gave me," you exclaim, pulling out a—

"Red marker?" Jimin scrunches his eyebrows. "For your birthday?"

You nod, placing the marker on your desk and rolling it towards Jimin so he can pick it up and examine it. Jimin does, scrutinizing the marker that was most definitely not as great as Gilbert.

"Well, Joon always saw that I was correcting grammatical errors with Gilbert and he thought that something red would be more emphatic, you know?" you explain, taking out Gilbert from your left pocket. "Of course I love Gilbert more, but I thought I'd give RM a try. Besides, Joon said red serves as the better color for correcting. He said the color itself brings alert to the problem and that green is too passive. I guess I can see that."

Jimin frowns. "But you like green because it's 'passive,' " Jimin sighs as he makes air quotes with his hands. "And it doesn't make the corrections seem as rude and aggressive."

"I know, Jimin," you smile. "I'll try RM out once and keep it on a shelf somewhere. Gilbert's not going anywhere. You know that. Besides, Joon was really insistent that I tried it out, you know? He was so thoughtful too! I think it's a great gift! And I think it's endearing that he named it RM for me. Did you know RM used to be his nickname when he was back in college and in an acapella group? The man can sing! What can he not do?" you gush.

"He named the marker after himself?" Jimin snorts. Typical.

"Well, yeah, I guess he did!" you laugh. "It's like I'm always carrying around a mini him!"

Bleh.

"Yeah," Jimin agrees without much heart. "Oh, wanna see what I got you for your birthday?" he asks, hoping to steer the conversation away from your boyfriend.

"OH MY GOD, YES!" you exclaim. "I've been waiting for this moment since my last birthday."

"Good," Jimin grins as he whips out a box with pretty, green wrapping. "Here."

You take it from him, shaking the box wildly and with wide, happy eyes. "It's kinda heavy!" you comment, beginning to rip the wrapping off. You skillfully force the box open with the butt of your fork. When you finally see your present, you gasp. "Oh, Jimin, you fucking didn't."

"I fucking did," Jimin smiles proudly. "Open it."

You carefully take a photo book out of the box, your eyes glued on the beautiful front cover. "God. I'm tearing up just looking at the front," you laugh. "Where'd you even get these photos?"

He shrugs, smiling. "Here and there, you know?"

Jimin had made sure the cover of the photo book would be littered with childhood photos he and you had taken when you were younger. The rest of the book is filled with little memories the two of you shared growing up with captions and comments underneath. There are a total of 392 photos in the book. And Jimin had spent seven months accumulating them—mostly from his father's old camera and Jimin's old Nokia phone he dug out from his garage. You'd always wanted a photo book, so Jimin thought it was time to gift you with one.

You're excitedly flipping through the pages, spending more time to stare at the more sentimental photos. Even when the food arrives, you can't put the book away. You're so distracted with Jimin's present that you don't even try to correct the grammar errors on the dessert menus. So Jimin grabs Gilbert and makes corrections himself. He puts the correct accents on crème brûlée and corrects a rather obvious spelling error. Then, he proceeds to order two strawberry cheesecakes. Surprisingly, even when the dessert arrives, you don't put the book down.

It's rare when something entrances you so much that you don't speak for long periods of time. You haven't spoken a single word to Jimin ever since you'd started flipping through the photo book, and Jimin finds that he doesn't mind at all. He loves watching how your face relaxes and contorts again as the memories of your childhood flood through you. The last photo in the book is the one your granny took of you and Jimin fighting over the last glazed donut when the two of you were in first grade. Spoiler alert: you'd won. But you had also felt bad after watching Jimin sulk so you'd broken the donut in half and handed a piece to your best friend.

When you finally catch sight of the last photo, you gasp, putting a hand over your lips.

"Granny," you whisper. "She took this photo. I remember..."

You're practically clouded with nostalgia and Jimin swears he sees tears welling up in your eyes. But you won't cry over something as simple as this. It's the fact that you loved his gift so much that you almost cried that counts.

"Gosh... Jimin," you breathe, fanning your eyes. "I'm not crying, by the way. Something's in my eye, I don't know," you mumble.

Jimin grins.

"I don't even know what to say, Jimin. I love it. I'll cherish it forever. Thank you. God, it's perfect," you say. "Wow. You're leaving me speechless, Jimin. And it's very hard to shut me up. You're something special."

Jimin practically beams. All the time and effort he'd spent on your birthday gift had really paid off. He loves seeing you so happy that you can't even describe what you're feeling in words.

You carefully shut the photo book, setting it off to the side before staring right into Jimin's eyes. "I would totally fucking say I love you right now but I don't think Joon would appreciate it."

"What?" Jimin breathes as his heart flutters in his chest. "But he's not here right now."

"He doesn't like it when I do 'romantic' things with you," you sigh as you lean back. "We had a long discussion about it a few days ago."

"Romantic things?" Jimin makes a face. "What the hell is he talking about?"

"Oh, it's not a big deal!" you exclaim, waving your hands. "He just thinks, well, he thinks that some of the stuff that I do with you... um, is not really, uh, platonic."

Ah. Jimin sees where you're going with this. And now it's obvious why Joon always looks at him so suspiciously—Namjoon feels threatened by Jimin.

"How so?" Jimin asks but he already knows the answer.

"Like um, he doesn't like it when I sleep over at your place, you know?" you say, fidgeting in your seat. "And he really put his foot down when I told him we sometimes share a bed. He said I shouldn't really do that with you anymore."

Jimin understands where Namjoon is coming from. But at the same time, he feels as if Namjoon had violated his rights. His rights to be with you.

"I can't hold hands with you either," you say, looking down at your uneaten strawberry cheesecake. "I'm so sorry, Jimin. I know we've been doing it for so long and I swear, I didn't know it was strictly a relationship thing. But apparently it is, and it made Joon uncomfortable that we were holding hands when I'm really dating him and just—" you stop yourself from rambling, sighing as you take a sip of your ice water. "And I really love him, Jimin," you whisper. "I don't want to lose him."

"You love him already?" Jimin says with a slight tremor in his voice that you completely look over. "It's only been a month, Y/N."

"Love has nothing to do with time," you smile wistfully. "He's my prince, Jimin. If I let him go, he'll find someone else."

Jimin's silent, unable to think of anything to say that wouldn't hurt your feelings.

You take his silence as a bad sign. "Jimin, I didn't want to break all of this to you on a celebration night but I felt like you deserved to know earlier," you say in your secret language. "I'm sorry. It was all part of our tradition too."

"It's fine," Jimin sighs. But it's really not. Yet Jimin hides his pain by shoving a forkful of cake into his mouth. He chews slowly, swallows. "What Joon's suggesting is pretty justified. Don't worry about it."

The rest of your birthday dinner is somewhat awkward. Of course, you try to save the mood by cracking a few jokes here and there, but Jimin finds it hard to laugh. It's the worst birthday he's ever celebrated with you.

You and Joon have only started dating for a month, but so much as changed already. Jimin doesn't even want to think of the drastic changes that might follow as your relationship with your 'prince' deepens and blossoms into something even more serious.

When Jimin arrives at your home to walk you to work on a Monday morning, he does a double-take because he finds you already waiting outside, shivering from the chilly air in nothing but your plain work uniform. Never in the twenty years that he's known you have you ever been on your doorstep before him.

"Y/N?" Jimin asks, bewildered. "What happened?"

"Hey!" you exclaim, waving at your best friend enthusiastically. "Nothing happened. I'm just trying to get into the habit of being early. It's not a good habit to be late all the time."

"Your face is red, Y/N!" Jimin says, shrugging his thick coat off and handing it to you and you take it gratefully. "How long have you been waiting?"

"Eh, just a few minutes," you say, sniffling your runny nose and grinning. "I'm as red as RM! Besides, the sun's shining. You know what that means? I'm fine."

Jimin shakes his head. "You should've waited inside. I'm okay with waiting. I've done it for twenty years so I wouldn't mind doing it for more."

"Joon told me I should get into the habit of being early," you giggle. "I've been late to every single one of our dates so far, you know?"

"Well, you've been late to every single one of our hangouts but I never said anything," Jimin scoffs.

"It's different with you," you say, smiling.

How? Jimin so desperately wants to ask. But he's afraid of your answer.

You wrap Jimin's black coat tighter around yourself as you skip down the porch steps. "C'mon! I wanna get to work super early!"

It takes only a week later for Jimin to realize you like going to work early because your boyfriend's already there, waiting for you.

You've been with Namjoon for about three months now, and the effects are starting to impact Jimin's life rather largely. For starters, you're spending way less time with him than before. The daily routines you had established with him for years are broken as you mold your lifestyle in the way that Namjoon wants you to. Jimin hates change more than anything. You should know that.

And you do. You apologize profusely—any chance you get—about the little changes in his lifestyle because of you; Jimin never blames you, though.

When you missed his grad school graduation because Namjoon bought you expensive vacation tickets to an acclaimed resort in Hawaii, Jimin didn't blame you.

It was Namjoon who had bought the tickets and it was Namjoon who told you the trip wasn't refundable. It was Namjoon who wanted to take you away from Jimin for a week. You promised you would FaceTime him.

And you're the best promise-keeper in the world.

"How is it there?" Jimin asks in the secret language as he lounges on his couch. "Is the weather nice?"

"It's beautiful!" you exclaim, moving out of the screen to show Jimin the sparkling blue-green oceans behind you. "We went snorkeling a few hours ago and we just had lunch so we're waiting to digest our food before we dive in again! I wish you were here," you pout. "I'm sorry I missed your graduation, by the way. Was your father there?"

"Yeah, he was. Don't worry about that," Jimin says. "I'm glad you're having fun."

"Aw, thanks!" you giggle. "Joon really outdid himself with all of this. Oh, how's your job status, by the way?"

"I got the job," Jimin smiles. "I didn't go through with those extra few years of school for nothing."

"HA!" you snort. "If I actually went to college, I would've been kicked out for literally failing every class. Remember when I got a 32% on that physics test? God, I hated Mr. Chung. Look at that! After all of these years, I still remember his goddamn name!"

Jimin shakes from laughter. "Of course I remember! Mr. Chung told me to tutor you or something."

"And then you told Mr. Chung that—"

"Baby?" Namjoon calls off-screen, interrupting you mid-sentence.

You turn around to look at him. "Yeah, babe? Oh, wait, sorry. I mean, yeah, babe?"

Jimin can hear Namjoon sighing. "Baby, can you please, refrain from using that secret language of yours in public?" he whispers. "I'm so sorry, but it sounds a bit like a chicken is being repeatedly run over by a car and people are starting to stare."

Jimin's about to give Namjoon a piece of his mind when you cut in before him.

"Aw, I'm sorry Joon," you giggle. "I made the language when I was really young. Explains a lot, doesn't it? Sorry, Jimin," you tell the camera. "I guess we'll have to stop our encrypted conversation."

"And baby?" Namjoon calls. "We're on vacation! Technology should be off when we have such beautiful scenery around us."

Jimin grits his teeth.

"Right!" you laugh. "Silly me. Sorry, Jimin," you say again, not even looking into the camera this time. "I have to go! I'll talk to you later, okay? Bye!"

Before Jimin can even answer, you end the call. Jimin's left staring right back at his own frustrated face. He chucks his phone across his couch and covers his face with his hands.

At first, Jimin didn't like Namjoon because he was jealous. But now, it's come to more than that. Namjoon's been trying to change the little quirks and habits that made you, you; he's trying to mold you into the same society you rebelled against for all of your life. He's trying to take you away from Jimin. He's trying to strip you of everything you were before you met him.

But what can Jimin do about it?

You're too head over heels in love with this Kim Namjoon. That man is the self-proclaimed prince to your princess. Jimin can't help but think he's the ogre. A handsome, successful ogre who strikes slowly, so slowly that the damage cannot be detected until it's too late.

If Jimin tries to warn you about Namjoon and his dubious intentions, you might not believe him and hate Jimin for life. If Jimin says nothing, he might not be able to recognize you in a few years' time at the rate the changes are happening now.

Jimin doesn't know what to do. He hates confrontations—that had always been your job, not his. So he does what he always does: nothing.

Being with you every day is a mystery. You have something new up your sleeve every single day without fail. Whether it be a new fashion style or a new gadget you made, you're always flaunting something that others wouldn't dare flaunt. And that's what made you so special.

But the crazy color schemes that had once been in your closet have been reduced to dark, muted colors. The Halloween costumes you kept every year to wear as everyday clothes were sitting on a rack in some Goodwill store. You dressed... plainly now.

Of course, there is nothing wrong with that. It's just not you. It is Namjoon though. Besides from Jimin, Namjoon is the plainest man he knows. And so far, switching out your wardrobe was definitely not your idea, though you seem to believe it is. That Kim Namjoon. He's planting these stupid ideas in your head and you're absorbing them like a sponge, too kind and docile and a bit too naive to disagree with your boyfriend.

Jimin's heard the way you talk about him. Your eyes gloss over with complete adoration and you giggle at everything Namjoon does. You're madly in love with him, and Jimin can't do anything about it except watch.

But no matter how many of your habits and physical lifestyle Namjoon can change, he can't touch your personality. You're the same girl Jimin's known and loved for years and years of his life. And he's not going to let you go anytime soon.

"JIMIN!!!" you yell, almost knocking your friend over by hugging him the moment you open your apartment door to see his face. "You're two minutes late!" you pout as you drag him over in front of your television. "I already picked a movie!"

Jimin can't deny Friday movie nights with you is the only thing he looks forward to these days. Though you don't cuddle with him on the couch anymore, you like to lean against his shoulder. And that's enough contact for Jimin to be satisfied.

"Really?" Jimin grins. "What movie?"

"Interstellar!" you say, collapsing on your couch as you aggressively pat the empty seat next to you. "Hurry up! Hurry up! I'm excited!"

"Y/N? Are you sure?" Jimin asks as he sits down next to you with a confused look on his face. Usually, when you choose a movie, you always end up reverting back to your classic favorite Disney princess films. "I know you don't really like sci-fi..."

"Yeah, but I told Namjoon I already watched that movie, but I haven't. So now I need to watch it," you explain quickly. "You like sci-fi, though, so you can explain all the things I don't get! Which would be half of the movie."

There Namjoon goes again. Making you watch movies that literally lull you to sleep.

"Okay," Jimin sighs. He doesn't have the guts to tell you that he's watched this movie hundreds of times.

By the time the roll credits are playing on the screen, you're completely knocked out. Well, you've been knocked out since the first twenty minutes of the film. Jimin's been watching you sleep for the rest of the two hours and thirty minutes of the film. (Not in a creepy way—an endearing way.) He had to stop himself multiple times from reaching out and tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and away from your face.

God. Jimin needs a drink of water. Is it just him or is the room getting hotter?

He stands up slowly and quietly, making sure he wouldn't disturb your peaceful beauty sleep. Jimin's known your home since he was five; he could walk blindfolded to the kitchen if someone made him. He finds refuge near your water dispenser, fanning his face and taking his own cup from the cupboard. Your granny had bought that blue cup for him years ago, gifting you with a separate green cup. It's the only cup you use at home.

Jimin fills his cup with water, downing all of it in one large gulp. The water helps him cool off just a tad bit. He moves to place his used cup in the sink, his eyes habitually glancing over at your trash can.

You never remember to put a plastic bag inside it, which makes the gross remnants of your waste stick to your trash can. And Jimin can definitely say that that stench is horrendous. Jimin sighs as he finds an empty Walmart plastic bag rolling around your kitchen. He approaches the trash can, holding his breath just in case. But when he checks inside, there is nothing in it except for—

"GILBERT?" Jimin gasps loudly.

"JIMIN?!" you shriek. There's a resounding thud in the living room and a small "oof," from you as you lay sprawled on the floor.

"Y/N!" Jimin yells.

You dash over to your kitchen, rubbing your eyes and trying to adjust to the bright kitchen lights. "Jimin?" you say, your brows furrowed as you approach your friend who's pointing aggressively at your trash can with wide, angry eyes. "Oh," you say softly when you realize what he's talking about. "Right..."

"Why is Gilbert in the trash, Y/N?" Jimin asks, running his fingers through his hair as he grips the kitchen counter for stability. "Was it Namjoon? Did he do this?"

"No!" you shout. "I did it, Jimin. I tossed Gilbert in the trash."

"Why?" Jimin whispers, taking a step away from you. "That marker's everything to you."

"I know, Jimin, I know," you groan. "It dried out. It's ages old, you know?"

"But you take such good care of it, Y/N." Jimin shakes his head. "And you're just tossing it away like that because it dried out? What about your grandfather? What about your granny?"

"Jimin, it's fine. I'm fine," you say, shrugging. "It's time I let go, you know?

"Let go of what, Y/N? The only family you've known?" Jimin sighs. "What happened to saving the world by correcting their grammatical errors?"

"Its," you reply.

"What?" Jimin says exasperatedly.

"Saving the world by correcting its grammatical errors," you say, a slow smile emerging on your face as Jimin shakes his head to hide his own grin beginning to manifest on his face. "I'm sorry, Jimin. You're right. I don't know what I was thinking," you say. "Well, I wasn't. Joon and I had our first fight today."

"Oh..."

"No, don't you 'oh' me, Park Jimin!" you laugh. "It's really not that bad! He told me I had a premature taste in films and an immature outlook on life, but I mean, he's not wrong, you know? I tried to stay awake watching Interstellar. I really did. But Joon's right. I can't like anything that's advanced. And I realized that it's a crime to vandalize, too..."

"So you threw Gilbert away because of that?"

"Well, yeah," you say. "It's a crime, Jimin. I didn't even know until Joon told me! He's so wise!"

"Oh, god," Jimin groans, burying his face in his hands.

"Ah, c'mon, Jiminie," you say, grabbing his wrists and trying to pry his hands away from his face. "He's helping me move on, you know? He's helping me become a better person!"

A better person.

The words sting. If your definition of a 'better person' is losing the spark, the color of your life, then fine. You were already a better person than before. But all Jimin can see is the monochrome you. The you without color. Which doesn't really seem like you at all.

But it hasn't rained in a while, so maybe you were truly fine with losing your color. Either that or you had also lost the ability to control the weather with your emotions. Jimin wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.

Jimin is a patient man. Not only has he waited twenty years for you to love him back (which you never did), but also he never outwardly expressed his frustrations with your change in lifestyle to you.

Besides, if Namjoon's making you that happy, then there really was no problem, right?

Wrong.

You call Jimin on Sunday with the worst news ever imaginable.

"I'm moving!" you squeal and Jimin can hear you jumping up and down on your bed from the other line. "Joon asked me to move in with him!!"

You've only dated him for four months.

"H-He did?" Jimin stutters, cursing himself for sounding so pathetically off-guard. "What about your home? Your granny's home?"

You've lived in that house ever since you were born until now.

"I can't live in that house, forever, Jimin. I want to move on!" you say. "Plus, I think Joon and I are ready to take our relationship to the next level!"

"That's ridiculous," Jimin mutters, raking his fingers through his hair in pure frustration.

"Sorry?" you say.

Shit. Jimin had forgotten you were still on the phone.

"Nevermind," he sighs.

"Jiminie," you say with that characteristic lilt in your voice. "You can tell me what you're thinking you know! I haven't been your ride or die best friend for twenty years to not know what's going on with you."

"I know," Jimin says. But he can't tell you that he absolutely despises your boyfriend. It'll break your heart. And Jimin doesn't want to be the reason for your unhappiness. "Congratulations, Y/N," he says. "I hope you like your new place, then."

"I love it, Jimin!" you squeal. "Joon remodeled his bedroom recently and damn it's just so beautiful! I'll finally be living in a castle with my prince!"

"That's great, Y/N!"

"I know, right?" you exclaim in such a voice that Jimin can tell you're absolutely beaming on the other line. "You have to come over when the move's finished! You know what? Come over this Friday for movie night! I wanna give you a tour of my new home!"

"Namjoon won't mind?" Jimin asks.

"He's going out with friends that night," you giggle. "We'll have the whole place to ourselves! Did you know Joon has a flat-screen TV?? It's humongous!"

The offer sounds very tempting. Watching a movie on a high-end television with you on a Friday night? Hell yes. It almost makes up for the fact that you're moving out of the house you and Jimin had practically grown up in.

God, Jimin can't wait for Friday to come.

It's Jimin's turn to choose the movie when Friday night finally rolls around. Since he knows you nearly idolize Rapunzel, he suggests the two of you rewatch Tangled for probably the millionth time. But before the movie had to come the house tour, of course.

Namjoon's home is rather spacious for a guy who was single for a long time. You parade around the home as you've already lived in it your whole life. Jimin silently tags along. He has to admit that Namjoon's home is, indeed, better than your granny's old house. But he nearly bursts with jealousy when you show him around the big bedroom that you supposedly share with Namjoon.

"Isn't it great?!" you say, twirling around the commodious room with a bright grin on your face. "Joon even bought new sheets for us! I wanted green and he wanted white, so we went with light gray," you giggle. "Compromise of the century, huh?"

"Still looks white to me," Jimin mutters under his breath. But you're so hyped about showing your best friend around your boyfriend's home that you don't hear him.

"C'mon, let's go watch Tangled, now!" you say, dragging Jimin back to Namjoon's expensive leather couch and switching on the flat-screen TV.

Both of you collapse on the couch, leaning against each other by habit as the movie begins to play on the screen. Jimin's watched the film with you so many times that he's basically memorized the whole script.

You like to silently mouth Rapunzel's lines and Jimin mouths Eugene Fitzherbert's lines. You also like to sing when Rapunzel does, and you've been trying to convince Jimin for years to sing with you. But Jimin does not sing. And that was that.

No matter how many times you've watched Tangled, you cry when Eugene Fitzherbert 'dies.' Before you were dating Namjoon, you'd always bury yourself in Jimin's arms, waiting until the climax of the scene is over. Nowadays, you limit yourself to placing your head on Jimin's shoulder, burying your face in Namjoon's couch pillows. Jimin doesn't mind. He likes that you take comfort in his presence.

Just as the tension of the scene is about to lift, the front door of the house opens and Namjoon walks in. But you're so engrossed in the movie that you barely notice, instead, digging your face harder into the pillow.

Jimin's head jerks towards Namjoon and their eyes meet. Namjoon doesn't look very happy. For just a split second, Jimin fears his life. He takes the time to scoot a bit away from you so Namjoon doesn't come for his neck. You whine when Jimin pulls away, trying to tug him back as your eyes are glued to the TV.

"Y/N..." Jimin whispers. "Your boyfriend's here."

"Oh, what?!" you say, breaking from the trance that the movie had put on you and finally turning your head to see a frowning Namjoon. "Joon! You came back so early!"

"Why is he here?" Namjoon asks, ignoring your enthusiasm. He doesn't look at you when he speaks, his eyes trained on Jimin, instead. Jimin gulps.

"It's Friday movie night!" you laugh. "We're watching Tangled! Oh, Jimin can you pause the movie? Damn, we'll have to rewind it. Wanna watch with us?"

"No, Jimin," Namjoon says through gritted teeth. "Turn the TV off. Y/N, this is not your home. It is ours. You're to tell me if you are to have guests over." He glares at Jimin again. "Then we can talk if they are welcome here or not."

"I-I, uh, I have to go," Jimin stutters, desperately, standing up from the couch.

"But we didn't even finish the movie!" you protest, grabbing Jimin's wrist and looking at him with puppy dog eyes. "We always finish the movie."

"Y/N, we need to talk. Let him go," Namjoon says, crossing his arms.

"I—" you sigh, letting go of Jimin's wrist. "Okay..."

It hurts to watch you look down at your feet like Namjoon was scolding you. You look so small, powerless up against him that just for one, small second, Jimin contemplates staying. Maybe give Kim Namjoon a piece of his mind.

But who is he kidding? Jimin could never compare himself to a man like Namjoon.

"I'll uh, talk to you later," Jimin quickly says. He doesn't look back when he leaves and you watch him go with a certain emptiness in your heart.

The moment Jimin's out the door, he runs. He runs from your boyfriend, your obvious pain... He runs away from himself. But he should know. No one can outrun cowardliness.

You're really the only significant figure in his life; the only person he's loved for twenty consecutive years. Yet he can't do anything to save you from the obvious monster that is your boyfriend. Jimin hates himself for that.

He crash-lands on his bed, burying himself in his pillows and drowning in self-hatred. He lays still for what seems like hours in the darkness, the silence. He tries to numb his thoughts. But when his vision is nothing but a black screen, he cannot do anything but think.

He thinks of the fight you might be having with Namjoon. He thinks of how sad you must be inside. He wonders if you genuinely like being with Namjoon. He wonders if you're genuinely happy. But most of all, he wants to know if you miss your old self.

Jimin groans when he hears his phone ring next to him. He doesn't want to get up nor move, but something inside tells him that it's important. That it might be you.

And it is.

Hurriedly, Jimin answers the call. "Y/N?"

"H-Hey, J-Jimin," you wheeze.

Jimin freezes. You're crying. And everyone knows you don't cry.

"Y/N?!" Jimin panics, sitting up. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Of course I'm okay!" you yell, making Jimin wince at the harshness of your voice in his ear. "Joon and I just fought! I'm fine!" you sniffle. "You said to talk to you later so I'm calling you!" you try to laugh but it comes out like a broken sob. "I'm not crying, I swear!"

Bullshit.

This is the third time Jimin's heard you cry. The first two times had been because of your granny. This time? It was because of that bastard, Namjoon.

"Did he do anything to you?" Jimin says, his hands slightly shaking as he waits for an answer.

"No! Joon would never," you say. "We just talked. You don't have to worry, Jimin."

"He looked angry when I left..."

"He was..." you sigh. "Listen, Jimin... this is going to sound bad, but um... Joon... He, well, he doesn't want you coming over anymore."

"What?!" Jimin blurts out. "At all?"

"It's okay! It's okay!" you say, though you sound far from it. "I can always come over to your house!" You sigh deeply. "It's just that I don't think Joon's very comfortable around you."

No, he's just not comfortable when I'm around you.

"This is ridiculous," Jimin mutters.

"Sorry, Jimin, what did you say?" you ask. "I didn't hear."

Jimin closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He tries to stay calm, tries to keep from bursting out and yelling, but he can't help himself. It had to be said. "It's fucking ridiculous!" he shouts suddenly, standing up and starting to pace back and forth in his room with a crazed look on his face. "He's being fucking ridiculous!" he yells.

"Him? You mean Joon?" you say.

"Yeah!" Jimin throws up his hand in frustration. "He's acting like he fucking owns you!" Jimin snaps.

God. He's done it now. There's no going back.

"He's not, though!" you protest. "Don't get mad, Jimin. He's only voicing his rightful opinion. There's nothing wrong with that."

"He's trying to separate us!" Jimin yells. "Don't you get it?"

"No!" you say, starting to raise your voice. "Joon wouldn't do that!"

"Like he wouldn't fucking convince you to throw away Gilbert? Like he wouldn't convince you to clean out your closet and replace it with clothes that he finds sensible? Like he wouldn't fucking convince you to keep your distance from me?? He wouldn't fucking do any of these, huh?" Jimin shouts, his voice interlaced with anger and sorrow. His throat feels raw in his neck, but he continues on with the thoughts he's held in for months. "You're blind, Y/N! He's ruining your fucking life can't you see? Where's the Y/N who used to talk to me for hours before going to sleep in our secret language? When's the last time you've spoken that, huh? And when's the last time you pretended to control the weather with your emotions? Where's the real Y/N? What happened to her?"

"Joon doesn't like her!" you yell at the top of your lungs. Your voice rings in Jimin's ear.

"Why do you want Joon to like you? What are you trying to prove to him?" Jimin cries, his voice quivering.

"I'm following my path to love!" you shout. "It's something you'd never understand. You don't even know what that is! I've never, ever seen you pine for anyone in the fucking twenty years I've known you! You can't be talking about love if you've never fucking felt it!"

Jimin collapses on his bed, his head numb and hands cold.

You take his silence as defeat. "I fucking thought so," you say. "Joon says you're too dependent on me. You need to go out and make another friend other than me. The world changes, Jimin. People come and go. Stop being just so—just so fucking stuck in the past. Goodbye."

You don't wait for a response, ending the call right away.

Jimin's phone slips from his ear, falling face down on his bed. He's frozen into shock. If only you knew why he had never chased after love for twenty fucking years. He didn't need to. Because his love was right in front of his face the whole time.

Aside from the occasional bickering as kids, you and Jimin had never fought. This is the first time both of you had exchanged nasty words with each other.

You had used to call Jimin a peaceful soul because of his extreme hate for confrontations, unnecessary drama and fighting. Not once in his life had Jimin ever said something that he knew could damage something significant to him. Not once in his life had Jimin ever initiated an argument. Not once in his life had Jimin ever really argued, in fact. It had always been you yelling and Jimin nodding if anything.

But when things had stacked up, Jimin couldn't take it anymore. He'd cracked. He'd yelled. And he'd finally fought with his words.

Yet the fight doesn't symbolize anything except a double loss for Jimin because you had ultimately chosen Namjoon over him. Then, you'd proceeded to completely crush his heart by failing to recognize his love for you.

Jimin never had to worry about heartbreak. He and you had always been best friends, nothing more. No matter how much he loved you, he never acted upon it, which meant you never rejected him. So, yeah, no heartbreak.

But this... that fight... When you'd accused him of not knowing love... when he had loved you for years. That was heartbreak. And it is still heartbreak.

Jimin found it extremely hard to get out of bed every morning after the fight. Sometimes, throughout the day, when something even the slightest bit amusing happens, he whips out his phone to inform you of it. Then, he realizes he and you are not quite on speaking terms at the moment. Jimin also realizes if he can't text you, he has no one else to text.

Maybe you were right. Jimin needs more friends.

It's almost been a week since the fight on the phone; it has also been almost a week of constant rain. It pours down hard and steady, only slowing down for light drizzles in the afternoons. It's the only reassurance that Jimin can get. That you're just as sad as him. That some part of you misses him as much as he misses you.

The weather forecast said the rain was supposed to clear by tonight. But Jimin waits by his window, where the thunder clouds boom over the roof of his lonely house and the rain pounds against the concrete. It's a storm.

He worries about you.

Maybe he should text you? Call you? What if you're all alone in your room, crying profusely and that bastard of a boyfriend, Namjoon's giving you the silent treatment? It's like Jimin can feel your pain through the weather.

A lightning bolt flashes through the sky and four seconds later, Jimin hears the booming thunderclap. It wasn't supposed to rain today. You must be crying all alone. You must be missing your granny. You must be missing him.

Another sharp thunderbolt pierces through the dark rain clouds in the sky and the thunderclap rings louder than the last. That's it. Jimin picks up his phone.

It's sad that you're still the only person in his favorites contact 'list.' He taps on your icon and presses the phone against his ear, looking out the window as if you were out in the rain all by yourself. The phone rings. Once. Twice. Three times. Usually, by then, you pick up the phone. But it occurs to Jimin now, that this is not going to be a usual conversation. His phone is heavy in his hands and he rests his cheek against the cold window, wondering if you're ever going to pick up.

Maybe you're crying so hard that you can't hear your phone ring.

Jimin lets out a shaky sigh, just about to disconnect the call to avoid hearing the all-too painful dial tone when you finally pick up.

"J-Jimin?" you breathe, groaning. "God, Jimin."

"Y/N?" Jimin exclaims. "Thank god, Y/N!" he breathes a sigh of relief.

"Mmm," you groan again.

"That's right, princess. You're mine all right?" a hushed, masculine voice whispers.

"Joon," you whine, urgently. "Please..."

Jimin can hear the soft slapping of skin in the background, Namjoon's heavy grunts and your whimpering. Immediately, the hairs on the back of Jimin's neck stand up straight. It's then when he realizes that you're moaning from pleasure. That Kim Namjoon's fucking you right now. And that you had still decided to pick up Jimin's call.

Tears blur Jimin's sight as he fumbles to end the call, chucking his phone halfway across the room afterward. He crumbles up in a ball, digging his face into his arms and sobbing.

Did you disrespect him that much? To pick up the call so he could hear you having sex?

It's the first time Jimin's ever questioned why he's in love with you.

Maybe, in the beginning, he had good reasons, but that had been because you had good intentions. You had been boisterous, unafraid to go against the current, wild, rebellious and had this my-way-or-the-high-way kind of character. That's the person Jimin had fallen in love with. The girl who carried around a green marker in her pockets to correct others' grammatical errors. The girl who invented a secret language when she was young just because she felt like it one day. The girl who convinced herself and others that she could control the weather with her emotions. The girl who didn't give two shits about what anyone thought of her. The girl who wore whatever the fuck she wanted because she could. The girl who never showed him when she was sad because she wanted to be strong, resilient. That's the person Jimin had fallen in love with.

But who the fuck are you?

Jimin had used to think it was Namjoon's fault you were so different. But you'd let him change you. You'd become docile, tedious, plain. All the things Jimin was and is. It's your fault. You could've stopped everything if you wanted. You could've broken up with Namjoon. But you didn't. Because you wanted to change.

Jimin can't love the new you. He doesn't even know if he can see you again.

His body shakes hard with fear and rage.

He's definitely not going to see you again.

He was never your prince; you'd ultimately chosen Namjoon. And you were never his princess; he had been delusional to think so.

He's going to walk out of your life. He needs to leave. For himself.

Jimin had already spent a week without your company and that had been enough. Now he wants to cut off all contact with you. He's already blocked your number, switched apartments and stashed away everything that reminded him of you—which was fairly a lot of things. He was so determined to be independent, to forget what it felt like to be dependent on you.

But without your presence, his bland life was even blander than before.

Waking up every day and not walking you to work felt foreign to him. Friday nights felt lonely without you. Weekends were dull. Weekdays were even worse.

He missed having to hear your bright, cheery voice. He missed talking about the craziest things with you. He missed waking up in the morning and wondering what you would be wearing today. He missed Gilbert. He missed your granny, too. Most of all, he missed you.

But you'd hurt him. Whittled away his heart little by little over the many years just by never loving him back. You'd humiliated him by choosing the man you knew for four months over the man you'd been best friends with for two decades.

Jimin figures he'll miss you for a long time. You'd been a large part of his life, after all. He'd already broken off contact with you, and that was already a giant leap. The next step would be to stop thinking about you, and the step after that to stop missing you. And when that's all over, he can stop loving you.

Looking back, Jimin realizes he struggled to get his life back on track for nearly eleven, long months. He'd seen winter come, spring pass and summer leave. But just as winter was making its presence on the weather again, frosting the leaves of plants and chilling the morning air, he'd finally come to his senses.

The past eleven months had been mournful. But as the days passed, he'd allowed himself to think about his current life more than his past. It had occurred to him that now, he was living a life of no-nonsense. Of no silly, childish imaginations. He was living in reality. Where he should've been in for all of his life.

Sure, he spent his birthday alone and without you for the first time since he was five years old. But it was something he could get used to. Celebrating the day he turned one year older just didn't seem like such a big deal anymore.

Maturity suits Park Jimin well.

He'd always preferred things that were tangible, anyway. Things that could be proven. Things that made sense. It was time to say goodbye to the foolish things of his past: secret languages, weather-controlling, naming markers...

It took him eleven months, no, 25 years, but Jimin finally became an adult.  

He's 27, now.

He likes to drink black coffee in the morning like his co-workers. He likes vanilla ice cream the best just because it's the most simple. He likes to tell women that he's a civil engineer to impress them on first dates. He has an adequate number of friends. He goes to work five days a week, eight hours per day. He drinks on Friday nights, watches the news and goes to bed early. On the weekends, he spends his mornings reading articles in the science section of the paper and he hangs around bars at night with his friends.

It's a humble, normal, plain life. But Jimin likes it. It suits him.

He has thoughts about you from time to time; he would never forget what it felt like to love you. But he never again gets the urge to call you. You're a figment of his past, and Jimin's moved on.

The early spring breeze caresses Jimin's cheek as he walks steadily, staring at Google Maps on his phone and glancing up every once in a while so he doesn't run into a pole like last time. He was supposed to have a Sunday brunch with Jeon Jungkook but that silly bastard had canceled last minute on him to take his own girlfriend out on a date. Typical. But Jimin actually appreciates the alone time.

Jungkook had promised to take Jimin to a great cafe that was walking distance from Jimin's place. Since Jimin had nothing better to do, he decided to have his brunch there alone.

"You've arrived at your destination," the monotone voice named Karen drolls.

When Jimin looks up, he sees a small cafe sitting at the corner of the block, surrounded by towering trees shading the area and lots and lots of verdant green bushes. Something about the place seems homely. Familiar, even.

Deja vu, maybe? Jimin thinks.

He doesn't think much more and walks in. The inside of the cafe is decorated mainly with wood, green yarn and healthy vines twisting around the furniture. Jimin's hit by a cordial, oaky smell that instantly calms his nerves and clears his mind. The place is completely empty, too. His footsteps pad against the wooden floor as he admires the little cafe. The ordering counter stands in the corner, fairy lights and green paper lanterns dangling from it to illuminate its surroundings. Jimin walks towards the lights as if he were in a trance.

Something about this place seems so damn familiar.

Jimin hasn't felt this connected with nature, with this much creative liberty since—

"Jimin."

He whirls around, eyes widening and mouth dropping open when he recognizes the owner of that voice. Sure enough, he sees you, wiping your hands on a bright green waist apron. You're wearing a white pirate blouse that could've passed for a Halloween costume and a skirt with layers and layers of different shades of green fabrics—it looks like you'd made it yourself.

"Y/N," your name leaves his lips in a breathless whisper.

"Hey," you smile, waving awkwardly. "It's been a while, huh?"

A while? Two whole fucking years, in actuality. "Yeah, I guess," Jimin nods. He glances at the door, contemplating just leaving, but some instinct inside of him urges him to stay. "You work at this place?" he asks as he walks up to the counter where you're getting ready to take his order.

"Yeah," you giggle. God, Jimin had missed that smile of yours, but of course, he doesn't want to admit it. "Well, I own this place."

"Really?" Jimin asks. "It's beautiful."

"Thanks!" you say. "I decorated it myself. What can I get for you? Do you want me to recommend our best dishes? Look, we have a separate menu just for brunches!" you say excitedly, showing Jimin a neatly laminated menu laced with green yarn. "I recommend the Gilbert Special. Eggs, toast, bacon and hash browns. But, the Jimin Special is our house favorite!"

"The what?"

"100% off for the person it was inspired by," you smile. "That's you, by the way."

"W-Wow, Y/N, I'm—"

"No! You have to take the offer!" you say. "You can't even say you won't like it because it's literally all your favorite breakfast foods combined!"

Jimin smiles, shaking his head. "It's really the house favorite?"

"You bet it is," you laugh.

"Then I guess I'll have a Jimin Special," Jimin says. "Any chance it comes with a glazed donut?"

You shoot him a knowing look, a grin spreading across your lips. "It wouldn't be a Jimin Special without one."

Jimin ends up having brunch with you.

The icy, awkward barriers in the beginning slowly melt away into the friendship Jimin had known for more than half of his life. He dines on the best breakfast he could have ever asked for while getting to talk to you again after nearly two years. He can't imagine a better way to spend his Sunday.

Small talk with you is fun because you spice everything up with loud gasps, wide eyes and extroverted reactions that make even the dullest stories exhilarating. But it's suffocating to speak of such shallow things with a person he'd been best friends with for twenty years. Jimin's dying to know how you've really been, not what you found hilariously funny last week.

"So," he asks, "how are things with Namjoon?"

You snort, shaking your head. "God, that was fucking ages ago," you say. "We broke up a while back."

"Sorry," Jimin says. But he's not really.

"You're not that sorry, aren't you?" you laugh as Jimin's face morphs in shock when you call him out. "It's okay. I know how you feel about him. And I agree with you now. That idiot had the audacity to tell me to grow up. And he called you a good-for-nothing-awkward-ass-wimpy-child." You roll your eyes. "I knew it had to end when he said that. Besides, there's a certain highly endearing thing about innocence, don't you think? We should all be a little more childish."

"Wow," Jimin breathes.

"Wow, indeed," you smile wistfully. "That bastard could've said anything he wanted to me, but he shouldn't have dared to bring you up like that. I can't fucking believe I thought he was going to be my prince! I was so scared I'd lose him so I did everything he said, you know? God, in retrospect, I was just a really, really, oblivious and desperate idiot."

"You were just in love, Y/N," Jimin says. "Love makes you blind."

Your face twists for just a split second before you smile, shaking your head and sighing. "Jimin, I feel like I have to get this out before we become life-long best friends for fucking ever again."

"Hm?"

"I never apologized for what I told you like, two years ago," you say. "That fight we had on the phone? I told you that you didn't know love. And god, I've regretted saying that for every day, every hour, every fucking minute and second of my life. It was wrong." You shake your head, looking extremely disappointed in yourself. "At least what you told me was right. God, I was so angry, so terrified of losing my first love that I spit out words without thinking. How could I say you didn't know love, Jimin?" you say. "Of course you did—of course you do. You wouldn't have stuck by my side for years if you didn't. And Jimin, fuck. I love you too. I never said it enough. But I'm saying it now. I love you and I missed you. And I'm sorry I picked up the phone when I was having sex."

Jimin laughs. Around two years ago, that day had definitely not been a laughing matter. But only time can tell if the most depressing matters can morph into rather laughable memories. "I love you too, Y/N," he says. "And you shouldn't be sorry. I think we're all past that now."

"C'mon, I wanna show you how I redecorated my granny's home!" you say, bolting up and taking Jimin's cleared plates in your hands. "Meet me at the front of the cafe in two minutes!" you holler as you dash to the kitchen.

Jimin can't get rid of the smile on his face. He adjusts his jacket and stands up, taking another look around the cafe before he exits with a light skip to his step. He'll have to buy Jungkook dinner sometime for recommending this cafe to him. What was the name of this place, anyway?

Jimin steps back and squints at the big, capital letters placed on a banner in front of the cafe. He can't help the laugh that bubbles out of him.

"Nothing a Lil Green Can't Fix!" you exclaim as you come bounding down the steps of the cafe to stand next to Jimin. "Isn't that true? Green fixes like, everything."

"Lil's not a word, Y/N. I thought you knew better," Jimin jokes.

"Oh, spare me," you say, placing a dramatic hand on your forehead. "It had to be done. The stupid company had a character limit for the logo. It was either Nothing a Lil Green Can't Fix or Nothing Green Can't Fix," you huff. "And the latter is completely disgusting."

"I agree," Jimin snorts. "Then, in that case, I believe you made the right decision."

You smile. "I sure did. So, shall we go now?"

"Definitely."

Your granny's apartment looks exactly the same on the outside, but on the inside is an abundance of green. From plants to paintings to posters to silverware, everything is green.

"Nothing a lil green can't fix, indeed," Jimin breathes as you drag him around the whole place.

"Right?" you giggle. "Look! I even made a separate cabinet with all the birthday presents I've ever received from you!!"

The tour nearly takes five hours because the two of you get distracted every other minute, indulging yourselves in past childhood memories. And when Jimin's been tired out, the two of you lay side by side on your dark green sheets, silent but comfortable.

"Hey, Jimin?" you whisper, breaking the silence momentarily.

"Hm?"

"Remember our senior year in high school?"

"Of course I do," Jimin says. That year was the hardest (arguably) in your life. It was the year where you learned of the fatalities of death. It was the year you had lost your granny.

"We had the conversation about our true fears that year," you say with so much nostalgia in your voice that when Jimin closes his eyes, he can see the events of that day unfold before him. "Turns out, I didn't have just one fear. I had two. One was losing Granny. The other was losing you. And you know? For two years, I thought I lost you both. It hurt to think that my best friend hated me so much he had to dissociate himself from my life."

"I didn't hate you," Jimin says, opening his eyes as he turns to his side to look at you. "I swear. I just figured it was a good time for me to self-improve. You know, become independent for once. And maybe I didn't like who you had become, but I never hated you."

"Really?" you say, turning to face your best friend. "I was so scared that you'd shit talk me if I ran after you when you left that I didn't do anything. I thought it would've been better if I let you go. But I mean, I think the time apart was needed. We've self-improved."

"Yeah," Jimin agrees.

"So..." you say, a silly grin appearing on your face, "are we reunited now? Best fucking friends forever?"

"Of course we are," Jimin says.

"Okay, good," you say. "And before you say anything else, I have to ask you something, Jimin."

"What is it, Y/N?" Jimin asks, sitting up as you start to rummage in the pockets of your skirt.

"I just—" you're unable to finish your sentence, smiling. "Will you color me green, please?" you politely ask as you hold out a green marker in your hands.

"Oh my god," Jimin breathes. "Is that—"

"I pulled him out of the trash, Jimin," you say, eyes watering with emotion. "As soon as you left that night, I pulled him out. And then I kept him with me for years. I even recently got the ink replaced so it works fine, now." You let your tears fall down your face and you blink rapidly to see your best friend's softened face. "Did you really think for a second that I'd throw him away?" you ask in your secret language.

Jimin almost sobs right then and there. He'd never thought he'd hear that language again, and even after two years, he's able to understand you fluently. He hopes he doesn't sound too awkward when he replies, "I mean, you did have him in the trash can," he laughs, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand. "You really want me to color you green again?"

"It's the bestest color in the world. What did you expect?"

Jimin's never been happier in his life. Tears streak your cheeks but you are unbothered by them, holding out Gilbert for Jimin to take. He takes note that you do not try to hide your tears anymore. In a way, you've become more beautifully confident. He realizes that you want to take him back to the start—the very beginning of when your friendship had commenced. With those simple words, "Will you color me green?" you've transported the two of you back to a place of innocence, of childishness, of thoughts of staying young forever, of avoiding maturity at all costs.

Outside, there's a slow drizzle of rain, indicating another spring shower. But above the soft gray rain clouds is a double rainbow. The colors are so vibrant, they wash away the monotonous hues of the clouds heavy with rain.

Romantic love makes people suffer. Jimin should know. He's been in love with you romantically for nearly two decades. He's felt feelings such as pain, experienced experiences such as heartbreak and dealt with the understanding of the wretched concept of unrequited love. But now? Two years later?

He realizes that you may never love him the way he had loved you. But that's okay. Because maturity is when you accept the way things are. Being childish is refusing to let go, which is what Jimin is too—he refuses to let go of you. But that goes the same for you, for you refuse to let go of Jimin.

You still love him. And for once in his whole fucking life, Jimin loves you in the same exact way that you love him.

a/n: find my behind the scenes thoughts and original endings here!

masterlist

[tt205]

UNCONDITIONALLY

LAN XICHEN x READER

Summary: Your somewhat boyish behavior always bothered many , especially now whole of Gusu Lan Clan was pissed with you . Sharing feelings with Lan Xichen is something that brought you quite close this days . Will love be enough to cover up all of your 'flaws' ?

Requested? : YES by rozesdanze and I'm apologizing again for this late upload .

WARNINGS: minor cursing, low self esteem , slight bullying nothing that may trigger you too much .

Words count : 3.440

•---------•---------••---------•---------••---------•---------•

You always were a free spirited person , not caring much about what everyone gotta say and just minding your own business while offering a helping hand where it was needed .

It was your nature , something you couldn't change.

Sometimes people told you to be more "feminine " or "act like a girl of your age " your somewhat boyish behavior bothering them .

You didn't mind it at all .

You grew up with only male friends except for Jiang Yanli and that's why you have adopted this 'strange for a girl ' behavior .

Everything was fine until you entered The Gusu Lan Clan Sect's area in the Cloud Recesses.

Your not so much disciplined ways of living bothered Lan Qiren and the rest of the ladies , that were supposed to be studying there and not gossip around .

It firstly started as comments now and then " dress like a girl " " style your hair like a girl " " why are you not wearing your hairpins ?" And such .

You brushed off the first couple of weeks but when the whole student community started making fun of you , you couldn't take it any more .

Your pride was indeed hurt .

If Wei Wuxian wasn't there you would have left this hell of a place and return back in Yumeng Clan, your hometown.

He was supportive as always , reassuring you that everything was fine with you and that you didn't have to change yourself in order to be accepted by others .

Your own self is what makes you unique.

If someone doesn't likes your real self then they dont deserve being with you .

•---------•---------••---------•---------••---------•---------•

You passed through the hallways trying to get in class when a group of so-good-for-nothing girls blocked your way .

A short girl two years older than you spoke first with this high pitched voice that make you want to slap her straight in the face "oh y/n I pity you so much .. how will you be able to find a good match in the future with such a poor manner set ? Tsts" she chuckled making your eyes go wide at her rudeness.

"I'm sure I will have more possibilities to find one than you .. I may not have the good manners you are claiming to have yourself but at least i am not rude with people i know nothing about " you answer her back bowing your head and trying to move through them .

"Move !" You ordered one of her side chicks Ling the stupid one .

" Oh my goodness.. this is not a way a lady should talk to another y/n " another one of her bitches talked.

You glared at her trying to push Ling to the side.

" why are you even talking to her Feng ? She cant even walk in a proper way yet not even get dressed up as a lady of her status she is a waste of time .. better let her become a puppet of her stupid friend the Yiling Patriarch-- "

"If you ever curse on Wei Wuxian in front of me I ll make sure to shut your mouth with my fist ! He is not making puppets to your information he is just controlling the Yin iron with skills you wish you could have ! Now move out of my sight !" You tell them totally pissed of .. you grab your sword case trying to put some sense in them but they dont seem to mind

" Stupid bitch no one will ever love you in this way ! Every one will pity your for being an unmarried pathetic bitch! In the end even your own family will abandon you - oh I forgot you've got none! " She curses at you and you feel like something is twisted to your core .

2 thing are what you hate the most 1. having people pitying you or telling you that they do and 2. People talking about your family .

That's it , before giving it a second thought you uncover your cased sword harshly .

You move it to your untied hair grabbing a fistful of them before moving the blade on them.

" 1st of all you are not even in the place to think about my family lowly peasant! Do you think that no one in here knows about your relationship with an already married man? " you ask her and she widens her eyes .

"secondly this is for you ! I'm a woman of my status and none my hair , clothing or manners can prove it otherwise! At least I'm not someone's slut!" You close your eyes before moving the blade in one sift motion and cutting half of your hair's length shortening it to shoulder's length.

"Now fuck off and don't dare to look at my direction again emptyheaded bitch!" You scream at her throwing all the hair on her face before making your way back to your room .

•---------•---------••---------•---------••---------•---------•

3 hours have passed since the incident and no one has reached for you yet .

"Good" you thought, because reconsidering your action you've broken more that 6 of Gusu lan clan's rules and show disrespect to your rank status by cutting your hair .

Before realizing it you heard someone knocking on your door "shit" you cursed in your brain , moving to the doorframe and opening the door only to come face to face with the Clan-leader-to-be Lan Xichen.

You bowed your head , forcing a smile on as you rubbed your hands together to sooth your embarrassment, way too shy to look your 'crush' to the eyes .

"Greeetings Zewu Jun " you said moving aside and making room for him to enter .

"Lan Qiren asked me to bring you to him" he said the smile that always hugged his features non apparent anymore.

"Your uncle?" You asked wishing to get a 'no' as an answer..

"Unfortunately yes !" He said looking down the floor .

After putting on your cloaks , you both made your way out of your room and moved to Lan Qiren's residence.

After a really long chat with him you were free to go NOT REALLY .

He asked Xichen to take you himself to the library in order to make 1.500 copies of the latest book he bought this year.

You sighed again in the thought of the pain your arm will have after finishing this task , only to earn one of Xichen's concerned glances .

•---------•---------••---------•---------••---------•---------•

As soon as seating down to your used by many times spot , you grabbed the pen and deeped it into the new-cut ink .

5 hours passed since you first started copying books and despite having nothing actually to do xichen seemed rather occupied.

You gave him a questionable look as you leaned your head in your hands looking to his place .

"You knew that this was going to put you in trouble y/n , why doing such a thing just to prove them wrong?" You raised your head upon hearing this words leaving Xichen's mouth , not formality in them , just casual talking.

" they have been getting on my nerves for more than 2 months I couldn't bear it -" you tried to explain yourself but he interrupted you

" You could have just come to me right from the beginning!" He looked pissed and you sifted in you seat shivering from the tone in his voice .

This man surely had some nerve in him, being more than a head taller than you was something that from the very start make it clear that you could better not get in any trouble with him .

Seeing his genuine and kind nature made you loose down your walls , allowing your heart to form feelings for him and now you are here unable to form a single word without stuttering in between.

" Y/n ? Cant you see it ?" He asked and you gave him a confused face in defense .

"What do you mean-?"

" I - i do care about you y/n , watching the others making your life a living hell including my uncle drives me crazy ! I tried so many times to show you how i feel about you just to give you a shelter, a safe place but you are not getting it " he sighed to himself clearly frustrated.

He removed a strand of hair out of his face looking to your not so calm face that was by now painted in a really deep shade of read .

Being the lil tease he secretly is , he wanted to get you even more freaked out by little .

He looked into your eyes with this calm face of his while saying " I love you y/n " and then returning to his desk and grabbing back his pen .

" I love you too " you said loud enough to even have the bunnies hear too outside , the silence inside the room making an echo to your voice .

In quick realization you moved your palm to your mouth clapping it fast and shutting down the curses about your stupidity that were ready to spill out .

" What ?" He asked in a teasing tone lifting his body higher and then sitting up completely moving to your place until he was studying right in front of you hovering some heads above you and then repeating then same question calmly.

This drove you crazy .

" How can a person be so calm in a situation like that ? " you screamed out loud mostly to yourself before reaching in front you and pinching the skin of his lower thigh .

You looked up to his face as he let out a high peached scream of pain "Lan Xichen you are driving me insane!"

You pinched him again with both hands now only to have him beg to be left in peace "Please y/n don't do this ! " he half laughed half screamed for the poor skin of his legs before reaching down and grabbing both your wrists once you didn't stop after his begs.

You squirmed in his grip before he moved both wrists to his lips , kissing the skin there and putting them back down the surface of your desk .

Your mouth was hanging open , such a big skin contact all of sudden leaving you shooked.

" I have done 14 copies of the book you are copying.. I'm taking a break for now but I'm returning back in 15 minutes straight! You continue your work little girl " he said before blinking his eye to you and moving out of the library .

"Excuse me ?! " you screamed as loud as you could looking both to your wrists and his distant form .

"This man is gonna drive me crazy sooner than I thought " you told yourself before returning to your work .

•---------•---------••---------•---------••---------•---------•

It's been 4 days since you started dealing with your punishment and you already have 276 copies ready to go but way more many on the way .

Today is a special day for Gusu lan Clan and it's students so it's the perfect opportunity for you to take a break tonight.

Gusu Lan Clan's biggest has come and you are now getting ready to attention the lantern festival with Wei Wuxian been apart for so many days making you miss him to death .

A sudden knock on the door made you jump on your spot .

Waiting for Wuxian you opened without asking for the person outside.

To your huge surprise there was not Wei Wuxian but Lan Xichen .

" I'm allowed to go in the festival today ! I asked your uncle this morning! You cannot keep me here- " you rushed to say to afraid of loosing your only chance out .

" I'm here to take you out myself so that you can return to the library straight after the ceremony finishes , my uncle has no intention searching for you so he sent me to make sure that there will be no way for you to sneak out " he said calmly giving you a teasing smile .

You looked around searching for Wei Wuxian but there you found him next to Lan Wangji holding a paper lantern together.

You giggled at the view of Wuxian's flashed cheeks when his hand touched Wangji's accidentally.

The moment when all of the lighting lanterns had to fly to the sky arrived so you moved to catch the one in front of you but regretted it at the sight of Xichen doing the same .

You felt shy at your silly mistake don't understanding that the lantern wasn't for you but for him and you bowed in discomfort cursing to yourself for making you look even more stupid to him .. your fucking crush .

" I think this is for the both of us y/n " he told you taking your hands in his making you catch some part of the paper .

" Every one can make a wish as their lantern will make their way up ! I'm sure that each and every wish of yours will be fulfilled in the near future and luck will always saw a good face to you and your loved ones ! This year was one of educational progress, health and wisdom. I hope that all of you will follow the path we Gusu Lan Clan taught you about , a path of righteousness, fairness and virtue. Now I'll count up to 5 so all of you will have to prepare your lanterns! " Lan Qiren announced making you look around for some fire to put in the light .

"One" he started

"Two" the lantern was ready to go so you thought about making a wish

" I wish y/n would give me a chance to prove my sincere feelings for her while living and following the path of the good , avoiding the sinful road and having zero regrets. " the man next to you whispered mostly to himself with closed eyes as he hold onto your lantern tightly.

Your eyes blinked twice the having the man you wish to call yours one day admitting his feelings again .

" I wish I'll become a woman of my status so I can let myself be loved by the man I love without minding if I'll ruin his reputation with my inappropriate image " you whispered to both to him and to yourself, admitting how you really felt with this complicated situation .

You didn't want to change yourself, no not at all, but you just hopped the time could change you into what you could call ideal woman , wife , without feeling much pain in the progress.

It was true , him loving you would ruin his and the Gusu Lan Clan's reputation .

The future Clan Leader having feelings for a punk?

A girl with no manners?

Without a family and depending only on Yumeng Sect and her uncle ?

Sometimes you wished you were different, somewhat like your cousin Yanli but no , in the end you wouldn't be you , you would be someone fake .

You would be someone even more miserable.

You are clearly confused by now .

Shall I change and become what the world around me wants to or be myself and let them talk shit without minding a bit ?

The 1st one is the easy way , but the 2nd one is what will make you struggle but be you at the very last .

"Three " Lan Qiren spoke as you tried to regain your composure and focus .

"Four " all of the disciplines lifted their lanterns up readying them once more .

"Y/n would you like to be the person I call home from now on ?" Xichen asked you .

"I can't-"

" Yes you can ! If there is love in between everything can be worked out !" He cut you

" Is there any love from your side y/n ?" He asked you and you didn't want a second more to know the answer

"Yes there is "

" See ? There is no reason you can't let me love you , call you mine , make you the person I want to return after the storm . I want to be the person you need , you love , I want to be your everything, would you allow me to do that ? "

" Don't you mind I'm who I am ? "

"Five! Let them go and fly high " Lan Qiren called and you did as you were told

"No , I don't . I love you for who you really are y/n not for who I want you to be " Xichen said making you look down the floor to afraid to be loved but at the same time loose who you really love .

"I really like you , no I can say that I love you , everything you do . And all I want is to protect and take you home with me .

Will you come and live in Gusu with me ?

I wanna be with you forever and even though it's really early to say would you like to marry me one day ?

I'm sure that even though you are not my uncle's favorite person out there he will accept the fact that we want to be together.

We can call your uncle to come and set a marriage for us in the years to follow .

I will give you as much time as you feel like taking but I want to make my feelings clear to you from the very beginning.

Would you like to marry me and be the next Gusu Lan Clan's Leader wife ? " he asked always to rushed as his cheeks took a red color painting his pale skin .

"Yes I would love to ! Even if i could marry every man on earth you would be my one and only choice in every lifetime and every dimension I could live , I would choose you again"

You answer him with a little smile in the end as both of you hugged gaining glares from all the people around you .

" Does this mean that we are official?" He asked

"I guess so " you told his hiding you face in his strong torso .

" FELLOW HUMANS IM GETTING MARRIED TO MY BELOVED Y/N I WISH YOU ALL CAN MAKE IT TO OUR MARRIAGE IN THE NEAR FUTURE !" He screamed making you punch him lightly in his lower abdomen as he fake screamed in pain .

" That means that we will be siblings by law y/n?" Wuxian asked while jumping his way to your derection happily

" What do you mean A-Xian?" You asked confused .

" We are getting married too brother !" Lan Wangji said as both yours and Xichen's jaw dropped open .

" Congratulations!" Both of you screamed out loud as you went hugging them .

The four of you hugged while jumping together but then there he came Jiang Cheng.

" That means I'm the only single bird rn? Thanks guys thanks!" He said while glaring at you four .

" No you are not sweetheart!" Nie Huaisang appeared giving Cheng a misiviews smile before hiding his now flashed cheeks behind his fan .

" BOLD OF YOU TO ASSUME THAT I'M THAT DESPERATE! I BETTER BE PUNCHED IN THE FACE BY WEN QING AGAIN RATHER THAN DATING YOU ! " Jiang Cheng screamed in Huiesung's face before storming away in order to search for his short tempered other half Wen Qing .

" There we go again " Wuxian said

" Yes there we go again " you added and the four of you started laughing until tears formed in your eyes and too little oxygen was making it's way into your lungs.

This is the best feeling.

Be with people that you love and love you ,

Without loosing faith in you ,

Without wanting to make you someone else ,

Without wanting to control you

People that love you unconditionally.

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