#like i said i personally wouldn’t have done it and i think it came off a little cringe

[captainreecejames]

Just Friends || MV1 Oneshot

part of the my ex is a footballer series [masterlist] [my ex series masterlist] [max smau]

pairings max verstappen x reader with some ex!ben chilwell x reader in the smau part, danielle campbell is the faceclaim but reader is not described in this part so imagine however

word count 5.2k

warnings talks about depression, injuries and blood dealing with hands, hospitals and medical stuff, mentions of jos verstappen, cursing, angst and fluff, not proofread so probably shitty writing and mistakes

notes this took longer than I initially imagined because i was stuck on how to get it started, but after a good nights sleep and words of encouragement from @coff33andb00ks I got this puppy started. This fic includes Adrian Newey as the point red bull person so I could avoid horner and max as an almost dog dad because I'm a dog person. It starts in the middle of the 2022 season and goes through the 2023 season. If there is enough interest, I might continue to write these two together because I really enjoyed it and there is more to explore.

songs to listen to while reading you're losing me-taylor swift / so long, london-taylor swift / same mistakes-one direction / lose you to love me-selena gomez

You met Max on accident, according to you. When you talked to your father about it years later, you would learn it was no accident. 

><

He was golfing with Adrian Newey and more coworkers but had forgotten his wallet, so he asked you to drop it off.

Now you knew he worked at Red Bull, so really it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that you would eventually meet Max Verstappen, but you walked into the country club expecting to meet some older man, not the reigning Formula 1 world champion. 

How'd Max know who to approach? Your father had shown him a picture of you so he would know who to look for. While you were searching the lobby, Max had come up to you, saying your name.

You had plenty of experience meeting famous people, even one’s who knew your name before meeting (perks of dating a football star) but it was still a shock. 

The meeting consisted of shy words and you fumbling around your bag for your father’s wallet and that’s it. No matter how much experience you had with famous athletes, it would still be weird meeting them. You wouldn’t see Max again for a few weeks, he was busy with races and staying in Monaco.

The next time would be at the base, once again you were dropping something off for your dad. This time it was lunch that he just insisted he needed, not whatever was being served in the cafe that day. 

You stood in the lobby, waiting for your father to get out of a meeting, admiring the trophies on display when Max came up to you. 

He will argue in the future that you admiring his trophies made him interested, and that he wasn’t over a little bragging if it got the attention of a pretty girl. That argument ignores the scheming that your father and Adrian had done, from complaining about your lack of interest in the sport to complaining about you needing to get out more. (Your lack of interest in the sport wasn’t true, just that you preferred Ferrari over the local team.)

So with the subliminal messaging from your father, Max was interested in you.

“I thought you didn’t really like the sport,” he said coming to stand at your side. 

You jumped slightly, not expecting anyone to approach you. “Why would you think that?”

“Your father.” You turn to him with a confused face and Max decided to clarify. “He talks about you a lot.”

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t listen to half of what he says.”

“Really? Even when he talks about the chassis?” His words are teasing and you think he’s flirting with you.

“Maybe that you can listen to.” You shrug, turning back to the cabinet. “He’s really just jealous that I prefer Ferrari.” 

Of fucking course, the Italian team. “A fan of Leclerc?” You can hear the bitterness in his voice and it shocks you a little how quickly he changes his mood.

“He’s okay,” you shrug again. Max thinks that your nonchalantness is annoying, why can’t you just admit you find Charles hot and move on.

(Hidden in the stairwell, Adrian and your father are a little nervous. They can tell that this isn’t going as well as hoped.)

“Schumacher has been my favorite, but I think of the current drivers its Vettel.” Now Max realizes that the two of you are standing in front of Sebastian’s 2010 championship trophy, and he feels a little embarrassed he didn’t realize sooner. “I’m a little bitter he didn’t win the championship with Ferrari.”

There are more “chance” meetings, but the conversation flows much easier now. Like the dinner at Adrian Newey’s house and after, when he has to give you a ride back to your new place because your parents don’t want to leave yet. Or the time when it’s suggested that you give him a ride to Luton airport because it’s on your way to London. Or even the holiday party at the end of the year where he has to give you a ride again because you’re tipsy and shouldn’t drive. 

It’s the airport drive when you both realize that you’re being set up by Adrian and your father, which causes a lot of awkwardness between the both of you during your goodbyes.

You go back home a few days later and scold your father for the set up. You don’t need another relationship right now, you tell him. He says he knows, but Max makes you happy in a way he hasn’t seen in years and that makes him happy. Your mother reminds him that you need to be happy without a man first and he says he’ll give up the endeavors to push you on to Max. If Adrian happens to come up with any more ideas that's not his fault, the man is a genius afterall.

The holiday party is more of an accident than anything, your father and mother leave much earlier than you, and so you are stuck with Max to drive you home.

He complained about the hotel he was staying at, so you offer him some time in your apartment to get away from fancy places and he takes you up on it. And now that you're home, it does’t seem like a bad idea to have another drink, just to take the edge off of having Max in your place. 

“Would you like another drink?” you offer while making your own gin and tonic. He stares around at the quiet kitchen, taking in the place that feels very you. “Or perhaps some tea?” He shakes his head no, eyes catching a picture of you hugging Ben. It’s an old picture, from when Leicester City won the league and you’ve only recently dug it out of the box it was sitting in. 

“I thought you were single,” he says, picking up the picture to examine it closer.

“I am,” you answer, turning around from the counter to look at him. You’re about to ask him where the question came from when you see what’s in his hands. “That’s from 2016, when Leicester City won the league.” Max nods like he understands, but he doesn’t.

“Who’s this?” he points to Ben.

“Ben Chilwell.” Maybe if you’re just vague enough, he’ll drop it. He doesn’t.

“Okay,” he draws it out. “Who is he to you?”

Not much of anything anymore, is what you want to say. You settle for something vague again. “A friend.”

“Looks like more than a friend.” Is Max trying to provoke you or something? He can tell you’re growing frustrated with him and it makes him feel guilty. “Sorry, I just, don’t know much about your life before here.”

You sigh, deciding that alcohol probably isn’t the best drink for now. You move to the kettle next to the stove, opting for tea to help calm you down. 

“Ben and I dated until a couple months ago, I moved back home right after we broke up.” He nods along with your story and you continue the tea making process. “Ben and I were childhood sweethearts, together since we were like 14 years old. So that makes,” it takes you a minute to do the math in your head, “12 years together.” You don’t turn to see what Max’s face looks like. A lot of people during your relationship with Ben were in awe of how long you were together, but there were some who thought it was silly and childish. Who stayed with someone they were dating since 14? (Apparently not you.)

You thought it was romantic up until a few months before the break up. Childhood sweethearts, best friends to lovers, boy next door, all tropes you loved in books and you were living it in real life! Until it wasn’t. Until you moved in the middle of a pandemic to a new city with no support system and became depressed. Until Ben needed support you and you couldn’t make yourself see that giving him everything was leaving you with nothing. 

It took an intervention from your parents to see that you were depressed, and an offhand comment about marriage from Ben to see that the relationship wouldn’t go anywhere new.

“What happened?”

“He didn’t want to marry me.”

><

“I’m just not sure I’m want to marry her, yet,” Ben says to the group. There’s a pause before he says yet, like someone made a face and he’s trying to placate them.

What the fuck? you want to ask. You want to scream it, really, because what the fuck does he mean by that? You’ve been together for over ten years, he’s said since Leicester that he only wants you, for the rest of his life. And now... now he doesn’t know? How the fuck do you not know? How can he not know? It makes you angry, the most emotion you’ve felt in probably months and it’s anger at your boyfriend.

Your grip on your glass is tightening, turning your knuckles white with the force and you worry the glass will shatter in your hand.

It does, but you don’t feel it. You don’t hear the glass shattering in your hand or on the floor, don't feel the splash of ice, gin, and tonic on your legs.

What you feel is something akin to clarity, because you’ve been living in a fog for months, probably the two years you’ve been in London and now you know how Ben feels. If he doesn’t want to marry you now, he probably won’t ever want it.

It takes your friend coming over and putting a hand on your shoulder for you to realize that something is physically wrong. That your hand is bleeding from glass cuts and you’re standing in a puddle of water and alcohol and some blood.

Emma says your name a little louder to grab your attention and now people are staring at you, wondering what’s caused the glass to shatter in your hand. She ignores them, pulling you across the room so she can take care of you.

Unfortunately, the glass is too deep and you have to be taken to an emergency room, where the nurses and doctors fuss over your hand. They ask you questions about how it happened, you explain that a glass shattered in your hands. They're suspicion is eased when Emma corroborates your story. It's soon after that you're allowed to go home.

All this time, Ben hasn’t come running into the room desperate to find you, and that reminds you why you’re here in the first place. Because Ben isn’t sure he wants to marry you.

><

“That’s how you got the scars on your hand?” Max is gentle when he takes your hand in his, holding it so delicately like you might break. You nod, but don’t pull away from him. His touch is soft and it makes you feel something you haven’t felt in a while. His hand turns so you can see the own scar on his hand. “I got this one from Jimmy, my cat.” He lets you run a finger over the scratch on the back of his hand. You run your hand over it one more time and Max get’s goosebumps from your touch.

You look up at him from your hands, your eyes roaming his face and seeing how sincere he is. It makes you nervous. 

You pull your hands back, stepping away to grab a mug for your tea and busy your hands with something besides his own.

Max can see you close off on him, but the story isn’t over yet. “What happened after the hospital?”

><

“Are you going to tell me why this happened?” Emma asks finally, walking with you out of the ED. She’s stayed the whole time, occasionally popping out to call your other friends and update them on the situation. 

It’s on the tip of your tongue to tell her, but you know what she’ll say: 'break up with him already, it’s not going anywhere and you’re obviously hurting over this. '

It’s not what you want to hear, you love Ben so much because you’ve always loved him, he’s all you’ve ever known and it used to be so good, so you know it can go back to being good.

It has to. You need it to. 

So you try to laugh it off, say that your grip is much stronger than you thought and that there must have been a hairline fracture in the glass.

But Emma doesn’t buy it. She lets you try to joke your way out of this, lets you laugh uncomfortably as she stares at you, and then pulls you to a halt at the corner. Your uneasy smile falls and you sigh. You know better than to try and hide this from her. 

“Ben said something,” it’s a whisper, like the quieter you say it makes it hurt less. She waits for you to continue, knowing that you’ll explain if she doesn’t push too hard. You take a deep breath, hoping that the air will do something, anything to make it easier to say out loud. “He’s not sure if he wants to marry me.” You hold the pause like he did, adding the yet in a pointed tone. With how much Ben has hurt you, you still want to spare him the criticism. You love him.

Emma immediately goes off, like you know she would, so you tune it out. It’s nothing you haven’t heard in the last year. 

The traffic light turns green, and you begin your walk back to the carpark, looking around the spaces to find your friend's car.

“YN!” another voice shouts. It’s Ben. 

He’s jogging to you across the lot, eyes a little wide like he’s been panicking for a while. “Why didn’t you grab me before leaving?” He means to direct the question to Emma, but he’s looking at you and you feel like he’s blaming you. “I was looking for you across the house until someone finally told me that you left for the emergency department. I was worried sick.” He looks it, you think. He does care. He wouldn’t look like that if he didn’t care. “You weren’t answering your phone, and-“ he cuts himself off as he stares at your hand. “What the hell happened?”

Oh- he doesn’t know. 

“She heard you,” Emma answers. You want to stop her, explain for yourself so you can just go home and sleep.

“What?” Ben asks, confusion across his face for a second before he realizes. You heard him. You heard him. “You weren’t meant to hear that.”

That’s his excuse?

“That’s your excuse?” Emma takes the words from of your mouth, but not the anger from your body, you clench your bandaged hand, wincing when it pulls at the stitches. Ben is still looking at you, but you’re unable to read him. “She wasn’t meant to fucking hear that?” Her voice is shrill and it grates on you because of a headache, but you know she means well. “You know what, fuck you Ben Chilwell! Go fucking rot in ditch!” With that she pulls you away from him, rushing the two of you towards her car so she can drive you to her home.

><

“That’s his excuse?” Max’s tone is just like Emma’s on that night and still you want to defend Ben. Your relationship is long over with the footballer, but that doesn’t mean you don’t love him. 

“I was a mess then,” you tell him, pouring your water into the cup, “I wouldn’t want to marry me either.”

“But he loved you, and you don’t say something like that about someone you love.” Max looks angry next to you, and that scares you even more. Not because of his anger, but because he clearly cares so much and you’re not sure if you deserve it. 

“Listen to me,” Max grabs your arms, pulling you to face him in your small kitchen. “Friends, boyfriends, people who love you-“ (Do his hands squeeze you harder on friends or boyfriends?) “They don’t talk about you like that behind your back. And also they notice when you’re gone, when you’re hurt, when you aren’t’ yourself.”

“But he was also hurting,” there are tears in your eyes from his words because you believe them, but also you still love Ben.

“And so were you, clearly. Yet you could tell something was wrong with him and he couldn’t see it in you?” Max has known you for only a few months, and has spent even less time physically with you, but he sees you and the way your brain works so clearly and that’s really scary. He must see something in your eyes because then he backs off, taking a step away to put distance between your bodies and space to breathe.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, “I didn’t mean to get so intense.” You shake your head, trying to put away the thoughts of his beautiful blue eyes staring into your own. “Just sometimes, I really want people to know that they deserve better.”

“No, it’s okay.” You pull the tea bag out of the water, looking down for the tiny plate to leave it on. “You’re not the first person to say that to me and you probably won’t be the last.” He nods, watching you spoon sugar into the tea. “But thank you for saying that, sometimes," you pause, "sometimes, it’s good to be reminded.”

><

Your friendship grows from there, but it doesn’t evolve into anything romantic. You’re clearly still healing from Ben and no matter how much he thinks about you while he’s in Monaco or off at a race, you need time.

So instead your flat becomes his base when he’s needed at the factory. He can leave clothes and toiletries at your place without worry, he can sneak a nice home cooked meal from you or your parents when he’s there, and he doesn’t have to deal with shitty hotel mattresses. (Even though it’s a Five Star hotel.)

He meets your friends when a girls night overlaps with some sim testing. They really like him and can see that his awkward charm has pulled you in.

You meet Danny Ric at the beginning of the 2023 season, when Red Bull decides to make him their reserve driver, and the two of you are like two peas in a pod. (On the plane back to Monaco Danny asks him when he’s finally going to ask you out.)

(Max shakes his head and tells him that you two are just friends, because that’s what you need. Just friends.)

Max invites you to the Monaco Grand Prix, but you decline, not interested in the media scrutiny that comes with that particular race. You say yes to the Spanish Grand Prix in Barcelona, but after he peaks at the invite list he tells you it’s probably not the best idea. You agree with him when you finally get him to tell you why you're uninvited. The Silverstone Grand Prix is during a girls trip, and with how busy it gets, you both drop the subject for a while. 

When Max clinches his third championship in Qatar you finally decide that you need to go to a race. The next one is in Texas, but it doesn’t work with your schedule so you get the passes for Mexico.

><

The Mexican Grand Prix is the perfect race to join. It’s Checo’s home race, so the focus is on him instead of Max. You stand to the back of the garage, hiding from view on Friday and Saturday. Occasionally you’ll talk with some engineers you’ve met before or share a few minutes with Adrian, but most of the time is in hiding Max’s drivers room with him. 

Most of Sunday is spent talking with the stars in the garage, explaining why you’re here and how you know people. You avoid any interviews with Sky Sports, knowing that somehow they’ll bring up Ben and Chelsea’s current run of form, something that you just can’t deal with. 

So you stay in the back of the garage, celebrate the podium in the back of the crowd and don’t wait up for Max to finish media duties, instead heading back to the hotel. It hurts to hide yourself away, you want to be the first to congratulate him on a win, or comfort him after a loss. But it’s for the best, you try convince yourself. You're just friends.

Max isn’t bitter about the decision at all. Being noticed at this race is a beacon to all fans that you are something to someone, and no matter how much he maybe wants that to be true, you’re just friends. Besides you have dinner with him and a few of the drivers and their own significant others, so really what more could he ask for?

After the season is over he’s back in Milton Keynes to finish up some things before heading out to start his holidays. Most of them will be spent with his family in Belgium or in Monaco, so he is determined to at least spend a day with you before leaving. He wasn’t planning on it being at a dog shelter.

><

“I think I want a dog,” you had told him while in Mexico. You’d spent a year alone in the flat (not counting Max practically moving in when he was needed at HQ) and things were too quiet for you. 

“Okay.” You were relaxing in his driver’s room before Free Practice 2. You’re both on the couch, him with an iPad going over some data and you with your feet up on his lap researching shelters on your phone. The domesticity of it all was frustrating.

“Are you allergic to dogs?” you ask. You know about Jimmy and Sassy back in Monaco, and he really doesn’t seem like dog person at all, but his opinion on this matters to you. His opinion on the most mundane and trivial things now matter to you. He doesn’t pay rent and so he doesn’t get the final say on anything, but if it makes life easier in Milton Keynes, you want to know what he thinks.

“No, I just prefer cats.” You nod, scrolling through the shelter’s website, looking at dogs and trying to decide which one looks like it needs love the most. “Lewis knows a lot about dogs, you can ask him about it.” It’s hard to get the sentence out, because Lewis having a say in something about your life just isn’t right. 

You shake your head no. “Lewis Hamilton doesn’t sleep in my spare bedroom.” It’s the same argument you make every time you suggest changing something in flat, and while it annoys him that you won’t take any money to pay for small stuff, it still makes him smile. 

“What do you think about this one?” you show him a picture of a Jack Russell Terrier, coincidentally named George. 

“If you get him you need to change his name.”

“Why?” You ask in fake offense. “I think he looks very much like a George.” But you move on anyway, terriers are too active for your lifestyle, you wouldn’t be able to give him the love he deserves. 

You keep on scrolling, feet still in his lap, him still looking through his iPad. You gasp suddenly, pushing yourself up and moving your legs so you can sit on them, much closer to Max. “Look!” you shove your screen in his face. “They just rescued a corgi with puppies! I love corgis!” He can see the excitement in your face and knows that he won’t ever say no to you if you look like that again. 

You pull your phone back, reading through the description quickly. “We are keeping Mama and puppies together for a few weeks to ensure health, puppies will be available for adoption in December. Please register interest.” You're pulling out your laptop to send an email when you're done.

Later that night, when you’re trying to sleep you admire how he let you rant about this dog that you’re getting. You love how he always indulges you on topics about your flat; you love that he’ll watch a shitty tv show with you and listen to you rant about the characters. You love that when you ask him questions about racing he answers with so much sincerity and interest that you can’t help but want to know more. You love so much about him that you think you might love him. 

No, you know you love him.

><

That’s how you got here, with Max at a shelter picking up a tiny corgi. Max has been carrying the collar and leash and necessary paperwork as you play with the small dog, contagious laughter falling from your lips.

“Think I should name him Charles, what do you think?” You look up from the ground, eyes so bright and happy. The smile on your face is teasing, but he misses the name because it hits him.

He’s in love with you.

He’s unable to answer you with his sudden realization, because the only words he can think of are “I love you” or long strings of curse words. 

You think he doesn’t like your joke and try to back track right away. “I’m kidding, obviously. I’m not gonna name him Charles.” Still Max only stares. “Is everything okay?” You stand up, still holding the puppy in your hands. “I promise I’m not going to name him Charles, but I’m sorry for the joke.” The puppy barks in your arms, snapping Max out of his trance. “What do you need, little one?” You ask the dog, momentarily forgetting Max’s presence. That’s what he needs, just a few seconds of you not looking at him to get his thoughts in line. He can’t be in love with you, because you don’t need a boyfriend. Just friends. 

Except he can be in love with you. Because you make him smile all the time, because you offered your spare bedroom to him so he didn’t have to deal with a shitty hotel mattress, because you send him pictures of cats you meet on the street, and let him over explain when you have questions about races. You deal with his mood swings when Jos contacts him. (It’s more than just dealing. You comfort and distract and do anything he needs.)

And maybe you do need just a friend still, but he can still love you.

It takes 20 minutes for you to finish up the paperwork for the shelter, which Max spends playing with the dog and he decides maybe he could be a your dog person. 

The ride back to your place is short, your minds replaying the same moment when you asked him what you should name the little puppy sleeping in the back. You feel bad, like you've insulted him; he’s trying to come up with a way to tell you what he’s realized.

Nothing happens that night, and nothing happens when he leaves for Monaco the next morning. 

Texts between the two of you comprise of pictures of Denny the corgi, Jimmy and Sassy the cats, and updates on how people liked their presents. It feels off, but you have no idea how to make it feel right.

On December 30th, you plan to catch your flight to Nice, but your father gets into an accident and you can’t leave your mom to deal with everything on your own. You say sorry to Max repeatedly, tell him to wish everyone there a Happy New Year and focus back on the quiet life with Denny. 

On December 31st, you wake up to the smell of coffee and toast. It’s alarming because no one else is here, so why does it smell like breakfast?

You push open the door cautiously, forgetting for a moment that Denny is there, so he sneaks out the tiny crack. “Denny! No!” you whisper-shout, hurrying after the little guy, all regard for your own safety lost. You find him in the arms of Max, licking his face and wiggling his butt with untamed excitement. “Max?”

“Hi, schatje.” His smile is almost enough to distract you from the fact that he is here. You approach the two slowly, grabbing Denny from his arms to put him down. 

“What are you doing here?” Denny paws at you, reminding you that he needs to go out and do his business. 

Max ignores your question, instead pushing a mug of coffee into your hands. “Take this, I’ll take Denny outside.” He grabs Denny from the floor again, making his way to the front where you have his leash hanging up. “Be right back, schatje.” You can only nod at him, watching the two walk out of the front door.

They’re back in two minutes, enough time for you to put out Denny’s breakfast and drink some of your coffee in peace, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that Max is here. The door opens and Denny comes rushing in, Max close behind. He hangs up the leash with his keys, then turns back to you with a smile.

Max takes his own mug, leaning his back against the counter to watch you. “Why are you here?” you ask again. 

“You said you couldn’t come to Monaco for New Year’s, so I thought I’d come here.” He says it so casually it irritates you. “Plus, I can take some work off of you or your mom when dealing with your Dad.”

Oh, he’s being sweet. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, but I want to help someone I love.” He says that so casually it catches you off guard. Thank god you didn’t have anything in your mouth or you would have definitely spit it out.

He smirks over his cup, watching you splutter for an answer to his simple confession. “You… you love me?” He nods then puts his mug down. A few steps over to you and he grabs the one in your hands, putting that down next to his own. With his other hand he moves to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. You want to ask what he’s doing, try to stop this before it can even start, but Max is determined. (You’re grateful for that.)

There’s almost no space left between the two of you, just enough really for him to be able to look at your face while he asks if this is okay. A gulp, a breath, and a nod later he’s dipping his head down to yours, closing the distance, and kissing you. 

Your eyes close instantly. Your hands travel to their own accord, reaching up to lock around his neck and keep him close. Your ears ring for some odd reason and your nose can only smell coffee. You can taste red bull on his lips and you wonder how long he's been up.

The kiss is soft and slow and over before you really have a chance to appreciate it.

You open your eyes to see him, his lips spread in a wide smile that has you blushing. “Been waiting to do that for a while.” That has you blush even deeper, but he doesn’t let you dip your head to hide it. “Seriously, schatje. I love you.”

“I love you too.” It’s a whisper, but he doesn’t miss it with how close you are. But even if he had missed it, you’ll say it so many more times in the future that people get sick of it.

[frozenjokes]

Lost In Translation

“Right. You all have thirty minutes, or until I get tired of you; a far more likely outcome to happen in very little time, so think twice before you two go on yelling and talking over each other,” Etho threw an aggressive point at Scar and Grian from their place on the sand, tail flicking irritably. They had some sort of human game in front of them, thinly sliced human scraps with shapes and symbols Mumbo didn’t understand, but given Etho’s less than joyous mood, Mumbo held off on the questions. He got the feeling he may have been pushing it already by asking Etho to come back to the shore to speak with all of them, but the other mermaid had only looked tired, not completely unwilling. Mumbo understood. Very little peace with those two. He nodded along as Etho translated what they’d said to Mumbo, but startled at their next words, ‘You first, Mumbo. Say whatever you want to say.’

Oh goodness. He hadn’t prepared for this. Well- obviously he’d thought about what he wanted to say, but he hadn’t expected to be first! Etho made a small huffing noise in response to Mumbo’s anxious clicking, which was entirely indistinguishable between amusement or annoyance, but they didn’t say anything, fins patient. Not patient, however, were the two humans on the shore, boring holes with their barely contained excitement right into Mumbo’s soul. Goodness. Oh god. To escape their eyes, Mumbo dove into his bag of trinkets.

‘Gifts. I want to give them their gifts. Music boxes. The music boxes. Tell them they’re fragile, please, very fragile. I don’t know if they work above water, and I don’t quite see why they wouldn’t, but I’ve never tested it- I don’t want them to break. Tell them they’re fragile.’ Mumbo dug out the boxes, gingerly placing them where the water met the shore and backing away.

“He brought you two both a gift from where he’s from, a very important cultural thing, so for the love of god, don’t break them. They’re music boxes, they play mermaid songs. They work underwater, so don’t try to play them outside of it. He wants to stress that they’re fragile, but I think Mumbo thinks humans are a bit clumsier than..” Etho trailed off, staring the two humans down, “Nevermind. Treat these like glass. The boxes are sturdy, though.”

“Okay, I’m making a conscious effort not to be offended by that.”

“Gifts?” Scar, barely contained, squealed over the tail end of whatever Grian had said, launching himself toward the water in a way that made Mumbo’s stomach lurch. He was going to break it. No doubt.

“You’re making him nervous, Scar,” Etho mumbled, and Scar stopped short over the boxes, looking almost startled from Etho to Mumbo to Etho to Mumbo to Etho again.

“What? He’s not doing anything. Did he say something?”

“No. Do you say something everytime you’re uncomfortable?”

“No. Usually I make a face about it though,” Scar gestured vaguely to Mumbo, who was really wishing Etho would do the translation thing he came here to do right now.

“You own a zoo, Scar. You are the animal guy,” Etho sounded exasperated, which was really making Mumbo anxious now. Come on, Scar! Don’t ruin this. But Scar didn’t look any less confused; if anything, he looked frustrated, brows furrowed and frowning.

“Alright, great, yeah, I do animals. I don’t know if you noticed, but that’s a whole ass person!” Scar made a grander gesture, and Etho flicked his tail, but Scar wasn’t done, “I know Mumbo doesn’t really emote like people do, but he’s obviously sentient! I don’t understand how dehumanizing him is helping anyone! I mean, besides making some people feel less badly about plotting to murder and sell the bits of our friend here-“

“Okay.” Grian bristled, but Scar didn’t stop.

“I won’t draw a line between the two of us like we’re any different. I don’t respect Mumbo any differently than I respect the both of you, and that isn’t to say I think down on Animals In General either, because I don’t, obviously, but it isn’t the same. It kind of bothers me that you think of Mumbo so differently- especially you-“

“Scar.” Etho said flatly, eyes lidded, “Shut up.” Scar blanched, but didn’t speak, so Etho went on, “That,” he pointed to Mumbo, “Is not a human. That is a mermaid. I have no idea what’s running through that head of yours, but Mumbo is not a human person. You can not read him like a human person. He does emote, quite expressively at that. With his fins. Just like a dog or cat does with their ears, or some other equivalent.“ ‘-you complete fucking buffoon, what the fuck are you going on about.’

“Oh.” Scar stared at Mumbo for a moment, who was doing a poor job at pretending he wasn’t very irritated right now. “Oh. I see it.”

“Have you not been looking at his fins?” Grian asked, the question more genuine than anything, but Scar clearly interpreted the tone otherwise, hunching his shoulders with a defensive huff.

“Of course I have! When they’re moving a lot I do! But they don’t usually move that much.” Was Scar angry? Mumbo was having a difficult time telling. He didn’t really sound angry- more.. squeaky. What did it mean when a human was squeaky? Grian opened his mouth to say something, but clearly thought better of it. Etho did not have the same reservations.

“You haven’t been looking at his face, have you?” Etho paused, fins flaring in sudden thought, “You haven’t been looking at my face have you?”

“Of course I’ve been looking at your face!” Scar threw up his arms, “I look at all of you!”

“That- Scar. Mermaids don’t make expressions like humans do. We literally do not have the muscles in our faces- mermaids don’t emote like that! Do you know how weird it was to go from nothing to my face just Moving all of the time?” Etho’s exasperation seemed to shift, looking more like he had been wronged by The World than just Scar.

“Are you really worried about where I’m looking or do you just want to complain,” Scar huffed with just a hint of a smile, and honestly, Mumbo had completely given up trying to puzzle out how anyone here was feeling.

“To complain!”

Scar snorted, “Well then, human Etho doesn’t make many faces anyway, so I don’t bother looking much at all.”

“Good! I don’t want anyone looking at my face while I’m possessed. Scratch that, I don’t want anyone looking at me ever.”

“We can all tell.”

“Good!”

“What.” Mumbo cut in firmly, unable to take any more of this, before remembering there was someone here who he could complain to in far more detail, ‘You two are just as bad as Scars and Red. Do I get to know what you’re bickering about, or do I have to stay in the dark forever?’

Etho blinked, staring for a moment before looking back to Scar, “He’s mouthy.” Mumbo bristled with a short hiss.

“What? What did he say?” Grian perked up, then, after a quick glance at Mumbo, puffed up defensively, “Well I bet he feels left out! No wonder!”

‘They’re defending you,’ Etho clicked with a short gesture, and Mumbo was too struck between vindication and annoyance to react, ‘Scars wasn’t using their brain. They’re weird about you.’

‘Weird? What does that mean?’

Etho rolled their fins, a wordless non-answer, and Mumbo had to consciously lay his own fins flat to avoid screaming his frustration to the world. Humans! The WORST.

‘I don’t like how you talk to each other,’ Mumbo huffed, fins twitching, ‘You didn’t used to be so mean. Now whenever any of you are together all you do is argue without any regard for anyone else. What changed? Are you all in season or something?’

Etho gaped at Mumbo for a moment, a human expression, before breaking out into that odd human half-laugh, wheezing a howl with flared gills. The longer this went on, the more Mumbo was convinced that Etho might actually just be dying, and given the strained looks on Grian and Scar’s faces, it seemed they were thinking similarly, but Etho did straighten up eventually, making a gesture of wiping something from their face that Mumbo didn’t understand the meaning of.

“Mumbo thinks you two have been so bad to each other because you’re horny, and he’s right.” Etho wheezed (laughed?) once more, holding their chest, but whatever they’d said (a translation, maybe?) definitely had an impact, both Grian and Scar jumping in alarm, their faces ranging from strained to outright distressed.

“What- how- Mumbo!” Scar wailed, but in his loss for words, Grian took over.

“We haven’t- Where’s he gotten this impression from! We hardly even visit together at all! What, did we argue one time and he’s just- What exactly did he say!?”

Well, Mumbo hadn’t really been serious, but he was starting to think he was onto something now. Huh. The more you know. Maybe he should make a mental note to avoid humans in the late summer- how long was this going to last? Etho said something in human that Mumbo missed, Grian only cutting through his thought with the sheer volume of his protest.

“That is not true!”

“Is it not, though?” Scar looked thoughtful, but the facade cracked when he snickered at Grian’s affronted expression; wow, the way humans changed color was so odd! Could they turn colors other than red? Mumbo was pretty sure he’d have seen it by now if they could, but still.

‘It’s complicated,’ Etho settled at that conclusion, infuriatingly vague, ‘Humans don’t quite have a season like you’re thinking, but they’ve both been worked up for a while now. Human relationships tend to reach a point of complexity that is rarer for us. Every relationship dispute I’ve known in the deep is dealt with..’ Etho paused, frequent clicks filling the silence as they thought, ‘Well, if we’re unhappy enough to fight with teeth.. No. Whatever they’re doing isn’t normal for humans either. Freaks.’

Mumbo cocked his head, just slightly, curiosity like claws longing to pull the whole story from Etho’s throat, ‘They’re fighting over someone?’

Etho snorted, ‘I guess you could say that.’ Wow. Etho was quite possibly the worst person in the world they could have had to translate between them. What did that MEAN. Etho sure wasn’t going to elaborate, their attention already back on Grian and Scar, who were still bickering, though quite a bit redder in the face than before.

“Alright, who’s next,” Etho cut in, eternally unamused, “Less uncomfortable flirting, more Mumbo.”

“That was not flirting!” Grian hissed, but Scar was unfazed, eyes bright at Mumbo’s name.

“Me first, me first! Please tell Mumbo ‘I love you!’ from Scar. Or just teach Grian how to say it, and maybe one day I’ll be able to say it too.”

“You-“ Etho snorted, “Seriously? That’s all you want to say?”

“That’s what’s come to mind right now. I mean, most of the time we run into issues it’s kinda on the spot, y’know? I didn’t really bring any human stuff for him to look at today- augh! What a complete missed opportunity! Then I’d have more to talk about! I mean, I could talk about my week like I do normally, but I don’t really feel very strongly about it. I do that anyway, regardless if Mumbo can understand me or not. He likes listening!”

“He likes listening, huh?” Etho huffed, but the way their fins were waving, Mumbo was pretty sure they were amused. Grian snorted as well, but raised his hands in defense when Scar turned to admonish the two of them, though Etho didn’t look much like they cared at all, eyes narrowed and tail twitching in a sharp focus that lasted so long, Scar looked up, confused by the silence.

“Is something wrong?”

“Uh..” Etho’s fins lowered, looking embarrassed, “No, I just.. I’m not entirely sure how to do that. It’s- the language is complicated, and a lot of it isn’t even said out loud- and big feelings- love is a big feeling. You usually communicate something like that with song, and never on the behalf of someone else- I mean, maybe, but the context would have to be there.. Everything I’m thinking of saying with words just sounds.. Well, he might get the wrong message. This is an unusual thing for a mermaid to just say to another.”

“You guys don’t tell each other you love them?”

“We do, just not the way humans do. Most of it is wordless, and most of that is acts of service. Time in each other’s company. If a mer isn’t fond of another, they kind of just swim away.”

Scar chewed on his lip, distress in his furrowed brow, “But I want him to know.”

“I’m sure he knows, Scar,” Grian tried, but despite the soft tone, this didn’t seem to make Scar feel any better.

“Can you try? Even if it’s a little odd sounding or not quite right, I don’t care, he’ll still get the idea.”

Etho didn’t look convinced, fins wavering, “Maybe now is a good time to say I’m a bit rusty.. It- it’s been a while since I’ve been home, even before I became human, and listen, I’m not looking for sympathy or anything, but I lived in a pretty remote place with pretty stony inhabitants, and they were not the most warm or loving supports-“

“Etho,” Scar crouched to Etho’s level, “Any time, any place, I will always be free if you want to talk about how your parents never taught you how to say ‘I love you’-“

“Oh god, no. Absolutely not. Also, Scar, again, that is not how the mermaid language-“

“-But it doesn’t matter to me how you say it or if it’s awkward or whatever. I don’t care if the translation is completely incomprehensible. It would just mean a lot to me to be able to tell him, that’s all. That’s all I want to say, I won’t bother you with anything else.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Etho returned dryly, but Scar looked so desperately hopeful, so intensely genuine, and despite avoiding eye contact, Etho still cracked, “Okay. Just give me a second.”

…

‘Scars,’ Etho started, and for an uncomfortably long time, that was it, though they kept shifting their tail in a gesture Mumbo didn’t really recognize.. Was Etho trying to say something, or were they just nervous? Without the mobility in the water, it would be a lot harder to speak properly, but Etho made no move to abandon their human game. Etho made a couple sounds like he was testing the language, but perked up a moment later, looking hopeful. ‘How do you say it, ‘love?’ On behalf of someone else?’

Mumbo straightened with a soft click; ah! They weren’t sure of the translation! That made sense, especially when Etho had been away for so long with no one to talk to- they were still fluent of course, just a few things slipped through the cracks- wait a minute.

‘Love?’

‘To love. A friend’s affirmation. Humans like to affirm each other often.’

Mumbo’s fins waved, light amusement, ‘They say we are friends, then. That is sweet.’ But Etho wasn’t satisfied, tail fin thumping against the grass.

‘Stronger feeling. Deeper.’ Surprise set Mumbo’s fins on end, but Etho was distressed by the reaction, waving their hands in what had to be a frantic human gesture, ‘Not that deep!’

‘You’re confusing me.’

‘Scars is your friend. They feel strongly, they wanted you to know. A human gesture. Friendship sets a distance. Scars feels closer- there is no distance, he wants you to know. It is not- not- mating. Between? No. Forget I spoke.’ Etho put their head in their hands. “I’ve ruined it.”

“What? What did you say?” Scar didn’t look any bit alarmed, though Grian behind him was glancing from Etho to Mumbo and back again, wary. Mumbo had little idea what to make of that.. Everyone except Scar seemed to be nervous, but Scar was always the confident type. Was this something nerve wracking?

“I don’t know! I don’t know. Who knows what he took from that!”

“You could ask?” Grian suggested, but Etho shook his head fiercely.

“I’m never speaking again.”

Hm. They seemed to be distressed. It was overall difficult to tell, but the general vibe made this seem like some sort of confession? Poor Etho, Mumbo wished he could have been more helpful with the translation. Even Scar looked a little down now, though, humans tended to absorb each other’s emotions quite strongly. Scar wanted.. not courtship, apparently, but not friendship either? What did that mean? Something about puzzling out Etho’s words had the logical part of Mumbo’s brain firing rapidly, but the moment that slipped, he felt his heart rate rise and his fins in turn. Did- Just the idea had him so flustered- humans! What was Mumbo going to do with them!

The three of them began to talk again on the shore, but Mumbo didn’t even try to listen, lost in the fantasy world where someone like that would even be possible. Had he misunderstood? But Scar must not have seen any issues if he intended to make a grand confession out of it, even if translation problems got in the way. Did humans have more stages between friendship and partnership than mermaids? Is that what Etho had meant by ‘between?’ Perhaps Scar meant to gauge interest, see how Mumbo reacted.. Is that why Grian was so nervous? He wanted this to go well? Oh, poor Scar! Mumbo hadn’t given any reaction at all! No wonder he was disappointed!

Actually, before Mumbo got ahead of himself here, how did he feel about this? Intrigued, surely, but for the right reasons? Scar could be abrasive, certainly, but Mumbo always got the impression his heart was in the right place, and he was always so patient, wasn’t he? He loved to swim, loved to try keeping up with Mumbo when he had no chance, loved to play- oh goodness, Scar had been bringing Mumbo gifts for as long as he could remember! Was that- had Scar always been interested in him? How could Mumbo have been so daft!

In his defense, this felt a little like an objectively odd thing to happen. Scar was always so full of energy, but Mumbo had never considered part of the reason to be infatuation! Mumbo was aware he did well for himself aesthetically, most if not all having to do with his size, but Scar had little base of comparison.. though, maybe humans didn’t care for the same attributes? They had eyes, for one; distinct features mermaids could sense without sight probably didn’t matter as much to humans. Maybe Scar liked Mumbo’s fins? They were colorful, weren’t they? Oh, Mumbo loved color.. Humans had quite good ones, though not as good as a lot of fish. But the way they wore color, oh, Mumbo would kill for some human clothes..

Perhaps he’d gotten off topic. How did he feel about Scar? Scar.. Mumbo liked Scar. He appreciated that Scar met him where he was most comfortable, spending hours trying to teach words of a foreign language to.. varying levels of success. It was damn hard, frustrating at the best of times, but that didn’t seem to bother or discourage the human.

Scar was also mildly terrifying in every way, and Mumbo was never sure if the human would survive the next week. In fairness, he didn’t know how humans survived at all, but at least Grian seemed to value his life!

Goodness, how odd it was to be considering a human of all things.. But they were sentient, weren’t they? Mumbo couldn’t really find a problem with this. Experimentally, this seemed like an incredible opportunity! Scar wasn’t looking for any firm commitments, and that was fine; Mumbo wasn’t about to trade scales over Scar anyway, especially given their distance. Oh, this was sweet, wasn’t it? Scar was very sweet..

Ah! Mumbo had so many gifts to make up for! He nearly forgot Etho altogether, just about to turn tail when the other mer spoke.

‘Red wants to apologize for the net, and for how he tried to kill you afterwards. They-‘

‘RED-‘ Mumbo’s head spun, that little tidbit setting his fins completely on end and quivering, ‘RED TRIED TO WHAT!?’

Etho stared, glanced at Grian, then back again. “Oh. That’s awkward.”

“I- What did he say-?” Grian squeaked, distress clear, though he could not be nearly as horrified as Mumbo.

“He didn’t know,” Etho said simply, and Scar drew a sharp breath.

“Oooh, yeah, that is bad. That is. Hm.”

“HE DIDN'T KNOW!? He didn’t- what did he think I-” Grian shrieked, and that really frightened Mumbo, jumping back just a bit further away. “Oh god. Oh god.” Grian stopped, turning to Mumbo stiffly, eyes alight with- an emotion, surely- ‘I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-‘

Etho cackled, the noise more human sounding than any of their other ‘laughs,’ while Scar only sat in the sand, hands over his eyes.

‘I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-‘ (and so it went for quite a while longer)

[calamitydaze]

Someone wrote a whole essay on the flag? Bruh. How many notes did it get there’s no way people are serious

like 200 i think? people are…. very serious 😬

[satoruhour]

geto reaction to you wearing only his shirt

OVERSIZED NEVER LOOKED THIS GOOD

a/n: lore. a lot of lore. i always cannot help but write backstories. ure gonna have to bear w/ me SORRY !!!! based off of this drawing that i wanted to write sum about but then i thought why not combine it w/ this prompt. i went a little insane on this mb / tagging @papersirens @crysugu @getousex @hyomagiri @slttygeto, who else r geto fuckers

wc: 2.9k

warnings: roommate!geto, soft dom!geto, mutual pining, reader steals one of geto’s shirts, geto is also a little bit of a pervert, mentions of panty sniffing but geto doesn’t do it, m! and f! masturbation, fingering, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, slight nipple play, spitting (on ur pussy), finger sucking, p -> v sex, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

geto was a sweet roommate.

he’s always topping up on supplies when you needed things, pushing away your hand whenever you wanted to pay. where he got all his money, you weren’t even sure. geto cleaned the house, he cooked dinner, hell, it was like you two were married at this point. even gojo had asked if he would get together with someone who wasn’t you (and of course, in classic gojo way, he was skilled in asking it in a roundabout way), geto’s firm and abrupt “no” was enough to make gojo grin from ear to ear.

even he wasn’t sure when it all started — you were always friends with the three of them, gojo and shoko and himself, participating in their antics and getting in trouble in high school. there was hardly any dull times between the four, looking at you through the lens of a friend. but when those lens started to turn blurry and black, seeing you in a new light of tighter outfits and a sweet smile that looked like it contained something hidden, suguru genuinely hoped it would all go away.

it’s not like he thought he was unattractive, but you wouldn’t go for a guy like him, someone hidden behind gojo’s bright personality or shoko’s satirical, cool demeanour. he was oh so oblivious, however, turning an unintentional blind eye when you’re hanging with gojo for the day but only because you wanted to know what birthday present would be best for him, or having a movie night with shoko only to disregard cher horowitz on the television just to ask if geto would like your new nails and hair.

the two of you were so dense when either of you were hanging with them, going on for so long even after taking a gap year for shoko’s overseas med school attachment. they assumed the two of you would’ve done something then, but it was stagnant, dry, that gojo almost wants to take matters into his own hands; so when you’re begging geto if you could room with him, since he lived near the university you were all attending together,

“suguru, pleasee— i wouldn’t wanna travel for hours on end just for like a two hour lecture.”

shoko smiles, gojo laughs, slinging an arm around you, “help your poor friend out, suguru.”

gojo torments him to no end. he doesn’t regret it one bit when your arms are thrown around his neck in a bear hug in thanks, feeling himself get hard just from the way your breasts press against his chest.

“yeah,” it’s said breathily, softly, “it’s no problem.”

suguru thanked god you hadn’t wanted to move in that very same day, cause all that could be heard throughout the small apartment was him pumping his cock to a polaroid picture of you, calling out your name softly as he came all over the photo of your bright smile. he didn’t need the fan that night, the guilt was enough to burn him alive. and after, he acted like nothing happened, except the many, many times he’d think of taking you on every surface of the house, suffering silently for an entire year as the two of you fell into routine day by day.

today might change, however, when geto hangs the last piece of clothing, something that was hardly a difficult task, but it proved to be the hardest thing to date when he’d spot the bras and underwear lying at the bottom of the basket each time he prepared to do laundry. geto wills himself to wash, hang it, and get out but he cannot tear his eyes away from the unmistakable dark spot at the centre of your panties before it’s thrown in, taunting him to just pick it up to breathe in your scent, to do something to defile it, to let his desires take over. but he wasn’t gojo, no, he’d wait all the time in the world for the right time, even if it was at the expense of a throbbing cock and flushed cheeks.

“(y/n), ’m going to the store, you want…” his voice trails off when the drawer before him shows only one clean shirt left, sighing when his favourite shirt has gone missing, again. he knows it simply by the missing tag on the top, cut off terribly by your hands on a drunk movie night. he was thankful you missed his skin by an inch, but he cherishes that shirt and night dearly. geto simply brushes off the mishap, grabbing a sweatshirt instead.

there’s a rap on your door that quells all movement from your side, fabric clutched tightly between your fingers that it hurt just a little.

“(y/n)? love? you okay?”

“y— yeah, i’m fine sugu. what did you say earlier?”

“i’m going to the store. it’s grocery day so i’ll be there for a while — need to stock the fridge up for the week. you want anything?”

geto wishes so desperately to see your face now, asking if you could go and holding a reusable bag by your side, but strangely you don’t even make a move to open the door.

“no it’s fine, and okay! i’m— uh, busy with something,” you look towards the door and back to the article of clothing in your hand, “so i’m sorry i can’t help today.”

geto’s disappointment is brief, but he recovers as soon as he hears your apology, in that sweet, honeyed voice you love to use on him, as oblivious as you were of its effect.

“’s fine, see you later!” there’s a weird and panicky bout of feeling geto gets, but he’s satisfied with the hum you sound through the door. and once the door clicks behind him, you’re unlocking your own door softly, ensuring your surroundings are safe.

geto wasn’t the only one. between your fingers were his favourite shirt, straight from the dirty laundry of last week’s load; it’s been a reoccuring thing these few weeks after realising you maybe want geto to fuck you silly. you’re sneaking around undetected with it, holding it to your nose, breathing in his natural musk. it was the one shirt you liked on him — always put on when with you — it’s like your secret little joke from that night. and it was so sinful, the way your breath hitches from just his scent, the way your panties pool with arousal.

what would it be like to actually wear it?

the thought crosses your mind and leaves just as fast, heart pounding in your chest when you realise you’ve never tried that before.

peeling off your top, you slip it on carefully, swallowing from how much larger he is than you. the sleeves extend past your elbows by a little, so much cloth on you that you’re a little lightheaded by the possibility of being geto’s, belonging to geto.

“oh god…” you sigh, feeling your pussy throb at the thought, and your hands are shy when they creep in between your thighs. they rub at your clit gently, imagining geto was doing the work instead. he’d be so gentle with his hands, cupping your thighs, spreading your legs.

you’re whining when your fingers find your way into your cunt, nose filled with the scent of geto and head filling with the repeated runnings of his tongue on you, his cock in you, his whole person devoted to you. it’s cute how you don’t know that’s already the case. your fingers are lacklustre as you pump them in and out while your other hand is busy with your clit and you look like a goddess: spread out on your bed in nothing but your roommate’s shirt, a soft, slow melody playing from your phone.

you’re so entranced by the sensations you don’t hear the front door opening and the rustle of the plastic bags (he forgot the reusable bags) containing your groceries, distracted by the phone call he’s having with gojo who teases him through the line. his best friend says stupid crap like she’s definitely into you, too. what her panties smell like? have you guys fucked yet?

the last two was enough for geto to whisper a soft satoru!, clearly displeased with the way he was asking about you, about you both that he only rolls his eyes, muttering an annoyed “i’m hanging up, you pervert. i’ll talk to you later—”

setting down the bags, he frowns again upon seeing the closed door, although not as closed you thought you left it.

“suguru— f-fuck, right there—” geto chokes on his saliva at the moans coming from behind the door, careful not to step on the wrong floorboard below him as he lines up with your room door — a terrifying feat rewarded by your needy whines begging for him. he can hear the wetness of his roommate’s cunt, and he wants to take a peak so bad; so he does just that and stiflies a groan at the sight.

your hair is splayed out all around you, pussy facing the entrance of the door just perfectly and his shirt draped over your body. it sends him into a frenzy, head reeling at seeing his shirt so oversized and so perfect over your body that he swears he cums a little at the display. your cute face scrunched up in pure pleasure, your toes curling around the bedsheets he changed for you.

oh, shit.

and geto panics when your head shoots up, eyes meeting his and your hands halting.

fuck, did i say that out loud?

you’re speechless although your reflexes cause you to close your legs immediately, scooting up the bed like you’ve just got cornered by a predator. it was similar — geto with his big, brooding self, moving slowly into the room with both hands up and a dazed look behind his eyes, you, exposed in the eyes of a hungry man who’s craved you for so many months. you like it.

“you’re— you’re wearing my shirt,” geto gulps, causing you to let out a nervous laugh.

“yea— yeah…”

geto thinks that maybe this is it. this was the moment he’s been holding back on for so long, and so he crosses that boundary into your space, stopping right at the footboard of the bed. you follow suit, going onto your hands and knees and crawling to him that he tilts his head back. everything you do drives him crazy.

suguru’s words is heavy, “you think you’re cute, hm? stealing my shirt and then moaning out my name and fingering your pussy like that…”

your breath shakes, ascending to your knees so you’d reach his height, but not quite. he tugs you closer to him.

“yeah.” it’s so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it, “been wanting you for a long time.”

your roommate hums, lips hovering over yours just by an inch. you’d probably pass out if not for your racing heart and pulsating core.

“yeah?”

you’re finished with words, resorting only to a shy nod before geto crashes his lips onto yours, wrapping the other arm around you as yours go around his neck. it’s messy, filled with drool, devouring you on the spot for teasing him for so long, mouths moving in sync with each other. there’s a soft moan that escapes your mouth when you feel him manhandle you with ease, picking you off the bed to set you down on your back gently.

“c’mon, let’s see the mess you made,” you mewl at the words but your legs are stubborn, still in disbelief at the way suguru treats you, but you let him pry your legs apart after some gentle praises. you stifle a smile when you see how geto exhales at how beautiful your pussy is, leaking from your hole while your puffy clit is begging to be touched.

“oh, she’s so fuckin’ pretty…” your roommate mumbles, intoxicated on your scent as he bends down, giving your cunt one last loving look before he looks to you with a small grin. it’s clear he cannot wait, but he pauses for the words he wants to hear.

“wan’ you to eat me out, sugu,” you’re mumbling and suguru thinks it’s so cute, only responding by giving you a peck on your inner thigh, a soft yeah? before he goes down on you.

geto’s tongue on you is slow and cautious, drawing languid circles around your clit as he plays with your thighs, moaning softly into your core.

“s’damn sweet,” you can feel the stretch of a smile before he resumes, drawing you in slowly with each lick, each suck. geto doesn’t let your arousal go to waste, using a finger to scoop up your juices before he rubs the area around your hole and then the first push into your pussy makes you let out a loud, wanton moan.

“oh— your fingers, sugu, they’re—” they’re so much thicker and longer, everything that you couldn’t feel before now feels too much and yet your cunt gives him his answer by clenching around his longer finger.

“better than yours?” he asks with a lopsided smile.

you huff in indignance — not your fault you had shorter fingers, “yeah.”

“i’ll make full use of ’em, baby,” geto gasps softly when he pushes his finger right to the hilt, obsessed with the way your hand closes around his wrist. “too much?”

you shake your head, “n-no, just— feels too good.”

your roommate laughs softly, “princess is just too sensitive.”

he’s tempted to chuckle again when he sees how the pet names affect you, but soon he’s adding a second finger and pushes in, moving at a slow speed. and then when he adds his mouth into the mix, you’re begging for him to hurry; his eyes flutter close, getting lost in everything that you dish out.

geto’s pace is routine like his life, but it’s not any less pleasurable as he curls his fingers upwards, stretching you out and hitting your spot repeatedly. he continually flicks his tongue and sucks and slurps, tasting your essence once and needing a second, third, fourth, umpteenth taste, bringing out the most delicious moans to fall from your lips. it’s like hearing aphrodite sing, and yet you cross her by miles both in beauty and voice. surely, he shouldn’t mention that out loud, but eros can’t possibly help the arrow puncturing his heart, and looking at his psyche now, he thinks you look absolutely flawless.

“f-feel so good, mmh— so deep, suguru—!” his eyes snap open to look at you with hooded lids, sending you a cheeky wink before he starts to suck on your bundle of nerves, keeping his mouth latched around it as his fingers speed up. the noises of your cunt sucking him in paired with your whines just sound so good, and the scent of his shirt is dizzying, pulling it higher and higher till it pools around your chest. you watch as geto pulls away for a second, gathering saliva in his throat before he spits on your pussy, and the action is so lewd your jaw drops and your hips start to hump against him. 

“ya like that? filthy girl,” geto smiles, rubbing his thumb into your clit and there’s that distinctive build-up in your stomach, coiling and burning until lays his tongue flat onto your cunt, pressing it deep along with the fingers that curl up in your pussy.

“su—” you don’t even have time to tell him, cumming all over his fingers and soaking the sheets, flustered at the in-awe look geto has on his face at how the shirt had ridden up, at how your hands cup your tits and play with your nipples, at how your cunt gushes so sweetly for him. he continues to pump his fingers to let you ride out your orgasm, relishing in the whine you let out when he removes his fingers.

“patience, sweetheart,” geto moves up to reach you, fingers waiting inches away from your lips. you’re taking his fingers into your mouth, keeping eye contact as you wrap your tongue around them and sucking your cum off of him, swearing lowly when you grab his wrist and shove them deeper. “but then again, we’ve been dancing around each other for too long, now.”

you smile at his allusion to the many times that the what-ifs could’ve come true, and yet now you’re tangled up like this in his shirt.

once geto’s underwear comes off, you’re gaping at the cock that he pumps, clearly looking intimidating enough that geto has a hand to your knee and kisses it gently. “we’ll make it fit, alright?”

you nod a little timidly, taking his hand off and twining your fingers, “yeah, i trust you to take care of me.” you make a quick move to remove his shirt but he stops you, saying something embarrassing about wanting to see how cute and small you look in his shirt. you’re scoffing and pushing at him later, you’re just too tall.

he takes care of you perfectly fine — when geto fully sheathes himself in you, he can only focus on your gummy walls that wrap around him fully, his eyes are rolling to the back of his head and you’re grasping at his hands that grab your hips so hard. your roommate fucks you so well, your body limp and your pussy begging to milk him dry that it spills out so much — geto groans into your neck with reddened cheeks at that later.

you’re receiving a noise warning the very next day, alongside a QR code that takes you to a link for soundproof foam, and all you can do is laugh at each other. like routine, geto is already gathering the ingredients for an apology cake, beside him right in that little kitchen in another shirt of his that starts to smell more and more like you—

as his roommate and maybe now, something more.

part two ♡

[calumfmu]

The King's Reign

King Steve, the stupid nickname you had heard your entire life. The rumors, the huge ego to match. It was everything that made you hate him, especially when your best friend wouldn't shut up about him. Robin was forcing you to be friends with him, but it wouldn't stop the passion you had dedicated to wanting nothing to do with him.

Steve Harrington x reader, enemies to lovers edition, 7.7k+ words

cw: smut, unprotected sex, oral, Steve talking you through it (!!), fingering, angst, tension, 18+, mdni

You had heard rumors of ‘King Steve’ your entire life. Being in a small town like Hawkins allowed every rumor—big or small, to be spread like wild fire. Even when it came to talking about Steve Harrington’s dick. No matter what you did, nothing could allow you to escape the whispers throughout the town.

When Robin had befriended the man of conversation, you were annoyed, to say the least. You could barely escape him when you were trying not to listen to the gossip mill, but it was even harder when your best friend wouldn’t shut up about the guy.

You chewed on a fry, eyes focused behind your friend as you gazed at a group of girls from your school across the way. They were walking into a Tammy’s, hair higher than ever and short shorts hiked up on their long legs. You stared at them, wondering if they had a run around with the guy.

Robin was droning on about something Steve had done today at work, involving a bunch of kids who seemed too young for him.

A fry hit the side of your head, knocking your focus into her instead of the girls across the mall.

“Yn!” Robin sighed, rolling her eyes at you. “You’re not even listening to me.”

“And you would be incorrect,” you responded, smoothing the grease off of your face from where it hit. You grimaced, annoyed at her antics. “You said something about Steve, some kid named Justin, and a stupid handshake or something.”

Robin pressed her lips in a straight line, rolling her eyes once more. They might roll out of her head at this point, you thought.

“His name is Dustin, and the handshake wasn’t stupid, it was cute,” she huffed, throwing her hands in the air. She pushed her food tray away from her, burger half eaten and fries lay abandon across the plastic.

You gasped, leaning across the table and you crossed your arms over your chest. “Woah, Rob.”

She furrowed her brow, wondering what you were getting at.

“I had no idea you swung that way, new development I see.” You wiggled your eyebrows at her, wanting to see how far her patience went. “I just have to know—is it as big as everyone says it is?”

You laughed and leaned back in your chair, blocking your face with your arms as Robin threw a handful of fries at you. Her patience ran out, clearly.

“Yn, can you please be serious for once?” The brunette whined, pouting out her bottom lip as she looked at you. Her infamous begging face. “I’m just telling you because I want you to be friends with him. I can’t be a child of divorce between you. It’s so emotionally draining.”

You giggled, eyeing the way her uniform made her look ridiculous as she begged you. It was rumpled in all the wrong places, red tie hanging loosely at her neck. It made her look like she was perpetually going to a Halloween party.

“How do you think I feel being an actual child of divorce?”

She gaped at you, mouth hanging open as she was at a loss of words. Sputtering, she found the words to say, “Fuck, okay my bad. You know what I meant!”

“I know, Rob, Im just fucking with you,” you laughed, shaking your head as she flushed in the face. She genuinely felt bad, you could tell.

Your parents had recently divorced, next month marking the full year since their split. Tommy and his stupid friends had made it their entire personality and asked you about it ever since the news hit the town. What’s wrong with Mommy and Daddy, they would ask. Daddy found out Mommy slept with the entire town?

You grimaced, thinking about the memories. None of the rumors were true, but that didn’t falter the town people into thinking that you all should be walking around with a Scarlet Letter on your chest.

Shaking your head, you diverted the subject as you hand came to rest of the table. “Me and Steve have never been friends, so you can’t be a child of divorce, Rob. And also, I don’t want to be friends with him.”

Robin stretched her arms across the table, grasping your hand in the two of hers. “Yn, please. I know we both used to hate him-”

“Still do.”

“-but I really think you’ll like him,” she continued, not batting an eyelash at your interruption. “He’s not that same Steve-”

“King Steve.”

“-that everyone talks about. Those rumors are just rumors, I mean, you know how it goes.” She paused when you looked away from her, squinting as you stared unfocused in the distance. You took a deep breath, clearing your throat in discomfort as you turned to look back at her. “Please, Yn?”

You chose silence in this moment, blinking at her with a serious expression on your face as she pouted at you. Her blue eyes were practically watering at this point, long lashes batting rapidly at you.

“Please, Yn.”

Her pleads continued, grip squeezing into your hand as a deadpan expression was being held on your face. This went on for another two minutes (you counted) as she begged you, leaning down every 15 seconds or so to kiss at your hand.

“Okay! Okay, fine, Rob!” You gave in, laughing as she decided to place kisses all over every inch of your hand. She cheered, throwing her hands in celebration before shaking them clasped at the sides of her head, as if thanking an audience for winning an award.

“I literally love you so much, Yn,” she beamed at you, lips stretched thin as she exposed all of her teeth to you. You don’t think she’s smiled this big, ever. “So, tonight, I was thinkin-”

“Tonight?!” Your eyes opened wide, heart beating in your chest as you realized how soon this interaction was going to be. You thought you at least had more than a few hours.

“Oh,” she smirked at you, tilting her head to the side. “Did I not mention that it was tonight?”

Sighing, you trailed a hand down your face, pulling down your features as she shared the details to come. You loved your friend, you really did. She was your best friend, but Christ was she a lot sometimes.

Awkward wasn’t the word to describe the tension in the room. The only sound you could hear was Robin’s nails clacking against the sound of her glass, and Steve’s occasional cough.

You were curled into the side of the couch, Steve on the other, Robin in between the two of you. Steve was looking every which way except the two of you, hand running through his hair as he chewed on his bottom lip. Robin glanced between the two of you, taking sips of her watered down sloppy cocktail in her hand. She kept moving to say something, mouth opening and closing around empty words.

You with your back against the arm of the couch, feet tucked into you as you stared down Steve. You were curious, if they were to ask you. You took in his features, his long hair, giant brown eyes, and navy—is that fucking cashmere?—sweater across his shoulders.

You were observing why him and Robin were friends, why this man had such a hold on your friend. He was attractive, you could admit, boyish features drawing you in, in a way you would never admit in a thousand years. He seemed nervous in this moment, something you hadn’t expected him to be. Cocky, arrogant, rude, brash, anything but this.

But he was still King Steve. The man you had heard about since you went to elementary school together. You were forced to listen to stories of Steve kissing girls underneath the jungle gym evolved to him fucking them in the back of his BMW at the drive-in. It was repulsive.

Robin cleared her throat, drawing your attention away from Steve as his into her. She offered a small smile, awkwardly tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“So… guys,” she phrased it like a question, voice dragging up on the end of the word. “How about actual conversation?”

“Sure.”

“No.”

The two of you having contradictory answers caused your eyes to be pulled into each other. Your face was unmoving as Steve raised his eyebrows at you, confused.

“I’d rather sit in silence,” you muttered, breaking eye contact with him as you leaned your head into your hand. Staring at him while he was focused on something else was one thing, but holding eye contact made you crumble, a slight blush crossing your features. You focused on Robin, shaking your head as she gave you a pleading look.

The blush on your face didn’t go unnoticed by Steve, a suggestive quirk of his eyebrow coming up to cross his face. It was like a switch flipped, the cockiness that surrounded the King Steve rumors coming into play.

“I think that’s a great idea, Rob,” he muttered, voice low as he stared into you. You turned your face towards the coffee table, examining the items abandon on the glass. Your eye twitched at the nickname of your best friend you so often used. You studied the nearly full bottle of vodka surrounded by shot glasses, a deck of cards, and a joint tucked into a clear baggie.

Robin had been optimistic at the night having a positive turn of events.

“I’ll start,” Steve said, turning his entire body so he was facing you. Your bodies mirrored each other, Robin sitting awkwardly in the middle as her eyes flitted between the two of you. “So, Yn… How come I’ve been friends with Robin this long, and have never had the honor of meeting you?”

“Wish I could say the same,” you rolled your eyes, leaning your head on your hand. Your heart was beating heavy behind your chest as you watched this man practically morph into a completely different person.

“Yn…” Robin’s hand came to rest on your knee, squeezing as her voice was a warning to you. Be on your best behavior, you could hear her thoughts.

“Hmm,” he answered, you felt his eyes brushing over your figure. You felt insecure in that moment, focusing on the bottle of vodka as you debated the quickest way to black out in that moment. “I’m just saying, Yn. I’ve heard about you for so long, yet I think this is the first time I’ve even seen you.”

You cut your eyes suddenly to him, your own gaze darkening as his words echoed through the room. You weren’t going to crumble (this time), your mind intent on showing him you weren’t intimidated by him.

At the eye contact, his smirk widened even further. There was a glint of something in his eye, similar to the stories you had heard of the Harrington Charm, or so it was called.

“Funny enough, I’ve heard a lot about you too, Steve,” you replied, huffing as his name left your mouth. “This town can’t stop talking about you. King Steve and how you’re so irresistible.”

The last word in your mouth dripped with venom, squinting your eyes at the suggestive look on his face.

Silence held the next few moments, Robin looking at the ceiling as she muttered words under her breath. It sounded something like a prayer.

“Would you like to find out, Yn?” His voice was low as his eyes bored into you, teeth dragging across his bottom lip as your name escaped his lips. Hair hung into his eyes, head tilted down slightly as he leaned forward an inch. Your breath hitched at the small movement, words at a loss.

Robin shot up from the couch suddenly, arms thrown into the air as she turned around to face the two of you. She shook her shoulders, grimacing at the interaction. “Okay!”

Steve slowly dragged his eyes away from you, smirk disappearing as he glanced up at the brunette. Just like that, King Steve was gone. He settled back into the arm of the couch as his eyebrows were raised to his hairline, lips parted as he stared at your best friend.

“Enough of whatever that was,” Robin tried to blink away the memory, hands resting at her hips. She turned to look at the coffee table behind her, leaning over to grab the abandoned bottle of vodka and the deck of cards. Grimace still present amongst her features, she held them up. “Drinking game, anyone?”

The night continued among the three of you, shots being poured as matching face cards were being thrown onto the table. You were pretty drunk at this point, vision blurring as you leaned into your friend. She was resting her head on top of yours, laughing at something Steve was doing.

He had stuck a card to his forehead, trying to guess which one it was. His eyes were glazed over, slightly hooded with intoxication as him and Robin bickered back and forth about the number of cards there was in deck.

He was losing the debate, set on why Robin was wrong. You had a dopey smile on your face, enjoying the interaction between the two of them. You could see why they got along, energies so different, yet so similar.

“Harrington, you’re so wrong,” Robin laughed, shaking her head as she ripped the card off of his face. A small red mark was left behind, Steve groaning as he rubbed it.

She stood up from the floor, stretching her arms out as she walked away from where you all were surrounding the coffee table.

“I’m starving, Steve, come with me,” she demanded, holding a hand out to help the man up as he complained.

“What about me?” You asked, frowning as you watched him begin to trail her into the kitchen. Your question went unanswered, the two disappearing around the corner.

You sighed to yourself, laying out your body on the floor as the room began to spin in circles. Eyes closing, you held your breath, praying you sober up a little before the end of the night comes upon you.

The look on Steve’s face flashed behind the darkness of your eyes, the sound of your name in his voice echoed in your ears. You felt a small smile creeping on you, only for you to open your eyes suddenly, viscerally shaking the memory out of your mind.

What the fuck, Yn? You questioned yourself, blinking as you looked around the room. Glancing at a clock across the room, you noticed it was half past 1 a.m., way later than you realized. Fuck, my parents are going to kill me.

You glanced towards the direction of the kitchen, head tilting back against the carpet. Robin and Steve’s voices were low, but urgent, causing you to sit up on your elbows.

You strained your ears, trying to focus in on her words.

“-don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Steve!”

“Whaaat?”

Their voices were heavy with the liquor, almost sounding drowsy.

“Stop trying to fuck my friends, Steve. I’m serious.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, breath getting caught in your chest as you heard Steve laugh loudly at her words.

“Shhh!” You heard a thud, presumably the sound of her hand hitting him, based on the “Ow! What the hell!” that followed.

“Steve…”

Silence followed the conversation, your ears straining to see if the conversation continued, only for you to be met with the sound of footsteps coming your way. You panicked, moving to lay back down on the carpet. You crossed your hands over your chest, breathing fast as you tried to pretend like you hadn’t eavesdropped that entire thing.

Glancing up, you saw Steve swaying over you, hand on his hips as he smiled down at you. The overhead light shone over him, creating a halo around his perfectly styled hair.

You allowed yourself to stare for only a second before rolling your eyes.

“You’re blocking my light, Harrington,” you muttered, turning your head in the opposite direction.

He chuckled, moving so he sat next to you. He sat with his legs pulled close to him, being held together with his arms as they were clasped together.

“Sorry, didn’t realize you were getting a tan,” he was sarcastic in his words, light look on his face. He stared down at you, eyes grazing over your stretched out limbs.

“Why don’t you like me, Yn?” He asked, teeth pulling at the skin on his lip.

You closed your eyes, sighing as he started up that shit again. Did you not just have that conversation earlier that night?

“I quite like you,” his voice was a whisper now, hand coming out to dance at the edge of your own sweater. You pulled your arm away from him, tucking your elbow into your side. “You’re good for Robin.”

Questioning where Robin was, you glanced in the direction of the kitchen. Coming out was muffled sounds of her moving around the refrigerator, glasses clinging into one another. She was muttering to herself, something about pickles dipped in Greek yogurt.

“I think you’d be good for me, too.” The low tone of his voice had you squeezing your legs together, watching as his eyes briefly looked down at the movement. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling the strands back into place.

“Leave me alone, Steve.” You tried to even your voice out as much as possible.

“I know you’re curious,” Steve cocked his head to the side, eyes trailing over your face. “About King Steve and his reign.”

You hacked a laugh, surprised at the boldness he had in this moment. The man’s ego was huge, even if he had the looks to back it.

“His reign? Is that what you want to call it?” Before you knew it, a small smirk of your own toyed at your lips.

“Oh, we can call it whatever you want,” the smile dropped from his lips as that darkened look took over his eyes once more. The amber glow of his irises turned nearly black, eyes narrowing as he stared into yours.

“The only thing I’m curious about,” you felt his fingers brush your clothes ribcage, ignoring the sensation, “is how there’s not a single bad thing to be said about this King Steve.”

His eyes slowly dragged over you, starting at your eyes to your lips to your chest and lingering at the spot between your thighs before returning to meet your gaze. He sucked in his bottom lip, gaze glancing towards the kitchen door as Robin began to make her way out, balancing about seven things between her arms.

She giggled, paying attention to the shaking of the items as she tried to not spill anything.

Steve’s voice dropped to a low whisper, barely audible, “Don’t you know that curiosity killed the cat?”

You gulped, eyes on him as he switched it off, getting up to help Robin as she struggled with the items. You are so fucked.

Ever since that night between the three of you, you had been tagging along with Robin and her newfound friend more. The facade had been dropped, Steve no longer being flirtatious with you as you tried your hardest to ignore him.

He began to treat you the same as Robin, making stupid jokes towards you and letting his nerdy side come out during the interactions. Your hard exterior slightly crumbled away, defenses lowering as you realized that Robin may have been right about him. They weren’t completely gone, just lowered just enough to get to know him.

He wasn’t as much as an asshole as you imagined, he spent most of nights with a bunch of kids anyways. It was surprising, you had muttered some joke about the kids being “a little too young for you, Harrington?” only to earn his disapproval back. It was the most serious he had been since you met him, eyes dropping to the floor as he shook his head. You felt bad, seeing how defensive he had been over these kids he had practically adopted.

After that interaction, you dropped the King Steve stuff, seeing that your perception of him had been completely wrong. You would love to say that a beautiful friendship was blossoming between the two of you, but it was the opposite of that. You still hated him.

Every time you looked at him, you were reminded of his past, his stupid friend group that he used to hang with. Tommy had made the past few years of your life a living hell, torments of your parents separation and alleged affairs circling in the depths of your mind.

You watched him as he sat on the back porch of his house, cigarette hanging between his fingers as he reclined in the lawn chair over looking the pool. Robin sat in the chair next to him, turning the dial of the stereo as she tried to find a station with “goddamn decent music.”

The night sky hung heavy over you, your feet dipped into the pool as you watched the two from your perch on the side of the pool.

Smoke circled around him, lacing in and out of his hair as he looked in the night sky. A single light from the sliding glass door illuminated the back yard. His hair was annoying, perfectly framing his features as he blinked into the stars of the night.

As you took in the view of him and the rest of his backyard, rolling your eyes at the wealth that stood around you. Typical Harrington and his perfect home.

“Okay, fuck this,” Robin sighed, huffing as she shut off the stereo. She rose from the lawn chair, slipping on her shoes that lay beside it. “I’m over this, I’m going to bed.”

She began walking towards the sliding door, ruffling Steve’s hair as she past him. You protested, kicking your foot in the water.

“You’re going home?” You asked, watching as she paused to speak to you.

“Gonna sleep in Steve’s parents room, they’re not home,” she shrugged, yawning as she stretched her arms over her head.

“Never home,” Steve muttered with a shake of his head, thinking it was under his breath as he took a drag of his cigarette. You glanced at him, brow crinkling slightly at his comment.

“Just come up whenever you’re tired, Yn.” Robin turned, muttering a “g’night” as she made her way into the house, sliding the door behind her.

You looked down at your feet, watching the way the water circled at your ankles. Sounds of water swirling and crickets chirping in the stickiness of the night were filling your senses. You almost forgot Harrington was there, the sound of his cigarette burning out in the water interrupting your thoughts.

You looked at him from where he flicked it in the water. He stared at the way the burned bud floated in the water, moving in small circles as it soaked up the water around it. He seemed to be in a trance, eyes unfocused as they squinted around his thoughts.

You turned your eyes towards your feet again, ignoring him. You didn’t care. He was still that same Steve you despised so much.

“You want to sit here?” Steve asked, pulling you from thoughts once more. “Waters gotta be cold.”

“Absolutely not.” You were stubborn, squaring in your shoulders as your defenses picked up. You heard him huff, breath long as he exhaled.

“Why the fuck are you so rude?” He snapped, your head quickly swiveling to look at him. He shook his head as his hand rested at his bent knee, he continued to stare into the water. The half empty cigarette box was being turned over and over in his grasp.

“Easy for you to say, Harrington,” you shot back, anger seething through you as you got out of the pool. Water dripped around your feet as you grabbed your shoes next to you. You began to storm past him, muttering curses at him. “Good fucking night, asshole.”

You stopped at his chair, glaring down at him as he looked at you, eyes shifting up in your direction as his head stayed centered. Warmth flashed over you as you imagined he looked just like The Fallen Angel in this moment, eyes rimmed red as his gaze cut into you.

You ignored the thought, leaning over him as you seethed, “I don’t know what you think this is, Harrington, but we are not friends. We'll never be friends. You made my life a living hell, and I will resent you for that for the rest of my life. These rumors painting you in good light makes me loath you even more.”

Steve scoffed at your words, getting up so he stood in front of you. You bit your tongue as he towered over you, breath heavy as he searched your face, your harsh words lingering in the air.

“I didn’t do anything to you,” he whispered, voice low as your heart thundered. You swore he could hear it as he glanced down your body. "I've been nothing but nice to you."

“Liar.” You shook your head, taking a step back as he took one in your direction.

“Okay,” he nodded his head, lips forming a frown. His hand reached up to pull at his hair, rolling his eyes as they closed with a sigh. He opened them, hand moving to rest at his hip. “Tell me then, what did I do that was so bad for you, Yn.”

“You know.”

He shook his head, not taking that answer. He remained silence.

“You know,” your voice cracked, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

He shook his head again, tilting his head as he examined you. His own eyes blinked rapidly, jumping back and forth between the two of yours.

You sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. All of the anger dissipated, sorrow filling your chest instead.

“You let Tommy torment me, you let him say what he did about me and all of his stupid friends,” your voice was fragile, volume moving up and down as your words came out. “You might not have said anything, but that’s the worst part, Steve. You were a bystander during the worst times of my life, and you didn’t. Do. Anything.”

Your finger punched at his chest with every word, emphasizing your point. Steve looked down at the assault of the digit, grabbing it between his fingers at the last word.

His touch burned your skin, a feeling that felt so wrong, but so right at the same time.

“You’re absolutely right,” Steve agreed with you, fingers holding your hand tightly. “I was—I was terrible. I was a jerk, a coward, if you will.”

Your eyes looked up into his at his words, hearing him out.

“I’m not friends with him anymore. I met Nancy all that time ago, and things changed for me,” he continued, thumb rubbing circles over the skin. Your heartbeat quickened, glancing down at his movement. “I met Robin, and things only got better. That perception you have of me is so different. So, so different than me now.”

He left go of your hand, watching as it dropped to your side. Steve was only inches away from you, the left over tobacco scent mixing with the detergent of his clothes.

A single tear streamed down your face, your hand shooting up to wipe it away. His gaze softened, shaking his head at you.

“It appears King Steve has dropped his crown,” he muttered, earning a small laugh out of you. You dropped your head, stepping back as a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.

Steve’s laugh followed your own, chuckling low as yours picked up. The two of you stood there laughing at each other, an ache in your side forming as you realized the ridiculous situation you were in.

You both quieted down, staring at each other as the moonlight filled the sky above you. The buzzing of the porch light filled the air.

Steve’s eyes were huge in this lighting, his long lashes curled up towards his brows. The small pout of his lips were wet from his tongue darting out, licking at the skin. Moles dotted his skin, cheeks full as joy crossed his features.

You could see him in this light, for who he truly was. That asshole image may have lingered in the back of your mind, but you could see that he was truthful in his speech.

“I may miss him, you know,” you said, looking at your feet as the words came out. “King Steve.”

You glanced up at him, crossing your arms over your chest. His eyes were dark again, mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Oh?” You couldn’t pull the emotion off of his face, a mask placed over it.

You nodded, continuing, “I never got to know him the way most people did.”

Smirking at your words, you turned towards the house and walked up towards the sliding glass door. You didn’t bother looking back at him, opening up the glass as you stepped through muttering a goodnight as you entered the house.

It was dark in there, the only light illuminating was the one hanging over the staircase. The image of the look on Steve’s face burned in your mind, how his dark eyes reflected the moonlight. As you trekked up the stairs on your way to meet Robin, you couldn’t help but think that you took things too far at the end. You’ve hated him all this time, why all of a sudden did you want to mess with his head about the idea of King Steve ?

Reaching the end of the hall, your hand reached for the doorknob, stopping in its place as you heard footsteps running up the stairs, fast in their pace.

Your brow furrowed, turning towards that direction as you watch Steve ascend the stairs, turning the corner to the hall in your direction. He was slightly out of breath, colored in the cheeks.

“You want to?” He blurted out, fast paced with his words. You were confused.

“Huh?”

He was crossing the distance to you, eyes determined on yours. Your hand was still placed on the doorknob, grip loose.

“Harrington, what are you talking ab-”

Your words were cut off as Steve closed the distance, crashing his mouth into yours. His hands came up to rest on the sides of your face as your eyes shot open in surprise at the intrusion. Your hand left the doorknob, resting at his chest to push him away.

“What the hell was that,” you exclaimed, finger digging in his chest. Smiling at you, his hands still present on your cheeks as he tugged at his bottom lip.

He made a shushing motion with his lips, stepping closer to place his mouth on yours again. You didn’t protest, fluttering your eyes shut as his mouth began to move into yours, molding into the perfect shape.

His mouth was soft, tongue darting out to lick between your lips, an urgency as you were pulled into him. One of his hands left your face, finding your waist to press his torso into yours. Huffing, the firmness of his body against yours left you breathless as you leaned up into the kiss.

He pulled away, placing two quick pecks to yours before placing a step back. The absence of his hands on your body left a chill throughout your spine. Eyes glazed over, you blinked at him, tongue running over the feeling of him on your lips.

Steve was smug, hands on his hips as he smiled at you. Your mouth flapped open and close, not finding the words to say to him in that moment. You should be repulsed at him, that was your first thought, but you couldn’t be bothered.

“I-I don’t know what to say.” Your fingers came to brush at your mouth, looking anywhere but him. It was the first time you had been shy around him. You were starting to understand the Harrington Effect.

“You don’t need to,” he rushed, crossing the distance to you one last time to crash his mouth into yours.

He pulled you into him simultaneously pushing you into the wall next to the doors of his parents room. Your body hit it with a full yet loud thud, not caring about waking Robin in the moment.

Your mouth moved in sync with Steve’s, hands coming up to mess up its perfect style and leg curling up to rest at his upper thigh. He moaned into your mouth as his hands gripped your ass, pulling your hips into his.

This is wrong, you found yourself thinking as Steve pulled away to mouth at your neck. He sucked bruises into the delicate skin, fingers digging into your flesh. Your hands roamed free, wildly pulling at his belt his teeth grazed your earlobe.

His bulge ground into the fabric of your jean shorts, leaving you breathless as you fumbled with his buckle.

“S-Steve,” you panted into his hair, arching into his grasp.

You felt the smug fuck smile at your neck, breath sending a chill down your spine. “So needy, baby.”

The nickname had you mewling, panting even further as once of his hands came to help with you the buckle. He freed himself, leather straps hanging at his waist as he unbutton the jeans, pulling the zipper down.

Your hand reached inside, grabbing his heavy cock. You both gasped at the feeling, Steve throwing his head back at the sensation of you tugging at him under his pants. The sounds echoing through the air were filthy—Steve groaning, the wet slickness of your hand on his cock, your dirty words of affirmation flowing out of your mouth.

His hand came to rub at you through your shorts, the thick material making you see stars. Your own head hit the wall, the thud louder than before.

“Shhh baby,” he muttered, pushing them to the side as his fingers brushed over your clothed opening. He smirked at you, low groan escaping his mouth as you were already dripping wet. You huffed, squeezing at the base of his cock in retaliation, feeling the way his hips jutted out.

“C-can’t wake Robin,” he gasped, hips moving rhythmically in sync with your strokes. His head was dripping wet, the inside fabric of his underwear soaking it up.

You felt his fingers prodding at your entrance, the thick jean and thin material of your underwear pushed to the side. They brushed your folds, collecting slick as he applied pressure to the sensitive bud.

“Need you, Steve, fuck,” your face was twisted in pleasure, core throbbing as he continued to tease you. The look on his face let you know he was falling apart at your touch too, brow furrowed as his bottom lip was sucked into his mouth.

He removed himself from you, tucking the exposed part back into his pants. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you down the hall, leading to an open door. He pushed you inside, shutting it behind him as he pushed you down on the bed.

You bounced, half smiling as you rid yourself of your shirt, throwing it across the room. The jeans shorts followed, leaving you exposed in your bra and panties.

Steve stood at the end of the bed, gaze roaming over your figure as that familiar dark look took over his features.

“The things you’re doing to me,” he breathed, crossing his arms at his waist as he pulled his shirt over his head. The sight of his chest, littered with hair at the top, made a rush of heat go straight to your core.

Your eyes followed his hands, watching as they pulled down his jeans, still unbuttoned from the hallway. His boner pushed at the front of his boxers, wet patch present as the material tented.

His eyes followed your eyeline, smirking at you as he saw your legs subconsciously opening wider. Your hand came down to rub between your legs, the panties becoming stickier with each passing moment.

“You want me to show you, baby?” His voice was taunting, leaning over the bed to make his slow crawl over your body. You nodded, eyes big with desire as you felt his heat over you. “Say it.”

“I-I want you t-to show me, Steve,” you moaned, free hand reaching up to grab at his neck. He stopped its movement, hand loose at the wrist as he sucked his teeth.

"Ah ah ah, say it again." His low voice had you falling apart, wetness pooling between your thighs.

"I want you to show me, Steve." Clearer this time, you arched into him spreading your legs so he lay between. He smirked and let go, leaning down to briefly kiss your lips before making his way down your neck.

The urgency you felt in your body contradicted his slow, languid movements. You felt the admiration in his movements, teeth nipping at your skin lightly, his tongue soothing over the marks. He made his way down, kissing over what seemed like every inch of you.

As he spread your legs, he maintained eye contact with you, hair falling into his eyes. His fingers rested at the waistband of your panties, mouth pressing light kisses over your clit. The fabric was thin enough to feel the heat of your breath, and it had you mewling.

"You're so beautiful, Yn," he whispered as he pulled the piece of fabric off of you. Your hand reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes, leaning up on your elbows so you could get sight of him.

His tongue darted out, licking at your clit as you exhaled deeply. Your hips jutted out, trying to feel the full heat of his mouth as his tongue gave you tiny licks, teasing you. Steve's smirk grew, arm resting at your waist to hold you down.

"'M just getting started, my love."

He began to suck at you, tongue dipping in and out of your folds as one of his fingers found your entrance, pushing in. You watched as his eyes fluttered shut, moaning at the taste of you.

It was heaven watching him. Seeing the way his face was pushed into you, fingers moving in and out of you with a fever. They curled inside of you, toying at the bundle of nerves deep in your walls. Clenching around him, your hips began to stutter, the weight of his arm adding a pressure that made your head feel light.

Bliss approached you, slowly then all at once. You swore you blacked out for a moment, vision going white as he licked you through the pleasure. Your breath was fast, chest heaving as that familiar over stimulation worked its way through your thighs.

Steve pulled away, satisfied with your unraveling. He licked the taste of you off of his lips, rising to his knees as he pulled his boxers down. His cock sprung free, dark red at the head as it dripped in desperation.

His hand came to stroke himself, squeezing small drops of precum out of the head.

"Steve," you groaned, hand reaching to grab at him. His hips angled towards your reach, he groaned as you made contact. You gave him short strokes, focusing your attention at the head.

"You wanna give me a little taste, sweetheart?" His sweet words of affirmation had you soaked with anticipation once again, a nod coming in reply. You repositioned yourself, lying on your stomach, propped up on your elbows as you licked at his head.

A low groan escaped him, hand coming to rest at the back of your head. You took him in your mouth, lips stretching over his girth as you opened up for him.

His hand pushed on your head, forcing down some of the length that you felt shy in taking. You sucked at him, looking up at him falling apart with small thrusts of his hips into your mouth. His head was angled to the side, eyes closed as you saw them move behind his lids. His mouth was open, free hand gripping at the roots of his hair.

He looked beautiful in this light, chest glistening as a sheen of sweat covered him. His hand guided your mouth, feeling the suction of your lips over his shaft. The way his hips stuttered into you had you choking, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth.

"M not gonna last, baby," he muttered, removing himself as you looked up at him. Steve glanced down at himself, seeing the way his cock shone with the glistening of your spit.

His eyes rolled, teeth digging into his bottom lip at the sight. You understood the feeling, the both of you being so turned on, it fucking hurt.

"Turn around for me." Rising to your hands and knees, you positioned yourself, arching your back. Blind to his movements, you heard him shuffle behind you, warm hands gripping at your waist that sent a shock to your spine.

His cock nudged at your entrance, a burn coming as he stretched you open. A high moan escaped your lips, hips running from the intrusion. His hands pulled you right back, cock pushing in even further.

"Shh, baby," he whispered, running his hand up your spine to soothe you. "It'll be okay."

You nodded, looking back over your shoulder at him admiring the way you stretched over him. As he pushed in further, the stretch burned even more. The pain was soothed away by the rubbing of his hands and the words of encouragement he gave you.

"'S okay," he muttered, pushing to the hilt. "I'm right here, baby."

Your knuckles were shaking as you gripped the sheets below you. Your eyes fluttered closed, a sigh escaping your lips.

"All right here, baby. I'm not gonna hurt you." His hips reared back before pressing in again, your back arching as pleasure flowed through your body.

"Steve, fuck," you moaned his name, feeling the way he pushed into you over and over, movements slow. He grabbed onto your hips, fucking into you as the sounds of slapping skin echoed through the room.

"You're taking it so good, my love."

His words had you gasping, hips shooting back to meet his movements half way. Seeing the effort you gave him back, his thrusts became faster, fucking into you with a passion.

Steve's words continued praising you, I love to see you falling apart and feels good, baby? and take it, you love my dick so much. You were panting his name, the only word you could focus on.

That pleasure arched up your spine once more, legs shaking with the promise of release. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, falling to the bed as Steve followed you to it. His large stature hung over your body, fucking you through your high.

You couldn't help, but press your face into the mattress, pleasure rippling through you as his movements quickened. You felt him approaching his own high as his words became short, breath raising a pitch.

"F-fuck, Yn," his voice was even an octave higher, face pressing in between your shoulder blades. His thrusts were irregular, slamming into you as the entire bed rocked. "Gon-gonna cum, baby, f-fuck, you did so well."

He released into you, pressing deep as you felt him fill you up. The warmness of his cum made you moan again, the thick liquid threatening to spill out the sides of his cock deep within you.

"Such a good job," he whispered to you before pulling out, collapsing next to you. He lay on his back, hand reaching out to rest at the small of your back.

You turned your head towards him, blinking slow as you took in the mess of the man. His hair was sticking to his face, cheeks red, and wetness around his mouth. He stared back at you, smirk ever present.

"I still hate you, Harrington," you whispered to him, noticing the way your legs felt numb. Sensing the irony in your words, you felt him leak out of you. A grimace crossed your face.

He laughed out loud, winking at you. He leaned to press a kiss to your nose, watching the way it crinkled under his touch.

"I'm sure you do, sweetheart."

You hid your smile in the sheets, rolling your eyes shut. Happiness warmed your body, the lingering effects of your orgasm. A gnawing feeling came to your heart, chest pounding for a different reason. You had fallen for it, the typical Harrington charm. At that moment, you tried not to tell yourself that things may be different, thinking of his words earlier.

He was different than before, however, the thoughts of King Steve still plagued your mind. This couldn't end well, Steve doesn't end well. You opened your eyes, finding him still staring at you.

"You know, I meant what I said, right?" He asked you, seemingly reading your mind. You blinked at him, ready to push that hard exterior forward. "I am different than I was."

Warmth filled your chest, hope bubbling at the surface.

"I don't know if I believe you," you whispered, voice sounding small in the big room. He pressed his lips together, mouth dropping at the corner.

"Let me show you," he replied, hand coming to brush the hair behind your ear. "Let me do that at least."

Hesitation came over you, silence filling the air between you. A few moments passed as he searched your eyes for any sign of emotion. It was like you had an angel and devil on each shoulder, warning you yet jumping for joy at the same time.

You slowly nodded, a sigh escaping your lips. Steve beamed at you, eyes squinting with the smile.

"I swear, Harrington, if you do anything to fuck me over, I will murder you," you shook your head, not believing you'd give him a chance. He leaned over again, pressing another kiss to your lips this time. His smile was contagious, you fought it back.

"Is that a promise?"

masterlist. requests and inbox are open.

[ellecdc]

hi lovie !

I ADORE your writing and get so excited everytime you post 😭

I wanted to ask if you’re okay with writing a poly!marauders x reader fic where r is an overthinker and over analyzes small things. It brings r to think the boys are mad at reader so r begins to close off— happy ending w/ healthy communication, just them reassuring r

🤍you can absolutely ignore this!!

thank you baby! I'm so glad to have you here with me 😭 thanks for your request 🫶

poly!marauders x fem!reader

CW: insecurities, overthinking, belief of conflict, eventual healthy communication skills, men behaving rationally (that's how you know it's fiction) jkjkjkjkjk 👀

You knew you were overthinking; you could actually hear yourself spiraling as you chewed aggressively on your cuticles. You ran through every single interaction you and the boys had throughout the past few days and couldn’t help but come to the same conclusion every time.

They were mad at you.

And even saying it aloud made you feel silly because, really, what could you have possibly done that would have managed to upset all three of them without knowing about it?

There had been a few disagreements between the four of you since the beginning of the relationship; more specifically since you had joined the relationship. 

The boys, it seemed, went through most of their more volatile fights prior to you meeting them. 

But that didn’t mean there weren’t arguments. There were always differences of opinions, some hurt feelings, and learning everyone’s sensitivities and love languages etc. didn’t happen overnight; it took time.

One thing you were particularly thankful for was that you had yet to ever feel like the boys were ‘ganging up’ on you. Your argument always stayed between you and the participant of the conversation and everyone else opted to stay out of it unless they felt they could provide some helpful insight. 

But for all of them to be mad at you without some big blow up happening? You couldn't imagine what would have caused it.

It wouldn’t have been anything you said or done to Sirius, as he was a very head strong person who preferred to face things upfront and head on. If you had done something wrong to Sirius, you would have heard about it. 

James was a wild card since he usually wore his feelings on his sleeve, but he also had a tendency to paint a smile on his face and smile through the pain in order to keep the peace. 

Remus was often stoic and the voice of reason, but you also knew he could be incredibly sensitive.

Oh god... had you done something to upset Remus? You must have...it’s the only rational explanation. He’d likely be telling Sirius not to say anything to you, and since Sirius struggled in biting his tongue, it would make sense that he opt for the “if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all” route.

And though James did tend to smile through the pain in order to keep the peace, he was also fiercely protective of his people – particularly when those people don’t seem inclined to stand up for themselves.

Oh god. Is this why they asked you to come over tonight? They wanted to talk to you...no, they wanted to break up with you. 

By the time James opened the door, you had forgotten you even knocked. He was all bright smiles until he took in your form – he was disappointed to see you. 

“Hello, honey. Come on in.” He said, though his words were stilted, sounding oddly scripted and rehearsed. 

“Hey sweets!” Sirius called from somewhere in their flat, “have you eaten yet?”

“Yeah.” You called back, having to clear your throat when your voice came out gravelly. You could feel James’ eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.

“Moony’s running late from work, but he’ll be home soon.” James announced as he ushered you into the living room.

You scanned your surroundings, cataloguing everything like it might be your last time in here.

You found signs of Remus’ love of trinkets and the oddities everywhere you looked, as well as signs of James and Sirius feeding into that by bringing him home things they’ve found as well. There’s a small pewter fox you bought on your trip to the coast sitting on one of the shelves of his bookcase.

Picture frames lined the walls; evidence of Sirius’ love for photography, his camera, and his favourite people.

And the god-awful pillow James found at an estate sale and insisted it have a place on the couch. It was ugly, it was lumpy, it didn’t match with anything else in the space, but it was James’ and he loved it.

Sirius came bounding into the room and rubbed at James’ shoulder affectionately, pecking a quick kiss to the crown of your head in hello before breezing by to head to the kitchen.

“He just got a home a few moments ago, he’s gonna heat up some leftovers for him and for Remus when he gets home.” James explained.

“Do you want any, doll?” Sirius called.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you!” You tried your best to sound upbeat while a horrid feeling settled in your stomach.

James seemed to feel just as awkward as you did; keeping his eyes dutifully on you whilst trying to appear that he wasn’t. His leg bounced anxiously underneath him as he leaned onto the arm of the grandfather chair he sat in – across the room from you.

It may as well have been an ocean worth of distance with the way it left you feeling.

Sirius returned to the living room a few moments later and made himself comfortable on the other end of the couch from you, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table after placing a glass of water directly on the coffee table. You wanted to chide him, knowing Remus would have him by the bollocks if he saw, but you didn’t know if it was your place anymore.

Sirius asked you how your day at work was and you offered him a vague “oh it was alright. Long. How about yours?” which started him on a long tangent about some of his more colourful customers today and how tiresome he found people in general. He and James shared some quips and anecdotes about worst moments in their various retail experiences, and you thought about how much you were going to miss this.

“Okay, what is going on?” Sirius snapped abruptly, causing your head to shoot up so quickly that you heard it crack.

“Huh?” You asked sheepishly.

Sirius’ brows furrowed as he stole a glance at James before turning back to you. “You’re being weird...what’s going on with you?”

But you didn’t get a chance to answer when the sound of the front door alerted everyone to Remus’ arrival. You hated that you visibly tensed at the sound of him moving down the hall.

“Hey bubs. Is she here?” You heard him ask James, since you and Sirius couldn’t yet see him nor he you from his position in the hall way.

You felt your face scrunch up miserably and quickly brought your hands up to shield your face, choking out a silent sob.

“Yeah.” James responded, though his voice was but a whisper as Sirius added a “whoa” at the same time. 

“What did you guys do?” Remus cooed and made his way towards you having spotted your distress.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered miserably, both for whatever you’d done to cause this conflict between the four of you and also for your embarrassing display of emotions.

“What are you sorry for, dovey?” Remus asked softly as he knelt in front of you, gently taking your wrists and coaxing them away from your face. 

“For upsetting you all.”

Remus’ brows furrowed beyond their worried state and into a more confused state as he turned to look at the other two boys in bemusement. 

“Well, I don’t think any of us are happy that you’re so upset, love, but we’re not upset. You don’t have to apologize.” He pressed.

“I don’t think that’s what this is.” James input from his place across the room.

“I’m sorry. I’m not quite sure why you’re mad at me, but I’d like to talk about it with you and I promise not to do it again.” You cried, sounding disturbingly and embarrassingly close to begging.

“Mad at you? Is that why you’ve been such a weirdo tonight? You thought we were mad at you?” Sirius asked incredulously.

“Don’t call her a weirdo, Pads!” James chided, standing from his chair. 

“Why’d you think everyone was mad at you, dove?” Remus asked, ignoring the squawking of his boyfriends behind him as he forced you to hold eye contact with him.

“I... I don’t know, I guess things just felt kind of off this week and then...I don’t know.” You admitted dumbly. “And then I got here and, it just felt weird.”

“I’m sorry, angel.” James apologized, suddenly beside you having taken to sitting directly on top of (a very petulant) Sirius. “You seemed distressed and... I got nervous. Usually, Rem is the better one at handling these things, I wanted to wait until he got here to broach the subject. Sirius, though, has the tact of a bull.”

“So, you were just going to let all of us sit here awkwardly until Remus got here to save the day, huh? Not on my fucking watch.” Sirius groaned as he positioned himself to kick James not only off of him, but off the couch completely. This caused Sirius’ glass of water to topple off the coffee table and onto the rug below it.

“Nice going, Prongs,” Sirius spat victoriously from his place on the couch, “look at the mess you’ve made.”

“It wasn’t even my cup!” James defended.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that wasn’t on a fuckin' coaster, Sirius.” Remus reproached darkly, tossing the dark-haired boy a glare over his shoulder.

Sirius just smirked and then winked at you. “There you go, dollface, now everyone’s mad at me instead.”

“Awe, Pads!” James cooed from the ground before launching himself back onto Sirius. “Look at you, taking the heat off our pretty girl.”

Remus shook his head in exhaustion, but you could see a fond smile ghosting his lips from his place before you.

“Trust me, dove. You’re the least of our problems.”

You chuckled wetly and wiped the tears (and more embarrassingly, the snot) from your face. “I’m sorry. I feel rather silly now.”

Sirius, having given up on his instance to be the little spoon between he and James, looked around James’ broad frame in his lap to face you. “How about this; if we’re ever upset with you, we promise to tell you. If we haven’t said anything; it’s safe to assume we’re not mad. Okay?”

You nodded in agreement.

“And...” James continued. “Next time you find yourself feeling like this, maybe you can tell us, too?”

You nodded emphatically. “Yes, I promise. I’m sorry.”

Remus kissed the backs of both of your hands and stood from his knelt position in front of you.

“No more sorry’s, dove. We’re all good.”

James stood from Sirius’ lap to place a warm kiss to the space between your cheek and ear and whispered another apology for your being upset.

“Hey, Moons?” Sirius called.

“Yeah?”

“Are you heading to the kitchen?” He called with the sort of smirk that caused you and James to exchange a suspicious look.

“Yeah.”

“Can you grab me a glass of water, please?”

“Fuckin’ hell Sirius get off your arse. And use a sodding coaster.” Remus bellowed from the bedroom.

“See? You’re the least of our problems.” James repeated, stamping another kiss to your cheek. 

[ssprayberrythings]

it'll be ok | LN4

lando norris x female!reader

warnings: unexpected pregnancy, talk of throwing up/being nauseous, suggestive actions implied if you get what i’m saying, early on pregnancy symptoms, mention of alcohol and being drunk (not the reader!!), lando being a simp for his girlfriend in every aspect of his life.

note: i know how pregnancy works and i’m not saying that reader got pregnant on this trip, her and lando are just h**ny 😭 (increased sex drive is a symptom of pregnancy though so..…) 

double note: i’m not sure how lily (oscar’s lily) is as a person but she seems like a sweetheart so i went off those vibes and i referred to alexandra by her full name cause if i said alex, someone might think alex albon lol 

okay thats it. enjoy 😉

word count: a little over 5k

masterlist | taglist

You and Lando had been dating now for close to 2 years. You were happy with the life you were making with him and he was happy to have you by his side through his success. 

Everything was going great, at least it was up until 5 minutes ago. Now here you were sitting in the bathroom to the villa you had rented out for a vacation with friends, holding a pregnancy test not sure what to do with the fact that there were two lines looking back at you. 

48 Hours Before Finding Out

“Omg this is so much more prettier than the pictures” you said as you, Lando and some of your closest friends which included some of the other drivers and their girlfriends, walked into the villa 

“This is gonna be great” Lando exclaimed excitedly while wrapping an arm around your waist “Alright everyone get their rooms sorted and when you’re done, meet down by the beach” he told everyone, earning a round of “okays” and “sounds goods”. 

You and Lando made your way to the master suite on the second floor, seeing as you had been the ones to suggest the vacation and rent the villa, it was only fair you got the biggest room. 

“Lan I don’t know which bathing suit to wear” you asked as you stared at the bathing suits you had brought. 

“Doesn’t matter to me, either way it’ll end up on the floor later” he whispered in your ear as he came up behind you 

You blushed at his flirty remark “You’re naughty” you joked with him 

“Only for you” he reiterated as he put his hands on your hips and started kissing your neck 

“Lan if we start doing that, we’re never gonna leave” you tried being serious even though the shudder in your voice gave you away, telling Lando he was succeeding in distracting you. 

This happened quite frequently. Lando knew you so well and he made you feel things, none of your previous boyfriends had ever made you feel. 

He continued kissing your neck, knowing exactly where to put his lips. You felt yourself giving in with the way he was kissing you and how his hands were slowly moving down from your hips, you knew you wouldn’t be making it to the beach anytime soon. 

-

You and Lando eventually left your room, joining your friends on the beach. 

“Where the hell were you two” Max asked as he sat on a beach chair with everyone else doing their own thing 

“Y/N needed help picking a bathing suit” Lando responded smirking, knowing Max wouldn’t believe him but also knew he wouldn’t push for the truth, he was smart enough to put two and two together. 

“Babe I’m gonna go in the water, care to join?” Lando asked turning to you as your hands were interlocked 

“No I’m okay for now, I’m gonna try and tan a bit then I’ll come join you” you told him, he smiled at your answer and then gave you a quick kiss on the cheek and started making his way towards the water to join the friends of yours that were currently playing water volleyball. 

You spent the rest of your day in between tanning with the girls and playing in the water with Lando. Once everyone was done with the sun, you all made your way back to the house where you went to your perspective rooms to rest a little before you went out for dinner. 

You felt extra tired which on any other day you might be more concerned about but you had been travelling between time zones and then spent a significant amount of time in the sun, so in your head it made sense to be this tired. 

Once you had changed from your bathing suit into some clean undies and a oversized T-shirt, you crashed on yours and Lando’s bed where he was already sitting scrolling on his phone 

“Lan im gonna take a quick nap, wake me up in like an hour so I can start getting ready” you told him as you curled into a ball nuzzling your face into the pillows 

“Sure thing sweets” he said leaning down to kiss your head before going back to his phone, keeping one hand free to play with your hair knowing that always helped put you to sleep. 

-

Lando stayed true to his word and gently woke you up about an hour into your nap, not wanting to, seeing as you looked so peaceful but knowing you’d be upset if he let you sleep longer than you wanted.

“Babe” he said gently stroking his hand over your cheek 

“Hmm” you mumbled still half asleep 

“You wanted me to wake you so you could start to get ready” he told you smiling at how cute you looked 

“Why are you a good boyfriend and actually listen to what I say” you grumbled 

He chuckled “C’mon we can take a shower together, that’ll wake you up” he suggested knowing you’d get what he was implying 

You opened one eye looking at him to see if he was joking but knew he wasn’t when you saw the look in his eyes, this got you to open both eyes and slowly stretch, waking up fully in the process 

“Alright pretty boy let’s go” you said as you got off the bed causing a laugh to leave Lando as he got off the bed, following you into the bathroom. 

-

Once everyone including you and Lando were ready, you decided to visit a cute Italian restaurant nearby. Everyone in the group all loved Italian so it worked out perfectly. 

While you were walking to the restaurant, you felt a slight squeeze in your stomach but chalked it up to that all you had to eat today was some fruit and a small salad. 

Lately your appetite hadn’t been what it normally was, you pushed this thought aside though wanting to enjoy your vacation and deciding you’d worry about it once you got back home. 

After some walking you reached the restaurant, Charles taking point and speaking to the hostess in Italian to get a table. They brought you to the part of the restaurant that was more private and made sure there were enough seats for everyone. 

The host got you all menus and water, letting you know your server would be there momentarily. 

You politely smiled at her and offered her thanks in Italian, you may have loved everything Italian but your knowledge of the language didn’t go past basic phrases and words. 

You sat next to Lando and Lily, Oscars girlfriend. The two of you had gotten close with your boyfriends being teammates. You felt that squeeze in your stomach again, this time more intense so you casually reached for your water and hoped it would help. 

Once you had drank enough water to feel better, you went back to look at your menu 

“Baby are you okay? You just practically chugged your water” Lando asked quietly turning to you 

You nodded “Yeah, I'm good, I just didn’t realize how thirsty I was” you lied offering him a smile, he seemed to believe you and went back to the menu, Lily however offered you a strange look, having overheard your words and not fully believing you but deciding not to push. 

You could still feel that slight squeeze in your stomach and was apprehensive to order a large meal so you went for a simple soup, figuring it was the safest option. 

When everyone’s food arrived, you caught a whiff of the food around you and suddenly that squeeze in your stomach was becoming too much to handle. You didn’t want to bring attention to yourself but if you didn’t go to the washroom now, you weren’t sure what would happen so you turned to Lily.

“Lils I need your help” you whispered to the girl who had just taken a bite of her food 

“Is everything okay? You look pale” she asked concerned 

“I’m gonna throw up and desperately need to get away from the table” you explained trying to stuff the nausea down until you were somewhere else 

“Say no more” the girl said then turned to Oscar letting him know she was using the washroom, he smiled and moved out of the booth, luckily he was on the end 

“Y/N will you come with?” She asked, acting like the washroom was her idea and just wanted a friend to accompany her 

Your name sparked Lando’s interest and turned to face you 

“Babe I’ll be back im just gonna go to the washroom with Lily” you told him quickly before getting out of the booth, offering Oscar a small smile to say sorry for interrupting his meal 

Then you and Lily made your way to the washroom, as much as you would’ve preferred to run there, you didn’t want to seem weird so you casually bit your lip and hoped you could get there in time. 

“Girls are so strange in always wanting someone with them to go to the washroom” Lando said to Oscar eating his food 

Oscar just shrugged “I’m used to it at this point” he replied to his friend and teammate before both drivers went back to their previous conversation with the others around them. 

Meanwhile in the washroom, you were in a stall on your knees with your head over the toilet. Luckily Lily was there to hold back your hair and rub your back. 

“Are you okay? Did you eat something you shouldn’t have?” She asked after you were done and had stood up, using some tissues to wipe your mouth 

“I didn’t have anything weird to eat, just some fruit and a small salad” you told her as you fixed your hair and did your best to get the taste of vomit out of your mouth. Remembering you had gum in your purse and silently saying a prayer to your past self for putting it there. 

“That’s strange” she said even though you could sense there was more the girl wanted to say but held back 

“I don’t know how I'm gonna get through dinner. The smell of everything is what triggered this” you told her turning to her 

“Maybe just tell Lando you aren’t feeling the greatest and are gonna walk back to the Villa” she suggested 

“He wont let me go alone, he’ll want to join me and I don’t want to take him away from everyone” you explained 

“I’ll go back with you. I’ll just tell Oscar to bring my food home in a to go box” she offered 

“Are you sure Lils?” You asked the girl, feeling bad

“That’s what friends are for” she smiled

“Okay, let’s go then” you told her 

-

When you made your way back to the table, Lando looked at you, you could see there was some concern behind his eyes probably because of how long you had been in the washroom 

You slid in the booth to tell him you and Lily were gonna head back 

“I’m just not feeling super great and don’t want to take you away from everyone so Lily’s gonna walk back with me” you explained to him 

“Are you okay? What are you feeling? I’ll walk back with you, I don’t mind” he told you the concern only worsening 

“Babe I'm fine, really, I'm sure a good nights rest is all I need and then tomorrow I’ll be good” you reassured him, offering him a small smile 

“Okay but text me if you need anything or want me to come back” he told you which you nodded and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before getting out of the booth and walking to the exit with Lily. 

“Where’s Lily and Y/N going?” Charles asked 

“Y/N’s not feeling the great so they’re going back to the villa” Lando answered him 

Charles nodded then went back to talking to his girlfriend, Alexandra.

Lando shared a look with Oscar as both of their girlfriends had left them 

“Did Lily say anything?” Lando asked Oscar as they moved closer now that there was some space between them 

“No, just that she was going back with Y/N” he told him. He could see Lando was worried “I’m sure she’ll be fine and Lily will text if anything happens” Oscar did his best to reassure the Brit. Lando just nodded and silently went back to his food. 

-

24 Hours Before Finding Out

The next day, you had woken up and luckily you didn’t feel any feelings of nausea, hopefully that was an indicator that today was going to be different from yesterday and you could enjoy your trip. 

You got out of bed and made your way to the kitchen, you had a strange craving for orange juice which wasn’t normally your go to breakfast drink but you weren’t mad about it, seeing as the orange juice in the fridge was freshly squeezed. 

You smiled when you poured yourself a tall glass and went to sit on the patio furniture outside enjoying the beautiful view.

You pulled your phone out, scrolling through TikTok. You tried to avoid TikTok because most of the time you’d see videos of your boyfriend or any sort of f1 content but today you gave it a chance. 

So far it was going great until you saw a video of this creator explaining their battle with cancer and how they were finally in remission. You felt the tears gathering in your eyes but figured it was just your hormones and you being a sensitive person. 

Then you moved from TikTok to Instagram and saw a post about puppy adoptions and suddenly you couldn’t hold the tears back and that’s how Lando found you, crying over your phone 

“Babe what’s wrong?” He asked instantly pulling the chair next to you, rubbing your back 

“These puppies, they’re all up for adoption” you told him, showing him the rescue centre’s instagram highlighting all the dogs they had up for adoption. 

Lando found you the cutest for crying over dogs “Why are you crying though?” he asked still rubbing your back 

You shrugged, wiping your eyes with the back of your sleeve “I don’t know, they just all look so cute and I want them to find their forever homes” you tried to explain why you were crying, even if you didn’t fully understand why. 

“You’re adorable” he smiled at you “How about when we get back, we can try and organize an adoption event with the centre, I’m sure the attention from an f1 driver should help” he suggested.

He would do anything to see you smile even if that meant having to talk with his PR manager about organizing a puppy adoption event sponsored by McLaren. 

The idea brought a smile to your face and you sniffled “Thats really sweet of you Lan” you told him 

“We’ll get all those dogs adopted” you leaned over giving your boyfriend a hug. The tears had subsided which Lando was grateful for, he hated seeing you cry. 

He hugged you back, kissing the top of your head “Anything for you sweets” he reassured you. 

-

After your moment, you and Lando joined the rest of your friends inside. You all enjoyed a nice breakfast together, then once the dishes were dealt with, you all went your own ways, everyone wanting to do something different. 

You and Lando planned to go take some pictures around the area. That was one of the things that drew you two to each other, both having a passion for photography. 

On your first date, you spent so much time sharing pictures and the stories that went with them so when you started dating, it became something you did together, whenever you could. 

You were walking up to your room when Kika called your name. You turned looking in the direction of where your name had come, seeing Kika sticking her head out of her and Pierre’s room.

“Whats up? Is everything okay?” you asked as you approached their room. 

“Yeah, I just was wondering if you had a tampon or a pad, I got my period and just realized I didn’t bring anything” she chuckled 

“Oh yeah, I have tampons in my room. I’ll bring you a few to get you through until you can go to a local store” you told the girl, she smiled at you “Thank you, youre an angel” 

You just smiled and then turned walking to your room, going straight to the washroom, to look through your toiletries bag. As you looked at the mini travel sized bag you brought filled with tampons, it hit you, you had never gotten your period. 

You were supposed to get it right before the trip and the last few days of your period should’ve been the first couple days you were away but as you got ready for vacation, you still hadn’t gotten it which was why you brought a weeks worth figuring you’d end up getting it on the trip but you still hadn’t gotten it and that sparked a fear within you. 

You quickly grabbed a few for Kika and closed the bag. As you turned to leave the washroom, you bumped into Lando “Oh sorry babe” you told him, you must’ve seemed frazzled judging by the expression Lando offered you 

“Are you okay?” he asked “Oh yeah, just need to give something to Kika” you told him hiding the tampons behind your back.

Obviously Lando knew what a period was, having a mother, 2 sisters and a girlfriend, he was used to it and had they been for you, you wouldn’t have cared but you didn’t want to make Kika uncomfortable so you with held those details from him. 

“Oh okay..well I’m ready to go whenever you want to go take some photos” he told you, offering you his typical Lando smile. You smiled, leaning up to kiss his lips “I can be ready in a few minutes” you told him once you pulled away. 

Then moved around him, being sure he couldn’t see what was behind your back before leaving the room, walking to Kika’s. You knocked on the door, she answered almost immediately  “You’re my lifesaver. I owe you” she told you once you handed her the tampons. 

“Really glad you said that, I need you to get me something from the store whenever you go” you told her biting your bottom lip, something you did when you were nervous 

“What’s up?” she asked 

“Can you get me a couple pregnancy tests” you whispered, not wanting anyone to hear. Kika’s eyes grew in size “Woah, really?” she confirmed, you just nodded, not saying anything. 

“Yeah of course. Want me to leave them in your suitcase while you’re out?” she offered 

“That’d be great. Thank you” you told her 

“Do you really think you’re” she started before gesturing to your stomach instead of saying the word 

“Honestly I’m not too sure, it didn’t cross my mind until moments ago when I realized I missed my period” you explained, she nodded along 

“Well you aren’t alone regardless of the results. We’re all here for you” she reassured you, you smiled at her words. 

“Thanks Kika, I appreciate that” you told her “Anyways I should go and get ready, Lan and I are going to take some photos around the area, I’ll see you later” you told her offering her a goodbye before walking back to yours and Lando’s room. 

You quickly changed into something clean, washed your face, tied your hair into a high ponytail and then slipped on your converse to go meet Lando downstairs. 

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-

You and Lando ended up having an awesome time. You walked around and took plenty of photos. Yours were of the area, some of the locals, some of Lando, a good variety meanwhile Lando’s were mostly of you. 

He called you his muse the first time you asked him why he took so many pictures of you but by now you had grown used to it and didn’t question it. 

In the midst of walking around, you had grabbed a quick bite to eat at a cute cafe. You went with a fruit parfait and water, figuring it was the safest option not wanting to risk being sick. 

After being out for a couple hours, you eventually made your way back to the villa. When you got back, you got a text from Kika after passing her in the kitchen. 

Kika: ‘They’re in your suitcase, under a pile of bathing suits’ 

You quickly texted her back 

Y/N: ‘Thank you. Now I owe you’ 

Kika: ‘If you end up having a girl, name her Francisca 😌’

You laughed, not answering her but rather hearting the message then going to find the tests. 

When you walked into your room, you heard Lando in the washroom, so you checked your suitcase to double check where they were and then once you had confirmation, covered them back up. 

You had plans with everyone to go out tonight so you wouldn’t be able to test until tomorrow. You weren’t sure how you were gonna avoid drinking tonight. 

It’s not as if you were a heavy drinker, you just enjoyed doing shots while you were out and you could handle your alcohol well so nights out never phased you. 

Tonight however to be cautious incase you were pregnant you had to avoid alcohol. 

You sighed, so far this trip you had spent more time stressed out then relaxed and you weren’t sure how much more you could handle before you exploded from the uncertainty. 

You heard Lando finishing in the washroom so you quickly grabbed an outfit from your suitcase before shutting it. 

“I thought you were gonna join me in the shower” Lando said when he walked out, his curls wet from the water

“Sorry my love, I took too long trying to figure out what to wear” you lied, offering him a soft smile 

“It’s okay, I can think of a couple ways you can make it up to me” he winked at you, you blushed. 

“Your cheeky” you told him smiling as he laughed at your comment. 

You quickly got yourself ready and then you made your way downstairs with Lando to meet everyone else. Once everyone was ready to go, you made your way to the local club. 

On the way, Kika linked her arm with yours and walked a bit up from the boys. 

“Did you test?” She asked in a low tone, you subtly shook your head 

“I need your help tonight avoiding alcohol” you replied keeping your voice low 

She nodded “Don’t worry, we’ll get you a mocktail at the bar and you can either sip on it through the evening or keep going back for the same one. Then with shots, we’ll tell the bartender to give you water” she explained still keeping her voice low, you offered her a small smile 

“I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here. You and Lily have both been the best” you exclaimed, Kika just smiled and gave you a side hug 

“That’s what friends do” she told you.

-

Once you got to the club, Kika went to get your drinks and made sure to tell the bartender the plan. The bartender was a female and without even having to explain why, somehow she understood and told Kika to always give you the shot with a rounder base. 

So far everything had been going smoothly and once people became more intoxicated, it was easier to let loose and not keep up the show as much as you had been. 

Surprisingly you were having a great time sober, just getting to dance with everyone and enjoy being with your friends, this was exactly what you needed and it took your mind off what you had to do tomorrow. 

Currently you were dancing with Lando, his hands were on your waist and you could smell the alcohol on his breath. It didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. 

“Babyyyyy” he said into your ear due to the loud music 

“Yes Lan?” You asked laughing at your boyfriends behaviour 

“I love youuu” he told you stretching out the you. You smiled at him 

“I know. I love you too” you told him running a hand through his curls, he closed his eyes enjoying the feeling 

“Can we go back to our place, I just want to be alone with you” he told you, pulling you closer and nuzzling his face in your neck, breathing in your perfume.

“What about our friends?” You asked him, even though you knew they’d be fine and you wouldn’t mind alone time with Lando

“They’ll be fine” he said as he started kissing your neck, you shuddered a bit at the sensation. 

“Don’t start doing that here or we won’t be able to stop” you told him even though you didn’t want him to stop 

“I don’t want to stop” he said pulling his lips away to answer you before leaning down and kissing you. 

You felt yourself getting weaker in the knees. This was the effect Lando had on you. 

“Okay fine, let’s leave then” you said in between breaths, he smiled and then grabbed your hand, intertwining his with yours and carefully made his way to the door. 

“Where are you going?” Kika asked as you passed her and Pierre 

“Back to the Villa. See you later, stay safe” you told her quickly offering a wave over your shoulder 

She chuckled “Children having a child” she muttered under her breath 

“What did you just say?” Pierre asked his girlfriend 

Kika didn’t think he had heard with the music “Nothing” she quickly said 

“No I swear you said” he started but she stopped him before he could finish. 

“Pierre just drop it for now. Please” she asked. The look they shared said enough. He nodded and then they went back to dancing. 

She hoped he wouldn’t say anything further on the topic, her boyfriend had a tendency to spread gossip even if it wasn’t always intentional but hopefully this time, he’d keep it to himself. 

Back at the Villa, you and Lando were having a great time and took advantage of the empty house, getting to be loud as you pleased. If you weren’t already pregnant, there’s a good possibility after tonight, you might’ve been. 

-

Moments Before Finding Out

The next morning, you woke up wrapped in the duvet and Lando. You smiled at how peaceful he looked. Then you remembered what you had to do and suddenly you felt the nerves creep back up on you. 

You sighed and carefully got out of bed, being sure not to wake Lando. Thankfully he was a heavy sleeper when he had been drinking. 

You crept over to your suitcase, finding the pregnancy tests and taking them to the washroom. You had googled that testing in the morning was the best time so that’s what you were doing. 

You locked the door and then opened the first box. Taking the test and sitting on the toilet. You quickly peed on the stick and then placed it back on the counter, on top of a piece of toilet paper. You finished up and then pulled your sleep shorts back up and set the timer on your phone. Sitting on the edge of the toilet. 

You closed your eyes trying your best to keep your breathing steady. Everything would be fine. Lando loved you and even if this was unexpected, he wouldn’t leave you, at least you didn’t think he would, he wasn’t like that. You did some more deep breaths until your timer went off and you quickly silenced it not wanting to wake up Lando. 

You shakily stood up from the toilet and with your shaking hands, reached for the test and that’s when you saw, the two lines looking up at you, indicating you were pregnant.

-

After Finding Out

After the first positive, you had to do the other 3 tests to be sure and of course those all came back positive. You put them back in one of the boxes and just stood there in shock. 

You were pregnant. You were going to be a mom and Lando was going to be a dad. You wanted to cry but you also knew once you started you wouldn’t be able to stop. 

You weren’t sure how long you stayed in the washroom until you heard Lando call your name, you knew you had to tell him now or else you’d drive yourself mad keeping it in. 

You opened the door and made your way back to the bed. Seeing Lando sitting up rubbing his eyes, he must’ve just woken up.

“Lan, I need to tell you something” you told him biting your lip due to your nerves. He looked confused 

“Is everything okay? Did something happen?” He asked as you made your way to sit next to him. You sat with your feet tucked under you 

You reached for his hand “Nothing happened” you reassured him then took a deep breath before continuing

“I’m pregnant” you told him trying to keep your voice steady and calm not wanting to show your nerves, already knowing Lando would have plenty of his own. 

“Sorry but I think I heard you incorrectly; did you say pregnant?” He asked rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. 

You nodded your head, not sure what was going through his mind at the moment. You sat in silence for what felt like a lifetime, the longer the more nervous you got. 

Lan was never speechless and this scared you “Lan please say something” you said, feeling yourself wanting to cry even more now 

He must’ve sensed you were on the verge of tears “Baby I'm sorry, come here” he said opening his arms which you gladly accepted and buried your head in his chest, the tears finally leaving. 

“It’s unexpected but it’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out together” he said rubbing your back “I love you and there’s no one else I’d want to have children with, I just thought it’d be a bit further down the road but this is okay. Baby’s are a good thing regardless of when they come” he told you. 

You pulled away, wiping your eyes “So you aren’t gonna leave?” You asked as you hiccuped 

“Not a chance. You’re stuck with me for life now” he told you smiling. You returned the smile finally feeling better. 

You and Lando spent the rest of the morning cuddled up, talking about your baby, what you thought they’d look like, how they’d act, if they were a boy or a girl. 

At some point you must’ve started to drift off cause you found yourself cuddled up next to Lando as he played with your hair, subconsciously your hand found its place on your stomach and Lando kissed your head. 

He loved you and would do anything for you and now that meant your baby as well. The two of you were his world and he planned on spending the rest of his life making sure you both knew how much he loved you both. 

-

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AH! I hope you all enjoyed this <3 I had such a fun time writing it and I'm proud of how it turned out! Im always open to feedback so please share your thoughts !

[lundenloves]

fatherhood II

*Standing on a soap box, pointing at every one of you.* I will not be responsible for the tears passed in this piece of written emotional catastrophe. It simply had to be done. Simon meeting his daughter for the first time. It's canon. Leave me alone! *Runs away*

↳ no warnings | f!reader | 1.2k

part one | dad!simon masterlist

i may as well be running from lions at this rate, i cannot believe this. yes i can. no one talk to me or ask me the colour of anything for at least twelve days. sigh.

Having a baby sleeping on his chest was not on Simon Riley’s bingo cards for this year. His own baby at that.

Ironically, it was like learning to walk all over again. Having a little person who was completely dependent on you was something he couldn’t fathom at all until the time came. And boy, did it come, straight to the deep end he was.

It started when he was stood on the doorstep to his own home, two days late, taking deep breaths and roughing his hair in attempts to alleviate the bubbling anxiety. He was mentally beating himself up for the fucking career he’d chosen, and the hardships that came with time. Time he wouldn’t get back.

“Fuck sake, Simon.” Came a mutter to himself, slapping one hand of motivation to his cheek before reaching to turn the handle. Baby cries were audible from outside, his jaw tightening at the sound. He hadn’t been home in two weeks. Many an argument had passed to get time off although it just simply wasn’t an option. Forcing his wife to give birth alone bar her family. Christ.

He stepped into the house quietly, as if subconsciously on a fucking stakeout. A shaky sigh came when he’d leant against the wall, dropping his bag and shutting the door behind him.

It was a lot and he hadn’t even met her yet.

His daughter.

A rush of guilt panged in his chest and forced the steps he took toward the living-room. His broad shoulders filled the doorframe, in complete contrast to the tiny baby who lay in your arms.

His cold heart attempted to ignite a spark at the sight, kickstarting a warmth that didn’t quite come. Not until you had caught sight of him and instantaneously teared up. It was like all hell had broken loose in his chest, experiencing emotions he hadn’t felt in years. Still, he couldn’t speak, nor move.

You brought her to him, standing up and pressing your forehead against his chest. “You don’t need to say anything.” He nodded quietly, looking down at the baby in your arms. The inner corners of his eyebrows had raised, jaw tensing and loosening between seconds.

You could practically see the thoughts race through his mind. Good and bad.

“Stop worrying, you’re home now.” His shirt had a central wet patch from your silent tears.

You weren’t going to tell him how it was hell, how awful it was that he wasn’t around, and just how much you cried the night you got home with her. Welcomed by an empty house and darkness.

“Simon.” You said weakly, looking up at him and catching the gloss of his dark eyes. He was just as devastated about the whole thing. “Don’t think about it. It’s over. We have her, she’s safe, I'm safe.”

He nodded slowly, eyes unmoved from the baby below him. “Do you want to hold her?” Your voice came as a whisper, aware of his anxieties.

“I don’t know how.” He cleared his throat, looking back up to you. The hardness in his eyes was still there, although exposed by the sheen of upset that threatened to spill. You’d never seen him cry. Not once in the seven years of being together.

You smiled a little at him, a quivering one at best. “You just have to support her head.” Your arms lifted toward his, lightly adjusting his positions before handing your daughter toward her father.

And fuck, did it hit you then.

Stepping back, you made an effort to mentally photograph the scene in front of you. His eyes cast down to the baby in his arms, holding her as if she could break any second. The large palm of his hand was bigger than her whole body, supporting her with his arm although she barely used a forearm's worth of space. Her little hands raised upward, entirely relaxed in his arms as opposed to the crying he had walked in on.

His energy had entirely calmed her down.

“How do you feel?” You sucked your lips inward, both hands on your head to calm the maddening amount of emotion running through your stomach.

His eyes remained fixed on his daughter, still frozen in the position you had put him in. “I don’t know.” He admitted, voice as deep as ever although it had a strain to it.

You nodded. “That’s okay.”

The two of you shared a silence for a minute or two, just entirely in the moment for your daughter and the small babbles she made every now and then. The only consistent sound was her breathing, only audible for the dead silence in the house.

He shifted, “Are you alright?”

You rubbed your arm, looking up at him to find his eyes already on yours. “Mhm.” It was the truth, although he was evidently searching for a different answer. “Just glad you’re home.”

“Have you slept much?”

“Not really. But that’s okay.” The sweet tone of your voice made his shoulders drop, arms relax and his eyes soften. Well, until the baby began to cry and he tensed up all over again, silently panicking while looking to you. “Relax, Si.”

He screwed his face, letting her small hand curl weakly around his finger in hopes she would stop crying. “She’s fine. You’re fine.” A warm laugh escapes you and a slight smile plays on his lips at the sound. “She’s just tired.”

He pushed his arms toward you, gesturing you take her back. He was tired. You could see it in his eyes, “She’s still crying.”

“I couldn’t hear that.” You quip and he tsks, holding his arms out a little further. “Sit with her, it’ll be easier on your arms.” It was a thing for you, wanting him to have her in his arms as often as he could and not scare himself away.

He gave you a predictably unsure look before moving to the sofa. Each step he took was cautious to not stir her even further, sitting down slowly. You leant against the dining table, looking at him from across the room as he mumbled words you couldn’t hear to the baby in his arms.

When he had relaxed, she too calmed down. The steady breathing of his chest created a rise and fall that drifted her to sleep, small fingers still wrapped around his the best they could.

“Are you alright if I shower?”

He looked up in your direction, a flash of a panic appeared across his features. “What do I do if she wakes up?” His glance directed back down to the unthreatening baby in his arms.

“Just talk to her, like you just did.” You walked over, leaning down over the back of the sofa to press a kiss to his cheek. “I know it’s hard, but don’t think about it too much.” Hands placed on his shoulders, massaging into his collarbones.

He hummed in response.

“I’ll be ten minutes.”

Simon only lasted three. Three minutes of staring down at his daughter, alone and full of emotion for her but it wasn’t willing to come out just yet. Fatigue had taken over and by the time you had gotten back, ready to put her down for the night, she was already deep in sleep along with her father.

She was on his chest, arm raised upward to his neck where her tiny fingers touched his skin. His head tilted to the back of the sofa, two hands supporting her while soft snores left him.

Fatherhood.

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[oceansblvds]

closer ; coriolanus snow

pairing ; coriolanus snow x reader

words ; 3.4k

about ; you and coriolanus have never exactly gotten along, and all of that boils over at a party you're hosting. based off of this request.

warning(s) ; smut, fingering, p in v sex, not edited, mentions of choking someone out (lol)

authors note ; please feel free to request fics or headcanons or blurbs! i hope u enjoy :) kinda got carried away with this one.

Coriolanus was, for lack of a better word, obsessive. 

He was obsessive in the things that he did, the people he saw, the way he dressed, he was obsessive to the point that anyone who had even a glance as to what he was thinking would think that he was insane. It was no way to live, but the spiny, tingly feeling that rose up his spine when he felt the obsession for yet another thing growing was enough to keep him tethered in his ways. He’s a reserved, meticulous man who never let himself be seen as anything other than such, no one had ever seen him make one mistake, not since he was a young child. He was erratic, cold and calculated all at the same time. He didn’t like when things didn’t go his way, and he certainly didn’t like when he felt that someone was trying to best him. 

And that’s what you seemed to do, try to best him. All the time, you would walk into a room and all eyes would turn to you instead of him. You always had a way with your words, speaking to the hearts of people and reminding them that you were the Academy’s darling. It made him sick to his stomach, the knot twisting into a more convoluted mess within his gut until he wanted to throw up what little he had to eat that day. He had never felt this way about someone before, whatever it was, and he didn’t like it, not one bit. With you, he felt as if he had no control. With you, people didn’t fall under his spell. 

The party bustled all around, the lavish hall that it was situated in being filled with the noises of mentors and peers alike, all in celebration for the next Hunger Games. It was at your house, which pained Coriolanus, but made sense. You were always looking to help out, and it seemed to be the perfect opportunity for the Dean to ask if you and your family would host this gathering. You considered it done the moment it was asked of you, all you had to do was ask your parents for the money and for the time and you organized the whole thing. It was going perfectly. Many people came up to you, chiding about how wonderful the party was, how they hoped that they would get some of the appetizing leftovers from the snack table. You gave smiles, your laughter filling up the space that Coriolanus could hear, wanting nothing more than to smack you silly, to prove that you were not better than him. 

It was stupid, really, considering you had done nothing to prove that you were trying to humiliate him. It was all twisted in his mind. And he was determined to make things right, whatever that meant. 

He made his way to you, dressed in a pressed white dress shirt and black slacks, accenting his long legs, his usually curled hair pressed back only a bit in a styled fashion. He was handsome, there was no denying it. Your eyes met his blue ones, almost being enveloped in the sea of them as he made his way further. 

“Well then, if it isn’t the Academy’s darling,” Coriolanus said, his tone nothing but authoritative, as if he was trying to make you feel uncomfortable. You were used to his slight jabs, the way that he always seemed to want to push your buttons. You paid it no mind, not letting him have the satisfaction. “How much of daddy’s money did you have to spend to pull this off?” 

You rolled your eyes, pearled white teeth biting your tongue as you chose your words carefully. “Coriolanus, do tell me, is it your mission in life to be a thorn in my side?” A playful jab, something that you could easily spin out as being a tease if the wrong person was to hear. After all, you wouldn’t want your reputation to tank over one encounter. That was the thing about the Academy, always somewhere there was someone watching, listening. You were never alone. 

Thorns. They reminded him of his Grandma’am’s roses, how the things would get caught in your skin if you weren’t careful enough. There had been many times where he had cut himself on the barbs, the tip digging into the thin layer of his hand and drawing blood when he had gone to cut one for his outfit. He thought to himself how he wanted to be a thorn in your side, how he wanted to poke and prod at you until he drew blood, to see your perfect image falter under his touch. He chuckled at your words, the crease lines of his smile oh so evident as you looked at his stupid, perfect face. He leaned in, the smell of roses enveloping the two of you, his face almost disastrously close to your own. 

“Do you want me to be?” 

You scoffed. “Being crass now?” 

Of course, of course you dealt your hand in the same way that you always did. He would put himself out there, trying to get a rouse out of you, and you wouldn’t bite at the bait. You would simply leave him there, to play with himself, and it was so infuriating. For once, just once, he wished that he would see that perfectness in your stature falter. He wanted to see you ruined, whether or not he was the person to do it. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he knew that he had to be the one to ruin you. You were his, whether you knew it or not. 

You walked away from him, spinning on your perfect heels and making your way to a door, opening it and closing. It was the bathroom, one of many in your house but the one that was most accessible to the party. You needed a moment alone, to freshen up, to get Coriolanus out of your mind. This was your party, he wasn’t just going to ruin it like this by using all of his stupid words. Your hand went to your forehead, pushing some of the strands that had fallen from your perfectly styled hair back to their place, leaning in and scanning your face in the mirror for any other mistakes on your clear skin. Just as you were about to turn and make your way out, you watched as the door opened and closed just as quickly, Coriolanus standing there with his back to the door. You heard the familiar click of the lock, and the way that he looked at you made you shiver. He looked like he wanted to eat you alive. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked him, moving to grab the handle but was quickly swatted away by his hand. You looked up at him, the height difference palpable, despite the heels you had on. He was so much bigger than you, he could easily overpower any move that you tried to make. “Let me through, Snow, this isn’t funny.” 

“No.” 

Your eyes squinted. “No?” 

“You know, for someone who spends hours in front of the mirror, you’re not fooling anyone,” Coriolanus said. He took a step forward, which didn’t really make such a difference in the long run. This was a big bathroom, if you really wanted you could've had a party in here with a sizable guest list. Still, you took a step backwards, wanting to keep the distance between the two of you. 

“What’s your problem, Coriolanus?” 

“You’re my problem,” He breathed out. “Always pretending to be so damn perfect.” 

You laughed. “Well, not everyone can embrace mediocrity as effortlessly as you do.” A low blow, something you knew would get under his skin and rile him up. And it seemed to do just that, because you could see his jaw clench, perfect facade that he had seemed to falter. You had caught him off guard, he hadn’t expected you to bite back with such a fiery attitude. But maybe you had just had enough of all his button pushing, of all his mindless teasing and hating on you for what seemed like no reason. You wanted to make him uncomfortable, make him know how much you loathed him. So you continued, “Jealous much? Can’t handle the fact that I outshine you without even trying?” 

Coriolanus was walking towards you before you even had a chance to move out of the way, his large body caging you in between himself and the marble counter. His hand went to your jaw, the contact of his fingertip on your skin making you heat up, a small fire burning in your chest. His grip was so hard that you were sure that it would leave a bruise. Your eyes widened, pupils blown out from the contact. You hadn’t expected for him to do this, you hated how much you liked it. How you wondered if he was this rough when he was doing other things. 

He didn’t say anything for a moment, seemingly liking the way that your doe eyes widened and looked at him, like you were a deer caught in the headlights. But his mouth opened, “You don’t know anything about me.” 

Which was, for the record, very true. You didn’t know anything about Coriolanus Snow because he seemed so keen on keeping things a secret. You didn’t know about his home life, the only thing you knew about him was what he was showing to you now, that he had a dark side that was starting to leak out of the cracks of his perfected persona. You gave a smile, a vile, venomous one that was meant to catch him off guard. “Yeah? So tell me, Coriolanus Snow, what don’t I know? Please, enlighten me.” 

He wished that you would just shut the fuck up. He wanted to put his hand around your throat and choke you until you lost consciousness, so that he could feel like he would be rid of all the sickening thoughts about you for just one moment. He thought about leaving right now, leaving while he still had some dignity left. But Coriolanus was not one to back down from a challenge, and he certainly wasn’t one to lose the upper hand. He was in control, he had to keep his control. There was no way in hell that he would let you think differently. 

The way he kissed you was bruising, like he was trying to make a mark on you forever. His teeth grazed against your lips, biting and nipping enough to almost draw blood. Coriolanus was all consuming, His one hand staying on your jaw while the other one came to wrap around your throat, disregarding his earlier thoughts and instead only squeezing a little bit, pulling you closer to him. His hips pushed into your own, you could feel his bulge through his trousers, a smirk fell on your face before he was quick to wipe it off by pushing you so much into the counter that you jumped on top of it, opening your legs and allowing him to slot in between them. 

Your hands came and wrapped in his hair, pulling on the locks of goldenness that you had only fantasized before in your dreams. They were soft, just like you imagined, and the way that you pulled on them had him groaning into your mouth, his lips leaving yours to kiss harshly against your jawline, down your neck, and onto the part of your collarbone that was exposed from your dress shirt. Teeth pressing against the soft skin that connected your jaw to your neck. You sighed out, hands moving down to his torso and surrendering into his touch as if saying do anything to me, anything you’d like.

And he did, because the second he heard that sigh come from your pretty pink lips he was determined to explore every part that he could of your body. He paid extra attention to your neck, sucking just under your chin, earning a soft moan on your part at the feeling. Your hips pressed against his and each of you breathed out, liking that feeling more than anything in the world. You hated how pliant you were in his hands, something you never thought would happen in a million years with Coriolanus Snow. And yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, instead pulling his head closer to your body and allowing for one of his hands to slip under your dress shirt, palm pressing against your left breast. He liked you like this, so perfectly obedient and compliant. He was going to enjoy ruining you. 

His hands pushed your pants down along with your panties, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You felt insecure, instinctually closing your legs away from him. He tutted, shaking his head and taking both of his hands to spread your legs open in front of him. He stood there looking at the curve of your hips and the apex of your thighs, eyes landing on your wet center. you looked down at him while he did nothing, only staring at you. You were completely vulnerable, insides screaming for him to just touch you. He seemed to want to take his time, from the way that his hand came and rested on the inside of your thigh while his eyes looked at your face gauging for a reaction. 

“What do you want, an instruction book?” You asked him, the brattiness and defiance in your tone that should’ve made him angry instead made him chuckle. His hand continued to reach further until his thumb pressed against your clit, making you groan at the feeling, your legs wrapping around his clothed waist. He was still completely clothed while you were completely pantsless. The bastard. He slid a singular finger into you, knowing that it would be enough to satisfy you for now, but it wasn’t enough. 

“Coriola-” 

A knock on the door made you both stop what you were doing. A voice was heard on the other end, it was your friend, wondering if you were okay since you had been in there for a while. “Y-yes! It’s fine,” You lied. “I’m just not feeling very well, I’ll be out soon!” You heard footsteps receding, and you turned your attention back to Coriolanus, who was looking down at you with a smirk. His finger was still buried in you, your pussy squeezing around his finger, wishing that he would move it. He seemed to understand what you wanted, his finger beginning to pump in and out, his thumb still pressed against your clit. The feeling was searing, something you weren’t even sure could just be described by words. 

His finger curled up in a come here motion and you almost screamed, biting your lip so that you wouldn’t give him the pleasure of knowing he had such an effect over you. He could see through your bullshit quite clearly, pushing another two fingers into you and not moving. Coriolanus had three fingers in you that he wasn’t moving, watching you squirm against his hand to create some kind of pleasure. but with his other hand he held your hips down, keeping you from moving at all. 

“I want to hear you beg for it.”

“For fucks sake, Coriolanus,” you said, eyes opening to look at him. 

His chest pressed against your own as he leaned in, “Beg. or I’ll leave you to finger fuck yourself.”

For a moment you thought that you weren’t going to do it, mostly because of your pride and ego. the pleasure that awaited you took over though and you opened your mouth to say, “please, Coriolanus. Fuck me with your fingers. Stretch me out. I need you.” your cheeks burned in embarrassment at your words, knowing that he would never let you live that down. 

“Good girl.”

He spared not a moment more, fingers setting at an unbelievably fast pace as they pumped in and out of you. His thumb massaged figure eights on your clit and you knew that you weren’t going to last long. Your head arched back, feeling him hit your g spot every single time his fingers fucked into you. Soon enough you were cumming, opening your eyes and seeing blurry vision. He kept pumping his fingers, mouth finding home on your neck to give you more marks, perfect petals like a perfect rose. You didn’t know how you were going to be able to hide all of them.

You took a minute to catch your breath and for that moment he wasn’t touching you at all made you miss his touch more than you were willing to admit. You heard the sound of pants unzipping and soon enough Coriolanus was in between your legs, this time his cock in his hands as he pumped lazily. He was big, you thought to yourself. Of course he was, considering all he had done with you so far, he was just preparing for you to be almost speared open by his cock. Incoherent words spilled from your lips, all different forms of begging for him to just push it in, and he finally gave you the satisfaction, the tip of his cock pressing into your entrance. Coriolanus pushed all the way in, inch by agonizingly slow inch, his own eyes falling shut at the feeling of your warmth around him. 

Once he bottomed out, he pulled out, pushing back in. You hissed at the feeling, not all the way used to the feeling of him stretching you out but loving it anyways. He buried himself into you like he owned you and you loved it. His hands came to your hips and thrusted in and out with such force that your whole body moved with every single rut into you. He shed no mercy, hitting that one spot every single time mercilessly. 

Your hands fumbled to touch him, anywhere you possibly could. Eventually you made your way to his back, fingernails digging into his skin enough to probably draw blood from underneath the white button up that he was wearing. You scratched up and down, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. Your breasts bounced up and down with every thrust from underneath your shirt, your mouth opened slack. The heat in the room was almost unbearable, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

He grabbed your thigh and hoisted it up, moaning at the new angle that he hit within you. Your eyes teared up with the pleasure that coursed through you, once again about to hit that brink once again. You were already pretty sensitive from the previous orgasm. His name sounded so pornographic coming from you that he tried his best to remember how it sounded. It was unlike anything he had ever felt in his life. You looked so fucking good taking him like this. He felt as if he had everything he ever wanted in the palm of his hands. And he was making you feel good, better than anyone ever had before. 

This drove his pride, thrusting animal like into you to take you to that peak again. He wanted to make you cum again. And you did, after about three thrusts from him, each one pulling out all the way and pushing in with force. his hand slipped down to rub your clit in figure eights and you came with a yell of his name into his shoulder, biting down on the fabric to try and muffle some of it so that passersby wouldn’t hear what was going on inside the bathroom. Not even two thrusts after, he was cumming, a low groan eliciting from his lips while his body stalled slightly on top of you. Each of your skins were drenched with sweat that you two almost stuck to each other. He pulled your face to meet his own and gave you a quick peck, and continued this all the way down your neck then stopping to bury his face into the crook of your neck, composing himself. 

He didn’t pull out, not right away, thinking that he had gotten all that he wanted. 

And there was no way that he could let you go now. 

taglist ;

@obaewankenobis ; @slyhersophia ; @narcissistic-siren ; lmk if you want to be added.

[sohnric]

plot twist – k. sunwoo

pairing: kim sunwoo x gn! reader

genre: coworkers au, enemies to lovers au. fluff, a poor attempt at comedy. movie theatre! worker sunwoo and reader. bitch boy sunwoo. the reader has anger issues. owner's son! sunwoo being annoying about everything. winter themes, sunwoo is a little kid about stuff but mostly the snow.

wc: 21k

warnings: swearing, a heated make out session. y/n's inner monologue is just my own feelings about this man im sorry. i watched too much of the office when writing this can you tell. also i made sunwoo's sister underage for plot reasons deal with it.

working with kim sunwoo has so far been the worst experience of your whole entire life. just his existence alone is enough to make your day completely miserable– though, one would think that working with movies on the daily would prepare you for the biggest plot twist of your life.

a/n: this took me SO LONG to write woah. i have a humble playlist for this fic if any of yall wanna listen to it while you read <3 a huge thank you goes to my best friend @csenke for being my biggest motivator and hype man when it came to this fic. thank u for being my first ever beta reader hihi i couldn't have done this without you i am forever grateful ily. also im tagging @heemingyu because whe told me to

ho ho ho! this fic is a part of the secret santa event by @deoboyznet ! @kimsohn maya, i was your secret santa this year, i hope you enjoy the fic i prepared for you

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – UGLY TRUTH (2009)

If anyone ever asked you about your job in the movie theater, you wouldn’t really know what to say. 

You see, what may had seemed like your dream job when you were little, acquiring the fairytale vision after going to the cinema for the first time to see the Horton movie when you were just 7, quickly turned into reality one ordinary day during your junior year of university. And it wasn’t even that hard; you just dropped off your CV at the movie theater on the corner of the town's square when you saw the sign that said ‘looking for part-timers’ in a messy, giant handwriting on the glass door– and soon enough, you found yourself in the depths of the vintage-looking cinema, wearing the red uniform the owner gave you, selling movie tickets to teenagers and taking out the trash. It’s hard to enjoy the job when you’re on bathroom cleaning duty, though, and the fact that this is what you once imagined to be the most exciting job in the whole entire world turns twice as boring when you realize just how mundane it really is. 

Still, you can’t bring yourself to quit, well, because you need the money.

Do you hate working in the cinema? No. Not really. Sure, it’s kind of boring– especially on the nights when you’re selling tickets at the front and nobody comes in for hours– but it’s not that difficult. It’s not physically or mentally demanding, so you’d say that you’re still on the better end when it comes to work environment. Your boss isn’t a dick and you get paid on time– so really, if anyone asked you if you hated it, your answer would be no. 

Until one fateful day, of course. 

You’re met with a person that’s going to efficiently change this opinion around in one swift bat of their eyelashes and a drag of their hand through their messy hair.

“So… you’re the new part-timer?” a tall boy asks you one day when you arrive at work. You’re already wearing your uniform when you come through the front door– since you don’t really feel like changing in the toilets that are not staff-exclusive here– and frankly, his voice startles you on your way in.

“Yeah,” you nod, furrowing your brows at the stranger. “And you are…?”

“Sunwoo,” the boy says, matter-of-factly, as if you’re supposed to know who exactly he is now that he’s introduced himself to you. The look on your face may show that you’re still clueless, and see, that’s something that must have played with the boy’s ego. “Kim Sunwoo,” he snickers, “the owner’s son..?”

Blinking a few times, trying to remember if Mr Kim’s ever told you about having a son– he hasn’t– you gasp like a fish on the dry, nodding. “Oh… Hello..?” you mumble, not really knowing what to do with the information.

“Hi,” he says, face stone cold and motionless. Something’s wrong, but you can’t quite put your finger on it…. 

Well, you’ll have to deal with that later. “My shift starts in 5 minutes, so I gotta find Mr- your dad, and ask him what’s on my to-do list today, but it was nice meeting you,” you try to force out a polite (maybe even warm) smile before you turn on your heel and march towards the staff room, where Mr Kim usually resigns unless he is helping you out with something at the front. See, on not busy days, working at the cinema requires only one person. On Fridays, though, it can get tough. That’s when the owner makes the popcorn while you both sell and scan the tickets at the same time– sometimes you wonder why he doesn’t hire another person to help out with the job.

“Wait– newbie–”

The nickname startles you, again, as you turn around and squint at him. You have a name– and although he has no way of knowing it (other than his father telling him, but seeming that you didn’t even know about his son, Mr Kim isn’t big on sharing information)– but still, you’d love to be called by it. “It’s Y/N, actually.”

“Oh, right…” he hums, “well, Y/N, dad’s not here tonight, so… I’m… kind of in charge,” he says, nodding as he gets the words out, trying to prove his point, “he had other things to take care of, so he sent me down instead,” he explains, watching as your face morphs into one of quick understatement.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he nods, sucking on his teeth.

Thick silence overtakes the atmosphere. You feel awkward and out of place.

“So…?” you hum, waiting for him to tell you what to do. 

Because a guy your age ordering you around at work is already embarrassing enough for a university student just trying to pay for their groceries. You’re not gonna ask for the orders yourself. You still have some dignity.

“So… I could take the ticket booth and you can clean the screening room, since there are no movies on tonight?” he suggests, rocking on his heels. The boy seems a bit shaken with the new sense of responsibility, but you figure that even his undoubtful awkwardness still doesn't put you above his position.

You mentally sigh. Cleaning is your least favorite part of the job. 

Still, you’re not gonna talk back to your boss’ son. You’d like to keep your job for a while longer. At least until you find something better.

“Alright,” you nod, turning on your heels once more and preparing to disappear into the depths of the cinema.

His voice stops you again, though, frustration flowing through your veins. “Don’t forget to mop the floors! Oh, and the bathroom could use a clean as well.”

“Alright,” you nod again, your back facing him.

“Also, you need to get the gum off the chairs, I know it’s kind of disgusting, but there’s a-”

“I know how to do my job, thank you,” you turn, smiling ironically over your shoulder.

You don’t know what it is about the man that makes you so, so incredibly irritated. Maybe it’s the fact that every bit of information coming out of his mouth sounds like he’s mansplaining everything to you. Maybe it’s the fact that you feel humiliated to be told what to do by a man that’s your age. Or maybe, it’s just the sheer fact that you hate cleaning– the one thing he just told you to do.

Still, you go and get the vacuum. You go and mop the floors, you go and take the gum off the chairs and scrape it into a bucket you keep in the pantry in the back. You go and clean the bathroom, even though it’s 10 minutes until the end of your shift (you only work 4 hours on Wednesdays) and you spent almost your whole day cleaning the whole screening room by yourself (the screening room that’s giant and Mr Kim helps you with on most days). You go and wipe the mirror in the bathroom, as well as the windows in the hall. 

You say that your work in the cinema is not physically demanding, but by the time you’re out, your back hurts and your knees are all bruised up from getting on the ground so often.

What really sets you off, though, is the sight of the owner’s son sitting in the booth, both legs up on the table and chewing on something, his phone in his hands as he watches, what you presume from the language resonating from the speaker, a silly anime. At least someone had fun during their shift, you think as you leave without saying goodbye to him, slamming the door behind you with a loud bang on your way out.

Quite frankly, you didn’t know what set you off so bad this time. Maybe you just had a bad day. Maybe it could've been fixed with your next shared shift with the guy– you never know.

Little did you know that it was only going to get worse from now on, though.

TONIGHT'S PREMIERE – PALM SPRINGS (2020)

If you knew your boss’s son would play the role of your supervisor from time to time, you probably wouldn't have taken the job when it was offered to you. 

Why?

The reason is quite simple– while you go to work to make money, Kim Sunwoo goes to work to make your whole life a living hell. Ranging from always giving you the more difficult task of the day to making unfunny jokes about your performance (he once asked if you ran a marathon after you mopped the whole hall, his grinning figure staring at you from inside of the ticket booth), you’re starting to think that Kim Sunwoo is mentally stuck with the brain of an 11-year old boy. 

More so with his recent endeavors. You don’t really know what he’s trying to achieve with all of this, but you’re starting to despise going to work even when you know he’s not on the schedule– somehow, you’re afraid his silly pranks and jokes will follow you and surprise you even when he’s not present. Is this his way of asserting dominance? You really don’t know.

It all starts one day before a movie premiere when Sunwoo walks up to you and introduces you to a new concession item to sell in the snack booth. While you don’t really know why one would even think of new combinations to sell at a cinema, since everyone’s just gonna get popcorn or nachos, you don’t really question the idea much further– Sunwoo’s father owns this place, so he must know the best marketing strategies for his business. The reality only downs on you when you’re forced to promote the “Ultimate movie mix” to every customer– which wouldn’t even be that strange, if the mix didn’t include the weird combination of pickles and candy. 

Running on two all nighters and half an energy drink, you didn’t realize the snack stand doesn’t even hold pickles. You were notified the day after by your boss, though, and that wasn’t your best experience.

The terror follows when Sunwoo’s father decides to run a Star Wars marathon one weekend. The flood of customers wouldn’t be as hard to manage when you run the snack stand, but it does get more difficult when your coworker running around with a lightsaber knocks over all the buckets of freshly-made popcorn you just put on the counter for the customers to take. 

He doesn’t even say sorry. Or help clean the spilled popcorn up from the floor. Or help you make a new batch. 

He just laughs.

Sunwoo just loves to laugh at you. Like that one time he made you wear a giant popcorn costume and stand in front of the cinema for the entirety of your 4 hour shift on Wednesday to promote the new movie airing on Friday. Hardly anyone took the fliers you were desperately trying to force into their hands and when you came back, you saw Sunwoo pointing his camera at you from the big glass window. 

The next shift, his dad asked you how Sunwoo did when promoting the movie. You didn’t have the heart to tell him he forced you to do the dirty business instead.

Another time, Sunwoo informs you via text in the middle of your shift that you should clean the bathrooms. The fact itself already makes you furious, but you follow the order nonetheless– because, well, what else can you do? You’re used to cleaning the toilets, since it’s a part of your job. It’s just the fact that a guy your age told you to that’s making you rethink all your career decisions.

The trip to the bathrooms quickly turns traumatizing when you step inside of the tiled room and have the door behind you close with a loud bang, followed by the light switching off. Screeching, you jump and try to escape the room with fear making your heart run faster than Usain Bolt, however, you find the door seemingly locked– the sound of Sunwoo’s snarky laugh coming from the other side making you recognise what just happened and how he’s pulling another one of his childish pranks on you again.

When the door finally opens, you throw the toilet brush into his chest and scream out a “I’m going to fucking quit if I see your face one more time!”. You’re over all formalities.

That doesn’t mean you’re not scared every time you enter a room in the cinema when you work with Sunwoo, though. Your reaction was strengthened very abruptly, you see.

Sitting in the ticket booth, door ajar to monitor your surroundings, you plop your head on your hand and glare at Sunwoo, chewing on your gum. If anyone saw you right now, they’d think you were trying to kill him with your stare, but the opposite would actually be the truth tonight– you were quite enjoying the sight of him wiping the sweat off his forehead and scowling at the neverending flow of customers.

The beauty of having ticket booth duty on premiere night is that everyone bought the tickets beforehand already, meaning that it wasn’t usually busy. Scanning the tickets and running the snack booth were the more difficult parts of the shift, and since Mr Kim decided to show up to work today, Sunwoo was graced with the snack booth duty– something that warmed you up from the inside and made you want to kiss your boss’s feet in gratefulness. 

There’s just something about seeing Kim Sunwoo in misery that makes your stomach turn and do cartwheels. You’re in love with his pathetic, tired face.

His eyes meet yours when he takes a moment to breathe– the look behind them is pleading, almost embarrassingly hopeless as he internally wishes he was in your place. You think this serves him right for the weeks of torture, and when he becomes you to come over with a motion of his hand, you just shrug at him and bat your eyelashes in faked innocence. 

It’s not your fault he’s on duty tonight. What does he want with you?

His lips mouth “Come here,” which makes you battle a satisfied smile. Poor Kim Sunwoo is helpless in his task. The rush just won’t stop and he’s asked of more than he can handle. You kind of feel sadistic when you truly think about your sentiments, but you think you’re only valid for feeding on his misery.

“Help!” he mouths again, and now you truly can’t battle the laughter anymore. His hair is tousled and sticking to his forehead. His uniform is dirty. The tie around his neck is loose. The sight makes you utterly satisfied.

As he mouths “Please,” accompanied by clasped hands and a pleading look that would work on most women, you finally decide to stand up from the uncomfortable chair in the ticket booth and shake your head in disbelief. You can’t even count how many times Sunwoo left you alone in the rush before a premiere, but you can’t really risk his father finding out you didn’t come to rescue his beloved son, since however you might hate this job, you still can’t lose it in your current living conditions.

Sighing and closing the door to the ticket booth after you, your legs take you to the snack stand. Eyes of enthusiastic customers looking almost high on coca cola and the smell of salted popcorn are on you when you finally reach Sunwoo’s side. 

“So I’m supposed to help you with your work whenever you ask, but when I’m left cleaning the whole theater completely alone, you can sit around and play on your phone?” you jab, annoyed with the turn of events. You find a spare apron and tie it around your waist, not really wanting to dirty your uniform as you pour caramel into some buckets of popcorn, hearing your companion chuckle next to you.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Okay, so I’ll be back in the ticket booth after serving this customer-”

“My dad’s watching.”

“This is blackmailing,” you snap back, smiling ironically at your coworker.

Sunwoo grins at you when he hands two cokes to the teenage girls behind the counter, shrugging to himself. “Not my problem.”

You learned long ago that fighting with Kim Sunwoo is a battle you can never win. Logically, you know you’re always right, but the boy always thinks he should have the last word in everything, which makes ending an argument with him pretty much impossible. That’s why you stopped trying to prove your truth. In your heart, you know how it is, and no amount of snarky remarks from the feisty boy will change your opinion.

You two work alongside each other in silence for some time. You’d even say it’s efficient– you make the popcorn and he makes the nachos, both of you taking turns behind the coca cola machine, and after a few minutes in his proximity when he’s not being the butt of the Earth, your brain starts to question why you two can’t operate like this on a daily basis.

Oh, how foolish of you.

You’re quickly brought back to reality when you walk over with the grande size bucket of popcorn towards the counter, meeting halfway with Kim Sunwoo’s chest.

It takes everything in you not to scream, but the restraint is deleted as soon as you feel something cold dripping down the front of your uniform, your white button-up suddenly sticking towards your chest in a big, dark-brown pool around your waist area. One sharp look into his eyes is everything it takes you two to come to a mutual understanding of what your next action is gonna be– Sunwoo quickly puts the now empty cup of coca cola onto the counter and puts a hand towards his head in self-disappointment.

“Kim Sunwoo, are you fucking incompetent?!” you scream out, the sensation of your cold shirt sticking to your already sweaty skin making you want to crawl out of yourself and scratch your coworker’s eyes out with the claws of the demon he wakes up in you.

“Look, you don’t have to-”

“I just washed this yesterday, there’s a line of people waiting for their snacks up to the fucking front door, you just ruined the popcorn I made so now I have to redo it, and you just decide to spill this onto me?!” you continue with your rampage, not really caring about the eyes of everyone on you, just letting out all your built-up frustration that creeps inside of you every time you see his face.

“As if I did this on purpose…” he grunts as he turns around in his place and reaches for napkins, not really putting much thought into his actions as he presses the material into the damp place sticking to your skin. 

The image startles you– Kim Sunwoo almost in physical contact with you, a paper napkin soaking up some of the coca cola flooding the surface of your skin– and as you watch his slender palms run over your front, your eyes falling to the fluffy hair at the crown of his head, you feel heat rushing to your insides, making you jump away from him.

“Sorry-” he mumbles out as you forcefully pry the napkin out of his hand, gritting your teeth.

“I’m starting to think you’re making me do everything just because you’re useless,” you spit at him.

Rolling his eyes, Sunwoo pokes his cheek with the tip of his tongue. “It was an accident.”

“Don’t care,” you grunt, walking away from the booth, “I’m going to change in the back, you better not burn the place down with the popcorn machine before I’m back,” you comment, sending him a sharp glare over your shoulder.

All that accompanies you to the staff room is Sunwoo’s loud sigh and a sugary-sweet tone he offers to one of the customers as he throws the ruined popcorn into the trash. “I’ll be right with you, miss!” 

If anyone asked you if you hated your job now, you think you’d say yes.

Who are you kidding?

You’d definitely say yes.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE HATING GAME (2021)

You were quite pleased on your way to work today. It’s Wednesday, which usually means it’s not as busy. The weather is cloudy– good enough to not make you gloomy, but not quite sunny enough to make you wish you were outside instead of being stuck in the cinema the whole afternoon– and you packed a home-made sandwich with you to eat on your lunch break. Which is whenever, since you’re on ticket booth duty today– another great news. 

The best thing about today, though? Kim Sunwoo isn’t working today. 

That alone is good enough to make your whole entire day better. The sun shines brighter, your breathing is lighter, the air is clearer and the birds chirp louder when you know you don’t have to interact with the hellspawn that day. It’s like his absence alone is enough to heal all your wounds and delete all your worries– who cares about the fact that you’re barely getting through your Biology class when you know you won’t have to stare at Sunwoo’s face as you contemplate dropping out of university during your shift? 

Maybe you should thank him, in a way.

And with all of this knowledge, a smile plastered on your face as you’re prepared to sit through your 5-hour shift in silence with an occasional swipe through your social media and a well deserved chicken-mayo sandwich towards the end of your shift, it’s quite natural for your smile to freeze and your spirit fall the moment you see the mop of dark brown hair walk through the doors of the cinema. 

“What the fuck is he doing here?” you mourn as he walks by, only realizing you said the sentence out loud when the boy looks at you with a scowled face, a scoff escaping his throat.

“Didn’t know we were speaking to each other in third person now,” he says as he stops in his tracks and plops his head into the door to your booth, infesting your calm abode with his presence.

Deep breaths. In and out, Y/N. In and out… 

“Hello to you too, Y/N,” he smiles, irony dripping off his tongue, “having a good day so far?”

“It was better without you here, thank you,” you snap back, rolling your eyes at him when his eyes flash with something akin to a victory– it seems you both take joy in making the other one absolutely miserable with your presence.

“Sweet,” he nods on his way out, grinning to himself. “Well, I won’t be long, so don’t let your mood drop too much.”

With that, he’s out of the ticket booth. All that’s left behind him is the smell of his cologne– the tingle of lemon and bergamot filling your nostrils in a way that makes the fine hair at the back of your neck stand up all alert– and silence. It makes you wonder about his whereabouts– you can never know… what if he’s setting up a trap for you somewhere? You wouldn’t be half surprised. You make a mental note to yourself to be twice as cautious when going to the bathroom next time. Just to make sure.

Before you’re able to think of any possible situations that Sunwoo could get himself caught in (while completely ignoring the fact that his father is somewhere in his office in the back– for all you know, he might just need to talk to your boss, like a son does sometimes), the woodworm of your thoughts appears in your view again, two rolled-up tubes under his shoulder as he walks over to the front door.

“Wait! What are those?” you ask, eyes zeroing on the very clear posters in his grip. The shiny white back of the big posters you have to sometimes put up in the front of the cinema are unmistakable to anything else.

“Posters,” Sunwoo replies, calling over his shoulder, already halfway out of the building. 

“I know what those are–”

“Then why are you asking?” he huffs, shaking his head in disbelief as he takes a few steps towards the ticket booth, eyes meeting yours. His figure fills the door frame as he towers over you, still sitting on the chair. His eyes have a different kind of twinkle in them– you think, no, you know it’s mischief– making the blood in your veins boil at deadly temperatures.

“Because– well,” you huff, already frustrated, “we’re not allowed to take these,” you say, pointing to the two posters under his shoulder like a kid in the candy store. You try to ignore just how embarrassing you must look right in this moment.

“Oh,” he pouts, taking the posters from below his shoulder, unraveling one of them and resting the other one against the doorframe, “so you’re telling me… I can’t take those two amazingly big, shiny, cool posters of the latest Spiderman movie home for me and my friend Juyeon?” 

You’re only half-aware of the fact that he’s teasing you right now, sighing at his innocent face. “No, Sunwoo. You can’t.”

“Hm,” he hums, looking at the poster from top to the bottom, seemingly sad about the news, “that’s terrible. Says who?”

“Your… your father, Sunwoo. He told me when I asked him the other day if I could take–”

“You wanted to take posters home from the cinema?” he gasps, looking at you with big eyes. He looks stupid. So, terribly stupid. Dumb. No thought behind his eyes. You want to smash his head against a concrete wall. 

…He’s teasing you. It finally dawns on you.

Now, you want to smash your head against a concrete wall.

Still, you admit defeat with a solemn tone in your voice. “Well, I really wanted the Enola Holmes poster to put up in my bedroom…” you mumble.

“And my dad said no?” he asks, eyebrows quirking up towards his hairline.

“Yes, Sunwoo. Your father said it’s prohibited to take posters home from the cinema, that’s exactly why I’m stopping you right now,” you say, tone filled with annoyance. You know he’s enjoying your face full of misery. But still, if there’s one thing you’re good at, it’s following the rules and orders– if Mr Kim says you can’t take the posters home, you’ll go in the back and tear them into pieces before throwing them into the bin like you’re told to. 

If things were going your way, you’d advise Sunwoo to do the same. 

A day with Kim Sunwoo in it never goes your way, though. You should’ve been prepared.

“So I can’t take those posters home because my dad said no?” he clarifies, looking like a dummy. Like one of those kids that ask the most obvious questions during exams. Like one of those kids you want to sucker punch in the face.

“Sunwoo–”

“Well, Y/N-ie,” he purrs, the nickname making your hands curl up in fists, “that’s too bad… because I am the owner’s son, so… the rules don’t really apply to me, you see.”

And with that, he sends another sickeningly sweet smile your way before he turns on his heel and marches towards the front door again– not responding to any of your annoyed, infuriated calls of his name. He doesn’t stop at your warnings. He doesn’t care.

And just like that, he disappears just as fast as he appeared. The interaction didn’t last more than 10 minutes, but you consider your whole day ruined.

Fucking Sunwoo and his fucking privileges. And his fucking annoying face. 

It’s not even that important. It’s just two posters that would get thrown out to the dumpster in the back at the end of your shift anyway. You don’t even care about those posters in particular– you just with equal rules applied to all workers in the workplace.

It’s not like Spiderman Homecoming is one of your favorite movies… not at all.

You could’ve had that poster. You deserved that poster. You sold tickets for it and served the snack booth when it premiered– not Kim Sunwoo and whatever his friend’s name was.

You kick the wall with your sneaker. It leaves a dirty mark.

You should’ve known the day felt too good to be true.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING (1993)

There’s a new thing Mr Kim is trying to lure more customers into the cinema. He calls it ‘Rewind Thursdays’, where he picks a movie from the past and airs it in the theater again to bring out nostalgia in the whole town. You think it’s a good idea– you remember when the Harry Potter movies had a rerun back when you were little, ecstatic that you finally got to see them in the cinema because you missed out on the experience when they were coming out for the first time. You went even though you saw them all before, and you had a blast. So in your books, this was the best thing that could happen to the little, old movie theater on the corner of the town’s square.

You were overbeared with joy when Mr Kim went up to you during one of your slow Wednesday shifts in the ticket booth with a paper and a pen, requesting you to write down your favorite movies. He informed you that he’d prefer it if they were older, to, quote, really get the nostalgia going, and you were happy to have some say in the list of movies to play for multiple reasons. One, because it meant he valued your opinion, and two, you don’t usually work on Thursdays, so if your favorite movie is on that day, you can go and relax in the cinema while watching it.

This all happened a few weeks ago. You gave the list back to your boss at the end of your shift, smiling brightly just thinking about it, and he told you he’ll get through it and see what he can incorporate. 

The plan gets to you on one uneventful Wednesday. You are stuck in the ticket booth again. Today is one of the Wednesdays where Sunwoo is in charge, because Mr Kim is out of town. You hate those days most of them all, but recently, he’s been giving you your freedom and letting you work in the ticket booth instead of cleaning the already clean cinema, saying he has stuff to do in the back. You suspect he just sits around in his father’s office with his legs on the table, chewing on his obnoxious strawberry mints. The image makes you furious only the tiniest bit, because the fact that he’s out of your sight and isn’t ordering you around is enough to calm your nerves. It could always be worse, you remind yourself. It could always be worse.

“I have the schedule of ‘Rerun Thursdays’ all done,” Sunwoo says as he walks up to the ticket booth close to the end of your shift. His eyes look a little tired when he holds up a thick card to you, the design of the poster making your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Did he do that?

“It’s ‘Rewind Thursdays’, actually,” you note, pointing towards the very obvious mistake on the top of the poster.

“Oh fuck– you know what, not anymore,” he scowls, taking the poster back from you and pointing glares at the title he mistyped, “I spent 3 hours on this, I’m not remaking it.”

“It looks like a kindergartener did it,” you note, eyes scanning the bubbly font and the orange-yellow combination used throughout the whole design when he offers the paper back to you. It looks like a Winnie the Pooh convention is taking place instead of an event full of nostalgic movies, and you would tell him that, but he beats you to it with a tired remark.

“Well, if my father wanted this to look professional, he should’ve hired someone to do it,” he mutters, obviously hurt by your harsh words, “I used Canva. I don’t know how Photoshop works and my dad can barely operate the computer, so this is what we’re going with, okay?” he says as he explains, big eyes suddenly bearing into yours. “Unless you wanna redo it yourself…?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then this is the final poster,” he says, “I’m gonna hang those outside when we close,” he notes, watching you scan the movie titles. The event will take place in 4 weeks from the middle of November to the middle of December (right in time for Christmas movies to air, since you’re certain Mr Kim has another Christmas-themed business tactic up his sleeve). 

“Did any of your movies make it?” Sunwoo asks, surprisingly friendly. You can’t remember a single casual conversation with the male– all you two do it either give each other the silent treatment or scream at each other (more like you scream at him, but he always deserves it…), so you’re kind of surprised at the change. Not pleasantly surprised. Just surprised.

Eyes falling to the second movie on the list, you feel yourself nodding as you smile. It’s like a dream come true– you can finally see your favorite movie in the cinema for the first time. You don’t know who to thank for this miracle, but something in your insides feels very grateful. 

“Yeah,” you say, trying to seem unaffected. You’d rather kill yourself than to show any signs of emotion in front of Kim Sunwoo. All he deserves to see is your stone cold face.

“Which one?” he asks, seemingly interested.

“National treasure,” you hum, pointing to the movie on the list, having Sunwoo nod to himself. You expect him to say something to you– perhaps engage in a conversation like a normal person would– but suddenly, he gasps and takes out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket, offering it to you and playing the role of the manager again.

“Oh, by the way,” he starts, watching as you unfold the paper, “I know we don’t usually work on Thursdays, but since my dad decided to do all of this, we kinda have to, since he wouldn’t be able to handle the premieres on his own, so… Here's your schedule for the next 4 weeks,” he says, clasping his hands together in front of him.

It takes everything in you to not correct the male and tell him that those are technically not premieres, but when your eyes land on the little Excel table Sunwoo printed out for you, the feeling is overpowered with one of deep disappointment.

“I work the second week?” you ask, as if the question might magically change the schedule.

“I mean, I think you can read…” Sunwoo hums, shrugging to himself.

A heartbeat passes by of you staring at the schedule, a pit opening in your stomach at the realization. You only work 2 Thursdays out of 4, noticing the fact that you rotate with Sunwoo (with him somehow taking the first week, much to your surprise), but for some reason, one of those days had to be the day when National treasure is on. 

And sure, you might think this is good– you can just watch the movie while you work! 

Wrong.

Working means either staying in the ticket booth the whole time in case a customer comes, working the snack booth the whole time in case a customer comes, or cleaning the bathrooms. Working means also standing in front of the screening room sometimes, making sure no one is going in without a ticket in the middle of the movie. 

There is no time for you to watch National treasure if you’re working. 

Sighing, you decide to do something you always prohibited yourself from doing– you ask Kim Sunwoo for a favor. “Listen… my favorite movie is airing the week I work, so I was… wondering if we could exchange shifts? So I could go and watch it?” you ask, looking at your coworker with what you presume are pleading eyes. You hope it works on the boy– he looks like the type to fold under a tender gaze.

“So you want to get out of work only to still come?” Sunwoo clarifies, snickering.

“Pretty much, yeah,” you nod, tapping your fingers on the table.

“Well, the schedule is set,” Sunwoo shrugs, “I can’t do anything about it.”

Eyes sending darts to the very middle of Kim Sunwoo’s forehead, you take a few calming breaths before you speak up again. You don’t want to blow up on him when you’re asking him for a favor– you don’t think this approach would help you much in the situation.

“Why?”

“Because,” he shrugs. 

“Because?” you repeat. “That’s the reason?” you say, a weak laugh dragging out of your throat.

“Pretty much, yeah,” he mirrors your previous response, the blood in your veins already growing hot from the confrontation.

“Sunwoo, you– come on,” you say, “just this once, please? I’ll take the first week. We can just switch, what’s the difference?” 

Sunwoo tongues the inside of his cheek, eyes pointing towards the paper. “Schedule is schedule, Y/N. You have to follow it,” he says, an innocent look glazing his big fuckass boba eyes. Oh how you despise that look. It’s the look that tells you he finds this all so, so amusing, but won’t laugh in your face in hopes of teasing you some more. 

“Oh, amazing,” you say, throwing the schedule to the table, “I knew I could always count on you ruining my day, Kim Sunwoo. And I bet you did the schedule as well! You knew it was my favorite movie, so you made me work that week. Very nice of you, you dumbass. Thank you very much,” you grunt, annoyance flowing through your brain and making you truly merciless– you have no proof of Sunwoo even knowing which movie of yours made it in, or proof of him making the schedule– you don’t care, though. All you want at this moment is to claw his eyes out and pop them in between your fingers to ease the anger on your insides.

You can’t do that, though, so a screaming match will have to do the job.

“Stop being so dramatic,” he scoffs, eyebrows furrowing. “I didn’t even know which one your favorite movie was, so how could I do this on purpose? Plus, I didn’t even make the schedule, my dad did–”

“As if I would believe that,” you roll your eyes, huffing. “You’re all owner’s son privileges this, owner’s son privileges that, but when I ask you for one thing, one! Single! Fucking! Thing! You can’t do it,” you bite, words dripping in spite.

“Look, I really can’t-”

“You can’t do this one thing for me?” you cut him off, the question sounding like an ultimatum.

“No,” he shakes his head, seemingly unaffected by the conversation.

“Because…?” you demand a valid reason.

“Because I just can’t,” he shrugs, casual and cool. 

The world stills for a moment. You calculate your next move. Blood rushes in your ears, you see red. Your eyes fall on the clock– it’s 4 minutes after your shift. That’s it.

You take your coat draped over the chair, stand up from the chair and dash towards the front door. You can’t stand being around this man any longer– all he does is bring misery into your otherwise, already boring life. 

Speedwalking out of the place, you yell out a harsh “Go fuck yourself!” over your shoulder, leaving Sunwoo to close the cinema by himself. You don’t even change out of your uniform before you go– your head is too clouded with anger to remember to do so. Cursing out your coworker isn’t the best thing you could do in this situation, more so when he’s the owner’s son, but suddenly, you don’t really care about losing your job at the cinema anymore.

Maybe you should quit yourself, actually.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS (2003)

In your books, there aren’t many things worse than working three days in a row. You can only think of so many even when you try hard enough: like going to school in your pajamas, getting sick on the day of an important event, ripping your pants on the metro, standing outside of the cinema in a popcorn costume for 4 hours… 

Yeah. Not too many.

So naturally, on the third day of your work week, putting one sweetened coffee into your stomach after another, barely keeping your head up from the lack of sleep you’re getting in between classes, work, and writing your essays until 3 in the morning, you beg god for a calm shift. It’s Wednesday, the first week of Mr Kim’s ‘Rewind Thursdays’ event, and it just so happened that you were set to work the first half of the week while Sunwoo got the other half. 

The only thing keeping you going is the fact that you and Sunwoo will now basically not see each other’s face for the next four weeks– with the exception of Fridays and Saturdays, the premiere days. You’re getting a lot of shifts this month, but hey… Christmas is coming. At least you’ll have plenty of money to buy gifts for everyone this year. (Or not. You’re very underpaid.)

Entertaining yourself by watching the world outside of your window and mentally betting on the race of raindrops falling down the glass surface– because your phone battery almost ran out during class this morning and you forgot to bring your charger with you– you hope you don’t fall asleep right in this moment. Your boss is somewhere inside and if he oh just happens to check up on you (which he never normally does, but you can never be too sure), you’re certain you’d lose your job after taking a nap in the ticket booth. Some things just can’t be accepted. 

Cat fights with his son? Perfectly acceptable. Sleeping on the clock? Not so much…

Eyes drooping when the third raindrop race doesn’t go the way you bet on in your head, you figure you can just rest for a second or two… Eyelids shielding your irises from the orange hues of the lights inside, your brain already turning off and preparing a happy dream for you, you think that taking a nap is not such a bad idea right now…

Wrong.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” the noise of a thunder– actually, no, that was just someone’s voice– wakes you up and makes you jump in your chair, your knee hitting the bottom of the table making you hiss in sharp pain.

“Fuck, man–”

“Didn’t know taking a nap was in the job description,” Sunwoo grins at you through the glass window of the booth. His eyes twinkle in amusement as you drag your hand through your hair, trying to smoothe it down after tousling it in your weird sleeping position.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” you mutter, not even meeting his eye. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah… just had… my eyes closed…” you hum, scratching the back of your neck. Clearing your throat, you look back up at him with an disinterested look on your face. “Anyways, what do you want? You’re off today.”

Scanning his figure, fully taking in his appearance– the fabric of his dark gray hoodie a little stained with raindrops (you bet he ran from his car into the building without an umbrella. He seems like the type to be embarrassed about umbrellas.), the fabric of the garment enveloping his head and shading his face a little from the ugly yellow lights. His face is a little flushed– you presume it’s from the running– and his hair is falling into his face. You can barely see his eyes behind the curtain of chocolate locks– he really needs a trim.

“Damn, didn’t know you hated me so much that you can’t stand seeing me on my off days,” he jokes, leaning on the counter as if to stick his face as close as he can into yours. Thank god for the glass shielding you two– you think you’d give him a fist to the nose if you ever felt his breathing on your skin.

“I do,” you agree, impatiently drumming your fingers on the top of the table, “so tell me what you want so you can disappear again,” you say.

“I just went to check up on whether you were sleeping or not so I can tell my dad to fire you–”

“Kim Sunwoo–”

He puts his arms up defensively, eyebrows raising at your threatening tone. “Okay, not really. I don’t actually care that much. Besides, you promised to quit yourself anyway, so,” he explains, shrugging to himself, “believe it or not, I’m here to buy tickets for a movie.”

You shoot him a stare, the look in your eyes dead, stone cold as you ponder on his words. It’s cold outside, it’s raining, and Kim Sunwoo just happens to decide to buy tickets for a movie today. In a cinema that he works at. In a cinema that he works at tomorrow.

“You work tomorrow…?” you mirror your inner monologue, kind of confused at the turn of events.

“You know my schedule? I’m flattered–”

The irritation is slowly creeping into your bones again. Actually, it has been since he arrived, but the more he talks, the more agitating the whole encounter feels. Maybe you should tape his mouth shut the next time you see him– you bet the day would be so much better if you don’t have to listen to him talk. 

“Why don’t you just buy the tickets tomorrow when you work? Didn’t have to walk here in the rain,” you explain, sighing to prove just how annoyed you are with his presence.

“Because I kinda need them today,” he says, clarifying to you with the tone you use when you explain mundane things to a child.

You don’t know what he did in his past life to get the ability to annoy you each and every time you meet him, but you’d like some of it to get back at him in your next life. Why you’re even thinking of past lives and the possibility of meeting Kim Sunwoo in your next one, you’re not really certain, but if it helps you to not smash the glass separating you two, you guess you can get behind the thought process.

“Okay,” you nod, painfully calm for the amount of screaming you’ve been doing internally, “what movie?” you ask, turning your body to the computer on your right and breaking eye contact with him. If he’s a customer, you’re going to treat him like one– no small talk and no arguments. You won’t ruin your day even more over a man that doesn’t know what chapstick is. (You don’t stare at his lips, just for the record. It’s just painfully obvious when he talks. Sometimes you want to reach over and pluck away the dead skin with your fingers– you won’t, though. That would be weird.)

Sunwoo straightens his back as he fishes for his wallet in the front pocket of his jeans. “National Treasure,” he smiles, making you break into cold sweat, “two tickets, please.”

Like a scene in a horror movie, your head turns without moving the rest of your body, eyes twitching when you see him standing at the other side of the booth, calm and collected. Suddenly, the scene makes sense– he bought the tickets to see your favorite movie on the day of your shift. Of course. He just has to rub it in your face. 

Not only are you working that day. You will also most likely serve popcorn to him as he goes inside with whoever he is buying the second ticket for. And you will try not to trip him on his way inside the screening room.

It was a smart move for him to not go inside the ticket booth with you, even though he has all the right to. You bet he knows you’d claw his eyes out if you had the chance.

“You have to be kidding me.”

“What? I can’t buy tickets for a movie?” he asks, innocence dripping off his tongue.

Breathing deeply– while trying to contain the demon that’s begging to crawl out of your insides and tear him into 25 different pieces– you smile ironically at the male, gulping before you speak. “That would be 12 dollars, please,” you say, your customer service voice turning kind of eerie.

Not even letting the male choose his seats– he lost the privilege when he decided to come and buy the tickets for your favorite movie– you print out two tickets with the worst possible view (the ones in the first row, far right. If Sunwoo loses his neck because he has to look up at the screen for the entirety of the movie, well, who are you to hate that) and offer them to your coworker.

Like a mind game, the male slips them into his pocket without even looking at them, not breaking eye contact with you sitting behind the booth. 

“Have a nice day,” he says as he takes two steps back before fully turning and escaping through the front door, figure dashing towards the old Prius parked in front of the building.

Bawling your hands into fists, you try the breathing exercises you found the other week. Calm your body and your mind, the title said. You knew you’d need those when you saved the post into one of your boards on Pinterest.

Still, you can’t help yourself. You simply cannot. You let it out– it’s not healthy to keep negativity inside. 

He can’t hear you, but you still mutter a spiteful “I hope you choke,” under your breath as you settle back into the uncomfortable surface of the chair.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – YOU’VE GOT MAIL (1998)

Remember the time you said you didn’t really mind having more shifts in November, because it meant a bigger paycheck? Yeah… that was true. For a few days.

Until you got a phone call one day from none other than Kim Sunwoo– whose number you didn’t even want to save into your contacts, but after his insisting that it’s for work purposes, did so under the name ‘dumpster raccoon’– telling you that you have to get to work immediately, that his dad said so, and that it’s an emergency. 

Do you believe him? No. Absolutely not. 

His tone of voice was too calm to be in an emergency. If his dad wanted you to come to work today, he could’ve called you himself instead of making his son do it. And also, you really don’t know what’s so important to take care of on a Wednesday, since it’s the slow day of the week, but still– you angrily took off the facemask from your face before the timer even went off, shut your laptop with a half-watched episode of The office in your Netflix window, changed out of your comfy clothes and marched towards the cinema. 

Because you never know. He might be saying the truth, after all. And if that was the case, you didn’t want to be caught disobeying your boss.

You get to the old movie theater on the corner of the town center at 4 in the afternoon. The sky is already getting dark and you feel the coldness of November seeping into your bones, and so you waste no time in getting inside and chasing the heat of the vintage-looking interior. Your boots make a thudding sound as you walk across the hall, seeing Sunwoo sitting in the ticket booth in his usual habitat: with his phone in his hands and his feet up on the table, chewing on his favorite strawberry mints. Now this sight screams emergency if you’ve ever seen one.

“What was so important for you to call me to work and then chill in the ticket booth all afternoon?” you ask, spite slipping off your tongue with every word you speak. 

Sunwoo looks up at you from under his eyelashes, hair still slightly shielding his eyes. He doesn’t even have his uniform on– there’s a gray hoodie enveloping his torso (you swear he lives in this garment. You wonder if he even washes it sometimes) and black jeans hanging off his hips– and the more you stare at him, the more you feel like punching him in the face.

“Oh,” he hums, stretching out his limbs from the hours of sitting on the chair unmoving, “dad said to tell you to clean the screening room. Since it’s Thursday tomorrow, and all.”

The look on his face is innocent. He looks like he just told you the most casual piece of information– and truth be told, he kind of did. The whole thing is just not making any sense right now. 

“I should clean the screening room today? You’re on the clock, though, why don’t you do it?” you ask, frustration clearly written all over your face. You were looking forward to having a self-care day today, so you can only imagine how tired of his endeavors you are right in this moment. 

“Yeah, but I am on ticket booth duty, so I can’t,” he shrugs, frowning a little to prove his nonexistent point.

“It’s Wednesday. It’s not busy. You know you can do both.”

“Look, it’s not me, it’s my dad–”

“Is it? Is it, Sunwoo?” you huff, arms flying into the air. “Or are you just using me to do the work you don’t feel like doing? Because it really does seem like that right now,” you bite, running your hand through your hair in exasperation. 

“Do you want me to call him?” Sunwoo asks, tone of voice suddenly threatening. 

A heartbeat passes. You continue to have a staring contest with him. The fury inside of you rages like a storm. Still, you nod to the feeling of authority coming from your actual boss, and so you wordlessly turn on your heel and march towards the screening room, ready to clean the place in the least amount of time so you can go home and back to your selfcare endeavors. (You’re adding printing out Sunwoo’s face and throwing darts at it to the list of activities. You think you really need that right now.)

The screening room is dark when you come inside, and as you reach towards the lightswitch, you almost fear something jumping at you. See, the traumatic response from being locked up in the toilet from your coworker is still very present in your bones. When you stop working here, you’re going to ask for financial compensation for all the damage this boy did on your mental health.

You walk down the aisle of seats and try to inspect the damage. No movies air on Wednesday and there was only one kids movie going on Tuesday, so you can either expect it to be almost clean, or full of snacks that fell off the hands of grabby children during the cartoon. The more you inspect the place, though, the more it seems like… somebody already cleaned it before?

The floor is clean. The laminated surface under the seats has no smudge of dirt on it, like someone already mopped the place. And when you think back, the bins were empty as well.

The screening room was definitely cleaned before.

Which means that Sunwoo brought you here for absolutely nothing.

Suddenly, the lights go out. The whole room falls into darkness, and the anger inside of your veins very quickly mixes with panic as you try to climb up the stairs on the side of the screening room and escape. Your throat gets dry as you yell for your coworker, not really caring if your next outburst is going to get you fired or not.

“Kim Fucking Sunwoo, why the fuck did you call me to clean an already cleaned screening room?!” you yell, not really knowing if he hears you or not. Doesn’t matter– it feels cathartic to do so anyway.

Your feet stumble on the awkwardly-long stairs, your figure almost falling to the ground. Managing to hold yourself up and steady your body before your head hits the sharp corner of one of the stairs and makes you die, you continue on with your small tangent. “You really think this is funny? You’re having fun pranking me all the time? I hate your guts, Kim Sunwoo, and I hope you burn in hell!”

A bright light suddenly illuminates the screening room, coming from somewhere behind you. When you look over your shoulder, the screen is white for a few moments before the opening credits of a Jerry Buckheimer film flash on the big surface, halting you in your movements. The sound is a little too loud in the speakers, but it gets adjusted the moment you almost lose your hearing. The moment you see Nicolas Cage appear, it’s clear as day.

There’s a movie playing. And the movie playing is National treasure. 

You think you’re hallucinating. This is surely a fata morgana.

Standing in the middle of the screening room, your mouth hangs agape and your eyes go wide as you watch the first few scenes of the movie. Ben Gates already learns about the hidden treasure passed down through American history when you feel a slight nudge to your shoulder, making you turn your head to see a tall figure staring you down with a bucket of popcorn in their hands.

You are confused. So utterly confused. The movie was on last week. You’d know– you worked the snack booth that day. The screening room is empty and it’s Wednesday– what’s going on? 

“Can you sit? Or are you just going to watch the movie standing in the aisle,” Sunwoo grunts, balancing the big bucket of popcorn and two drinks in his large hands, the sight comical and almost making you want to watch him suffer some more.

Caught off guard, though, you let him back you into the aisle of seats, your figure slouching into one of the red cushions like a rag doll. Sunwoo takes place next to you, placing the big bucket of popcorn into your lap, before he settles into a seat as well and focuses his eyes and attention on the movie.

“What… what is this?” you ask, frozen in the seat. 

“Hm?” Sunwoo frowns, looking at you. “National treasure,” he hums, “I thought you’d know, since you threw a scene about it that one time.”

“I- I know that, I just…” you trail off, still surprised at the turn of events, “what’s going on right now…?”

“We’re watching National treasure,” he notes, talking to you as if you were slow.

“What…?”

A sigh escapes Sunwoo’s lips at your utter confusion, his hand coming up to the bucket of popcorn in your lap and throwing a handful of the snack into his mouth before speaking. “Look, Y/N. You said you wanted to watch your favorite movie in the cinema, so that’s what you’re doing. Enjoy my owner’s son privileges for once,” he shrugs, watching as your face morphs into an unreadable expression.

That explanation satisfies you for a bit. The shock in your insides, though? Still present.

There’s something about the whole gesture that makes your stomach feel uneasy. Sunwoo did something nice for you– out of the kindness of his own heart– and you really don’t know why he would even think of something like this. You two aren’t on the best terms either, after all. Maybe he finally went crazy.

Or maybe you did and this was all the result of your imagination. Either or. 

Yeah, you must be the one that’s gone batshit insane. Surely. You’re certain of the fact when you reach for the popcorn and accidentally touch his hand, the two of you deciding to get some at the same time, and your stomach does a flip and your brain makes a sign for you to quickly retract your hand– but the feeling of his slightly cold hand against your fingertips is now engraved into your memory and won’t leave and let you focus on the movie no matter how hard you try.

“You wouldn’t have to do this if you just let me switch schedules with you that time,” you note, “just saying.”

“I couldn’t,” he shrugs.

“Huh? But you bought two tickets..?”

“Yeah, but those were for my friends. I had to drive my mum down to grandmas that day, so I couldn’t go or take your shift that day,” he hums, not once breaking eye contact with the screen.

“If you would’ve just said so, I wouldn’t have made a scene about it–”

“Yeah… but I enjoy watching you make a scene,” he grins, shifting his attention towards you for a second with that lazy smirk playing with his lips. His hair is falling into his eyes and you have the urge to get it out of his face with a motion of your hand while also scolding him like a mother to finally get a haircut, just so you could see the twinkle in his mischievous orbs.

“You need to get serious help, then,” you grunt, pointing your gaze back towards the screen, unable to look at his face for any longer. He’s being annoying again. You’re annoyed.

“Probably,” he admits.

You two sit in silence for a while, the only sound accompanying you being the movie playing out on the big screen in front of you. You think this is the calmest you two have ever been around each other, and you’re starting to think that if Sunwoo just didn’t talk, you two could even get along.

Something touches the side of your thigh in the darkness of the room. Eyes darting to the source, you notice Sunwoo’s thigh pressing against yours, the cause of his obnoxious man-spreading, and something about the closeness of his body and the smell of his citrusy cologne makes you feel like your chest is heaving in on itself. You can’t stand him around you. You two can’t share this close of a space.

“Are you not leaving?” you ask.

“No,” he hums, “should I be?”

“Well, you’re on the clock…”

The man snickers, shaking his head in disbelief. “Y/N, you and I both know that the possibility of someone coming to buy a ticket on a Wednesday afternoon is close to zero. Me being there makes no difference in today’s sales.”

His hand knocks into yours again as you reach for more popcorn. You gulp, nodding. “Right…”

“And I wanted to see the movie to see if it’s really that good to make a scene about it,” he teases, another playful look sent your way from the corner of his eye.

You grunt, rolling your eyes. Oh how you hate his guts…

And even though you love the movie, you pray for it to end quickly. The more time you spend with Sunwoo forced into your zone of comfort, the more uncomfortable you feel– even the slightest movement of his body affects you and makes your brain turn on overdrive. It’s strange and it’s weird, and you don’t understand how hatred for a person could manifest in such reactions. 

It’s better that you didn’t notice you two sitting in the love seat. God knows you wouldn’t handle that well. You’d rather die than to hold on to that knowledge.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – CLUELESS (1995)

They say that you only start realizing just how stupid people can be when you work in customer service. As one of the only three employees of the small, vintage cinema on the corner of the town’s square, you can only agree with the sentiment– you have a lot of stories to tell about the wonders of the human brain.

Like that one time you got screamed at because the movie tickets were ‘too expensive’ – because naturally, you should be able to change the price of them when asked. Or that one time you got screamed at because the movie tickets were sold out– because naturally, you should add more seats to the screening room just for the two middle-aged women to sit on during the premiere of the newest Orlando Bloom movie. Or when somebody yelled at you for the toilets being full after the movie– naturally, you are supposed to throw people out in the middle of them peeing. Or build new stalls. Either or.

They say that you only start realizing just how stupid people can be when you work in customer service, but truly, you also realize just how rude they can also be for no reason at all.

Much like today. It’s Friday, which means it’s premiere night. The tickets to all movies this week are sold out already, so no one is on ticket booth duty, and much to your relief, Mr Kim took the snack stand himself. Your responsibility for the day is scanning the tickets and then making sure no one is getting inside during the movie without a ticket. 

It’s not a hard job. Not at all– you would even say nothing about working in the cinema is hard, when you don’t have an annoying coworker trying to make your whole life a living hell– but you see, customers love to make your job harder just by being unreasonably rude about things that are clearly out of your control. 

“Sir, I really can’t let you in, I’m sorry,” you say, tone of voice polite despite screaming on the inside. In front of you is standing a tall man, maybe a few years older than you, the expression on his face full of anger and vexation. They say a customer is always right. You agree only when the customer looks like they could wait for you after work and beat you up in the bushes. Sadly, that still doesn’t mean you can let the man inside without a valid ticket.

“What do you mean? Little one, I’m telling you I bought the ticket here, so if you don’t let me in–”

“All tickets purchased for the screening should be able to scan through this, sir, and if it doesn’t work, I am not allowed to let you inside of the cinema,” you try to explain, getting kind of desperate. The line behind him was forming and the movie was supposed to play in a few minutes, so if you wanted to scan all the tickets in time, you had to be quick.

He wouldn’t budge, though. His eyebrows are furrowed and the guy behind him seems to be getting angry as well, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up alert, like a cat when it senses danger. You try your hardest to keep your tone firm, hands clasped politely behind your back. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir, or maybe check in with the owner about the issue? I don’t have the competence to–”

“Listen, I won’t be talking to anyone, because you will let me in, okay?”

“Sir, I can’t-”

Your sentence is cut off by the man again, his fury making you take a step backwards in fear. “And if you don’t, you will see the consequences.”

Gulping, you try to think of a way to get out of this situation. Mr Kim is too far away for you to call, and he is also busy– the line is long and Sunwoo isn’t working today. It’s just the two of you today, so your options are getting slimmer. You can’t let that man in without a working ticket– it seems like the one he’s showing you is either a fake one, or bought in another cinema– but it seems like if you don’t, he’ll have you dead before the next morning. 

“So?”

Opening your mouth to answer (although your brain is still empty and you don’t even know what more to say), a low voice coming from behind you startles you in the middle of your crisis. “Is there a problem here?” 

Turning your head to the source of the voice, you’ve never been more relieved to see Kim Sunwoo in your close proximity. You watch as he puts a rolled-up poster to the ground behind you before he takes another step closer towards your figure, his expression stone cold and glaring at the man in front of you. 

“Your coworker here won’t let me in to watch the movie,” he complains, hand waving around in a threatening way. 

Just having Sunwoo around makes you more confident. Clearing your throat, your eyes dart to your coworker, seeing his face morph into irritation. “It won’t scan his ticket, so…”

“If it won’t scan your ticket, it means it’s invalid and we’re not allowed to let you in,” Sunwoo says, tone of voice way less polite than the one you were using before.

“That’s ridiculous-”

“You are ridiculous,” Sunwoo grunts, annoyance clearly written all over his face. “You were asked to leave, so maybe you should.” 

Truth be told, you’ve been in a couple of arguments with Sunwoo before. In none of them has he ever looked and sounded like this, though. You and Sunwoo argue with spite– sparks flying waiting to start a fire, curses and harsh words thrown around carelessly in moments of heated hatred. His tone is stern, but never threatening. Never mean. Not in the way he’s being right now.

It makes you stare at him wordlessly. He seems to be taking the lead in the situation, reacting territorially to the man in front of him. You can’t say you don’t feel safer with him around– you would be lying.

“Maybe you could just let me in and get this over with–” 

“And maybe you could fuck off,” Sunwoo says back, something in his tone making your stomach feel all light. He looks serious, standing his ground, and the man finally seems to get the memo that he’s not watching the premiere tonight, because he backs off and grits his teeth at the male.

“Your boss will hear about this,” he threatens, making Sunwoo chuckle.

“I’m sure he will.”

Sympathetic looks are thrown your way from the women in the line behind that can finally come up to you so you scan their tickets. You smile at each one and try to seem unaffected by the exchange, but the memory of it still lingers in your brain and doesn’t make you rest easy as you greet the rest of the customers. 

You didn’t even realize Sunwoo was still standing next to you, watching you work. He seems to recognise your shaken-up composure, tone of voice sympathetic and quiet as he asks: “You okay?”

“What?” you ask, surprised by the question, “oh. Yeah, I’m fine. He was just… being a bitch, the usual.”

“Yeah,” he snickers, “why didn’t you just scream at him like you do to me? I bet that would scare him away,” he notes, making you roll your eyes at the comment.

“Because he looked like he could beat me up, Sunwoo.”

“And I don’t?” he gasps, suddenly offended.

You scan the boy up and down, pretending to think it over for a few before you shake your head. “No,” you shrug, “I could beat you up.”

“Excuse you?” he gasps, crossing his arms at his chest in a defensive stance, the shock on his face mixing in with amusement. 

“Don’t believe me? Wanna try?” you test, the conversation suddenly flowing freely, without you even noticing. You don’t pay it much thought, but you guess getting along with Sunwoo is easier when he’s on your side. Most of the time, he’s not, though– and maybe that’s the problem.

“Okay,” he nods, “meet me in the back when you’re off. No weapons allowed, we’ll do it the street style. This is a battle of fists,” he points a finger at you, the sentence making you sigh dreamily and point your eyes towards the ceiling.

“You can’t even imagine how long I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Sunwoo smiles at that– that dumb, boyish smile you usually so despise– and shakes his head at your antics. The conversation dies down a bit after the exchange– with you scanning the tickets and trying your hardest to make it through the line before the movie starts, when your coworker, dressed in none other than his signature gray hoodie and black jeans, nudges you with his elbow. “Want me to stay for a bit, or are you good now?”

“I can take care of myself, Sunwoo,” you sigh, “you can go about your day.”

“Well, it didn’t seem like it a few minutes ago–”

“I can take care of myself when I’m not confronted with a tall muscled man that is threatening me, Sunwoo,” you repeat, looking at the rest of the line, “so with him gone now, you can go about your day. What are you even doing here, by the way? I thought you were off today.”

“I am,” he nods, rocking a little in his place, shifting weight from his heels towards his toes, “I was just… here to drop off something for you,” he says, clearing his throat and pointing towards the poster he was holding when he first approached you, the shiny tube now resting against the nearest wall. 

You shoot the boy a curious look, eyebrows furrowed in question. You don’t get to ask for clarification about the character of the poster, because he abruptly cuts off your train of thought, speaking fast as if to avoid making any more conversation with you. “I’ll see you in the back after you’re done for that fist fight, then. Bye!”

And before you get a chance to say anything back, Sunwoo swiftly turns on his heel and awkwardly marches towards the front door. You don’t have much time to inspect the thing he dropped off for you, but after you’re done with scanning the tickets and have time to breathe when the movie starts, you allow yourself to peek inside– 

only to see a National treasure poster staring back at you, surface glossy and glimmering, as if you just opened a chest full of gold. 

As you take the poster to the staff room with you (while also wearing a huge, embarrassing grin on your face for someone staring at the face of Nicolas Cage), making sure it’s safe and sound until you can bring it home with you, you wonder why you haven’t been civil with Kim Sunwoo before.

It’s good to have a taste of his owner’s son privileges sometimes.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – ME BEFORE YOU (2016)

The day is Friday, the 1st of December. Mr Kim’s ‘Rewind Thursdays' event is over and while Fridays are always the premiere days, meaning you usually have to work the evenings either in the snack booth or in the ticket booth, your boss told you you can have the night off under one condition– you come in the morning (since you told him your classes are done for the semester, he’s been keen on making you work at random times of the day) and help Sunwoo with Christmas decorations in the cinema.

And, well, who are you to say no to a free evening? Maybe you can finally have that self-care time you’ve been needing before your exam season starts.

“Can you get the ladder from the back?” Sunwoo asks, tone of voice not at all interested. You don’t know what the reasoning behind his mood is, but you figure it’s either the fact that he had to get up before 12, or the fact that he doesn’t really seem like the type to like decorating.

“Why don’t you get it?” you huff, wiping your forehead off the sweat that’s cumulated on it over the time you spent bringing out all the boxes full of decorations out of the staff room. “I brought everything in, maybe you can do some work for once.”

One would think your dynamics with Kim Sunwoo would shift after he’s been nice to you on multiple occasions. And sure, you don’t really fight with him as often and he hasn’t pulled a prank on you in a while, but some days, his whole presence is still just as annoying to you as it’s been for the past couple of months. There’s not really much you can do about it– especially not when he’s bossing you around and not doing any actual work himself.

“I built the christmas tree,” he grunts, opening one of the boxes full of ornaments, squinting at the contains with disgust on his face. “And I put up all the other useless stuff before you got here too,” he says, pointing a glare at you. 

Looking around the theater, you notice various types of decorations all over the place. There’s some mistletoe hanging off the ceiling (which has you wondering how he even got it there in the first place) and garlands framing all the doorways– the greenery making the whole place decorated in a very vintage tone. It’s fitting to the theme of the cinema, though, and you can tell that Sunwoo really can’t be arsed to do any better, so you don’t mention it out loud in favor of avoiding another one of your petty cat fights.

Admitting your defeat, you storm back into the staff room and carry out the tall ladder, struggling to fit through the doorways and to cross the corners, praying to all higher forces that you don’t accidentally scratch off pieces of the wall on your way to Sunwoo.

You put down the metal construction with a loud thud, making the boy look up at you from beneath his bangs, the silent curse evident in his eyes. You don’t know what’s up with him, but again, you won’t ask. You try to tell yourself that you don’t really care either, but with every glance towards his direction, the question keeps bugging you and dancing around your brain. 

You force yourself not to care.

Watching as he tries to untangle the Christmas lights, struggle evident in the frustration written all over his face, you sigh and walk over to him, taking the bundle of wire out of his hands and threading your skilled fingers through the lengthy cable. You’re an expert in untangling– you don’t own bluetooth headphones, so you do this pretty much every day before listening to some music. Your headphones love to tangle in your pocket no matter how neatly you try to keep them in your pants– it’s a mystery. Almost like the Bermuda triangle. 

“I can do it myself,” Sunwoo huffs, eyebrows furrowing when he watches you work your magic.

“You seemed like it too,” you ironically note, letting the spiteful side of you win, enjoying yourself when you’re rewarded by the snarky roll of Sunwoo’s eyes– everything is back to normal. You two aren’t friends, you don’t like to be in each other’s presence, and no number of shiny stolen posters and private sessions in the screening room will ever change that.

“Hold this,” you say, thrusting the end of the cord into his hand, walking a few meters away from him as you detangle the lights, watching as he impatiently stomps the floor with his heel, reminding you of Snowball from The secret life of pets movie.

When you’re done and the Christmas lights are now a straight line of wire, you slowly walk over to the tall tree in the middle of the room, wrapping the lights around the fake forest-green needles. You’re glad that the lights are long enough to cover the whole thing and you don’t have to untangle another ones, and when you’re done, you watch your coworker plug them in, examining the small, colorful light bulbs. 

“Okay, now the ornaments,” you say, more to yourself than to anybody in the room, as you waltz over to the boxes and take out the decorations varying in shapes and sizes. You don’t really know what color scheme Mr Kim wants you to go for– and you doubt Sunwoo is aware either, so you just take out the ornaments you find the most pretty and hang them all over the tree, making sure each branch is covered.

Sunwoo stands around for a while, unmoving as he watches you, before he sighs to himself and finally decides to help. You leave him be, thinking that it’s for the best if you two don’t speak today when he’s in such a bad mood, but you break that promise almost immediately when you stare back at the tree after retrieving some more ornaments from the box to your right and notice the almost painful clash of colors.

You should’ve known you can’t trust a man with decorating. The beautiful contrast of the baby pink and brown ornaments you put on the tree is now ruined by the green ones you intentionally left on the bottom of the box. The colors don’t go together at all and you want to claw your eyes out every second you have to stare at it.

“Sunwoo, those colors don’t go together at all,” you say, point and blank– no sugarcoating, no offensive words, just straight facts.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, that tree looks terrifying, and it’s all because you ruined it,” you say.

Okay, maybe you are overreacting just the slightest. But isn’t there fun in making your coworker completely out of his mind? Is this your roles being reversed for the first time? Are you finally winning this little game? 

Nevertheless, you are enjoying the outburst that follows from Sunwoo. Mainly because he looks like a child throwing a tantrum as he huffs and takes off the green ornaments he put on to the tree and throws the handful back into the cardboard box, not really caring if they break or not. You’ll be replaying this scene in your head forever before you go to sleep, for the absolute frustration and annoyance on his face is one of your biggest trophies. Right now, though, you’re battling the urge to laugh.

“Fine, do it yourself, then,” Sunwoo says as he walks away from the tree, choosing to sit on the floor cross-legged, taking out his phone and scrolling through social media.

Again, you don’t know what’s gotten into him today, but you force yourself not to care. You have a job to finish here so you can go home and enjoy your day, and that’s why exactly you just shrug and finish putting on the pretty ornaments, admiring your work every once in a while when you take a break and stare on the tall tree, kind of breathless from the beauty.

You’re not really big on Christmas, but you must admit that this is fun. 

The sound of Sunwoo swiping through Instagram reels is the only thing accompanying your actions, and as you look over your shoulder and see his almost sad face, you bite your lip just to not ask him what’s the matter. You’re not supposed to care. And you don’t.

“Can’t you put some festive music on?” you ask instead, your lips just begging to have a conversation with the male, despite your best judgment.

“No,” Sunwoo barks back, not even taking his eyes off the phone as the sound of the reel changes into another one, a swipe of his thumb across the screen showing him another video. 

Nodding to yourself, you carefully try to pick out your next words. Not really sure how to address the male, you choose to approach him with a hint of humor you’re not sure he’ll appreciate. “What’s up with you? You’re bitchier than usual,” you say, scanning the male with cautious eyes.

Sunwoo stops for a while– a millisecond of him halting his scrolling, an action you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t trying to see any shift in his composure– before he speaks up again. “Nothing,” he shrugs.

“Okay,” you say, a tone of voice full of doubt. 

When you conclude that you’re not getting more answers out of him, you nod to yourself and dart back towards the Christmas tree, making sure you make more eye contact with the glossy ornaments than with your coworker sitting behind you on the ground. Not much time passes by before he speaks up again, though, tone of voice quiet and hesitant.

“I’m just not in the mood today,” he sighs, “I have a final next week and it’s stressing me out, I haven’t slept well in quite a few days, my dad’s making me work more than usual and on top of that, I absolutely hate winter.”

“You hate winter?” you choose to focus on the least serious topic of the little rant, not really knowing when your boundaries lay in discussing the more serious ones.

“Yeah,” Sunwoo chuckles, “it’s like a shittier fall. It’s cold and dark all the time. It would be different if it snowed, though. I love it when it snows.”

Snickering at his sudden confession, you shake your head. “You’re like a little kid.”

“I remember you calling me a child once,” Sunwoo hums in agreement.

“That was different,” you say, hoping to cheer the male up at least a bit with your usual quarrel.

“I figured by the way you threw the toilet brush to my chest,” Sunwoo laughs, the memory of torturing you fond in his brain. The poster he gave you almost made you forget about the fact that he managed to make your life a living hell for quite some time– maybe you should consider this a wake-up call.

The conversation quiets down for a bit, even the sound of Sunwoo’s Instagram reels discontinued as you two marvel in the now much more comfortable silence. Testing the waters, you clear your throat before speaking up again. “Don’t worry about that exam, by the way. I’m sure you’ll do well.”

“How would you know?”

“You’re clever. You need to be clever to come up with all various ways to make my life more miserable,” you say, smiling when you hear him let out a breath of air through his nose, signaling a silent laugh.

“Any advice on the sleepless nights?” he asks, tone of voice light and humorous.

“Less things in your head,” you hum, putting the last ornament onto one of the branches, satisfied with your work. “Or melatonin.”

“Noted,” he nods, sharing a smile with you.

Walking over to the boxes stored a few feet away from the male, you open up the slim one thrown on the side, holding up the star. Your eyes meet his, a carefree twinkle in your orbs when you try to cheer up the boy’s inner child by doing a child's favorite activity. “Do you want to put the star on?”

He fails you, though. “No.”

“Why not?”

“You decorated it all yourself, so you can do the star,” he shrugs, not really into your idea.

“Oh come on–”

“I don’t feel like standing up,” Sunwoo grunts, the joy on your insides finally dying down when you get a taste of his usual composure– the one that really can’t be arsed with anything. 

Sighing to yourself, you waltz over to the tall ladder, and despite your biggest worries, you continue climbing up the metal construction even when it wobbles and makes you fear you’re gonna fall. The whole thing is kind of unsteady and makes your heart thump in your throat, but you choose to get it over with and finally climb to the very top, outstretching your arm and putting the star on top of the tree, the decoration process now done and freeing you off your today’s work responsibilities.

Something akin to satisfaction beams in your insides as you climb down the ladder, and now, you’ll write this off to you being a little too excited with the vision of a face mask and popcorn at home– but your leg slips on one of the steps and despite the ladder being now magically steady, your body comes crashing down to the floor.

A yelp fights out of your throat, hands go flying in a desperate need to steady yourself or hold on to something that would make you not fall hard against the marble floor, when a miracle straight down from heaven comes to rescue in a form of flesh holding you up and shielding you from the fall, a grunt landing in your ears when your body settles into soft fabric of dark gray.

Head snapping to the source of the arms around your waist, surprised at the person’s strength used to balance you two on your feet as you fell (well, your knees buckled, but still, they haven’t yet hit the ground), you notice a pair of chocolate orbs staring down at you through a curtain of dark hair, wide eyes scanning your face and breathing out a puff of air.

“Look where you’re stepping next time, for fuck’s sake,” Sunwoo huffs, watching as your brain tries to process the near-death experience.

Registering his arms firmly placed around your waist (now realizing the soft fabric was the hoodie he’s been living in for the past few months), the citrusy scent of his cologne makes your head spin, eyes scanning his face in quick motions, as if not aware of who was your savior. You wonder how he even got to you on time (not really noticing him walking over to the ladder as soon as he saw it wobbling under you, holding it down to keep you from toppling over), and when your eyes curiously gaze at his chapped, yet plush lips, the warmth in your stomach makes you finally snap out of it. 

Untangling yourself out of his limbs, much like you did with the Christmas lights a few minutes ago, you clear your throat and try to get your breathing back to normal. Your knees are a little weak, but you write that off to the shock of falling. 

“This wouldn’t have happened if you just agreed to put the star on,” you complain, straightening your clothes as you walk over to the empty boxes nearby, stacking them into one another and avoiding all possible eye contact with the male.

It’s working– at least that’s what you keep telling yourself– up until you hear him chuckle and see a pair of hands taking the tower of boxes out of your hold, a charming grin sent your way as he walks away from you to the staff room. “If you say so.”

Okay, so it’s not working.

You’re fucked.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – THE PROPOSAL (2009)

“So… I was thinking,” Sunwoo starts one day, a bundle of rolled-up posters stacked up in his arms like a pyramid, puffs of cold air making clouds appear in front of his face as he speaks, “would you want to go see a movie with me?” he asks, tone of voice casual, as if he was asking you about the weather.

The poster you’re currently putting up into one of the glass holders outside of the cinema almost slips out of your frozen fingers out of shock, your heart skipping a beat. “Huh?” you hum, taking out a container full of pins out of your coat pocket and securing the poster to its designated place. “You want to bring money to your father’s competitor?” you joke.

“What? No,” he quickly replies, furrowing his brows as he shakes his head. “I meant, like, here,” he says, nodding towards the building to prove his point, taking a step aside when you close the glass door of the poster holder and move towards the next one, 3 more movie banners left to put up outside of the cinema. 

The wires in your brain work on full force, trying to clear out any confusion caused by his sudden invitation. Sure, you two have gotten closer ever since you talked with him at the Christmas tree a week ago, but still, you didn’t know it was enough to hang out outside of work hours. 

Instead of focusing the conversation on this unpredictable development, you turn towards clearing out the logistics instead. “How would we even do that? We either work at the same time or you work when I don’t and the other way around,” you say, taking the next poster from him and putting it up.

All of the movies airing the next two weeks are Christmas movies. Some of them are old, some of them are premieres, but still– you can’t really imagine watching a festive movie with your coworker. Up until last week, you thought of him as the next reincarnation of Grinch.

“I could get my sister to switch with me on a day you don’t work,” he hums, sheepish about his preposition. There’s something bashful in his tone, something shy in his gaze as he watches you put up the movie poster, but you try your hardest to ignore it for the sake of your sanity. You’re already having a hard time dealing with the fact that he appeared in your dreams twice since he caught you in his arms last week. You don’t need to add the switch in dynamic to the mix.

“Isn’t she underage?” you ask, snickering.

“Yeah, and?” he shrugs. “It’s a family business, Y/N. Everyone has to be included, underage or not.”

A laugh erupts out of your throat at the comment, shaking your head at the boy in disbelief. 

“What would you even wanna see? Those are all Christmas movies,” you say, moving along and focusing your attention to the glossy material in your fingers.

“I don’t see how that’s a problem,” he says. 

“Oh, it is,” you mutter, “I don’t like Christmas movies.”

Sunwoo grunts. “Well, I don’t really care. I saw your favorite movie with you, so you can return the favor and see my favorite movie with me,” he speaks up, making you roll your eyes at his words.

“There’s no way any of those movies is your favorite,” you note, doubtful tone haunting the boy.

“You wouldn’t know,” he laughs, making your heart do cartwheels at the sound, his teasing making you feel warmth despite the cold breeze trying to make your bones freeze into blocks of ice. 

“I won’t go unless I believe you,” you say, grinning as you close the glass box and take the last poster out of Sunwoo’s hands, watching as the boy puts his frozen fingers into the comfort of his warm jacket, shielding them from the cold. 

“Not fair.”

“Very fair, actually.”

“Oh come on,” he sighs, shaking his head in disagreement, “I thought we could watch a Christmas movie as a celebration to the end of semester,” he says, tone of voice almost pleading.

Securing the last banner into its designated place, you turn towards Sunwoo with an examining look on your face. He seems to be completely serious, eyes big pools of honey as he watches your face morph as you think. Something in your stomach makes it feel like it’s flying, making you clear your throat as you avert your gaze towards the line of Christmas movie posters on the brick wall. “Fine,” you gulp, “so what do you wanna watch?”

“The Polar Express,” he says, pointing towards the A3 scale you put up last, showing one of the movies that were older, but Mr Kim decided to air anyway– as if he was aware.

Fuck, you think. That’s my favorite. 

“Absolutely not,” you cough, “I hate that movie.”

“Huh? How?” he sighs, face full of disappointment. 

“Just because. It’s too long.”

“It’s not even two hours?”

Eyes quickly darting towards the poster, pupils shaking as you look towards the airing dates at the very bottom, you chew on your bottom lip, trying to find a way out. “You’re working on the 18th.”

“Okay, then we can go on the 19th,” Sunwoo says, determined to make you watch the movie with him. Why? You don’t even want to know at this point.

“I go home for Christmas break on the 19th,” you say, shrugging. “See? It wasn’t meant to be.”

“Y/N, come on–”

“Listen, can’t we just go back to hating each other instead of you annoying me about this stupid movie?” you sigh. In the whirlpool of events, you forgot just how insistent Sunwoo could be– who knows, maybe this was the real reason why you were so irritated with him in the first place.

Slowly walking back towards your workplace, hearing Sunwoo’s sneakers hit the ground behind you as he trails after you like a lost puppy, a sense of momentarily victory flows through your veins when you recognise that you found your way out. There was no way Mr Kim would let his underage daughter work instead of Sunwoo, and you truly were leaving home the evening of 19th. You already had a train ticket– you’re not gonna change your plans because of a man you despised just a few days ago.

“I never really hated you, by the way. Besides, you’re only saying that because you hate the movie,” Sunwoo grunts, chiming in front of you– making you think he’s being petty and doesn’t want to talk to you anymore, surprising you when he opens the door for you and offers you a solemn gaze, waiting for you to walk through the entryway and go back to work. (For you, it’s sitting in the ticket booth in silence. For Sunwoo, it’s pretending to work in the back, since his dad is absent today again)

Reciprocating his gaze, noticing the disappointment behind your coworker’s eyes, you feel something in your stomach drop, the weight of it so heavy you quickly avert your look. 

“Maybe,” you shrug.

And maybe, the true reason is something completely else. 

The words resonate through your brain– ‘I never really hated you, by the way’. Funny. Then what were all those months of torture all about?

You decide you no longer want answers.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – WHEN HARRY MET SALLY (1989)

You can’t believe you’re doing something nice for Kim Sunwoo.

Shoes hitting the gravel, your scarf pulled up so it covers your nose from the ice cold air, a hat hugging your head in warmth and shielding you from the aggressive weather, you start to contemplate your choices and your next moves. A sigh escapes your throat when your eyes land on the marquee above the entrance of the movie theater, teeth chewing on the inside of your cheek as you shift your weight from one foot to another.

Pulling out your phone to check the time, a shiny 7:24PM stares back at you, pushing you to walk up to the door of your workplace on your day off, 24 minutes after the beginning of The polar express. 

You feel silly. You feel oh so stupid when you push the door open and your body is immediately engulfed in warmth, the yellow dim lights of the cinema making your eyes slowly adjust to the brightness contrasting the darkness of the outside world. You feel like you must have gone crazy, especially when your insides start to get all light and bubbly, hints of nerves tingling at the tips of your fingertips and the deepest corners of your stomach. There’s no turning back now, you tell yourself– and when your feet automatically take you to the ticket booth, gaze landing on the boy with his bangs in his eyes and an expression worthy of a kicked puppy on his face, you suddenly feel like your trip to the cinema was all worth it.

Clearing your throat, you notify your coworker of your presence, his big, doe eyes staring at you in surprise. Sunwoo’s mouth goes agape, shock overtaking his features when he takes in your appearance. (You bet he thinks you look laughable– your eyes teary from the cold and your figure stoic, numb limbs hanging by your side.)

“What are you doing here?” he asks, the question not as aggressive as it sounded out of your lips every time he paid a visit to the cinema on his days off for all these months.

“Uh… I forgot some things in the back and I wanted to take them home tomorrow, so I came back for them,” you hum, the practiced excuse slipping out of your lips with ease, “can you come help me?” 

Sunwoo looks even more surprised at your question– although there is now a hint of confusion in the mix. What could you possibly have in the back to need his help with? For as far as he knows, you only ever kept your work uniform in your locker. “What? Can’t you get it yourself…?” he asks, noticing as you shake your head in disapproval.

“It’s… it’s on the top of the lockers and I can’t reach it, so-”

“Grab a chair…?” 

You didn’t really expect to have Sunwoo question your half-assed excuse. Truly, you thought this was going to go smoothly– but knowing Kim Sunwoo, you should’ve known it was never going to go the way you planned. You’re determined to win, though. 

And so it’s the time to bring out the big guns– men never say no when you praise them and make yourself look incompetent.

“Please? I don’t feel like bringing a chair and you’re tall enough. It will only take a second…” you pout, watching as the male in front of you sighs and stands up from his seat, nodding at your humble request.

Sunwoo follows you as you walk down the corridor, your heart thumping with the start of your little plan. Your steps are calculated and your movements carefully programmed, the nervousness in your stomach making you even more giddy with every meter of distance you two cross. 

Before you two get a chance to make it to the back, you make a swift turn and open the doors to one of the rooms on the left of the hall, dragging Sunwoo by his hand and tugging him inside. His body stumbles against yours, but the door closes behind him faster than he can react to the impact. Steadying the boy back to his feet, you watch him with anticipation, awaiting his reaction.

The truth is, you haven’t thought the plan out this far. The depiction of it in your brain always ended with you sneaking him into the projecting room and his curious eyes peering into yours. Something about the image of the events always made you feel too overwhelmed– you never dared to imagine the situation further. (That would mean admitting some hidden desires to yourself, so you never even tried. That all makes this situation twice as nerve-wrecking, though.)

“What… are we doing here?” he asks, eyes darting around the darkness of the projection room, the only light illuminating his pretty features being the movie playing behind the glass of the small booth.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to watch The polar express with me?” you ask, voice a few octaves higher than usual. 

“I… did…” he mumbles, confusion making him stumble over his own words.

“Well, you are working and I leave tomorrow, so I figured I had to find a way…” you shrug, watching as Sunwoo looks at you a little frozen, big eyes staring you down, gears turning in his head. You can’t really read him– you don’t really know if he’s going to laugh at you or send you home for ruining his shift. You don’t know if he appreciates the gesture, or if he thinks you’re being embarrassing. You don’t know if he registers the slight tremble of your hands and the lightness of your breathing, you don’t know if he realizes how much his reaction could make your day or completely ruin it (just like always), and so, you panic– and when you panic, you ramble. “I know we are technically not supposed to be here– well, me, at least– but I think that being with the owner’s son could make my boss let me off even if he somehow finds out, which I doubt he will, but–”

Sunwoo’s face starts slowly morphing, the slightest of shifts slowly adding up to a change of expression, having the male break out into the biggest, happiest grin you’ve ever seen him sport. His eyes light up and glaze your features in the softest of touches, his head shaking in disbelief. “Oh, you’re adorable.”

“What?” you ask, your heart doing seven somersaults and five cartwheels, eyes a big pool of surprise.

“You did this for me?” he beams, his grin so big and pretty it takes your breath away. Butterfly wings tickle in your stomach at the sight, having you mentally curse yourself– hold it together, Y/N. 

“I- I mean, I didn’t really do anything, we just sneaked in–”

“This is the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me,” Sunwoo hums, the teasing tone making its comeback in his voice, “actually, this might be the first sweet thing you’ve ever done for me–”

“Well, okay,” you roll your eyes, an embarrassed laugh dragging out of your throat as you turn on your heel and walk closer to the little table in the opposite end of the room, needing to avert your gaze from the boy for at least a second. The air is suddenly too heavy and it’s hard for you to breathe, heat rushing to your cheeks. 

Eyes focusing on the screen in front of you, your brain tries hard to focus on your favorite Christmas movie. Failing, your head running thoughts full of conflicting emotions and erratic exclamation marks screaming the name of the boy behind you, you ask yourself how and when exactly you’ve gotten yourself into this mess.

Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten this job in the first place.

Ears painfully alert, listening to each sound heard in the small projecting room– the shuffling of Sunwoo’s feet as he nears your figure, the muffled noise of the movie playing in the screening room in front of you, the resonance of your own heartbeat in your ears as Sunwoo’s hands suddenly sneak around your middle, your jacket squeaking from the contact of his limbs as he hugs you.

“What–”

“Don’t fight me, Y/N. Just this once,” he hums, voice deep, but still a bit hesitant. It’s like he’s walking on unsteady land, cautious of his movements in fear of making you run away. He’s in a new territory, in your personal space– the scent of his cologne fills your nostrils again as his head settles itself on your shoulder, the two of you silently watching the movie for a few seconds, not really knowing how to proceed.

There’s something intimate in the way he holds you, in the way the movie is a mere background noise to the marathon of your thoughts, the blue light illuminating your faces as you both try your hardest to keep your cool. 

A flashing thought of just how much you from a few months ago would hate the position it’s  in right now passes by your brain, making you instantly feel foolish. Oh how much you’d love it if you stood here unaffected right now– there’s no way to battle the warmth flooding your insides right at this moment, though.

“This is nice,” he mumbles, voice barely louder than a whisper. “Thank you,” he says, your insides squeezing at the sincerity. It’s not often you get to see this side of Sunwoo– the sweet, patient one, the side of him that makes you feel safe in his arms and appreciated with the soft tone in his words. And while you realize you don’t hate the playful side of him just as much as you thought you did, you must admit the novelty of the situation makes you feel a bit more joyful than you’d like to admit.

The weight of his head disappears from your shoulder, making you feel momentarily disappointed by the action. You expect him to pull away and take a seat on the chair, to finally focus on the movie playing in front of your eyes, the thought alone making your spirit fall. The fire in your inside lights up like a match thrown into a pool of gasoline just as fast again, though, when you feel soft lips come in contact with your cheek.

They stay only for a second before they disappear, an airy laugh landing in your ear a second later. “Please don’t run away now,” he says, tone of voice uncertain, telling you that now the ball is in your court– your next actions could either make him the happiest man on Earth, or completely break him. 

The choice is yours.

Your head turns his way, eyes instantly locking with his brown orbs searching for any signs of discomfort in your face. Slowly, as if still processing the events of before, your eyes trail over his features– the awfully handsome way his face was sculpted, the softness of his eyes and the sharpness of his jaw, the slope of his nose and the plushness of his lips. They’re not as chapped today, making you wonder if he started wearing vaseline, and before you get a chance to stop yourself, you start wondering of the way his lips would feel on yours, imagination running wild. 

He heaves out a shaky breath, your eyes darting back into his– as if to ask for approval, see if he’s okay with it. There’s a dazy look in them, gaze pressed to your lips, then to your eyes, then your lips again– a look you take as an invitation as you act against all your best judgment and lean towards him, pressing your mouth against his.

As if testing the waters, you make the kiss short. It was long enough to engrave it into your brain, though– to remember the way his perfectly shaped lips pressed against yours, the way the world stopped just for a moment, the way he tasted of the strawberry mints he always eats at work whenever he has nothing to do. 

Sunwoo seems to find liking in the action– lips glazing yours again, pressing another peck to them before he deepens the kiss, the tingling in your fingertips intensifying and the excitement bubbling in your frame making you turn in your position, front facing him and pressing up against his chest. His hands quickly adjust, slipping under your opened jacket and settling on your clothed waist, the slightest contact making your knees weak and settle your bottom against the table behind you, hands grabbing the fabric of his sweatshirt. 

He pulls back to catch some air, a boyish grin breaking out on his face, forehead knocking against yours in a sweet, giddy manner. “I’ve wanted to do this for months,” he huffs.

The sentiment makes a thousand question marks appear in your head– why did he make your life a living hell, then? Why did he pull pranks on you and make you hate every second spent with him? Why did he make you so furious each time and argued with you about the smallest things? How could Sunwoo possibly have wanted this for months, when you just only started noticing his attractiveness a few weeks ago?

“Why–”

“I’ll tell you later,” he says, cutting you off as he presses his lips against yours again, your mouth automatically welcoming his presence. Brain erased of all previous questions, his kisses working like a spell, you focus all your senses on the man in front of you.

Having your hands feeling up his abdomen, Sunwoo hesitantly asks for entrance with his tongue, running it along your lower lip until you welcome him in. You like this type of power battle much more than the one you had going on until now, and with each new movement, you feel yourself falling apart under him. 

His fingers tug down on the sides of your jacket, pulling it down. You don’t need it anymore– with how heated you’ve gotten, you are actually kind of happy that it is gone. One of his cold hands sneaks under the hem of your jumper, fingertips trailing up and down your side, the other one tugs down the hat from your head, discarding it somewhere on the table behind you before it finds its place on the side of your jaw, angling your head in a way that allows him to deepen the kiss even more, the contact of your lips growing firmer as seconds go by. 

Your scarf is swiftly untangled off your neck, Sunwoo’s skilled lips blindly trailing down the side of your mouth towards your jaw, feathery kisses ticking you before he gets more bold and sucks on the side of your throat, a shaky breath shyly escaping your lips.

“Sunwoo…” you say, tone of voice not really present, no real intention behind the call of his name.

The boy hums against your neck, having you gasp again when he lightly bites the softness of your skin, your hands shooting up to tangle in his hair when he licks the spot to soothe it after. Threading your fingers through his locks to ground yourself, you can’t believe you ever hoped for him to get a trim.

His hands firmly hold the underside of your thighs before he hoists you up on the table, continuing his confident attack on your neck when you’re sitting comfortably on the hard surface. It’s not like you didn’t feel excited, the tiniest bit thrilled at the mental image of his possessive marks all over your throat, but you were glad it was freezing outside and you could wear a turtleneck to hide the bruises from your family tomorrow. He nuzzles his nose into the hot skin of your neck, the action making you grin in ecstasy and endearment.

Getting lost in the way he was handling you, his touches firm, yet delicate, acted out in a way that makes you feel safe and comfortable with his passionate ministrations, you almost don’t notice the door swinging open, the figure of your boss like striking like the lightning in the doorway of the screening room.

“Sunwoo!”

The boy jumps, his body quickly ungluing itself off yours, as he listens to his father scolding him. “I don’t care what you two have going on over here, but you’re on clock! There’s a line waiting for the tickets for tomorrow’s movie and someone has to sell them right now.”

The boy clears his throat, voice a little hoarse. “Coming,” he says, trying to keep his composure. His hair’s a little tousled, cheeks rosy and lips puffed– the image that will haunt you in your sweetest nightmares now– and before you get a chance to say anything or let your brain process the events of the last few minutes, your panic works faster, making you act.

Quickly scattering for your things, you run out of the projecting room without saying goodbye to either Sunwoo or your boss, never once looking back.

You think of what you’ve done on your way home, bones freezing now that they weren’t in his presence. You try hard to regret your actions, but you don’t find it in you to do so– it’s kind of hard with the feeling of his lips still playing with yours.

Even though you’d hate to admit it just a few weeks ago, you must do it now. 

Kim Sunwoo does make a really good kisser.

TONIGHT’S PREMIERE – PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2005)

There are many thoughts swimming around your brain as you walk through the coldness of the town the next day, your duffel bag hanging off your shoulder. There’s a conflict between the actions of your body and your thoughts – feet on their journey to the train station, but head stuck in the small projection room of your workplace, your coworker’s kisses occupying your every sober thought.

It’s not surprising, but you haven't heard from Sunwoo since you left the cinema last night. Not a single text or a call– but you figure that this is just your dynamic. Sunwoo’s never been much of a texter when it came to you. He’s never had the reason to text or call you, unless it was work-related, and you think it will stay that way, even though you did make out with him just last night.

Maybe he regretted it. Maybe he just didn’t feel like pondering on the events any longer– maybe it was just a one-time thing for him and he didn’t put much significance to it. You wouldn’t know– it’s not like you’re suddenly an expert on the way he feels and operates. 

You, though? How do you feel about the turn of events? Despite not wanting to admit it to yourself, the answer came to you the second you tried to fall asleep last night, every soaring thought in your brain showing you the reflection of his dazed look, desires of wanting him to look at you that way all the time oh so skilfully infesting themselves into every crevice of your neocortex. You want Sunwoo to like you. You want Sunwoo to want you. You want Sunwoo to be so enchanted with your existence that he thinks about you before he goes to sleep at night– just like you have done for the past few weeks. 

The answer comes to you again when you feel something wet fall on the top of your cheek, making you turn your eyes towards the sky. Your breathing comes out in puffs of air as you watch the magic happen right in front of you– and as you watch the snowflakes scatter all around the place, you are in another inner argument. While the rational side of your brain is screaming at you to keep walking to the station so you don’t miss your train home, the delirious side is cooperating with your feet for once, your figure crossing to the other side of the street and walking over to the place you could get to even with your eyes closed at this point; all because you suddenly remember the conversation you had with Sunwoo when you were putting on ornaments to the Christmas tree.

It’s the first snow of the season. 

Kim Sunwoo loves it when it snows.

Speed-walking towards the vintage movie theater at the corner of the town’s square, you feel something akin to childish excitement bubbling in your insides, a hint of nervousness inviting itself into your insides when you push the door open and aim straight towards the ticket booth, where you know Sunwoo will be sitting, wasting another shift away.

He’s there– eyes pressed towards the window, gaze following the snowflakes kissing the cold ground. You expected more excitement in his character, more childlike joy in his figure– and after taking in his composure: shoulders slouching and fingers picking at the skin of his cuticles, you suddenly feel silly for coming.

Well, here goes nothing, you think.

“Sunwoo,” you call, making the boy snap his head towards you in surprise, big eyes meeting yours the moment he recognises your voice.

You don’t receive a verbal response for a while. The boy just stares at you, a bit hesitant and clueless. His face reminds you of a small puppy trying to take in the new situation in front of it. His lips are formed into a small pout, gears in his brain turning and trying to process the reality of having you standing there, face beaten from the cold.

Clearing your throat, you try to take charge of the situation. “It’s snowing outside,” you say, eyes peering out of the window, all thoughts suddenly escaping your brain, words blanking off your tongue, “and, well… you said you like the snow, so…”

The boy’s mouth hangs agape, a twinkle in his eyes slowly appearing once again when he stares at you, your nervousness doing wonders to your conversation skills. “I- I don’t even know what I wanted to say with that, it’s just- I don’t know… I saw it was snowing and I automatically came here, so-” you stutter, the sentence cutting off as Sunwoo jumps to his feet and grins, wordlessly taking your hand into his and dragging you outside.

The duffel bag falls off your shoulder somewhere in the middle of the hall, discarded to the floor, before Sunwoo sharply halts in his steps and runs back towards the ticket booth, still dragging you with him by the hand. The boy grabs something off the table, the item not visible in your rear point of view, and before you have a chance to register what’s happening, you’re outside of the building again, coldness instantly slapping you in the face.

It’s dark out, but the heaviness of the snow provides enough light in the silent evening for you to see where you’re going under the yellow lampposts on the street. Instantly noticing the lack of Sunwoo’s warm hand in yours when he suddenly lets go, you turn your head to look at the male.

Terror fills your veins when you notice him gathering snow from the ground and pressing it into a tight ball, a screech escaping your throat when you watch him swing it at you, a playful, boyish grin playing with his features. The male chases you around and most of the snowballs don't even hit your running figure (he does have an awful aim), but you still duck anyway and try your hardest to win your snowball fight.

Numb fingers creating snowballs and halting them at his tall frame, but missing most of the time due to his fast reflexes, you laugh and let go of all the worries and questions clouding your judgment. Sunwoo looks enthusiastic, so much more lively than when you found him in the ticket booth just a few minutes ago– but that’s still not enough for you to let him win.

Gathering the icy texture into your hands, you run towards him, taking advantage of his inattention as he’s bent over and taking more snow into his hold, and halt the whiteness into his face just as he straightens his back and wants to prepare for his attack.

More laughter bubbles out of your chest when you watch him drop his snowball to the ground, admitting defeat. The snow is all over his face– slowly running down his cheeks like teardrops, redness tinting his nose and the sides of his face. 

The male shudders from the cold, and you instantly start feeling bad. Only now you realize that he ran out without a coat, a gasp escaping your throat. “Oh god,” you mourn, hands flying towards his frozen face to wipe off the snow from his cheeks, fingers carefully tracing over his cold skin. His eyes open as he watches you, something in his gaze so tender you feel yourself melting even in the middle of the snowstorm.

The male shuffles his hands into the front pocket of his gray hoodie, taking out the item you now recognise to be the hat you accidentally forgot in the projecting room yesterday (and already mentally paid goodbye to), his frozen fingers tugging the fabric onto your head. 

“Why are you putting this on me? You’re the one that’s freezing over here!” you scold him, shaking your head at the male. 

He rewards you with an amused grin, watching your next moves. Acting on auto-pilot, not really putting much thought into your actions, you unzip your jacket and step impossibly near to the male. Holding the jacket open, you hug him around his middle, making sure you are sharing the warmth with him and keeping him as close as possible, shielding him from the cold with both the fabric of your puffer jacket and the heat radiating off your body.

Faces just inches away from each other, you peer at his face. He wears a warm expression, eyes peeking out from behind his dark bangs. Clouds of breath escape his mouth when he speaks, voice quiet, as if to not ruin the atmosphere. “I thought you would regret it,” he says, making you break out into a foolish smile.

“I thought so too,” you nod.

“And you don’t?”

Shrugging, you reply. “Not really.”

“Why?” he asks, suddenly doubtful. “You said you hated me. Which was odd to hear, honestly, since I did all this to get your attention anyway and I thought it was just how our dynamic works, but… I could see how it could be annoying to you…”

Chuckling, you roll your eyes at the sudden revelation. It’s sickeningly sweet how endearing he looks when he doubts himself, explaining himself to you in a nervous blabber. “I don’t hate you. At least not anymore.”

“You don’t?”

“No,” you shake your head, a tender gaze shared between the two of you, “I actually quite like you, I think…” you mumble, a little bashful to admit it out loud.

“You do?” he asks, the twinkle in his eye glimmering twice as much as ever before, tone of voice playful, yet laced with honest joy and surprise at your confession.

“I do,” you nod, voice barely louder than a whisper as you watch him lean closer towards your face, cold nose bumping into yours before he angles his head, breath mixing in with yours in the few seconds before he dares to kiss you again, capturing your lips with his.

The kiss is sweet. The kiss tastes of strawberry mints and the first snow, of unsaid confessions and longing looks sent your way every time you weren’t looking. The kiss makes your stomach fill with a thousand little butterflies, it melts away the ice around you, the two of you like a spark of a fire in the middle of a snowy land. 

His actions have your composure faltering, hands untangling from behind him and moving up to cradle his face. He melts under your touch, leaning into you as your fingers trail over his cheekbones. Holding on to him, thumbs padding his soft skin, you’re reminded of the cold only when he breaks off you and shudders again, teeth clattering from the freezing temperature.

“Let’s get you inside,” you say, planting a short peck to his lips, “before you turn into an icicle,” you giggle, watching as he scrunches up his face.

“I won’t,” he shakes his head, “love warms me up,” he grins, making you roll your eyes at his bold statement.

“You’re so cheesy.”

“But you quite like me anyways, no?”

Sighing, moving away from him and tugging him back inside the cinema, you shake your head at the boy. “I’ll think about it on my train home,” you bite back, opening the door to the theater and aiming towards the duffel bag you dropped on your way out.

Sunwoo watches you with a warm gaze, an adorable smile playing with his lips. His figure seems to be visibly taking in the heat again, his face adorning a flush, pink color. 

“So I take it as you’re not quitting anymore, then?” he teases as you walk back to the door, both of you ignoring the customers waiting for their tickets in the line in front of the forgotten booth.

“We’ll see,” you shrug.

“I’ll text you the schedule for January?”

“You better text me about something else too, Kim Sunwoo,” you bark back, opening the door towards the cold landscape, “or you’re gonna have a very uncomfortable return back to work in January!”

The boy laughs, the noise like a Christmas carol to your ears. “Noted.”

Slipping outside, you watch as he waves at you goodbye, your feet dragging through the snow towards the train station having more pep to their step now. You don’t even know if you can make it to the train on time, but you surprisingly have no regrets– you can always catch the next one, right?

Mentally wanting to slap yourself for the lovesick grin playing with your lips, you sigh. 

The male that once made your life a living hell is now the one you look forward to seeing the most once you come back after Christmas break. It’s kind of strange, really. 

One would think that working with movies on the daily would prepare you better for the biggest plot twist of your life.

[mammon-s]

I’m pretty sure other people have said this too but I heavily agree.

Mammon would be such a cherry chaser.

Cw: Fem Afab reader, virginity loss, corruption kink

Even before he met you when he would hook up with people, (which he did a lot because in my mind he was a man whore before meeting you lmao) he would especially get off to fucking virgins and taking their virginity. Sometimes even intentionally seeking out people he suspected were virgins. That feeling of greed and power it gave him to be someone’s first. The pride it gave him when it was someone especially innocent, to corrupt them, probably had Lucifer feeling it a mile away.

So when he overheard you talking to Asmo, politely declining one of his numerous offers to join him in bed and shyly telling him that you “had never done anything like that before” he just about lost it.

Fisting his cock while thinking about you was nothing new, but after he found out you were a virgin it was like something unlocked inside him. The ferocity in which he’d fuck his fist thinking about being in your tight wet virgin cunt had him feeling sore.

It all came to a boil when you were hanging out with him in his room for a movie night and things started to get heated between you. When you looked up at him with big doe eyes from where you lay under him on his couch and said softly that you wanted him to be your first he nearly came on the spot.

Before he knew it he had you on his bed and was sinking into your tight wet pussy listening to the cute little gasps you made that turned to moans once you got over the pain from his cock stretching you out. The way your face scrunched up in pleasure and your tits bounced from his thrusts, how good your cunt felt squeezing around him, and the knowledge that he was the first person to see you this way, to feel you this way, had him cumming inside you far too soon. That didn’t mean he was done though, he wouldn’t stop until until you couldn’t cum anymore and he had filled you to the brim.

The next day you wouldn’t be able to stop him from loudly announcing to his brothers (and anyone that would listen) how he was now your first man in every sense of the word. No matter how badly he would be punished by Lucifer it would be worth it to let everyone in all the three realms know how he was his perfect little human’s, his most precious treasure’s, first.

[webslingingslasher]

hey, i loveee your writings! i was wondering if you could write a fic or one shot of peter parker and reader getting into an argument based off of peter parker saying something to his friends behind readers back about reader that hurts her feelings? ending is up to you! thanks!

iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii dunno how i feel about this

You were many things. 

Beautiful, talented, smart, caring, affectionate, loyal, honest, needy. 

Needy. 

Needy, needy, needy. 

Needy, he called you needy. 

Were you needy? You didn’t think so, but then again, would you be aware if you were? 

Maybe he didn’t mean it, it was a private conversation. He could’ve been just venting, ranting about small things. You’ve done it before with your friends, it could be harmless. 

But, god it hurt. It was so casual coming from his mouth, like it’s a common thought passing through his mind. 

“Hi petey,” you said with a hum, he had just left yours to hang out with his friends when he called. 

Silence drifted on the line. 

“Petey?” 

Shuffles, maybe a cough? Murmured voices, nothing too solid. 

“Peter, you there?” 

Laughs break through, you understand it was a buttdial. 

You were about to hang up but Peter moved around, suddenly the voices were crystal clear. 

“So, how is it with your girl, parker?” 

You think it’s Mark. 

It’s wrong to eavesdrop but if your partner accidentally called while they were about to talk about you, wouldn’t you listen, just for a second? 

Notes from future self, don’t. 

“Eh,” you imagine him rubbing at the back of his head, “good, good. It’s good.” 

Good? 

Good, that’s it? 

Good? 

You thought everything was great, wonderful in fact. When your friends ask about Peter you take your time on the soapbox preaching, he wants to end the conversation immediately. 

Is that a good sign or a really bad sign? 

“Just good? Don’t tell me she stopped putting out, I know how chicks are.” 

“Don’t talk about her like that, Logan.” 

Peter came to your defense, point one for parker. 

On the other side of the line Logan holds his hands up in surrender, “didn’t mean to poke the bear there, parker. Get your girl to suck your dick, you’ll be fine.” 

Next time you see Logan you’ll clobber him. 

Peter grunts, he’s never liked Logan and neither did the friend group. But every group needed that one person that was mutually hated so there was always something to joke and talk about. 

“She sucks my dick just fine, you sound jealous. I’m sure she’s got a friend that’ll pity fuck you.” 

Your eyebrows furrow, Peter doesn’t talk like that. At least not around you, is this what the ‘saturday’s are for the boys’ boys mean when they say locker room talk? 

Mark cuts back in, he lights up a joint. 

“I’m sure parker is just fine, he can barely rip himself away from Y/N.” He coughs on the smoke between laughs, Peter stays quiet. He’s wondering if he should tell his friends this, it’s nothing serious and it didn’t really bother him, and he didn’t want to say anything to you because he knows you’d take offense and stop it; and he’d miss it way too much. 

“Yeah, that’s kinda the problem.” 

He mumbled it, but he said it and what the fuck did that mean? 

You couldn’t stop now, you pray he doesn’t see you’re connected to the call. 

“Trouble in paradise? Do tell.” Mark offers the joint to Peter, he accepts it and passes it to Logan. 

“Sometimes I feel like she’s all over me and needs me for everything, I dunno.” 

Peter tugs at his hair, he’s not saying it right. 

“I think I feel like no matter how much I’m there it’s not enough, she’s so needy.” 

Gut punch. You took such a sharp inhale you have to stop breathing to make sure Peter didn’t pick up on it. You’re reeling trying to look at it from his side, you didn’t seem needy, but everyone’s idea of needy must be different. 

Sure, you do try to extend his visits for as long as possible but that’s because some weeks you feel like you don’t see him but for a few hours and you’re willing to scrape up as much time as possible. And because you love him. And sure, there have been times you ask him to do things or help you but you love watching him fix things around your apartment and have him take extra time to dote on you. And because you love him. 

You want to hang up, you don’t want to know why he thinks you’re needy. If you do then you’ll spiral and question everything you do from here on out. 

On Peter’s end he pulled his phone out to check to see the time, and if you’ve texted. His eyes widen at the screen, he feels like he stopped breathing before he whispered a “fuck” under his breath, he looked at the screen and tried to pretend it wasn’t real. 

It was. Bold and in his face, your saved name and small lettering below it, ‘call connected’ you’ve been on the line for six minutes. You heard absolutely everything, in a panic he hung up the call which was the worst thing he could’ve done, because now you know he knows, and suddenly you realized that if he thought you were needy you’d show him you weren’t. 

—----------------------------------

There is no surprise your boyfriend is pounding on the door. 

Not loudly, but constant and quickly, demanding to not be ignored. 

Like his four missed calls. 

After two straight minutes of his rapping you finally swung the door open, waiting for him to bombard you with reason and apologies. He looked surprised. Peter opens and closes his mouth, he doesn’t know what to say exactly.

Your eyebrow raises at his silence, “you had forty minutes, four missed calls, seven ignored texts, banged on my door for two minutes, and in all that time you didn’t think of one thing to say?” 

“I’m sorry?” He looks sheepish, he gave a tiny shrug. Hoping you’ll find him cute enough to be let off the hook, like a kid with cookie crumbs around his mouth claiming he didn’t know who ate them. 

You run your tongue over your teeth and click them, “yeah, no.” You try to swing the door shut and he foot catches it. 

“Baby,” he catches your eyes, his own look wet and sad. He looked remorseful for his words but didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry.” 

You know what you want to say, you want to tell him that it hurt your feelings, that you didn’t know you were being that way, why he didn’t tell you, why he felt that way, a million things ran through your mind. 

But that would make him right. Needy about answers, about why he would think that. That would prove him right, and you weren’t needy, you didn’t think you were but anything he might deem as needy wouldn’t be done anymore. 

“It’s okay.” 

Peter pulls his head back, he’s unsure if you know what you said. 

“It’s…okay?” 

You nod, “yeah, sure, I understand, you were just venting, and I shouldn’t have been listening.” 

“But that doesn’t make it okay, because if you did that to me I’d be hurt.” 

But I wouldn’t do that, I only praise you around my friends.  

“Yeah, well, fuck around and find out, you know.” 

It feels off, this is why Peter didn’t want to tell you anything. He knew you’d pull away from him, you already are. 

“Wanna watch a movie? I heard there’s -” he tries to move around your shoulder to come in but you move to block him entirely. He looks at you half confused, half offended. 

You didn’t need him. He had plans with his friends and you weren’t about to prove them all right and have Peter come running back to you, like he always does, and try to fix things. 

This time Peter wouldn’t fix things, you were. It was clear what he didn’t like, so you’ll stop doing it. 

“Don’t you have plans tonight?” 

Peter snorts, “since when do you care? You always beg me to stay with you anyways.” 

Is that one? One of the things that made him think you were needy? 

Not tonight. 

“I won’t beg tonight then, go have fun.” 

Peter regrets everything about the past two hours, he should’ve stayed when you asked the first time. 

“I have more fun with you, lemme in.” Peter tried to push past but you were adamant he leaves. 

“Go smoke some weed with Mark, come back when you have the munchies. I’ll make cookies.” 

Peter shakes his head, “I don’t wanna hang out with them right now, I want to hang out with you.” He tries to move past you for the third time, you put a hand on his chest to push him back.

“No you don’t. You feel guilty and want to prove something to me or yourself or whatever, and I don’t need Logan thinking if you don’t grovel at my feet then I’ll stop sucking your dick.” 

Peter jumps in immediately, “that was fucked up, and I know I said some shitty things too but I didn’t want him thinking I wasn’t getting laid.” His eyes blow up, he moves his hands around, “not that that matters! Cause I’d love you no matter how much we had sex, but we are having sex and he-” 

You hold up a hand to stop him, “I don’t know where you think that’s going but it’s nowhere good. You’re just digging a deeper hole.” 

Peter’s voice is panicked, “there’s a hole?” 

You sigh and clasp your hands, you point them at his chest. 

“I’m not mad and I don’t need you here, I also don’t need you trying to make a point about not meaning it. You said it and you meant it, don’t lie to my face. Either man up or go back to your friends.” 

You were right, this is going nowhere good and Peter knows it. 

“This shouldn’t be a fight, right?” 

You shrug, “I dunno.” 

Peter pleads with you, he wants anything, something he can work off of. 

“I’m sorry, I really am.” He reaches for your hands and you let him hold them, he rubs his thumbs over the back of your hands. 

“Are you sorry you said it or sorry you got caught?” 

Peter doesn’t know how to respond yet, he doesn’t know how to be honest without offending you and he doesn’t want one thing to change. 

“I just….” He groans and tilts his head back, “can I please come inside?” 

You take him in and decide it’s okay for him to enter, your head looks at your roommates door to make sure it’s still closed. 

Peter flops on the couch and slaps the coffee table, you take a seat where he called and waited. 

“You’re not needy. Not at all, and don’t think I’m just saying that because I think that’s what you want to hear. Needy is the wrong word, it makes you seem annoying or unbearable and I promise you’re my most favorite person in the world, so it’s not that.” 

You whisper your words, your thumbnail being nibbled on. 

“So what did you mean?” 

“I don’t even know!” Peter stresses his point, you can see how upset he is, that he not only said it, but couldn’t place it. 

“I just think maybe,” he groans, he doesn’t like being vulnerable. He’s the strong one in the relationship, it wasn’t very manly to cry over loving your girlfriend too much. 

Peter rubs at his cheek and shrugs, “I don’t know.” 

Your eyes narrow, “liar.” 

Peter folds his cards, the only thing he has to lose here is you, and he will if he doesn’t be honest. But it’s a whole new level to him, a layer he’s about to peel back, one that isn’t so light and happy. It’s a side very few people have seen, he’s scared to show it to you. 

“Can we talk?” 

You look at him oddly, “we are?” 

“Private.” 

You’re confused but lead him to your bedroom. Peter didn’t know how to tell you he was about to cry, but when he did he didn’t want your roommate seeing it. 

You wait for Peter’s lead when you reach your room, he pushes you towards your bed for you to take a seat, he stands between your legs and cups your face. Peter tilts your head up until he’s looking down into your eyes, he looks troubled. A small tired grin hugged his lips, “hi baby.” 

“Hi, peter.” you whispered soft, his thumb brushed your bottom lip. 

He takes in a deep breath like he’s remembered the task at hand. 

“I’m about to tell you something I haven’t told anyone else, and it’s a different Peter than you’re used to.” Peter presses a kiss to your forehead and steps back, this time he takes a seat at your desk chair. 

“I don’t think you're needy. I don’t even know what to say, cause like, fuck… I don’t, look, spider-man has a lot of people that need him, right? And he works hard all day and has no one to share it with, but I do. I get to tell you about my shit days, and you’ll patch me up and I’ll pretend to leave just so you can ask me to stay over, and honestly? It feels nice to have someone who needs Peter and not spider-man for once.” 

You try to speak but he stops you, he looks like he’s about to cry. 

“I look forward to it too much. I fucking sit here and play pretend, like it’s a chore to spend time with you, and you always ask me how I do it so good and I’m just so used to hiding it. I’m so used to hiding this lonely feeling, like nothing is enough, and then I had you.” 

Peter shakes his head slowly, he wipes at his nose. Tears drop casually with every few blinks as he speaks, you want to hold him to you forever. 

“I didn’t have to do anything because you did, you made all the decisions I wanted to in the first place. I love when you ask me to fix things, and when you want me to spend every second with you, when you want me to skip a night out, when you get me to stay over for the third night in a row.” 

Peter wipes his eyes, he sniffs and breathes out shakily, this is what it’s about, right? 

“Baby, you aren’t needy. I am.”

“And you projected that on me.” It wasn’t a question. 

He laughs, a tear drips down his nose, he wipes it away.

“I’ve never felt so needed and wanted in my life, and I am so terrified I’ll fuck it up and lose it all.” 

You’d never do that, if the relationship ends it won’t be on your terms.

Finally you stand and sit on his lap, he welcomes you and for the first time you notice how tight he’s always wanted to hold you, forever stuck in his grasp. You straighten the collar on his shirt and fix his hair, his eyes shiny from his tears. 

“You could, you could fuck it all up and lose it.” 

You press your forehead against his, “but I need you too much.” 

[mrs-kmikaelson]

Our Song and Dance¹

Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader Summary: You'd grown used to dancing the same dance over and over again, the victor's dance, but then you start dancing with Finnick Odair and you feel things you never thought you'd feel. So you let yourself enjoy the dance, even though you knew that every song inevitably came to an end. Warnings: super-duper-duper long, exploitation of minors, forced prostitution, unrequited love, complicated relationships, violence, death, mental health issues, canadian spelling lol, and i make up some names (lmk if i missed smth) Words: 19.7K

Masterlist | Part 2

a/n: i alr have this finished, but it was way too long to post in one part (as you can see) so i split it up into three parts. this one goes from pre-hunger games to right before the quell. had this idea in my head as soon as i finished thg, so i hope u enjoy!

Y/N Y/L/N, victor of the 67th Hunger Games. You were from district 4, one of the youngest victors that not only your district has ever had, but also all of Panem. Of course, you weren’t the youngest; that title belonged to none other than Finnick Odair.

A man you hated with a passion and, frankly, a man who didn’t like you very much either.

You could still remember the night you met.

Snow was droning on and on, giving a speech about something you couldn’t care less about. It was all lies, anyway, and you were only gonna end up in some rich man’s bed tonight, so you’d prefer to go through that interaction as drunk as you could be. With that thought, you downed the rest of your flute.

“Ah, careful, Princess.” Before you even saw the person, you knew it was him. His voice was so easily recognizable, even though you had never met, not even after living in the same district, then the Victors’ Village, or even at these little Capitol parties. 

Finnick.

You turned, a faux smile on your face that he fully reciprocated. “Snow wouldn’t want the Capitol’s pride and joy to be under the influence,” he said, teasing but with an undertone that put you off.

You didn’t give a damn what Snow thought, but you weren’t gonna say that, especially not in his own home. Instead, you gave him the smile you gave the rest of Panem and directed the topic of conversation away from the President. “I won my Games, Finnick. Trust me, I’m not a lightweight.” Oh, but you wish you were. You wish you could get so drunk that you’d forget who you were entirely.

A part of you felt bad: twenty-three other people died while you walked out of the arena, and yet you wanted nothing more than for your life to end. A part of you wondered if the great Finnick Odair ever felt this way, either, but it wouldn’t be good small talk to ask.

Finnick’s grin only widened. “Pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

Your eyes just so imperceptibly narrowed. “Likewise.”

He started to walk away, but he suddenly paused like he forgot something, leaning closer to you. Your breath got caught in your throat when you felt his on your neck. Your eyes locked, and all of a sudden, you wondered how it was possible that you never noticed how beautiful his eyes were. 

“May the odds be ever in your favour, darling,” he whispered, and then he walked away without giving you another glance.

That night, Finnick didn’t leave your mind. It wasn’t until there was a resident of the Capitol lying on top of you that you stopped thinking about him. When you were in that position, you stopped thinking about everything, really.

When you walked out of your hotel room, done with your little job, Finnick was brought back to the forefront of your mind as your eyes met his. He looked like he was in the same state as you, also having been leaving a room. He looked surprised to see you.

You stared at him for a moment, but then you let yourself disappear down the hallway before he could say anything.

You knew what that meant; you knew it wasn’t his own room that he was leaving. When you got to your own room, you realized you were much more alike than you thought. You supposed that you couldn’t be surprised; Finnick was desirable, so of course Snow would put him up for sale.

You were in the exact same boat.

Since that night, you saw him in a different light.

You two didn’t talk when you got back home, no, but at your next Capitol event, you decided that you’d refuse to leave him alone, to leave someone who was going through the same thing as you to their own devices. That’s what you told yourself, but deep down, you just didn’t want to suffer in silence, either.

So you went and found him after a night with another Capitol pig. Standing outside, hands in his pockets, he looked so calm, but you saw a storm brewing in his eyes that only few could ever decipher.

You went and stood next to him, even though it was freezing cold out. He glanced over at you, and then his face became surprised, not surprise at you being there, but at you being there with him. Neither of you said anything; it was either that you were too afraid of a jabberjay overhearing or of yourselves. You just stood there in a comfortable silence.

You’d learn that, with Finnick, sometimes doing nothing could mean everything.

The two of you went on to do this every time you were there until, slowly, you graduated from just silence to holding each other. Oh, Finnick Odair was a cocky asshole, but when you were in the Capitol, he wasn’t him and you weren’t you. You were just two people that needed comfort, and that was enough.

You still didn’t talk, though, and when you were at home, you didn’t communicate at all. That was why you were surprised when you answered your door to see him standing on the other side.

Finnick went back to being Finnick, striding into your home without so much as an invitation. This caused you to roll your eyes, but they suddenly widened at his words. “Caesar Flickerman is on TV, saying that we’re dating.”

If you were drinking something, you would’ve spit it out. “What?” An incredulous look was painted onto your face.

Finnick, on the other hand, was a little more stoic, not exactly the charmer he was on television or in Capitol balls, but you could easily guess why—and if you hadn’t, then he was gonna tell you, anyways. “You know what this means.” He looked you in the eye, jaw clenched. “Two of Snow’s best—the Prince and Princess of Panem—dating? It’s the last thing he wants.”

“Finnick-”

“No, he won’t be able to sell us if we’re together, and if he can’t sell us, then he’ll start killing the people we love.” This was the first time either of you were even acknowledging the situation you were in.

You felt stung for some reason, even though you didn’t love Finnick—and he didn’t love you. But, deep down, no matter how much you tried to repress it, you knew there was something between you, so hearing him speak to you this way, like you were just nothing, hurt.

However, you got over your feelings quickly, the same way you always had. You moved your thoughts away from your heart and started thinking with your head. You were quiet for a second until you let out a soft gasp, like a light bulb went off in your head.

This time, you made eye contact with Finnick effortlessly. “What if this is exactly what we need?” You asked, a glint in your eye that he hadn’t seen before.

The blond scoffed. “I don’t see how our families dying is exactly what we need, Y/N.”

“No- no, Finnick, you already said it.” You grabbed onto his shoulders. “The Capitol- hell, everyone already thinks we’re the Prince and Princess of Panem. If we give them what they want, then- then we’d be unstoppable.” You paused to let him weigh in, but he only stared heavily at you, not a trace of what he was thinking on display, so you continued, “Snow and all of those Capitol motherfuckers will eat this shit up, Finnick. And then we’ll be free.”

You were trying not to show any emotion, either, but you couldn’t help it. At the mere thought of freedom, something you never thought was possible, you felt so many different things at once. While you were holding your feelings on your sleeve, Finnick was less easy to read.

But, in seconds, you knew exactly how he felt.

“We will never be free, Y/N.”

He walked out after that, leaving you alone in your living room. He’d never know it, but you stayed in that same spot for three hours, staring at where he once stood. His words had awakened something in you, the part of yourself that’d been thrown into the Hunger Games at only fifteen-years-old. 

At the time, you thought you were going to die. You were hopeless, but after you won, you realized there was hope after all. You could still make it. Even as Snow allowed your body to be violated, your mind to deteriorate, you still had hope. But Finnick’s words brought back that frightened little girl in you that you thought died.

You’d later realize just how lucky you were that he buried her again. He came back and told you that he’d do it, and as easily as he brought that little girl back to life, he drowned her.

It wasn’t easy at first, pretending to be in love. You didn’t know the first thing about it, but Finnick helped you as if he’d been doing it all his life.

“C’mon, Y/N, it’s gonna be fine-”

“No, it’s not gonna be fine. Caesar’s gonna call us out immediately- and if he doesn’t, then Snow will-”

“Y/N.” Finnick cut off your nervous ramblings with a stern calling of your name. Even him saying your name was still weird to you. You weren’t used to so much conversation with the victor, but now you were gonna have to pretend to love him. “We’re gonna be fine.”

You weren’t convinced, and he saw that with the twitching of your fingers. You knew Finnick was a great actor, and normally you were, too, but this situation was unlike any other that you’d ever been in. It was foreign territory for you.

“Look,” he grabbed onto your hand, “whenever you get nervous up there, you just hold my hand, alright? You’re not alone in this, okay? I’m right here.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say your heart skipped a beat. If you didn’t know any better, you’d even say you felt a spark when his skin met yours.

For a second, you pretended that you weren’t pretending. You pretended that you were holding hands because you were two kids in love, not because you had to survive. You pretended you were never in The Games, that you never killed so ruthlessly just to live without truly living. You pretended that you weren’t you, and Finnick wasn’t Finnick, and you were holding hands just because, not because you were about to go on TV and lie.

But that second ended far too quickly as you pulled your hand out of his grasp, nodding. “Okay,” you took a deep breath, repeating his words to yourself, “we’re gonna be okay.”

“Of course, we are. Now tell me again how we met.”

When the time came for the actual interview, you never let Finnick’s hand go.

The experience became more familiar to you as you went on. It was the same as any other show you’d put on for the Capitol. When you were younger, you dreamed of being a storyteller.

Now, you told stories of a life of yours that’d never existed.

Finnick and you were thrusted into the public eye, reciting the same stories day after day. It almost felt like it was actually real, and sometimes, you wished it was.

He’d look at you with a look of love in his eyes in front of all of the cameras, touching you tenderly. Oh, he was a wonderful liar. He even made you believe it for a second, too. But you knew that no such thing would ever happen.

Finnick Odair would never fall for a girl like you. Even if you were slowly falling for him.

During nights alone, you’d marvel at the turn of events. Finnick was once a man that you hated, but now look at you. You didn’t even know if you were faking it anymore. But it is fake, you’d remind yourself. He doesn’t love you, and you won’t love him.

You weren’t gonna let yourself love him. Truth be told, you were never gonna let yourself love anybody in the first place. Loving someone only made a new liability, a new weakness for the Capitol to exploit, but you could not love Finnick.

You’d been through a lot; your heart had taken many blows and survived, but you knew loving Finnick would only one day break it into a million little pieces. Still, it’s not like he made it easy.

You were lying in your bed- your shared bed with Finnick. Since announcing that you were dating, you moved in with him. You both decided it’d be easier to hide it all that way, easier for the public to believe, too. Sharing a bed was his idea—“just in case,” he’d said.

You wanted to object, but what would you even tell him? That you were afraid of falling in love with him? You would never even put the mere idea into his head. So you went along with it.

It was funny, though: you never went to bed alone, but that’s still how it felt. Being next to him, under the covers… it didn’t make you as warm as you hoped it would.

He didn’t live with anyone else. From what you gathered, Mags, your shared mentor, was his only family. His parents died of sickness early on; Mags took him in and kept him alive, all the way up until he was sent to The Games. Finnick didn’t get sappy with you often, but you knew that he couldn’t lose her.

What he was doing for Snow, he was doing for Mags. You thought Mags was the only person he cared about, but you learned that this wasn’t true. There was one other person who he was close to, who he’d do anything to keep safe. That person was Annie Cresta.

You met her once. She was beautiful and sweet, so you understood immediately why Finnick was in love with her. He never talked to you about her, but you could tell just from how he looked at her that she was the light of his life, even if she herself wasn’t aware of that.

Annie was good, the perfect girl for Finnick. She didn’t come with all the baggage you had, she wasn’t as rude, and she always knew what to say. You would’ve wanted them together, too, if it weren’t for the fact that Finnick was becoming your Annie. He was becoming your person, and so it killed you to know that not only was he in love with another girl, but he was also unhappy.

He’d never be happy with you. While you wished you could spare him the torment and just let him be with her, you had people you cared about, too, and he was now also on that list. So your job was to keep you all alive, not happy.

The door to your bedroom opened, interrupting your train of thought. You faced away from the entrance, but you knew it was Finnick. He had perfected soundless footsteps, even though you weren’t in an arena anymore. But you supposed you were still fighting for your lives, anyway.

He climbed into bed, letting out a big exhale when his back hit the mattress. You didn’t greet him, nor did he greet you, even though he knew you were awake. You’d gone through this whole song and dance already. You had to pretend in front of the cameras; you weren’t gonna do that in here, too.

The two of you were silent. This wasn’t a silence like before when you stood together in the Capitol after those horrible nights. This was a silence that was suffocating.

Things were never the same after you decided to go through with this charade. Maybe you were almost friends before, but now you were allies at most, just there to help the other survive. Oh, you wished you could be friends, but life was never so kind.

As if he could hear you begging for companionship, he whispered, “Y/N?”

Your breath hitched. “Yes?”

There was a beat of silence before his response. You wondered what his face looked like, but you wouldn’t dare turn around. “Can we- can we just be together tonight?”

Out of all the things he could’ve said, that didn’t even make your list. You sharply inhaled. Finnick didn’t sound like Finnick at all. He sounded small, and vulnerable, and scared, all states that he’d never let you see him in. But he was.

“What do you mean?” You didn’t turn around. “We are together.”

So unlike Finnick, he stammered, “No, I mean- can I- I want to hold you.”

If this were the dance you compared it to in your head, then you’d be stumbling over your own feet. He’d never asked about anything like that before. In fact, Finnick never even seemed to like you or this predicament much. Sure, you interested him, and maybe you were friends, but you knew that if he could’ve pick anyone else to dance this dance with, he would’ve.

You wondered what brought him to this point. Maybe it had something to do with Annie, but at that moment, you couldn’t bother thinking about it. He’d never know it, but you could never say no to him.

So you turned around and let him wrap his arm around you. But little did he know, you obliged not just to comfort him, but also yourself.

You’d fall asleep in Finnick’s arms every night after that. 

You’d always been so independent, so alone, that you forgot what it felt like to lean on someone, even if it was just for a little while in the dead of night. But when Finnick held you, sleep came easier and nightmares came less.

He had no idea that he became your knight in shining armour; he never meant to, but he did. Soon after you started “dating,” Snow left you alone. You still attended Capitol parties, still mentored kids every year, but you no longer found yourself in bed with members of Snow’s cabinet, and neither did Finnick.

It was easier once it stopped, but you still had to grapple with the pain of what had already happened to you; all of this didn’t even take into account The Games. Sure, you were done, but you still had to come back once a year and prepare a kid to kill or be killed. Nothing dredged up old memories like that did.

Doing it with him was what got you through it. When you lost a kid, Finnick was there to hold you and reassure you and himself that it wasn’t your fault, that you couldn’t have done much more to stop it. At times like those especially, you had to reel yourself in and remind yourself that, yes, he cared for you, but he wasn’t in love with you.

There were times that every bone in your body told you the exact opposite, that Finnick’s actions told you the exact opposite. Sometimes, he’d kiss you for the cameras and made you fall for it, too.

God, you were a team, such a great team. Would it be so horrible of you to assume you could be more?

You’d later realize that, yes, it was.

Because at the reaping for the 70th Hunger Games, Annie Cresta’s name was called and your little fantasy of a relationship with Finnick was shattered to pieces.

His usually calm demeanour was broken as he ran toward her as soon as you both got on the train, engulfing her in a hug and soothing her while she sobbed. You just watched from the sidelines, a frown on your face. You wished you were frowning because your dear friend Annie was just chosen to be in a fight to the death, but you were frowning because Finnick had never hugged you like that.

There were no cameras here; this wasn’t for show. He never looked at you like that when there weren’t any cameras around.

You felt like you were intruding on a private moment, even though you were just standing there, even though you were supposed to be his girlfriend, not Annie. A girlfriend would’ve probably cleared her throat, interrupted the interaction, but you couldn’t find the courage to do that.

Instead, you waited for the moment to end and walked over to her yourself when Finnick stepped away, giving her a tight hug as if she hadn’t just brought you to the brink of tears. But that didn’t matter. Annie could possibly die, so your little feelings for Finnick were pretty insignificant at the moment.

You tossed those very feelings to the side, directing all your attention to preparing your tribute. Finnick was trying to explain everything, but he was too worried, so you took over for him, pushing forth all your efforts while he focused on the boy that’d been reaped from your district.

You always tried your best with the tributes, always, but this wasn’t just any tribute. This was Annie Cresta, your friend and the love of Finnick’s life. You needed her to make it out of this alive—Finnick wouldn’t survive without her.

You gave her every piece of advice you could think of during that trip, digging through your memory for things you might’ve even forgotten. You wished you could help the boy in the same way, but there could only be one victor in these Games, and it had to be her.

Remember that these are games, Annie. Don’t worry about the killing once you’re in the arena; you need to treat it like a game, like the other tributes are just pieces that need to be knocked off the board, you told her. You hated every word that came out of your mouth, but she needed to hear it. She needed to overcome the shock now so she didn’t get choked up during the actual Games like you did.

When the time finally came for you to send the tributes off into the arena, you hugged yourself, taking deep breaths to try and calm down. You imagined that it was Finnick’s arms that were around you, but you weren’t gonna ask him to comfort you. He was the one that needed comforting, but you knew he wouldn’t accept it, so you didn’t offer.

Instead, you worked your ass off to get Annie sponsors, to get people to like her as if they didn’t already. You didn’t sleep for days, and neither did Finnick until he accidentally fell asleep for a few hours one day.

You both watched as she took the tips you’d given her, using them in her own way. She was small, but she was smart and she picked up on how to play the game quickly.

Only when the last tribute was dead did a sigh of relief finally leave you. Your shoulders slumped as you sat in front of the TV. Finnick’s muttering fell upon deaf ears as static filled your brain. She made it, you thought. She’s okay.

But that didn’t make life any more okay.

After all, nobody ever really won The Games.

“Annie- Annie, it’s alright-” 

“No, it’s not!” You heard something break, like it had thrown it to the ground. When you walked further into your house, your guess was proven right. Finnick and Annie stood in your living room, the former worried and the latter frantic, pieces of a broken vase all over the ground.

“Nothing is okay, Finn! Nothing! Do you hear me- nothing is okay!” The redhead was pacing around with your so called boyfriend trying to stop and calm her down. They were both so panicked that neither of them noticed you, and you didn’t announce your presence, either.

You only stood from the side, just like on that Capitol train. The Annie that went into that arena was innocent. She was eighteen, but she was still more of a child than either of you ever got the chance to be. Now that she won, she didn’t look so innocent anymore.

She wore a look that was so familiar to you. She was alive, but Annie had never looked more like a ghost of herself.

“Annie, please-” Finnick’s voice cracked mid-sentence. He kept trying to get close to her, but she moved away every time. The tears in his eyes made yours watery, too. You had never seen him look so broken, not even as you stood in the Capitol together those cold nights after being used.

If you weren’t sure of how much Finnick loved Annie, you were now.

“No, no, nothing is okay!” She screamed, tears streaming down her face. She suddenly stopped, letting out a sob before collapsing onto the ground. Finnick ran to her right away, pulling her close and rocking her as she repeated the same thing over and over.

You hadn’t even noticed you were crying until you felt the tear falling onto your cheek, wiping at it immediately and turning around to walk away as quietly as you possibly could. You weren’t gonna just stand by and do nothing while Annie fell apart and Finnick cut himself trying to put the pieces back together. You couldn’t.

You found yourself in the kitchen, putting a kettle on the stove to distract yourself. Your eyes zeroed in on it as you tried to block out the sound of Annie’s crying, trying not to cry yourself. At one point, you succeeded, because you couldn’t hear anything anymore.

You don’t know how long you stood there, but you were eventually broken out of your trance by a hand reaching out in front of you to turn off the stove, moving the kettle. It was only now that you realized how loudly it was whistling.

You turned to see the hand belonged to Finnick who now poured the hot water into your expensive tea cups. They were a gift given to you by a patron of the Capitol, an old man with kids and a wife. He was somewhat of a regular of yours, and so he gave you that tea set to try and make himself feel better for what he was doing, along with many other gifts.

You never told Finnick any of this. You wondered if he would so readily pull them out if he knew where they came from.

He wordlessly put the tea bags into the cups, sliding one over on the island to where you stood. Then he brought the cup to his lips, taking a sip of the scalding liquid like it was nothing. You ignored your disbelief and the rational part of your brain, picking the cup to do the same thing.

When the tea met your tongue, it burned, even as it went down your throat, but you still went back in for a second sip, anyway. This pain was able to distract you from all the thoughts bouncing around in your head, and so that made it feel like it was worth it. You wondered if this was Finnick’s logic, too.

You didn’t say anything for a long while, didn’t ask about Annie or where she went. You knew he must’ve known that you heard what happened, but he didn’t mention it, either. You assumed that she fell asleep.

You wished you could fall asleep so easily, too.

Your song kept playing as you both danced around the same topics, standing together silently as your world crumbled. You danced, and danced, and danced, until your tea cups were empty, but the song was still playing.

Finnick’s voice cut through the silence of your music effortlessly, even though he was still so quiet.

“Sometimes, I think she would’ve been better off if she died.” You slowly brought your head up to meet his eyes, but they were aimed at the cup in his hand. He looked nothing like the Prince of Panem, the charming man who always had something witty to say. No, he looked beaten down, just as lifeless as Annie. Maybe you looked as lifeless as you felt, too; maybe you were all so unaware of how broken you seemed.

You didn’t know what to say to his confession. So you didn’t say anything at all.

You’d never know where that conversation would’ve went, because in seconds, Finnick collected your cups, put them in the sink, and then he left you standing there.

His words from before echoed through your head. We will never be free, Y/N.

And maybe he was right.

Annie was back home, but she never really came back from that arena—none of you did. Hell, you were thrusted into a life you never wanted, a victor’s life, as soon as you were out. You thanked God that Annie wasn’t gonna have to go through what you did; the way she was spinning out made her undesirable. At least a good thing came out of her losing it.

Oh, you were starting to find a silver-lining with everything. You had to—otherwise, you’d lose it, just like Annie. You had to find some sort of good in this situation because, otherwise, what was the point?

Time supposedly healed all wounds, but you felt like you were still bleeding. You just learned to conceal it better than others.

Before The Games, you had friends. Now you really only talked to Finnick, and you two didn’t talk much, either. Every now and then, you’d see Annie and Mags, but they weren’t your people. And your family… well, how close could you be with them after what happened? You weren’t the same girl your mother raised.

She could barely even look at you anymore.

But you couldn’t think about any of this. If you did, you’d fall apart, and you couldn’t do that. You had a role to play, an image to protect—for your safety, for your family’s safety, for his safety.

You couldn’t afford to break down like that in your living room and throw things. You wanted to, so badly, but you didn’t have that luxury.

So your song kept playing, and you danced along with it.

Finnick’s walls went back up, too. His charisma was like a light bulb that briefly flickered, but it was back now. He was dancing, too. But, without even realizing it, you both held each other tighter at night, as if you were trying not to lose the other to the tornado that was your life.

However, when you woke up, you both pretended the tornado didn’t even exist.

Annie wasn’t one for pretending. Oh, she got wrapped up into the tornado the second she was declared a victor and there was no saving her anymore. Yes, she would’ve been better off dead, maybe you all would’ve been, but if you thought about this for too long, if you let the song stop, then you’d get caught in the cyclone, too.

You pretended for a year, attending Capitol galas with a smile on your face, getting interviewed right next to Finnick with his hand in yours, acting like you were the picture perfect couple. He spoke about you like he knew you like the back of his hand, but truth be told, he didn’t know you at all; he barely ever tried to. You didn’t blame him, though; it was hard to try to talk to someone when the music was so loud.

Then came the 71st Hunger Games, and you were mentors again. Meeting the tributes, it was almost like the music stopped- almost. The girl was quiet but angry, and she reminded you so much of yourself. The boy kept cracking jokes that she didn’t laugh at, jokes that were probably inappropriate for a time like this, but you knew he wasn’t doing it to be an ass. This was his way of coping.

He reminded you of Finnick.

Looking at these kids was like looking into a mirror. On the last day of training, he finally got a reaction out of her, made her smile with a faint blush on her cheeks. Oh, these kids should’ve been laughing together in the diner back home, not on their way to die.

They were too young and too innocent. It makes you wonder if things would’ve been different if you and Finnick had met before The Games. Would that have made soothed the heartbreak?

You didn’t know. But when you saw that boy crying as he held her in that arena, blood pouring onto him from her stab-wound, you knew that heartbreak was what he felt.

Too young. They were too young.

The boy died too. He didn’t even put up a fight.

These kids were just kids, and they died young.

Just like you and Finnick did.

You sat in your room at the Capitol, swirling your scotch around in your glass. It was a crystal glass so beautiful you knew it could’ve only been crafted by hand, but you didn’t want to admire it; you wanted to throw it at the wall.

Their names were Delta and Aalto. Aalto was the more talkative one; he said he dreamed of opening his own bakery one day, right in the middle of the district with food that everyone could afford and enjoy.

He’d never get to do that now.

And Delta- she didn’t know what she wanted out of life yet. She never got the chance to figure it out.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.

The door to the room opened, making you look up from the liquor in your hand to see Finnick walking into the room. He looked defeated. Of course, he was better at hiding it than you were, but you knew how to read him better now, after all these years.

The bed dipped as he sat down next to you. You held your glass out, almost like a peace offering, and he took it without much thought, downing it in one go.

You sat there together the same way you had many times before, not saying a word. But this time felt different. It felt like there was something you were supposed to say. So you turned to look at Finnick, trying to see if he felt the same weight, only to see that he was already looking at you.

You could tell just by his eyes that he felt it, too. He opened his mouth, then closed it like he’d lost his train of thought. When you met him, you never thought you’d see the day when Finnick was speechless.

Look at how wrong you were.

You opened your mouth after a few seconds, wanting to articulate your feelings in some way, but Finnick’s lips slammed against yours before you get anything out. Without thinking, you kissed back; it felt like second-nature to you.

This wasn’t the first time you’d kissed, but he had never kissed you like this, so passionately, not a camera in sight. He was kissing you like you were air and he’d been holding his breath for so long, like you were the treasure he’d been searching for and he didn’t want to let go.

It felt like nothing you’d ever experienced.

When you eventually pulled away for air and opened your eyes, you were brought back to the real world. There was something you were supposed to say. But you quickly disregarded it, pulling him back in for another kiss before he could notice the way you were looking at him.

Yes, there was something you were supposed to say. But you couldn’t put it into words.

So you hoped that this kiss said everything that you couldn’t.

You were both grieving, and you were both there. And you knew that Finnick didn’t like you like that, so you weren’t gonna get your hopes up. This meant nothing, even if it felt like everything for you when it was happening.

He was the only person you’d ever done anything like this with before. You did things with those people Snow set you up with, but that didn’t count. You were doing this because you wanted to. You didn’t know if this was his first time or not, but you weren’t gonna ask. You did everything but talk for the rest of the night.

When you woke up, it was still dark out and Finnick was still asleep. You stared at him for a few seconds, his fluffy blond hair that you messed up, his swollen lips. He looked so peaceful like this; you couldn’t bear to wake him up and ruin that, bring him back to this nightmare.

So you got up as quietly as you could, wrapping yourself in a robe and closing the door to the bedroom, walking into the living room. The rooms the Capitol provided the victors were beautiful, but never beautiful enough to make you forget about the ugly reason that you were here.

You sat on the couch, exhaling and leaning back. You were gonna sit there in silence, but your song kept playing, and the record was skipping, and you were starting to get a headache, so you turned on the TV.

Without having to change the channel at all, you were immediately met with the news, Caesar Flickerman’s face on the flat screen. It wasn’t long before you realized why he was so excited: the Hunger Games were over. Someone won.

Caesar’s attitude made your mood go sour. He was behaving like twenty-three children weren’t just killed. It didn’t matter if they died of starvation, dehydration, an animal, or actually another tribute—it was all murder, and the Capitol was the perpetrator. It disgusted you that there were people who found enjoyment in watching these Games, Caesar Flickerman included. They’d pretend to be sympathetic, but at the end of the day, you were all just circus animals to them.

The victor’s face came onto the TV, and you immediately recognized her from the rankings. Johanna Mason. Caesar kept talking, explaining how Johanna had managed to cause so many people to be enamoured of her, and you suddenly felt sick.

Snow was gonna jump at this opportunity. He was gonna use her, too.

You turned off the TV, going back to your room and getting back into bed like you’d never left. Your song came back on, and you went back to preferring to listen to it instead of your own thoughts. You weren’t gonna think about Johanna much longer; there wasn’t any point.

There was nothing you could do.

The next time you woke up and it was actually morning, you were surprised to see that Finnick was still there. While you were sleeping, he managed to snake his arms around you. 

You didn’t get up, even though there were Capitol duties to attend to.

You stayed in bed and pretended that you were a normal couple, that maybe Finnick actually felt something for you, that you weren’t in the Capitol right now, that the world wasn’t so fucked up, that you weren’t so fucked up. But you didn’t pretend for long, eventually getting up and facing the world that you didn’t want to be apart of but had been sucked into.

He didn’t tell you this, but he was pretending, too.

You both went to the gatherings you had to go to, talked to the people you had to talk to, kept smiles on your faces, and shook Snow’s hand, even though it made you want to puke. You endured it all—you both did. The Prince and Princess of Panem…

You realized it was true what they said, heavy is the head that wears the crown. This figurative crown was weighing you down; you wondered if it’d be so coveted if people got the chance to feel how you felt.

Then you went back home, even if it didn’t really feel like a home to you. It was still all you had. But Finnick kept surprising you.

Your dance suddenly changed. The song was still playing, but the dance was different, almost like that night you’d spent together had actually meant something.

You started having dinner together every night. Before, you often forgot to eat, but now how could you? You were beginning to look forward to your daily dinners; there wasn’t much more to look forward to in the life you led.

He made it hard for you not to fall even more in love with him.

You two still didn’t talk during dinner, but it almost did feel normal, like you were a family- like you could be a family.

And then the dance changed again, and that dream felt even more real.

You pulled your chair out at your dinner table, sitting down across from Finnick. You were both dressed “down” in more comfortable clothes, but you knew there was some people in the district that still couldn’t afford them. That bothered you, but when you had dinner, most of your worries were pushed to the back of your mind.

When you two had dinner, you just enjoyed the dance.

You were a few minutes into dinner when you noticed that Finnick wasn’t eating but he was staring at you. He hadn’t stared at you like that since when you first met, so curiously, like you were a secret he wanted to be let in on.

You couldn’t ignore his stare, even if you tried. However, you tried to act nonchalant. “Is there something you want to say?” You quizzed, twirling another bite of pasta like you were unaffected by his gaze.

Finnick responded in the same beat, so much like the Finnick that was charismatic and lively, not the quiet one you normally lived with. “Something I want to ask you, actually.”

“Oh,” you said, immediately kicking yourself at how stupid you sounded. “Well, ask away.” He didn’t need to be told twice.

“What’s your favourite colour?” 

You were caught off guard by his question, blinking like you were trying to figure out if you just imagined him saying him that or if he really did. He blinked back at you but never faltered.

“What?”

He repeated himself, slower this time. “What is your favourite colour?” You blinked again when you realized he was being totally serious. “You know, colours, like a rainbow-”

“I know what colours are, Finnick.”

“Ohhhh.” His eyes got big as if he thought you actually didn’t know what a rainbow was. “Sorry, you were just looking at me like I had said the most absurd thing you’ve ever heard. So what’s your favourite colour?”

You couldn’t stop the corners of your lips going up as his grin just got wider. God, you hadn’t seen him smile like that in so long. It actually looked real.

You thought about it for a second, looking right into his eyes when you came up with an answer. “It’s blue, not really dark or light either. Sort of green- it’s close to grey, too.”

He looked at you for a few seconds before blurting, “Y/N, that sounds like the least vibrant shade of blue I’ve ever heard of.”

You laughed. “It’s vibrant to me!” He laughed, too, shaking his head like you were crazy. That shade of blue that you described was more vibrant than any other blue you’d ever seen. You could never tired of looking at it whenever you looked into Finnick’s eyes.

When the laughter died down, you asked him the same question. “Okay, now what’s your favourite colour?”

He shrugged. “Don’t have one.”

You scoffed, “Oh, come. on. You have to have a favourite colour; you can’t be that boring.”

“That boring? I’m not boring at all,” he argued, a look of faux offence on his face.

You snorted. “I beg to differ.”

“I can make you beg a lot more if you don’t take that back.” Your eyes immediately went wide and, against your will, a faint redness spread on your cheeks.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he said, crossing his arms. He looked pleased at the reaction he got out of you. “Take it back.”

You scoffed again, but you weren’t sure if it was because of your stubbornness or because you wanted to see how far you could push him. “I’m not taking anything back.”

He just stared at you for a few seconds before flashing that famous smirk of his, dimples appearing in his cheeks. “Really?”

You crossed your arms, too, nodding. “Mhm.”

He chuckled. “We’ll see if you still feel that way in the morning.”

And then he spent the rest of the night showing you just how boring he wasn’t.

The day after, you didn’t wake up dejected but instead with a smile on your face. You didn’t get out of bed at all, staying in Finnick’s arms. You felt giddy, like a school girl. There were no thoughts of his lack of feelings for you, Annie, or The Games. You just laid there and enjoyed the moment.

It didn’t even feel like you were pretending.

When Finnick woke up, you did it all over again. You ended up staying in bed all day together, cancelling your plans.

And when the time came to get out of bed, to go back to the real world, the music didn’t go back to normal. It was more upbeat now. You kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the beat to drop, but it didn’t.

Finnick didn’t pretend like you two sleeping together never happened. In fact, you two kept doing it almost every day. You actually had conversations during dinner. You learned basic things about him that you hadn’t known in all of the time you were living together.

He made you laugh often. You stopped crying so much.

Is this what happiness feels like? you wondered. If it was, you never wanted anything different. Whatever Finnick felt for you, it didn’t matter. As long as he kept making you happy, it didn’t matter.

You were so in love with him that it stopped mattering if he reciprocated your feelings. You didn’t want anything to ruin this, what you had. Your relationship was the most special thing you’d ever had, even if you didn’t know what to call it, so you were gonna do your damn best to hold onto it.

The things he’d say in front of the cameras felt real, then the things he did when you were alone made you believe it even more. Whatever this was between you, it felt real.

So real.

You were stirring something on the stove when two arms snaked around your waist, tickling you, making a squeal fly from your lips. “Finnick!” You screeched, trying to suppress your giggles as you turned around. The culprit (who was shirtless) didn’t look guilty at all, a shit-eating grin on his face. You shoved his shoulder. “I am trying to cook us breakfast.”

He snorted. “Yeah, trying and failing.” You shoved him again, causing him to laugh. “I’m sorry, you can’t cook!”

You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes. “I’ll have you know, I can cook very well, actually.”

He wrapped his arms around you again. “You know, you’re cute when you pout.”

“I’m not pouting!” You exclaimed, but a blush still arose on your cheeks that Finnick noticed right away. It was almost like he was always watching for those types of things, always trying to say or do something to get you red.

“You’re even cuter when you blush.” 

Your blush worsened, but you weren’t gonna give him the satisfaction of your defeat. “I’m not blushing. We’re in a kitchen, and it’s hot.”

He pulled you closer to him, grin widening. “Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart, about your blushing or your cooking.” He glanced behind you. “Oh, look, burnt food.”

Your eyes went wide, immediately turning around. You groaned when you saw the brown eggs and the trail of smoke coming from them. “It’s all your fault, Finn, you distracted me.”

He gave your head a kiss, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. “Sure, darling, whatever you say.” Luckily, you were turned away from him so he couldn’t see how your cheeks reddened. You still weren’t used to the pet names, even though Finnick seemed to adore them. “Let’s leave the cooking to me from now on.”

You lightly scoffed, “Whatever.” He kissed your cheek before you started walking away, planning to sit on the couch while you waited for him to cook the food. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was probably smug.

“Who messes up eggs?” he muttered under his breath once you were a few feet away.

“I heard that, Finnick!” you shouted, but he only let out a loud laugh.

You shook your head at him, plopping down onto the couch in the adjoining living room and turning the TV on, but it was really just background noise. You found it much more enticing to watch Finnick cook. The way he moved so swiftly looked effortless; he knew what he was doing, that was sure. And it didn’t help that he was shirtless.

You discreetly stared at him for a while—or, you thought you were being discreet. Without looking up from what he was doing, he teased, “You know that I can feel you ogling at me, right?”

You went red as a tomato. “Shut up, Finnick!” you shrieked, turning back to the TV as if you even knew what was playing. His laugh boomed and you turned up the volume to tune it out, only causing him to laugh even louder.

Even though you were thoroughly embarrassed that he’d caught you staring at him, a smile still found its way onto your face. Around Finnick, it was hard not find a reason to smile.

You’d be content if you didn’t do anything for the rest of your life but wake up to him every day.

You spent many more mornings like that together, and lunches, and dinners, and everything in between. You exchanged jokes and playful banter constantly. Finnick really did make your cheeks hurt.

But he knew when to be serious.

There were still nights when you’d wake up from nightmares, and he’d comfort you back to sleep every time. When you caught him in a nightmare, you’d try your best to repay the favour, even though that didn’t happen often. He rarely wanted you to see him like that, so he hid his nightmares, but you did everything you could to keep him happy while he was awake to make up for it.

When you went to the Capitol, all of the darkness crept back in, squeezing in through the cracks of the walls that you’d built—for both of you. But you kept each other grounded. You weren’t alone.

Once, he had to talk you back from the edge as you had a panic attack in the bathroom. He locked the door and stayed there with you until you calmed down. You told him that you saw someone you hadn’t seen up close in a while, an old patron, and that just opened the floodgates. You saw his hands ball up into fists; he tried to hide the anger on his face, but you saw it and you understood it. 

He was angry at the Capitol, and so were you. He’d been through the same things you had, and that made it so much easier to cope, to have someone that understood. He understood for you and you understood for him, and so when things were bad, they at least became more okay. As long as you were there for each other, things were okay.

Meeting Johanna Mason at a later event nearly brought you right back to the brink. Her family was dead, she’d told you. And you wished you hadn’t understood so fast. You wished that none of you ever had to understand these things, that you could’ve stayed kids for longer before childhood was ripped away from you.

It’s not fair, you cried to Finnick. He killed her family. She said no, and he killed her family.

He let you cry on his shoulder, rubbing his hand up and down your back as he whispered, I know. It’s not fair, I know. But it was the world you lived in, and, unfortunately, neither of you had the power to do anything about it, even though you were the so called Prince and Princess of Panem.

So you did what you could. You were there for Johanna like how you were there for Finnick when you still didn’t know him. Both of you were there for her, teaching her the moves to your dance so she could dance with you while you were all at the Capitol together.

She was brutally honest, maybe even rude to the average onlooker, but it was what The Games did to her. Finnick and you understood that, and that led to you both forming a friendship with her. Coping with other people, people who understood, was the best painkiller that not even money could provide.

The Games were the hardest, but you went through that together, too. You trained those tributes with everything you had. You tried your best, but sometimes, not even that was enough to keep them alive. Finnick and you would grieve together. At times, he was more rational than you, reminding you that it wasn’t your fault, that these were games made to kill.

Whatever you went through, you went through it together. The good days, the bad days, the laughs, the tears—you were together every step of the way.

Things went like this for years. You really were a team, and nothing could convince you otherwise this time. You loved him more and more each day, but you never told him that; you didn’t need to, and you didn’t need him to love you, either. Being there, being together was good enough.

Your song never got old. You were so in sync as you danced. Oh, you never would’ve thought that Finnick Odair of all people would not only make your life bearable, but also joyful.

You were fake boyfriend and girlfriend, and yeah those lines started to blur, but you also became best friends over time. 

Finnick and you lied together in bed, the TV going on in the background. Your head was on his chest as he pet your hair. It was your seventh time doing this mentor thing, but it never seemed to get easier.

Your tributes were promising, but they still died early on, even though you both got them as many sponsors as you could. Mentors were usually down in the lobby, talking to sponsors and watching The Games with everyone else, but after your tributes died, there was no point.

So you went upstairs, and you both just lied there. It was one of those times where neither of you had to say anything. You were together, alive together, and that was enough.

Listening to Finnick’s heartbeat could calm you down in any situation. You must’ve been doing something to help him, too, because his heartbeat was steady. You stayed like that for a bit until he moved a bit, murmuring under his breath, “What?”

He sat up, making you sit up, too, while he grabbed the remote, turning the volume up. You glanced at it and the scene immediately caught your attention. You heard the last bits of what the announcer was saying, that a rule about two victors was being annulled. Your brows furrowed; you must not have seen the part where any such thing was declared.

You recognized the tributes who you quickly realized were the last people left standing. They were the kids from district 12, the Girl on Fire and the boy in love with her.

You scoffed. “Of course, they want the star-crossed lovers to battle to the death.” You were about to turn away, refusing to indulge in the Capitol’s bullshit, but Finnick grabbed onto your arm.

“Wait.”

You stopped, turning back. The girl, Katniss, had a bow and arrow in her hands. Peeta was a few steps away from her. They were both staring at each other, Katniss looking like she didn’t know what do, but Peeta looked like he already accepted that he was going to die.

You didn’t want to watch this, watch two people fall apart on television, but for some reason, this had captured Finnick’s attention.

One of us should go home, he said. One of us has to die; they have to have their victor. Katniss was already shaking her head.

No. She dropped her arrow to the ground, walking forward. They don’t.

You tilted your head, but you understood what was happening when she pulled a handful of berries from her pocket. “Holy shit.”

Peeta grabbed her hand, rejecting the idea immediately, but she whispered, Trust me. He must’ve really been in love with her, because he did. She poured some berries into the palm of his hand, making you lean closer.

“You don’t think they’re gonna…” you trailed off, puzzled. There were people that’d killed themselves in past games, but this had never happened. There was always a victor.

Peeta hesitated, but looked sure when he looked back into Katniss’ eyes. Together? he mumbled.

She repeated his words. Together. She looked up for a second, and then you suddenly recognized the look on her face. This was a bluff.

They counted down from three, and just as they were gonna bring the berries to their mouths, the announcer frantically cut in, Stop- stop! He cleared his throat. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the winners… of the 74th Annual Hunger Games.

Relief flooded into Katniss’ eyes as she embraced Peeta in a hug. Shock flowed through you, and Finnick’s expression was no different.

Once you had processed the information, you couldn’t help the grin that grew on your face, disbelief and pride filling you at the same time. “They just screwed the Capitol.”

You turned to see him smirking. “Hell yeah, they did.”

And this made your Hunger Games experience just a little bit better.

Neither of you were surprised that Seneca Crane was found dead days later. He made a grave mistake, letting two victors win. Snow wouldn’t have that, and you could guess why.

What Katniss and Peeta did was causing chatter, sparking hope. People in district 4 were more hush-hush about it, but outlying districts, like 11, had gone into revolts. The Capitol must’ve been stressed, and knowing that brought you some sick form of comfort.

Katniss and Peeta were spinning their actions, making them out to be this act of love, like they couldn’t bear to live without each other, but you and Finnick saw right through it. After all, if there was anyone who could spot a fake relationship, it was you two.

However, the two love-birds flew from your mind when you got home. You were brought back to your little world, living life alongside Finnick. The urge grew to ask him what you were, if you were still in a fake relationship just like Katniss and Peeta or if this was real, as real as you felt it was, but you didn’t wanna mess up the one good thing you had going.

The truth was, you don’t know how long you would’ve made it without him.

Finnick was your lifeline, and he had no idea.

The next time you were at the Capitol, you were in the Presidential Palace for the so called biggest party of the year. It was always hosted right before the Hunger Games, so being there gave you many things to be anxious about.

But, like always, you concealed it, smiling and shaking hands with the people you came across, even as you were disgusted. Some of these people, the very people who paid for your body at sixteen, were there with their families. You wondered how they could have children and still do what they did.

You were a child, too.

Normally, Finnick would be there to calm you down, but he snuck off somewhere without telling you.

You were wandering around, trying to find him when a head of brown hair streaked with red came into your view. “Hey, Princess.”

A sigh left your lips, both out of relief that you found someone you knew and discontent at the nickname. “Hey, Jo.” You would usually make conversation with her, but you were pretty distracted, glancing around behind her. “Have you seen Finnick anywhere? I’ve been looking for him for a while now.”

When you looked back to her, a look you couldn’t decipher flashed across her face, but it was gone in an instant. “No, can’t say I have.”

For some reason, you got a weird feeling from her. It was almost like she knew something that you didn’t.

“Hey, why don’t we go grab a bite while we wait for him?” She suggested, gesturing to the buffet. “I’m starving.”

You shook your head, dazed. “I’ll catch up with you- I’m just gonna go to the bathroom.”

She perked up. “I’ll go with you.”

You were quick to decline. “No, that’s fine; go eat. I’ll be back in a sec.” She was hesitant  for reasons you couldn’t fathom, but she eventually nodded, agreeing to meet you later.

You walked through the halls, passing the bathrooms and not even sparing them a glance. You didn’t really know why you lied about where you were going, but in that moment, it felt like instinct. You trusted Johanna, but you were catching the same weird vibe from countless other people. All you wanted was to find Finnick and have him tell you everything was alright.

You didn’t have to look long before you found him, outside along with many other partygoers. But he wasn’t alone. Standing next to him was a man you’d just recently seen on TV. You just couldn’t remember his name.

You made your way over to them. They cut themselves off as soon as they saw you, not letting you overhear a single detail of whatever they were talking about. You stifled the reappearance of that weird feeling that was starting to feel a lot like suspicion. “Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen.”

Finnick waved you off, “No, it’s fine, sweetheart.” He pulled you into his side, kissing your temple. “This is Plutarch Heavensbee.” A lightbulb went off in your head as you looked to the man.

He was Seneca Crane’s replacement.

What the hell was Finnick doing talking to him?

“It’s an honour and a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/L/N,” he greeted, holding his hand out. There was something about him that was throwing you off, not just your revelation of who he was, but you still shook his hand.

“Pleasure’s mine, Mr. Heavensbee,” you replied, smiling your umpteenth fake smile of the night. But you had an inkling that no one in the Capitol was as genuine as they seemed.

Plutarch didn’t try to stay and make small talk like the rest of the people you encountered at the Capitol, bidding you both farewell and wishing you a good night. Something told you his departure had something to do with your arrival.

Once he was out of earshot, you turned in Finnick’s arms. “Was that the new head Gamemaker?” He nodded, but didn’t offer any explanation. You furrowed your brows. “What were you talking about?” 

Finnick shrugged nonchalantly, but for some reason, he seemed tense. “He wanted to meet the youngest victor of The Games.”

You found that hard to believe, holding back a scoff. “Well, he didn’t seem too interested in meeting me.”

A smile arose on his face as he wrapped his arms back around your waist. “That is because you, darling, are not the youngest person to ever win.”

This time, you did scoff, but the tense atmosphere dissipated. “You’re a dick.”

“You love me.” Your heart nearly stopped, but you kept your composure. You did love him, more than he’d ever know.

You shook your head, acting unaffected. “C’mon, Johanna’s waiting for us by the buffet.” You tried walking away, but your faux façade of annoyance was broken by Finnick latching onto your hand and walking forward with you, chuckling.

And then the entire matter of everyone’s weird behaviour was pushed to the back of your mind.

Returning home from the Capitol was always peaceful, like a weight being lifted off your shoulders, but this time was unlike any of those other times. When you got home, the so called peace that the Capitol so delicately crafted was ripping at the seams.

The chatter from before, from when Katniss and Peeta defied the Capitol, was louder than ever. They had just gone on their victor’s tour, right before you left for the Presidential Palace, and they had apparently sparked a reaction in just about every district they visited, yours included.

You found out that district 4 had been in a revolt since Everdeen and Mellark came and gave their speech. The people were outraged. The news talked about seafood shortages due to bad weather, but the Capitol just didn’t want to let Panem know what was going on, that people were refusing work, that Peacekeepers were murdering innocent people left and right for the smallest of incidents.

When you were all caught up with what had happened, you were furious, too. You wanted to march out onto the streets and give the Capitol the finger, but Finnick pulled you back. 

“What are you gonna do, Y/N?” he questioned, not even giving you the time to answer. “You don’t even know.”

Your voice was vicious as you responded, a tone you’d never given him. You were angry, and you both knew you weren’t thinking clearly; you just didn’t care. “I don’t know right now, but I’m gonna do something, Finnick.” You tried pulling your arm away, but he was much stronger than you.

“I’m not gonna let you go out there and get yourself killed.” You could tell by his demeanour that he was angry, but not for the same reasons that you were.

You shook your head. “You of all people should understand where I’m coming from.”

His eyes went hard. “You must not know me well if you think I’d let my girlfriend kill herself.” That shut you up.

His girlfriend.

He called you his girlfriend.

You got over the shock and, suddenly, you were even more angry than before. While you could pretend all you wanted to that you lived in candy-land, the cruel reality was still there. Finnick didn’t love you. He was only playing with your emotions.

Tears built up in your eyes: sad tears, angry tears—they were everything tears. You felt everything. “I’m your girlfriend now?”

He scoffed, “Oh, come on, Y/N. You can’t be serious right now.”

“I am so serious right now.” 

At your deadpan, he finally let go of your arm, running a hand through his hair. A part of you felt bad that he was so stressed, but you were stressed, too. He looked like he was trying to figure out what to say when he looked back up at you. His voice was no longer harsh, but small. “Y/N, please.”

You swallowed. 

“I’m just asking you to trust me.” He grabbed onto your hands. “Please just trust me.” He was begging you.

“Trust you to do what?”

“I just need you to trust me, Y/N, please.” He held your hands tighter. “Trust me.”

Oh, it didn’t matter how angry you were, if your thoughts were set in stone. Finnick would still be able to mold you like clay. Every time.

“I trust you.”

There was something different about him, but you were too distracted to try and figure it out.

There were so many things going on.

You were with Annie when it happened. Oh, that must have been some cruel joke from the universe. You were walking through the town square, on your way to Victors’ Village with pastries from the bakery in your hands. You were slowed down by the all of the people congregating together, watching the screen.

President Snow was announcing the third Quarter Quell, and they were eating it up. You weren’t gonna do that, entertain his lunacy. You’d go the Capitol and play your role, but you weren’t gonna watch these broadcasts anymore. You weren’t gonna play along.

Finnick could explain it to you later so you’d be able to prep your tributes. The Quells were always made out to be the hallmark of The Games; they were always harder. You felt for whatever kids would have to go through them.

You felt a lot more once you realized who these tributes were gonna be.

You weren’t listening to what Snow was was saying, but his words cut through any sort of mental block you had. “On this, the third Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are… to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district.” 

Your stopped walking as if you’d hit a wall, the stuff in your hands falling the ground, but it was almost like you didn’t hear it. You stopped hearing anything, not Snow explaining the condition or everyone’s gasps. Your ears rang. Everything was muffled like you were underwater.

You were done. You were supposed to be done. You went through those Games, you won, and now you were supposed to be done.

He was gonna make you go through it all over again.

You were so shocked that you pinched yourself, like you were a child and this was some nightmare, and even though you didn’t wake up, even though you knew you were awake, you were still caught in a nightmare that you’d have to die to escape from.

Your senses came back to you and you spun around, pulling Annie into a tight hug the second you saw the tears streaming down her face. She muttered the same thing over and over into your shoulder.

“This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.”

She couldn’t go through this again. The Games broke her beyond repair. She couldn’t mentor because of it; she could barely ever attend any of the Capitol parties you and Finnick frequented. She would die in that arena, either mentally or physically.

You couldn’t let that happen.

Your song played on a loop in your mind, making the decision for you. You were reminded that, even though your dance may have changed, Finnick didn’t love you. He loved Annie, and he would be destroyed if she died.

You couldn’t let that happen.

You couldn’t let Mags go back into the arena, either. He needed her. These were the only people he cared about; you couldn’t let them go through this.

Then and there, you decided your fate.

You were gonna be the one to go back into the arena, and no one was gonna stop you.

When you and Annie had made it to your house, ignoring all of the looks of pity thrown your way, Finnick looked just as beaten down as you, but not surprised. You didn’t have time to analyze that.

He hugged Annie first, shooting you an apologetic look, but you didn’t understand what it was for. You knew what Annie meant to him.

You weren’t so deluded that you’d believe you came before her. Besides, she needed to be consoled more than you did. You were calm. Annie was lost right now, but you knew exactly where you were headed.

That night, once Annie left, your clothes came off, and you and Finnick had the softest sex you ever had. It was gentle, and you let yourself feel loved one last time. You let yourself be selfish and have this one thing, just one last time.

You knew that the odds of coming out of that arena were slim, so you kissed Finnick like you were gonna die the very next day. I just might, you thought. And then as you fell asleep in his arms, you pretended that everything was alright. You pretended that your dance wasn’t gonna end so soon, that you weren’t gonna sign your life away when you woke up, that Finnick really loved you, that he loved you just as much as you loved him. You pretended one last time.

The next day, you and all of the other victors walked to the Hall of Justice, escorted by a dozen Peacekeepers. There were so many male tributes. As terrible as it sounded, you were praying that it’d be one of them that was chosen, not Finnick. If he was, then you would throw away any chance you had of winning.

If he went in with you, then he’d be the one walking out.

Cassia Locke stood in the middle of the stage, in between the male and female victors. You found it funny, almost: you were victors, but now the Capitol was gonna rip that refuge away after they’d already taken everything from you.

Cassia was just another mutt in your eyes. She was district 4’s Capitol escort; she was meant to be an advisor, but she didn’t do that well, not for you or the other tributes you mentored. But you supposed you couldn’t be too surprised. Her job was to make spectacles, not survivors.

However, she almost looked human for a moment, glancing at the women sympathetically before she pulled out a folded paper from the bowl. You stood on edge; there were only three of you. Unbeknownst to you, Finnick also stood straighter in trepidation.

She cleared her throat, announcing, “The female tribute for the 75th Annual Hunger Games and third Quarter Quell is… Annie Cresta.”

Annie’s face fell, but you quickly stepped forward. “I volunteer as tribute.”

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Annie whispered, putting a hand on your shoulder, but you brushed her off and ignored her.

Cassia nodded. “Very well, then.” She moved back to the bowl. “Now for the males.”

You glanced over to see that Finnick was already looking at you, an unknown emotion written all over his face, though you realized what it was quickly. Betrayal.

You were confused why. If anything, he should’ve been relieved.

“The male tribute for the 75th Annual Hunger Games will be…” she unfolded the paper, “Finnick Odair.”

Your heart dropped. That wasn’t supposed to happen. 

The universe must’ve hated you.

Finnick’s mask was back on. Any trace of emotion on his face was erased and replaced with the cocky, charming façade that he’d perfected. He smirked as if he wasn’t just chosen for the most brutal “game” there ever was, like there was nothing to be worried about.

He was so good at pretending. Maybe even better than you.

You both walked toward the centre of the stage simultaneously, routinely. You’ve danced this dance before.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our tributes for the Hunger Games.”

Right after that, Peacekeepers came from the side, trying to grab at your arms, but you shook them off. “We know where to go,” you said. You don’t know if it was the your tone of voice or the look on your face, but they actually listened.

You were escorted into an inactive chamber, the same one you were brought to for your first Games. Memories flashed through your mind before you shook them away. You couldn’t get PTSD right before you went into this.

Finnick was stoic as he stared you, but before either of you could say anything, Mags and Annie came rushing into the room. Annie took you by surprise, immediately engulfing you tightly.

She was still crying, but manage to blubber out through her tears, “Why- why would you do that?”

You rubbed her back. “Annie-”

“Why would you do that for me? It was supposed to be me. Supposed to be me, supposed to be me.” She kept repeating herself over and over, shaking in your arms.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Finnick and Mags watching you. “It’s gonna be okay, Annie,” you told her, but you knew it was a lie. “I’m gonna be fine.” You weren’t.

As if she knew this, she only cried harder. You didn’t know what else to say, so you just kept rubbing her back, hoping that she’d calm down. Eventually, she stopped shaking, but tears kept flowing from her eyes like a waterfall. She tried to wipe them away, but they just kept coming.

She sniffled, going over to hug Finnick, then hugging you one last time before she left. “Take care of each other- please,” she asked, and you weren’t thinking of doing anything but.

You nodded, assuring her that you would do just that. Mags hugged you, saying the words she couldn’t express through her gaze. You could tell that neither of them wanted to leave, but they had to. 

Only one of you was gonna come back, and that was gonna be hard to come to terms with.

They left, and then it was just you and Finnick. The music kept playing, and playing, and playing, and you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. You didn’t want to hear this song ever again if it could be your last time listening.

If you could have it your way, you’d dance together until the end of time. But forever was never promised, not in the world you lived in.

The silence, however, felt like it lasted a forever in the moment, so you broke it. “Can you say something?” Finnick just kept staring at you in a way he had never looked at you before. The music got louder. Tears came to your eyes. “Please.”

Maybe he took pity on you, because he did say something. You just weren’t sure if it was any better than the silence. “Why would you do that?” His voice was cold.

You felt cold.

You swallowed. “Finn-”

“Why would you volunteer?” He stepped closer to you, so much venom seeping through his tone that you thought you were gonna be sick. “Annie was going to go-”

You cut him off, throwing your hands up. “You saw her, Finnick. She’s a mess.”

“She was going to be fine-”

“She can’t go through The Games again!” You shouted, losing it. Why was he berating you as if you didn’t just save the love of his life? “It would kill whatever part of her is left.”

“She would’ve been fine. You would’ve been fine-”

“God, why do you care about what happens to me? Annie’s gonna be okay—you’re gonna be able to come home to her and build the family you’ve always wanted-”

He snapped. “You’re my family!” You recoiled like he just hit you with his words. It was like you’d been doused in cold water. Finnick sighed, running a hand through his hair. There was a beat where neither of you said anything, letting his revelation soak in.

But you didn’t know what that meant.

When he spoke up again, his voice was quieter. He didn’t look like the Finnick that smirked up on that stage; he looked defeated, not triumphant. “You’re my family, Y/N. Don’t you get that?” He looked back up at you. “I could’ve protected Annie in that arena, and you would’ve been safe, here—not there with me.”

You shook your head. “There is no protecting someone in an arena- you and I know that best.” You let a tear fall, smiling sadly. “You’re gonna come home, Finnick-”

“Stop.”

“You’re gonna come home and you’re gonna live a long life with Annie-”

“Stop it.”

“You have people to take care of. I don’t.”

“Y/N, stop it.”

Another tear. “You deserve this-”

“Stop it.” Finnick grabbed onto your shoulders. You didn’t even know he got so close. “I’m not gonna let you die in there. Do you hear me? You’re not dying.”

“Only one of us is coming back, Finn. It’s gonna be you.”

You don’t know if your eyes were just really that blurry or if there were actually tears in his eyes, too. “No, you are coming home-”

“Finni-”

He grabbed you tighter. “We are both coming home.” The dam in your eyes broke, and all of the tears you were trying to hold came flooding down your cheeks.

Why was he saying these things? He knew it was impossible.

“We are both coming home, Y/N, I swear,” he promised, but these were promises he couldn’t keep. These were things he couldn’t control. Why was he lying to you- why was he lying to himself?

You wanted to say all these things, to scream, to tell him that it wasn’t true, that you were going to die. But then you remembered every other time you lied in bed together, every time you kissed and held each other. You’ve been lying to yourself all along, pretending you could have a future together when, deep down, you knew that wasn’t the case.

So you held everything in, pulling Finnick to you and hugging him with everything you had. You were gonna let him pretend, just this last time.

You were gonna dance together one last time.

You spent the entire train ride in each other’s arms, only getting up to eat and go to the bathroom before getting back in bed. You didn’t have mentors—you were the mentors. You’d been here before already, and that was surreal in and of itself.

You thought you already won. But nobody ever won, did they?

Those games killed everyone, victors included.

The press was insane, but just as you expected it. You were the Prince and Princess of Panem; they didn’t want to watch you die. Turns out, people in the Capitol did have hearts; clearly, they weren’t all too functional.

This visit, in more ways than one, was completely different from any other time you’d been in the city. Instead of the graceful show you normally put on, waving and smiling, you were much more mute. You were gonna die, anyway, so what was the point of continuing to be a puppet? 

Finnick was still his usual self, smirky and arrogant, but even his anger snuck through the cracks of his act. All of you were angry, all of the victors. You could tell just by the mere glances you’d gotten of them, by the news coverage. Nobody wanted to go into an arena and kill people, not even the Careers (who you’d admit were pretty crazy).

However, this was all still a show to the Capitol, with you as the unlucky cast. And the show had to go on.

You and Finnick were separated to be prepped by the “glam teams.” The first time around, you remember being scared, but now you were just bored.

You were sitting idly in the dressing room, waiting for your designer when a man walked in, making you raise a brow.

This was a designer, but not your designer.

“Wait, I know you.” You tilted your head as his face became more familiar to you. “You’re Cinna- you designed those outfits with the fire.”

Cinna nodded in a way that you perceived as both humble and prideful at the same time. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Princess.”

This elicited a bitter chuckle from you. “Please, call me Y/N.” You then stood up to shake his hand when your curiosity sparked. “Aren’t you Katniss’ designer?”

“Yes, but I’m also going to be designing your outfits, as well,” he replied. “The head Gamemaker requested it. You are the Princess, after all.”

The corners of your lips went up. Most people you met at the Capitol would beat around the bush, but this guy didn’t seem shy. It was refreshing. You teased, “Ah, and since I’m a princess, I get Panem’s best to dress me?” 

Cinna chuckled a bit under his breath, but didn’t confirm or deny your comment. He dived straight into his plans, explaining what he wanted to for you with a twinkle in his eye that you noticed most artists had when speaking about their work. “I want to stay true to the district 4 theme, but I want to make a statement.”

“Yeah, I had a feeling.”

He smiled. “We’re gonna show the Capitol that they can’t control you.”

And then your little smile turned into a grin.

Cinna did not disappoint. You were in a golden, long-sleeve, grid shirt with holes where the squares were supposed to be; your velvet skirt was a dark blueish-green, skin-tight; and atop your head was a golden crown, decorated with blue jewels.

Of course, it wasn’t a normal outfit, but you were gonna save the theatrics for the parade.

Finnick was around somewhere, likely causing trouble while you were walking around, looking for Johanna. However, you ended up running into someone else.

“Peeta,” you called, and he turned around. He immediately reminded you of Finnick, a mask of charm hiding him. Although Peeta had only been at this for a year, he already knew how to play the game, unlike Katniss who was rather unapproachable.

“Y/N,” he greeted. He scrambled for something to say for a few seconds. “I heard about how you volunteered for that girl. It was really brave.”

You hummed, almost sarcastically. “You don’t have to suck up to me—it’s not like I bite.”

He got red, making you stifle a laugh. “That’s, uh- that’s not what I meant-”

“It’s fine, I get it,” you waved it off. “It’s probably intimidating to be here around all of us, just a year after you won.” He didn’t say anything, just awkwardly smiled. “You know, you don’t have to be scared. You have a lot of power ‘round here; you just need to learn how to wield it.”

He gave you a confused look, so you elaborated, “There’s power in the masses, Peeta. The people here love you.” You paused. “Use that.”

A look of realization crossed his face, and so you decided that you said all you needed to say. He thanked you, but his mind looked to be elsewhere. You nodded, then walked off to find your carriage.

Sure, the Capitol could try and treat you all like pieces on a chess board, but if you got rid of the board altogether, then there would be no game to play. You spoke to Peeta to help him realize that. It didn’t matter if you were all meant to be on different sides; until you got into that arena, you were all one team, and you were gonna try your hardest to stop The Games before they began.

If that didn’t work, then you would just have to concede. One way or another, you would make sure that Finnick made it out of that arena alive. Peeta reminded you an awful lot of him, and while you would otherwise be rooting for him, you would choose Finnick if it came down to it.

You met Finnick at the chariot not long after leaving Peeta. He was shirtless, wearing a skirt similar to your top, rope around his wrists like bracelets. If you weren’t about to go into this stupid parade, you would’ve probably been making out already, but you were far too worried to think about that.

You had Cinna to thank for calming your nerves, giving you something to look forward to. Once the parade had started and you were coming through, you pressed the button of the device he had given you and then your top went up in flames, disintegrating until you were just in a black bralette, revealing the swirls of blue they painted on your arms, resembling waves. The rope around Finnick’s wrists caught fire, too, burning up until there was nothing there.

The crowd cheered, chanting your names. The faintest of smirks grew on your lips, but you really had to stifle your enjoyment when you saw Snow staring your carriage down.

What you did symbolized freeing yourself of the shackles of the Capitol, of these stupid Games. They could try, but they wouldn’t control you. 

You would’ve usually felt some sort of fear- hell, you were never so defiant just in fear of what they would do to you. But what more could they do to you? They were already going to kill you. You didn’t care anymore.

After the parade, you ran into Johanna who gave you a good laugh as she told you how she stripped in the elevator. You would’ve paid good money to see it, that was for sure. You also talked to a few other victors on your way back to your suite.

You’d been friends with many of these people for years and now the Capitol was just gonna try and pit you against each other. None of you were looking forward to that—you were friends. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t make any allies.

Alliances didn’t last forever in the arena, but they lasted long enough. Considering your status, almost everyone wanted you and your “boyfriend” as allies; they certainly didn’t want you as enemies.

The next day was spent at the training centre, a brand new one made specially for the Quarter Quell. The thought made you roll your eyes. The Capitol would spend their money on things like this and yet there were still kids out there starving. What kind of world was that? One that you were okay with leaving, so long as Finnick would remain in it.

On your way in, you passed Cashmere and Gloss throwing knives at holograms. They were good, you noted, but not better at it than you. Johanna was off practicing by herself—though you were sure that she was doing it more so to release her pent-up aggression. Wiress and Beetee, Nuts and Volts as Jo called them, were by themselves, much less violent than everyone else here and much more strategic. Finnick was tying knots, looking more bored than anything. And you… you weren’t doing anything.

You leaned back on a wall, watching the other tributes instead of joining them. You didn’t care about the rankings or making yourself look dangerous. You didn’t have anything to prove; you did that already, and you really didn’t need to “practice,” either.

You’ve danced this dance before.

However, not everyone was so aware of just how well you danced last time.

“Not practicing?” You turned your head, seeing the newest victor walking up to you, donning her famous hairstyle. The corners of your lips quirked up in amusement. 

She must have been told to make friends. You couldn’t imagine it was working out so well if she was coming to you.

“Don’t need to, Everdeen,” you replied, shrugging. “I don’t need the spotlight; got enough of that.”

She lightly snorted. “Yeah, I know what that’s like.” And you didn’t doubt that. Katniss had definitely captured the attention of Panem with her actions, and she certainly acquired the attention of the Capitol. Snow couldn’t have been her biggest fan.

In another life, you could picture you and her being friends, but you knew it wasn’t gonna happen in this one.

“You’re lucky, you know,” you said. You knew she didn’t see that way, and maybe it was a little bitter of you to say that, but it was true. At least she hadn’t been under the spotlight long enough for it to burn her like it’d burned you. 

She scoffed, “How so?” The girl had restraint, you’d give her that. She clearly wanted to say a lot more than that, but she was smart. She knew better.

You shrugged again. “You just are.” And you left it there. If she wanted all the dirty details about you, she could try her luck with one of the other victors, but you doubted she sensed the real meaning of your words. She hadn’t been dancing long enough to even hear the song yet.

A dramatic sigh then escaped your lips. “Ah, though I suppose even your luck can only run so far, Girl on Fire. So sorry about your wedding.” The sarcasm in your voice was toned down just enough that it wasn’t so evident but evident enough to make your point.

She gave you a tense smile, although you weren’t sure if any of Katniss’ smiles ever weren’t tense. “Thanks,” she responded with zero sincerity in her tone. “I’m sorry you and Finnick never had one, either. Would’ve been a real royal occasion.”

You hummed, smiling your royal smile back at her. The Kat has claws, you thought. But you didn’t really feel like standing here and trading subliminals with her all day; you’d have enough of that with everyone else, anyway.

You left it at that, going to walk away before pausing as if you’d forgotten something. “Tell Haymitch I said hi.” You gave her a once over. “He’s done a good job.” And then you walked away.

Finnick’s voice rang through your head: May the odds be ever in your favour, darling. You almost felt like recycling that line and repeating it to Katniss, but you had already messed with her enough. 

Your demeanour was in stark contrast of how you normally behaved. You may have been more agreeable or kind at home, sweet on cameras, but in this territory, you had an entirely different reputation. Sharp, cunning, unpredictable—ruthless. That’s the way it needed to be if you wanted to survive, or at least survive long enough to do what you needed to do.

So, you supposed that you had a mask, too.

You all did.

When you got back to your suite later in the evening, Finnick informed you of Katniss’ display with her bow and arrow, how she had renowned victors quaking in their boots, but people were even more scared of you, and you hadn’t even done anything at training.  

You basically had the entire pool of tributes to choose from for an alliance. You were choosing Johanna, of course, and Finnick already had his mind made up on his pick.

Making his way over to you, he tossed you something that you swiftly caught before sitting down on the armchair across from the sofa you were sitting on. You looked down, opening your hand to see a golden pendant, a medallion with a rose in the middle.

You raised a brow. This wasn’t a present. “A rose?”

“They’re a Capitol favourite.” Precisely why you hated them.

“Alright, and why are you giving it to me?”

Finnick brought his wrist up, showing you a golden bracelet made of vines while wiggling his fingers. “They’re gifts,” he told you, “from Effie Trinket and Haymitch Abernathy.”

You were familiar with both people. Effie Trinket was crazy, but that wasn’t the dominant thought on your mind. “Gifts for what?”

He answered, “They’ve brokered an alliance with us on behalf of Katniss and Peeta.” At that, you groaned, but Finnick readily cut you off. “This will be good for us, Y/N.”

“They’re brand new to this,” you countered. Sure, you liked the spark that the Girl on Fire had, and Peeta was quite the catch, but they only won a year ago. The Careers would be a better pick, even though you didn’t exactly like them, either.

“Yes, but they’re good; you’ve seen them. And the Capitol’s gonna love it, the two pairs of lovers together. C’mon, you know all this.” You did. You knew that this was one of the best avenues to take, but something in you was against it.

Maybe it was just that Peeta reminded you of the man you were in love with, and Katniss reminded you of yourself. But right now, you had to remind yourself to think with your head, not your heart. You needed to disregard your feelings and do whatever it took to win this.

To you, winning didn’t mean surviving this. Winning meant that Finnick did.

So, with a sigh, you surrendered, agreeing to this little deal. “So, these accessories are, what? Bargaining chips?”

He smirked. “No, they’re symbols. Katniss and Peeta have theirs, too.”

You chuckled, shaking your head and mocking, “So we’re in a little golden alliance, then?”

“It appears so, darling.”

After a little more conversation, Finnick and you headed off to bed, even though neither of you could really sleep. You held each other, though, and so the insomnia was bearable. He told you to stow the necklace away, that you were saving the objects for The Games. Apparently, Katniss and Peeta still needed a little persuasion for this, especially the former.

She was smart not to trust you, but she was equally as naive for the same reason. If you wanted to, you could be judgemental all day, but you didn’t have the time for it, so your mind didn’t linger on the subject.

When you were waiting to be assessed the next day with the rest of the tributes, your mind didn’t really linger on anything. You felt numb: not pleased, not sad, just numb. If you could pin-point an emotion, it had to be anger, but that feeling hadn’t left you since your first Games.

Finnick, on the other hand, looked no different, maybe even a little amused by the tension in the room, too amused for somebody who had to go back to the arena. But Finnick was always one to look a challenge into the eye and, instead of looking away, give it a wink. That was his persona while you were here, in the Capitol, so you’d let him indulge in it if that’s what made him feel better.

You’d do anything for him, even if he didn’t love you back.

He went into the room first. You didn’t know exactly what he was gonna do, but you knew that you were all basically doing the same thing. Plutarch Heavensbee may have been new, but even he knew who you all were. You’ve all shown your skills already, been here already, danced this dance already.

The song was getting old.

You were all giving your own personal fuck you to the Capitol.

When Finnick walked out, he flashed you a smirk that almost made you laugh. You stifled a smile as you walked into the room yourself, but it was quickly wiped off your face as memories played in your head like a movie.

You remembered the first time you did this, coming in and saying your name, scared out of your mind but ready to win, ready to impress the sponsors.

Now, you didn’t have to say your name. You caught their attention as soon as you walked in. You were the Princess. You needed no introduction.

It was funny, though, how that imaginary crown couldn’t save you from this.

The thought of your inevitable death was what fuelled you. You were known for your abilities with a sword, but that wasn’t what you reached for. You reached for the jug of gasoline and a lighter, immediately opening it and pouring in a circle in the middle of the room before stepping into it.

Then you looked right up at all of them and their confused faces, and threw the open lighter to the liquid in front of you, igniting a circle of fire around you.

You stared right at the head Gamemaker as you did it, expressionless. His expression told you that he got the message, or at least your hostility.

You would burn this place to the ground if you had to, even if you got burned while doing it. 

When the flames got smaller, you turned and stepped over them, walking out of the room without another glance or word to the Capitol mutts. As far as you were concerned, they weren’t worth your time—you were running out of that, anyways.

Once the assessments were over, all any of you had time to do was get ready for the show. Caesar wasn’t exactly a face you wanted to see right now. Maybe he saw his enthusiasm as a way of “calming the tributes down,” but it was really just his lack of empathy. You didn’t need him cheering and practically gossiping about your death before it happened. 

As much as the people in the Capitol liked to think of these Games as games, they weren’t. They were your lives. But you really could spend days obsessing over it, days that you didn’t have.

It was time to dance, and there was nothing you did better.

You were backstage, standing with Finnick and Johanna, waiting your turns. Cinna had made you very pretty. He was good at what he did.

You were wearing a dark blue dress with wide straps tied into blue bows at your shoulders and a sweetheart neckline. The bottom half was pretty fitted, but it was covered by a sparkly, golden, A-line, hoop petticoat made of the same material as your top from the parade, gridded with holes like before. And of course, your crown sat atop your head—Cinna insisted.

He really wanted to nail the whole Princess thing, milk it for all it was worth. And you let him, because his designs were great. Part of you wished you could’ve gotten more into fashion; now you’d never get the chance to.

You couldn’t blame Katniss for being so stand-offish. You’d be intimidated, too, if you were new to the club, watching from the sidelines. You, Finnick, and Johanna didn’t really seem all too approachable right now, either, even the ever so charming Odair. They were exchanging jokes and laughing at the interviews, mocking them, while you were rather stoic, observing the interviews watchfully.

Cashmere and Gloss went first, of course. They did theirs together since they were brother and sister. It was odd to you, how two siblings managed to get reaped together out of all the victors district 1 had, but you were paying more attention to the act they were putting on. 

Casmere was sobbing. She’s a much better killer than she is an actor, you thought, but the people in the audience clearly bought it. You’d give her credit, though; you were all trying your best to get this thing cancelled, even if that was highly unlikely.

Next came the two crazy Careers who made Gloss’ acting look world class. Then Beetee went on stage, using logic as a tactic rather than emotion. Smart, but logic wouldn’t sway President Snow’s wishes. The Capitol sent innocent kids off to die every year in a televised event to pay for something that happened years before any of them were born—logic was obviously not their strong suit.

Wiress went next, and that’s basically when you tuned out. She was pretty out of it, not really saying much. Finnick was going after her. That’s what occupied your thoughts.

“Hey, you alright?” Your were snapped out of your daze by the very man you were thinking about, as if he was reading your mind. Those blue eyes that you loved so much stared down at you, concern swimming through them.

Those ocean eyes. You could drown in them.

You cleared your throat, straightening your shoulders. “Yeah, I’m good.” He continued to stare down at you like he was completely unconvinced, but before he could say anything, they were calling his name.

He cursed under his breath then placed a soft kiss on your temple before having to walk out on stage, that famous smirk on his face. He was so good at that, at going from hard to soft so easily, cursing to kissing you.

He was good. He was real good, and he was a much better actor than any other tribute here. He was so good that he could make even you believe his performance.

You watched them from the TV backstage. “Finnick,” Caesar started. “As I recall, the last time we spoke, it was with your other half, who is here today.” The crowd cheered.

Finn nodded, smiling tensely, which you were sure he did on purpose. “That’s right.”

“You and the Princess have so graciously shared your love with us, and we have fallen in love with you both, perhaps as much as you love each other.” You and Johanna simultaneously rolled your eyes. Finnick, though, smiled to the cheering audience, mouthing thank you’s that no doubt made them swoon. “None of us know how to deal with the fact that you are both going into The Games- I certainly haven’t come to terms with it. Tell us, how are you dealing with this?”

You scoffed. If there was something the people of the Capitol liked to do, it was pretending that your tragedy was their own. They didn’t know even half of your pain, any of yours. 

Caesar practically shoved the microphone in Finnick’s face. He looked down, like he was thinking, but you knew he probably had this bit down pat already. “If I’m being honest, neither Y/N nor I have come to terms with it, either.” He now looked right to the camera. “What I do know is that I will do whatever it takes to protect the woman I love.” The crowd cooed as you looked straight at the TV, as if Finnick was staring into your eyes. “And if I… if I die in that arena, then my last thought will be of her lips… and how lucky I was to have met her and have had the opportunity to give her my heart.”

The crowd went wild and Caesar said something in response, but you couldn’t hear it. You were stuck staring into Finnick’s eyes, the eyes you fell in love with. Oh, he was so good. He could dance the dance so much better than you. Because everything he said, he almost made you believe that he meant it.

You blinked the tears in your eyes away when Johanna shook you, telling you they were about to announce your name. You put the mask back on, and it was your love for Finnick that made you do it. You were doing this for him.

An exhale left your lips as you waited for your cue. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, as our Prince exits, I have the honour of welcoming his counterpart to the stage. The winner of the 67th Hunger Games. The Princess of Panem. Y/N Y/L/N!”

The doors you stood behind opened and you walked onto the stage, a stellar smile on your face as you waved to the roaring crowd. You just had to play the role, and everything would be fine.

When the cheers died down, Caesar gave you a sympathetic look, or at least a look that he thought was sympathetic. “Now, Y/N, it is lovely to see you. You look stunning.”

“Thank you, Caesar. It’s always wonderful to see you. I just wish it was under different circumstances.” You glanced to the crowd, catching their pity. For once, that was the exact emotion you wished to inspire.

“Yes, I think I speak for us all when I say that this is not easy.” You tightly smiled, even though you really just wanted to flip him off. “We just spoke to Finnick, he has been quite expressive these past few days in the Capitol, but you, Y/N, you have not been as revealing. Please, we’d like to know what’s been on your mind.”

If Caesar really heard what was on your mind, then he’d be appalled. That wasn’t your goal, even though you’d greatly enjoy that. Instead, you had a different play.

The audience was very quiet in anticipation of your response. You sighed, keeping the tired smile. “I, um… I’ve had a lot on my mind, really. Finnick and I, we thought we had more time, time to get married and even have kids, but now it’s like that time has just been… stolen from us.” Collective awes resounded throughout the crowd as Caesar brought his other hand to his chest, like your words moved him. “It’s- it’s just not fair, simple as that. But I love him, and that love will survive, even if I don’t.”

The audience let their dismay be known while Caesar shook his head. “Oh, my dear, I have seen your love- we all have, and I know that it will never die.” You nodded in agreement, listening to everyone else agree with you.

The acting was easier than you thought it’d be. Maybe that was because it wasn’t all acting, not for you. You knew your role, and you knew it well, but your love for Finnick was not something you had to fake. It was perhaps one of the only real things you had left.

“Now, we are all in for an emotional night, so I’d just like to lighten the mood a little- is that alright?” You nodded again, though you wondered how he would’ve reacted if you didn’t. “Okay, now we all saw your display at the parade- isn’t that right, everyone?” He paused, letting them applaud. “Yes, it was magnificent. Would I be right in assuming that you have something similar planned tonight?”

“Oh, you’d be correct,” you responded, flashing a grin at the whooping crowd.

“Please, please.” He stepped back. “Go right ahead.”

You glanced at Cinna sitting front row before pressing the button of the device he gave you. The golden petticoat then went up in flames, seemingly “ejecting” the skirt of your dress, sending it from above your knees to your ankles as it went from skin-tight to flowy. The very bottom faded into a teal colour, like the sea.

The crowd’s cheers got louder than you thought possible. Caesar wowed, then raised his voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Princess of Panem!” You gave the crowd one last wave before making your way up the stairs to stand with the rest of the victors.

You were standing next to Finnick by the time the next tribute was called out and the attention was on them. To your surprise, he grabbed your hand, holding it tightly. But what really surprised you was the slight tremble you felt.

You looked up at him to see him already staring down at you. His mask fell a little, and instead of the at-ease Finnick you just saw, you were looking at a much more serious, stern version. You were confused by what could’ve brought this on, but then he leant down slightly, whispering in your ear, “I told you. I’m not letting you die.” When he pulled away, he didn’t look any less serious.

Oh, what a great liar he could be. There he was, making you believe in things that couldn’t possibly be true. You were going to die. You knew that, and you’d accepted it already. But Finnick hadn’t accepted it at all. He looked like he was believing his own lie.

You don’t know why this had shaken him so badly. Maybe he felt obligated to you, maybe he felt bad for you, but whatever it was, you weren’t gonna make it worse.

You could be a good actor, too.

For him.

You nodded, whispering back, “I know.” This looked to have calmed him down a little. He kissed the side of your head, and then the mask was back up. He kept his tight hold on your hand, and you let him.

You never know when it’d be the last time you held hands, and so you were gonna enjoy this while it lasted.

Even though this was an “emotional night,” as Caesar had dubbed it, you still got satisfaction out of everything the victors were pulling. When Johanna came on stage, she had a totally different approach than all of your sad acts and Beetee’s logic: she said what you all really wanted to say, giving the Capitol a loud fuck you.

You and Finnick had to stop yourselves from laughing amidst your shock. Caesar definitely wasn’t expecting that. You knew Snow definitely wasn’t expecting that, either. You hoped he was watching this right now, and you hoped that all of Panem could feel your outrage.

But if you were surprised by anything, it was the so called star-crossed lovers from district 12. Katniss’ wedding dress was a nice touch; she could’ve convinced even you that they were in love, if you didn’t know any better.

You weren’t the only one with a message to send to the Capitol with your attire. She spun around and her white dress was engulfed in flames, transforming into a midnight blue dress similar to yours. And when she lifted her arms, wings were revealed, and the smile on your lips widened.

“It’s a bird,” Caesar stammered in awe. “It’s like, a- it’s got feathers- it’s a bird- like a-”

You murmured at the same time as Katniss spoke up, “Like a Mockingjay.” You looked up to Finnick, seeing him already smirking. Everdeen was a lot ballsier than you thought.

“Your stylist certainly has outdone himself this time, hasn’t he? Bestowing not one, but two just astonishing looks upon us! What theatricality.” The attention was drawn to your designer. “Cinna! Take a bow.”

You were growing to like this man more and more, knowing that the Capitol must have hated him.

When the cheers died down and Katniss came and joined you all, the event was almost over with just Peeta left. You remembered the advice you gave him; you had high hopes for him, and he did not disappoint. 

He claimed he and Katniss had a secret wedding, reeled them all in, and then he added the cherry on top. “You know, Katniss and I, we’ve been luckier than most. And I wouldn’t have any regrets at all…” he paused, choking up, “i-if, if it weren’t… if…”

“If it weren’t for what? What, Peeta?”

“If it weren’t for the baby.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

The audience clamoured. You slapped a hand over your mouth to hide the upturn of your lips, feigning horror. Finnick was in the same boat, stifling a laugh.

Golden boy was smarter than he got credit for.

People in the audience stood up, shouting while Caesar tried to calm them down. They were calling for The Games to be stopped, exactly what you’d been trying to achieve all night. Caesar whispered something to Peeta away from the microphone, and he walked up the stairs to the rest of you, hugging his apparent wife.

Then suddenly, you were nudged by the person next to you, looking down to see their hand outstretched. You quickly realized what was going on and grabbed it. And then amidst all the fury, you brought your hands up together. Yes, they wanted you to kill each other, but you were all united in the same fight first.

It became obvious that Caesar couldn’t contain the crowd’s indignation any longer, so the anthem played, increasing in volume to try and drown them out, but your actions were still so much louder than words. 

That’s when the lights cut out.

But it would be a lot harder for the Capitol to snuff out the spark you all lit.

While you all did your best, your efforts appeared to be futile. Snow wasn’t against killing children, so you supposed that you all should’ve known better than to think that he’d cancel The Games for Everdeen’s baby.

However, it wasn’t completely useless. You had the public’s support. Sponsors wouldn’t be hard to get, so at least that was something. But all in all, The Games were still happening. One winner. Twenty-three of you would be dead, and you were going to be one of them.

Your last Games, you were relentless, selling your soul to stay alive. And you were gonna do it all over again, but this time, your objective wasn’t staying alive at all. It was making sure Finnick could make it home to Annie. 

Lying there in Finnick’s arms that night for what could possibly be the last time, you realized that you would die without ever having been loved by someone. You were with Finnick, and you loved him, but he didn’t love you back.

These last few days, you had been consumed by fire, knowing that you would burn everything down if it meant your lover would be safe, but it was like it was just hitting you that you’d been warming yourself up with a flame that wasn’t ever really yours.

You knew without a doubt that Finnick Odair was your soulmate.

But you weren’t his.

Tears pooled into your eyes at the thought, and so you quickly buried your head into his chest before a panic attack could came on. You calmed down to the sound of his heartbeat, the heartbeat that you personally would make sure didn’t stop until he was old and his hair was grey.

The next day was a blur between the hovercraft, having the trackers injected into you, and then being separated from Finnick. The only thing you really could remember was how he kissed your cheek before he left.

And then you were in the tube, rising up into the arena. You couldn’t get a good look at it. Every time you blinked, your Games flashed before your eyes. Sun, cold, dirt, blood, screaming, murder.

You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as the announcer counted down. Pull yourself together, Y/N, you thought.

And then The Games begun.

Taglist: @honestlycasualarcade

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

The Stunt ^**

This one is based off of the following request where Harry and Y/N are in a PR relationship and he realizes he likes her until it's all over.

A shout out to whoever created that AI pic, it was a repost from TikTok so I'm not sure who actually made it!

Warnings: PR relationship, mentions of PR drama from the past/present, heartbreak & failed relationships, verbal arguments, jealousy, a quick non-consensual kiss, alcohol consumption, fingering, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex

WC: 19.6K

It seemed really stupid to you, a PR relationship with your co-star for a film? Sure, this was your debut into acting, but you had confidence in your ability to perform well and were certain that the film would do great, it was a lovely story! You didn’t need additional PR help to make the film successful. You loved the script, it was a nice, yet realistic friends-to-lovers story. It had range, happiness, sadness, comedy, intimacy…you wouldn’t have chosen a stupid script for your first attempt at the silver screen! So the fact that your agent had written this into the contract with whoever your co-star was going to be, it felt a little insulting to you. 

“It’s offensive! I don’t want to fake date anyone, Fred!” You whined into the phone, “Everyone’s going to see it coming from a mile off…what if they cast someone I hate? What’s gonna happen then?” You asked and he spoke calmly, trying to appease you.

“Think of it as more acting practice! You have to act like you’re into the person when in public.”

“No one is going to agree to that.”

“Sweetheart, everyone will agree to it. It’s a classic PR move! They’re just gonna be kicking themselves for not thinking of it first! It basically guarantees film success for these rom-com type of things.” He said and you sighed and nearly hung up out of frustration. You wished that he had at least asked your permission before including this in the contract.

A few weeks later you were called in by the production and directing team for a few chemistry tests with the two actors that they were split between. They didn’t want to tell you who they were looking at for casting as to prevent any bias on your part during the chemistry read. They wanted to see it for themselves who you vibed with the most. Fred had told you to stop trying to figure it out because both picks were fairly new to the acting world. And when the day came, you were sick to your stomach. You hardly ate anything since the night before because of it. 

When you were introduced to the first guy you did recognize him a bit but you couldn’t really place him. He shared that he had done a lot of supporting work and this would be his first time in a lead role if he got it. He was trying so hard though, trying to make it look like you guys were vibing well. Your interactions felt really inauthentic. The way he would knock his head back and laugh in an exaggerated manner whenever you said something slightly humorous, the way he would lean in closer to speak to you, and touch your arm or shoulder even when you crossed them over your body to indicate that you were uncomfortable. Then when you guys did a couple of test scenes, one of them being the lead up to one of the more intense dialogues between the characters, he came on really strong and theatrically and it was cringey; even you knew that he wasn’t it as they thanked him for his time and off he went.

“We’re gonna break for a few minutes. Meet back in here in 10!”  Someone announced and you took full advantage to go make yourself a tea while they reset the makeshift “set”. Fred knew better than to talk to you right now, you were still quite annoyed at him for putting you in the PR dating situation. So when you felt someone come up beside you, you didn’t say anything, he’d get the hint.

“Ummm, pardon?” You heard an unfamiliar voice and you did a double take over your shoulder when you realized that the person who was looming behind you patiently was Harry Styles, the glasses he had on threw you off a bit.

“Oh god, sorry! I’m taking up the whole counter aren’t I?” You apologized as you grabbed your phone and dropped it in your purse and grabbed that from the top of the counter to make space for him and he smiled at you.

“That’s alright.” He assured you, “I just wanted to introduce myself before we all have to head back in.” He explained and you nodded. You quickly set down your tea packet and extended your hand to his and you shook it firmly and briefly. “I’m Harry.” He introduced himself.

“Y/N.” You smiled warmly.

“I know. Umm, I really liked your EP.” He said to you and your eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh wow, thank you so much! I like your glasses.” You said stupidly and he laughed as he glanced down at the ground between you and you mentally scolded yourself, “ Y-your albums too!” You added in, “I genuinely love all of your albums.” You giggled, trying to mask the star stuck feeling and embarrassment from your little blunder. “The last one, it was phenomenal! I put so many friends onto it.” You shared and he smiled timidly as he glanced away for a moment again before looking back at you.

“Thank you, that’s very generous of you.” He thanked you modestly, as if he hadn’t won an album of the year Grammy for it.

“It really was the least I could do. Great work.” You assured and he chuckled. You knew that one of his best friends was producing this film and you’d heard rumors that he might be writing on the soundtrack, so while you were shocked that he was here for this chemistry/screen test you didn’t think it too odd. Maybe it was going to help him get the vibes between you and whoever else they cast opposite you so that he could start working on the music. “So are you going to be writing some pieces for the soundtrack?” You asked and he nodded.

“Yeah, I thought the script was so genuine and I don’t know, I’m quite partial to hyperrealistic stories like this. The ones that show the challenges as well as the good things.” He said and you nodded.

“Oh my god, same. I know that films should sometimes be an escape, a reprieve if you will, from reality and just be optimistic and romanticize the good but I really love it when it feels like I’m looking in the mirror, you know? Or when it helps me relate to others more. I just love the humanity so much.” You explained and he nodded along. 

“Yeah, definitely.” He agreed. “What do you love most about this story?”

“Just the hope of it all…” you sighed happily, “I mean, who isn’t a sucker for a good friends-to-lovers trope? That whole “it’s been you all along” moment has happened to so many of us, I think. Like it’s the ideal scenario for falling in love, no? When you discover that your love for someone is so much bigger than you thought it was. But what I loved most is the way Cara learns to love herself and knows when to choose herself. It’s shows so much strength and integrity to herself. But yeah, I mean the love story between the two characters is also really great, so…normal.” You hummed. 

“Yeah, it’s so pure, isn’t it? I love how it builds so realistically, like you know all the good bits but also all the bad bits of a person and still love them and they you just as you are.”

“Exactly.” You hummed and he smiled.

“And how’d the last guy do with that?” He asked you, “You can be honest, I won’t tell.” He assured you with a little grin.

“Honestly, a little too forced for my liking. Like fake laughing and inside jokes kind of thing, it was a bit cringey. And well, the acting was far too theatrical for film in my opinion. He very clearly comes from a theater background, it was like really over the top.” You explained to him and he hummed.

“Hmmm…Well, I hope I do better than that.” He said and you froze.

“Wait. You’re the other choice?” You asked him and he nodded, “Oh…”

“I didn’t come and say hi just for fun. It was strictly business.” He joked with a playful grin and you shook your head in disbelief.

“And here I thought you were just here out of the kindness of your heart. To like pick up on the vibes for inspiration for the music.” You chuckled, feeling even more nervous now. “I was basically told that this was amateur hour by my agent.”

“Well, between the two of us, I’m quite the amateur when it comes to acting.” He said and you laughed a little in disbelief.

“Are you fucking kidding me? This is my first acting gig since…my high school play where I was dragged into playing Rizzo because the original cast member dropped out the week before because she hated how she looked in the wig!” You exclaimed, “Please forget the modesty. You’ve been in a Nolan film!” You said to him and he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Yeah, and all I did was swim around in the freezing cold ocean trying not to drown in that heavy ass uniform. The panic I portrayed was very real! There was no acting talent required. I was genuinely fighting for my life on that set.” He joked and you laughed and shook your head. 

“Well, I think you’ll get the part. We’re genuinely laughing, right? Or are you acting so well that I can’t tell whether it’s genuine or not?” You asked and he raised his eyebrows smugly.

“Definitely acting, even wore my glasses since the character does int eh script.” He said  jokingly and you giggled.

“Well, they suit you.” You complimented and he smiled bashfully.

“Thanks.” He responded, “But ummm, we are genuinely laughing…I think we’ll do good in there.” He said with a little more confidence.

“I think so too.” You hummed.

“Here’s to hoping. Well, I’m gonna head back in now, but I’ll see you in there, okay? Wish me luck!” He smiled warmly and you smiled and nodded as you watched him head back into the reading room.

************

It almost goes without saying that Harry was cast as the other lead opposite you. You guys did get along well and you also read well together, the screen test was great too. It was evident how personal these roles felt to each of you. So after a few days you were sitting before each other with your teams present to work out the terms of this PR relationship you’d have. It was all pretty basic; some of the parameters set were that this was business so no canoodling outside of the contractually obligated appearances, there were an agreed upon number of appearances you’d have to do during and post production. There were strict boundaries on what PDA was okay and what wasn’t, it was all very straight forward. So with both parties having most of their conditions met, you guys signed the contract.

…. ONE MONTH LATER ….

Now, you guys were a quarter of the way through filming and being the delusional hopeless romantic you were, you’d started developing real feelings for Harry. He was just so sweet and fun and thoughtful. For example, your birthday had fallen during production and he bought you flowers and a cake and had everyone sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you. Or when you had a scheduled appearance but were feeling ill from your period cramps, instead of making you sit through dinner at a restaurant, he drove you to the nearest pharmacy and walked around with you to buy you tampons and snacks. You loved it and everyone else did too. Or just little thoughtful things he’d do for the staff after a long day, he was just a complete sweetheart and it was getting harder and harder for you to just ignore it and not take his kindness all that personally.

Harry wasn’t really one to talk your ear off, he loved conversation, but mostly the listening bit. He liked to learn and hear other people’s thoughts and opinions. Like a sponge, he absorbed all the information and stowed it away for a later time. You could tell by the way he looked at you that he was listening. Like now…

“-it was just really stupid.” You sighed in slight irritation, “Like you just don’t follow someone to their car in a parking garage at night to ask for their picture!” You ranted and he nodded.

“You’re absolutely right. That’s scary, when someone follows you all the way to your car…”

“It was! And it was one of those things where like, if I started to run I knew they would start running after me so I tried to stay calm but in the end I just freaked out a little bit.” You explained, “Fuck, now they’re going to write shit about me being rude online.” You sighed as you guys drove out to the wine bar you were going to be spending some time at this evening.

“Look, you know you did nothing wrong and you’ve never lost it on someone before. If they do post that video and see an empty car park no one is going to think you were being rude. You can’t chase down a woman at night in a parking structure.” He said and you sighed.

“You’re right…” you agreed after you calmed down a bit. “H-how do you do it?”

“Chase women down?” He asked with a playful smile and you rolled your eyes and giggled at his little joke.

“Seriously though. Like deal with the obsessed people and the stalkers that just follow you around from a distance.”

“It is scary for me too. I mean, it sucks to say you get used to it, but you will.” He said and you nodded, “Like I don’t really go out alone in the evenings any more, try to do everything in the day time, with friends if possible. And like at night I’ll drive if I really need to go out, but like I’ve caught people trying to sneak in behind my car at the gate at my home in London. Or just like wait out there for me to come and go. I hate having security there all the time, but for a time I did have someone around patrolling a bit, it did help. Gave me some peace of mind, you know?”

“Yeah…well sorry if I…dampened the mood, I’m just still a little shaken up.” You explained.

“No, I get it.” He assured you with a smile, “Well the wine bar we’re going to is very low-key, so I don’t think anyone will bug us until we walk out to leave. Unless you’re in the mood for something else?” He asked you and you shook your head.

“The wine bar sounds really good right now.” You said to him and he smiled.

Your evening with Harry had been really fun. Not that you guys never had fun, but he was being extra sweet and attentive considering what had happened to you the night before. There were an assortment of board games available to play or you could choose to color and talk, but seeing as you weren’t too keen on any of the games you pulled out your trusty deck of cards from the depths of your purse. He found it extremely amusing that you just had that in your purse but went easy on the teasing. 

You rotated playing a few games, you taught him how to play 21 and Speed and it was getting so competitive. Obviously, you were at an advantage considering you knew how to play the games already. He did alright at 21, but when you started to play speed your expertise shone. You were kicking his ass and eventually beat him enough times (four times) that he decided it was time to change games. He kicked your ass at Scrabble and Connect 4 for retribution, but by that point you’d had at least four glasses of wine and were pretty tipsy. He was too, he was all giggly and pink in the cheeks and the tip of his nose, almost as if he were freezing cold and not teeming with warmth. His voice had dropped a bit deeper and his eyes had a slight glassy sheen over them and they were a bit lidded. You were both far more touchy now, it started rather innocently though.

“You’re cheating.” You said to him as he laughed.

“How can you cheat at Scrabble!?” He asked through his laugh.

“You’re picking your tiles.”

“I am not!” He scoffed through a laugh.

“Let me pick one for you then.”

“Hell no.”

“I’m only getting consonants! I need to prove that something is up.”

“How is that possible?”

“It just is!” You said and he laughed.

“Only if I can pick your letter.”

“Okay, deal.” You agreed and you drew his next five tiles after he’d put down ‘reflex’ joint to your previous word, ‘car’. 

“I got one consonant, a good one too.” He said as he arranged them on his rack.

“Of course you did…” you murmured as you looked over your options. You really only had consonants. “Okay…” you said as you grabbed the only three tiles that would work with what was on the board, “Eggs.” You said with a small smile as you tagged on the g-g-s to one of the e’s in ‘reflex’ and he burst into laughter.

“That’s all you have?! I don’t believe this.” He said.

“It is!” You laughed through your insistence.

“Let me see.” He said reaching for your rack of letters and you batted his hand away.

“Stop cheating!”

“I’m not! I’m trying to help you.” He chuckled as he grabbed your wrists in one hand to grab the rack and turn it towards him. When he saw your letters his smile dropped, “Mmmm, I see your predicament. And here I thought you just couldn’t spell…” He teased with a smirk and you arched your eyebrows up at his little joke.

“Ha-ha.” You mocked and he chuckled.

“Come here.” He said patting the spot beside him on the tabletop and you were tipsy enough that you didn’t question it. You dragged your stool over beside his and he sighed that you were too far and you squealed in surprise when he grabbed the edge and tugged you even closer to him as easily as if he had slid your empty glasses of wine out of the way. You knew he was strong, you’d seen it with your own eyes over the course of your professional relationship together. But with your growing feelings and the wine fogging up your brain you melted inside at this simple display of strength.

“Geez!” You gasped and he chuckled.

“Sorry.” He hummed with a smile before patting at your hip and looking back at the rack of letters he took from you. “Okay, so…you’re a bit fucked.” He said after scanning the rack some more.

“Well, you didn’t need to drag me over here to tell me that.” You giggled and he turned to you.

“Well, you’re here now, so win-win I’d say.” He flirted and you felt the blood rushing up to your face and making your cheeks and ears go hot.

You didn’t move from his side the rest of the time you were there. All games were forgotten, you were just fiddling with each other’s fingers under the table, your hand resting over his thigh, talking nonsense, and giggling as the alcohol got to the both of you. The way he was looking at you was making you feel like the only other person on the planet. You typically shied away from intense, undivided attention but he wasn’t ostentatious in the way he gave it. It was subtle and personal, it made you feel seen. After ordering one more glass you decided it was time to go, so Harry called your driver. You were getting hungry for some real food as you’d only been munching on the complementary bread they’d been bringing you guys.

“Bill’s here.” He informed you and you reached for your bag while Harry came around and helped you off of the high stool. You were wearing some heels because he was just so tall, but of course, your landing was a bit shaky and you both laughed as he grabbed around your waist. “You good?” He asked with a grin and you nodded up at him, “Sure?”

“M’sure. Just got a little wobbly there.” You giggled as you glanced up at him.

“Here.” He said extending his hand.

“It’s alright. I’m good.” You assured him.

“I’m sure you are, but we’re supposed to do the pictures for the paps, remember?” He said more quietly.

“Oh right, right…” you mumbled and it made you a bit sad as you handed your hand over. He took it and started guiding you though the bar to get out.

You could see people in the bar also taking videos of you guys walking out, calling all this attention to yourself like you were supposed to. But hey, at least you were holding his hand. When you guys got outside the flashes started going off and the paps were calling out to you both but you kept your eyes down at Harry’s shoes, you were a little too tipsy for this. Harry’s grip on you tightened as he pulled you to the car waiting right along the curb and then opened the door to help you in before sliding in behind you.

“God, didn’t think there’d be so many.” He said and you nodded as you buckled up.

“Heading home?” Bill asked.

“Yeah, please. And can you make a little detour on the way so we could get some food?”

“Certainly.”

“Okay, we’re still choosing we’ll pick something on route to her place.”

“Sounds good, just let me know.” He smiled and Harry thanked him before asking you again what you wanted. 

You eventually settled on some dumpling place on the way and placed your order online so that it would be ready to pick up when you arrived. Thankfully, that all went to plan and soon you were being dropped off at your house. The lack of stimulation really perpetuated the tipsiness you were both feeling. You were laughing as you navigated your way to your kitchen in mostly the dark, guiding Harry through so that he wouldn’t get hurt.

“Here we are. Can’t wait to eat.” You said and he nodded in agreement. You guys split the food and then curled up on your couch to watch something on the TV while you ate and chatted. Harry started to sober up a lot faster than you which was great as he had to go home after this. You were trying to get on his level so you chugged your big glass of water and then dropped back onto the couch.

“You feeling alright?”

“Yeah, a bit better.” You said and he smiled.

“Good. Did you have fun?” He asked and you nodded.

“A lot of fun actually. Though to be fair, I think you pick fun things to do.” You said and he smiled.

“Oh good! I mean I think I’m quite boring.” He confessed.

“No…I don’t think you’re boring at all. I’m definitely more of a homebody so getting to do all these different things has actually been really great.” You assured him.

“Funny, I pegged you as more of an extrovert than me.” He said and you shook your head.

“Oh no, I’m definitely more introverted than anything.” You chuckled.

“You know, I have a lot of fun with you too. I’m glad it’s you I get to do this with.” He said as he glanced towards you and you smiled down at your lap.

“Yeah, me too.” You responded weakly, but he didn’t catch it, thankfully. 

Truth be told, you were still tipsy and were having a hard time getting down to his level of sobriety. And with that came this avalanche of sincerity that could not be avoided or misdirected. In fact, the longer he stayed with you the more you felt the thread of your composure starting to fray. You were fighting against yourself and your need to get closer to him, you wanted to feel his warmth radiating onto you, you wanted the scent of his cologne to waft over you as you buried yourself into his side. You wanted to feel the rumble of his chest when he spoke lowly to you.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just…thinking.” You said through a tight lipped smile.

“About?”

“Just the film and how much fun I’m having. S’gonna be sad when it’s over.”

“Yeah, it will be. But you don’t have to think about it being over just yet.” He reminded. “We’ve still got a couple more months of filming and things…and this.” He said and you nodded.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You decided and suddenly stood up. “I need to go to the bathroom. Ummm, let me take all of this…” you said of your food containers.

“It’s alright, I’ve got this, you go on.” He assured you and with one more confirmation via a firm nod you headed off to the bathroom.

You just needed to splash some cold water on your face or something. Do anything to freshen up a little and get out of your head. So you did just that as soon as you’d relieved yourself. You grabbed one of the hand towels and soaked it with cold water and dabbed it all over your face. After a few moments you were heading back out and to the kitchen where Harry was just filling up the bag the dumplings had come in with you trash.

“Do you want the vinegar and and chili oil?” He asked, hearing your steps behind him.

“Ummm, just the chili oil. I repurpose it.” You said and he smiled and dropped in the two little sauce cups of black vinegar before tying it up. “You can just leave it, I have to take it out back.” 

“Sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Alright. Well, it’s nearing 1am, I should get going.” He said as he turned around and you nodded.

“Yeah. Ummm, are you good t-to drive?” You asked and he nodded.

“Yeah, the food really sealed the deal.” He chuckled and you smiled.

“Positive? You can stand on one leg?” You asked jokingly and he did so. “Count down from 100 in intervals of 7?” You asked with a raised eyebrow and he scrunched his face down pensively.

“I can try…I didn’t finish high school so it might be a bit harder for me thank most.” He said with a small grin.

“Mmm…don’t think that’ll hold up in court.” You joked and he laughed and shook his head.

“You’re quite funny, you know?” He said and you smiled and shrugged.

“Triple threat.”

“I think that third is supposed to be the dancing bit actually.”

“Who cares about dancing? Would you rather a partner who can dance or who makes you laugh?”

“Mmm…Facts.” He smiled and you shrugged.

“No brainer.” You said and he nodded, “Okay, I’ll uh, I’ll walk you out.” You said and you guys made your way to your door.

“Genuinely, I’ve had an especially fun time with you tonight.” Harry said as you got into the foyer.

“Me too. I’ve never done something like that before.”

“Well, we could always do it again, maybe you’ll have better luck with Scrabble.” He smiled and you chuckled.

“Yeah, maybe.” You said, “Hey so ummm, in a few months the LA Opera is opening up Turandot.” You said and he looked at you quizzically, “I’m sure you know the most famous song, or at least heard it?”

“How does it go?”

“It’s the…Nessun dorma, nessun dorma. Tu pure o principessa, nella tua fredda stanza… you’ve heard it.” You said and he nodded.

“Yeah, I think I have.”

“Yeah, it’s this incredible Italian opera and I’ve always wanted to see it but none of my friends are really into that. Not that you are, but you said you like classical music, this is kind of a branch of of that…in a way and-”

“I’d love to go.” He said and you smiled.  

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure. We could tally off another one of our appearances.” He said and you bit your lip as the pang of hurt radiated from your chest and out to the rest of your body. But you smiled and nodded.

“Y-yeah, exactly. Just get another one of those out of the way.” You responded, trying your best to ward off the growing knot that was lodged up in your throat. You really were just inviting him as a friend, not as part of your PR arrangement, so the sting of rejection remained.

“Cool, I’ll get the details from my team then.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, holding back the need to cry now. It hurt so bad, you hadn’t been in this position in a long while, the unrequited affections position. You really just struggled with dating so you hadn’t really spent a lot of time with someone you were into in a long time so everything was just intensified in a way, including the disappointment. You quickly opened up the door to get him out of there as soon as possible so that you could go cry it out for a bit. “Remember we don’t shoot tomorrow morning.” You reminded and he smiled.

“Positive?” He asked as he turned to you and you nodded.

“It’s an afternoon shoot tomorrow.” 

“Okay, thank you. When’s call time?”

“For you it’s 3pm.” You said and he nodded.

“Okay…I really should start adding these to my calendar.”

“You should.” You concurred as he turned back to you with a smile.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He said and you nodded and he stepped closer and went in for a hug. You did hug sometimes, but you didn’t want to just now, but you gave in anyway, relaxing into his embrace as he squeezed around you just a bit. “Sleep well, alright?” He said softly as he started to pull back and you nodded but then he turned his head a bit and your noses bumped together.

“Sorry-”

“S’my fault.” He chuckled and then glanced down at your lips. “I ummm…” he trailed off and just grabbed your jaw gently and tilted it up and kissed you quickly on the lips. You didn’t even have time to react before he pulled away. “Shit.” He cursed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! Obviously, that was a mistake, I shouldn’t have done that.” He rambled as he let you go and took a step back.

“It’s alright, Harry.” You said and he shook his head.

“I didn’t even ask you and ummm…I don’t know, something just came over me and I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean t-to kiss you. Fuck…” he cursed at himself.

“Harry, I’m not upset. It’s fine.” You assured, trying to hint at the fact that you were very okay with this. 

“It’s not fine, Y/N. It’s not.” He said firmly and you couldn’t help it as your eyes started to well up, “It was a mistake. I’m not like into- like it just happened, okay?” He said instead and you just nodded. He was backed up enough now that he couldn’t see your glassy eyes all that well anymore.

“I get it, Harry. Drive safe.” You rushed out and then hurried inside and closed your door before locking it and resting your forehead against it as a soft sob broke past your throat.

*****************

After the initial shock wore off Harry rushed up to your door again, about to knock and apologize again but just as his first raised up he heard the latch of the deadbolt and sighed in defeat. He rested his forehead against the thick door for just a moment before he walked to his car. He got in and then glanced up to see if he could spot you through a window or make out where in the house you were by the flick of a light, but it just stayed dark for a minute or so and he shook his head.

“Fuck…fuck me.” He grumbled before taking off.

Harry actually had no idea where that impulse to kiss you had come from. He did like you, he wouldn’t have agreed to anything more than the film if he didn’t. And he had also had so much fun working with you so far, it was just so easy and such a good vibe that he often forgot that it was “work”. Like tonight, after having a few glasses of wine he was feeling rather touchy and vulnerable, like he usually did when he drank, and it was so nice to feel that relaxed around you. He felt comfortable and it really was just one of those impulsive thoughts that he had. He had thought about kissing you before, you would for the film. But lately it was on his mind a lot more because those scenes would start filming soon. Maybe even in the upcoming week. 

Harry wanted to call Tommy or Jeffrey and tell them what he did but he kew he’d get an earful and he didn’t want that right now. He just needed a little sympathy and possibly another drink. So he called one his more discrete friends as she also lived in Beverly Hills, just about 10 minutes away from you. And they sat out by the fire pit as they sipped on a cocktail. He was petting at her dog’s back while he shared what he’d done and how anxious he was feeling about having to face you at work now. He told her about the PR stunt and how he felt like he’d majorly crossed a line. And when she asked him why he was beating himself over this so much he wasn’t sure what to say. And she helped talk him down and reminded him that if you had said it was OK and you weren’t angry that this was entirely about him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re making it bigger than it is. I mean…do you like her?”

“Of course I like her. We get along really well and-”

“You know what I mean, H.” She said with a knowing smile and he licked over his lips.

“Yeah, I guess I do a bit. Like starting too but I can’t you know? Last time I got involved with a co-worker it didn’t turn out so great for her. People were cruel.” He said.

“Well this isn’t last time. But I mean, if that’s now a boundary that you really don’t want to test ever again then do what’s going to make you feel better. But I mean, attraction and feelings are sort of out of our hands, you know?” She said with a smile, “And burying those too deep also isn’t good for you.” 

“Yeah.” He sighed.

“Did she kiss back?” 

“No.” He said quietly and she hummed, “I mean, it was fast…maybe she would have…I’m glad I didn’t stick around to find out though.” He admitted.

“So…I think you know how you want to proceed then.” She said and he sighed and nodded.

“Yeah, I guess…I guess I do.” 

He ended up staying the night there as neither of them had anything in the morning. But he headed home after one final pep talk from her, he needed to mentally prepare for seeing you again. He was an absolute wreck over it, his stomach was turning anxiously when he arrived before his call time just to talk to you, you were likely already there in hair and makeup. There was a dinner party scene you guys were filming, it was the scene where his character began to see yours in a different light. Very appropriate. 

“Hey Harry.” One of staffers greeted him as he breezed by.

“Hello!” He waved and then pushed up his glasses further not he bridge of his nose. He hurried over to the hair/makeup trailer. He knocked and heard a cheerful “come in!” From the artist Veronica. Harry stepped inside and as soon as your eyes met through the mirror you looked away quickly and then his eyes met Veronica’s.

“Hey H! I wasn’t expecting you yet!” She said with a smile.

“Just wanted to drop by a bit earlier.” He said and she nodded.

“Well feel free to sit, I’m almost done with Y/n. I’m ahead of schedule.”

“Thanks, ummm, I actually needed a word w-with Y/n.” He said to her, “If I can?” He asked and then glanced to you, to see if that was alright with you. You held his gaze for a second before you nodded.

“It’ll just be a moment, V.” You said to her.

“Maybe like 5-10 minutes.” He said to you and your inhale literally stopped. Your stomach fluttered violently, your heart pounded hard, and your mouth slightly dried.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll go get a drink. Do you guys want anything from the cafe?”

“No thanks, I’m good.”, “No thank you.” You and Harry responded and she smiled and gave him a pat on the arm as she walked past him and out of the trailer. Harry approached and sat in the seat adjacent to yours. You turned to him and he looked sad, defeated.

“Y/n, I’m so fucking sorry.” He apologized again and your eyes flickered down to your lap and you shook your head with a small smile.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Harry.” You assured him, “I’m not mad. Quite frankly I’m relieved because…because I…I uh-”

“Please, don’t.” He interrupted and your eyes fluttered up to his as the lump in your throat grew, “I know you what you’re about to say. Please don’t say it.” He implored and you bit down on your lip to hold back from frowning. “It doesn’t work. It won’t.” He said with certainty, “I’ve been there…I’ve fallen in love with a really wonderful person who was working along side me and it messed her up.” He said with a frown. “I can’t do that to anyone ever again.” He explained.

“I get it.” You whispered.

“Believe me, it’s hard. I think we work well together, don’t we. We mesh!”

“Really nicely.” You agreed.

“Yeah.” He confirmed, “So let’s-lets just do what we need to do and call it a day.”

“Okay.” You nodded your head robotically. You just shut down all your feelings because you couldn’t show him how deep in it you were by now. If you could save yourself from anything, at least the embarrassment.

“Does this change anything for you in terms of like the dates-er appearances w-we have to do?” He asked and you shook your head.

“No. Don’t want to make a fuss. Fred is kind of a nag, don’t want him harping and teasing me about it until something more embarrassing or astonishing makes him forget it.” You said.

“Yeah, they can give you a hard time…” he said and you nodded.

“Well uh- actually there is one thing.” You said and he nodded, “T-the opera thing ummm, let’s not do that.” You said and he frowned a bit, “It’s just that when I asked I ummm…I wasn’t asking you to go as an idea for the appearances. This kind of means a lot to me and I was actually asking you to come with me as a friend.” You clarified, “I’d want to go with well…someone who-”

“I get it.” He said with a small smile.

“Thank you.” You nodded.

“Well that’s it I guess.”

“Yeah.” You whispered and he stood and left quite awkwardly.

Once again, he was kicking himself over what he’d just done but it was for the best. He needed to put an end to this before he let himself like you a little too much and it ruined everything. Or worse, he gave in and you guys tried for a bit before things inevitably went to shit because of how awful the public were to you until they wore you down…better safe than sorry. He needed to stop this before it was too late.

***************

You were definitely hurt but you understood where Harry was coming from. And maybe he was right, it was just a bad idea to get involved more than professionally. Admittedly, if you had been in the place of his last girlfriend there was no way you could’ve been as poised as she was through all of it. Through all of the rumors, all of the hate, all of the lies, all of the tasteless jokes… you were confident in yourself but not to that extent, surely you’d have a public breakdown at some point with all of that pressure. 

But as the days went by you realized that you’d soon be filming the more intimate parts of this film. Normally, films didn’t film chronologically but this one did. The director really wanted to capture the natural growing closeness between you and Harry as filming progressed. Truth be told, you were acting your asses off and everyone on the set was buying it even though the bond between you two had broken down. Even your dates were different; you guys weren’t talking as much as before or learning more and more details about each other like before. Now you mostly talked about work to him or your plans after filming but nothing too personal. 

You were still nervous for the intimate scenes though, that’s what you would be doing today, the first intimate scene. You would surely do something to give away just how real your yearning was for him. Your actions couldn’t lie. Especially after you hadn’t been able to kiss back when he’d kissed you a few weeks before.

“Nervous?” Veronica asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, a bit.” You confessed.

“Don’t be. Just work with the natural tension and attraction the two of you already have going on and it’ll be perfect.”

“What do you mean?”

“Girl, you’re really gonna make me say it?” She said with a tsk.

“There’s nothing else going on.” You said and she gave you a disbelieving look.

“What was that a couple weeks ago with the “ten minute talk” he needed to have with you?” She asked you.

“It genuinely was a talk. We had a misunderstanding and I was a little upset at him.” You explained and her gaze softened from teasing and playful to sorry for assuming.

“Oh…I could’ve sworn that you guys-”

“No. No. I mean…I…I like him. Like that.” You said a bit shamefully and she pouted and sat down in the seat beside yours and nodded as she listened, “It’s kind of impossible not to when we spend so much time together and have gotten to know each other the way we have. Like god, it’s so amateur of me…” you shook your head and she sighed.

“Hey, no. Look at me, hon. Attraction is natural, you can’t help how you feel or how your brain responds to something! And quite frankly I think he…likes you too.” She said and you smiled sadly and shook your head.

“He doesn’t, that’s what he said that day. That he didn’t want to blur the lines and like…it’s been so weird since. So dry and robotic…ugh, I hate it so much. I don’t know how I can do this for another eight weeks.” You sighed.

“Well after you have to kiss all day just…act cool. It’s whatever, yeah? I’ve kissed tons of people and not all of it has to mean something, you know?”

“Yeah… I hope I can.”

“You can. You can do it. And i-if you need to talk about it or just be sad about it after you can talk to me. I won’t say a thing. Promise.” She assured you. 

“Thank you.” You said to Veronica and she smiled and nodded.

“Of course, hon.” she assured and this made you feel better. You could certainly get through the next weeks of filming if you had someone to talk to about this.

…. 8 WEEKS LATER ….

The lighting was dim as you approached the front door, the heavy and constant knocks on the door made you hasten your step. You finally opened the door to see Harry drenched from head to toe, clothes clinging to his skin as his eyes met yours.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked, your features creased in confusion as he stepped froward and you stepped back into the entrance.

“I needed to see you.” He said as he swung the front door back and it closed with a heavy thud.

“You just saw me-”

“I didn’t like seeing you with him.” He said coming closer and you sighed.

“Listen-”

“He’s not nearly good enough for you.” He said to you firmly and you scoffed.

“As much as I valued your opinion before, I don’t really care for it right now and I didn’t ask.” You responded.

“You didn’t need to. I know you.” He said as he reached for you and you increased the distance between the two of you.

“No you don’t. Not anymore.” You shook your head as your eyes started to well up.

“Don’t say that.” He frowned, the hurt evident on his face, “You’re my best friend. I know you.” He insisted again and you let out a sarcastic laugh.

“We haven’t spoken since…” you trailed off and swallowed thickly.

“Since I let you walk away.” He finished your thought for you and you nodded. “I was scared.” He admitted.

“You weren’t scared with April or Sarah.” You said and he sighed.

“They weren’t you. There was more to lose with you.” He explained and you shook your head.

“That’s a miserable excuse. You always do this!” You groaned with frustration, “You see that I’ve moved on, that I’m happy and then you come to me and make me believe you-”

“I know you’re not happy.” He interrupted.

“I’m happier than when I’m playing this stupid game with you!” You raised your voice, your breathing shallow as you expressed your frustration and he frowned. “You say you love me and fuck me and then say we can’t be together!”

“Can’t you see how that proves how much I love you?” He asked sincerely, his eyes meeting yours and you glanced away and shook your head, “I’ve loved you this whole time but I can’t risk losing my best friend.” He said and you sniffled as your tears started to fall.

“You don’t love me.” You rejected his claim, “You love who I’ve been for you. Always available, desperate for you to realize that I’ve been here the whole time, but I’m not that person anymore. I don’t need you any more.” You said and he frowned, “You don’t know what’s it been like…” you said to him with a sad smile, “Being here. Waiting. Watching you choose someone else over and over again and when it fails you come running back to me. But I’ve realized that if I wasn’t good enough to be your first or second choice, surely I’m not enough for you now. And I never will be.” You said to him, your voice cracked a bit.

“You are enough. You’re more than! I just wasn’t good enough for you. I didn’t want to hurt you and lose you.” He explained reaching for your hands and you pulled them out of his grip.

“Well, you hurt me any way. And you lost me anyway. And now that you know you’ve lost me you hate to see it. Well good.” You seethed and he frowned.

“Baby-”

“Don’t. Don’t start with that.” You warned with a frown, “I don’t believe you anymore. I gave my heart over to you every time, like an idiot, thinking that I’d be safe with you and every single time you’ve disappointed me! Well, not anymore.” You said and he reached for you again. “Please leave.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me that you love me too.” He pressed and you scoffed.

“You need to move on!” You laughed incredulously.

“I can’t! Believe me, I’ve tried!” He raised his voice, his breathing hard, “I’m sorry that I’ve hurt you and that I’ve disappointed you but I’m not afraid anymore.” He said reaching for your hands once more and this time you let him take them, “I’m not afraid of the love we have for each other. I will do anything I can to prove to you that it’ll be different this time. That I won’t disappoint you ever again.” He said earnestly, “Please.” He begged and you swallowed thickly. “I need you like I need air! Being away from you has been torture. And seeing you with someone else has been worse than torture.” He said grabbing your jaw and angling you up gently. His thumb wiped your tears away carefully and you closed your eyes, “Nuh-uh, look at me.” He insisted and your eyes blinked open and met his again. “Say it. Say that you love me, baby. I need to hear you say it.” He practically begged as he leaned in closer.

“I love you.” You whispered and he quickly closed the gap between you. 

His warm, plump lips met your own hungrily. The soft wet sounds of your kisses and shallow breaths were  the only noises in the background, everything was perfectly still otherwise and it really felt like you two were the only people in the world in this moment. You were so close his sopping clothes were transferring the wetness to your own top and his strong hands were holding you low on your hips now, you could feel the cold of them through the thin sleep shorts you were in. “I love you, I do.” You mumbled against his lips and then pulled back and he chased after you but you turned your head to the side and squeezed your eyes shut as he kissed the corner of your mouth and up your jaw, “But I love me more.” You said as you pushed him back and he loosened his grip on you as he pulled back to look at you, his disappointment evident in his gaze, his eyes searching yours. “I’m more than a last resort.” You said and he frowned, “I always chose you and you never chose me, so I’m choosing myself over you this time.” You said and he looked at you with disappointment.

“Cara-”

“You’re going to be okay.” You assured him and he shook his head.

“What a silly thing to say.” He whispered with doubt, a sad smile on his lips.

“If I am after everything, you will be too.” You assured him with a half smile and he let you go.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized quite pitifully and you nodded.

“I know.” You said once more and he rolled his lips together and nodded before silently turning around and heading out the door. You walked over and turned the lock and then turned around and let out a long exhale and then your lips turned up in a small, but sincere smile as you glanced up to the ceiling and made direct eye contact with the camera peering down at you.

“CUT!” The director shouted and you exhaled and your smile widened, “And that’s a wrap!” She shouted and everyone broke out in a cheer. She rushed over and hugged you tight, praising you for how excellent this final scene was. Harry came over as well and got his own hug from her, thanking him for his delivery and congratulating him on a job well done. You also gave him a brief hug before greeting others from the cast.

All the raw emotions of the project being completed really helped you guys along this final scene. It had been one of those magical moments where the first take went perfectly. You guys ran through the entire dialogue and it worked exactly as everyone had envisioned it. Truly, you hardly even noticed the cameras around you guys. The film would be released on Prime in three short months, which was when your contractual obligation to each other would end. Your appearances together were going to be far more “private” now that filming was about to wrap. Sure, you’d be seen out at places together, but it was supposed to start to slow down. You had prepared what you would say when someone inevitably asked you what was going on between you two during the promo tour and press junkets. That you guys got really close to the characters and also each other during filming and just let these bleed together while filming and that obviously, it had started to cool down since you weren’t seeing each other every single day for 10 to 11 of the 24 hours the day had. 

“We did it.” Harry said as he came up to you as you guys got ready to go and you nodded.

“Yeah. It’s crazy that it’s already done.” You chuckled, still a little bit in shock and he nodded.

“Right…well I did have fun filming with you.” 

“Same.” You said with a small smile and he nodded.

“Are you going to the cast dinner tomorrow?”

“Of course, I’m in the cast…” You said through a chuckle.

“Duh…” he said nervously as he looked down at his feet in a bit of embarrassment.

“Well I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah.” You confirmed and turned to get into your car and just offered one final wave before you took off. 

You glanced back to see him still standing there, watching you go. You were glad your windows were tinted so that he couldn’t see you staring back, but you just weren’t sure what to feel. As much as you were into him, you were dreading the rest of your time “together”. Clearly to him this was just like any other task he had for work, maybe he was used to this but you weren’t. You’d never done anything like this before and you kind of expected him to be a little more understanding and not so harsh and cold about it like he had been with you.

…. TWO MONTHS LATER ….

Harry wasn’t that clueless, he noticed the shift in your interactions with him after filming ended. Almost as if you were relieved that you wouldn’t have to see each other every single day for hours and hours at a time. He knew that you liked him and he wished he had handled that differently because clearly the way he went about it hurt your feelings to the extent that you’d gone completely cold on him.

When you’d go out and he’d grab your hand it was dead weight in his grip. When he’d drape his arm around your shoulder he could feel the tension in them. And when you’d exchange “loving glances” your smile didn’t light up your eyes like before. Maybe it was just what you needed to do to get through the last month of this stunt but it was just going bad now. He wanted to apologize but he had no idea what he even needed to apologize for because he wasn’t sorry about the conversation he’d had with you.

You guys needed to tighten things up at the personal level, clearly he got far too comfortable with you fast and it scared him. He didn’t want to get hurt again and he didn’t want to hurt you either. He’d done this to protect you both from getting far more involved than necessary and now he felt like even the potential friendship he could have with you was crumbling before him which was really unfortunate. 

He was feeling bummed out as he drove past your tall, wooden gate and up the long driveway to your house. He saw another car there but didn’t really mind it as he parked somewhere out of its way. He was getting out of his car when the front door opened and out rushed some guy who definitely looked familiar, probably some other industry guy. His hair was wet and he looked a bit surprised to see Harry there, so he rushed to his car.

“Hey!” He called after him and hurried towards him.

“Look man, she said you guys aren’t dating and-”

“Wait, she slept with you?” Harry asked with a small frown.

“So you are dating?” He asked and Harry shook his head ‘no’, “Thank, fuck. Then, yes, we did.” He said and Harry nodded and swallowed thickly.

“Is she- can I go in?”

“Yeah, she’s just finishing up her shower.” He said and Harry nodded.

“Thanks, mate.” He mumbled before heading towards the door. 

With every step he took the anger rose and rose further and further. You were being reckless, putting everything in jeopardy all to what? Get back at him for not liking you back? He was waiting in the kitchen, but when he heard you singing along to whatever was playing on your phone as you made your way down he hurried out to meet you. When he rounded the corner and saw you coming down the final step you gasped in surprise.

“Oh my god, Harry!” You scolded with a hand over your chest as you put your music on pause. He didn’t answer so you walked past him, “You’re here a lot early.” You said to him playfully as he followed you wordlessly. He was just so fuming mad after seeing a faint hickey right beneath your jaw, “Hello?” You questioned him until his frustrated gaze met yours.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” He questioned you.

“What’re you talking about?”

“I saw him leaving. That guy.” He came right out and said it.

“Look, it was a spur of the moment thing, we were just having dinner and one thing led to another and-”

“You fucked him.” He said and you sighed. “How could you do that?” He asked you in disbelief.

“What do you mean? It’s not like we’re actually together.” You scoffed and he frowned but then let the anger overcome him once more.

“Exactly! We’re not together and if anyone sees some stupid dweeb leaving your house then all of this is going to be for nothing!” He rationalized.

“Oh my god, no one’s gonna see anything, Harry…”

“They might see that fucking hickey on your neck!” He argued, “How clueless can you be?!” He was berating you now, his voice raised and his expression creased in a scowl and you frowned.

“I didn’t think about that. I mean, I-I can cover it. If not, they’ll just think it was you.” You said more quietly.

“No one would ever believe that was me. I have never left visible marks on anyone I’ve been with. My fans will never buy it.” He said pointedly. “You can’t do shit with other people while we are contractually obligated to each other. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out, Y/N!”

“Well, there is no clause about that! And I was careful!”

“Not careful enough! I can’t believe you would do something so stupid and all for what? To get back at me?” He scoffed with an accusatory tone and now it was your turn to scoff incredulously.

“Oh, don’t fucking flatter yourself, Harry!” You laughed mawkishly as you rolled your eyes up in disbelief.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t do this on purpose to piss me off.” 

“Why would I want to piss you off if I have to spend a whole fucking day with you?” You asked him and well, he had no idea. “He likes me and he wanted to have dinner with me. I said I couldn’t do that out in public so I offered for him to come over instead.”

“He doesn’t like you, he just wanted to fuck you.” Harry said with a sarcastic smile.

“Well good for him then! He did!”

“You’re being childish.”

“I’m being childish? You’re the one waltzing in here over an hour early, might I add, yelling at me because I hooked up with someone in the privacy of my home when we’re not even a thing!”

“I already told you why I’m angry at you over this.”

“Well I already told you that I was careful! This is my first time doing something like this and I made a bad judgment call. I genuinely didn’t think it would be a problem.” You said and he shook his head. 

“You knew it would be. You did it to get back at me for…never mind.” He huffed and rolled his eyes.

“For what? Finish the sentence, Harry.” You demanded.

“You know why.” He said lowly and you arched your eyebrows up.

“I don’t. Enlighten me, please.” You insisted.

“Because of what I said to you before about us. I hurt your feelings and-”

“Yeah, you were kind of a prick about it but I’m not offended. You were right about that and I think I’ve done enough to manage what I used to feel for you-”

“Used to feel? The wave of hostility you’ve unleashed upon me after I rejected you says otherwise. And I think you’re just acting out because you can’t get a handle on your feelings. You’re being impulsive and it’s going to throw a wrench in things!”

“I’m being impulsive? Who kissed who, Harry? I’m forgetting…” You said sarcastically and he glanced to the ground.

“That was a mistake.”

“Yeah, you’ve made that abundantly clear over and over again, thanks.” You said with irritation. “And I’m not being hostile. I’m doing what I need to do until we just get this stupid thing over with!” You said to him, completely exasperated, “I’ve never done this before, OK? I didn’t expect t-to like you like I do-er did.” You corrected yourself with a shake of your head, “I’m sure it was weird for you the first time you did it.” You said and his jaw clenched up because you were right. 

His first PR stunt fucked him up for a while…he was still a teenager, frontal lobe smooth as butter. But he let himself fall and he thought she was too and well, to this day he was still a hot topic amongst her projects. It did bother him a little bit at first, he reckoned it’d bother anyone but he didn’t give it the satisfaction of a negative response ever. He changed the narrative, called it a compliment even though he had no idea where the fuck he was going with that at the moment. He never said a bad thing even through his music even though he’d been painted as the “bad guy” who was a player and couldn’t commit over and over again. He’d hoped it would work out but to anyone outside of it, it was kind of obvious that it wouldn’t go anywhere. After all, what could a 23 year old want with a 18 year old in any serious manner? The point being, that these PR stunts and crossing professional lines always left one or both people hurting if they weren’t overly cautious, which is why he had said what he had said to you. 

But now he was jealous, gut wrenchingly jealous when he shouldn’t be. You had made a mistake but you had been cautious to not endanger what you guys had signed on for. He was being far too harsh with you and sensitive about this and he needed to reel it back in. You were waiting for him to say something, anything…

“You shouldn’t have done that. It was a stupid mistake.” He said again and you swallowed thickly.

“Yeah, I get it.” You responded lowly.

“Do you?” He asked. He was patronizing you and you glanced up to the ceiling and shook your head.

“Harry, honestly, I don’t need this. Please leave.” You said to him and he frowned.

“But we-”

“I don’t want to be with you for the whole fucking day and pretend that I like you.” You said and he felt his heart shrivel up.

“We have an obligation to do an appearance-”

“Well I’ll see you around dinner time then because I don’t want to be around you right now.” You said to him and he bit on the inside of his cheek to distract from the hurt in his heart.

“Yeah, alright.” He said lowly and turned around to leave.

“Congrats by the way.” You said to him and he sighed and looked back at you quizzically, “You got what you wanted this whole time, I don’t think I like you anymore.” You said to him callously and he suddenly wanted to throw up so he just hurried out of there and sat in his car in utter silence for a few minutes before taking off.

You guys did meet over dinner and he apologized for how he’d handled the whole situation earlier that day. You'd cooled off enough as well and apologized for not considering what he had mentioned and assured him that you wouldn’t do it again while you were contractually obligated to each other. He was hoping to hear you say that you didn’t mean what you’d said about not liking him anymore, but he never got the satisfaction. He was certain you’d spoken purely out of anger with him, especially after he’d been such a dick about it, but maybe you just needed to tell yourself that to really not let your feelings grow anymore than they had or even to just not have some illusion that he was jealous. Which he was, but he’d never admit that to you or anyone else, he hardly admitted it to himself. But by the end of the night you were both very cordial with each other and able to hug before heading your own ways.

…. FOUR MONTHS LATER ….

The film had been a success to say the least. It was getting decent reviews and your press for it had been good. After you and Harry had put aside your problems after your fight things got monumentally better. There were tons of questions about whether you guys were dating or not and you both explained your attraction and dedication to your roles expertly, leaving a hint of mystery behind every time this came up, in very Harry-esque nature. But each night before you went to bed in whatever city you were for the night you thought of Harry, how could you not?

Of course you still liked him, even now, after months of not seeing each other your heart went all soft and gooey at the thought of him. Yeah, you had said that you didn’t like him anymore hoping to get a reaction out of him when you fought. You knew that he was jealous that day and you wanted him to just admit it, you wanted to get a rise out of him and hope he spoke up but in his true obstinate nature, he never did. You wondered what would’ve happened if he had admitted it. Where would you be now? Probably on a vacation somewhere really getting to know the parts of each other that you’d left guarded, which admittedly weren’t many.

“Earth to Y/N…” your friend said, snapping you out of your thoughts and you chuckled in slight embarrassment.

“Sorry, what?” You asked.

“I asked if you and Harry still talk.” She repeated her question.

“Oh right…ummm, n-not really. It’s not like we’re close friends, we just worked together. We just had to be super chummy during the press tours and stuff. Like it was a really superficial friendship I’d say.” You fibbed and she sighed.

“So no free shows for us…” She mumbled and you smiled a bit and shrugged apologetically, “You had one job.” She joked and you giggled before getting back to eat and everyone else started talking again. 

In reality, you and Harry had gotten close after spending so much time together. You’d shared a lot of things with him and vise versa. He had been a little more hesitant to take it there but after a good month or so of constantly being around each other and “seeing each other” he started to open up about more real and deep things. Things like how much he worried about his mom, how she deserved to be happy and have a full life full of love. How he was worried that he’d never be able to really stop making music and touring at the level he did now and it would affect his ability to marry and have his own family. How he wished there was a way to know that you were doing the right thing or going down the best path and you guys talked about that a lot. About what “the right thing” was. About what it meant to be happy and fulfilled. What was most important to him now and could he afford to keep pushing the rest of his life back to relish where he was now.

You were an over thinker, much like him, and you guys talked about how nice it was when you didn’t worry so much and just lived day to day, focusing on that day’s challenges and blessings. It was nice, you felt comfortable around him and safe, looked after. He was good at making people feel seen and special and with all of that it was hard not to start to fall for him. You missed him a lot. You wanted to text him or call him sometimes just to see how he was doing, what he was up to, if by any chance he missed you too…When you had that thought you smiled to yourself a bit and talked yourself out of it. Of course he didn’t miss you, he was probably glad you were gone, something less for him to deal with and worry about.

****************

Harry’s POV

Harry had been lying in bed for a good hour already, drifting in and out of sleep. He canceled his work out and his morning swim, he didn’t have the energy to go to that right now. And that’s how he knew that he was in a bad way, when even those simple pleasures weren’t even a little appealing to him. In all honesty, he’d been feeling like this for a few weeks now and it all started when he was at dinner with some friends and one of your songs came over the speakers at the restaurant. At first it felt good to hear your voice, it made him feel happy and warm inside, but when he was at home later that night and all alone in his bed he started to miss you. And he felt so awful. 

He felt awful about how he’d handled his attraction towards you. He hated how afraid he was of doing what his heart asked him to. He missed going on “dates” with you. He missed the conversations you guys had, he missed seeing the sincere care in your eyes when he shared things or opened up about topics he felt nervous about. He was never judged by you, in fact he felt accepted with you. He looked forward to the time you’d spend together off the set for a reason, it was because he liked you. A lot. And now he felt foolish for being too scared to admit it when he had the chance. He was sad when he came to the realization that you’d probably moved on and closed off your heart to him after how he behaved.

Regardless, he wanted to see you or at the very least to hear your voice. He at least needed to reach out and let you know that he was thinking of you. He did have a trip to LA in a few weeks and he decided that he’d reach out and see if you wanted to hang out for a bit, he only had two days of work things to take care of but he could add a few more days to his travel plans if it meant making things right with you.

…. A FEW WEEKS LATER ….

You were genuinely shocked when Harry’s name lit up your phone screen one breezy afternoon. It was past midnight his time so you had a mind to just ignore it, he was probably drunk or something…but then you remembered how sweet and giggly he was when he’d had a little much to drink, so you swiped at your screen and brought your phone up to your ear.

“Hello?” 

“Hey!” He sounded relieved. Relieved that you had answered?

“Ummm…are you drunk?” You asked immediately and he huffed out a little chuckle.

“No…why would I be drunk at this hour?” He asked and you furrowed your eyebrows a little bit in confusion.

“Well you’re calling me past midnight your time so I just assumed. Unless something is wrong? Are you okay?” You asked next.

“Yeah, I’m fine. And I’m actually on your time. And while I enjoy day drinking as much as the next person I can assure you I am not drunk. I just ummm…I wanted to see if you had any free time in the next couple days or so? Maybe we could see each other?” He suggested hopefully and you felt your stomach sink. 

The less mature part of you wanted to be a smart ass with him, tell him you didn’t need to hang out as your contract was long over. But you did miss him and as much as his invitation raised up some of your past irritations with him it wasn’t worth being a bitch to him over, especially after all of that time. Maybe this was him extending an olive branch? Maybe you guys could be proper friends now that your working relationship was over.

“Ummm, yeah. I actually don’t have any plans at all the next few days.” You explained.

“And work?”

“I’m not doing anything right now just relishing in the big bucks from our hit rom-com.” You said with a dry sarcasm and he chuckled.

“God, already letting all that fame get to your head, are you?” He teased and you giggled.

“Yeah, I’m changed.” You responded and he laughed. “Well, what did you have in mind?” You asked.

“Dinner? I’m renting this really beautiful place up in the hills and it has the most impeccable views, you’d love it. There’s a hot tub and a pool and a piano, we could just hang out here for a while? Or if you prefer to do something in town somewhere we could do that too.”

“Well I do want to see this house you’re staying at but ummm, I don’t want to impose or anything and-”

“I’m inviting you over, you’re not imposing in any way, love.” He assured.

“Alright then. Well when do you prefer I come over?”

“Do you want to do tomorrow? Say around 3 or 4?” He asked and you bit on your lip, “We could talk, swim, share music because I’m certain you’ve been writing.” He said knowingly and you smiled.

“Yeah, that’s good. I’ll show up sometime between 3 and 4, gotta keep you on your toes, you know?”

“Yeah.” He hummed, “So bring your swim suit, or don’t I mean, either way you can expect to get in the water…” he said suggestively and you chuckled.

“Should I bring anything else?”

“No just yourself.” He said and you nodded, “We can plan dinner once you’re here.”

“Alright, sounds good. See ya’.” 

“See you soon.” He replied and then you quickly hung up.

You set your phone down on your lap and just let your face contort in confusion. What was that all about? You guys weren’t even friends… sure, things were this easy with him all the time but you couldn’t help but question his motives. Maybe he still felt guilty for how things transpired between the two of you and he just needed to do this to confirm that you weren’t upset at him. You grabbed your phone and called him back, he picked up right away.

“Hello?”

“Why are you doing this?” You asked.

“Wait, what?” He questioned you and you sighed.

“What do you want from me by asking me over to hang out or whatever?” You asked more clearly and Harry frowned upon hearing you asking this.

“Ummm, I didn’t…mean anything by it, it’s just hanging out.” He said and you sighed.

“Right, but we’re not friends.” You said and his heart lurched in his chest, “Now that we aren’t working together we can be or what?” You asked for clarity.

“I mean, yes, i-if you want that?” He said with a questioning tone.

“Okay…” you said and trailed off.

“Is there something wrong with that?” He asked and you weren’t sure how to answer that.

“I just ummm…I don’t know if I can trust that you won’t get all…weird.” You said to him.

“That’s valid.”

“I mean we were friends before. Or at least I considered us t-to have a friendship to some extent and then you just…took that away.” You explained and he nodded with a frown as he heard you out.

“I think we were friends too.” He agreed, “I just have a hard time letting people in.”

“And now you don’t?” You asked.

“No, I certainly do but I…” he sighed and licked over his lips as he plopped down on the couch as he stared at the ceiling as he decided to just admit it, “I miss you.” He confessed and you bit your lip upon hearing his words. You hoped it would stop the butterflies that were starting to flutter about in your tummy but it wasn’t doing much. “Honestly Y/N, I don’t think I handled the relationship between us the right way and-”

“Can I come over right now?” You interrupted him.

“Ummm, y-yes. Sure.” He said nervously.

“I just think we ought to have this conversation in person.” You explained and he smiled a bit. God, you had to make it harder for him, didn’t you?

“You’re right.” He conceded. “I’ll send you the address right now.”

“Should I still bring a swim suit?” You asked, he could heard the smirk on your face and he chuckled. Your smiled widened at your successful attempt to lighten the mood.

“We can talk things out in the hot tub.” He joked.

“I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“Yeah, drive safe.” He said and you thanked him and hung up again.

You headed up to your room and grabbed a bathing suit, a simple, paisley print, two-piece and dropped it into your tote and then took off. You were nervous, not so much about what he would say but at the prospect of you leaving with any sense of false hope. Yeah, he missed you, but that didn’t really mean anything but that. You couldn’t or shouldn’t read into that in any way. When you were all in your head like this time just escaped you and soon enough you were pulling up to the gate and putting in the code he had texted you before you started heading up the driveway. You only waited a few moments at the door after ringing the doorbell before he opened it up. 

“Hi.” He said softly with a smile on his face and you smiled back.

“Hey.” You responded, you just looked at each other for a few moments before he chuckled and moved out of the way.

“Oh, come in. Please.” He said and allowed you to step inside. You looked around as he locked up. The home was very modern, an open concept type of thing and it had one of those sunken living rooms that were making a come back. 

“This is cool.” You complimented.

“Yeah, I like it a lot.” He said as he came up beside you and looked out at the space. “Ummm, can I get you something to drink? Or a snack if you’re hungry? I have…watermelon.” He said and you smiled.

“No thanks, I’m alright.” You assured him and he nodded and just looked over you for a few more moments. It made you feel all tingly so you cleared your throat and he looked down at the ground.

“Ummm so let’s just…we can sit over here and talk.” He said signaling towards the living room and you nodded and followed him down the small set of steps leading down to the couches. “Feel free to get comfy wherever.”

“Thanks.” You said as you headed towards one of the corners of the large sectional and slipped off your shoes before you nestled in, legs criss-crossed over each other as you pulled a pillow into your lap. Harry settled in near you, one of his legs tucked under him and the other hanging off of the couch. He looked a bit pensive, not entirely sure how or where to start and you were getting a little impatient.

“So you…missed me.” You said simply and he glanced into you eyes and nodded.

“Yeah, I have been for…a while.” He confirmed and you sighed.

“I have too…a little bit.” You admitted as you looked down into your lap and he smiled.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, we did spend a lot of time together so…”

“Yeah, true.” You sighed.

“So ummm, what I was saying before…” he started and you nodded, “I didn’t go about things the right way with you. I could’ve been…”

“Less of a dick?” You interjected and he smiled down at his lap, when he looked up at you, you were already smiling.

“I was going to say nicer about it but same thing, I guess.” He chuckled and you did as well. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot and while my reasons for it were really valid, I think, it doesn’t mean that I handled it well and I…regret hurting your feelings. I’m sorry.” He said and you hummed.

“Thank you. I just…was -er still am a bit confused about that because, I mean, I told you that I’d never done something like this before and I don’t know…I guess I was just expecting you to be a little bit more understanding or even just compassionate with me about the whole thing, you know?” You explained and he nodded.

“I wish I had been. I really do.” He said with a small frown. “I can explain actually.” He said and you nodded, “And this is not an excuse at all, it’s just that, an explanation.” He added and you nodded again, “When I kissed you I…I realized how much I was starting to like you and it scared me.” He explained, “And it took me back to what I’d been through before and I didn’t want that again, not for me, but especially not for you.” He explained, “So I decided that I wasn’t going to allow my feelings for you to grow any more or go any further than that.” He said and your gaze on him softened, “And well, i-it worked well enough for a bit. It was easier when we were working to remind myself that it was for the best. And then we fought and you told me you didn’t like me anymore and I felt like shit but I was also glad because you deserved better than that.” He said with a frown. “But when we went our own ways it got worse…not worse, you know what I mean.” He said nervously, “I just thought about you all the time- er I have been thinking about you this whole time. Just wondering i-if you think about me too sometimes…I mean, I know that you don’t feel that way about me any more but-”

“I do.” You cut in and he looked surprised.

“After all of that?” He asked softly and you nodded.

“You more than made up for it on the press tour.” You assured him, “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or upset you so I buried it all but I still like you. I mean, how could I not?” You chuckled and he smiled at you. “And I’m sorry for the way I said I didn’t, I wanted to make you upset.” You explained.

“Well it worked.” He chuckled and you smiled sadly. “I kind of deserved it though.” He said, “You didn’t ummm…see that guy again did you?” He asked and you smiled.

“I didn’t.” You confirmed and he smiled down at his lap.

“Good.” He mumbled lowly and you just smiled to yourself for a moment, “I really like you, Y/N.” He finally said as his gaze met your own. “And i-if you still like me too then maybe we can try and go an actual date.” He said with hope and you nodded.

“I’d like that.” You agreed and he smiled wider.

“Okay, that’s…that’s good to hear.” He chuckled nervously, “So tomorrow d-do you want to go out and do something with me? I’ve got something in mind.”

“Why not tonight?” You asked with a small pout and he chuckled.

“Because I’d like to make it at least a little bit nice.” He added and you smiled.

“Oh okay, then. That’s fine with me!” You giggled and he chuckled. “I brought my bathing suit so maybe we can go for a swim and have dinner instead, like we planned for tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” He agreed easily and you both got changed and then got into the pool where you caught up on how the last few months had been treating you both so far. 

Then, you had dinner and watched a film and he reached for your hand while you guys watched. You’d held hands before but now you at least knew it was out of a desire to and not obligation it made the butterflies in your stomach swarm at ungodly rates. As the night wrapped up he walked you out to your car, like the sweet man you knew him to be but it was hard to leave. You guys lingered there, finding random little things to talk about to prevent saying goodbye.

“Thank you for hearing me out, by the way.” He said to you after another small moment of silence and you smiled up at him as you leaned on your car and smiled at him. “You didn’t have to after everything.”

“Of course. I’m really glad you reached out to me.” You assured him and he nodded and pulled you in for a hug for maybe the third time now and you nestled into him and sighed, “I really missed you too.” You hummed softly and he pulled back a little bit, enough to be able to look into your eyes again. Neither of you wanted to let go more than that.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You said instantly, “Please.” You chuckled and he did as well as he angled up your face gently by your jaw until he was dipping down enough to smoosh his lips against yours. 

He was tentative, he didn’t want to kiss you too hard and hungrily for the first time since the time he’d mucked it up. He wanted you to feel how much he missed you and that despite his previous disrespects, that he in fact did respect you and your time and openness towards him. His fingers skimming along your jaw caused your skin to rise with goosebumps and for a delicious shiver to zing throughout your body. You wanted to lose your cool and just let things get fiery with the tension that simmered between you but he was being so patient himself that it staved off your desperation. You wanted to enjoy how soft and tender he was being right now. You liked how his feelings were emanating from him in intense waves and warming you from the inside out. Finally, he pulled away, it was painful and almost impossible to let him end the kiss.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He whispered between the two of you and you nodded.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll pick you up around 7.” He informed and you nodded.

“Okay.” You whispered and he pulled you off to the side before opening your car door, “Thanks.”

“Of course.” He smiled and you bit your lip for a moment.

“One for the road?” You asked timidly and he grinned grabbed your face before pecking your lips once more.

“There you are. Now leave while I have the self-control to let you go.” He mumbled between you two and you laughed before settling into your seat and he closed the door behind you. You buckled up and got the engine on and he backed up, giving you room to get going and with a final wave you headed home. You weren’t driving fast at all but it felt like you were flying. You couldn’t stop smiling, even as you settled into bed and stared at the dark ceiling you were wearing a huge smile until you fell asleep.

***************

You’d been on edge all day wondering what it was that he would plan for you two. When you texted to ask what you should wear he said he was going for a semi-casual look, button down with a vest and trousers sort of thing so you decided on going for a similar vibe. You spent hours trying on a variety of combinations and in the end you settled on a black mini skirt with a creme colored, sleeveless knit top. You searched around for your chunky loafers and decided those paired best with the outfit as well. You had blown out your hair that morning so you got it into rollers and threw on a shower cap before you got in and exfoliated your body religiously. You knew your wax girl would kill you, but you ran a razor over your legs to get rid of the slightly prickly layer of hair growing in. You moisturized efficiently and then spritz yourself   with your current preferred fragrance, Brit for Her by Burberry. 

You had taken a fondness to the scent recently because it reminded you of him. Not that he even smelled like that but just vibe of it made you think of who he was. The prominent or top notes were sweet and fruity. They were bright and intriguing but not overpowering like some fruity perfumes could be. These blended so well with the warmer, darker base notes of  vanilla, amber, and mahogany. It created an alluring and irresistible blend of fragrances that seemed to perfectly encompass the feeling he gave you of comfort and warmth and excitement. You wanted it to linger and be memorable, the way he lingered and was memorable to you. Truly, you had no idea where this with him would go or if it would even work out, but you knew he was the kind of person who would leave a mark on you forever.

When you got his call that he was outside you grabbed you gave yourself one more spritz, grabbed your purse, and got into your shoes before hurrying out. He was waiting outside of the car for you, his smiled widened when you saw you going down the steps.

“You look lovely.” He complimented as you approached and you smiled timidly until you got up to him. 

“Thank you.” You hummed softly and he pulled you in for a hug and he froze for a second when you hugged him back.

“Fuck…you smell so good.” He hummed against you and you smirked victoriously as he squeezed around you a bit more. “Damn.” He mumbled as he dipped down to kiss right under your jaw and inhale the sweet scent. You giggled as his little bit of stubble lightly tickled your skin as he nuzzled closer.

“Stop that…” You laughed as he nipped at your skin.

“I can’t.” He huffed before kissing up to your lips and pecking over them a few times and pulling away with his lip bitten beneath his teeth.

“Please take me on a date.” You said softly and he smiled.

“Yeah alright.” He agreed with a grin and you giggled as he opened up the door for you. You greeted your driver and settled in as he hurried over to his side and soon enough you were on the road.

“So where are we going?” You asked as your fingers fiddled together and he smiled.

“You’ll see…” he said smugly and you chuckled. You both hummed along to the radio as you tried to figure out where it was you were heading but you seemed to be going in almost a circle as you started heading back towards where your house was. Then you guys turned down a street and you immediate recognized the area and saw the wine bar you guys had been to before just down the way.

“Are we going back to the wine bar?” You asked him and he immediately smiled as you started to slow down before it.

“I desperately need a do over.” He said to you and you smiled, “Things should’ve gone a lot differently than they did that night. So we’re doing it again, correctly this time.” He said with a smile as the car stopped at the valet station up front.

“You’re too sweet.” You said softly and he smiled. 

You were soon helped out of the car by the attendant as Harry met you on the sidewalk and you thanked the driver and valet before looping your arms together and heading inside. He gave his name to the young lady at the entrance and she kept her cool as she guided you on back to where you sat the last time you were there. Of course, people were looking but he didn’t seem to mind and soon you were tucked into the back of the bar, mostly covered from everyone’s curious gazes and just smiling at each other across the small table. You guys ordered your first glass and then got to playing Jenga; this one had questions pasted onto the sides of the blocks so you guys went through the tower, giving your responses and discussing these until you toppled it over. You couldn’t help it, your hands were shaky with nerves but also with excitement. He looked so handsome, it was almost painful not to look at him. Soon enough, two glasses turned to four, and you were both giggly and reminiscing your filming days fondly. He had been telling a story about a little mishap he had with one of the modesty garments for one of his scenes with another actress and you two were laughing so hard.

“Wait, wait, wait, I need to go to the bathroom so bad!” You laughed breathily and he chuckled as he let your hand go over the top of the table.

“Yeah, love you go on. Do you want me to order you another?” He asked and you nodded as you hopped down from the high stool.

“Please.” you confirmed as you came around. You were half expecting it when he pulled you in by the waist and nuzzled against your neck again.

  “You were too far away.” He hummed as he nipped under your jaw for a second as his big, warm palm nearly caressed down your bottom and you smiled.

“Behave.” You reprimanded playfully and he pulled back to meet your eyes.

“I am.” He assured you and you smiled. “Now go.”

“That requires letting me go.”

“I know…” he said and released you with some reluctance. He watched as you walked off, hips swaying hypnotically as you headed off. 

Yeah, you needed to use the bathroom but you also needed a break from the intensity of Harry’s gaze on you. It was intense before, but now that you knew he was also into you it felt overwhelming. This entire time he found a way to graze his fingertips against yours, to knock his foot into yours, to make you aware of the minimal space between the two of you as much as possible. As if you needed a reminder of how badly you wanted him in the first place. The more you drank the deeper his voice got and the more intense the tingles got when he spoke to you, you swore you felt the vibrations of his low drawn baritone at your core, rippling out to the rest of your body with each word. Lust didn’t begin to cover what you felt for him. Even as you sat there for a moment relieving yourself you could hear some other ladies in the bathroom talking about just how good he looked tonight and how demanding and intense his energy was. How it was practically impossible not to feel him in the space. When you opened up the stall door the girls talking about it froze and watched you for a second.

“You’re not wrong.” You said to them with a small smile and they looked relieved at how relaxed you were towards them. “Please don’t tell anyone that. I just needed to get it off my chest.” You chuckled bashfully as you washed your hands.

“No girl, your secret is safe with us.” One of them assured with a kind smile.

“You guys kissed in that movie a bunch of times, how are you still alive?” One of them asked and you chuckled.

“It was hard for sure…” you confirmed, “What was worse was how sweet he is…It makes it so hard not to take it to heart.” You explained and they hummed. 

“You look so cute by the way. Could we get a picture?” One of them asked and you smiled.

“Ummm sure!” You giggled and they hurried over. The first pic was a failure, you all laughed at your half closed eyes, “Sorry, I’m so fucking tipsy!” You giggled and on the third try you managed to keep your eyes open wide enough to appear normal.

“I wish we could get one with Harry too.” One of the girls said.

“Well, if you guys leave at the same time as we do I can try and talk him into it.” You offered and they gushed and thanked you and assured you they’d keep an eye out for this. 

They were so sweet to you, assuring you that you looked exquisite and giving you the confidence boost you really needed to flirt up a storm with Harry. He’d been so attentive and you’d been quite cool about it, but you were ready to reciprocate and show him just how much you wanted him too. When you made your way out of the bathroom it was with a new found confidence thanks to your bathroom besties. You were walking a little taller and with a little more sway as you headed back to your table. 

As you made it back to your secluded little section you saw that Harry had settled into the stool beside yours. He was initially looking at the drinks menu but then he glanced up and right into your eyes, almost as if he sensed you coming. When your eyes met you just about melted. You finally understood that famous and hunger-inducing line form Bridgerton - “I burn for you.” You were feeling it in real time. The energy between you two, the longing of his gaze and how it followed the curves of your body, taking you in from head to toe. You loved how you could see his restraint as you approached your table once again. You felt scrutinized but in a good way. You felt desirable, you felt like the perfect and delicate thing you’d always wanted to be in someone’s gaze. He made you feel like you were worth all the effort and more and you loved that. You knew you could be a little intense and rough around the edges at times but he clearly liked that. He found it amusing and endearing. He loved having something to fight for. He enjoyed proving to you why he was worth your time and effort.

“What?” you asked as you reached your seat and he shook his head.

“You’re just so fucking beautiful.” He hummed lowly as you settled into your seat. You smiled and then glanced up to him.

“Yeah? You think so?”

“I know so, love. Convincing myself otherwise was absolute torture.” He confessed and you bit your lip to suppress your smile and all of the feelings you had for him boiling inside of you. He shook his head and glanced down at his hands timidly. “Don’t do that…”

“Why not?” You pressed and he looked at you again.

“I don’t think I can handle it all.” He explained with a pained look in his eyes and you hummed softly. “You already smell so divine that I want to be close in enough to breathe you in. But you biting on your lip like that makes me want to bite it for you and suck it between my own. I know you’d taste so sweet because you like chewing that bubble mint gum.” He said to you lowly and you nodded almost dumbly as your gazes remained locked on each others.

“What if we call it a night a little early?” You asked him quietly and he smiled.

“Yeah?” He asked and you nodded and shivered when one of his hands landed on your thigh, right over your knee. 

“Text the driver.” You instructed and he nodded and pulled out his phone as you reached for your glass of wine. You chugged it down quickly as he texted the man, it was amusing to him how desperate you were to get out of there.

“D’you wanna stop for dumpli-”

“No.” You cut him off and he grinned before reaching for his own glass.

“I kind of don’t want to be anymore buzzed for you but-”

“It’ll feel nicer.” You said with a smile and he hummed.

“It would…” He agreed, his own smile ghosting along his lips.

“I’m still good though, are you?”

“Yeah, love.”

“Then, who cares?” You asked.

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” You assured him.

“I want you so fucking bad. That’s what were talking about, right?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah.” You confirmed and he flashed you that charming, dimpled boyish grin that you’d missed so much.

“Okay. As long as you really don’t mind-”

“I don’t. I promise you. Just want to be alone with you.” You assured him and he hummed and finished his glass. “I ummm ran to some girls in the bathroom, they were so sweet to me, they were fans and I told them if they walked out behind us you could take a picture with them outside. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, love.” He assured and you smiled. Moments later the driver was informing you he was pulling up and you started to head out. The girls from the bathroom followed, as you instructed, and they got their photo before you guys slipped into the SUV smoothly and headed off into the night.

You were tingling with his hand running up and down your leg, his fingers danced along your skin. His nose was buried against your neck, kissing you up and down as he inhaled the sweet scent lingering on your skin and in your hair. He was whispering to you how much he missed you and how he wished he hadn’t wasted so much time in reaching out. His fingers were burning into your skin as he slid them up your thigh to a dangerous degree until you gripped around his wrist and smirked at him knowingly. 

“What?” He whispered huskily, his eyes already dark and hazy with need.

“You know what…” you hummed lowly and he grinned.

“Sorry, I am trying to behave.” He assured you and then planted a kiss on your temple and lowered his hand to above your knee again. As much as you were asking him to stop, a part of you enjoyed how he pushed the limits a little bit. He clearly was dying to touch you and you were absolutely touch starved. Even just having him rubbing over your knee was causing your skin to rise with goosebumps. You couldn’t arrive at your place any sooner.

When you were finally heading up your driveway you were about ready to burst at the seems. You could feel how wet you were for him, it was even dripping down between your cheeks and you knew he’d love to discover that on his own so you kept it to yourself. Once you got out of the car and thanked the driver, he took off and you keyed your way into your home. As soon as the door closed behind you he pressed you up against it and locked eyes with you.

“This is where I need the do over.” He mumbled, lips tickling your own.

“Tell me more…” You whispered and he smiled and gabbed your jaw with his right hand while he grabbed your hip with his left and he leaned in and kissed you quickly, like he had that first time and his eyes met yours with a fake apologetic look in them, it was amusing really.

“Shit.” He whispered between you two; just like he had the first time, “That was a mistake.” He hummed as he looked into your eyes and you smiled as you decided to play along and role play it with him.

“Then why did you do it?” You asked and he bit his lip, nose skimming your nose with his again.

“I can’t help it. I like you. I like you so fucking much, Y/N.” He confessed softly.

“Then do it again. Like you mean it this time.” You requested. Before you knew it he grabbed your face and kissed your deeply. The hunger of it was making you weak in the knees. Your tongues tangled as you guided his hands down your waist, hips, and finally to the bottom of your skirt.

“Yeah? Can I?”

“Please.” You insisted and he slid them up under the fabric to feel your underwear-covered butt. He kneaded your cheeks in his big, warm palms, squeezing the fleshy bits fervently and feeling you up, pressing you up against his growing erection.

“I want you. I want you so fucking bad.” He breathed into your mouth.

“Me too.” You panted as you looped your arms around his neck, “Should we go up to my room?”

“Are you sure?” He asked once more through his ragged breaths. You kissed his slowly and nodded into it.

“I’m so fucking sure.” You confirmed breathlessly and he kissed you deeply again before you guided him up the stairs and into your bedroom. You threw the door back and you two immediately started undressing.

You didn’t care to make it all that romantic, especially with how tipsy you both were, you guys just wanted to feel each other. So as soon as you were naked you guys fell into your bed and he kissed from your lips down your body. He didn’t waste an opportunity to inhale your perfume before sinking down to your breasts and sucking at your needy nipples while his fingers rubbed precise little circles into your throbbing little clit with no preamble. You were grateful he got straight to it because you were desperate for any stimulation.

“You’re so fucking wet f’me, baby.” He hummed before nipping at your sensitive nipple once more and you whimpered, “Is that how bad you want me?” He asked.

“Yes! Yes, I want you so bad!” You whined as he pulled and sucked at your breasts with more force. You winced and whined as he sucked marks into the tender flesh of them to his satisfaction and your own. Before long you started to feel that familiar warmth swirling in the put of your stomach from his fingers on your clit. “Yeah H, just like that!” You cried into the air as he swirled around the sensitive little button over and over until your vision started to blur with your approaching orgasm. 

His lips kissed down your abdomen and finally he ended up between your legs and licked at you expertly and you mewled in satisfaction. His tongue replaced his fingers and flicked at your needy little bud while one of his fingers plunged into the depths of you, searching around for your spot. When your legs startled to tremble around his head, attempting to lock him in place  he knew you were close. And just seconds later he pulled an orgasm from you with ease and snuck in another finger in, this caused you to gasp and tense up before you just melted into your bed. He was just hitting the perfect spot with his fingertips, rubbing into a part of you that was making your pussy flutter in a way it never had before and you felt another orgasm unexpectedly building up.

“Yes! Yes, baby! I-I’m coming!” You gasped and he moaned into your pussy as he tarted to suck on your clit and you began to whither around his thick, lock digits. You were covered in goosebumps as the pleasure started to roll through your body in wonderfully timed waves that allowed you to enjoy his persistent stimulation into your greedy little cunt. Even this wasn’t enough. You were trembling but begging for more. “Please, I need you. I need more.” You panted in your impaired state.

“Don’t have a condom, love.” He chuckled against your smooth and sticky folds.

“Just pull out.” You panted as you raked your fingers into his hair and he groaned against you.

“Don’t tempt me, baby.” He chuckled and you bit your lip and tugged him up by the hair until his eyes met yours.

“I’m serious.” You assured him as you swallowed thickly, “Please baby, need you to fuck me. Need you to fuck me so good I forget everything except you.” You panted and he licked over his lips with a near pained expression.

“ Baby-”

“Please, H. Please, give it t’me. Want you so badly, it hurts, that’s how bad I need you.” You begged and he groaned as he caved to your request with a deep and sloppy kiss. You knew he was painfully hard as well. As much as you wanted a taste of him, you’d much rather feel his big, thick cock spreading you open and splitting you apart.

“Y’sure?” He panted as he hovered above you.

“I’m so sure, baby. So sure.” You assured him as he glanced up at you and before you knew it he was kneeling over you as you helped him out of his boxer-briefs, wrapping his thick length in your palm the moment it fell out of its constraint.

“Shit, a little tighter.” He mumbled and you tightened your grip around him and stroked him over and over, up and down, keeping him at full mast. “That’s it. Jus’like that.” He sighed in relief. You could feel the sticky texture of his precome when you’d reach the tip and drag it down his length. After a few moment of this he lowered his hips and settled against your hot and drenched folds, immediately the wet squelching sounds of him sliding through your labia became the most prominent sound between you two. “So fucking wet f’me. Shit, you want my cock so bad, don’t you?” He panted and you nodded and whined, “Say it. Say you want my cock in that pretty little pussy and I’ll fuck you with it. Stretch open that tight little hole, make it all mine.” He breathed into the minimal space between you two.

“Please, H.” You panted, “I need your cock. Need to feel you spreading my tight little hole open.” You pleaded, tearful eyes meeting his and he groaned and leaned down, squeezing  his eyes shut as he kissed you for a few seconds before he guided himself down to your entrance and fed the tip into your weepy little hold. “Oh fuck!” You gasped softly as he started to push in and he moaned as he felt you start to stretch around him.

“You can take it. I know you can, baby.” He panted as his eyes met your wide eyes again. You nodded in confirmation for him to keep going and he pushed in further, splitting you open until your eyes just fluttered shut until he was bottoming out and sheathed fully in the warmth of your wet and velvety walls.

You swore his tip was poking into your stomach from how deep he was. You’d never felt so full before, you were paralyzed for a few moments. He was big and thick, you swore it wiped out part of your brain when he started to grind into you. The thick, ruddy tip of his cock was prodding into your g-spot, causing your mind to blank and for your body to shiver with an abundance of pleasure. You were getting more drunk on his dick and even the way he was grinning down at you as you let out the most obscene moans was feeding your pleasure.

“Shit, you take it so well…fuck, love to see that tight little hole stretching wide around my cock, baby. Y’feel so fucking good…so fucking tight and wet f’me.” He groaned as he thrusted in and out, watching your little hole puckering around his thick cock. He moaned every time he pulled back, watching your creamy arousal streaking down his shaft with each deep plunge into your needy little pussy. He moaned and spat against your folds before rubbing his thumb into your clit and you shuddered.

“Yes, baby! That’s it!” You mewled as you grabbed your breasts, pinching at your nipples, helping him draw you up the edge of your orgasm. Harry was panting, feeling his balls thwacking against your ass had his mind going fuzzy with excitement. 

“Fuck…fuuuuck, you’re gonna make me come so fucking hard!” He chuckled breathily, head thrown back as he delivered sharp and powerful thrusts into you, over and over, living for the feeling of his tip colliding into the depths of you.

“Oh fuck…fuck! I’m…ohmygodI’mcoming!” You slurred and he smiled as you started to whither beautifully. Your back arched up, nipples pointed straight towards the ceiling as you trembled and soaked his cock with a soft squirt from how deep he was getting. Your ears were ringing and you were seeing white behind your closed eyelids but he wasn’t letting up until you got through the whole thing. You could hear him moaning and struggling to keep it together as he thrust in and out of you. Your walls pulsed around his cock hard and fast with your slick coated all over his thick length, causing him to lose some control over his movements. You were covered in goosebumps, shivering as you continued to come hard around him.

“Shit, baby! Shit!” He gasped as he started thrusting erratically, losing the steady rhythm he had maintained until now.

“Come for me, H. Come for me, baby.” You encouraged him and he pulled out quickly and you wrapped your hand around his length and he thrust into your perfectly tight grip a few times until his breath hitched and he groaned when you felt the first spurt of his hot, milky cum right over your pubic bone. He moaned lowly as he started to unload all over your already sticky pussy. You guided him between your swollen and sensitive folds, letting him thrust against you as he spilled all over your swollen pussy with his cum. His body was trembling as you rubbed at his bicep until he minimized the space between you and caught your lips with his. “Mmm…fuck…” he hummed and you smiled

“Good?”

“So fucking good.” He panted breathily and you pecked his lips quickly. “Was it good for you?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, H. More than.” You assured and he smiled before kissing you again.

“Good, love.” He whispered before resting his weight on one elbow before kissing you deep and slow. He took his time tasting you properly and only pulled away when you both needed to breathe, “Jut as things should’ve been from the start.” He hummed and you kissed his lips quickly.

“We’re here now, yeah?” You asked quietly and he smiled and nodded.

“Yeah.” He hummed, “So, does this mean we can give us a real chance?” He asked as his fingers found yours and you nodded and smiled as he bought your hand up to his mouth and kissed it.

“I’d love that, Harry.” You assured him and he smiled brightly at you.

“Thank you for giving me another chance after the stunt I pulled before.” He said more seriously.

“I like you too much not to.” You said with a small smile and he smiled and kissed you once more. 

“Well I assure you, there’s far more making up I plan on doing…” He smirked and you bit your lip excitedly, “Just you wait.”

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[g1rld1ary]

you never disappointed me ; luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

part one part two part three part four

➻ synopsis: charles beckendorf wants to go out with silena beauregard more than anything. one problem: she's not allowed to date until her shrewish older sister does, so he and percy come up with a plan. (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 2783

➻ warnings: swearing ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader

➻ this'll be a few chapter so this is p1!!!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Charles Beckendorf arrived at Camp Half-Blood when he was fifteen years old. It was a wonder he’d lasted out in the mortal world so long with his significant stature, height enough to attract monsters, but Percy — his tour guide — guessed it was probably his more reserved nature which had kept him under the radar.

“Thank God it’s you showing me around,” Was one of the first things he’d said, “When you start things like this it’s usually all the kiss-asses that greet me.” With six schools under his belt, Percy knew what he meant all too well.

“Nah man, we’re chill. And if we get this done quick then you can meet my friends, we know how to have the real fun here.”

And so they embarked on their tour, Percy dutifully pointing out all the most important places around camp. First was the Dining Pavilion, where they met Grover as he chewed on some of the tin-can remains of lunch. Then came Thalia’s Tree, under which Annabeth was drawing out a map that Charles didn’t understand in the slightest but Percy explained was a strategy for capture the flag. After that they walked past the sword fighting arena, where they caught a glimpse of Luke in the middle of a fierce duel. They both passed quickly, and Charles got the distinct impression that you weren’t supposed to interrupt Luke when he was fighting.

As the two got to the lake, Percy explaining it was where most people hung out when they had the time, Charles faltered in his steps. Percy looked back to where he was frozen and followed his sightline to Silena Beauregard and rolled his eyes.

“Who is that?” He breathed.

“Don’t even bother, bro,” Percy replied. “She’s off limits. It’s a well known fact that the Beauregard sisters aren’t allowed to date — they’re only here over the summers and their dad is crazy strict about it for some reason.”

“But she’s so—”

“Self-centred? Shallow? Silena is all looks no substance, dude. You can do better.” Percy ushered him away but Charles was still daydreaming about the beautiful Aphrodite girl.

The tour was just finishing up by the Climbing Wall when they first saw you. You held the camp record for it, and so had been delegated the responsibility of teaching the younger kids. Today though you’d had to rescue a cocky bastard from getting obliterated by lava, singeing the fabric of your camp shirt all over your left shoulder, and you were not in a good mood.

Just wanting to get back to your cabin for a change of clothes and some ambrosia, you were certainly not in the state of mind to stop and chat with a new camper. So when Percy and Charles came along blocking the whole fucking path, you didn’t hesitate to yell “Move!” Pushing past them in a huff. You wouldn’t usually be so rude, but you were pretty sure your shirt was fusing into your skin which was so not what you needed. Plus, they were in the way. Beckendorf’s bicep was warm from where you’d shoulder-checked him with your injury.

“That’s your dream girl’s older sister,” Percy snorted, used to your disagreeable personality.

“That’s Silena’s sister?” Charles asked incredulously, “But she’s…”

“A shrew? Yeah. I’d watch out for her, and kiss your dreams of going out with Silena goodbye. Now c’mon, I’ll show you to your cabin.” Charles followed mindlessly, still thinking about the two Beauregard sisters.

When people thought of you, the consensus was pretty much this: Silena Beauregard’s older sister, and the most heinous bitch at Camp Half-Blood, a title you were extremely proud of. Whilst you really didn’t think you were that bad — in fact, you considered your actions quite reasonable — younger campers cowered away when you marched through camp and the older ones rolled their eyes when you spoke. Just the way you liked it. It wasn’t exactly unusual, camp had all sorts of kids living there, not everyone was going to get along, but it was pretty unexpected for you as a daughter of Aphrodite.

You didn’t get along with most of your siblings, despite all your efforts as one of the elder campers. You thought it was ridiculous that they wouldn’t participate in camp activities, regardless of the reason. What good was having all that beauty if it was wiped off the face of the earth by a monster? There were a hundred rumours flying about to explain you and your attitude, the most popular being that you were the secret lovechild of Aphrodite and Ares, which explained your affinity for fighting and permanent bitch face. You knew better. For one you shared too many of your dad’s traits not to be his child. Plus, Aphrodite had a long history of being associated with war in Ancient Greece which everyone at camp just conveniently forgot in favour of writing her children off as useless and vain. You hated it, and you refused to be who they wanted.

Even your favourite sibling was the polar opposite to you. Silena was a few years younger than you, and by all accounts was the model of a perfect Aphrodite child. Gorgeous, of course, and usually kind and patient. In your opinion, she was kind of annoying and self-absorbed, but you chose to believe she meant well so you could keep tolerating her. You didn’t know how the only two blood-related siblings in your cabin could be so different from one another, but it had been that way since you were fourteen and she was twelve.

You had made it back to your cabin, and your shoulder was all bandaged up after your shower. You were just flipping through The Bell Jar, your latest novel, when Silena came stomping into the cabin, waving a letter frantically through the air. You could assume what it was about.

“This is so unfair!” Silena whined, “Daddy doesn’t even know Ethan!” Ethan was the new boy Silena had been obsessed with recently, writing incessantly to your father in an attempt to get him to take back the no dating rule.

“What, can’t go swap spit with the vermin of the earth?” You exaggerated a pout. She sneered at you in the mirror.

“Worse. Now he’s saying I can’t date until you do, so now I’m going to die a stupid old virgin because of you!” You rolled your eyes and sighed.

“Have you ever considered there’s more to life than finding a boyfriend? Or, big shock I know, maybe I’m just not interested in the sweaty, uninspired pigs that are supplied here?”

“You suck!” She huffed, turning on a kitten heel and barging out of the cabin.

“You suck!” You mocked, turning back to your book. You knew Silena was really pissed at you for being so stubborn, but you hated the thought of changing your opinions over a man of all things.

Silena, in her frustration, was wandering around Camp Half-Blood to let off some steam. Charles, fresh from a kayaking lesson, spotted her across the beach and scrambled to catch up to her. Remembering what Percy told him about her not participating in many of the camp’s activities, he came up with the idea to offer his help to finish a project in the forges to get Chiron off her back. Silena seemed surprised but happy enough to agree, and Charles was ecstatic.

“She’s agreed to go to the forges with me!” He told Percy excitedly, and Percy raised an eyebrow.

“Do you even know how to weld?”

“Well, no, but I will!” As much as Percy liked the new kid, he was definitely a handful.

Charles’ first session with Silena didn’t go exactly as he’d hoped. She showed up already looking bored, and not keen to start off with a simple sword as he’d proposed. Soon he gave up with any welding, choosing instead to try and get her know better.

“If you’re not really into this we could try something else? I saw someone welding some metal flowers, you know, for like a date?” That caught her attention.

“Are you asking me on a date?” At his shy nod Silena couldn’t contain her slight laugh. “That is so cute! What’s your name again?” Charles told her quietly.

“Well, my Dad’s just changed our family rule — I can date when my sister does.”

“That’s great! So all you’ve gotta do is find someone who’ll date her!”

“One problem, Cameron-”

“Charles.”

“My sister is, like, totally antisocial?”

“Yeah, but people jump out of planes and stuff all the time! It could be, like, extreme dating!”

They both looked across the forge where you were working, fixing up your favourite sword after an Ares kid had done quite a number on it. You had on both your signature outfit and expression — long, practical jorts with your camp shirt tied in a knot and a dangerous bitch face.

“The oversized look is out, Beauregard, didn’t you read last month’s Vogue?” Ethan was hovering around you, trying his hardest to get a rise out of you in front of his friends.

“Run along, dickwad.” You refused to blow up at him, knowing it would only be used to make you look hysterical and unbalanced later. Plus, Ethan would get bored sooner or later and find someone else to taunt.

As Charles recounted this story to Percy later that night at the bonfire, all Percy could do was groan.

“Charles — Charlie — I really wanna like you, man, but this is probably the most stupid thing you could have done. I know they’re hot, but it’s not even worth getting involved with one Beauregard sister, and you’ve just gotten yourself tangled with both — and not in the way that most guys dream about.” Charles flushed at the innuendo.

“I think you’re wrong about Silena, I think she’s worth it. I just have to figure out how I can set her sister up with another guy.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Percy laughed, hitting Charles’ knee twice before turning away to talk to Annabeth. Charles spent the rest of the night trying to hatch a plan.

Early the next morning he got Percy on board, albeit very reluctantly. Percy brought Charles over to every single guy he could think of in your age range, begging them to take you out. The responses varied from a nervous shake of the head to Travis Stoll laughing in both boys’ faces.

“Why would I go looking for a kick in the balls?” He asked, still wheezing from his initial outburst.

They found themselves once again at the bonfire, both disheartened. Percy at having wasted a day all for this new guy he barely knew, and Charles that he was no closer to getting a date with Silena. Finally, somewhat eager to get this distraction over with, Percy came up with an idea.

“What about you just pay someone to go out with her?” He asked, and Charles considered the idea for a minute, it wasn’t half bad.

“I have literally no money,” He settled on finally, and Percy rolled his eyes.

“So you get someone else to do it for you,” He suggested, and Annabeth joined the conversation with suspicious interest.

“Like a backer?” She asked, at Percy’s nod she bit her lip, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, guys, it seems like it could really backfire on you. I mean, what if she finds out? I heard she once tied a camper to the lava wall just for looking at her wrong.”

“She won’t find out! I mean she only has to date so Silena can, it doesn’t have to be a long term thing. She goes on enough dates for it to qualify, then they break up while it’s still casual and I can go out with Silena!” Charles explained excitedly, but Annabeth still looked skeptical.

“Plus, if we have a backer, none of the blame will go to my man Charlie here,” Percy added helpfully, which swayed Annabeth a little.

“Okay, well be careful,” She said, leaving for the dining hall to be distanced from the plot.

Percy thought the answer to who the backer would be was pretty obvious. Whilst most of the boys at Camp Half-Blood wanted to sleep with Silena, Ethan White was both rich and desperate enough to agree to it. Plus when Percy Jackson was telling you you’d look great with a girl, you generally listened.

All that was left was to find someone to set you up with. The boys used the bonfire to scope out their options, but it wasn’t looking good. For one, you didn’t even show up to bonfires if you could help it, and it was anyone’s guess what you did instead. Rumours said blood sacrifices but Percy was almost completely sure that was a lie. Truthfully you were sitting up on the roof of the Aphrodite cabin, enjoying the peace and quiet of the camp when no one else was around.

They were about to give up, Percy trying to find the right words to let Beckendorf down easy, when they saw Luke. Luke, with his brooding eyes and his cigarette, sitting on his own at the bonfire with headphones connected to a mortal mp3 player. Luke, who had never quite been the same since he returned from his quest — rumours swirling about the horrors he’d faced that he refused to speak on.

“I think we’ve found our man.”

It was easy to convince Ethan to get on board, he was so overconfident in himself and his looks he would never suspect that Percy or Beckendorf had any ulterior motives. It was equally enjoyable to watch Ethan try and approach Luke to get the plan in motion. Percy and Beckendorf were sitting with Percy’s friends on the beach the very first time Ethan spoke to Luke. He was all macho confidence, still trying to play the tough guy. Luke looked up at him from his place sitting on a rock, barely moving his head to give him any attention. The moment of eye contact meant Ethan knew Luke had seen him speaking, and the abrupt walking away communicated his absolute lack of interest. It took a gargantuan effort from Percy not to burst out laughing then and there.

The second conversation went a bit smoother. Ethan had a metaphorical tail between his legs, temporarily giving up his ego to be the smaller person in the conversation. That got Luke’s attention, having known Ethan and his antics for years at that point. And then Ethan explained his plan. Luke couldn’t contain his laughter — a sound Camp Half-Blood was rarely graced with anymore.

“Yeah sure, Sparky,” He laughed, almost wheezing in an uncharacteristic show of emotion.

“Look,” Ethan stressed, “I can’t take out Silena until her sister starts dating — their Dad is super strict and has this rule—”

“Touching story, not my problem.” Luke moved to put his earbud back in when Ethan stopped him.

“Could it be your problem if I provided generous compensation?” Luke had forgotten Ethan’s mother was filthy rich. He looked him dead in the eye.

“You’re going to pay me to take out some chick? How much?” He asked, entirely disbelieving.

“Twenty bucks” They both looked down at you on the volleyball courts, spiking a ball into a girl’s stomach with so much force she keeled over on the ground. You had the decency to look mildly apologetic while the opposing team glared at you.

“Fine. Thirty.”

“Let’s see,” Luke smiled something devious. “If I’m taking her out it means leaving camp. That’s a lot of risk I’m pursuing for you, plus the costs of taking to her somewhere — the movies maybe. And you know inflation lately, let’s say seventy-five bucks.”

“This isn’t a negotiation, burnout.”

“Fifty bucks and we’ve got a deal, Fabio,” Luke countered, knowing he had the upper hand. He had nothing to lose. Reluctantly, Ethan forked out a fifty. All that was left was for Luke to get you to go out with him, how hard could that be?

[callsign-dexter]

Love's Wake-Up Call

Request: GREAT NEWS !! Sooo then I'll be the first sending in an idea hehe 🤭🫣 as we all love some angsty shit, I'll think about where she's also a trainer and Tim and her are crushing but he ignores it as he wants to stay professional. But during one dangerous call, she gets there for support and saves his life by taking some bullets and Tim forgets everything professional immediately pleading her to not die until they have a at least one date. Later at the hospital he's there when you wake up and after he lectured you, he finally asks you out?

Pairings: Tim Bradford x Police Officer!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff

Masterlist

For as long as you could remember you had been in love with Tim Bradford. You two went through the academy together and became great friends. With your friendship came along a major crush on your male friend. Tim would never admit it but he was in love with you too but he pushed his feelings down whereas you tried to hide yours but it was too much so they stayed surfaced. Everyone knew that you both had a crush on each other but Tim was just too stubborn to say anything and you didn't want to get rejected. 

Your alarm is what woke you up early in the morning. You sighed and rolled over and turned it off. You laid there for a few minutes until you got the energy to get up. When you did you went into the bathroom and got in the shower and then brushed your teeth getting ready to start the long shift with Tim. Like him you were a training officer and you loved it and wouldn’t change it for the world. You loved the trainee that you had. He was smart, resourceful, loves the law and follows it, and is easy to get along with. His name was Luke Winters and he has a boyfriend but he is planning on proposing to him they also had a kid together.

When you had finished getting ready and packed a bag with extra clothing you set out to the kitchen and made yourself a cup of coffee, after it was done you put it in a thermos and you were off. You walked out of the house and turned back to lock the door. When you made sure it was locked and secure you walked over to your royal blue Jeep and got in and started it. Your Bluetooth automatically connected to the car and started playing music. You smiled and started your journey to work.

It didn’t take long for you to get to work and when you pulled in you saw Tim’s truck and parked next to it smiling. He must’ve just gotten there because he was getting out while you parked. You quickly killed the engine and got out as well. You grabbed your bag “Good morning.” Tim said as you rounded the front of your Jeep.

“Good morning, Tim.” You said and he smiled and you two walked towards the station. 

“Have a good night?” He asked and you nodded.

“I did nothing special. How about you?” You asked

“It was ok. Have any plans for when you’re off?” He asked and you thought about saying something that involved him but refrained from doing so.

“Nope.” You said and he nodded and then he was opening the door for you and you smiled and walked in. 

“Good morning, Officer Bradford and Officer Y/L/N.” The person at the front desk said and you smiled at her and then walked through the doors towards the locker rooms. 

“You know I was thinking after shift maybe we could go and grab something to eat.” You said nervously and he didn’t reply but, on the inside, he was excited but he was at work so he had to keep it professional.

“We’ll see.” He said and then went into the locker room to change leaving you standing there and you frowned but did the same thing. You were quick to change and head into the briefing room. You saw him sitting there talking with Angela and Talia smiling and laughing and that made you smile but it quickly faded when he looked over at you. You turned your gaze away from him and quickly went and sat down next to Angela instead of next to him and he frowned but you didn’t see it. Sergeant Grey walked in and the day began. The Rookies quickly got with their TOs and then everyone was going to get their bags and guns. 

“Are you ok?” Luke asked and you looked at him.

“Yea, I’m ok. Just didn’t have the best night last night.” You said and he nodded.

“It wasn’t the best for us either. Cody got sick in the middle of the night and it was just a huge mess.” Luke said

“Is he ok? Is Dakota staying with him?” You asked as he loaded the bags and guns into the trunk and then shutting it and then getting into the shop.

“Yes, he has a doctor’s appointment today. So, I hope it is alright that I’m on my phone.” He said looking a little nervous.

“Don’t worry about it. I understand. Family comes first.” You said and he smiled.

“Thank you.” He said and you smiled and nodded at him. 

The morning was nothing interesting or eventful but you got all the calls that you needed Luke to get to get him to pass his training. Before you knew it, it was lunch time. You pulled into the usual hang out place for you guys. You had been coming here for as long as you could remember. You pulled up and killed the engine and then the both of you were getting out. “Hey, Officer Y/L/N!” Nolan said and you smiled.

“Good afternoon, Officer Nolan.” You said “You guys having a good morning?” You asked, he nodded.

“Yea, nothing too interesting. How about you both?” He asked and you nodded.

“Pretty much the same thing.” You said and then you all ordered and waited for your food and it was out in no time. You all grabbed yours and headed to the two tables that everyone sat at. 

“Hey guys.” You said and they smiled. A collective of ‘hey’s were said.

“Hello Officer Y/L/N.” Tim said being professional and you smiled but a pang of sadness went through you but you didn’t let it show. Lunch was uneventful and nothing interesting was talked about. You really just wanted to get back out on the road. You weren’t really paying attention to the topic or what was being said just enough to put your input in. Your mind was mostly on Tim and how you would love to be with him but he doesn’t seem to act like he cares or likes you. A call came in and you answered it.

“Officer Winters! Let’s go!” You yelled out and Luke was up and out of this seat and heading towards you and the shop. You threw away your trash and so did he. What you didn’t see was Tim looking at you with eyes that only screamed love but you didn’t even give him a glance as you pulled out of the parking lot. 

“You love her, don’t you?” Angela asked with a smirk and he looked over at her.

“No.” He said with a higher pitched voice.

“Oh, you do! You can’t deny it.” Talia said and he rolled his eyes and then a call came in and he was quick to jump to it and calling Lucy over and they were off.

“He is so in love.” Angela said and the girls nodded.

“Yes, he is and so is she.” Talia said and they nodded.

“We knew she was in love because she doesn’t hold it back and because we have a discussion about it. He just needs to come to his senses.” Angela said and Talia nodded.

“I have a feeling he will get that chance soon.” Talia said boy did they know she was right.

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While your call was quick and simple you were now driving around looking for anything suspicious. Luke was multitasking looking out and on his phone. “Everything ok?” You asked him and he looked up sheepishly nodded.

“Cody has the flu and a double ear infection.” Luke said

“Oh no. Do you need to go home?” You asked and he shook his head.

“No, I asked Dakota and he said no and to finish up the shift.” He said and you smiled and nodded. It was silent for a few more minutes until the radio went off and it was Tim’s voice.

“7-Adam-19 requesting back up.” Tim said and you nodded at Luke who was looking at you.

“7- Adam-20 responding.” Luke said and you were off to their location. Your lights and sirens were flashing and that helped clear the road and you were there in no time. When Tim heard that you were responding his heart sank but he didn’t let it show he was keeping it professional. 

You got there and quickly parked, shutting the sirens off and both you and Luke were jumping out and heading over to Lucy and Tim. “What’s going on?” You asked, trying not to show how happy you were with standing so close to him.

“We got here about 20 minutes ago due to a call of disturbance and at first everything was going smoothly and then he started to get agitated. He has not barricaded himself in his house and won’t come out.” Lucy said and you nodded.

“What is the plan?” You asked

“Initially we were going to just storm in there but he pulled out a gun and started to become a danger to himself and others around him.” Tim said and you nodded. 

“Have you tried to talk to him again?” You asked and he shook his head.

“No, we figured he wouldn’t want to talk to us.” Lucy said and you nodded.

“Ok, we’ll go try. Maybe a new set of people will help.” You said and they nodded. You and Luke started your way up to the house. You and Luke got up to the door and knocked on the door “Mr. Duncan, I’m Officer Y/L/N and I have Officer Winters with me. Would you please come to the door and we can talk about this?” You asked.

“Are the other officers gone?” He asked and you looked at Luke and he nodded.

“Yes, they are.” You said, you hated lying but it was the only way to hopefully get him out. There was a sound of shouting and things being knocked over and then the door started to unlock and it slowly opened and you took a quick look back at Tim and saw him smile but it was small. “Good afternoon, Mr. Duncan. We were called here for a disturbance.” You said he walked outside “Can you come out further onto the grass?” You asked and he hesitated but nodded and did so. 

“I don't know why you guys are here. I wasn’t even playing my music too loud and the screaming was from a movie.” He said and you nodded trying to keep him on his good side. Nothing seemed dangerous but you knew that could quickly change in a heartbeat. You looked him over and then noticed his bloody knuckles.

“Sir, are you ok? Is someone in the house with you?” You asked and he shook his head getting defensive.

“No, it’s just me. I got mad earlier and punched the wall.” He said but you noticed the scratches on his neck. Just then a woman came running out.

“Help me! He has kidnapped me!” She yelled and before she could get to you, he had grabbed her and brought out a gun putting it at her head. You drew your gun and so did the others. He slowly backed up and that gave you and Luke time to back up until you were with Tim and Lucy. 

“What is your plan?” You asked

“Call for back-up.” Tim said and you nodded and then started for your radio in your car but the sound of a gun went off and you froze. You looked up and saw that Duncan had turned to point the gun at the 4 of you. 

“Don’t you move!” He shouted and you brought your hands up in surrender. You needed to get to the radio. You slowly started to back up again and he sent a warning shot your way but it had grazed you and you hissed and that got Tim’s attention. “Don’t move!” He yelled out.

Tim looked over at you and noticed the blood “Are you ok?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yea, I’m good.” You said and then something clicked in Duncan’s mind and he started to shoot off bullets and that caused you to fire back. Gunfire was becoming more frequent and that was concerning. Shop doors were opened and everyone was ducking behind them. “Are you good?” You asked Tim and he didn’t respond but he stood up and shot off a shot and then ducked down again.

“Yea, I’m good. I’m gonna move to get better access.” He said and you nodded.

“I’m going with you.” You said and he looked at you.

“No.” He said and you looked at him.

“This is not up for discussion.” You said and he groaned but started the move. You kept an eye on Duncan and as you started to move, he saw you and aimed his gun at you and Tim, he was right in the crossfire and you couldn’t have him getting shot. “Tim!” You shouted when you saw Duncan pull the trigger and pushed him out of the way. The bullet connected with your neck and then another shot popped off and it had entered your chest right below your ribcage and you froze. Gun fire ceased and Duncan was taken down and the woman was saved but now you were standing there shell shocked. Tim had gotten up and his eyes widened. 

“Y/N.” He said, stunned and you looked over at him and then your knees buckled. “No no no no.” He said and then moved to grab you as you slowly fell.

“Tim-” You started but he cut you off. 

“Don’t try to talk. Save your energy.” He said and you coughed and some blood came up with it. He reached for his radio with his bloody hand “Shots fired; shots fired. Officer down, I repeat officer down.” He said into his radio. You felt your eyes start to close and he noticed this and put his hand back on the bleeding shoulder wound. “Hey hey keep those eyes open. You can’t die. I still need to take you on our first date.” He said and that would’ve surprised you if you weren’t losing blood and fighting for your life. Lucy and Luke had arrested the man and saved the woman.

 By now more units were arriving and that meant Angela, Jackson, Taila, and Nolan were showing up. They rushed over to you and Tim “What can we do?” Nolan asked.

“Make room for the ambulance and get them over her fast.” Tim said looking at him, he nodded and was off and looked back down at you and noticed your eyes were closed. “Hey, Y/N. Open those eyes for me.” He said and got no response. He could feel your pulse on your neck but it was slow and that worried him. “You can’t do this to me.” He said. 

The ambulance was quick to get there and made their way over to you and got you up on the stretcher and moved to the ambulance. He moved with them and got in and nobody argued with him. Once everyone was in, they were off heading to the hospital. He was beating himself up for hiding his feelings for you and not making them known earlier because now he was here with you as you were fighting for your life. They arrived at the hospital in no time and they were rushing you back and away from him. He went and sat in the waiting room to wait. He doesn’t know how long he was sitting there but Angela, Jackson, Talia, Nolan, Luke, and Lucy all showed up. “Any news?” Lucy asked and he shook his head.

“No.” He said looking down at his bloodied hands, bloodied with your blood.

“How long since they took her back?” Luke worried for his TO and his friend.

“30 minutes.” He said and they nodded and everyone sat down waiting for good news. 14 minutes and Grace was coming out with bloodied scrubs and Tim was the first one up. “How is she?” He asked not to hold back his emotions.

“She’s pulled through.” She said and everyone sighed in relief “However we did lose her 2 times on the operating table but got her back each time. I want to keep her under for a few days to let her rest.” She said and everyone nodded.

“Are we able to see her?” Angela asked and she nodded.

“Right this way.” She said and they followed her. When they got to your room, they could see all the wires connected to you and that you were sleeping. “Anything happens, let me know.” She said and they nodded. Tim was the first one to move and sit down next to you. Wade had also shown up at some point and walked into the room and his heart sank, you were like a daughter to him and you actually cared for him, he hated seeing you like this. Nothing was said between them and that was ok. Although the others wanted to stay, they knew they couldn’t and they went back to work but Tim protested and wasn’t going to leave your side. Wade wasn’t going to fight him on it so he allowed him to stay. When their shift was over Luke had come back with your bag and Tim’s bag. Tim thanked him and they sat there talking for a little bit about you and then Luke had to leave. 

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Tim hated waiting. You shouldn’t be lying there connected to all the wires fighting for your life. If he hadn’t moved then you wouldn’t be in this situation and he hated that. It was leading into day 6 and you had yet to wake up and it was driving him mad. He barely moved, he only moved when he needed to eat, sometimes he didn’t do that unless it was someone bringing it to him, and he only took a shower at the hospital and brushed his teeth there. Grace and Gio were in and out checking on you and your wounds, they had taken you off sedation and now it was up to you. 

10 days and you were still asleep and it was driving Tim mad. He kept thinking about that it was all his fault for moving and not making you stay. He was thinking about how stupid it was that he didn’t tell you how he really felt about you. Really, he was just beating himself up. He needed you to wake up so he could tell you that he was in love with you and that he wanted to be with you and only you.

It was during the night and he was sleeping when you started to wake up. You first opened your eyes and the room was darkened so it was easy on your eyes and then you felt a warm hand in yours and you looked down and saw it was connected to the man you loved, then the pain hit and you tensed up. Tim must’ve felt you tense up because he was jolting awake and scooting his chair back. “Y/N.” He said your name and you were breathing through the pain. After it passed you opened your eyes and looked at him.

“Tim?” You said in a hoarse voice “What?” You said but couldn’t get anything else out.

“You were shot covering me. What were you thinking? I told you not and yet you still did. Do you know how stupid that was? You were shot twice and almost didn’t make it. You know how heartbroken I would’ve been if you hadn’t had made it? I was kneeling there watching the love of my life slowly slipping away from me. You’ve been here for 2 weeks and those 2 weeks have been so painful and nerve wracking for me. If it weren’t for the others bringing food or had brought our bags I wouldn’t have moved from that spot. I was so scared that you weren’t going to make it.” He said coming to the end of his speech. You just stared at him and a smile crept up to your face. “What are you smiling about?” He asked, trying to stay mad.

“You love me?” You asked and he rolled his eyes.

“All of that lecturing and that is what you take away from this?” He asked but an actual smile appeared on his face. “Yes, I love you. As soon as you're out of here and feeling up to it, would you like to go on a date with me?” He asked.

“Yes, I would love that.” You said and smiled and leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“Good.” He said when he pulled away “I’m going to go and get Grace and Gio.” He added and started to get up.

“Oh, and Tim?” You said and that had him stopping and looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “I love you too.” You said and that made him smile and walk back over and kissed you on the lips and you returned it. When he pulled away, he brought his hand gently up to your face and caressed it.

“I love you too. I’ll be right back.” He said and you nodded and he left. You brought your hand up to where his hand was and smiled. You both loved each other and this was going to be a wonderful start to a wonderful relationship and you couldn’t wait and neither could Tim. All it took was for you to get shot, of course that sucked but you got the man you loved and you couldn’t be any happier. 

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