#my friend and i just realised in an alternate universe we would still meet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

purerae · 1 year ago

Note

Hii! I love your work!! Could you do a halloween party imagine with any of your characters? or all of them meeting our poor y/n, it'd make a cool crossover

Free form however you like!!!

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YANDERE!HAREM X FEM READER

HALLOWEEN PARTY // AU IMAGINE.

warnings ;; mostly crack, yandere behaviour, male yandere(s), female yandere, mentions of drinking, demon summoning (silas), mentions of blackmail (none to Y/N), alternate universe, not canon to anyone's plot.

a/n ;; Hi Anon! I know halloween is over but this is such a good idea i couldn’t miss out on it!! By the way, in each one of the yandere stories, Y/N has a slightly different personality. So I wasn't sure whether you wanted me to do multiple Y/N’s or just one. So I decided to combine the personalities into one. Good luck<3 (please let me know if there are any mistakes.)

CLICK HERE FOR MY MASTERLIST (intro to all the yanderes)

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Hopeless. You felt hopeless as your left arm was dragged around like a piece of meat by the girl no one swore to mess with

“Come on babe~! Wear the angel wings, we have to be matching!” Reina grits her teeth as she attempts to place the wings onto your unwilling back. The fire headed girl gives up with a scoff in her throat before walking over to your mirror and reapplying her dark red lipstick, adjusting the horns that perfectly matched with her crimson wavy hair.

How did she even get into Y/Ns house in the first place?

You remember pretty clearly. Today is the 31st of October. You were well aware that it was halloween and perfectly content with staying inside your humble abode. You’d buy a bunch of bulk cheap candy and scarf it down whilst watching some classic horror movies. Not enough to scare you, but to make you physically cringe.

That was the plan, Perfect right? There would be nothing to stop you from having a peaceful night of binge watching shitty films.

Apart from the three vastly different individuals who were all pining over you. Though they were complete opposites, they all had a way grinding your gears and irritating you to no end.

Reina, the delinquent who made your life as the school president 10x worse. She’d constantly hang around you during lunch and break, surrounded by her delinquent friends who’d make jokes you wouldn’t get but would laugh in fear of getting made fun of. Not to mention the lessons you’d have to miss in order to supervise her during the detentions she had purposely got. You think you spend more time with her then you spend eating the gross lunch your school provides.

Kieran, the playboy who suddenly switched up his entire role once he realised you weren’t interested in him like the others were. God, if only you pretended like you were. Maybe that would’ve stopped him from bothering you in all your science classes with his weird sexual jokes or flirty overbearing personality. Yeah he was a bit funny and maybe he sometimes made your day with his stupid jokes but that came crashing down once he would say his tenth pick up line to you all in one lesson.

And then there’s Alex, the jock who’s the captain of the football team, a tad bit stupid but still had the personality of the literal sun, which made him the most tolerable but still pretty overwhelming for your average dream life. He was the last one to pop up in your weird harem, he stuck around you like a lost puppy once he realised you didn’t like his team. “I’ll make sure you like me, no matter what!” — were his exact words.

These individuals had a very high reputation in school, most people liked them and often idolised them. So, why were they all vying for your attention? People would go to great lengths to be in your shoes, yet all you desired was to lead an ordinary student's life.

Your internal monologue was abruptly interrupted by the ringing of your phone, and you didn't even have a moment to guess who might be calling before the sound reached your ears (You would've had two guesses). -- In response, Reina let out an exasperated groan and struts over to you.

She confidently picks up your phone and shuts it off before snapping her fingers in your face.

“How have you still not put the wings on.. god what would you do without me!” If you didn’t know any better, from the tone of her voice you’d think she was annoyed. But in reality you noticed the glint in her eyes. She was genuinely pleased that she had gotten to help you. Happy that you had to ‘rely’ on her.

“Probably live a peaceful life” You murmur under your breath, not realising the close proximity of you two until she snaps her sharp eyes to your tired gaze.

"Excuse me?" The green-eyed girl arched her eyebrows, her lips forming a grimace of annoyance.

“I said I would probably live a very sad life.” You quickly defer, letting out a sigh of relief once she relaxes her eyebrows and shows you a soft smirk.

Reina grabs her bag and sprays perfume onto her body, walking over to your bedroom door before abruptly stopping, throwing her arms up. “Come on then! We can't be too fashionably late~” You curse whoever invented halloween parties, and trail behind her.

Just ten minutes into the party, and you were already contemplating grabbing that cowboy-clad stranger’s prop gun and pretending to shoot yourself with it. Music boomed against your ears, drawing out any coherent thought as the smoke from Reinas cigarette mingles in the air. It was as if your personal space ceased to exist, with the red haired girl's body pressing against yours, her presence enveloping you. The sensation became overwhelming, the close proximity sent shivers down your spine. You had no ability to escape, seeing as the delinquent had her friends form a tight circle around you both, acting as protective guards you didn't need or want. There was no room to escape for you, too intimidated to say a word.

“Hey Y/N!! Is that you?!” A loud voice shouted amidst the music, crowd and smoke. Reinas whole friend group snaps towards the noise, seeing who dared to interrupt the leader with her ‘beloved’. Despite Alex being faced with gnarly stares, all he could see was his cutie dressed like an angel. He settles his drink down on a nearby table, exchanges hurried farewells with his football teammates, and rushes his way towards you.

The tall friendly giant had no struggles breaking the circle you were trapped in. It was like the sun beaming past a bunch of angsty rain clouds, two things you usually dreaded. But in that moment, you found yourself silently praising the towering, 6 '6 human puppy as he enveloped you in a massive bear hug.

As he released you, his strong arms remained on your shoulders, and he beamed at you with eyes that formed crescent moon shapes.

He stuttered an apology for the sudden physical contact before staring at you up and down with his doe like eyes and a massive grin. “Wow…you look stunning, like a true angel. You’re my angel!” He giggles proudly because of the cheesy line he made. The jock completely disregards his earlier apology as he wraps you in another tight hug. You murmur a ‘thanks’ and lightly tap his back in return, your lips thinning with a hint of awkwardness as you look around and notice Reina's friend group staring at the two of you as though you'd just committed a crime. Alex's firm grip gradually loosens as he comes to a realisation, and he reluctantly lets you go, you notice his boyish grin turned into a pout. “I invited you to this party, I bought a whole matching outfit and everything! You told me you couldn't come!” The brown eyed male whines , his brows furrowing as his beady eyes bore into your soul. During this moment, you couldn't help scrutinise his Halloween costume.

‘Did he seriously just throw on his jersey with some fake blood around his neck..’ you pondered silently, shooting him a disapproving stare due to the minimal effort he had put into his outfit

Your initial expression of curiosity transformed into one of slight disgust when you realised that the intended matching costume was going to be ‘the jock and his cheerleader’

‘How original’ You thought sarcastically.

For the second time this night, your thoughts were interrupted, but this time it wasn't a ringing phone. It was Alex’s voice, laced with sadness whining in your ear. He pouts as he gazes down at you, gently poking your halo headband, waiting for your response.

“Basically what happ-”

Before you could even begin to explain that you had no intention of attending the party, regardless of who insisted, not until the delinquent showed up at your doorstep and mildly threatened you, your words were cut short. The moment was disrupted as she forcibly pushed the sulky jock away from you.

Despite her noticeable lack of height compared to the towering jock, Reinas attitude definitely made up for it.

‘Speak of the devil..metaphorically and quite literally.’ You snort at your own joke, before quickly composing yourself and directing your attention to the scene unfolding in front of you.

Alex and Reina, two people who couldn't be any more different but they were both madly in love with you. In school, you had always managed to avoid confrontations involving the both of them, but it appeared luck wasn't on your side tonight.

“Who do you think you are, barging into this conversation where no one invited you? Don't you have dumb shit to attend to? Like shotgunning a dozen beers?” the delinquent spoke with a withering glare, she grabbed your arm and forcefully pulled you away from him. The crowded party left little room to manoeuvre, so she practically made you turn your back on him to ensure you were separated.

Unfortunately for her, that allowed the charismatic loveable jock to shed his facade, and shoot her an uncharacteristically intense gaze. His eyes grew dark and his typically cheerful face contorted into a look of hatred and envy Though it only lasted for a second, anyone who would’ve seen it, the memory would linger in their thoughts for days.

Reina, being unlike anyone else, didn't perceive his gaze as a threat, but rather as a golden retriever attempting to imitate a wolf. She scoffed and protectively grabbed your hand.

"I'm pretty sure forcing Y/N to be surrounded by your..." The jock paused, glancing at each of Reina's friends, carefully choosing not to insult them, not out of fear, but out of respect with his beloved watching. ".. interesting group of friends might not be comfortable for her. Anyways, don't you guys have more fun plans, like commit vandalism?" He delivered with a cheerful tone, tilting his head to the side in a display of ‘adorable’ confusion.

While the male may come across as unintelligent there are some quirks to his character that reveal a different perspective. He possesses a unique knack for framing his words and expressing himself in a manner that radiates positivity.

‘He’s so stupid and oblivious , he doesn’t mean what he says!! He's just asking a question, he means no harm!’ — is what most people think.

But Reina, being a delinquent who often deals with various groups of people, can read him like a book. She knows he’s showing less than what he truly is. What he can truly become. And although she doesn’t give a shit about how he acts around others, she knows he’s interested in her Y/N — and that’s why he needs to stay away from her girl at all costs.

With Reinas anger level rising, she lets out an annoyed grunt before softly pushing you back, The delinquent puts one finger on the jocks chest.

You think for a second that you should probably step in, Not because you want to but because you have no idea who will win. Reina most definitely has a weapon in her bag somewhere and also her group of friends who would kill to protect her surround you three but Alex’s strength and height can cover that. Though from what you know the delinquent is a lot more aggressive than the ‘pacifist’ himbo so he may have a bit of a disadvantage.

Nonetheless, you decide not to intervene and just watch the two idiots fight it out. It's not your issue right? You didn't need any more attention than you already had coming to this party tonight.

As they both stare at each other, Reina opens her mouth to speak but gets cut off by someone tapping her back. One of her friends grabs her arm and she turns a whole 180 degrees, ready to scream at whoever is trying to hold her back. Her eyes are narrowed as she pushes the said friend away from her. “What the fuck is your issue, Thomas?!” You now learned who the guy's name was, Thomas. He was dressed as a pirate and barely flinched when Reina screamed at her. He must've been used to it. All he does is show her phone, and mutters “Look at who's calling you.” Reina’s angry expression turns into one of disbelief as she roughly grabs the phone away from his hands. She looks at Alex one last time with a scoff before she excused herself for a moment and engaged in a heated argument with the caller. You couldn't help but overhear snippets of their exchange — it was clear that Reina was being pressured to leave the party. She hung up, her face etched with reluctance, and then turned to you.

"Babe, I've got to go, I'll still be at the party. " she said, her tone uncharacteristically serious. "Just promise me you'll head home soon, okay?" Your face drops into a frown, though you didn't particularly like the aggressive delinquent, she was one of the only people you knew at this party.. Well except for the man who's staring at you with love struck eyes as of right now. Before you could say anything, Reina left your side, with the group of delinquents who followed. She didn't forget to barge into Alex as she was leaving, though it didn't really affect him — he was too focused on the fact that he was alone with you right now.

The overexcited jock happily grabs your arm and drags you around the whole house of the party, Although he was meant to be giving you a supposed ‘tour’; you noticed he was just staring deeply at your face whilst speaking. You came to the conclusion that he didn't really know what he was doing, he just wanted to impress you.

Amid the swirling costumes and pulsating music, You felt as if you were caught in a whirlwind. Every step you took was accompanied by Alex, who remained steadfastly close. The bulky man stayed close, like an overprotective guard dog, as you both navigated the crowd. Y/N couldn't help but feel suffocated by his constant presence. You desperately needed a moment of peace, a brief escape from his watchful eyes. You decide to ask him for a favour, of course he’d help you.

You finally mustered the courage to speak up, tugging at the edge of Alex's costume and turning to him with a gentle but tired smile. "Hey, Alex, do you mind getting me a drink? I could really use a break."

The jock beamed at you, happy that you trusted him enough to do something for you. ‘That must mean you like him right?! That's how it works!!’

"Of course, Y/N," he replied, his voice warm and reassuring. "I'll be right back with your drink. Just stay right here, okay?"

You nodded gratefully, allowing yourself a sigh of relief as Alex disappeared into the crowd, determined to fulfil your request. The distance that had separated them, albeit briefly, was a welcome change, and you could breathe a little easier.

Although he told you to stay where you were, you began to wander around and observe the revelry around you. People in all manner of costumes danced, drank, and got a little too comfortable with each other.

You let out a yelp as you open a door to a couple grinding on each other. Murmuring a dozen apologies, you leave the room flustered.

As you lose yourself in your thoughts and in the house, you notice a familiar white haired male approaching you, with a wide cheshire grin, Kieran; the host of the party.

The playboy moved through the crowd with an air of confidence and intrigue. He was dressed up as… a prisoner with handcuffs. Or as he’d probably say ‘a sexy prisoner.’ ‘Please don't come here, please don't come here, please don't come here.’ Is the phrase that repeatedly pops up in your head as you try to look at anything but him.

“Boo!” The playboy whispers in your ears as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. He then turns you around and ignores the pout on your face, Inspecting your outfit whilst biting his lips.

“Are you done eye-fucking me?” you sneered, crossing your arms as you tried to move slightly away from the playful male. "Oh man, you would've looked prettier as a princess~" he purred, his voice carrying a flirtatious undertone, his words accompanied by a roguish grin. You were clearly no stranger to Kieran's personality and annoying nickname for you. You roll your eyes and retort "Well I'd rather not deal with the whole 'damsel in distress' shit tonight," a hint of sarcasm laced in your response.

Kieran laughed, unbothered by your resistance. "Ooh but I'd have so much fun saving you princess~!” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "But what made you change your mind coming to my party? I rang your phone like two hours ago and you didn't pick up.” He questions with a raised eyebrow, his sly smirk still displayed on his face before he laughs.

“Missed my face that much huh? Should’ just said! Would've came running to you.”

You couldn't be bothered to talk about how you were forced to come to this stupid party, and also not wanting to mention Reina because for some reason they both had some weird dislikement towards each other. “Just had a change of heart.” You say before turning around and attempting to walk away from Kieran, but again luck wasn't on your side as he grabs your arm and tuts. The dimly lit room with the midst of the crowd, made you focus on the playful man's eyes and you noticed a shine in his eyes whilst staring at you. Before you could tell him to let you go,he whispers closely to you, so close that you could faintly smell the alcohol and mint laced in his breath. “Hey this is my party y’know? Let me show you a more secluded area, perfect for an introvert like you~” He teases as he drags your arm downstairs, and into one of the rooms which he had to twist to unlock. You silently cuss the playboy as you notice his entire group of so-called friends in the room. LED lights which displayed red, multiple couples in the room doing God knows what.

As you both walk further into the room, Kieran, too busy dabbing up people who you never once saw in your life, You notice a pile of unlabeled drugs and drinks on the table that was in the centre of the room. Quickly looking away, you squint your eyes as you try to notice anyone that you’re familiar with. In the corner of the room, there's a girl wearing a red corset with red horns, matching yours. You notice her angry expression as she converses with the two people around her. It was Reina. She notices your gaze and her face slightly softens, As she approaches you, she notices your arm being held by Kieran. Her face returns to the expression of which you first saw in the room. The white haired male doesn't notice the vexed delinquent yet, and he stares at your face in confusion as he notices you watching something, following your line of view he finally sees the girl wearing the devil costume. “Oh hey! Didn't know I invited you to my party?” He says playfully, but you notice the snark in his voice. Reina seems to notice it too as her face contorts into one of jealousy. “You guys know each other?” She questions, her question directed towards mostly you. Your hands begin to sweat as you attempt to stutter out an excuse, but for the second time this night, the living sun in human form interrupts your conversation by walking into the room, except this time he didn't have a happy expression, it was evident that he was sulking.

Your eyes drift to his hands, noticing the drink in his hands that you had specifically asked for. ‘Shit..’ you think to yourself and for the first time you felt bad for the jock. You didn't mean to leave him for that long! It was more of Kierans fault for dragging you away. “I have your drink Y/N…” He says with wide eyes and pursed lips, clearly upset that you had just left him. With an apologetic gaze, you gently take the drink away from his grasp with a thank you, as you look away with a little guilt. “Oh my god, not this freak here again!” Reina scorns,disdain in her face as she stares at both Alex and Kieran, they stare back with disgust. The entire school year, these three constantly hung around you and you still managed to never make them interact whilst you were there, in fear of any of these bold characters causing a scene. But of course, the one day where you especially didn't want to see any of them, they all surround you possessively with jealousy tangled in their eyes. Could this night get any worse? -

It most definitely can. You managed to calm them down and now you're all sat in a circle, with random people you don't know. Kieran sat down next to you on the right, while Alex occupied the seat on the left, and Reina sat across from you, clearly not happy with the seating arrangements.

Whilst the room was filled with chatter, one of Kieran's friends mentioned a board game that you've never heard about that supposedly had the power to ‘summon demons.’

The suggestion hung in the air, Kieran laughed at the idea and laughed harder as he noticed the uncomfortable look in your face.

“Don't worry babe, i'll protect you~” He whispers in your ear, Reina notices you two conversing but can't hear what he told you, Her already green eyes appear even greener as she looks away enviously. The idea was met with hesitance, but with Kieran's playful persuasion, everyone reluctantly agreed to try it.

As the game commenced, Alex clutched onto your arm, his protectiveness reaching new heights. The friendly giants sends you a look of comfort. Reina, on the other hand, grew increasingly annoyed and impatient, wanting to leave this messed up party. Still, she begrudgingly stayed, unwilling to abandon her beloved in this situation.

The group followed the game's instructions, and to their shock, the room filled with an eerie energy. The lights began to flicker and in an instant it turned off, most of the room ran away screaming, not caring about the party anymore. Others began to laugh with interest and waited for what was going to happen next. a sinister figure formed in the centre of their makeshift circle. You freeze as you notice the demon (?), he is fucking terrifying but inspecting him closer the extremely tall thing is quite.. handsome?

A malevolent demon with smouldering eyes and a sinister grin, stood before everyone. Panic coursed through the room, and everyone, including yourself , scrambled to flee. As you attempted to escape, the demon swiftly locked the door, trapping you inside with Alex, Reina, and Kieran.

With a devilish chuckle, The demon introduced himself as Silas. The red faced man turned his attention to you. He took your chin in his hand, his touch chilling to the bone. His nails dug sharply into your skin. "You're prettier than the angels we have where I'm from" he hissed, his voice dripping with lust.

Your heart raced with fear and arousal as you looked into Silas's eyes, a shiver running down your spine. Alex and Reina attempted to interject, their voices laced with fear and anger, but Silas silenced them with a mere flick of his fingers, flooding their minds with endorphins that dulled their resistance. Kieran seemed to be less affected by whatever poison Silas had put out as he grabs Y/Ns arm towards his chest. “I don't know what the hell you are but she's mine, get in line” Kieran jokes, not scared of the situation at all. You send him the dirtiest look possible as Silas laughs mockingly at the playboys statement.

As the night wore on, and the party raged outside, Y/N, Alex, Reina, and Kieran were trapped with this demon who had an interest in you for some strange reason. Well, everyone in this room has some abnormal interest in you and it seems that you're quite literally trapped in a room with people who would do anything for you. Even if that means fighting a demon.

Desperation welled up in your body as you realised the dire situation that you were stuck in. "How am I supposed to leave now?" you whisper to yourself, noticing 4 gazes staring at you with different expressions but they all contained one thing, Lust.

Did Silas forget to mention that he was a succubus?

purerae<3

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS HEAVILY APPRECIATED.

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eleni-cherie · 1 month ago

Text

agents' secrets ✨ || bts • jjk [ONE-SHOT]

"please don't shoot me for this."

about two interpol agents assigned to catch a pack of thieves. and a dicey secret to share.

[one-shot in 'the thieves collection' series - can be read independently!!]

»»»

— word count: 10k

— genre: interpol agent au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburning, mutual pining, co-workers to friends to lover cw2f2l

— song recommendations/inspirations:

luca vasta - imperial (i don't wanna dance)

hozier - too sweet

alexandra savior - bones

claire - friendly fire

ezi - take my breath away

jungkook - standing next to you

»»»

IDEA/STORY/CHARACTERS BASED ON MY PREVIOUS STORIES: "A THIEF'S ORIGIN" , "AMONG THIEVES" AND "A THIEF'S END".

this one-shot aims to give additional backstory to some incidents from the three main stories from jungkook and skylar's perspective while focusing and adding details to their friend- and relationship.

if you want the full context and also more of the two, check out the other stories as well!

PROTAGONISTS:

JEON JUNGKOOK AS HIMSELF; YOUNG INTERPOL AGENT / FRISKY COLLEAGUE

KIERNAN SHIPKA AS SKYLAR BLAKE; YOUNG INTERPOL AGENT / AMBITIOUS NEWBIE

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

NOT FREE FROM LINGUISTIC ERRORS - ENGLISH IS NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE.

DON’T BE A GHOST READER. LIKE, COMMENT & SHARE THIS STORY IF YOU LIKE IT :))

DEDICATED TO EVERYONE WHO’S READING THIS FANFIC!

CHECK OUT MY OTHER BTS STORIES AS WELL: HERE

-Elenixx

»»»

[set between the prequel and main story]

Interpol branch office

Seoul, South Korea

Jungkook had never been someone struggling with mornings. Considering they'd spend the previous days in Shanghai, arresting a counterfeiter they'd been after for months, however, the lack of sleep started getting the best of him.

If he could, he'd have more than twenty-four hours a day. A day alone wasn't enough to fully rest.

With a yawn, he sat behind his desk and switched his pc on. Slight disappointment washing over his features as there weren't any news about their favourite pack of thieves. Perhaps Seokjin would inform them about any hints regarding Park Jimin and his gang in the team meeting later.

His eyes wandered around then, realising Namjoon wasn't at the desk across from his. And he sighed. It was a view he should probably get used to considering his older collegue was leaving the robbery department soon to become the lead at special victims.

Of course Jungkook was happy for Namjoon, but he simply wasn't a big fan of changes, even if they were inevitable. It always took him awhile getting used to new circumstances.

Suddenly a tall figure entered his peripheral view and he saw his supervisor walking towards him with an ambigious smirk. "Jungkook-ah! Good morning!"

"'morning, Sir."

"What are these bags under your eyes? They're deeper than my soul," Seokjin laughed out and gave him a pat on the shoulder, coaxing a tired chuckle from the young agent.

"I know, I know," he mumbled in embarrassment, which his supervisor missed while looking for something in his pockets. Eventually pulling out a USB drive.

"Remember the list of suspects we requested from the bootleg case? We got it here. Make sure to cross-check with the other case."

He nodded firmly. "Sure."

Only when Seokjin left, he let himself sink into his seat again. He definitely needed coffee before the team meeting in less than an hour. So he got up, making his way towards the elevator. As he rounded the corner, he saw Namjoon entering through the glass doors with the sleeves of his blazer rolled up and a pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose. An air of refined nonchalance surrounding him.

He was holding one of the double doors open and only then Jungkook noticed he was talking to someone. Catching a glimpse of a person behind his broad shoulders.

"This is our floor and where you're gonna work at next week. It's pretty much the sa- oh! JK!" Namjoon's cheery voice when noticing him made Jungkook pause in his tracks. With a shy smile, he waved and walked up to him. Seeing the person Namjoon was talking to appear beside him.

A young woman, probably not older than him but not much younger either, stood there. Compared to Namjoon's tall stature she looked tiny and when standing in front of her he realised that she was indeed quite short, probably not more than 1.6 metres in height. Her shoulder-length blond hair was falling in soft waves, pushed back by a hairband. There was a sharpness in her brown eyes and a reserved curve on her lips as she locked gazes with him.

Only when one of her thick brows arched, he realised he'd been staring and with a quick blink of his eyes, he redirected them to Namjoon who'd been talking this whole time. "Huh?"

Namjoon gave him a puzzled frown before laughing out. "Say, haven't you fully woken up yet? I said this is your new colleague."

"Starting on monday, so not yet," the young woman corrected with a charming smile, earning a nod from Namjoon.

"Oh," Jungkook finally spoke up, his eyes going round like a child's as soon as he processed the information. And his gaze returned to her. "So you're his successor?"

"Y-yeah, I guess so," she answered tentatively.

"She's gonna be your new partner."

And his lips curled up. "Nice to meet you, then. I'm agent Jeon Jungkook."

He offered her his hand, which she accepted with a coy smile, giving it a quick squeeze before letting go again.

"Agent Skylar Blake, nice to meet you."

The senior agent motioned with his chin for them to continue down the corridor. "I was about to show her around the department before the meeting. You wanna join us?"

"Maybe later, gotta grab some coffee first."

Namjoon gave him an understanding look and chuckled. "Yeah, you look like you could use one."

He eventually met Skylar and Namjoon again in the conference room half an hour later. The two already sitting and chatting at a corner while people started gathering. Jungkook was sipping at his by now lukewarm coffee, occasionally peeking at them from a few seats away as they were all intently listening to Seokjin and the other teamleaders' updates.

The meeting went by rather quickly. There were news regarding some cases but nothing regarding Jimin, Taehyung and Yoongi. The general census being that they were currently laying low and preparing for a new coup after the failed one in Thailand months ago.

It was nearing noon when Jungkook sat back in his desk chair and stretched his neck. Finally having finished going through the list Seokjin had given him and some other evidence. He hadn't looked up from his screens in hours and when he did, his irises caught sight of Skylar sitting at the desk opposite to his. Namjoon's desk.

Her dark eyes concentrating on something in front of her, scribbling down on the paper.

For a moment, he observed her quietly as she tucked a streak of blond hair behind her ear. Tongue slightly sticking out between her red-painted lips. And he got curious of what she was so focused on.

Surely, he hadn't talked much to her yet but she seemed nice. And considering the two would be working closely from now on, he should probably get to know her better.

Skylar scribbled something again on what he eventually saw was a crosswords, too immersed in it to notice him approaching. Only a few blanks were left on the quiz and he raised an impressed brow when standing beside her.

"'Jackass'."

The young woman jumped up in her seat, looking startled at Jungkook above her.

"W-what?"

"'Jackass'," her he repeated matter-of-factly, motioning with his eyes to the squares on the paper and tapping his finger on it. "Nine horizontal, 'equid – stupid person': jackass."

Finally understanding, she looked down and indeed, it fit. "T-thanks."

"You bored?" he asked then, meeting her friendly smile.

"Kinda. Agent Kim told me to wait here as he got called in by the other agent Kim and you seemed so emerged in your task, I didn't want to disturb."

He hummed, his eyes briefly falling into a sad scowl. He knew he should get used to seeing someone else, particularly her, sitting behind that desk from now on, however, it was still hard to grasp or accept that fact.

Shaking off that thought, he grabbed the unoccupied desk chair of another colleague then, rolling next to her. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, taking a seat beside her. A whiff of an unfamiliar smell filling his nostrils. It was her, he realised, she smelled nice. Of flowers.

She shook her head then, scooting further away to make space for him. "I didn't want to distract you from your task, though. You don't have to keep me company."

"Nah, don't worry, I finished and besides.." he offered her a smile, "..we'll be partners from now on. I should probably get to know you better since we're gonna spend so much time together."

Her lips folded and she nodded. "Makes sense.."

"So you like crosswords?"

"Mh. And reading. Keeps my mind busy."

"I see. I prefer video games."

"I suck in them," she deadpanned, earning a chuckle from him. At least she was honest.

"And I suck in reading anything with more than twenty pages of text."

"Oh, so you can still read children's books at least."

He huffed a laugh seeing her biting back one herself. He wasn't used to anyone being this witty with him besides Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon and it amused him. Made it easier to get used to her.

"Yeah, but I'd much rather read manga."

He managed getting a small laugh out of her after all and he grinned, satisfied.

They grew quiet, reading over the remaining blanks when Skylar peeked at him with prying eyes.

"Since we're getting to know each other right now.." she began slowly, earning a questioning look from him, "May I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Why do you seem so sad when looking at me?"

His brows rose briefly, before looking away with a sigh. So she had noticed. "Is it that obvious?"

"Oh, sorry, was it supposed to be a poker-face?" she giggled then, pointing her pen at him, "If so, I must inform you, you failed miserably."

He scoffed, laughing again and she joined him.

It was interesting. When she'd first met him a few hours ago he seemed aloof. However, seeing him laugh now had much the opposite effect on her. He looked quite innocent and childlike as his round eyes crinkled and turned into crescents while laughing carelessly.

"Please don't take it personally," he said then, "It has nothing to do with you. It's just.. I'm kinda sad Namjoon's leaving. That's all. He.. he is my role model here. Obviously Seokjin, too, they both are. But Namjoon was the reason I joined this department in the first place."

Memories from four years ago when he'd first joined after graduating from the academy swept through his mind. How nervous and dewy-eyed he'd once been and determinded to prove himself. Looking back at it now, he had to laugh at his past self.

Skylar, however, didn't seem nervous or gullible at all. At least from what he'd seen that day. And he quickly noticed the surprise on the younger agent's face at his confession, feeling himself blushing. "I know it must sound ridiculous and - "

"No, actually.. I get it," she interrupted him, "It was the same for me."

His eyes grew round. "What?"

She only nodded vigorously. "Yeah, I applied for narcotics first but he somehow got my application and convinced me to come here instead. He.. he surely has a way with words. I couldn't refuse." Frankly, she was still amazed by Namjoon's eloquent way of speaking.

Jungkook laughed to himself, nodding in agreement. "He definitely does."

They exchanged a small smile when suddenly their names were heard from the other side of the office. Both their heads turned in the direction of Seokjin's voice, seeing their supervisor standing all the way back at the open door of the conference room, waving at them to come.

"Just got some news from our favourite thieves. Blake, you might wanna join since you'll have to deal with them from now on, too."

They nodded and immediately got up to hurry to the conference room when Skylar accidentally bumped into him. Their gazes locked as she smiled up at him. And in that short moment her cherry lips moved to apologize, his breath hitched and he swallowed hard. His ears began ringing out of nowhere then, as if they'd clogged up and he shook his head in a poor attempt to get rid of it.

He noticed Skylar's puzzled expression, dark brows knitted together and his irises widened, taken aback.

"You two coming?"

"Y-yeah, yes," Jungkook quickly yelled and brushed past her towards the conference room.

And Skylar stood there, eyes resting on his tall figure.

What an odd guy.

»»»

[6 months later, during main story]

Mexico City, Mexico

"I can't believe I let her trick me like that," Skylar huffed, doing her best to fight against the urge of burying her face in her hands. Instead, she only shook her head, disappointment washing over her.

Jungkook gave her an empathetic look. "You're too hard on yourself," he said and settled for the seat across from her. "Seriously, don't let that get to you. Arabella Valentine is a sly one. She'd have tricked anyone and this was the first time you came face-to-face with her."

Despite her appreciating his attempt of cheering her up, her sulky expression only persisted. "I know. But considering I studied these criminals so well the past months and knew how mesmerising she can be to the point even Park Jimin constantly gets wrapped around her finger, I should've been better prepared. She caught me out completely and I know it's unprofessional but I.. I-" Skylar grew quiet before throwing her head back with a groan. "- but I quite profoundly and wholeheartedly dislike her."

Jungkook only bursted out laughing, quite amused by the usual level-headed Skylar losing her composure. "Because she handcuffed you onto the cabinet."

"Because she handcuffed me onto the cabinet," she confirmed.

It was the first time she had encountered the female thief and Jimin's 'frenemy' and love interest, and despite the stories and warnings, she wouldn't have guessed to get so easily fooled by her, too.

Quite frankly, Skylar felt her pride was hurt but more importantly she'd embarrassed herself. In front of Jungkook and worse, in front of their supervisor Seokjin. Despite him laughing it off and even joking about the situation.

"Ah, Sky, told you already. You're too uptight, loosen up! No one's judging you for that. I used to be like that, too, you know. I took everything too serious, I was so eager to prove myself.. But there's nothing to prove. You're good, otherwise you wouldn't be here."

In the past months and during long flights all across the globe and endless nights going over evidence and connecting the dots, he'd said the same. In the beginning she was indifferent and simply waved it off, then she got almost comically offended by his advices. By now it only made her exhale deeply, knowing he was right. Yet, it was hard to accept it.

"But she got away.." mumbled and propped her chin onto her hand as she looked out into the sunlit buildings outside the police precinct.

Sometimes, she still felt like the outsider. The rookie. The newbie.

Everyone but her team colleagues looking down at her. Perhaps she was being paranoid, but sometimes it seemed like agents from the other teams and departments were talking about her behind her back. Like when she entered a room and everyone coincidentally stopped talking, people looking away when she caught them staring or hushed whispers around the corners.

It was surely all in her imagination, all these insecurities she'd felt while growing up and later in school, university and the academy, piling up. As if being half-korean and not looking like it at all wasn't bad enough, but with her mother being a diplomat and sending her to private tutors and lessons, it surely hadn't made it easier.

She wondered if any of her colleagues knew about it, wondered if they believed she only got so far because of her mother, despite her always being strictly against her daughter persuing that career and even joining Interpol.

The sound of typing interrupted her train for thoughts then and she saw Jungkook had begun looking over the security footage in the meantime, trying locating Jimin and Arabella's escape route after slipping away in the traffic.

"She'd have anyway," he eventually shrugged a gentle smile crossing his lips when glancing at her, "But you were the only one thinking about checking the archive. You were smarter than the rest of us."

That was true, she thought and it lightened her mood a tiny bit. A genuine smile tucking on her red lips. At least Jungkook never treated her differently, despite knowing about her background.

He was way more positive than her. Not that she was a pessimist, but when it came to herself she was certainly her biggest critic.

Her eyes wandered over the curve of his cheek, and the wave of his hair, and the way his shirt draped over his shoulders.

Shaking her head, she pulled her laptop closer to help him in his search.

"Cheer up, here." His sudden enthusiasm made her perk up from her screen and he turned his laptop to her. "Found where they went to. It's this café."

She arched a brow. "But do you really think they'll still be there? As if."

"Maybe not, but it's at least a clue and besides.." He rubbed his belly with an innocent smile. He got up then and flipped the device shut, gesturing for her to follow. "Come, I'll treat you to lunch. To make up for your hard day."

She huffed out a laugh. "I know you're making fun of me again. But I surely won't decline the offer."

And she gave him a wink before brushing past him.

The floral scent of her perfume staying a second more.

»»»

[a week later]

Jungkook couldn't help but giggle in childish amusement when seeing Skylar struggling matching his speed. They were doing laps to warm up and he'd decided to tease her a little more by speeding up.

"Jung-" she wheezed "-kook! You meanie!"

Another fit of chuckles errupted from his cheeky grin until stopping abruptly and looking behind him.

Her blond waves were in a high ponytail, swaying left and right as she jogged towards him. Nearing him with a scowl.

They were both wearing the same standard field training attire, olive-green cargo pants and black shirts, almost looking like children whose parents' decided to give them matching couple outfits just for fun.

"Did you say anything?" he asked with a shit-eating grin, earning a roll of her eyes.

"We said we'd do a relaxed warm-up!"

He faked innocence at her adorable pout. "Oh sorry, must've forgotten."

Skylar could tell he hadn't but decided she didn't have the energy or will to continue arguing, being too exhausted after running like a maniac for five laps to try catching him.

"Are you two enough warmed up now?" the instructor at the training centre interrupted their bickering, both following him to the actual gym area.

Some would consider it a perk being able to exercise during work hours as field agents had to stay physically fit. Others again might consider it almost a punishment having to constantly work out.

Jungkook belonged to the first kind while Skylar was rather seeing herself in the second category. That day, however, she saw herself in the first one with him.

Defence training was on the schedule which she enjoyed as it was the only time she didn't feel totally inferior to Jungkook's muscular built which was quite the opposite to his sweet and juvenile face. And especially after Arabella having so skillfully fooled her last time, she felt she needed to freshen her skills.

An hour passed, grunts and small yells filling the area as both went through the exercises, either with the instructor or the training dummies. The air got stuffy after some, making the two eventually pause in need for a water break and to catch their breaths.

The instructor suggested for them to repeat the last couple of figures together the . One acting as the attacker and the other as the defender. So they positioned themselves on the training mat opposite of each other. Arms in front of them in a starting position.

"I'm apologising in advance, in case I'll hurt you," she said, causing Jungkook to scoff. He couldn't believe that smug smile on her gentle features.

"That's rich coming from the one always asking me to open her water bottles," he simply countered. Skylar's jaw dropped, about to retort something, when he began moving and she quickly composed herself.

Their movements were quick, she stepped in close to his body so when she turned, her right shoulder brushed his chest. Using the edges of her opened hands, she struck his upper and lower arm. Obviously she didn't do it too hard, it was more about doing the correct movements than using force. After all, she didn't want to actually hurt him.

Grabbing his arm, she twisted it until the heel of his hand pointed toward the ceiling. But then he pivoted, placing his right shoulder under her elbow and freeing himself. He walked backwards, facing her with a smug grin on his full lips. He brushed away the dyed strands that had fallen in front of his eyes with his tattooed hand as he took in the initial position.

Skylar puffed out a breath, blowing off a strand that had loosened from her ponytail. There was determination written behind her long-eyelashes and her fingers gave him a daring wave, gesturing him that she was ready for his move.

Without saying a word, his body spun in an fast movement. Left hand pulled back into a fist, the other arm stretched out for a pretend-punch aimed at the spot beside her. But Skylar grabbed his wrist in time and forced it to stop mid-air while her other hand grasped the collar of his shirt.

And both came to an abrupt halt, staring at each other with heavy breaths. Sweat beads were rolling down their foreheads, hair sticking to their flushed skin. There was a sudden shift in the air between them, it felt tense, electrified even. And for a moment, Jungkook forgot where he was, the wave emerging from her eyes deep and dark, threatening to envelop him as he sunk in deeper in them. Almost swallowing him up. And there it was again, that faint ringing penetrating his ears. Until the instructor's loud clap yanked him back to reality.

"Good! Back to the initial position and repeat!"

Skylar let out a shaky breath and loosened her fist from his shirt. Retreating slowly. Her brown irises fell to the bigger becoming space between them.

And she wondered if he also felt a short pain shooting through every fibre of his body when their faces were only centimetres apart from each other.

»»»

[a month later, set during the main story]

Skylar was laying in her hospital bed. Wide awake.

Hours had passed since Jungkook's visit - after a nurse had lost her patience and pressed him to leave as visiting hours had long ended and Skylar was supposed to rest. Yet, she couldn't just do that. Of course not. Laying there instead with eyes wide open, staring into the darkness.

Waking up there after three days of coma due to exhaustion should have had her shaken up. However, the main cause of her troubled thoughts was rather the situation that had brought this upon her to begin with. The memory of it replaying in her mind's eye in an endless loop.

Just a pinch between her shoulder, nothing more was needed from Jimin for her to succumb after catching him on his escape from the interpol building.

It should've never come this far considering her self-defense skills, then how did it?

Certainly, she wasn't the only interpol agent these thieves kept outwitting, even her own supervisor getting fooled by them and yet, she felt humiliated it happened to her again.

Was Jungkook right? Did she overdo it and overwork herself?

Jungkook.. She should probably consider herself lucky to have such a sweet and caring person as her partner. He was always so considerate of everyone.

She wondered if he percieved her like that as well. As he himself always said, they had to look out for each other and that was what she always tried when they were out in the field. But somehow she felt like she failed. How was she supposed to look after Jungkook when she let herself get tricked by thieves so easily?

She sighed, her eyelids growing heavy eventually.

"Let me guess," Jimin chuckled from behind, "You're into your little colleague, agent Jeon, right?"

Her eyes shot open at the sudden memory creeping up from the depth of her mind.

Jimin's teasing words while disarming her days ago still rang loud in her ears. And she frowned all over again about this random and profoundly wrong conclusion.

Sure, he was known for having excessive psychological skills and the ability to read through everyone, exposing them to his advantage, but even he could be wrong at least once. Right?

"T-that'd be highly unprofessional," she had defended herself back then and she stood by that. But now she regretted not simply denying it.

Yes, he was attractive and cute. Yes, he had a charming smile. Yes, he had a great personality.

No, she didn't have feelings for him. Not because it would've been unprofessional but because she simply didn't.

Right?

Jimin surely wouldn't have persisted calling it a crush if she had just denied it.

She was good in self-defence, she'd trained for this kind of situations. And yet, when he'd brought up Jungkook, it'd thrown her off completely. Distracting her. Of course, that was most likely the reason he had done it in the first place. He had only tried messing with her by bringing up Jungkook and she'd let him succeed.

That was what bothered her the most, the fact she'd failed in freeing herself from Jimin's clasp in time before he'd began distracting her.

And that was also the only reason why he'd called Jungkook to pick up her unconscious self afterwards. He probably thought he'd do her a favour by not leaving her on the cold ground for too long, as amends for making her unconscious.

That was it. Anything else wouldn't make sense because Skylar did not have a crush or any romantic feelings towards her partner.

She couldn't.

And still, she couldn't deny the warmth she'd felt when seeing him there. When waking up in that unknown environment, dazed and confused, meeting Jungkook's excited eyes and bunny smile gave her a wave of serenity.

He always made her feel safe. That was something no one else could.

»»»

Jungkook's gaze kept unconsciously returning to the empty desk in front of him.

It was funny in a way. Seven months ago he had struggled getting used to seeing her occupying the space instead of Namjoon and now, now he couldn't imagine anyone but her sitting there. And seeing it all empty gave him a restlessness he couldn't quite understand.

Truth was, when he'd seen Skylar lying unconscious against the wall, his heart had dropped to the pits of his stomach, filled with panic and fear. The mere possibility of anything happening to her, made his mind cloud with a dark fog.

Lost in thoughts, he kept nervously tapping the pen in his hands against the tabletop.

He secretly worried, he constantly worried for her and he didn't know why.

It wasn't because he considered her weak or incapable. He knew she was more than capable. Her scores at the gun training were always 90% or more. And she was able to defend herself, which she always proved whenever the two trained together. And she was intelligent, the smartest person he knew save for Namjoon, she wouldn't get herself in danger.

Then why was he constantly concerned over her well-being?

Probably because he wasn't blind, he saw her staying up on the plane while everyone was dozing off, going over the case files. Or staying in office after everyone was gone, to finish the paper work. Or how she constantly beat herself up whenever she believed she'd screwed up. Just like now, despite an hospital stay. His eyes fell on the empty desk across from him again.

The relief he'd felt when she'd finally regained consciousness after three days was beyond description.

It was logical for him to worry, though. Of course it was.

Skylar was his partner. She was his friend.

»»»

[set after the final chapter of the main story but before its epilogue]

A knock on the car window disrupted the peaceful silence. Much to Jungkook's surprise, he saw none other than his partner waving at him from the other side of the glass before opening the door and sliding into the passenger seat. She immedietally took off her gloves to rub her cold hands in the warmness inside. The heating blasting from the dashboard in full mode

"Sky, what -" Cough, cough. "Are -"

"Save yourself from another coughing fit," she giggled and revealed a paper bag. Rummaging inside it before taking out a cup. "Here, drink."

Jungkook blinked, accepting the warm beverage. The steamy aroma of tea filling the car.

He opened the lid and blew on it before taking a sip. "What are you doing here? I thought -" Cough. "- Don was supposed to scope out with me tonight."

The blonde only shrugged, taking out another cup for herself. "I switched. Convinced him that he'd rather want to sit in a warm and cozy office and file the warrant requests than being out all night in the cold."

Her answer only puzzled him more as it rose more questions. "Didn't you prefer being in a warm and cozy office, too, though?"

"Of course," she nodded.

"Then why did you do it?"

She smiled into the dark liquid between her hands. Taking a sip herself and letting it warm her her frozen body. "Because. You know, it's quite boring if you aren't around to keep me company," she admitted casually. Despite feeling her already pink cheeks blushing more. His lips parted, but before he could response anything, she cleared her throat and continued. "And besides, I know it ain't fun doing an observation. Especially not when you got a cold and the other person talks non-stop about themselves."

He chuckled under his breath and took another sip from the tea, soothing his itchy throat. "Guess that's true."

"It's you who should've been in the warm office, your nose is all red," Skylar pointed out then with a raised brow but he only waved her off.

"S'okay."

"You sure?" He wanted to roll his eyes but Skylar's delicate hand suddenly pressed against his forehead. A concentrating look on her soft edges. His breath hinched. His eyes flickering to her lips.

"You're warm, you must have temperature." She sat back, glaring at him with concern. "Jungkook, are you sure you're okay?"

And he smiled. "I am, don't worry."

To that Skylar only huffed and crossed her arms. "You're such a hypocrite, always telling me I shouldn't strain myself but here you are, sitting in a car in the middle of January for an observation while being sick."

"'am not," the round-eyed guy mumbled when an anew cough emerged and he quickly tried suffocating it with the warm tea.

"Fine, be stubborn and worsen your cold," she mumbled then, "But don't expect me to come and bring you soup or something." She shoved the paper bag into his lap then and he saw there were his favourite cup noodles, banana milk and a pack of antipyretic pills.

His lips formed a small grin. He wouldn't mind getting worse if that meant she'd take care of him really. Nonetheless, he swallowed one of the pills along with his tea.

For the next ten minutes they oberved the building in silence. Skylar felt her eyes closing on their own, having to constantly blink to keep them open. She wasn't the best in simply sitting there for hours without doing anything, hence why she despised observations. And Jungkook knew it. Of course he did after two years of knowing and working with her now.

And yet she chose to do an observation just to keep him company.

Most people thought of Skylar of the perfect balance of wit and charm. Fascinating and inaccessible, distant because of her demonstrated intelligence, and possessing such strength of character that she was dismaying and at the same time utterly attractive in an enticing and 'out-of-your-league' way. But to Jungkook she was more than that, more than simply smart, capable and beautiful. She was lovely, she was caring, she was adorable when upset and a real tease when competing with him.

But one thing he had to agree with, she was surely way out of his league.

"You know," he broke the silence, his voice quiter than he intended, "I read that classic novel you recommended."

At that any evidence of sleep washed away from her. "When?"

He frowned. "Why are you acting so surprised?" He sounded genuinely offended by her dumbfounded look and she quickly folded her lips.

"S-sorry, it's just that you yourself said you aren't much of a reader. That's why I've never expected you.." Her voice trailed off as she watched the cute pout on his lips grow. "And how did you find it? Did you like it?"

Jungkook made a thinking expression, biting his lips. "Honestly, I was confused in the beginning, but once I finally got the hang of it and used to the writing style, it was quite good. Less dramatic than I expected though."

She laughed. The lights of the dashboard giving her clear skin a faint blueish hue. "You expected it more dramatic? I found it quite dramatic as it was."

He shrugged with a lopsided grin, lingering on her dazzling large eyes a bit longer before averting his gaze back to the building he was supposed to observe all night long. "Perhaps I'm used to Hollywood-movie-drama. For the people back then it must've been quite dramatic."

Skylar couldn't help but give him a fond look. The fact he read one of her favourite books despite not being into reading, meant a lot. Especially as it wasn't a light read either, she knew.

"If I knew you'd read one of my recommendations I'd have suggested a classic romance novel, knowing you have a weak spot for such stories," she said, not teasing this time but with a nothing but affectionate smile.

"Name me one and I might read it if I find the time and will again."

"Let me think of one, after all I don't wanna be cliché and recommend Pride and Prejudice - although admittedly, it's brilliant."

"Oh, I've heard of the film - can I just watch that instead?" His boyish grin made her laugh out.

"Sure, do whatever you want," she giggled, looking out at the dark streets again. The fluffy snow blanket covering all their dirty secrets. No one had entered or left the building of interest and no one was out at this hour unless they had some dubious business anyway.

"You know," she spoke up after awhile, "I also tried watching the movie you mentioned."

He perked up at this. "'Tried'?" he repeated chuckling, "So you didn't."

"I did!" she defended herself, "But.."

"But?"

She pursed her lips. "I cried."

"Huh?" He looked at her, dumbfounded.

A pout crossed her features and she looked out again. "I cried, okay? A bit. It made me cry."

His lips folded, contemplating whether his memory failed to remember the sad scenes or if there really weren't any. "But.. it's not a sad film," he smiled then.

"Not necessarily sad, but touching for sure," she mumbled bashfully, avoiding his glance so he wouldn't see her eyes tearing up again. She was good in keeping herself from sudden emotional outbursts, but she had a weak spot for plots like this. Although she rarely watched anime films, this one would surely go to the top of her list.

"You're cute."

Jungkook's sudden words made her turn slowly, looking at his smile with utter astonishment. No one had ever called her cute, save for when she was a child. She didn't find her face to be one that would commonly be considered 'cute' nor did she think her personality matched that description. And yet, she felt herself blushing.

Her lips parted, fiddling with her words when he looked ahead again and took another sip of his tea. Clearly missing her lack of words. "Okay, no films that may make you cry then. What about horror films?"

"Horror films?" Skylar asked surprised, glad for the change of topics. "I love horror films! I thought you were only into chickflicks and anime though."

He frowned, faking offence. "Not 'chickflicks' - romance and dramas. There's a difference!"

She giggled, rolling her eyes. "Alright, sorry. But why have you never told me you like horror films in all these years we know each other?"

He shrugged. In all honesty, he didn't expect her to actually be into this genre and was a little astonished over that. "Hm, why have you never mentioned it either?"

And the two shared a short laugh before going back to observing the building in silence. His eyes occasionally side-tracking and watching her instead.

Skylar wasn't just his partner. Neither was she just his friend.

She was the closest person to him.

»»»

[a few months later]

national treasury

Sejong, South Korea

"Team alpha, our man has been seen in the basement, near the left corridor."

"Roger that," Jungkook answered into the transmitter before pointing to their left with two fingers. Skylar gave him a nod and proceeded through the metal door with her gun aiming in front of her. Him following, eyes trained on every corner.

The basement of the national treasury was dim-lit, only security lights being switched. Bathing the corridors in wine-red and creating an eery atmosphere.

Skylar made a handsign, indicating she saw something suspicious. Shining the flashlights which were held right under their guns at the direction. And indeed, the massive door at the end of the corridor, was left a jar. Both exchanged a glance. It could've been a trap but they had to check it out nonetheless.

Carefully, Junkook pushed it open and entered, shining into the darkness. He went further inside, Skylar illuminating the other side of the room. Cabinets, safe deposits but nothing more visible. Reaching its end, they realised the area was empty and lowered their arms with a disappointed sigh.

His partner was about to propose to leave and check other places, only for a heavy noise behind them to catch their attention. They tensed and looked behind their shoulders. Against the red lights, the lean sillhuette of a man appeared and he waved at them. Jimin's laugh echoing through the dark then. "Don't worry! I'm sure the adults will find you soon."

Before they could react properly, he disappeared behind the massive safe door. Letting it click shut and leaving them both with a perplexed look in the light of their flashlights.

"No, no, no. No way," she muttered and shoved her gun into its holster before rushing to the metall door and desperately trying to push or pull it open, in vain. It didn't bulge even a little. Jungkook joined her, both grunting while taking turns in throwing their bodyweight onto it and pulling at the handles in a desperate attempt.

"It's really locked, huh?" he exhaled watching his partner retreat from it with a deep crease set between her brows.

"Seems like it.." She groaned, throwing her head back. "Great. That damn thief.. and what are we doing now?"

"Well," Jungkook shrugged after tapping his in-ear and not receiving any signal, just as expected considering that was one of the main security precautions of that safe. No reception. "I'm pretty sure agent Kim will look for us soon. He must notice we're missing."

Skylar only huffed though, taken aback by how relaxed he seemed. She observed him taking a seat on the ground, propping one arm on his angled knee while letting his flashlight wander around the room. The countless deposit lockers lined up on the walls covering everything in a cold silver.

"What do you think is inside there?" he asked. Brown eyes round from curiosity.

She sighed and walked up to him. Sliding down the wall and taking a seat beside him. She hated having to just sit and wait, not being able to do anything. She felt helpless and that was what they essentially were in that moment. All they could do was sit and wait for their colleagues or any security guards to find them.

Tricked by those thieves once again. She had to laugh at how ridiculous it was.

With a dragged breath, she stared up to the ceiling. Her eyes peeked at Jungkook who was still looking around their surroundings with child-like awe. If it wasn't for the situation they were in, she'd have found it adorable.

Quickly, she shook her head and coughed. She had to stay calm and focus. "I have no clue, Kook."

He hummed and began walking around. Lighting at the walls in search for any well or crack, but unable to make out anything like that. His gaze then went to the ceiling and the glass squares covering the lamps.

"Sky, would you come here for a second?"

"Why?" she asked but still got up, walking up him. Her eyes following his when he faced her with a mischievious smirk.

"I'll give you a leg-up and you try see if you can push in any of the squares. Maybe there's an intermediate ceiling."

She looked at him in disbelief. "Seriously?"

He simply nodded with certainty so she sighed, eventually nodding.

Jungkook was glad that no matter how ridiculous Skylar found his ideas, she'd always agree to follow them. He didn't know whether it was because she trusted him or because she didn't want to put up with his persistence, but he was glad nonetheless.

He crouched down, folding his hands on the ground for her to put her foot on. She grabbed onto his sturdy shoulders as he hoisted her and she climbed onto them. Frankly, she got a fuzzy feeling being all up high on an a wobbly surface but he held her ankles firmly, so she dared an attempt to stretch. Barely touching the built-in lamps.

With light grunts, she stretched more. Eventually managing pushing one of the lamps but with no success. It didn't bulge. "Dammit," she muttered and tried again by subconsciously raising her heels and slipping.

She shrieked out of shock, hands letting go of the flashlight and instinctively reaching out to hold onto nothing but air. In the split second she fell, she saw sporadic memories appear in her mind's eye when feeling strong arms enveloping her.

Jungkook had caught her fall in time, slowly setting her down. Her feet touching the ground of whose acquaintance she'd almost made.

Skylar's heart was racing, chest raising and falling rapidly as she breathed irregularly. And she stared at the soft ages of his dimly-lit face with a bewildered glare.

He was so close, he was so close and she couldn't feel her legs anymore. She couldn't feel her fingers or the cold or the emptiness of this room because all she felt was the warmth his body was radiating, everywhere, filling everything while his arms were still securely wrapped around her smaller frame.

And she couldn't help but recall the memory pieces she'd seen when falling. They all consisted of him. Pieces of them together. Of his sparkling eyes, crinkling when laughing, of his sweet smile, turning mischievious when teasing her and his gentle voice, calling her name.

"Sky, are you alright?"

She blinked, realising he was actually calling her. Concern engraved on his partly illuminated features due to her silence. "Y-yes." However, her fingers curled more around his biceps. Ensuring he wasn't an illusion of her imagination from hitting the ground after all. "Please," she whispered then, "Please, don't shoot me for this."

And before he had the chance to ask what she meant, she let go of all her self-control and instead, kissed him.

She kissed him like it was her only chance to ever do something so reckless and bold again, because it most likely was, and she had to make the most out of it.

His lips were softer than anything she'd ever known, soft like a first snowfall, like biting into cotton candy, like melting and floating and being weightless in water. It was so effortlessly sweet. But perhaps the best part of all that was that she, guilty of constantly analysing the world around her, stopped thinking. And it was amazing.

At least, until she started thinking again.

"You.. wow.." he breathed against her flushed lips then. If his pupils weren't already wide from the darkness, they'd surely been after that unexpected move.

"S-sorry," she stuttered, feeling silly and awkward when realising what she'd just done in the brief moment her logic was switched off. "I shouldn't - I mean, we're colleagues. Partners! We should not.. it was unproffessional. Let's forget about it." Her feet moved to step back, when she felt his hands holding her forearms firm in their place.

"Sky," he simply said and she immediately stopped in her tracks. "If you regret it because it happened in the heat of the moment, without any meaning to you, I'll forget and never mention it again." He paused. Her soft skin shining faintly in the light of the flashlights on the ground. His hands moved from her arms, to her shoulders and eventually came to a halt on her neck. And Skylar held her breath, unable to move her gaze away. "However," his voice deeper now, "If the only reason you regret it is out of fear what anyone at work might think, I'll remind you that no one's around."

Skylar swallowed. Unable to suppress the rush in her chest. "And.. and what about you?"

"Me?"

"Y-yeah, what do you.. think about it?"

He smiled before pulling her in. His lips finding hers again. She didn't even try to fight it, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling Jungkook closer. His hands wounded her hair, as he'd wanted to do since the first time he'd seen her. It curled around his fingers, silky and fine. Her lovely scent filled his nostrils. His heart was pounding hard, creating a rushing sound in his ears. It wasn't a ringing this time, though, it was like beating wings.

Until it was replaced with the jarring noise of the opening door, catching them off-guard.

They practically pushed each other away, taking several steps back when multiple sillhouettes appeared at the frame of the opened door and they recognised Seokjin with security guards standing there. Bliding them with their flashlights and the two flinched.

"There you are! Jimin only left a note to look after 'the kids'," their supervisor laughed, seemingly highly amused by the situation. He turned around then, gesturing for them to follow. "Come, you two, there's no time to waste. He's still around the building."

"Y-yes, sir!" Both exclaimed in unison, peeking at each other before rushing out. Almost bumping at each other when trying getting through the door at the same time.

She nudged him then when the others were several steps ahead.

"You got lipstick around your lips," she said in a rushed whisper before picking up her pace and joining Seokjin, who was giving them new instructions.

And Jungkook smirked, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

It was good the security lights were still switched on and no one could see their flustered faces and excited smiles. Or her own smudged lipstick.

They surely had a long night in front of them.

»»»

[two months later]

Interpol branch office

Seoul, South Korea

"I'll do it - should I do it? I'll do it. No -"

Skylar turned around, ready to head back to her desk when she bumped into something hard. Stumbling back, she came face to face with her boyfriend who was arching a brow at her.

"What are you doing?"

"I- nothing," she said firmly, "Going back to my desk." She was about to brush past him when Jungkook grabbed her arm, pulling her back.

"Why aren't you going inside?" he asked. His voice was calm and it sounded like a genuine question, yet there was a judging tone in it. "You should go in and talk to him, just like we practiced."

A sulky expression crossed her face and she looked away. "I- I forgot what we practiced. I mean, I got a blackout okay? I can't, let's just-" Her anew attempt of leaving once again prevented by him.

"Sky, why are you so nervous? You'd be perfect for the position. Just give agent Kim your official application and explain why you want it."

She sighed, peeking at him with a meek smile. "You know.. I don't like when people have such high expectations of me.. I usually like to crush them." It was one of her personality flaws, she supposed. Just like she had done by not following the plans her mother had made for her life.

"Is it expectations if I'm certain that you'll succeed though?"

"That's so cheesy of you," she whispered with a giggle, "But if we weren't at work I'd kiss you for that."

"You can kiss me later at home," he chuckled, tucking a stray streak of hair behind her ear and cupping her cheek briefly before letting go. Knowing she didn't want to risk anyone there finding out and hence always reminding him to keep any display of affection at bay.

With Jimin's gang suddenly retiring in Taiwan, one of the few countries Interpol had no jurisdiction at and agent Seokjin deciding to get married to an agent from the organised crime department and stepping down from a field agent and the supervisor position in favour for an office one, a supervisor position in the robbery department would soon be vacant.

And Skylar wanted it.

After four years there she'd quite many success stories to list, from leading a joined unit with the narcotics department to discovering several hideouts of bootleggers. But still. "They won't consider me for the position anyway," she said, bitterness lingering in her words, "I'm only thirty and too young, it'd be against the usual custom for an agent this young to become a lead. And I know some are side-eyeing me for my family background. If I really ended up getting the position, people would probably say mother pulled some strings. And besides.." She briefly glanced up at him, before her eyes wandered around the area for any unwanted ears. "..what about us?"

A crease formed between his furrowed brows. "What do you mean?" he whispered, matching her hushed tone.

"I mean," she said, wiggling her index finger between them, "It's already bad enough we're secretly dating despite being partners. But dating while me being your supervisor? That'd be ten times worse."

His lips parted, exhaling deeply. "Oh," he slowly began then, affliction evident in his eyes, "I don't wanna be the reason for you not getting your dream position."

"No, no, you wouldn't, Kook," she quickly objected, shaking her head as she touched his hand. Giving it a soothing squeeze, "As I told you, they wouldn't consider me anyway."

"I'm sure they will," he smiled, "As far as I know, agent Kim was even younger when becoming the team lead. He'll surely put in a good word for you to the higher ups. And I'll also do so, if asked. So?" he nudged her then, "Will you stop being a coward and go to his office now? Otherwise I'd feel forced to carry you inside there. And you surely don't want people talking, right?"

She groaned at his bright grin, knowing he would absolutely do as threatened if needed. It should annoy her, but she knew it was only for her own good. So she eventually sighed. "Fine, no need for your dramatics."

"Good girl," he nodded and turned her around by the shoulders, giving her a light push towards the door. "Good luck, although I know you won't need it."

"You're way too certain about this and I don't like it. You'll get more disappointed than me if I don't get it."

Jungkook straightened himself, staring at her with firmness.

"I know you will though."

»»»

[six months later, set during the sequel]

"Sorry for making you wait."

Skylar smiled when seeing her boyfriend nearing her with hasty steps. Pushing herself off the wall of the underground parking lot to greet him when he pecked her lips as soon as he reached her.

"Iew!" she scrunched her nose with a giggle, hitting his chest playfully, "You're all sweaty! Didn't you take a shower after work out?"

"Ah, no. Since it took more time, I didn't want to make you wait any longer than necessary," he explained, throwing his gym bag over his shoulder and pushing back the raven strands that were stuck on his forehead. "I'll just shower at home."

The blonde hummed, brown eyes shifting towards the ground. "Besides, we said not at work.." she mumbled with a light scowl, causing him to roll his eyes.

"It's literally past office hours and no one's around." He let out an overly dramatic sigh, pretending being disappointed. "And here I thought I finally rubbed off on you.." He held his hand out for her which she accepted with no hesitation and he tucked her towards their cars.

He never took her concerns personally, he knew where they came from after all, especially these past months. However, sometimes she exaggarrated and was a tad too paranoid. At least in his eyes.

"Mine or yours?" he asked then with a raised brow, seeing her shrug.

"Let's go to yours. I don't have any food left in the fridge."

His brows wiggled at her. "Who says there's any in mine?"

Her lips parted, laughing as well. "Didn't you go grocery shopping two days ago?"

"Yeah, and I already ate it all," he grinned, "I burn lots of calories after all."

Frankly, she should've learned in all the years knowing him that this man could eat three full plates of food on his own and yet she still got surprised every time over his metabolism. "Fine, let's order something then."

"Did you finish off all the paper work by the wax?" He unlocked his car and slid inside. Skylar following him by taking the passenger seat.

"Yeah, I did. Wasn't too much after all." She dragged a breath while putting on her seat belt. Propping her cheek on her fist. He started the engine and drove the car out of the underground parking area. Taking a turn, heading west to his apartment. The sun hadn't set completely yet, tinting the sparsely spread clouds in warm evening colours. "She really didn't seem to have any clue about where all the stolen goods might be hid at.."

Musing over her words for a moment, Jungkook eventually nodded to himself. "I'll do a background check on eventual hidden bank accounts and rented places tomorrow."

She hummed, biting down her lips as they curled into a soft smile. "What a diligent subordinate."

Without averting his eyes from the road, he reached for her hand and gave it a light squeeze before leading it to his warm lips. "Gotta impress the boss after all."

Jungkook watched her blush from the corner of his eyes and chuckled under his breath.

It had been four months now since she'd got promoted and he never tried hiding how proud he was of her. Sometimes she pretended getting annoyed, but he knew that she secretly enjoyed it very much and simply wasn't used to it. Especially considering she wouldn't hear these words from her family. At least not her mother who Jungkook had the displeasure to meet, way before they'd started dating. It was only once but it had been enough for him to determine her personality, since Skylar herself wouldn't talk much about her - let alone speak ill of her.

He'd never admit it to her, not wanting to hurt her pride, but he pitied her a lot for that. He couldn't imagine not having both his parents' support hence why he made sure to be the one giving her lots of affirmation instead.

Particularly now with Jimin and his gang suddenly making a comeback in thievery after only half a year of retirement and everyone in the team, especially Skylar as the team lead now, being in a tizzy because of it. Even Seokjin having returned for extra support for this occasion. Not that they minded, they had missed their senior colleague's cheeriness and bad humour.

They eventually reached Jungkook's apartment and ordered food, him ordering a double portion obviously, before settling in front of his big flat-screen. Watching a survival show Skylar didn't really care about, but it was Jungkook's favourite so she didn't mind. It was too warm for her to concentrate on anything anyway. She was at her second scoop of ice cream, unable to cool herself. Not even a shower having helped.

She was sitting beside him, cross-legged and focused on her dessert. Her damp hair was flowing over her shoulders, slightly wetting the collar of her tanktop. A few small streaks framing her high cheekbones. He observed her dark brows knitting together then, struggling with a brain freeze before recovering and going back to digging into her ice cream. And he breathed out a smile.

He was helplessly and irrecoverably in love with her. Probably was from the very first day, even if he'd ignored the signs back then.

"Sky, say.."

She looked up from her caramel ice-cream, leading the spoon into her mouth with a frown as he'd stopped mid-sentence, making him huff out a chuckle. His arm stretched and he wiped away a bit of the cold sweet from her chin. A dragged sigh leaving his lips then, he shifted uncomfortable in his seat.

Uncertain of whether to repeat himself or simply letting go of the knowingly difficult topic, his eyes focused back on the show they were watching.

"Nothing.. just forget about it."

Maybe it was easier to pretend that he didn't want more out of this, always wanted. From the very beginning eight months ago, Skylar had been very clear and he had promised to respect her wishes. And yet, his heart couldn't help but crumble each time they worked on cases together and had to suppress even the smallest display of affection in fear anyone would sense there was more between them than just being team members.

However, despite him playing it off, as he usually did for her sake, Skylar couldn't help but notice the affliction in his eyes. She always did.

It wasn't like she didn't sympathise with him. It wasn't like she never got just as frustrated as him. It wasn't like she didn't feel the same. However, she was scared of losing everything at once if she dared saying anything.

She was one of the youngest team leaders in the history of the South Korean branch office. And a woman and half-foreigner on top of it all. She couldn't risk having her colleagues discrediting her or their work and scrutinise every little decision she made when knowing she dated her former partner and now subordinate.

And yet. there were also times when she thought none of that mattered anyway, because it was him. Because it was Jungkook. The sweet goofball who always had her back and had saved her ass more times that she could count.

Slowly, she put the bowl aside onto the coffee table where his legs were spread onto. Untangling her own legs, she knelt next to him on the couch.

"Hey," she poked his cheek with a pout, tilting her head. "Don't ignore me."

"'Am not," he chuckled and caught her wrist before she could poke him anew. "Just watching the show."

"I know you ain't actually paying attention."

Rolling his eyes, he held her gaze. Unable to dismiss the sorrowful sparkle in her big eyes. "Sky, it's.. it's okay." He forced himself to smile with his lips pressed together. Redirecting his gaze back on the flatscreen before he even had the chance to say something absurd and irrational like suggesting to make their relationship public.

The screen suddenly turned black and his brows arched at her.

"Let's talk about it."

"Is there anything to talk about though?" His voice holding genuine confusion. "I get your reasons and you know I'm supporting you no matter what. I just.." His voice trailed off. Shy eyes found hers again as she was intently listening to him. A faint smile on his face as he cupped her rosy cheek. "I'd love if this thing between us was real."

"It is real to me," she frowned, covering his hand with hers. "Just 'cause we keep it a secret from our colleagues doesn't mean it isn't."

Skylar knew she wasn't as good in showing her affection or romantic nature as he was, but she thought that by now he'd know her feelings for him and that their relationship was more than just a fling or a little after-work affair to her.

The crush she once had - and which that thief had perfectly deducted years ago even if she hadn't acknowledged it - having developed into way more by now. She knew she loved him.

The corners of his lips tucked into a wider smile. Hearing that made his heart-flutter, the validation that this meant more to her as well. "Alright, let me replace 'real' with 'official' then," he said, making her smile as well. And she drew closer to him.

"Alright."

His grin faded, taken aback. "Alright?" he repeated, unsure.

"Yeah, alright. Let's do it. Let's make it official. No secrecy anymore."

"I didn't say that to pressure you. I wouldn't want us to get in trouble at work a-"

"Honestly, screw them!" she cut him off, sitting back with folded arms. "I'm sick of having to fear losing my position just because I love you. It's not like we'd be making out in front of everyone or bicker while interrogating a criminal. We wouldn't even have to tell everyone."

"We wouldn't?"

"No, I checked that."

His grin returned. "You.. you did?"

"Yeah, we'd only have to tell my higher-up and sign some papers. Son from the other team told me a week ago. He had to do it once when dating an agent from division 3. Did you know that? And agent Kim literally married Yongsun from organised crime, so.." Adry laugh left her lips. "I better not catch anyone talking about us."

Jungkook remained silent for a moment, humming as he let her words sink in.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he spoke up then. He didn't sound mad, just curious. And Skylar exhaled deeply, peeking at him before her gaze drifted into the warm night.

"I wasn't sure if it'd be as easy for us, you know.." she admitted truthfully, not being as riled up anymore. "We're not just co-workers and we don't work in different departments or teams. I'm your supervisor. And a woman, so I have to prove myself and all that bullshit." She frowned at her words. "But I'm tired of it all. And it isn't fair to you nor me. We shouldn't have to hide. We're not the criminals here."

Another deep hum followed from him and he glanced at her. She was still turned away, her waves flowing in the night breeze as she was staring out the window. A pensive expression on her features.

"Sky?"

"Hm."

A beaming smile found its way on his lips then.

"You said you love me."

"And?"

"That's the first time you did."

He watched her freeze. In her upsetness she hadn't realised those words slipping out of her lips. She turned around with shocked eyes and he couldn't help but burst out laughing. Her expression instantly softening at the sight. She wasn't regretting saying it, she only regretted the way she had.

"Stop making fun of me!" she whined then, grabbing his tattoed arm and pulling at it in an attempt to make him stop, but it only worsened it. "Jungkook!"

"I'm- I'm not!" he breathed in between of laughing. It was always a hilarious thing to him whenever his collected girlfriend slipped like that.

"I'll take it back if you don't stop."

"Oh yeah, make me?" he challenged her with a smug grin. Seeing her huff, crossing her arms again.

"You're so childish."

"And yet you love me."

Her lips parted, about to defend herself when instead, she got silenced by his kiss. He knew it was the only way to end their bickering.

He pulled back then, brushing a streak of hair away that smelled after his shampoo before placing both palms on her cheeks, squishing them lightly. He was beaming from ear to ear and it was a breathtaking sight.

"Don't worry, if anyone tries messing with you, I'll talk to them. You know how convincing I can be."

Skylar giggled. Yeah, good looks and an easy-going personality made him 'Mr Popular' and he knew when to use it. "I can defend myself," she pouted, "But thank you."

He nodded and was about to lean in again for another peck, when he abruptly paused. Staring at her with a firm yet tender look.

"I love you, too, by the way. In case it wasn't obvious all these years."

THE END

»»»

- hope you enjoyed the one-shot, giving more insight to Skylar and Jungkook and to some events during the three full fanfics

-make sure to check out the other stories as well for full context of this universe!

-a seokjin x yongsun oneshot will also follow soon (hopefully)!

And don't forget to like, reblog & leave feedback!♡ It motivates me to keep writing :)

84 notes · View notes

pandora-writes-one-piece · 3 months ago

Text

The Meet Cute - Ace's Story - 8

Source for pic

Firestarter 8 🔞

Word Count: 4392

Aditional warning for this chapter: There is a scene that is EXPLICIT NSFW. I will mark it with the 🔞 sign so you can skip it if you want. Having said this, your internet experience is your own and you should be acountable for it. You've been warned, read at your own discretion. Thank you!

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader, slight NSFW (It's mature, not explicit), slightly sugestive behaviour, flirting, jealousy, frenemies, sexual tension, miscommunication, unresolved tension, slight angst, slow-burn, romantic comedy vibes, alternate universe modern setting, swearing, drinking, fluff, feelings realisation, denial of feelings.

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You intended to have some alone time, to reflect and heal, but your childhood friend's older brother, Ace, seems to be there just to upset that fragile peace you're striving for. He's a flirt and a womaniser. But why does he also have to be so handsome and perfect? And how long can you resist his charms?

Notes: We took a lot of time to get here, so, for now, enjoy the fluffiness of this chapter, please! 🥰

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn

Masterlist for previous introductory chapters.

The sun hits you in the eyes and you stir. The breeze feels warm against the bare skin of your arms. As you take a deep breath, you are immediately flooded by Ace’s scent. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck and squeeze your arms tighter around him.

He must’ve already been awake because you sense a kiss on your head. “Morning, beautiful.”

You can’t stop smiling and blushing, but you open your eyes to stare at him. “Hi.” He’s also smiling at you and he lowers his head to kiss you on the lips. “You must be so sore.” You murmur, because you both slept on the floor, but he held you against him and forced you to use him as a pillow.

“No. This was the best sleep of my life.”

“Stop being cute.” You say with a smile.

“Can’t. You rubbed your ‘cute’ all over me yesterday.” That elicits a chuckle and soon you're both laughing.

You won’t deny it. Last night was heaven. You used up all the condoms Ace had in his wallet, you cuddled under the stars and made silly promises of always wanting to be with each other. You shared favourite foods, colours, music and movies and your connection is so real that it’s like you have known him your whole life and never spent a day apart from him.

With the light of day you were afraid that this might all have been a dream and that you would doubt Ace’s intentions, after all, he won the chase, he got you.

Yet, he’s still looking at you as if you were the only important thing on the planet. He’s holding you so tight one might think you were about to slip down the mountain. And he keeps stealing kisses from your lips as if he’s afraid you won’t return them.

“Maybe we should get going.” You murmur while glancing at his wristwatch. “I’m sure Shanks already realised what happened, but I don’t want to be late to help him.”

Ace hums and shifts, positioning you on the floor and entwining his legs with yours so he can hover over you. “Five more minutes so I can properly kiss you good morning.”

You smile and nod, closing your eyes and waiting for his kiss, but he swiftly disappears in the middle of your thighs and you gasp. “Ace!”

“I didn’t specify which lips I wanted to kiss.” Comes his muffled response and you arch your back against his touch. Ten more minutes won’t make much of a difference, right?

-*-

You feel a little silly dressed only in your pyjamas, since it's daytime now, and Ace fishes out another one of his used t-shirts from the backseat.

“Do you have an unending pile of clothes there?” You chuckle and put on the oversized tee over your pyjama, tying a knot in the back to make it shorter.

He shrugs and gives you another kiss. “I just keep taking them off and they end up in the backseat. Sorry if it's a bit smelly.” He grimaces. “But, damn, you do make my shirts look sexy.”

Giggling you open the door and are about to enter when Ace sets his hands on your hips to help you up. If that gesture made your toes curl before, now it almost makes you roll your eyes in pleasure. “Ace!” You stare at him from inside the car.

“I can't help it. Your hips are like a magnet to my hands.” He goes for another quick peck, but you turn in the seat and pull him by the neck, opening your legs and letting him nestle against you for an open-mouthed kiss.

He grunts into you as he pulls away. “Stop that, Firestarter, I don't have any more condoms.” You smirk as he pulls away from you and goes around the jeep to get into the driver's seat. “You wanna kill me?”

He's obviously aroused.

But so are you.

So you try to get your mind out of the gutter as you choose a song on the radio and he drives. The mood for the ride this time is way different than before. You are sitting on top of the world.

And Ace is right there with you.

He keeps placing his hand on your thigh when it's not needed on the stick, and you can't stop grinning. You have such warmth inside your chest that you're almost afraid you'll combust.

You're happy. So happy. You don't actually remember feeling like this.

Ever.

You feel the need to tell him how much he means to you, to let him know that, in just a short span of days - that felt like an eternity because you were always around him or thinking about him - you've fallen deeply and madly in love. You've come to the realisation that you simply can't - and don't want to - live without him.

But you're afraid to let him know that already. It's too much for too little time and he's not used to relationships. You don't want to scare him. Even though you're dying to know if what he feels for you is as intense as what you feel for him.

Eventually Ace pulls over at Shanks’ house and you both leave the jeep. Ace says he only has to be at the fire station after lunch so he'll help you and Shanks with chores and you're happy about that decision.

But Shanks doesn't seem too happy.

“Morning, dad!” You greet with a small wave, but the redhead staring at you from the top of the porch only hums and drinks coffee from his mug.

“Good morning Sh-... Sir.” Ace says respectfully and you stifle a giggle. Why is he being so formal around your father?

“Ace is helping us with chores, is that alright?”

He hums again as a response and you and Ace climb the stairs together. Raising an eyebrow at your father, you step inside the threshold ready for a cup of coffee yourself. You'd also like a bath, but that will have to wait until after the chores.

Ace is about to follow you inside when Shanks steps in front of him, giving him a menacing stare and a scowl.

“Dad!” You growl from inside the house. “What are you doing?”

Shanks turns his head your way and finally smiles at you. “Go on inside, bug, I'm just going to have a quick chat with Ace.”

What now? You grumble and turn to go into the kitchen but, as soon as your dad turns, you return to eavesdrop.

“Portgas, explain.”

“Sir, I… what am I supposed to explain? We talked and cleared the air between us. We're fine now.” Ace seems nervous.

“You talked?”

“Uh… I… we… uh…” You facepalm and groan internally.

“You defiled my daughter, scoundrel!”

Why is your father speaking like he's a man from the 18th century?

“What? Shanks?!”

“It's ‘sir’ for you. It will be ‘sir’ for the rest of your life. And you've just lost your privilege to coffee.”

“Ah, Sh-... Sir! I really need coffee.”

Shaking your head you can’t help but think that your father is overdoing it.

“Why do you need coffee? Stayed up all night?” He curses and exhales deeply. “Ace, you better not hurt my baby girl. You see the smile she walked in here with today? You better keep her smiling like that.”

Sighing at your father’s protectiveness, you turn to go back to the kitchen.

“I intend to keep that smile on her face, Sir. Every day.”

The softness with which Ace delivered the words makes you melt and sigh again as you pace into the kitchen and take out two coffee mugs. Filling them to the brim and snatching the plate of pancakes your dad cooked for breakfast, you return to the porch and set the items on the balcony.

“Dad, stop trying to act mean.” You drag Ace to a chair and sit next to him, handing him one of the coffee mugs. He stares at Shanks who simply sighs and enters the house again.

With a heavy sigh, Ace takes a huge gulp of the coffee and you knit your eyebrows together. “Don't let him bully you, Ace. He's just trying to be mean.”

“He's right, though.”

“About what?” The coffee tastes delicious and you hum into the mug in delight.

“About warning me.” He scratches the back of his head and sets the mug down again. “I'm no good.” A sigh escapes his lips as he locks eyes with you. “Look at you, you deserve so much better than me…”

Oh, you are definitely going to kill Shanks. But first, you need to put a smile back on Ace's face. Getting up from your chair and sitting on his lap, you cup his cheeks with your hands and force him to look at you.

“You silly, silly man. You're perfect for me. You're all I've ever wanted and I've never been happier. Don't doubt yourself. You're enough!” Leaning down, you rub your nose against his in an affectionate manner. “More than enough, actually, and you're all mine.”

That seems to do the trick because his cheeky smile is back on his freckled face and he circles your body with his arms, one of his big hands grabbing your butt cheek as he leans in to claim your lips and you giggle into his mouth.

“Hmm, hmm.” Shanks clears his throat and Ace immediately parts from you, raising his hands in the air and looking at Shanks like a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh, come on!” You whine. “Dad, get used to this and stop being mean to Ace.”

“Get off me, Firestarter.” Ace whispers without breaking eye contact with Shanks. “He looks pissed.”

Eventually you lay the groundwork for a semblance of peace between both men, and you get to work helping your father. Shanks asks Ace to do chores on the other side of the property so you don't get distracted and he's right in doing that, because both times you pass by Ace on your way to get something, you two lose yourselves in kisses and embraces, barely getting any work done.

Lunchtime approaches quickly, and the morning chores are done. Ace needs to get home to shower because he has to be at the fire station in the afternoon and you are taking your time to say goodbye to him, by his jeep.

“Thanks for all the help, cowboy.” A sultry whisper escapes your lips as you lean your back against the jeep’s door, your hand lingering on his chest in a soft caress.

His smile mimics yours as he tilts his hat back. That adorable cowboy hat he wears in the sun. His skin is sweaty and glistening from the sun and his freckles make you weak in the knees. Pressing his body against yours, he lets his fingers caress the side of your body before settling on your hip, his thumb slowly circling your hip bone.

“Anytime, anywhere.” You chuckle as he leans in, his teeth nibbling your lower lip before his tongue swipes to ease the sting. Closing your eyes, you moan into his touch and he uses it as a cue to take your lips in a gentle kiss. “Come shower with me.” He whispers against your ear, kissing your skin with his hot breath, a veiled promise of what's to come, should you accept.

Tempting. So tempting.

“Can't.” You exhale. “Shanks is waiting for me.” He grunts and that low vibrato makes your skin perk up with goosebumps. “Later?”

His warm hands and nimble fingers keep caressing you, making promises he intends to keep and you feel your mind fog up with pleasure and yearning.

“Want to come by the station?”

“Hmm, hmm.” You mumble against his lips. “Will you be alone?”

“Yeah, everyone will be at the Jubilee.”

“Perfect.”

Your arms circle his neck and you pull him down for a final desperate kiss. “I gotta go.”

“Me too.” He grunts and you groan but neither of you moves to actually leave. None of you wants to part and stop kissing. Not when it feels this good, when it feels like you're two halves of a whole and you're finally reunited.

“Lunch is getting cold!”

The yell coming from the porch makes Ace pull away from you as if you suddenly caught fire and you can't stop a hearty laugh at the respect he holds for your father.

“You should go.” He says without looking back at Shanks, and you nod, letting go of his neck, but nor before laying another peck on his lips.

“See you later.”

-*-

The first thing you do after having lunch and taking a well-deserved shower, is text Nami. You send her exactly three words and wait: He is good!

Giggling, you pick up the call you knew she was going to make immediately and tell her what happened. You're so happy that you need to share the news.

-*-

Shanks corners you and tries to have a conversation about sexual responsibility and safety during sex and your eyes almost roll out of their sockets once he starts.

“Dad, are you serious? I was going to get married by the end of the year! I'm 25 years old! You can't expect me to be sexually innocent, right?”

Shanks’ blush rivals the colour of his hair and you are quite sure it's a reflection of the blush on your own cheeks. Grunting and turning away from you, seemingly occupied with packing some fruit and water before he leaves for the Jubilee, he adds: “Ace is a good kid, Bug. I told you that. And he told me his intentions towards you come from real feelings, not just to pass the time.”

Softening your gaze, you find yourself smiling. So that's what the two of them were talking about yesterday before you left the house. The part of their discussion you missed.

“I know you're in good hands with him, but I worry…” Shanks closes his eyes as he grabs his hat. Before leaving, his eyes search yours and they seem a bit sad. “I made him promise me he wouldn't break your heart. So you let me know if he does, okay, bug? See you later, sweetie.”

“Thank you, daddy.” Your voice is merely a whisper.

-*-

As promised, after your father leaves and you get ready, you meet Ace by the fire station. Heart already beating out of compass, lips tingling with excitement and a smile that doesn't leave your mouth.

You know he will be crazy about you no matter what you wear, but you can't help but dress a bit provocatively just to see his reaction. Using the thigh-high black socks again, you pair them with a cute little dress, half-expecting him to take in the infinite possibilities of easier access.

This time you use the doorbell, yet he's as fast as he was the first time around and in seconds he's opening the door with a huge grin.

“Oh, look! My food order arrived! I was starving!” You're about to chuckle at his silliness when he hooks his arms under your butt to get you to straddle his lap, and you oblige. Your laughter gets lost within his mouth because he's already claiming your lips on his with a fiery, passionate kiss.

It's as electrifying as the first kiss you shared. In fact, all kisses with Ace seem to leave behind a trail of fire that consumes you. It starts somewhere around your belly and its flames lick and climb and spread all over your body, leaving you numb, sweaty and aching for more.

He pulls a deep moan from inside you with his tongue as he deepens the kiss and you tug at his hair. Desperate fingers find purchase in his dark locks, trying to ground yourself to the here and now because you're already feeling yourself beginning to drift away in the throes of pleasure.

“Fuck, I've missed you.” He breaks the kiss with a raspy voice as he sits you on the back of the couch, hands gripping you tightly and digits protruding the skin. His eyes gobble you up and he almost has to pick up his jaw from the floor as he finally takes you in. “Are you trying to kill me, Firestarter?”

Your legs find purchase against the couch, hands lazily draped over his shoulders and he deems you safe enough to loosen his hold on you. A guttural grunt makes his lips tremble as he runs his hands over your legs and bare thighs.

Giggling, your fingers play with his hair as you lock eyes with him and hit him with your best sultry voice. “Not kill, no. But, perhaps, hinder you enough to take you aback.” Another giggle. “Is it working?”

“Fuck yeah, it is.”

🔞 EXPLICIT NSFW PART - READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION 🔞

His warm hand finds its way to the inside of your thighs, his digits exploring further and finding you already wet and wanting, the thin cloth of your panties barely holding anything back.

“You're already this wet for me, baby?” He coos in your ear and you whine at the sensation his hot touch creates. “Did you think about me as you were getting dressed?” He lays soft kisses along your neck and collarbone and you find it quite hard to concentrate on his questions.

“Hmm, hmm.” It's all you can manage as he pulls the wet cloth aside and drags two fingers on your folds, spreading your slickness.

“What was that?” His tongue teases your earlobe at the same time as his thumb does the same to your clit, and all the sane thoughts you had left in your mind go out the window. “I need a verbal answer, Firestarter. Can you do that?”

No. No, you can't. Because he's thrusting his fingers inside of you and biting at every bit of exposed skin on your upper body, and he's so warm and hot that it's like he's pure fire. And by all the gods, you don't mind burning away into ashes if it feels this good.

“I… Hmm, hmm. Yes, sure, yeah.” You manage to croak between sighs and mewls and the chuckle he releases against your neck makes his lips vibrate and elicit a very shameless moan.

“Are you still here with me?” He claims your lips again, trying to pull you back from the pleasurable place you drifted onto. Unbeknownst to him that such an act only pushes you further.

“Ace…” You whimper. How is it that with a few kisses and touches he has already reduced you to a whimpering, moaning mess, already on the verge of begging for him.

“It's okay baby, I got you.”

That sentence tells you he's almost done with his teasing and you help him get rid of his shorts so he can open the wrapper to the condom. Yet, before he does, you jump down from your perch and fall on your knees in front of him, eager to taste him as you have yet to try. Locking eyes with him, you catch his mischievous glimmer, reading your intentions full well.

Your lips tingle with excitement at the prospect of having him in your mouth, and you eagerly tug down his boxers and also get rid of your panties while you’re at it. “Fuck.” He mutters as you bite your lower lip, practically salivating at the sight before you. Using the precum gathered at his tip, you lather his length with your tongue as he releases a groan and places his hand on your head, fingers tangling around your hair for purchase.

He's definitely bigger than what you were used to, but you love a challenge. Hollowing your cheeks, you suck around him with one hand fondling his balls and the other one stroking his shaft. The sounds leaving his lips are driving you insane and you can't help but release one of your hands from him so you can put some pressure on your clit that's throbbing incessantly.

That action elicits a deep moan from you and Ace pulls out of your mouth before he loses control. “Ah, you're so good to me.” His praises leave you blushing. “Get up, baby.” He whispers as he finishes putting on the condom.

Ace removes the straps from your dress so he can pull it down and free your tits, suckling and biting on the nipples until you’re panting against his ear. “Ace! I need you right now, please, please!”

“There you go begging for me, baby. You know that drives me insane.” He grunts as he turns you and bends you over the back of the couch, spreading your legs with one swift motion. “You want me? How badly do you want me?” He teases the tip against your folds, letting it drag towards your clit and you arch your back to him. His hand slithers and grabs your boob, squeezing it and pinching the nipple as he aligns himself with your entry, just waiting for your answer.

“I want you so much, Ace. I can't stop thinking about you inside me and-... Mmmm, just like that.” You gasp as your nails dig into the plushness of the couch. He's inserting himself tantalisingly slowly and you can feel your walls stretching and accommodating him, welcoming him inside.

“So tight…” He grunts and buries his head in the crook of your neck, as you're still arching back. “So perfect.” As he finally bottoms out, the two of you moan in unison, taking shallow breaths. He slides his hand along your spine, from bottom to the top and pushes you gently forward by the nape, so you return to a bent position. Then he places both hands on your hips and starts to thrust relentlessly.

The burn spreads and scorches and extends its fiery tendrils to parts of you you barely even realised were there. He's so deep within you that it almost hurts, but instead, it's a pressure that feels good and keeps building and intensifying, pulling moan after moan from your lips. “That's it, baby, scream for me, we're all alone.” He assures you.

“God, Ace! I'm almost… Mmm… Ace!”

You can feel his thrusts getting more and more erratic, his pacing increasing and yet you still fall off that ledge before him when a feeling of numbness and overpowering burn courses through you. A panting, gasping moan leaves your lips in shallow breaths and Ace’s arm circles your waist, pulling you towards him, firmly, tightly as his release follows yours with a deep grunt, and his head collapses forward, against your shoulder.

You're breathing in tandem. Shallow, erratic breaths that leave you lightheaded. Or perhaps those are only the effects of the earth-shattering orgasm he just gave you. Whatever it is, you're both recovering. Somehow he recovers faster and, still buried within you, scatters sloppy kisses on your back and shoulders.

“You’re so perfect, so, so perfect.” A chuckle leaves your lips followed by a breathy whine when he pulls out of you. He’s still holding you tightly against him and his hand travels from your waist to your neck and he pressures near your jaw to tilt your head to the side and back so he can claim your lips. “Fucking perfect.” He exhales after your short kiss.

-*- 🔞 END OF EXPLICIT NSFW PART 🔞 -*-

“Told you that one was the first to die!” You point at the screen with a victorious shout as the blonde girl gets slashed in the first ten minutes of the horror movie. “I should've made a bet!”

Snuggling closer, you steal a kiss from Ace's lips. He smiles as his arms circle tighter around you. The loveseat that the other night seemed too small for both of you, now has plenty of space since you're lying on top of Ace.

Your boyfriend?

You haven't labelled it, but he did say he wanted to try a serious relationship. Whatever he is, he makes you happy. Your heart keeps swelling at the tiniest things he does for you. It's so endearing the way he circles his fingers in your hair, or the way he nudges his nose against yours when you're absorbed in the movie.

“Are you hungry?” He asks as his stomach growls and that is another thing you have come to expect of Ace. He's always hungry.

“I could eat.”

“I don't think there are many takeouts open during Jubilee, I think we might have to settle for pizza again.” He mumbles, half-annoyed. “One of these days I need to take you to a proper fancy restaurant. How about that?”

Giggling, you nod as he starts to dial the pizza place's number. “Sounds nice.”

After he places the order, you continue watching the movie, but Ace keeps distracting you with feather-like touches and cheeky kisses and you're bordering on a weird limbo between sleep and wakefulness.

You register the faraway sound of the doorbell, but Ace lifts you up very slowly, settling you back down on the couch and you keep your eyes closed, being lulled by the lingering smell of Ace around you and, oddly enough, the screaming sounds of the movie.

Just like the first time you visited, Deuce takes it upon himself to enter the day room and see which girl Ace is with this time. You hear them as if they are very far away.

“I can't believe you, Ace. She was perfect for you, if you have another one of those bimbos in there with you, I swear-... Oh.”

He must've seen your sleeping form on the couch, especially since you sense Ace approaching and fixing your skirt, which might've been riding up. He then moves away and growls with a whisper. “I told you to beat it, man! Nosy bastard.”

“Well you're right. I'm nosy. But I'm proud of you. She is the one, hey?” Ace’s chuckle is very warm and you sigh with a deep inhale. “But she's freaking hot, I don't know why she wants anything to do with you and-...”

“Enough, enough. Beat it.”

You still hear their whispered voices moving away. Ace sits down near you again, scooping you up in his arms and laying a sweet kiss on your forehead. “You're the one, alright.”

#one piece #one piece x reader #op #x reader #ace x reader #ace x you #modern day au #portgas d ace #the meet cute #portgas ace x reader #Spotify

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imdefinitelyfloating · 9 months ago

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A Perfect Chaos (spencer reid x reader)

Pairing: Spencer x fem! Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

This will switch between Spencer’s POV and Reader’s POV – the first paragraph is Reader, and from there it alternates. I hope it isn’t too difficult to follow along!

The universe can be funny sometimes. It puts us in places we never expect to be, and sets into motion the new chapter of our lives. And I believe that is exactly what happened when I walked into the BAU bullpen on my first day at my new job, 3 years ago. The only empty desk sat across from a man, with his curly golden locks, his sharp jawline, and the softest eyes; I was sure, this was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. I don’t know if I believe in love at first sight, but that’s the only way I can describe what I felt at that very fateful moment.

My whole life, I’ve been trying to narrow down all the things around me to an exact science. But when she walked in that day, I felt something I had never experienced before. I was… speechless. The way her hair flowed, the way her eyes sparkled, the way her skin shone despite the harsh lighting of the BAU bullpen; I’m sure, this was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid my eyes upon. There’s an old Buddhist saying that, when you meet your soulmate, remember that the act to bring you together was 500 years in the making. So always appreciate and be kind to each other. I don’t know if I believe in soulmates, but that’s the only way I can describe what she would become to me.

Spencer and I became fast friends after I joined the BAU. I don’t know if it was intentional or just a simple coincidence, but Hotch always paired us together on cases, we sat opposite each other every day, and even rode all the same trains on the Metro. It’s safe to say we were quickly becoming the best of friends; we’d have Doctor Who marathons at his place, and have sleepovers at mine. Platonic, of course. There is no doubt in my mind that this is who I love, and this is who want to spend the rest of my life with. But I know he’ll never feel the same way, not for me.

Y/n became a place of comfort for me after tough cases, and she’d always be the one to pull me out and lift me up. She was my best friend, and I loved her, in more ways than she could even understand. I still remember the first time we sat together on the jet. It was a long case, and everyone was worn out. I felt the warmth radiating from her as she rested her head on my shoulder. I’m not the best with touch, but with her I didn’t mind. With her, I wish I could stay like that for all eternity. But I know she’ll never feel the same way, not for me.

Sitting opposite the man everyday, I quickly realised how much Spence loved his coffee (or in his case, sugar with a hint of coffee!) It soon became a tradition for us to bring coffee for each other every morning, and to go down to the little coffee shop a few blocks away on our shared breaks. As we’d walk, he would ramble on about Star Trek, and I’d counter back with my love of Star Wars! If there’s anyone who was going to challenge one of my favourite movie series, I’m glad it was him.

Valentine’s Day was always tough for me. To be honest, I was never really bothered by it until I met Y/n. Seeing her almost every day, but not being able to hold her, not being able to tell her how I really felt, it killed me inside. Every year, I thought this time I’m going to tell her. But when I would open my mouth to speak, it was like I’d forget how to talk, how to breathe. Now, three years later, I’m still just as speechless as I was when I had first met her.

February 14th – a day of love. It was meant to be a beautiful day, but for me it was just another day gone by when I hadn’t confessed my feelings to the man I so desperately wanted to hold, and to love. Still, me and Spence both went for our daily coffee break, both pretending to ignore the clearly obvious tension between us. We both had a lot of paperwork to get through, so we ordered our drinks to go. February in DC is unpredictable to say the least; the sun was finally shining through as we stepped into the small café, but as we stepped out, I felt the rain brush upon my face as I looked up to see clouds looming above us once again. And of course, just my luck, I don’t have my umbrella!

I must have forgotten my umbrella at my desk. The rain is really coming down now, so Y/n and I decide to take a shortcut through the park. We’re practically running now, and well, I’m not the most athletic of individuals. I stop at a bench, with Y/n coming back to hopelessly get me back up. She quickly gives in, sitting down on the small, wooden bench with me. The two of us sit in silence as I struggle to catch my breath in the cold Virginia air. But just as I felt my breath coming down to a more normal pace, I heard Y/n ask me the question I had been hoping she would never ask.

“So, Reid, who’s your Valentine’s?”

It had become something she’d ask me each year, always pestering me to go on dates or trying to set me up with one of her friends. But all I wanted to say was “I wish it was you.” It amazed me, a profiler, and she is still oblivious to how I really feel about her. Instead, I just brush her question off and ask her one instead.

“Who’s yours, Y/n?”

It’s now or never. If I don’t tell him now, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. He has to know.

“I wish you were my Valentine.”

Is this real? Did she really just say that? No, she must be joking. She could never love someone like me. I’ll just laugh it off. Why isn’t she saying anything? And that’s when I saw it. I looked in her eyes. She’s serious? This is happening? Oh, this is happening. It’s now or never, she has to know. And with that, I pressed my lips to hers, and we stayed like that. The rain was pouring, the wind was howling. People were shouting “Get a room!” But we didn’t care. You always hear it in children’s fairytales, that when you truly love someone nothing else matters, the whole world stops except for you. I had never believed it until now, but Y/n is my fairytale come true.

As our lips parted from one another, we rested our foreheads together. Magic really does exist, because Spencer Reid is my magic.

Eventually, Y/n and I made it back to work. We were so ready for a trademark Hotch glare, coming back so long after our break had finished. But all we heard was Rossi, “Finally, thank God they admitted it!” I was about to speak, but Y/n read my mind and beat me to it:

“How did you- HOW?!”

Everyone erupted into a fit of laughter, Emily and JJ making pointing fingers and teasing as Garcia literally suffocated me in a classic Penelope hug. And then there’s Morgan patting Spencer a little too enthusiastically on the back, “Pretty Boy, my man!” Even Hotch gave a rare smile as he and Rossi observed the scene. It was a perfect chaos, and in the middle of it all stood Spencer and I, my soulmate and I.

Thank you for reading! 🥰💗

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hueningsloverr · 8 months ago

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౨ৎ 48,300 hours !

pairing: soobin x reader summary: being soobins best friend usually came with a lot of benefits, until a certain point. it also apparently came with a lot of communication issues word count: 1.2k warnings: drunk soobin 💀 (friendly reminder the drinking age in korea is 19! this is not underage drinking!) extra: happy five years to our fearless leader!! moa's love you soob!! apart of my anniversary series!

you met soobin when you were both 18. he was scouted by big hit - by you coincidentally. you were the one who realised the number he put on his form was wrong; it was you who tracked him down.

you were utterly mesmerised by the boy. it was hard not to be. he was everything you were told to look for in an up-and-coming idol.

everything about him screamed 'idol', from his dancing to his smile. and he had the voice on an angel (or so you giggled to your friends late at night over the phone). he was the perfect fit for the new boy ground big hit was interested in putting together.

the only issue was he refused to work unless you worked with him. and so, you got promoted, and gained a new best friend.

years later, and soobin still bragged to everyone he met about you. about how if it wasn't for you, he wouldn't even be an idol.

'i'm serious! she's the one who tracked me down! she's my guardian angel!' he giggled drunkly one night to his friends over the table. their recent comeback - eternity - had gone better than anticipated, and so the leader called for a celebration. kai was passed out on the couch (from exhaustion. not drinking. we don't support underage drinking here!!!)

'soobin! seriously you need to stop telling everyone this. all i did was reach out to you.' you groaned, hiding your face in your hands so the other boys wouldn't see the embarrassment creeping up on you. 'you tell this story every time you get even slightly tipsy!'

yeonjun snickered, leaning over and whispering something in beomgyu's ear. the two boys laughed in their seats, the younger of the duo clutching his stomach as he leant against taehyun.

you never learnt what yeonjun said to beomgyu that night, but it never truly seemed important. at least until soobin started staying out later, and claiming that he was just too busy to hang out anymore.

you suspected he was meeting someone - he wasn't bad looking, and he was nice. it wouldn't shock you that he was seeing someone. but it still hurt. that was the shocking part. the hurt.

you had no reason to be hurt, not really. soobin had every right to date whoever he pleased. no matter how much you detested him it. you also detested whoever out there got to see him in ways you never would - the in love side.

it's not like you were in love with your best friend. you just cared. a lot. that's all there was to your relationship - at least up until he showed up drunk outside your apartment door, barely able to support himself.

'soobin?' you whisper-shouted, eyes wide as you stared him down. what the hell was he thinking?

'yeonjun wouldn't pick up his phone when i called him.' he pouted, a downcast look spread across his face.

you sighed, opening your door slightly, motioning for him to come in. he half stumbled half fell through your entry way, and in some alternate universe your heart would've swelled at the fact that out of everyone, he chose to come to you. yet all you felt was pity.

'get into a nasty break up?' you mused, hooking your arm under his shoulder to help support him. it was no help that he was a towering six foot one.

he laughed at your words, shaking his head as you lead him towards your couch. 'i'm not dating anyone, silly.' he poked, and you could feel his body shake from laughing too hard. you simply nodded at his words, setting him down gently.

'so why're you here? just felt like stopping by?'

'i'm in love with you.'

you paused, your back towards him.

it was just a cruel joke.

he was drunk.

'you're wasted, soobin.' you huffed, grabbing him some spare blankets and a pillow. the other four boys were probably all passed out, and even if they were awake, asking them to make the forty-five minute drive at nearly two in the morning was just cruel.

he never responded. by the time you gathered your thoughts enough to face him and turned back around, he was passed out. you tucked him in, much like a mother would to a young child, and left him in your living room. come morning, he was gone. all that he left was a stack of neatly folded blankets and an excruciatingly long hand-written letter detailing the embarrassment he felt.

you never brought up that night to him. never spoke of his words. you had half the mind to just blame the alcohol. but a part of you hoped there was some piece of him that truly meant his words. but you would never say anything that could possibly jeopardise your job and your relationship with your best friend. so, your buried your feelings and continued on working side by side the tall boy.

at least, not until you were reaching the five year mark of soobin calling you his guardian angel.

"so, wanna go out?" he grinned, leaning over the kitchen counter. you had invited all the boys over, along with a few other friends, to celebrate their upcoming comeback and their five year debut anniversary. "for dinner maybe? we've known each other so long, we have so much to celebrate!"

you stuttered in your movements, his wording catching you off guard. "go out?" you confirmed, eyebrows furrowing as you continued to grab glasses from the cabinet. "your wording is always odd, choi." you teased, turning around to face him.

his face was flushed pink, though he quickly turned away. "you just like making fun of me." he whined, rolling his eyes slightly. "but it's whatever. it's why i love you."

he said those words so casually you felt like you were seconds away from organ failure. it was whiplash. a weird dream. maybe the end of the world?

"what?" you sputtered, eyes wide.

your panic clearly set something off inside of him, for soon his expression matched yours. "what do you mean 'what?'" he gasped, and suddenly it felt as if the two of you spoke entirely different languages. "why are you acting like this is news?"

you shook your head, willing yourself to wake up from the fever dream you were experiencing. "because it is?"

he laughed slightly, though it was not as if something was funny. it was a painful, confused laugh. "i told you i loved you years ago!"

your face fell in that instant. he had meant it?

"you told me you loved me back! i thought-" he paused, mortified. "i thought that meant we were… you know? oh my god! i just assumed you were too embarrassed to talk about it - i never thought that you weren't aware."

now it was your turn to laugh. it was cliché. miscommunication at the finest. "i've loved you for five years soobin." you smiled, moving across the counter to place a hand on his cheek. he was smiling like a mad man.

"you don't even understand how badly i've wanted you to tell me that." he spoke as if a weight had been lifted off his chest, as if he could finally breathe properly again. "i've been in love with you for an exhausting 48,300 hours. you know how tiring it is to love someone for every second of the day?"

a/n: decided to take a crack at the classic 'you didn't know i've been in love with you? we've been dating in my head for like, forever' trope!!

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ultraviolet-psyche · 1 year ago

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Dead On Arrival (F!Chrobin ver.)

Rating: T

Pairings: F!Robin/Chrom, implied Alfonse/Kiran

Characters: Chrom, Kiran & F!Robin

Warnings: Angst; basically all the warnings you'd expect from a Risen King Chrom fic

Summary: Chrom, King of the Risen and the Fell Dragon's most trusted servant, is summoned to Askr.

Word Count: 995

A/N: Once again, this is mostly just some pronoun changes and some slight adjustments in description. Robin doesn't actually appear that much here, so...

Original M!Chrobin ver.

---

Light. Sunshine. Bright. Too bright. Clear skies. Stone floors. Clean air.

A hooded figure. A voice. Unintelligible speech.

"Who calls me?" He sounds as haggard as he looks.

More talking. It's louder. His name? Oh. Yes. His name.

"My name is… Chrom…" It hurts to speak; he's long used to it. "I am the king of corpses. Where I go… despair follows…"

He blinks a few times until his eyes adjust to the harsh light and the blur of colours and shapes in his line of vision form a clear image. The stranger before him is smiling beneath their hood, as though perhaps they're used to fallen former heroes being dumped into their peaceful world. Strange.

"Good to meet you, Chrom," they say. "I'm Kiran, the Hero Summoner. You have just been summoned to the Kingdom of Askr. I understand how confusing this must be for you, so allow me to explain."

They start talking about things that Chrom hardly has the energy to comprehend. The aforementioned Askr. A contract. The Order of Heroes. Wait. That's not right. Chrom isn't a hero. He has no business being here. He can't help these people change their fates.

Go! Tell them! Do not let them suffer our same fate!

His heart, or what remains of it, still aches, sometimes, and it aches now as he thinks back to the last words Robin has ever spoken to him. Robin had momentarily seized control of her own body to tell Chrom to save this strange world that called for him. Why, after all this time, does she trust him to avert the inevitable? Him, a broken corpse, used as his master's weapon to destroy all that he knows and loves, unable to protect a blasted thing. Why – how – has Robin not lost all hope? He wishes he could see her one last time, if only to ask, why him? Why the Risen King?

But, as his master had reminded him time and time again, nothing will ever change, because fate is always set in stone.

To make matters worse, Kiran is now prattling on about alternate universes and different versions of Chrom and the other Shepherds. Different Chroms, different Robins, different Lucinas… different versions of his master. Gods. A world with multiple Grimas is doomed no matter how many Chroms, Robins and Lucinas are there to fight them. The despaired world he's left behind can't even handle one Fell Dragon, so what hope does this world have?

Chrom soon realises that Kiran has stopped rambling. Their hood obscures their eyes, but it doesn't conceal their worried frown. "Is something the matter?"

"Your world… will fall to ruin…" is all that Chrom has the heart to say.

"Oh." There's a brief pause. "Uhh, okay, that's good to know, I guess? Anyway, how about we go to the castle? I have some friends I'd like you to meet."

Chrom would much rather find a secluded area and stay there forever, but the whims of a Risen are of no one's concern. He has no choice but to play along.

---

It's surreal to travel through active, populated villages, packed with buildings fully-intact and dozens of villagers going about their day – moreso when Chrom feels their stares burning into his pallid skin like a flame meeting parchment. The sound of youths laughing and playing in the warm afternoon sun reminds him of his own children – or, rather, his children in a world that allowed them a proper, happy childhood. His heart aches again. He's a failure at many things, but his failure as a father stings like nothing else.

Askr is like a fairytale kingdom straight out of a children's book. The weather is picture-perfect, the birds are singing a sweet tune, and the closer Chrom and Kiran get to the castle, the more magnificent it becomes. It's the polar opposite of Ylisse in every way. Of course his master had no qualms about sending him here; it's a persistent reminder of everything he's lost.

Kiran chats with Chrom about the friends he'll be meeting as they both advance toward the castle. Chrom is only half-listening, merely responding with the occasional grunt, but he does register their names – Anna, Alfonse and Sharena. He notices that Kiran talks about Alfonse in a manner that's more… distinct. The words they use when speaking about this boy are painfully familiar – "other half", "special bond", "bound by ties stronger than fate". Something twists painfully in the depths of Chrom's stomach as bittersweet memories resurface, but he shoves them down, reminding himself that Kiran and Alfonse don't have much time left, anyway.

Once the castle entrance enters his view, Chrom notices a smattering of people, grouped into pairs or triplets, hanging about and socialising with one another. He wonders if these must be some of the Heroes Kiran was talking about.

With one glance to the left, he has to wonder no more. The sight before him is enough to stop him dead in his tracks.

Standing close to each other, adjacent to a large fountain, are a man and a woman, both dressed in light colours and each carrying a bouquet of flowers. The man, who's sporting blue hair and the Brand of the Exalt on his left shoulder, takes a moment to gently adjust the flowers nestled in his companion's ivory pigtails. The woman smiles and mouths a thank-you before leaning in for a peck on the lips.

They are so absorbed in each other's presence that they take no notice of Chrom, the Risen King, looking on in agony. He wants to cry, but he can't summon any tears. If only… If only…

Kiran lets out a long, sad sigh beside him. "I'm sorry you have to see that, Chrom. Come, let's go inside – Alfonse and the others are waiting."

Chrom tears his gaze away from his other self and his other half as he trudges behind Kiran, mourning the happy future that could've been.

#fire emblem #fire emblem awakening #fire emblem heroes #chrom #risen king chrom #kiran #summoner #f!robin #chrobin #f!chrobin #fanfic #ficlet #angst

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rwrbmovie · 1 year ago

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RE: Alex Claremont-Diaz

Quotes from interviews on #RWRBMovie about the character of Alex Claremont-Diaz

This post will be updated as content is released

Click here for the other roundups

Notice something missing? Here's my inbox

Last updated: August 9

From Glamour

“I never imagined I’d read a book with a queer Latine character at the centre—a character who is smart and passionate and flawed and hopeful,” López tells Glamour. “I think having this book in my life when I was younger might have made it a little easier. I knew immediately that I wanted to bring it to the screen.”

“The core of Alex [from the book] is still in the film,” he says. “He's just so ambitious, loyal, charismatic, and smart. That intelligence was one of my fears about playing Alex—he's not playing at it or trying to be smart. That's just how he was raised, how he was educated. I'm not saying I'm not smart, but whew. His brain never stops.” He continues, “With Alex, there's such a growing up process. He's like a man child in a way. He's really impulsive and stubborn, and he's insecure with his parents. His dad's a congressman and his mom's the president. He feels the weight of the high expectations placed on him due to his position, and he struggles with feelings of inadequacy. You see how hard it is for him to balance his personal and professional life. He's had sexual experiences with guys in the past, but he doesn't lead with it. I think it's not even top of mind. He's kissing girls at a New Year's party. And then Henry comes and kind of forces him to grow up and go, 'Oh, I'm really into this.' It turns into love, and his identity and family and relationships become even more important. I love that about Alex. Because who knows? If there's an alternative universe, who knows what would have happened if he didn't meet Henry? What if he didn't find a purpose or a higher path for himself other than just being a powerful politician?”

From People

As for his character, "Alex is driven by ambition and strives for success in everything he does," the actor adds. "He is willing to stand up for what he believes in and is fiercely loyal to his family and friends. He’s also incredibly stubborn, impulsive and impatient."

From Deadline

“One of the reasons I wanted to make this movie is because there was a American-Mexican lead and I wanted — I’m Puerto Rican, and like Alex in the film, I’m biracial. I have a white mother and a Puerto Rican father, and Alex has a white mother and a Mexican father.”

From TV Times

‘When Henry makes a move, it throws Alex into a state of confusion until he realises he really likes this person,’ says Taylor, 31. ‘Alex is on his own journey, but the relationship between the two characters grow until it is a runaway train, and it's too late to stop!'

From BroadwayWorld

I definitely relate a lot to Alex. I think Alex was my way into the story. I have very very little first-hand knowledge of what it means to be a prince. Alex is a person in the world. I am a queer, biracial person from the American South, just like Alex, my mom is white, my dad is Puerto Rican, and Alex's dad is Mexican. So there's a lot of ways in which Alex is sort of placed in the world. I come from working class family just like Alex did. So there was a lot of overlap. And then of course, there's a lot of ways in which we have nothing in common. But those places where we do, I got him and it really sort of, I felt like in some ways I could tell the story through his eyes. Alex was always my way into the story for sure.

From The Queer Review

“When I read this book, even in my 40s, I had never encountered a character like Alex Claremont-Diaz before. It took that long for me to read a book with a character like that, who was biracial, Mexican-American, bisexual, smart, smart-ass, funny, charming and flawed in the best way possible. When I was contemplating making this film, I knew that I was asking for the opportunity to bring that character into the world in a movie. I have never seen Alex Claremont-Diaz before in a movie and it’s really important to me that my first film has a Latin lead at its centre, that the hero of the story, the person who takes us through this journey, is this young, biracial, Mexican-American boy. That’s why I made the film.”

From PinkNews

As he sped through McQuiston's book, it was the character of Alex who immediately struck a chord. Alex is biracial, he's born in Texas, his mother's home state,, but his father Oscar is of Mexican descent. "I'm a queer Puerto Rican, and I think if I had had access to Alex Claremont-Diaz as a younger man, I might have had an easier path in life," López says.

From Windy City Times

It isn't an accident that my first movie has at its center a young Latino lead. It is a character that I have never encountered in fiction or film before. It was important to me to tell the story of this young man and his journey to self-discovery through the love of this prince. Whatever we say in the film about the experience of being Latin in America is very intentional. Conversations with Taylor and Clifton Collins Jr., who plays his dad, were about making sure that we didn't hit people over the head with it. We wanted it to be natural and be evident in the characters within the story. We didn't need to point to it but wanted it to be there and be clear.

#rwrb movie #rwrb #red white and royal blue #alex claremont diaz #alex #matthew lopez #taylor zakhar perez #tzp

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owl-with-a-pen · 1 year ago

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so I read your take on Jesse's pitch with evil Brainy replacing our Brainy and seeming to kill Nia (loved the fic, by the way) and now I'm wondering, would Winn still come back to the 21st century in this universe? Would evil Brainy work with the alternate Winn, separately from Lex? Also, how would the evil Brainy interact with Kara and Alex? What do you think his relationships with the rest of the super-friends were on his Earth? (sorry this is a lot of questions, this AU is so interesting)

First of all, thank you, I'm glad you liked the fic! 😁

This is a real difficult one, because when I imagine this canon-divergence, it pretty much means that I'm deleting every subsequent episode in the season after the Bottle Episode, so I didn't really think about the potential of Winn meeting the evil Brainy.

~*~UNTIL NOW~*~

Considering how those episodes played out in canon and how everyone was carrying the expectation that Brainy would be different anyway because of the inhibitors, it would be very easy for the evil!Brainy to slip into prime!Brainy's role in a similar fashion. The dilemma here, of course, is that the main thing that drives this divergent universe forward is that Nia has just been killed and so the story from that point onward revolves around that.

It would be kind of cool though if Winn did still travel back to the present just after Nia's murder and became involved in the investigation to figure out who did it. We know in the main universe he figures out Brainy's hiding something when he sees him react to Nia putting herself in danger and so I wonder if it would be similar but also sorta reversed here. Winn notices that Brainy isn't acting the way he'd expect from someone who just lost the love of his life. Maybe the others don't want to touch upon it because they think that it has something to do with his inhibitors being so freshly removed, but Winn sees through all that. Maybe evil!Brainy tries to break into Winn's ship to steal something that might help free his planet and that leads to him being busted and ultimately stopped for good. If that was case, I like to think Winn would be the one to interrogate the evil!Brainy to figure out where Brainy is and then, realising Brainy never made it out of the Fortress, he notifies Alex, J'onn and Kara immediately.

I've played around with this evil variant of Brainy before in my fics, usually to give him some form of redemption. That's because my headcanon for him - and continues to be in this canon divergent universe - is that he is likely the closest match to the prime!Brainy out of all the variants that we meet. What I mean by this is that the evil!Brainy has only recently removed his inhibitors as well.

There's this insanely unhinged quality to the evil!Brainy that I really like and it's all centred in his inability to control his own emotional range. Imagine being in a position where you remove these things from your forehead that have been limiting your emotional and intellectual capacity since you were a child - you're incredibly emotionally vulnerable, the weight of every little thing makes you want to laugh or cry or scream and then... Crisis happens. In the blink of an eye, your whole world is gone. All yours friend, your family. You'd do anything to get them back and that's what evil!Brainy does. He doesn't see killing as a morally wrong thing because he's so overwrought with emotion that he only cares about what he can do to feel good again. He becomes so warped and twisted by this that he doesn't even stop to think how the people in his bottled world might react to everything he's done.

I tried to throw in that emotional weight he was carrying by the way he teared up when he killed Nia and how he tries to process what he's done while she's bleeding out in front of him. It's almost like the aligned version of Brainy from the dark!universe, the one who couldn't quite match his feelings to his actions. Evil!Brainy is out of synch in a similar way, but he's also entirely capable of experiencing the full capacity of his emotions with no filter, only release.

I think Alex would be very cold to this evil!Brainy and she wouldn't in any way want to affiliate herself with him or try to see things from his perspective. In her eyes, he hurt her Brainy, he killed Nia. There's no coming back from that. And Kara... I think that a part of her would feel sorry for him. Even though she wishes she didn't, she can't help it, because a part of this Brainy is far too similar to their Brainy, and she doesn't even know how right she is about that yet.

Think about it, the evil!Brainy has killed multiple versions of himself before, so why would he keep prime!Brainy alive? Maybe because he wants him to feel the exact same level of suffering that he did when he lost his family, his world. Because Nia is Brainy's world. In the comics, when Brainy loses Nura he goes to a very dark place to try and save her and I really want to play with that in this canon divergent universe. How close is prime!Brainy, really, to the evil!Brainy, what lengths would he go to to bring Nia back? I think, ultimately, that's what the evil!Brainy was hoping for. To make him just as bad or even worse to justify his own decisions.

But Nia isn't completely gone, so his plan doesn't exactly work out. Nia will be visible to Brainy - only to Brainy - which might make everyone else incredibly worried that he's losing his mind or, worse, travelling dangerously close to his evil!counterpart's mindset, but so long as Brainy can see and interact with Nia, all hope isn't lost. Even if it's hanging by just a thread.

(Oh boy this went off on a tangent, I hope it answered some of your questions.. and maybe some others you didn't ask for too 😅)

#supergirl #brainia #brainiac 5 #nia nal #the bottle episode #winn schott jr #my asks #not writing #anon #thank you for indulging me anon i wanted to get these thoughts out 😂

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fruiteggsaladit · 7 months ago

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I'm so invested in an annoyed Keiko. A fed-up Keiko. A genuinely angry and Pissed Off Keiko. I'm so resistant to her having friends among the Urameshi team bc I want her to have beef with them just so I can feel enriched by her rage!

Mostly I feel it's most logical if she's pissed at Kuwabara for something - they know of each other from school and know each other through Yusuke. The others she knows too little to have strong feelings about (she doesn't even remember getting assaulted and nearly made into a demon by Hiei!).

Him disrupting the wake could have had consequences! What if he managed to knock over the items on the altar? Or even knocked the box so badly that Yusuke's corpse fell out a little? Or what if this was upsetting to Atsuko and Keiko grew angry that he wasn't behaving well (while she was, and she was Yusuke's best and childhood friend.)

She could be pissed off about something "stupid", but I'm very fond of the concept of her being Pissed and Right For It! Especially fond of Kuwabara "All women are queens!!!!" Kazuma having constant interactions w a girl who does not make it a secret that she dislikes him and he can't even say she's wrong for it. He wants to make up for it! But Keiko won't let him because she's uninterested in that.

These started as tags but then it devolved into yyh alternate universes concept so I'm putting them into the main text here:

We need more aus goddamit! #5

Abstract:

Kurama and Keiko know each other before Kurama knows Yusuke through a study group that was a guise for group date possibilities but then turned into an actual study group.

Kurama would be next logical target of Keiko's ire if one was to be making something up, a studious person who goes to a human school in the human world and who she knows through Yusuke and Kuwabara. Do you get more upset if a walrus stole your grandfather clock or if a fairy did it?

She could be upset with him for being smarter than her, and this appearing to be an effortless intelligence. Big fish meets bigger fish in a new pond sort of feeling. Regardless if they both needed to study in academic matters to get the results they wanted, Kurama getting better grades if they had the opportunity to compare could be an easy sore spot for Keiko.

Maybe it could be an after-school inter-school study session.... Noting his good results, Keiko compliments him, and Kurama is being a touch too humble and polite for Keiko's liking, doing the "It's not much, not really" routine four rounds more than necessary, and things quickly devolving from there.

Sudden inspiration from Saiki K: what if Kurama purposefully got himself good-enough grades instead of perfect grades so as to seem more like an average human boy who doesn't want to rock the boat in any way. Oooh, this would definitely piss off Keiko if she ever got close enough to realise! She believes in effort! She would not like this, I think she'd understand if given an explanation and accept it, but she still would not like that. Growing up with Yusuke, her first instinct might even be that Kurama would be getting average grades on purpose for the kick of it.

Kurama would know she doesn't like him or bears some grudge against him, and I don't think he'd mind it very much, but he would be impressed (sweatdrop kind) that she can keep a straight face for the most part while studying with him and the others in the study group.

Surprisingly and somehow that's enough to create a genuine friendship between them, which is a strange but pleasant surprise to Yukimura "You're the only Real One here" Keiko and a balm to Kurama's "my mum is fucking dying" and Hiei's "I'm enslaving humanity and am not noticing you being uncomfortable with it as a half-human with human family".

Does he reach out to her when shit gets real? No, but he won't do that even with Shiori, his mum, or Maya, a presumably childhood friend whose memory pertains to Kurama he erases!!

Boy does it feel awkard though to see her in the Hiei-Yusuke confrontation though! And when Keiko eventually sees him again and can recognise him.

#keiko #yyh things #“hey cant they be friends---” NO. NO FRIENDS. ONLY *ENEMY* (or a slow burn so I can *feel* the “omg we've come so far Sobs!!”)#.... I talked myself into Kurama-Keiko friendship they'd talk so much shit about other people. the Power. Oh my god the power.#i need the same sense from when I'm reading No Home & can appreciate how the characters are choosing to interact w each other #when theyve dealt each other so much harm and shit and theyre both over it and not depending on the person and the mood theyre in #yyh things alternate universes #long post #loud text in tags

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fific7 · 3 years ago

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Fake or Fortune

For @omgrachwrites 1K Follower Celebration - congratulations!

AU: Fake Relationship

Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: This does not follow canon, it takes place in my Alternative S1 Punisher Universe, with Arrogant!Billy in attendance.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, slightly questionable consent, some dom/sub interaction, oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Swearing and drinking.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My Photo Edit)

Karen put a large G&T down in front of you, accompanied by a sympathetic look. You picked it up and took a large sip, sighing as you put it back down again.

“I give up, Karen. No matter what I do, without fail I either pick the wrong guy or else think everything’s fine, and then boom - it isn’t.”

This was a commiseration drinking session, which Karen had suggested after she’d noticed you moping around the office. You both worked at the same big newspaper but in different departments, and became good friends after spending numerous lunchtimes together in the staff restaurant.

“What happened this time?” she asked, then winced as she realised maybe that wasn’t the most tactful way of putting things. “I mean, I thought you and David were getting on really well?” You took a larger gulp of your drink, “Well, that’s the thing - so did I. Until I got the “it’s not you, it’s me” talk on Saturday.” You’d been seeing this guy from your Digital News Content section for a few months, and you’d really thought everything had been on track.

Karen sighed, “Oh lord, not that old pile of bullshit.” You nodded, “Yeah, right. I tried to pin him down to exactly what the problem was, but I guess it was just me, when it all came down to it. In fact, I saw him chatting up a girl from Accounts yesterday so he’s already moved on to pastures new. That didn’t take long, did it? Or maybe he’d already moved on but didn’t have the balls to tell me.”

“Look, I’m meeting up with Frank on Friday night for a drink...” her cheeks pinked up, and you smiled at her obvious pleasure in that thought, “....so why don’t you come along? He mentioned one of his friends might tag along.” You held up a hand, “Oh no! No! I’m not being set up.” She shook her head, “It’s not a set-up, I swear. They’ve got a little....issue.... with Homeland and we’re going to talk about it.”

You knew she’d recently met this ex-Marine called Frank when - in her role as investigative reporter - she’d been digging into some big CIA scandal. When was there not a scandal about the CIA, you thought. You knew she’d met him several times over the past couple of weeks and had detected a more-than-just-business interest in him. “Oh, so.... strictly business, then?” you teased. She shifted in her seat, “Well, mainly.... we’ve also been talking about more personal stuff.” “Uh-huh,” you nodded, smirking, “Karen fancies Frank, Karen fancies Frank!” you sang, while she batted your arm and gave an embarrassed laugh.

“Oh shut up, you,” she said, “...are you coming along or not?”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

And that’s why you found yourself sitting in a neighbourhood bar with Karen on Friday night, feeling quite nervous for some reason. Probably because Karen was fidgeting like hell next to you, and you were picking up on her nervous energy. You smiled over at her, “So you really like this guy, huh?” “No!”she denied, then as you raised an eyebrow at her, “Well... okay, yes I do like him. He’s so sweet.” Her eyes widened as she spoke, catching sight of two approaching figures, “Oh! Here he comes.” A big bear of a man came up to your table, smiling broadly at Karen and then including you in the smile as he stopped beside you. “Hey, Karen,” he greeted her, and she beamed back at him. “Hey, Frank,” and then she introduced you to him. His friend, who’d been partially blocked from your sight by Frank’s bulk, moved out from behind him and said ‘Hi - I’m Billy Russo,’ and shook your hand as he did so. “Nice ta meet ya,” said Frank, also shaking your hand and sitting down in the booth next to Karen.

The man who’d just introduced himself as Billy slid in next to you, and you tried not to stare. He was hot. Like, really hot. Dressed in a smart suit and overcoat, he really didn’t look like an ex-Marine, but Karen had told you that both Frank and his friend were ex-service, and that the friend had opened up a security firm called Anvil when he left the Marines. His handsome face turned towards you, and two very dark eyes looked into yours, “So.... you’re a friend of Karen’s?” You nodded, “Yeah, we just worked together to start with but now we’re besties.” “You a reporter too?” “Nah, I’m a lowly sub-editor on the news desk.” A sudden thought occurred to you, “Oh... and just to reassure you, this isn’t a set-up... you and me, I mean.” He smirked, and you found yourself staring at his lush brushed-back hair and sculpted jaw with its light beard. “Would it have been a big problem if it had been?” he was saying to you, and you shook yourself out of your little trance.

“No, I guess not...” you replied, laughing nervously, “...but I just wanted to get it out there.” He looked you over appraisingly, “Well, I wouldn’t have been disappointed at all,” the smirk got bigger, “....so if you change your mind, just let me know.” This left you speechless but he was still looking at you, asking, “Whaddya want to drink? First round’s on me,” before turning his gaze to the others.

Several beers later, you were sitting listening to the other three talking about a lot of indecipherable nonsense (from your point of view), and you were beginning to get antsy. “Karen, I’m going to head off,” you said in a break in the conversation and she looked slightly guilty, “Oh sorry... we’ve been going on about this for ages.” You shrugged, “It’s fine, Karen, honestly. I’ll see you Monday, okay? Have a great weekend.” You turned to the guys, “You too, and thanks for the drinks,” and made to move out of the booth. But Billy didn’t move. “See you home?” he questioned you, and you saw small smiles on both Karen and Frank’s faces. “Yeah, okay,” you nodded, and then he moved, standing aside as you slid out of the booth. As you headed to the door through the crowd of people, you felt his arm snaking around your lower back. Oooh, very confident, you thought. You’d marked him out as a player as soon as you’d set eyes on him.

“Sorry about the boring shop talk,” he said as you both hit the street, “....me and Frankie’ve got some problems with Homeland right now.” “That doesn’t sound good,” you said as you found yourself being guided around the corner from the bar. “Oh, I was going to take the subway,” you protested, but he shook his head, “This time on a Friday night? Nah.” He pointed towards a rather flashy-looking car parked in the street, “Got the car with me so I’ll take you home. I only had one beer, case you didn’t notice.” “I didn’t,” you admitted, “I thought you were sinking beers like the rest of us.” He gave a low laugh, “I was a sniper in the service, so I like to be aware of my surroundings at all times.” A little frisson ran through you, this guy was quite dangerous, you could tell. As you reached the car, he held the passenger door open for you and you climbed in, trying to be as elegant as possible although you weren’t sure you quite achieved that.

As he started the engine and moved the car out into the flow of traffic, he asked, “So what made you come along tonight if it wasn’t a set-up?” “I was bored. I just split up with my boyfriend of a few months so...” you shrugged. You heard a chuckle, “His loss.” “I don’t think that’s what he thought,” you replied, with a self-deprecating laugh. “Well, it’s true,” said Billy, “...believe me. He must be mad to give you up.” “You silver-tongued charmer,” you said back to him, and again you heard his deep chuckle.

“Seriously, it’s my gain. Look, this might seem a bit of an odd request seein’ as how we’ve only just met...” he began, looking across at you as he pulled up outside your apartment block, “....but you’d be doin’ me a big favour. How ‘bout you come along to this charity event I gotta go to next week? As my ‘plus one’?” You hesitated, and he carried on, “No strings, I promise. Just come along as my girlfriend and be on my arm all night. Help me ward off the attentions of someone I’d rather avoid.” You scoffed, “Fake dating? Really?!”

Much to your surprise, you found yourself walking into your building a few minutes later having just agreed to go to this event with Billy. He’d looked pleased, thanking you for saying yes. And you’d also been on the receiving end of a surprise kiss from him. He’d suddenly leant in, slid his big hand around the back of your neck and pulled you in, his mouth finding yours as he did. The kiss had been short but very sexy and you were still tingling from the after-effects.

He’d laughed at your look of total surprise, and wished you sweet dreams. You’d better be careful, warned your internal guardian angel, he said ‘No Strings’.... remember? So don’t go getting all invested in this guy. He’s a player.... for sure.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy and you had swapped numbers, and the following morning you were pleasantly surprised to get a text asking if you could meet him later that day. Intrigued, you texted back saying you didn’t have any other plans but why did he need to meet up? He came back saying he’d had an idea to help out with the event next week, and said he could pick you up. Feeling like you could be making a big mistake, you agreed so he said he’d be at your place around two.

You made sure you dressed casually. Not having any idea where you were going, but sure it wouldn’t be a date as such, you just chose a shirt and jeans with some suede ankle boots. When Billy texted you to say he was parked outside, you left your apartment and locked up, feeling a spark of excitement run through you as you did. “This is not a date, this is not a date, this is not a date!” you chanted in your head as you went downstairs. Billy, you saw with relief, was also dressed casually in jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket and combat boots. He gave you a big grin as you got in the car, the luxurious leather aroma of the interior filling your nostrils. “What make of car is this?” you asked, being an “it’s a black one” kind of girl. He gave you what could only be described as a smug smile, “Rolls Royce Wraith, sweetheart,” he answered. “Oh, okay,” you said, “....expensive, I take it?” “Very.” “Surprised you park it on the street the way you do then,” you shrugged, and he burst out laughing. “Is it one of those so-called penis extensions?” you asked next, and Billy nearly choked he was laughing so hard.

“Firstly, I take it that means you aren’t particularly impressed,” he gasped, getting his breath back after his laughing fit, “...and secondly, no darlin’, it definitely isn’t one of those ‘penis extensions‘ as you put it. Got no need for one-a those.” You returned his smirk, “Really? Well, I don’t care what car a guy drives,” you said firmly, “...that’s got nothing to do with what he’s like.” He glanced across at you as he swung the car into one of the downtown underground car parks. “And what do you think I’m like?” You looked at his profile as he concentrated on parking the big car in a corner space, “Mmmm... I think you’ve had a hard upbringing and now you’re making up for it. Big time.”

Billy switched the engine off and turned to stare at you, the dark eyes drilling into yours with an intensity you hadn’t been expecting. “Wow,” said Billy, “....you sure you’re not one-a these psychoanalysts or somethin’?” “Definitely,” you replied. “Well, you sure sound like you’ve been analysing me, sweetheart,” he said. You didn’t know him well enough to gauge his mood, and he carried on, “I mean, you got all that from meetin’ me last night and just now?” You nodded, saying neutrally, “I’m just speculating of course... but the expensive suits, the car, and I bet a big flashy apartment too, it just says ‘I can afford this now and I’m gonna enjoy it’ to me.” You were relieved to hear a chuckle as you’d been worried you’d really offended him. “Spot on,” he said, “...yeah, you’re spot on. I think you’re maybe in the wrong business.” You decided to change the subject, “So... where are we going, Billy?” “You’ll see in a minute,” he grinned, “....c’mon, let’s go sweetheart.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Minutes later, you were standing outside one of the expensive and trendy boutiques in the area. Billy’s hand went under your elbow and he steered you inside. “Billy... what’s going on?” He nodded to one of the staff who started making her way over to the two of you. “Look, it was my bright idea to drag you along to this thing, so the least I can do is treat you to a new outfit.” You were shaking your head before he’d stopped speaking, “Oh no, no... I can’t let you do that!” He was nodding back at you - it must’ve looked quite comical to the store assistant, “Oh yes, you will - I insist.” He turned to the woman, “Please can you help my girlfriend pick out an outfit for a formal event?” And before you could say anything else, he’d wandered over to a seating area near the changing rooms and seated himself in a comfortable armchair. “I’ll be right here, sweets,” he said, beaming at you. Girlfriend indeed, you thought.

The store assistant looked expectantly at you and you nodded hesitantly at her, so she led you over to some rails filled with lots of beautiful dresses. “How nice of your boyfriend to buy you a whole new outfit,” she commented, beginning to slide the dresses back and forth along the rail looking for a selection for you, “He’s very charming,” she continued, admiringly. “Yes, isn’t he,” you said between gritted teeth. Truthfully, you were feeling as if you were out shopping with your sugar daddy. But you had to admit that your bank account would’ve been protesting loudly if you’d had to make the purchase yourself, and you definitely would’ve had to buy something new as nothing in your wardrobe was even remotely suitable for a formal event. And he was right, this was all his bright idea. So you’d just suck it up, you thought, however reluctantly.

Eventually the assistant had several dresses folded over her arm for you to try on, and you sailed past Billy to the changing rooms without as much as a glance at him. But you just knew he was staring at you as disappeared behind the curtain.

After twenty minutes of struggling in and out of the various dresses, you had to admit that the assistant had made some good choices. There were three that you really liked, and you finally chose a midnight blue silky sheath of mid-thigh length, an asymmetric one-shoulder-strap neckline and a swirl of sequins diagonally across it from neck to hem. It was tight-fitting but didn’t show off an excessive amount of skin - you didn’t want to have it all out there on show after all.

The assistant had also brought several pairs of shoes to you once you’d chosen your dress, and you picked out a pair of matching delicate strappy sandals. Pleased with your choices, you put your own clothes back on and went out to find Billy. He looked up from his phone as you exited the changing room, a disappointed look on his face, “What.... no catwalk show for your boyfriend?” You leant down and whispered, “Okay, you’re laying it on a bit thick, Russo,” to which he grinned, gently took hold of your chin and softly kissed you. “You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he smirked. Then a horrible thought occurred to you, “Billy!” you whispered forcefully. He looked a bit nervously at you, “What?” “There was no price tag on that dress or the shoes either!” He waved a hand at you, “Yeah? That’s okay, just leave it to me.” “No! That’s not on. I’m going to ask her what the price is.” He jumped up out of the armchair, “Nah, nah! Told ya, it was my idea you come along so just let me do this, okay?”

He set off without further delay to the cash desk, while you reluctantly waited in the seating area. Not particularly comfortable with the idea of him buying you an outfit, you decided that you’d offer to buy him dinner to kind of offset his no doubt hefty bill for the dress purchase. He came back over to you a few moments later carrying a large box in one of the boutique’s carrier bags which he handed to you with a grin. “She’d already boxed it before I could see it so it’s still gonna be a surprise when I see it on the night.” You smirked back, you were quite pleased about that. “Billy, let me buy you dinner as a thank you for the dress.” “Okay, I won’t say no to a free dinner,” he grinned, “...where d’ya wanna go?” You mentally reviewed your bank balance and named a mid-priced restaurant close by.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After a pleasant couple of hours chatting over dinner, Billy drove you home. Debating how to end the night, you came up with what you felt was a decent plan. Not that you were trying to extend the evening of course. That would be just plain stupid as the ‘relationship’ was all a big fake. Remember? your brain asked you. “You know Billy, we haven’t prepared a back story yet, have we?” you said as he drew up outside your place. “A back story?” “Yeah. I mean, if this person you’re trying to avoid happens to ask us - together or separately - about our relationship, we need to be singing from the same songsheet, don’t we?” He looked thoughtful, “Uh yeah, you’ve got a point there.” “OK, well how about you come in for a glass of wine or a coffee and we can get that sorted now?” A devilish smirk appeared, “Plannin’ to ravish me, sweetheart?”

You felt your face heat up with a sudden blush, “No!! Purely to agree on the back story. But hey - we can just text about it if you’d prefer!” Embarrassed, you grabbed your bags, opened the car door and began to get out, but Billy grabbed your arm, “Hey, hey, sweetheart - I’m just kiddin’. Hold on an’ I’ll park up. We can walk up together.” You huffed slightly and closed the car door again, while Billy looked around for a parking space. Once parked, the two of you went up to your apartment and you unlocked the door, waving him inside and over to the sofa while you stashed the bags and headed to the kitchen area. “What would you like? Wine, beer or coffee?” “I’d better just have a coffee,” he said, “...don’t wanna get drunk and pass out in your apartment. Not a good look.” “I don’t see you as a ‘getting drunk’ kinda guy, Billy. You already told me you like to be aware of your surroundings.” He laughed, “You’re right, I don’t make a habit of gettin’ wasted.”

So you switched on your coffee machine and asked what kind of coffee he’d like, holding up a handful of different capsules. He strolled over to you, draping his leather jacket over the back of one of the high stools at your breakfast bar as he reached you. He leaned down slightly and looked at the selection you had in your hand, and you were suddenly very aware of the scent of his aftershave. “Whattya got there, then?” You took his hand and dumped them all in it, saying, “I’m just gonna fill up the water jug while you decide,” and moving swiftly away from him. You were finding it very difficult indeed to ignore the magnetic attraction he was exerting over you, but you really had to try harder as you were only going to end up getting hurt otherwise. He held out a capsule toward you, “Americano’s fine,” he said.

The two cups of coffee made a few moments later, you led him back over to the sofa and you both sat down at opposite ends. “Okayyyy,” said Billy, “....back story then?” You nodded, “Yeah. Nothing too fancy as the less details we have to remember the better.” “Good idea. We should probably add in some truth too. So.... we met through Karen & Frank?” “Yes, that’s a good start. Where did we meet and how long have we been seeing each other?” “Neighbourhood bar, and a coupla months?” “Okay, yeah. Actually is that about it? That was easier than I thought! Or...what else might they ask? Who is this person you’re avoiding - are they gonna be really nosy?” Billy snorted, “Oh yeah! Her name’s Caroline, a spoilt rich bitch. Her father owns a tech company and he supplies some of our equipment. She came along to one of the meetings recently and now she’s stalking me.” You grinned, “And that’s a problem for you? I would’ve thought you’d quite enjoy that, Billy.”

He grinned back, “Are you sayin’ I’m a player or somethin’?” “Well, aren’t you? I’m kinda getting that vibe.” Now he laughed out loud, “Maybe. But I like doin’ the chasing, sweetheart, not the other way round. If she ever got hold-a me, I’d never get outta her clutches.” “What - you wouldn’t? Not much of an ex-Marine then, are you?” He rolled his eyes, “Seriously, this woman’s so clingy she’d attach herself to me like a limpet mine. And I don’t like violence against women so I’d be in a difficult situation. Plus the main thing’s the business link with her daddy. His stuff’s good, I wouldn’t wanna have to replace him as a supplier. So you see, you’re doing me a solid here.” “When you say stalking you, do you mean literally?” “Well, like turning up at Anvil all the time to ‘check on the equipment’ and shit like that.” “So not outside the office then? I’m just thinking along the lines of her not seeing us around together before the event if she’s around you outside business hours. She might not buy it.” “As far as I know, only in office hours.”

“As far as you know? That’s not exactly reassuring if she’s as much of a stalker as you say she is.” He laughed, “No, I’m sure she’s not around apart from that.” “Okay, well is there anything else you can think of that she might ask?” He gave you a sly grin, “If we’ve slept together.” You got up and took your empty cup over to the kitchen sink, “Uh-huh.... well she can ask! We’ll just have to lie, won’t we?” You turned round only to find Billy invading your personal space again, and you moved back slightly in surprise. He followed, crowding you against the counter, dark eyes gazing into yours, “Uh... we don’t have to lie.” You leaned further back, your brain yelling ‘don’t give in to him!’ at you. “Billy... you suggested this whole thing and you also said ‘no strings’, remember? Well, if we did that... that would be strings, don’t you agree?” He reached round you and put his cup in the sink too, “Yeah, I guess so. Just thought we could make things look a little more.... authentic, y’know?” He turned and grabbed his jacket off the back of the stool, but then took you by surprise again by swooping in for a long kiss, pulling you against his body and his big hand sliding around the back of your neck. You pulled away, trying to catch your breath.

Those espresso-coloured eyes were gazing into yours, a lazy grin on his face. “Hey, you’ll need to get less jumpy when I do that else she’s definitely not gonna buy it.” He stood back from you, shrugging into his jacket, “Might need a bit more practice, sweetheart,” he smirked, “....so how about we meet up again tomorrow? We can learn a bit more about each other, as well as you getting more comfortable when I get physical with you,” and wiggled his eyebrows at you. Against your better judgement, you agreed and so he said he’d pick you up at four the next day.

Once he’d gone, you poured yourself a stiff brandy. You couldn’t deny you wanted to spend more time with him, much as you knew you were setting yourself up for a fall. Really... just what the hell did you think you were doing?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was thinking the very same thing to himself as he drove away. He was enjoying those kisses way too much. But he was the one who’d suggested this whole fake relationship thing, and definitely with ‘no strings’. Because that was the Russo Way.

He’d better get his head back on straight, and stop thinking about the gorgeous woman in the apartment back there as anything other than a way to ditch the very irritating Caroline.

He also got the distinct feeling she’d marked him out as a player and wouldn’t want to get involved with him anyhow. Well, he was a player and he couldn’t deny that. Wasn’t sure he could ever see himself as a one-woman man. Caroline was attractive enough and in the normal way of things, he’d’ve taken her out maybe a couple of times, fucked and then forgotten her. But her father and Billy’s business relationship complicated things somewhat.

So yeah, he’d make sure she saw him with a lovely woman on his arm at the gala, kiss (and maybe fuck if he got lucky) the lovely woman at the end of the night and move right along. Apart from anything else, the fact that she was Karen’s friend complicated things way beyond what he wanted to get involved in, because he couldn’t afford to upset either her or her friend, Frankie’d kill him if he did.

Definitely better stick with the Russo Way. It had never failed him before, had it?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The next day, Billy glided the car to a stop outside her apartment block at 4 o’clock as promised, dropping her a quick text to announce his arrival. Soon, he saw her figure walking out of the main door and making her way towards him.

Damn! Mmm, she was looking good. Little pink sundress, short denim jacket, bare legs and low wedge pink sandals. Yeah, really cute. Smart and funny too. And sexy, of course. Very sexy. Totally fuckable. Completely and utterly fuckable. Woah - stop that Russo! Right now!

All these thoughts ran through his head in the 10 seconds it took her to reach the car.

He leant over and pushed open the passenger door for her, “Hi sweetheart.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d noticed Billy’s eyes running over you as you went up to the car, and then spotted his tongue making a swift trip over his bottom lip as he greeted you. You got the feeling he was looking at you like you were a snack to be consumed. Determined to resist how attracted you felt to him, you hopped into the car and said Hi back. Billy’s big hand landed on your thigh as you fastened your seat belt, his long fingers sliding upwards. Batting them away, you continued clipping yourself in and he laughed, leaning across and pulling you to him, kissing you long and slow. Breaking apart, he said, “Remember we gotta practice, sweetheart,” grinning at you. “Mmmhuh,” you nodded, “I remember you saying that.” “Just relax! Get comfortable with me touchin’ and kissin’ you. We’re boyfriend and girlfriend after all.” “Mmmhuh,” you said again, and once more his hand found its way onto your thigh and began stroking, eventually inching upwards again.

This time, you decided to stay still, thinking that yes, you had better get comfortable with this if this whole stupid fake relationship thing was going to work. But when his hand parted your legs and one long slim finger swiftly made its way inside your panties and - without further warning - actually inside you, you jumped like a startled deer and squirmed away from him. “Billy!” you protested loudly, but he merely smirked victoriously at you and pushed a second finger inside you to join its cousin. You shoved at his resistant arm, “Stop it!” His mouth found yours and he began kissing you as his fingers moved steadily in and out of you then his thumb was on your clit, and he began massaging firmly. “Sssshhh, sweetheart, we’re just messin’ around,” you heard his low voice in your ear, “...this is high school stuff.” “But I didn’t say you could do this to me!” you snarled, trying to ignore how good he was making you feel, and you felt his fingers leave you. He sat back in his car seat, taking a tissue out of his jacket pocket and slowly wiping his fingers, looking across at you all the while with a contemplative look on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, but not sounding regretful at all, “I didn’t think you’d mind. Thought it’d loosen you up a bit like we said.” He smirked at you, “You can’t deny I got you wet, and I know you’re attracted to me. Thought you’d enjoy it.” Your mouth dropped open, “You arrogant fucker!” you exclaimed, “You know what, you can take your fake dating shit and shove it where the sun doesn’t fucking shine!” You jumped out of the car, slamming the door with an almighty bang behind you. Stomping back up to your apartment, you opened your front door and slammed it behind you too, angrily throwing your bag onto the sofa as you passed on your way to the kitchen. You took off your jacket and threw it onto a high stool, furious enough to take a bottle of gin out of the cupboard and grab a clean glass from the dishwasher. You were just taking a bottle of tonic water out of the fridge when there was a knock at your door.

Okay, well that was either your annoying across-the-hall neighbour... who complained about anything and everything... here to moan about the door-slamming, or else it was Billy. Whoever was on the other side of the door was going to be greeted by your frowning face, and you really didn’t give a shit which one it was. You dramatically swung open the door, and it was in fact Billy Russo who was confronted by your unhappy visage. He immediately held up his hands in a placatory gesture. “Look, I am really, truly, sorry. I ... can I come in and explain?” You turned on your heel and walked back to the kitchen, leaving him to close the door behind him and follow in your footsteps. “Want a drink?” He nodded, “I’d love a beer if you’ve got one, please.” You took a bottle of beer out of the fridge and handed it to him, then got a bottle top remover for him out of one of your drawers.

He popped off the cap then took a long swig, as he watched you prepare a G&T for yourself. You also took a big sip then leant back against the counter and regarded him with a steely gaze. “You said you wanted to explain.” He took another gulp of beer and began, “I.... look, I’m so sorry okay? I totally misread the situation.” Sipping your gin, you said, “I’ll say you did, Billy! I get the distinct impression you mistook me for one of the easy lays you no doubt pick up in bars. Is that how you treat your one-and-done’s, huh? Well, don’t try that shit with me, okay?” He looked over at you shamefaced and shrugged, “Uhhh...I ..uhh.. yeah, I guess I did.... look, I really am sorry, sweetheart. I can’t apologise enough, and I really didn’t mean to upset you.” You took another big hit of your gin, slightly - but only very slightly - mollified. “And as for your comment that I’m attracted to you...!!!” Momentarily you were speechless, unsure what you wanted to say or how to put it. Mainly because it was the truth, you acknowledged to yourself.

Before you could say anything, Billy held up his hands again, “I’m incredibly embarrassed about saying that. Really crass. And arrogant, as you said.” You noticed that his face had pinked up somewhat. “In fact just forget I said it,” he carried on. “Bit late for that now isn’t it! Did you say it because you’re used to women falling at your feet, Billy?”

He looked down at the beer bottle in his hand, waggling it back and forward before saying, “Yeah. If I’m honest, I don’t usually haveta try too hard.” His eyes met yours, “And if I’m bein’ even more honest, gotta admit I’m attracted to you. Like, really attracted. So, yeah - I was hoping for something more than just going to the charity event with you.”

You drew in a big breath. What? What did he just say to you? No. You mentally shook your head, and then realised you were actually shaking it. “Billy.... you’re a player, that much is blatantly obvious. Would you know what a relationship is if it came up and bit you on the ass? Something tells me you wouldn’t.” He had the grace to look guilty. You continued, “So here’s what we’ll do. If you still need me to come along to the gala, then I’ll do that. And then we’ll go back to being strangers. Okay?”

He twirled his beer bottle between his long fingers, and shrugged, “Okay, sweetheart. M’happy you’re still gonna help me out. But can’t we at least be friends afterwards? Reckon Karen ‘n Frank’re gonna be seeing a lot of each other so we’ll probably keep bumping into each other.” Your face softened into a smile, “Yeah, they like each other don’t they? You’re right, we probably will be spending some time together because of those two. Okay... friends, then.”

He smiled at you, approaching warily and sliding his hand round to the back of your head and up into your hair, pulling you closer. “M’gonna kiss you, s’that okay?” but being Billy, didn’t wait for your reply. His lips met yours in a gentler kiss than earlier, his fingers stroking the back of your neck. He moved his hips against yours, and you knew he’d done this so you’d feel his erection against your body. You moved sideways and pulled away from him, why did he have to make you breathless when you just wanted to be cool, calm and collected around him? He looked a bit crestfallen, but recovered swiftly and asked, “How about we order in some food and just spend some quality time together?” You sighed, “Okay, Billy, let’s do that. But no more groping or anything, okay?” He nodded, looking serious and miming a cross over his heart, “Promise.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You pushed the pizza box away from you, “God, I’m stuffed.” Billy picked up his beer bottle and drank, giving a small delicate burp as he did so, “Me too.” Reaching over, he picked up the remote and began flicking through Netflix, “Whaddya wanna watch next?” he asked. “Mmmm, you pick a movie. But not one about war.” He laughed, “Oh don’t worry, I never watch war films, had enough-a that in real life.” Lying back and letting out a deep breath, you said apologetically, “I bet you did. Sorry.” Shrugging, he also lay back, his head turning towards you, “S’okay. We can talk about it sometime if you like. And about my less-than-perfect childhood. And some of my more recent fuck-ups.” He gave a bitter laugh, “I’m a fuckin’ train wreck, sweetheart - you’ve made the right decision, best you don’t get involved with me.” His eyes looked big and a bit glossy, and before you could help yourself you’d laid your hand on his shoulder, “I’m sure you’re not that bad, Billy.” He turned away from you, looking at the TV before selecting a sci-fi fantasy movie, “Oh believe me, I am,” he said in a low voice.

You shifted a bit closer to him on the sofa, “Don’t be so down on yourself, Billy. You’ve achieved a lot of things... got your own company, fancy car, fine suits, lots of money, prestige.” He grinned at you, “But all that doesn’t matter to you, does it?” You shook your head, “No, but they’re still achievements to be proud of.” His head dropped and some locks of hair fell over his forehead. “Thank you,” he mumbled, and you watched as your hand went of its own accord to his face and stroked the errant hair back off his forehead. His head swivelled towards you, dark eyes gazing into yours; he took hold of your arms and drew you against his chest. “Can we snuggle?” he asked you, then wrapped his arms right around you, before lying down and swinging his long legs up onto the sofa, pulling you with him. You snorted out a laugh, “Snuggle? That doesn’t exactly fit with your ex-soldier or current playboy personas!” “Aw, c’mon sweetheart, gimme a break - I’m tryin’ to be a well-behaved boy here!” You snuggled into his chest a bit, “Okay, but remember - no wandering hands!” He held up both hands, “Not wandering - look!” before placing them chastely on your arm and shoulder.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Your eyes opened, and you groggily looked around you, disorientated. Hearing soft little snores from beneath you, you raised your head to look at Billy’s sleeping face. Oh. You’d both obviously dozed off in front of the TV, the Netflix menu now on the screen. Moving slowly, you started to try and stand up but two hands went round your arms in a vice-like grip. “Where you off to?” said Billy’s deep voice. “Just...ummm... just...” you stuttered, but suddenly you were underneath him, his weight pressing you down as his mouth found yours in a hungry kiss. You knew you should resist but damn, he was a good kisser! Feeling yourself dissolve into the kiss, one of your hands moved up to his bristly jawline.

His kisses became more passionate and he pushed himself against you even more, his arousal very evident. You tried to ignore them but your feelings of desire for him were becoming overwhelming, and your arms went round his neck almost unbidden. He was smiling against your lips, and you heard, “Wanna sleep with me? D’you wanna?” Your treacherous mouth said “Yes!” in a breathy whisper, and that was all Billy needed to hear.

He picked you up in his arms, whispering “Where’s your bedroom?” You nodded towards its general direction and he carried you across the apartment and into your room. Setting you down, his fingers were immediately at the zip of your dress, pulling it down, pushing the fabric down then further down until your dress was round your ankles, before whipping it fully off and dropping it onto the floor. You watched him as his eyes roamed all over your body, taking in your lacy lingerie and moving the straps of your bra off your shoulders. “Mmmmm, sweetheart - wow - even better than I imagined,” he said hoarsely, his hands going round your back and unclipping your bra. He stripped it off you and dropped it, both hands immediately cupping your breasts and massaging firmly, thumbs running over your nipples as they peaked. Moving you backwards until your head hit the pillows, you felt his fingers pulling the fabric of your panties aside and suddenly the head of his cock was at your core and pushing inside you. “No time for foreplay, sorry,” you heard and you gave a deep groan when he kept going, feeling his balls brushing your pussy as he fully sheathed himself. His head went back and he gasped, “Fuck!” before he began to thrust. He lifted your legs and draped them over his hips, encouraging you to cross your ankles on his back to pull him even closer.

His mouth was everywhere on you, kissing you deeply one minute before his mouth went to one of your nipples, teasing it with his tongue while his thumb and fingers toyed with the other, then his mouth and teeth were on your neck and shoulders while he set a ferocious pace. A constant stream of low groans were leaving your lips as he moved on you, and you could hear him gasping and muttering words above you, not all of which you could catch, but you did hear “Uhhh, been wantin’ to do this to ya since the minute we met” between thrusts. You ran your hands over his chest and up around his neck, threading your fingers through his lush hair, and you felt him shiver as you pulled on it gently. His thumb was on your clit now, rubbing at you relentlessly and your orgasm washed over you like a wave. His teeth were fastened onto your shoulder and he bit down as you felt his body tense as he came. He lowered himself gently onto you before rolling off, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling as he got his breath back. “Wow,” he said quietly, before moving onto his side and gazing at you, running a finger gently along your jaw. “Yes, wow,” you replied, putting your hand on his bristly cheek.

“Well, if Caroline does ask if we’ve slept together, now we don’t have to lie,” smirked Billy. This instantly ruined the mood and you sat up, prior to wrapping one of the covers round you and getting out of bed. He looked a bit surprised, but you began moving away from the bed towards the bathroom. Returning a few moments later, you hesitated for a moment before climbing back into bed beside Billy, who was still lying there in all his naked glory. He immediately moved next you, his hands on your arm, “Did I say something wrong earlier? You were up and off like a ballistic missile.” You looked over at him, “A girl doesn’t exactly like to hear another one’s name getting mentioned just seconds after lovemaking.” A guilty look passed over his face, “Awww, shit!... I didn’t think, I’m really sorry... I was just so happy you slept with me, sweetheart.” He stroked your hair away from your face, “Forgive me? And my big clumsy mouth?” You huffed a bit but eventually nodded, not least due to the soft kisses he was peppering over your face and neck.

He breathed a sigh of relief, “I seem to spend all my time apologising to you,” he chuckled, “I’m really making a mess of this fake dating.” “Can’t argue with you there, Billy,” you agreed. “Look, I’m gonna try a lot harder, okay?” he said, running a finger along your arm. You sighed, “Okay... well here’s hoping it’ll be alright on the night.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The rest of the week, you and Billy had traded phone calls and text messages but (to your secret disappointment) the two of you didn’t meet up. To your mind that could only mean that Billy, who’d admitted to you that he liked the thrill of the chase, had now already caught you so that was it as far as he was concerned. He’d said that his work had been crazy busy but you didn’t feel at all convinced by that.

Friday eventually rolled around, and you were glad you’d decided to take a half day off work to get ready. Karen had strolled up to your desk as you were packing up your stuff before leaving, and you recognised her ‘Serious Talk’ look on her face. She walked along to the elevator with you and followed you inside. “Y’know I hope you really enjoy your evening with Billy tonight, but....” she bit her lip before continuing, “...you know he’s a player, right?” She quickly put her hand on your arm as the elevator reached the ground floor, “I’m not trying to spoil your fun, honestly I’m not, but some of the things Frank’s let slip recently would make your toes curl. Billy’s totally ruthless when it comes to cutting women loose.” The elevator doors opened and you both walked out, with you saying, “Don’t worry Karen, I sussed that out the minute I saw him,” over your shoulder as you continued out into the main lobby. You stopped and turned to her, lowering your voice and continuing, “But I slept with him last weekend and just as expected, he’s avoided meeting up with me all during this week.” Her mouth tightened, and you knew you were in for a Page Lecture. “Gahhh! What were you thinking?! You’ve just reinforced his impression that he can pull any woman he wants and then disappear on her! I can’t believe you didn’t even wait for this gala thing tonight! You could at least have held off till then.”

“Yes, mom,” you sighed, then smiled at her. “But you know what Karen, he’s so hot I just couldn’t resist! And I knew exactly what his reaction would be, and he hasn’t disappointed. He’s been in touch obviously because we’ve got this thing tonight, but he’s been ‘too busy at work’ to meet up. I’m sure that in Russo-speak, that really means ‘too busy chasing tail’ but I’m cool with that. Like I said, it’s what I expected,” shrugging as you said this. “Hmmmm,” replied Karen, staring at you intensely as if trying to read your mind, “...well as long as you know what you’re getting yourself into.” “I do,” you reassured her, hugging her before walking away with a nonchalant wave.

Out on the street you exhaled a big breath. If only you truly believed that.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy pulled up outside her apartment block and, as before, texted her to say he was there.

He was disappointed that he hadn’t been able to meet up with her during the week, and was also aware she probably thought he was avoiding her now they’d slept together. But he’d truly been up to his ears in it at work, and he wasn’t yet established enough in the security market to turn down job offers. So he’d taken on probably a few more than he should have done, and both he and Frank had had to weigh in on a couple of them to make sure they were handled correctly.

So apart from calls and texts, he’d had to miss out on seeing her. In fact, all he’d been thinking of the entire week was the prolonged session they’d indulged in last weekend. Once he’d apologised for mentioning Caroline’s name after they’d first made love, (really smart move Russo, he thought to himself) there had been a whole night of energetic and very enjoyable sex. Then a shared shower late the next morning after she’d woken him up with a surprise and very welcome blow job. God, the things she could do with her mouth! He squirmed in his seat, starting to get hard just thinking about it. He couldn’t wait for another one of those, that was for sure. Tonight after the gala if he was lucky!

He saw the main door to her apartment block open and she started walking towards the car. Wish I could get a better idea of how she looked in her dress, he thought. Oh well, I’ll just need to wait till we actually get to the place.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You slid into Billy’s flashy car, tucking your feet in last in an effort to be elegant. He leaned over, grabbing the back of your neck and kissing you long and hard. You eventually shoved him away, exclaiming “Billy! My lipstick!” You peered at his face, “And you’re covered in it!”

He burst out laughing, “Well, hello sweetheart!”

You handed him a tissue whilst you began trying to repair the smudges around your lips. He dampened it on his tongue and then quickly rubbed the burgundy colour off his mouth. Once you’d fixed your face, you leant over towards him and his mouth headed to yours again but you pulled back. “I’m checking your shirt collar to make sure there’s none on there!” Chuckling, he started up the car, “I did wonder why you waited till you’d put your lipstick back on before kissin’ me again.” “You kissed me!” you protested. He just laughed and manoeuvred the car into the traffic stream.

His head then swung towards you, “If you say so, sweetheart! Hey, I’d say you look beautiful but I can’t get a proper look at you in the car. So wait a little while till we get there and then I can compliment you properly, okay?” You nodded, “Yeah, same. I can’t get a look at you either.” Another chuckle, “You can see as much of me as you want later tonight, sweetheart.” “You’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you?!” Billy’s hand stole onto your thigh and travelled higher. “Wearin’ panties?” You tolerated his wandering fingers, “Yes I am, Marine. Sorry to disappoint.” He shrugged, smirk firmly in place, “Fine by me. They’re not gonna stop me gettin’ to where I wanna be anyhow.” Somewhat surprisingly to you, his hand went back onto the steering wheel. “But I’m gonna wait till we’re alone later. See, sweetheart - I’ve learned my lesson!” “Glad to hear it!” you shot back at him, before looking out of the window at the passing streets.

After arriving and parking at the venue, one of the big downtown hotels, you and Billy made your way upstairs to the function room. Leaving your coats at the cloakroom, Billy twirled you round in front of him, looking you over slowly from top to toe. “You look gorgeous,” he said admiringly, “really beautiful.” “Thank you. Not so bad yourself, Russo.” He was in one of his bespoke suits and was looking edible. He mock-bowed then leant down and kissed you on the lips, and you reminded yourself to act naturally when he did that. You both began walking towards the sound of music and chatter, his hand straying down onto the top of your ass as you went. Karen’s voice rang in your ears about how much of a player he was, and once again you fought the instinct to swat his hand away. If you could just do your duty and get through tonight, then you could put yourself deep into protective mode over this handsome devil.

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Several gin & tonics later, you were returning from the ladies’ room and heading back to where you’d left your ‘boyfriend’ at the bar, wondering how much more of this tedious event you could stand, when you heard a high-pitched voice trilling, “Oh Billy! There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Hahah! you thought, this must be the infamous Caroline! Well, at least this next part is going to inject some much-needed fun into the evening.

You could see a small brunette standing in front of Billy with her hands grasping his biceps and beginning to pull him towards her. He spotted you approaching over her shoulder and extricated himself from her clutches saying, “Caroline.... how nice to see you! Just in time for me to introduce you to my girlfriend...” “Girlfriend?!” She whirled round and met your eyes, her own narrowing as she looked you up and down in a flash. You continued walking towards the two of them, noting that she was pretty but was heavily made up; she really didn’t need to plaster it on like she had but - whatever, you thought. Billy moved past her to swiftly put his arm around your waist and draw you to him, introducing you at the same time. She nodded her head briefly at you, “Hi, I’m Caroline. A friend of Billy’s.” She emphasised the word ‘friend’. You beamed back a big smile at her, “Lovely to meet another of his friends,” you said, also emphasising the word. You felt Billy tense up a bit, but you thought that playing the jealous girlfriend might be a good way to go, especially when you noticed the little smirk on her face. You tugged on his arm, “C’mon Billy, you promised me a dance,” you said in a ‘little girl’ voice, which nearly made you heave quite frankly but you felt struck the right note.

Billy raised a hand vaguely towards Caroline as he said to you, “Yes I did, sweetheart. Let’s go. Bye, Caroline - good to see you,” and then gave you a long kiss as the two of you headed to the dance floor. Once Billy had you in his arms, you felt his lips next to your ear and he whispered, “So.... jealous girlfriend, huh?” You nodded, smiling up at him, “She’ll like the fact that I think she’s a threat. But as long as you keep up the PDA’s, I think she’ll buy it.” He immediately kissed you, the hand which had been on your waist surreptitiously sliding downwards at the same time. As you broke apart from the kiss, you caught sight of Caroline glaring at the two of you from a table near the edge of the dance floor. You ran your hand up onto Billy’s jaw before continuing to the back of his neck. You’d discovered during your night together that this was one of Billy’s weak spots, so you trailed your fingers over his skin and had him wrapped round your finger within seconds, just as had happened that other night. He pressed his body close against you, ensuring you felt how aroused he was. “When can we skip out of here?” he breathed to you, making you laugh. “I don’t know! It’s your event - when do you want to stay until?”

Before he could reply, you were aware of a figure next to you and a hand went onto Billy’s arm. “Mind if I cut in?” asked Caroline, giving you a nasty smirk. However it dropped off her face when Billy said hurriedly, “Sorry, Caroline - we’re just leaving,” and began leading you off the dance floor. “Oh, that’s such a shame,” you heard, and realised she was trailing after you and Billy as you left the dance floor. “I was so looking forward to hearing all about how you & Billy met.” You stole a quick glance at Billy before saying over your shoulder, “Through mutual friends.” Still following you both as you headed over to pick up your coats, she rattled out, “it’s just that I’m a bit surprised - it seems quite strange that Billy never mentioned a girlfriend before tonight.” Billy looked irritated but his face became blank as he turned slightly back towards her and replied, “Uh, I am right here y’know!.... well Caroline, we never spoke about our personal lives so it’s not that strange at all to be honest.” You’d reached the small counter by now and had handed over the tickets to the attendant, and while you’d hoped that Billy’s answer would have silenced her, Caroline continued, “So how long have you been dating?” You turned and stared at her, and found her already staring back at you, “Mmm, it’s about two months now, isn’t it Billy?” and moved your eyes to his. He glanced quickly behind him at her, “ Yes, sweetheart - a little over two months actually,” he turned back to you, smiling fondly, “and I gotta say, they’ve been two of the sweetest months of my life.” He leant down and kissed you full on the lips.

Caroline’s lip curled up at this and was still curling as you met her annoyed gaze once Billy’s lips left yours. “Well,” she began, but was then interrupted by a tall older man who came up to the three of you and placed a hand on Caroline’s shoulder. “Hello, Russo,” he said, shaking hands with Billy who greeted him with a “Hi, Mike,” as the older guy’s eyes wandered quizzically over to you. “And who’s this lovely young lady, then?” he asked but before either you or Billy could say anything, Caroline spat out, “His girlfriend, Daddy - imagine that!” However her father merely gave you a friendly grin while Billy introduced you. After a quick handshake, he commented that it was a real shame that you were both leaving before he could buy you a drink. But Billy said firmly, with a mischievous look at you, “Sorry, Mike.... we’re... uhhh... quite anxious to get home.” Mike laughed knowingly while you heard a loud ‘tut’ from his daughter. You smiled brightly at both of them, “Well.... lovely to meet you and hope you enjoy the rest of the evening. Bye!” Taking your coat from the attendant, Billy helped you into it before putting on his own and the two of you said final goodbyes to Mike and Caroline before making your escape.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“Thank god that’s over!” you breathed out a sigh of relief as you settled back into your seat, while Billy switched on the car’s powerful engine and it purred into life. “You didn’t enjoy it?” he grinned, “...even with such a charming boyfriend attending to your every need all evening?!” You laughed, “Sorry Billy, no I didn’t. I hated every second of it! But I think we accomplished the mission, don’t you?” Turning your head and watching his profile as he reversed the car out of the parking space, you asked, “D’you want me to get the dress dry-cleaned and you can take it back to the store? I mean I’ve only had it on for a few hours and I managed not to spill anything down it.” He glanced over at you, a strange look in his eyes. “No, I don’t want you to clean it and return it. It’s yours to keep. And yes, we did achieve our goal.” He started driving away from the hotel, and you realised it was the wrong direction for your place. You’d never been to his apartment but had a feeling that’s where you were heading.

“Where are you going, Billy? I just want dropped off at home so I can get out of all of this and relax.” He laughed, and for some reason you thought he sounded a bit pissed off. “Ahh no, that’s not happenin’, sweetheart,” he said, looking across at you, eyes gleaming with something but you weren’t sure exactly what. Determination? Desire? “We’re headin’ to mine. And yeah, you’re gonna be gettin’ out of those clothes, don’t worry.” “Look, Billy,” you said, feeling a bit uneasy for some reason, “...we’re done here, okay? We’ve already slept together, you got what you wanted so now you move on, correct? That’s your usual M.O. isn’t it? You made that obvious this week. Don’t worry, I got the message loud and clear. I’m not some clingy desperate woman that’s gonna keep chasing after you. I knew what the deal was with you the minute I set eyes on you. So.... just turn around and take me home.” You’d been staring at the road ahead but were aware of him shaking his head, “No.” You looked across at him, “No? What, you’re kidnapping me now?” “You can think of it that way if you like, sweetheart. I knew you’d think I was avoidin’ you this week, but I wasn’t. I’m not ready to let you get away just yet. We’re gonna go to mine, and you’re gonna spend the night on your back - and in various other positions - cos I need another night of sex with you.”

“And what if that’s not what I want? What if I don’t want to be used like a fuck toy before you disappear over the horizon? Doesn’t it matter to you what I want?” He chuckled, and you felt a little shiver of fear run through you, “Not right now, no. Because this is all I’ve been thinkin’ about the whole week. And because you’re sayin’ one thing, but you mean another.” “Really?! That’s what you think?” you scoffed, shaking your head, “You’re unbelievable, you know that? The level of arrogance....!” He pulled the car over into the inside lane and then turned into an underground car park. He killed the engine, and in the sudden silence you heard him say in a low voice, “Call it arrogance if you like. I call it knowing what I want and makin’ sure I get it.” He released his seat belt and got out of the car, coming round and opening your door before taking hold of your arm and pulling you out of it. He locked the car with a bleep of the remote on his keychain, then dragged you - firmly but not roughly - over to an elevator which he unlocked with a key before calling it down. Once it arrived, he hustled you inside and once the doors closed, his mouth was instantly on yours. He kissed you roughly, open-mouthed with teeth and lips and tongue all involved. His hands were undoing the buttons on your coat and then were inside it, immediately going to your breasts.

You struggled with him, trying to push him off but he continued kissing you, and you heard his voice telling you to just admit you wanted it. The awful thing was, you did want him and it annoyed the hell out of you. However his current attitude was also annoying the hell out of you so you continued to push at his muscled, toned body to get him off you. But you were no match for the ex-Marine and you heard a ‘ting’ and the elevator doors opening as Billy continued to kiss and grope you. He pushed you firmly out of the lift, keeping hold of your arm and propelling you towards a door - the only door, you noticed - and then into the apartment after he unlocked the door. He slammed it behind him then was on you in a flash, grabbing your bag and throwing it onto the sofa before stripping off your coat and dropping it on the floor. You were aware of being in a large open-plan space with floor-to-ceiling windows and trendy furniture, before you were scooped up as easily as if you were a throw cushion and carried into an equally large bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him and dumped you rather unceremoniously on the bed, stripping his clothes off in a matter of seconds and letting them fall where they may. Then he was back on you, flipping you over and unzipping your dress in one quick motion. He stripped it down off your shoulders, turned you back over and pulled it off you. You looked up at him, finally finding your voice, “Billy! Stop it.” He shook his head, “Nah, not happenin’ sweetheart. We’re gonna have sex now.” You opened your mouth but nothing would come out. Why couldn’t you say anything else?

Because you do want it, said a sly voice in your head. And whilst the caveman routine might not be the most appealing of Billy’s wooing techniques, he’d excited you beyond belief and you could feel how damp your panties were. You’d told yourself before the evening started that you weren’t going to have sex with him that night, but at the same time had perversely hoped that it would in fact happen. You were absolutely furious with yourself but at the same time, totally conflicted and unable to ignore the desire you felt for him.

You felt his fingers fumbling a bit at your back and then your bra was dramatically whipped off and thrown across the room. His mouth and hands were immediately on your breasts, fingers massaging and toying with one nipple while he licked the other, his tongue roughly raking over its peak and surrounding skin before he started to suck and bite at it, enough to make you squeal but not hard enough to cause you real pain. Then he swapped and your other breast came in for the same treatment. You felt his fingers sliding down your body and pulling at your panties, after a few seconds he then sat up and stripped them off you. They also joined your bra across the other side of the room. He lowered himself onto you, hands parting your legs and you knew he was guiding himself inside you. His hard length pushed into you and you felt the stretch much more than you had the first time you’d had sex with him. Of course he was in a more of a rush this time, seemingly desperate to have sex with you, judging by the way he’d thrown you down, ripped your clothes off and immediately got between your legs.

He slid his hands under your knees and lifted your legs up until your ankles were on his shoulders, deeply thrusting into you as he did so, and you heard yourself give a loud groan. He gave a long, low groan himself as he picked up his pace, and you heard his whispered words next to your ear, “You like that, sweetheart? Feel good?” “Yes!!!!!” you gasped, hating yourself for admitting it but it was the absolute truth. He kissed you passionately, hands running up and down your legs and onto your body as he thrust hard into you, mouth moving to your neck and collarbone, nipping at your skin then licking where he’d lightly bitten you. You climaxed first, Billy’s thumb having found its favourite place on your clit, and you’d dug your nails into his shoulders before running your hands up into his hair and pulling it. Hearing his answering chuckle, his hips cannoned into yours a final few times before you felt him release into you, and he sank down heavily on top of you, panting and trying to get his breath back. He moved off you and laid on his back, seemingly exhausted by his over-eager exertions. His head tilted towards you, “I’m not finished with you yet, sweetheart. Need more.”

You propped yourself up on an elbow, “Just what the fuck is all this neanderthal stuff about, Billy?” He sighed and looked back up at the ceiling. “Remember you said I wouldn’t know what a relationship was if it bit me on the ass?” “Yeah?” “You’re right. I’ve never experienced a loving relationship in my life. I dunno what love is, really.” Then out it all spilled.... his abandonment as a very young kid, the group homes, the abuse, the stigma. How he’d signed up for the Marines as soon as he was old enough, got a business degree before shipping out, how Frank had his back almost from day one. The dark eyes eventually looked into yours, “So just confirmin’ - I’m officially shit at relationships.” You nodded thoughtfully, “Well... now I understand things a little bit better, Billy. You discard women after a very short time as a self-defence measure, because you have a fear of being abandoned again. Ditch them before they can ditch you, right? Because you still have self-esteem issues, deep down underneath that confident exterior. It’s hard to overcome years of being looked down upon and sidelined.” You reached out and ran your fingers through his small patch of chest hair. He flinched slightly so you withdrew your hand, but his own hand went out and he laid it on top of yours for a brief moment.

Then he sat up a bit and stretched, laughing as he did so, “Told you, you’re in the wrong job, sweetheart.” He leaned back onto the pillows, carefully looking away from you, “Guess I didn’t do a very good job of lettin’ you know I want you to stay around and be with me?” You sat up, pulling one of the sheets over you, “What?” you asked. He looked over at you again, “All of this,” his hand waved vaguely between you and him, “This is me tryna let you know I really like you. I honestly missed bein’ with you during the week. An’ I was really busy, me and Frank, all week - I wasn’t tryna avoid you, okay? All I could think about was the night we spent together, how I want that to be a regular thing. Spend time with you.”

You started chuckling to yourself before it bubbled up into real laughter. He’d been looking down and fidgeting with the covers but now his head swung up and his eyebrows pulled into a frown. You calmed down a little and reached out to him, softly stroking his shoulder, “Billy... I’m not really laughing at you. Well, I suppose I am but only because I’m really surprised. That’s not how guys usually let girls know they’re interested! - kidnapping them and telling them that they will have sex with them.” Billy grunted, “Yeah, I realise that. It’s what I’m tryna tell you, sweetheart. I’m shit at this kinda stuff.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Sunday lunchtime, you met up with Karen who was gagging to know what had happened on Friday night. You dutifully recounted everything, even Billy’s metamorphosis into caveman as you left the hotel. Karen’s expression got more and more incredulous and as you drew to a close with his admission of being completely crap at all things relationship-related, she finally said, “Fuck! That’s unbelievable. So how did you leave things? You kick him to the curb?”

You took a sip of your G&T, and smiled back at her, “He wants me to teach him what a real relationship is all about.”

“And you’re prepared to take a chance on him and show him, are you?” You nodded, “Yeah I guess I am, Karen. I know it sounds crazy, but he wants to try. And I’d like to try. So we went from fake to genuine as of Friday night.”

She chuckled, shaking her head and sipping her drink before saying, “Well, you’re a glutton for punishment, I’ll say that for you. And I wish you the best of luck trying to tame that bad boy.” She lifted her glass and you clinked yours against hers, “Thanks, Karen. I’m just gonna take it one day at a time. If it doesn’t work out...” you shrugged, “...at least I gave it a shot.” She put her hand over yours, “Do you think he’ll keep it in his pants? He’s used to putting it about all over town,” squeezing your hand, “...sorry to have to say that honey, but it’s true.” You nodded, “Yeah I know, and all I can say is he’s promised he won’t be doing that from now on. But if I get even a whiff of another woman’s perfume off him, I will be kicking him to the curb faster than he can say ‘it’s not what you think, sweetheart’, believe me! And I’ve told him that too, in no uncertain terms.” She nodded, “Well, you’ve given him fair warning so if he fucks up, that’s definitely on him.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Frank threw his head back, giving a great belly laugh which went on for a lot longer than Billy Russo thought it should do. After a few moments, Frank’s face had gone beet red and tears were squeezing out of the corners of his eyes. Billy folded his arms across his chest, sitting back in the diner booth and scowling at Frank, “Okay, okay, Frankie - enough already,” he grumbled as Frank continued to laugh. Eventually Frank calmed down enough to speak, “Russo! I don’t believe it, I really don’t. Does that girl know what she’s letting herself in for?! She must be missing a few rounds out of her ammo clip.” Billy pulled a face, “Look... I like her, okay? She’s gonna teach me what a proper relationship’s like. She’s willin’ to give me a chance, so cut me some slack over here, will ya?” Frank took a big pull at his beer, “Oh Russo, how the fuck ya gonna keep it in your pants?” (unknowingly parroting Karen’s very same comment to her friend). Billy shrugged, “Look...I will, I tell ya. I mean it, I only want her. The sex is....” he made a chef’s kiss hand gesture, “....and she doesn’t take any of my shit, either. I really like her, Frankie. I think I’m ready to...” “Settle down? Really, Bill - are you? Cos if you fuck this up, you’ve got Karen to deal with as well as your girl.”

Billy took a hit of his beer, “You think I don’t know that? And I’d get a ton of crap from you too, cos Karen’d be upset. You like her, dontcha?” Frank’s cheeks went a slight shade of pink, “Well, yeah. I guess I do.” Now it was Billy’s turn to laugh, “You guess you do? Frankie, you’re like a teenager with a major crush every time your phone rings! ‘Ooh, it’s Karen!’” he said, the last bit in a high-pitched voice. “I do not talk like that!” Frank growled at him, “And you better spend your energy learning how to treat a woman properly, rather than ripping the shit outta me, Russo!”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Your phone dinged and you picked it up, seeing a text notification from Billy on the screen. Turning your phone briefly towards Karen to show her this, you clicked on it and then smiled as you read it. Showing the message to her, she also smiled, “Wow, seems like he’s definitely trying!” You agreed, “I do believe he is!” Maybe this crazy relationship thing you and Billy had agreed to embark on did have a chance of working out after all. You definitely still had your misgivings - does a leopard (or panther) really change its spots? - but you were willing to give it a try as long as Billy stuck to his end of the bargain. No other women, no lying, spending a lot of quality time together... let’s just see how all that goes, you thought. Re-reading the text, it made you smile once more.

Billy’s text said simply, “I’m missing you, sweetheart. Come over to mine, I’ll cook you dinner.”

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(My photo edit)

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Tags: @blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry

(Using D&D’s taglist, if you’d prefer to be removed, just let me know!)

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#ben barnes #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo imagine

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cc-tinslebee · 3 years ago

Text

Okay, so, about a month ago, my brain just conjured up probably the most random au possible: Legally Blonde Adam Banks/banksway au.

Believe me, it's as chaotic as it sounds, but lowkey, I'm kind of in love with it.

Adam never joins the Ducks because there aren't any Ducks to join. Bombay never had to do community service with District Five so there was no one to realise that Adam was on the wrong team all along. He continues to play for the Hawks and, eventually, the Eden Hall Warriors, never getting the chance to become the well-rounded individual we know him as because he's never known anything other than his rich privilege and the "win at all costs" mentality. He ends up going to college on a hockey scholarship and not straight to the NHL or the AHL (shocking, I know). While he's unsure of his major and where his life is heading, he finds solace in the fraternity he joins, which, by some sheer twist of fate, Jesse and Guy have also miraculously joined.

And his life is perfect for a while. He's the star player on yet another school's hockey team, all of his fraternity brothers adore him (though, it took a bit for Jesse to warm up to him), and his secret, not-really-official thing with his former teammate is going swimmingly. (Not to slander my boy, but I was picturing Larson for the role of Warner, purely because the alternative seems to be Rick Riley and that's kind of an unsettling image-- though, maybe that's the point?)

But then his secret boyfriend breaks up with him because, with his high aspirations in life, he needs to be "more serious." And dating Adam Banks, a guy in a stereotypical fraternity who only really knows hockey, in 2001 isn't exactly the white-picket-fence life he's looking for if he's going to be a politician.

And since this non-Duck Adam clearly doesn't have the braincells that canon Adam does, in his devastation, he decides it's a brilliant idea to prove that he is serious by applying to Harvard Law. His parents try to talk him out of it, since they want him to pursue his dreams of hockey, but being a lawyer is a respectable career so they can't exactly argue with him.

He gets accepted thanks to Jesse, Guy, and the rest of his fraternity helping him study for the LSAT and keeping him on track. He's trying his darndest when he gets to Harvard, but (despite his struggle not being as significant as Elle Woods'), not a lot of people take him seriously as an aspiring lawyer, considering him a meathead jock who only got in because of daddy's money.

And that's about the time he meets Linda, who he vaguely remembers from his time at Eden Hall. What he doesn't remember is her being so competitive, because she's deliberately beating him at every turn, just trying (and kind of succeeding) at making him look like a fool. To make matters worse, all of the sudden, she's engaged to his ex-boyfriend, who is very adamant about never telling anyone that he and Adam were more than friends (because, you know, early 2000s homophobia and such).

But things get a little brighter for Adam when he meets Charlie, an undergrad teacher's assistant who gives him all sorts of advice about surviving the school. He introduces him to Professor Bombay, who Charlie claims is the only reason he survived his first year and quickly becomes Adam's favourite teacher, and Charlie's childhood friend Connie, who aspires to be a state senator one day. Charlie's charismatic and even if he's not the most well-liked person at Harvard, Adam feels a weight lifted off his shoulders once he becomes friends with him and Connie. Things become a little easier.

Just before he and Charlie start getting really close, Adam meets Casey at a local diner on a day he's feeling particularly upset and alone, and the two start bonding almost immediately. (He bullshits his way into scaring an ex-husband of hers with legal repercussions he has no idea about and she basically adopts him in return.) It takes him an embarrassing amount of time to realise that it's not just a coincidence that Casey and Charlie share the same last name, which results in poor Adam feeling extremely embarrassed for not connecting the dots sooner while Charlie's having the time of his life teasing him for it. Eventually, when the dust of that settles, Charlie and Adam join forces to set Casey and Bombay up, their schemes borderline ridiculous at times, but they'rere not exactly failing.

And after realising he isn't the Warriors moron she thought he was for going on five years, Linda starts warming up to Adam, which is surprisingly nice? She figures out on her own that there used to be something between him and her fiancé, and is more understanding of Adam than she is mad. Linda actually spills to him the lengths Adam's ex had to go through to actually get into Harvard, aligning more with the rumours about Adam's acceptance being bought than having the aptitude for the law that Linda and Adam share. (This may be me saying Linda and Adam friendship rights, what of it-- /lh)

To make things all the better, Bombay chooses Adam, Linda, Connie, Charlie, and Adam's ex to be on his legal team for a murder case he's responsible for (and while he knows about Adam and Charlie's ploys to hook him up with Charlie's mom, they're his favourites, so he doesn't say anything).

And this is just so much better than anything he had before. After all the initial unpleasantness, Linda and Connie become some of the most genuine friends he's ever had. He misses Guy and Jesse, of course, and he'd never take them for granted, but back when he was with them at the fraternity, a part of him was still being as superficial as he had been in middle and high school. Being authentic for once in his life is liberating.

And Charlie's just about the most considerate person Adam's ever met. Adam doesn't even mind when Charlie teases him over his absurd and juvenile insults because he's just this source of light for Adam, supporting him and always pushing him to be the best version of himself. His ex hardly even exists when Charlie's around because his energy is just so contagious that Adam starts falling for him long before he even realises it. (And when Jesse and Guy come to visit, there's a moment where it all clicks and the four of them realise their history together, however brief. I strongly maintain that they'd be that Starkid meme: "Fucking Hawks? We hated you guys!" "We hated ourselves!" But it does make Adam realise how much better off he would've been if he had Charlie and his team when he was little instead of the Hawks, and it just further makes him understand that people like Larson and Rick Riley just aren't worth it.)

But there's also another revelation Adam goes through. Between helping Casey, his rigorous studies, and his position working with/for Bombay, something just clicks for Adam. He likes being able to help people, fighting for the good guys who may not have the resources they need to be properly defended. Practicing law calls to him in the same way hockey did; it's the feeling of knowing this is what he's meant to do. He still loves hockey, he always will, but it helps him finally grasp that there's a world for him outside of it; when hockey ends for him, there's something equally as rewarding that he can pursue, which was something he never thought he would have.

I haven't a single coherent thought about this au past that point except for these little inklings of an ending--

There's absolutely no SA scene like the movie had; Bombay's just Adam and Charlie's favourite teacher and those are his boys, so he's going to make sure they succeed as if his life depends on it.

With that said, Bombay believes in them both enough to let them finish the case because with their joined determination/stubbornness (and Adam's in with the defendant), Adam and Charlie are a force to be reckoned with and he knows it.

After a handful of comedic failures, they do end up succeeding at their attempts to set Casey and Bombay up, and they start living together sometime during the kids' Junior year :) (All I'm asking is for one (1) story with a Casey/Gordon endgame-- I just think they're neat--)

Linda dumps her fiancé (as she should) and goes on to live her best wlw life as a successful lawyer. (If I'm not mistaken, Linda's actress actually is a lawyer, which is a pretty cool fun fact!!)

Adam and Linda's ex gets the Warner ending because, man, screw that guy /lh (rip to Larson if this is him, I'm sure you'll get a nice endgame in some other universe, king)

Honorary mention for Connie, who was going long distance with Guy this entire time to everyone but Jesse's shock, and they get their Game Changers endgame of State Senator Connie Moreau and stay-at-home dad Guy Germaine with their seven -- sorry, three -- children :)

Adam's an absolute bundle of nerves after graduation, which definitely concerns Charlie. So, when he asks if he's okay, Adam starts nervously monologuing about their time together until he runs out of breath. He ends it by proposing to him, and Charlie smiles so surely at him when he says yes. They both become damn good public defenders and stay engaged until the point they can legally get married, but they're practically husbands long before that happens.

Also, if I did my math right (which I should’ve, it’s my entire basis for my Share Your Address series), the Ducks’ would have the same graduating class year as Elle Woods anyway (2004), which is pretty neat!

Thank you once again for listening to me ramble :)

#i just think they're neat that's all--#full disclosure: i have not listened to/seen the musical yet but I have heard very good things about it #adam banks #charlie conway #gordon bombay #linda the mighty ducks #connie moreau #banksway #charlie x adam #the mighty ducks #casey x gordon

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its-me-im-coraline · 3 years ago

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You're the one // Damiano David // Playlist Series

words // 1248

warnings // none that i can see

pairing // Damiano David x GN!Reader

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list go on the link and fill the form. part two to Drive. my shitty connection from last night is better today so it's a party lol.

i feel kind of bad that my longest fics are smut and everything else is smaller than that but I will try to change that hahah

request // yes

summary // Y/N is better since that drive around with Damiano. While both harbor feelings for each other, both are worried of confessing. Maybe a little nudge from they beauty of nature will give one of them the courage they need.

Not much changed since that late night. Y/N was still not very willing to open up but at least they would get out of that dark and saddening room they had, they’d keep it at least without trash all over. The tears would still come at night when the world was quiet and calm. There is something comforting about that time of day. The world around us is sleeping, there are no expectations, there are no explanations. Yes, it was easier to cry at night. When the owls are pretty much the only ones around to judge; well their little neighbourhood owl was never judgmental, it just sat outside Y/N's bedroom window on a tree, talking and in a sense calming them down.

The situation with Damiano was still a blur in their mind. The man would go in their room, and often, to make sure his love friend was feeling better. Sometimes he would bring food or drinks, always with the intention of keeping them distracted, a tactic that seemed to work perfectly fine on his friend. Other nights he’d sleep over, arms always open and willing to give comfort. Anything… He was willing to do anything to help.

The man knew he was willing to give his life for his friend, a person he very much wanted more than anyone in the world. When he went to bed and when he was out with his friends his mind would always wander back to Y/N, worrying about their well being. Do they want me to bring them something when I go home? Should I send them a text to see if they are ok? Are they crying again? Oh, they’d love that charm over there. I should buy it for them. Everything, his whole universe revolved around Y/N and it took him a second to realise that, although his thoughts layed unspoken, still.

"Come on, carino, let's go, " whined Damiano, attempting to get Y/N out of the house.

"Dami, I told you not today…"

"I have another offer,” he giggled deviously, picking them up and off the bed.

“Damiano put me down this instant!” The words fell on deaf ears as the man had no intention to do such thing, instead walking to the yard.

It was not much but the fresh air and the life of things around them was calming, loving even. “See? It’s not that bad, cucciolo. We can sit here, Ethan has bought some beers -he’ll be fine if we steal two.” And he was right. A beer, a view and Damiano was a perfect remedy to a heartbreak, as crazy as it sounds.

No matter how much they refused to let themselves believe it, Y/N has been starting to get feelings for Damiano, feelings that maybe were there before, but very, very, well hidden that even they could not see.

But no, no Y/N, you can’t feel like this. Damiano is your friend, one of your oldest friends, you can not feel like this. Plus, he would never see you like that. Did you not see your ex- But he said- It does not matter what he said when you were breaking down in his arms. He could never see you like-

“Are you feeling alright?” It’s like he could sense the negative thoughts they were coming, he spoke at the perfect time. Y/N simply nodded yes before looking away into the sky.

It was beautiful at this time. The sun was going to set soon so there were these beautiful purple colors mixed all around. It was relaxing, healing almost, to look at that beautiful show of nature, enough to make you fall in love, or at least to admit it.

Damiano chose to not question it again, for the time being, instead he sat there, alternating his gaze from his love to the sky and back again. To be frank he was dying in that silence between the two. There were too many things he practically wanted to scream but he knew the time was not right. He knew they were not over what happened, they were still hurt from the recently broken relationship they went through. So he refrained from making a move, at least not something big.

“Hey, Y/N?” They only hummed in response, turning their head around to meet Damiano’s. “Why don’t you come sit closer?”

A soft smile adorned their face at the words, their actions giving an answer to the man. Y/N said nothing. They only took their chair and moved closer to him, a comforting feeling falling between them, one that Damiano took advantage of, taking Y/N’s hand in his very own, holding it close and even rubbing it affectionately.

Even then none of the two said anything. They just sat there in the silence, hands intertwined, feeling at peace for a second.

But Y/N’s face could show how they were not at peace. The thoughts from before jumped back to the front of their mind, overtaking the peaceful scenery with emotions of agony and self pity. It simply was not possible, in Y/N’s mind, for Damiano to actually care. And why would he? I’ve been nothing but a pain this whole time. But that could not have been further than the truth.

“You are not ok, Y/N. You’re thinking too much. What are you thinking?”

This time his question was answered with words, in a rare moment of bravery, Y/N spoke up, “What if- what if I told you I-uh-I like you?” They questioned, eyes cast to the floor.

Damiano was taken aback by the question. Did they- were they professing their love or? He was unsure of how to feel and react to those words, afraid that if he said the wrong thing he would scare them away. He truly wished this was a confession, oh how he wishes it was. It would be like a dream come true to know that Y/N reciprocated his feelings, even if it was one third of the feelings he had, he’d sleep happy that night.

“Well,” he spoke after a while, “are you saying it?” Ah, yes, good job Damiano, you are being sarcastic, now they’ll think you’re mocking them.

“Perhaps,” voiced Y/N, gaining the tiniest bit of confidence in their speech, thinking that since they already made the first step they might as well be honest with him. “I am saying it.”

The man smiled, a smile that, to anyone expressing their feelings to him right now, would feel mocking. He has been waiting for something like this to happen for quite a while, and now that it happened right in front of his eyes he truly can not wrap his head around it. His silence was proven murderous to Y/N, that was already diving into the conclusion of what the man thought about it.

“I would say-” he mumbled, with a smile still on his face, “I’d say that I like you, too.”

There it was again; that shy little smile, the one that showed how truly content they were at the moment. The two love-struck people looking at each other with such adoration in their gazes, neither wanted this moment to end. They hoped it could last forever, but in the end, even if it did not, they had so many more moments like that to create and so much time to do it.

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @teenyweenynightghost @superchrystaldrug

@cheese-toastie-11

#måneskin headcanon #måneskin x reader #måneskin imagine #måneskin fanfic #måneskin #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin imagine #damiano david #damiano david imagine

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narukoibito · 4 years ago

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Fic Recs: Angst

Sure thing, Anon! Glad you are enjoying my lists! Though a lot of my recs in general are angsty, so many of these will be repeats from other lists, but I decided not to re-rec every angsty story since that would be too much. Everything I’ve rec’ed before is indented in case you are only looking for new stories. Saddle up, this is a long one. Enjoy!

Anything with * is a WIP.

Canon-Compliant

Realising by @floreatcastellumposts

Missed Moment: Harry realizes he loves Ginny. It’s so painful and heartbreaking. Note that I also list a bunch of other favorite MM by Flo in my All-Time Favorites List though not all are angsty.

22 by @floreatcastellumposts

Harry realizes he has outlived his parents.

the train station by @ink-splotch

An absolutely chilling story of Ginny’s near-death experience in the Chamber of Secrets. The writing, like most of dirgewithoutmusic’s work is riveting. This is Ginny-centric rather than Hinny/Harry-centric.

Post-War Canon

gone was any trace of you by @annerbhp

Amnesia, Married: Again, one of my all-time favorites because I can’t not rec this for angst. Harry loses his memories. Counting this as post-war canon since there’s nothing in this that contradicts it being part of canon.

i just really need you here right now by @annerbhp

Harry and Ginny, like all couples, have things they need to work on. That doesn’t mean they give up.

as the morning steals upon the night by @could-have-beens

My favorite canon reuniting after the battle story.

Chambers by starfishstar

After the war, everything isn’t okay, but maybe eventually it can be. A Ginny-centric post-war story.

Ghost of You by blacktag189

An incredibly angsty story of Ginny suffering from mental health issues after the war and how she comes to recover (with a lot of challenges to her and Harry’s relationship along the way). The author does a good job depicting mental health issues and long-distance relationship challenges.

A Life Closed Twice Before Its Close by tosca

Halloween comes around again, and Harry can’t shake a feeling of unease. I loved how tosca depicts an established Harry/Ginny in this story.

will you stay by NaruKoibito (me)

“So? What was the verdict? Any Veelas?” Harry and Ginny after the war.

Next Gen

Between Walls and Harvest Moons by @ellizablue

During Albus’s third year in Cursed Child timeframe. It’s heavily focused on the Al’s disconnect with his parents. Ginny pays him a visit. There are heartbreaking moments of Harry angsting over his relationship with Al, but I have such a soft spot for Ginny & Al stories, and this one hit all of them.

Put Your Curse In Reverse by @ellizablue

The second part of the amazing It’s Tea Time* series. It is not heavily Harry/Ginny focused, but there is a lot of angst, great Hinny marriage moments, an epic moment where Harry encounters a Boggart that ripped my heart out, and much, much more.

Alternate Universe

The Changeling and Armistice Series* by @annerbhp

You all must know by now that this is my all-time favorite story, but if you need an angst rec, this is it, my friends. There’s angst everywhere, really, but in my head we do everything right has some of my favorite angst ever.

Keeping Even the Broken Promises* by Summer Potter

Amnesia, Harry/Other is a part of this story: Four years after Harry wakes up with no memory, he begins a journey to discover what he left behind and the promises he inadvertently broke.

you will bleed to death from the pain of it by lullabyknell

Soulmark: This painful, amazing story inverts the trope in the best way.

take what i took and give it back to you by fairytiger

Soulmark: Harry decides to breakup with his soulmate.

The World I Leave Behind by NES85

What if Voldemort hadn’t killed Harry in the forest but everyone thought he had? He traps Harry in the Chamber of Secrets – but what happens when Harry escapes? Oh Harry being Harry in this and his scenes with Ginny definitely are gut-wrenching.

Unravel Me* by NaruKoibito (me)

FWB: My canon-divergence story where Harry and Ginny never got together in HBP. After a drunken night, these two angsty idiots wind up in a friends-with-benefits relationship full of agonizing mutual pining.

Angst-Without-A-Happy-Ending

Okay. Okay. Sometimes I dabble in the dark arts. Sometimes I read stories of such pure, unadulterated angst, just to cry my heart out.

Warning: There are several stories below that contain a major character death. I oscillated between marking them or not, but some of them it’s better that you’re not spoiled. So...you’ve been warned that at least these stories below do not clearly end with Harry and Ginny together. Nothing but PAIN ahead!

Without Love by @captainyellowsturm

Every time I read this, I cry. Every time. It’s such sweet, torturous angst. (No, seriously, I really go to reread this when I want to cry.)

Perpendicular by akissincrisis

AU Harry never goes to Hogwarts. This story. THIS story. Ugh, it packs such a punch. Harry never attends Hogwarts, but meets Ginny through a Muggle party. It’s beautiful, so full of hope and possibilities, the what-ifs, the why, whyyyyyyy... I forever wonder why at the ending. But I love this story (even if I imagine a happy ending).

When the Timer Pings by Alchemilla

I read this story 10+ years ago and it still gets me every time. Ginny is about to get married and runs into her ex-boyfriend, Harry. She’s hoping for closure, but is that what she finds?

Lacking by pinkdigi

If Ginny didn’t wait for Harry. Ugh, so painful. I love the author’s style, the hardness of their Harry and Ginny. My heart breaks and breaks, yet I keep coming back.

Couldn’t Keep Him There by Mad Maudlin

Ginny finds Harry after the war. The mood and tone of this really gets to me. This one moment where she puts a wrapper in his hand kills me every time.

Wednesday Dates by fizzmonkeys

I’m not sure whether this is just angst or angst without a happy ending, so to be safe, I’m putting it here. I loved this story so much that I printed and saved it from 10+ years ago.

–––

Want more recommendations? Send me an ask or check out my:

All-time Favorite recs

Muggle AU / Coffeeshop AU recs

Post-War Canon recs

Missed Moments recs

Pregnancy recs

Outsider Perspective recs

Amnesia recs

In Every Universe recs

#fanfiction rec list #angst #all the angst #angst without a happy ending #hinny #Harry/Ginny #Harry Potter #Ginny Weasley #god i really do love those fics without the happy ending though #they're really good!#at breaking your heart #i added a few of my angsty stories if you're interested

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beautifulletdownfics · 4 years ago

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Nothing To Him - A Harry Styles One Shot

Harry Styles is a liar.

He lied your whole relationship.

He promised to love you forever and then he walked away.

A lovers to nothing break up fic feat. blisters, heartache & two sides to one story.

Word count: 15k (Sorry! You’re going to want to open this little pal in a browser window probably. Eek)

Story Playlist:

The First Lie: Damn This Love - Thirsty Merc The Second Lie: Do You Remember - Jarryd James The Third Lie: Nebraska - Oh Wonder The Fourth Lie: I Saw You - Jon Bryant The Fifth Lie: Here We Go - Emily Hearn The Sixth Lie: Crying Dancing - Nina Nesbitt , NOTD

MY MASTERLIST.

The first lie was that you were different.

Harry felt different with you.

You just slipped into his routine and his life. You didn't buy into the spectacle of it all. You told him on your first date that you didn't play games, and that it wasn't often you connected with someone on an intellectual or emotional level. Harry sat there and listened to the woman across from him say she didn't expect to finish the date still attracted to him.

And he fucking loved it.

The next morning he called you at quarter past eight, because he figured you either started work at eight-thirty or nine o'clock, so he'd catch you on your commute or just before you walked into the office. You answered your phone like you would a business call. He teased you for it, but really he was just glad you answered at all. It felt like getting test results telling Harry he was in the clear.

The truth was when Harry first met you at the birthday party the night before he'd been angling towards you being a hookup. He saw you across the bar as soon as he arrived, gaze zeroing in on your legs in That Dress, his ears leaning to the sound of your laugh pulling eyes from around the room. Harry wanted you, and he'd been through a bit of a dry spell. You radiated the kind of energy Harry could get drunk on, the sort of body he wanted to lose himself in for a night.

It was almost an hour before he managed to edge into the same circle of bodies as you. You knew the birthday girl the same way he did; through work. Harry caught early on that you didn't still work for his record label, but did a few years before and stayed in touch with everyone. You seemed like the kind of person who collected people, who everyone wanted to keep in touch with. Harry just wanted to touch you.

Two tequilas in he got you to himself.

You were good at flirting, which excited Harry initially. You had a quip for everything or an interesting addition to each story he told. You were well-read and well-travelled, and you weren't hesitant in showing Harry that you had opinions and ideas of your own. Over the years he'd become good at getting people to talk, good at asking questions that make someone share themselves because the alternative—Harry sharing himself—wasn't something he could do. But something about you and the way you framed questions made Harry feel like it was safe to share a little more, you'd disarmed him quietly, and by the time he noticed Harry didn't feel the need to protect himself anymore.

"That's bullshit," you'd told him when he said he wasn't all that into contemporary fiction. You hated the artsy elites who listed off the Hemingway's and the Kerouac's and the Vonnegut's as though the only literature worth mentioning came from lifetimes ago. Your hair swished back and forth at your cheeks as you shook your head emphatically, "You're being lazy. Imagine saying the same about modern music."

Harry's lips ticked up into a smile, and he raised his eyebrow in concession, "That would be bullshit," he agreed, thinking of the album he'd just released and how he wanted to know if you'd listened to any of his stuff. (Very quickly he decided he probably didn't want to know because it stuck Harry the answer would be no.) His eyes couldn't pull away from watching your lips as you spoke, admiring the shade of lipstick you wore.

"Right," you continued, "Modern fiction teaches me about myself, about my life. It gives words to what my friends and I are experiencing. The classics are amazing—don't get me wrong—but I don't see myself in them."

"Seems like your criteria stem from narcissism," Harry was sure he had you there. He grinned at you happily.

"Exactly," you agreed without hesitation, "Maybe 'Hills Like White Elephants' is genius, and as a woman, I should be grateful to Hemmingway for horrifying his audience in 1927 with a normalised view of abortion but … I don't think he wrote that for me. He was challenging ideas then. I feel more connection and loyalty to an Instagram poet who's painting the world that actually matters to me, the world I'm trying to survive now."

Harry hums into his drink and says nothing. He expects you to back away a little, or ask him some question that watered-down your view and opened up the table to his. But you don't. You let your view sit on the slice of the bar between you and don't apologise for it.

"There's a reason artists burst out of every generation," you add, sitting forward on your stool. "If the classics were the perfect form, the perfect commentary of humanity, then there'd be no need for anyone after them to bother trying to put the world and life into words, or pictures, or music. You can't just dismiss a generation of voices because some smelly, old, white, university hasn't decided to name a building after them yet. I don't think being published as a little orange Penguin Classic is the singular hallmark to good literature."

He didn't entirely agree with you, (he thought it was vital to learn from the past, thought those great authors you reeled off and dismissed set the benchmark artists today should aspire to) but Harry liked hearing your thoughts and seeing the passion burst out of you. He liked seeing how you didn't second guess yourself or try to soften your opinion by asking for his. You just said what you thought, and that was always one of his favourite characteristics in a person.

That night you met him, you were the designated driver for a few of your friends. He should have noticed the way you switched to pineapple juice after you finished your first drink, but he was too busy trying not to look at the curve of your thigh when you crossed one leg over the other. Trying to ignore the smell of your perfume or how you kept licking your lips and he wanted to taste them, desperately. Harry didn't like to say anything when he offered to buy you another gin and dry. Still, when it eventually came out in conversation—that you were strictly only having one tonight—he felt his excitement deflate. His warm buzz suddenly felt pervy and presumptuous.

"Well, that's bloody annoying, isn't it?"

His response surprised you, "Me getting my friends home alive?"

With his hand comfortably resting over your knee, Harry shook his head, "I was hoping to go home with you."

"Oh."

You blinked at him, not having expected him to be so bold. You didn't hate it though, you felt the twinge of realising you were going to miss something that could have been good. Could have been great, probably. The last time you had sex had been … sad. And disappointing. Still, you hadn't come out to meet anyone tonight, why the sudden rush of despondency? These were old work colleagues you rarely saw, and you figured it would be a night of catching up before six months of not seeing each other because life got in the way.

Then Harry asked for your number. Asked if you'd go out with him the next night. He didn't beat around the bush with it, he wanted to see you again and told you so. The way you said you would filled him with relief but also fear. Harry knew he'd need to really deliver with you, he couldn't half-arse it. He was terrified he'd overshoot it and lose the change to be someone who impressed you.

He settled on a Sunday evening picnic where the two of you ate takeaway on a beach towel at the top of a park halfway between your houses. Something told Harry you would be happier with him underplaying the date than you would be getting taken to an expensive, showy restaurant. You wore jean shorts and a long sleeve jumper which churned his body more deeply than the dress with the split from the night before. He was hooked.

"Do you not like olives?" Harry asked, sucking the oil off his fingers after just depositing one into his mouth. You instantly loved the way the inflection of his words rose at the end of his sentences, and you'd mock him for it your whole relationship.

You looked at the plastic container sitting between you, you'd been picking at the cheese and crackers, the antipasto was not your thing, "They don't seem like something humans should eat … Salty and rubbery with a tiny stone on the inside? No, thanks."

A laugh burst out of Harry's mouth as he picked up another green olive, "More for me then."

"I'm happy about the rosemary in these though," you held up a cracker before digging it into the hummus, a plastic-stemmed wine glass with a dry rose in your free hand, "You got the fancy ones."

"Only the best," Harry returned with a smile and then went on trying to playfully wedge more information from you about the secret poetry Instagram he was convinced you had. He was already feeling buzzed from the wine, but more from the way you kept looking at him and he couldn't catch a hint of you being anything other than yourself.

You didn't go home together that night either, despite The Kiss at the end next to his car. Despite Harry's hands on the back of your thighs as things got heated. The way the tips of his fingers feathered against the elastic of your knickers, just slipping under before pulling away. Your chests heaving together in a rhythm you'd never found with anyone else.

He felt like he had just auditioned for a part he wasn't sure yet that you were going to give him. Wine always heightened his anxiety, so Harry also wanted to appear controlled and measured. He wanted to be as thoughtful as you were. As connected to himself as you were to all your wonderful opinions and facts. There was some part of him that feared taking you home too soon might risk that being the only night Harry got. So he pulled away, kissed your cheek and promised to call you later on.

Somewhere along the line, Harry decided he wanted more than a little bit. He was greedy. Harry wanted the whole pie all to himself.

That was a theme, him wanting more. Even now, months since you've seen or heard from him. Harry always knew how to get you to take that one step out of your comfort zone, take that little bit extra risk. Letting go of him in one way felt like small release valve finally letting go. A tiny bit of your safety net tucking closer around you. A little quiet moment to take stock and check every part of you was still connected, still there. A deep breath in. A short pause of calming silence. Like getting your heart back … But then finding it didn't fit in your chest the same way anymore.

So you found it particularly cruel to have received a follow-up email from his assistant this week, checking to see if you were able to attend his show tonight.

The show that six months ago Harry drew you a mock ticket for and hand-delivered to you sitting outside in his garden with a tea and a biscuit. Even then, even as his girlfriend, you'd feigned not knowing if you could say whether you would attend. Now it felt foreboding, the way you'd pulled your features together thoughtfully and told Harry you'd have to see closer to the date. You waited just long enough for him to switch over into thinking you were serious before you laughed and told him of course and where else would I be?

Where else would I be, was right, in a sense. Because this is still your city, and you're here tonight. It's not his anymore. He moved soon after you broke up … Relocated to one of his—what was it you used to mockingly call them?—" location" homes. Houses you never saw in person. Places he never took you. Either Italy or France. Somewhere he could hide, be creative, recenter himself. All three of those things filled you with dread for different reasons.

Were you really going to go tonight though? Walk in through the front door of the venue with a ticket and barcode on your phone, sit in a crowd and listen to Harry for two hours? Look at him from across the room and just take it on the chin?

It certainly seemed you were dressed for it. And you were out of the house with time to get there. Would you get off the train at the stop though? Would you walk down the street with the bright sign his name lit up? Would Harry even know if you didn't go?

Part of you wonders if his assistant didn't mean to email you. Maybe she forgot you were no longer in Harry's life? Perhaps it was a scheduled email she forgot to stop? Probably it was Harry just being fucking nice, and polite, and worrying about how you'd feel if you were uninvited. Or if he didn't check in on you while he was here.

You accepted the reminder too easily and scolded yourself for it. His team was expecting you. Harry was expecting you. And now, sitting on the train and counting down the stops you felt caught. Felt like he had you again, even if it was just winning whatever tonight was.

Harry did always enjoy the chase. Admitted it himself, admitted to loving the beginning of meeting someone. Loving the audition process, the figuring each other out, the get. The Catch.

You wonder now if it was the chase he liked back then. Was it a thrill having you make him feel as though he had something to prove? Or was it Harry experiencing for the first time not having the upper hand, not having even the tiniest amount of weight around who he was count for anything. Now it felt like Harry was nothing but upper hand.

Whatever it was—the Chase, or your endless facts, pancakes on a Sunday morning—the part of Harry's lie about you being different that hurts the most is the way you bought into it so proudly. Wore it later as his girlfriend like a badge of honour. As though it signalled to others you'd been hard-won, and Harry was lucky to have you.

Different turned out to be such a dirty word.

Different turned out to mean nothing. To get you nowhere.

All different got you was Nothing To Him.

The second lie was that he saw a future with you.

Harry didn't shy away from talking about it. He made plans for you both.

Sometimes it was in the moments right before you both fell asleep at night, or in the final seconds before the kettle finished boiling. Always in some small window where his mind drifted and sat comfortably stagnant when all there was to think about was the next holiday you'd take together. Or what breed of dog you might have one day. Whether you wanted your kids to be close together in age or have larger age gaps between them. What you thought about silent retreats in Thailand.

He stored your answers away in the file full of you in his head or added them to the note on his phone with ideas for gifts for people or things going on in their lives he wanted to remember.

"My family have always had cats," he told you one night, fingers drawing circles around your bare kneecap, your naked thigh resting across his stomach, "When I'm settled I'd want to get a few of my own."

It was one of those hot summer nights no position felt comfortable for sleep, you raised your arms up over your head and stretched out further on the mattress, fingers dangling off the edge of the bed to feel the cold stream from the air conditioning unit above, "I don't trust cats. Isn't there something about them being evolutionarily build to hunt their owner?"

Harry turned his head to face you, "A fact for everything," he recited fondly, his common quip for your always having an answer for everything, "I'll let the cats hunt me, you'll be spared."

"As long as I can name them," you murmured, your eyes finally closing.

Close to three months later, an hour into unsuccessfully putting together a flat-pack shelving unit in Harry's garage, you heavily plopped yourself down on the concrete floor and hailed defeat. You tossed the small, silver Allen key onto the floor in Harry's direction and rested your chin in your palm.

A few minutes of watching his embittered attempts passed before he spoke.

"Hey Sulky, I can feel you looking at me," Harry was frowning at the short piece of timber in his hand, he was holding it next to what was supposed to be the base of the structure. This was your second attempt at pulling apart the shelves and starting again while you cursed the entire Swedish furniture empire. You were enjoying seeing Harry's stubborn frustration immensely.

He could be such a man sometimes.

"Yeah, 'cause you're hot," you said, mocking him dreamily.

"Ha ha," he drawled, rolling his shoulders back to try to regain his focus.

When he paused a moment later and looked up at you, his arms dropped as his brow softened and he let out a breath.

You grinned at him, "I'm pretty cute too, right?"

"All this shit is going to end up living on the ground because you're sabotaged the assembly!" He gestured wildly at the tools and spare paint colours for the house lying around you. His bike parts and the weird assortment of garden tools Harry collected were leaning against the wall waiting to be put on their new home as well, the shelf neither you nor Harry were skilled enough to put together.

"Baby," you began, but Harry waved you off, and you saw genuine frustration start to emerge on his face, "Okay! Okay, I'm sorry," you stressed, "Are you sure we're looking at this thing from the right way around? Maybe the designer meant for it to be wonky?"

He rolled his eyes at you. As if the mere thought anyone would design anything to look like the mess currently on the floor was purely preposterous—his temper for small frustrations on full display.

"Don't be rude!" You admonished, "It's a fucking shelf, we can do this, Harry."

It took you another hour and a half, but when it was done, Harry draped his arm around your shoulders, kissed you on the head and told you that you were the person he wanted by his side of all his future crisis. Someone to say to him, whatever the challenge was, it wasn't beyond him, wasn't something he couldn't handle or wasn't capable of.

You felt like you were floating that night.

It was one of those few times you could see your imprint on his life. See some evidence of it. There were shelves in his garage only there because you told him he needed storage there, and then you pushed him to keep trying assembling them. It was some proof you'd been in his life. An impression of your influence. A memory that would hover in his garage forever.

Two days after putting the shelves together, you and Harry had an argument about the plastic tubs he went off on his own to buy for all the loose bits and pieces he wanted to go on the shelves. You were annoyed he didn't purchase wooden ones, and he couldn't understand why it mattered that they were white plastic which would apparently be impossible to keep clean.

It's a garage, he thought, who's cleaning their garage?

And because arguments always dredge up things that they aren't supposed to, you made a jab about your relationship being secret.

You said something like, If I'd been able to come with you, we wouldn't be having this row!

Harry knew what you really meant straight away. You'd been together for more than nine months at that point, and nobody knew about it: nobody but your families and very very closest friends. There were no photos of Harry having lunch with you at a cafe, or of you walking a few steps behind him at the shops. Nobody had snuck a picture of you backstage at a show of his. He'd never appeared on your social media, even by suggestion, and Harry had never taken the risk including you on any private Instagram Stories.

Those photographs didn't exist, because those circumstances never had. There wasn't even a celebrity paper trail linking you to knowing Harry, let alone dating him. Harry didn't dedicate performances to you, or even to an unnamed significant other. You never got a song or an album dedication. Harry was so adamant on nobody getting wind of the relationship that sometimes it felt like … Like he enjoyed the sneaking around. The having a secret. (Later on, when you reflected on the relationship once it was over, you really weren't sure how there'd never been even one instance of you being seen coming or going from Harry's house. Hindsight made that feel suss to you.)

Most of the time you liked it, though, liked not having any fuss or interruption to your life but sometimes—a lot of the time—it felt like something silently eroding you from the inside—a silent acid eating your spirit.

But you'd never tell Harry that. Then anyway. Now … You're not sure what you'd tell him now.

The truth was a lot of the time you weren't sure how you'd managed to keep it going so long. Part of it was obvious, maybe, like not being in public together. But still, surely after being together months and having arguments about shelves you could afford a platonic appearing coffee trip or going for a run at the same time, together?

Instead, you'd gear up and run in opposite directions down his street. Or Harry would stay in the car while you went in for the coffee. You'd sit in a nosebleed seat if you went to a show, sneaking through some fire exit and into the main hallways of a venue with the public to get to it. You looked like a sad woman attending a gig on your own, not the girlfriend of the star.

Nobody would know you even knew the man up on stage. That you had something in the slow cooker at home for you both to eat when you got home, or that he'd stolen a tube of your favourite lip balm and had it in his blazer pocket for his set. Nobody would guess you made him late for the soundcheck with just a smile and the undoing of a zip.

Seeing him tonight would be just like it always was, you and Harry from across the room. But then not like always, because Harry wouldn't see you tonight. You wouldn't have the taste of a good luck kiss on your lips. Or the sound of Harry's warm-up in your ears. Yours was always an invisible connection that was kept invisible by design, and now being broken up, it looked no different than together. Not really.

Tonight though it would only be you seeing Harry. Like you see him on late-night talk show promotions and billboards. Like the times you get into an Uber, and his song is playing. How strange it feels, to have your heart crack in your chest again while also lifting somehow. Singing along with a song about you. Or hearing his laugh or even just Harry speaking, and being able to picture the exact expression that would go along with it.

Every raised inflection. Ever breathy giggle. Every brow crease at a thought that Harry was chasing or somehow unable to articulate. All of those turning into you picturing what he looked like every time he knew he was disappointing you. Every whined sorry and all the instances of him loving on you to move your mind away from his deficiencies.

"What's the plan for Y/N?"

If your relationship with Harry was a t-shirt, that would be the slogan across the chest. Those would be the words under the cartoon impression of you banging your head against a wall Harry's standing on the other side of.

How will Y/N get in? Who's staying behind with Y/N? Where will I meet up with Y/N?

There was always a question. Always a plan for you and it was decidedly separate to the plan for Harry. His team organised a second car or an earlier flight for you. A back entrance or some other smokescreen to keep you concealed. In the beginning, it felt like a kindness, but in the end, you were embarrassed by it. The bother, the way what started as a careful consideration for your wellbeing turned into something rotten that painted you a different colour to Harry and his public inner circle, the circle you were never invited or initiated into.

It was exhausting. But Harry assured you it was for the best.

You wonder what the future he saw for you really was though. How much further did Harry see a life like that going? A life with you perpetually operating under cover of darkness. A life of you decidedly not existing. Not really.

So when he said he saw a future with you, you're really not sure what Harry meant.

Did he mean one day he saw himself lifting the veil and telling the world he had a Someone? Or did he mean that he saw himself forever hiding you, forever living that lie?

Maybe he actually saw nothing.

Sometimes you could be convinced the fact Harry hid you was an action pointing to a more profound truth.

That the future he saw was an imagined indulgence; a convenience, and a comfortable lie. Comforting on a temporary level, like bowling alley bumper rails or the plastic covering on a new watch face. The fake sense of security—of protection, of immaculacy—was just that, artificial and temporary. It ceased to exist the minute you plucked the corner and pulled back the protective layer. Crashed as soon as the bumpers were flipped down.

You were a secret only Harry had any power over. He led from the front because you didn't know there was any other option. And in letting yourself be that, you made yourself easily dispensable.

Disposable. Replaceable. Erasable.

Which is precisely what happened when he left.

Harry left, and the You of the two of you ended. But more than any other relationship ever could, the silence that followed felt deadly. It wasn't just a relationship that once was, it was a relationship that never was. A year of your life made no imprint on his. Nobody looking at him could know there was anything—anybody—missing, and maybe that was the whole point.

Maybe that was the design of it.

The third lie was that you could tell him anything.

Harry's golden rule always was honest communication.

There's no such thing as an overshare, he'd say when you naturally hesitated.

He was all about that. All about hearing what was worrying you, or the mundane things that were going on in your world. Sometimes you felt like maybe it was an act because nobody had ever found your family, or your friends, or your life in general as interesting as Harry seemed to. He was always telling you he loved hearing the funny text conversations going on, or who was having a row and why, or what each of your friends was stressed about in their jobs or relationships or themselves. And Harry always said he loved hearing it from you the most.

(Now, that struck you as a strange thing to say. Where else would he hear anything about you? Harry was the only line connecting you back to him. You didn't have mutual friends or people who'd known you both before you dated each other. There was nobody for Harry to hear anything from. It's not like your friends were going to reach out to him with gossip about you. Not like how you could sneak a look at update accounts or read about his performance online while he was away.)

Still, you loved the stories he told from the road, ate them up. The missing coffee mugs where everyone got their caffeine fix served in wine glasses and lemonade tumblers for almost two whole weeks. And then the tour t-shirts accidentally ordered in bulk in children's sizes that Harry hand-delivered them to a local children's charity. The crumbs of gossip Harry picked up about who in his team was sweet on who (he loved a setup, loved watching crushes silently and awkwardly orbit around each other).

Your secrets were safe with him, he promised. He wouldn't ever judge you. Wouldn't dismiss your feelings or what kept you awake at night next to him. So you did it. You believed him. And you slowly drained everything inside of you into him. Harry got all your stories, even the ones you vowed to leave exactly where they sat in your past. Even the ones you felt like might kill you to dredge back up. The ones that made you look like a shitty friend or sister or daughter. He got them all.

And even now, he's still got them.

"What's the biggest lie you ever told?" He asked you one night in his kitchen, both of you elbow deep in making dinner. Harry rolled out the lines of gnocchi and cut the inch long pieces while you pressed them over a fork to decoratively indent them. (Although Harry likes to tell you how when he was in Italy he learned in patterns weren't just aesthetic—it was all about soaking up more of the sauce, For the sauce, of course! He'd sing out in an Italian accent, proud of himself.) "Like, a proper lie," he clarified, "Not like how you told my mum you didn't take sugar in your tea when you first met her."

You hinged your knee out to attack his calf for the teasing comment but then rolled your lips together in thought, "I lied to my parents a lot growing up," you told him honestly. "I think about eighty per cent of the time I wasn't where I told them I was. Definitely wasn't with who I said I was with."

Harry shook his head as he rolled out the next lump of dough, "No, I mean like … Like a lie."

A moment passed as you thought more deeply about the question, travelled around your memories until you landed somewhere suitable, "I lied to my boyfriend at university," you begin. "A pretty bad one, I guess."

"And the lie was …" Harry prompts.

"I told him I was a virgin before him."

Harry eyes raised, and then he nodded, accepting it, "I think that's probably a common one, really."

"I thought he'd like me more if I said it," I admitted quietly, pausing the work with your hands. "Wasn't too proud of losing my virginity in a tent in the sixth form … And I mean, at that age you just so desperately want to be the version of you that you think the people around you will like the most. A whole group of us went camping at someone's grandparent's farm during the summer holidays. Not sure how our parents let us, to be honest. Anyway, I had awful, painful, embarrassing sex in a tent with a guy named … Dylan Fraiser."

You were surprised by how long the name took to come to you. Years ago, that was such a defining event in your life. Now it hardly mattered at all anymore.

Progress, you thought.

"A tent," Harry winced.

"Really came back to bite me in the arse when my uni boyfriend went on to tell a group of his mates he was my first and—

—Tent Guy was one of them?" Harry guessed. Correctly.

"Yep. Small towns are a curse."

"I promise never to have sex with you in a tent," Harry teased, grinning at you over his wine glass and then leaning over to kiss your temple. He looked down at the line of gnocchi pieces you'd made together proudly, "We're alright at this."

"Hmmm," you hummed, now lost in the past, "I told that uni boyfriend him I loved him … I didn't though," you say without thinking, shrugging as the words came out, "I thought he was boring. But it was cool to have a boyfriend, so I didn't break up with him … Guess I've told more whoppers than I thought."

Harry gives you an understanding look, "I've said I love you to protect someone's feelings too. Thought it might come a little later, that I was just not feeling it as quickly as them."

It should have made you question whether Harry meant I love you with you. But it didn't. He was speaking in the past tense, and you were imaging that version of him being younger than the almost thirty-year-old you were dating. Now though … You wonder what love meant to Harry when you were together. Whether your wires were crossed by different definitions. Even now, you couldn't vilify him. Not completely. He was too thoughtful in general, there'd be a reason for it. There always was with Harry.

"What's your biggest lie?" You turned the exercise back on him, smiling as he refilled your wine glass and skipped a few songs on the playlist. These were your favourite moments with Harry. The end of the day, where you were the only thing on his to-do list. There wasn't a lingering work call, or a meeting to prepare for, an email to reply to. Harry was just finishing his day with dinner and some time at home. With you.

Harry gave you a withering look, "I think you know already."

"I don't," you said because you really didn't, "What was it?"

"There's no way I'll ever do anything else with The Band," he said tonelessly as he turned to rinse his hands in the sink, unable to look at you while he said it. And even then, Harry didn't admit to the lie. Didn't name it. He just said what the truth was instead.

"Why wouldn't you?" You asked, instead of what you were sure Harry thought you'd ask.

You weren't interested in why he told that particular lie though, the answer to that was pretty apparent to you: he cared about his fans—they all did—and didn't want to disappoint them. And they probably hadn't been able to deal with thinking about the ripples ending it completely, right off the bat, would have caused. Saying you were taking a break was a much nicer way to let a world of fans down. An easier pill to swallow than 'We're done' straight off the bat.

You gave Harry time to respond. He fiddled with the gnocchi pieces in front of him, waiting for the water to boil in the pot behind you both, "Not sure, really."

He was lying now, and you could tell. He was ashamed of the truth.

"You're not sure?"

"I just wouldn't, there's no one reason. No big thing. It's not like I hate them all or anything, I just …"

There was one big thing, though. And it was typical Harry to not be able to name it. He was always so in denial about his own arrogance, about what it was that drove him. Harry thought he was above them. His success since The Band far outweighed anything any of the others had done. Going back to that would be diminishing for Harry's career. Wouldn't help him any. He was stronger on his own, more successful. More widely appreciated. That chapter of his life was done, it had been a stepping stone—yes, a life-defining one—but Harry had moved to bigger and brighter stages on his own.

"It's not what you think," he told you lowly when you didn't ask anything further.

It was so typical of Harry to not see the forest for the trees. To not see how he, yet again, was blurring and confusing the lines between a business decision and an emotional, personal one. He was speaking about The Band emotionally, but his reason for distancing himself from it was all to do with business.

"It's not?" You asked plainly.

"I don't think I'm better than them or some shit," Harry said, "I just … That part of me is done. I'm not who I was back then, and I don't want to go back to that person."

"You also wouldn't get anything out of it," you prod, knowing that you shouldn't have. But it was true. So much of Harry's life was a business decision. Everything was so carefully done, so deliberately set into place by him and his team that results and his successes were almost guaranteed.

At the time, you didn't understand how he couldn't see it. Or you couldn't believe that he didn't. He was so calculating, and he hated you telling him so. But he was. He liked to say he wasn't defined by his job, but Harry's whole life was defined by his career, by the who he was.

He loved to spout off his public shit about staying grounded and having a life away from being Harry Styles ™, but he didn't let anyone see even a skerrick that life. The only thing Harry ever let be projected about him was his job, that was all was ever on the table for discussion. And so it was hardly surprising that became who he was away from the cameras and lights as well.

Hiding you was a business decision, you figured out in the aftermath of The End. It was his way of keeping the narrative about his music and career on track. As soon as there was a You, Harry's private life would distract from his real focus and goal, his career. And you mean, it's not like it didn't work for him. Because here you were, standing outside in the chilly night looking at his name up in lights.

Harry's name always looked so good up on billboards and the fronts of stadiums. You always used to tell him even the letters of his name were visually pleasing, they looked good together, like they fit. So you stand on the street across the road from tonight's venue and take it in—HARRY STYLES, SOLD OUT—for several minutes.

You don't know that you're ready for this. Seeing him. You've so perfectly avoided it until now. Until you felt like there was a promise you made lifetimes ago you now can't break. Even if you felt like he'd broken a thousand promises between the two points in time.

Where else would I be? you'd said when he first drew that stupid mock ticket.

Where else, indeed.

You scuttle across the street and sneak between people to get yourself in through the doors. Dodging lenders selling merchandise and ticket holders excitedly covering their painstakingly planned outfits with t-shirts Harry—aided by his perfectionism, you were sure— probably spent months deciding on.

The barcode won't scan though. And the usher at the door doesn't appreciate you pulling your phone back and trying to adjust the backlight, as though that will help the loud, angry sound his scanner is making each time he aims it at the email on your screen. He eventually reads part of your email and then tells you that you need to stand off to the side, barks something gruffly into his walkie talkie and dismisses you in favour of getting through the backlog of people behind you. You're filled with a white-hot embarrassment as you shuffle over and stand under a neon EXIT sign. A moment later you step forward and ask him to try again, but that doesn't get you anywhere different, and you think you're going to get in some kind of trouble when he insists Just stand back over there for a moment.

Your feet have already started hurting in your too-tight boots when finally the wall behind you opens up, and you very quickly come face to face with Harry's assistant.

"Y/N," she smiles, "I thought I said in the email to call me when you got here?"

You're dumbstruck, you didn't read the email, not properly. "I … I …"

"It's good to see you again," her smile hasn't moved, and it's genuine. She reaches one hand out towards you and deposits a VIP lanyard around your neck, "Follow me."

You get halfway down the emergency exit, and she sidesteps a security guard through a doorway, leading you into the veins of the backstage area where there's a familiar buzz of busy people you'd not realised you missed being around until now. Your heart is racing because you weren't prepared for this. You'd been deliberately dragging your feet getting here, and you've arrived barely fifteen minutes before Harry's due to go on stage. She's walked you right to the side of the stage where there's a curtain just to your left and scaffolding all around. You can hear the audience, and you know that one step through that curtain will take you to the pit side of the stage, where you'd seen Harry's family stand during shows before.

"He wanted to say hi beforehand but," his assistant looks at her watch, "But it's a touch too close now so are you okay if I leave you here for just a second? I'll be back in …" her eyes go back to her wrist, "Probably about twenty-five?"

"That's fine," you nod dumbly. "Are you sure this okay?"

You're looking around wondering if this is where Harry meant you to be. Really, you're sure this isn't where he intended you to watch his show at all. A few people are milling around but nobody you recognise, and you figure the majority of them are probably venue employees. Harry and his band would only walk through here at the very last second. He didn't like standing around beforehand with anyone who wouldn't be on stage with him. Harry got in his zone and needed to stay there.

When you look back at his assistant she's giving you a look you don't want to read too deeply, but it almost looks like pity, "Of course," she tells you, "I'll be back by the end of the first song."

"I might go stand through here now," you point to the curtain, preferring the thought of standing in the dark by yourself than waiting for Harry to walk straight past you during his thirty-second countdown. "Is that okay?"

You get a nod, and she tells you to grab a drink off the table behind you. Leaving you with your heart rattling and the heaviest lanyard you've ever worn burning through your shirt to your chest.

Finding a spot to watch the show was easy. You picked the furthest side of the pit, under the concrete overhand of the seats above, and stand in the shadows, only half the stage in your line of sight. It felt like a little cave almost, and you lean your back against the cold concrete and tap your boots together on the ground below you.

The area starts filling around you as members of Harry's team finish their part in preparing him for the show. There are a few women wearing belts with makeup brushes and combs peaking out of them, and two familiar faces from Harry's executive team. They don't see you, though, and you're glad. You watch the roadies' torches flash on the dark stage as they neaten up leads and manoeuvre over amp boxes double-checking the guitars are in the right order for the sets.

There's a movement in your periphery that draws your attention back, the group of people who joined you in the pit all gravitating towards something back at the curtain. And it's not until one of them steps to the side that you see the floating head that's poking through the dark material.

Harry.

He's staring right at you: no expression on his face, just his searching, green eyes that stop when they see you standing in the dark as far from him as you can possibly be. He takes half a step forward, and the shoulder of an expensive suit peeks out. You hear in your head echos of a moment in Harry's living room unpacking a delivery from Gucci, the way you nearly choked on your tea at the cost of a tailored trouser and his half frustrated dismissal, 'It's nothing, that's standard for me.' You felt small at that moment, thinking about how one of Harry's suits could pay for your education for a year, and that would be nothing for him.

You feel small now too. This isn't the space you're supposed to occupy.

The shadow of a frown barely cross his features, but then Harry tries to pull his dimples up to give you a small smile. But it's testing, it's not a confident smile or one he looks sure he's giving. Like he's smiling at someone he's not sure will smile back.

There's no way I'll ever do anything else with the band, he'd said.

But that wasn't the biggest lie he'd told, just the most public, the widest.

His deepest, biggest lie was you.

The fourth lie was that he loved you.

Harry was the one to say it first.

It came out like a compliment. A response to a fact of yours he'd particularly liked. A sort of well done, that was a good one.

It was nearly two months since you'd met, and what started as three or four dates a week morphed into you staying at Harry's house most nights. You spending your weekends off work trailing around after him on his errands or to work things, or hanging out alone at his place until he returned from them. A couple of times, you went to the same exercise class, which involved the two of you going separately and not interacting at all. Still, you'd peek at him from across the room and have to hold your giggles for later when Harry spent the hour concentrating beyond anything you'd ever seen just to stay in the seat of the spin bike.

Saturdays and Sundays he started taking off too though, around a month into dating you. No more 6am weekend PT sessions or midday conference calls with creative teams. The only work Harry allowed himself to do on weekends was housework. Laundry. Food prep. Touching base with his mum.

"Did you know blueberries are actually false berries?"

"No, I did not know blueberries are actually false berries," Harry parroted back to you. You catch the half rolling of his eyes at you where you're sitting up in your favourite spot on the bench next to the hob, peering at him keeping careful watch over breakfast: blueberry pancakes. He was wearing just his pants, chest bare and cool in the autumn morning air. You were rugged up in leggings and a sweater, unsure how he could stand being in such a state of undress.

"It's true," you reaffirmed your tidbit, popping a false berry into your mouth while Harry—with far too much concentration for the job at hand—dropped the small round berries on top of the batter sizzling in the pan. "Berries by definition are fleshy, pulpy ovary fruits that have their seeds embedded on the outside. Blueberry seeds are on the inside. So they aren't really berries."

"Ovary fruits?" He questioned, with a look of mild distaste.

Your shoulders dropped as you realised Harry knew less than you thought he did, "All fruit are ovaries, Harry. Think about it."

He does for a moment, and you can practically see the cogs turning. Harry thinking about how fruit grows on their plants and bushes and shrubs. The fact of what an ovary is when it comes to basic anatomy. And when he comes to the full circle of it, he groans, "That is so weird."

"I think it's cool," you grinned. "Like a little bit cannibalistic in a way."

He barked out a laugh at that, "I don't think that's what it is."

"Well, maybe not technically," you conceded, "But it's something … Really makes you rethink eating eggs."

"Oh my god," Harry was truly laughing then, "Stop, please."

"Sorry," you peeped with a cringed look, tossing back half a handful of the small, round fruit in front of you.

He was shaking his head at you, laughter bubbling out between his perfectly straight teeth, and then it just slipped out, "Fuck, I love you."

The words didn't bump over any hesitation. I love you, Harry said.

Your stomach dropped instantly, but the fond happiness dancing across Harry's face didn't go anywhere. He didn't look back at the pancakes or to where your hands were wringing together on your lap. Harry held your gaze and didn't dodge away from what he said at all. Like he knew you'd need a moment with it, that you weren't expecting him to just come out with that.

"I love you," he repeated after a moment, smiling when he saw your lips start to turn up, "I mean it."

Hearing him yell the same words through the microphone from stage sizzles your heart a little, like the pancakes that day crackled in the pan as Harry pushed himself into you on the kitchen floor. You remember the feeling of his hands under your clothes, your leggings barely halfway down your thighs before he was claiming you in a wave of lust, pushed by the new, invisible force in your relationship—love.

The floor under you now vibrates as everyone gets to their feet to join Harry dancing through his first song. You stare at him, daring him to look over at you but knowing he won't. The longer you stand there, the more you thaw out to it, the more you find yourself with a smile on your face and a slight sway to your hips. His music is fun and familiar and feels like clicking into place.

It's mesmerising. He's mesmerising.

You don't like admitting you'd forgotten how good at this he was. He has the whole crowd eating out of the palm of his hand. Even his crew around you are grinning ear to ear and singing along. Sharing private jokes between them and cutting dance moves in small groups as they watch the show. It's fun. And it reminds you that so much of your relationship with Harry was like that. That there were countless nights spent dancing in the living room or screaming at laptop screens doing board game nights with his family.

You'd forgotten that you could laugh so hard your belly hurt and that Harry was one of the few people who'd ever been able to get you to that point of joy. Watching him throw joy off the stage now at thousands of people was reminding you how very good Harry was—used to be—at making you feel like the only person in the world to him.

"Babe," his giggles filtered down the hallway and into the bathroom where you were plucking your eyebrows, "Babe! Come … Come see this."

You rolled your eyes as you put the tweezers down and padded into his living room, not at all surprised to see Harry pretzeled on his yoga mat in a fit of laughter. He did this a lot, called you away from a task or from work for something hilarious that ninety-nine per cent of the time wasn't hilarious at all. You'd end up snorting out laughter of your own though, at him.

Now, Harry had one of his feet hooked behind his neck while the other was prostrate on the floor behind him.

"You're doing great, baby," you condescended lightly, tilting your head to the side and frowning at his position. It looked awful and not at all calming, let alone comfortable. He wasn't a very good advertisement for yoga at all.

"They say this one's great for—great for," he giggled too much to get the words out, his arms holding his torso back so his legs would do what he wanted them to, he took a deep breath, "It's meant to be the yoga colonic."

Harry was heaving with laughter as he finally got it out, his position faltered, and you watched as his limbs all fell back to the mat as he leant forward cackling. You were grinning too, amused by how amused he was.

"Been feeling backed up, have you?" You asked him, crossing your arms as you hitch one hip out.

He rolled over on his back and wheezed out the final string of laughter, one hand holding his lower tummy as if it ached from the whole spectacle, as his other hand reached out for your ankle, "Come down here with me."

"Hmm," you hummed, pretending to be unhappy to be dragged down on top of him, your hips resting on his thighs as your chin propped up on your hands at his chest, "It's very entertaining how entertaining you find yourself," you mused.

Harry rubbed the tears from his eyes and then settled his hands on your back, breathing in the pleasant weight of you there, "I just—I was thinking about what they think the yoga colonic is going to do." His giggles started again, "Imagine being in a class and it literally working? Everyone just—everyone just shits themselves!"

You can feel his laugher, his bones pushing yours up as his whole body fills with his happiness. The stream of tears coming from the corners of his eyes start again as he squeezed his eyes shut while the sound of Harry's deep, uninhibited laughter filled the whole house again.

The memory brings back a smile, like so many with Harry do.

But there's still the Too Fresh Sting of your final moments with him, your last moments with him. You've not seen him since that evening months ago where you both yapped at each other things that couldn't be unsaid, unhappinesses that couldn't be reverted or unadmitted. It wasn't like the fights you had about Harry's casualised view of money and how he'd drop thousands of pounds on seemingly nothing without thinking how small it could make you feel. Or the times you'd snap in frustration when Harry tuned out of you complaining about an issue with your friends he deemed as superfluous or rooted in something silly or not as essential as the Important Thing He Was Planning. He could be so dismissive when he didn't think something mattered highly enough on his scale of measuring things.

The Harry dancing around on stage in front of you wasn't the man who said you were independent like it was a dirty word. Yelled across the kitchen that it was too easy for the two of you to be apart, you didn't miss him enough. The man who told you he didn't feel like you needed him, thought you were always standing with one foot out the door the whole time you were together. And you can remember being flabbergasted (still are, really) by what he was saying because it just wasn't true at all. You? Too independent? You spent every night at his house, and were at Harry's beck and call the whole relationship. And you can hear all the times you said 'what would I do without you?' when he talked you off a ledge or had answers to questions you believed to be unanswerable.

You can see how it was another classic example of Harry telling a non-truth to cover up what was really there. To distract from his own shortcomings. He accused you of what he was feeling, of his flaws. Making them your problem meant he didn't have to be vulnerable. Didn't have to take a risk his business manager hadn't guaranteed. Didn't have to gamble on your future together.

In the relationship, he always had the upper hand. And maybe you did have one foot out the door emotionally, but that was only because you had to. Harry never invited you in with him completely. You were always on the outer. After nearly a year of dating you were still The Girlfriend He Didn't Have.

But I fucking love you, he'd said when he sensed where that night was going. Like Harry had a list of grievances, and it wasn't until he got to the end of reading them out to you that he realised where it landed him. He told you he loved you as though it would erase all the things about you he seemed to dislike so much. Things about yourself you apparently couldn't see.

Hindsight has taught you that if anyone was too independent, or hesitant to commit fully in that relationship, it was Harry.

Halfway through his set, Harry's assistant comes over to check on you, and you end up chatting for a few minutes about how you've been. She speaks to you like there was some club you were a member of and she missed your meetings. Although neither of you references the breakup, or acknowledge in another life you had a lot more to do with each other, the unspoken things weigh on your chest. You find yourself wiping away a quiet tear when she walks back over to the main group watching Harry.

Of course, that's when he teeters over to your side of the stage and looks straight at you. His expression falls instantly, and you're sure that he only meant to glance at you in passing, but what he sees has him doing a double-take and fixing his gaze on you for two lines of the song he's midway through. He tugs on the collar of his shirt and Harry's eyes are desperately trying to read what you're thinking, just like that day he told you he loved you at the end of the breakup, as though you'd forget everything that came before it.

You stick your thumb out to him and give him your best fake smile. Like he might be led to believe you were crying about something else. As if you hadn't just pulled his attention from a room full of people who'd paid for his attention tonight. At that moment you think the fact there's a secret love and life between you must be too obvious to everyone else. There's a connection, something whirls around the room between you and it feels threatening and perilous to how you've been trained to think things have to be.

You wait until Harry turns and goes the other way across the stage before you push off from the wall and walk out.

At first, love was an encouragement between you. It was approval, a showing of appreciation. Love was a promise that was just for the two of you. A declaration that validated everything you were doing together. Love was a feeling that proved what every action meant.

Then, love was a bandaid, was a line used in desperation to fix something unfixable, and you walk the world with skun knees now because of it. Love was never just love. It was used to fix the wrong things.

And in the end, nothing healed at all.

The fifth lie was that he'd always fight for you.

Harry promised you that the two of you would make it work.

You'd make up after every argument, big or small. The little ones that were those tiny bickerings in the car which somehow roared into yelling matches. Or when one person's grumpiness from the day leaked into your evening together. You always expected his call or the long sigh that would precede his apology. You never got halfway home to your house if you left his after a row. He'd call and beg for you to come back, that nothing was worth you physically leaving being near him. You left knowing before the night was done the two of you would reconcile.

Until it was That Fight you were leaving after. The one that began The End.

It started because Harry was overseas for a few weeks. While he was away, you suggested the two of you going on a holiday together during the summer. An anniversary trip. From the other side of the world, it was easy enough for Harry to worm his way of out of it. He went off on a tangent about there being no holidays (rest) for the wicked and then got you talking about something else until you forgot how you'd been sold on the idea of lying on a beach with him for a week.

When Harry got home, you had it stored in an unhappy little pocket in your mind. Top of the agenda for when he returned.

"Can we talk about the holiday thing again?" You asked his first night home.

He sighed against you, his body gearing up for a reunion that didn't involve speaking, lips attached to your neck while his hands danced around the band of your bra, "Do we have to right now?"

"Well," your instinct was to back away from the tension rising between you, "I'd like to."

Harry pushed his hair up off his face and briefly looked at the ceiling, "I don't see how we can, babe. It's too hard, logistically. Just take a week off work and stay with me here."

"I already stay here," you counter, "I'm talking about a holiday somewhere. A beach. Or a ski resort. Something fun and different."

"Those places are all busy," Harry complained, his hands off you. He started to pack the dishwasher from dinner.

"I just want to go away with you, do something normal, you know?"

He clipped the side of the sink with a dinner plate and swore angrily under his breath, "Fuck."

"Don't get angry."

"I'm not fucking angry," he growled, tossing your forks into the plastic crate, "I just fucking got home, and you're straight into this. No 'I missed you so much' or 'It's so great to see you'… Just straight into going on a holiday as if I have endless time to mess about."

"What do you mean? We've just eaten dinner together, you told me all about your trip. I said I was happy to have you home!"

"Yeah, well, feels like you just don't give a fuck that I'm back."

You frowned at him starting to get annoyed yourself, "I cried on our FaceTime call on the weekend because I missed you! You have a lobotomy since then?"

"Don't yell," Harry instructed quietly like he was chastising a child for not controlling themselves.

"What's this about, Harry?" You asked. "Why is it such a crime for me to want to go away with my boyfriend?"

He sighed again, "It's not."

"Right," you crossed your arms over your chest and wondered how many times he could wipe down the chopping board.

Probably one more time.

"So …"

"So what?" Harry repeated, "What do you want from me?"

His words and their harshness shocked you, and that was the exact moment you started worrying this was going to turn into Something Else. Not just a Normal Fight.

"I want you to tell me why you're so annoyed by this?"

It would have been so easy for you to break down and scream about how insane it was that you were talking about celebrating your first anniversary with him and the relationship was still a secret. How badly you wanted to throw that out there, but there was a wise fear in you which said that would be a death wish. (That fact haunts you today, how you knew he'd never step out with you. There wasn't any hope in you or promise from him it wouldn't always be that way. You knew your place and where the boundary line was, don't push past this point. And you always behaved. Never peeped out of your box.)

"It's like you don't even need me," Harry said bitterly, "You're so fucking independent. What's the point?"

"What are you talking about?" You gushed, nearly swallowing your tongue when he turned back to look at you for the first time.

"You don't need me," he accused, "You've always got one foot out the door."

"I don't," came your defence, but you both knew it was the truth. You were halfway out the door because you hadn't been invited all the way in yet.

"You don't want this life with me," Harry shook his head, "You've never been happy where we are. Relationships don't work that way, you can't just keep demanding the same thing hoping you'll wear me down. That's not fair."

Tears shake out of your eyes slowly as your body catches up with what he's saying, "Harry."

"It's not fair!" He repeated loudly. "You can't keep on about it."

About what? You want to ask him because you hadn't mentioned a holiday until the week before. That's not what he was really angry about. He was talking about The Secret. And his guilt was showing. His anger was misdirected, aimed at the wrong thing. He muttered something to himself you didn't hear.

"I didn't hear that."

"I said," Harry looked up at you, and when your eyes clicked together you saw surprise rise and then quickly disappear as if he hadn't expected to see you there. "I said, I don't think we can keep doing this."

"You don't think we can keep doing this?" You repeated it because the words hardly sounded like English the first time you heard them.

I don't think we can keep doing this.

Harry stood across from you with no expression on his face. And it took a few moments for him to own up to what he said, but he does. He nods his head once, awkwardly, and then nods again.

"We can't keep doing this," he tells you, sounding defeated, and then his voice rises again—in pitch, not in volume—"But I fucking love you!"

But I fucking love you.

As if that was enough.

It was days of you expecting a call, and a make up that never came. Expecting the fight for your relationship Harry promised you he'd always put up. You wanted him to prove that you were someone he couldn't do without. You hated the thought of him walking around his house and not feeling the absence of you as some impossible weight he couldn't bear.

"Y/N!" Your name sounds out behind you, but you keep walking, an instantaneous decision that pretending not to hear her might work.

Unsurprisingly, it doesn't.

Harry's assistant keeps chasing you down the hall she initially led you through, calling your name and eventually getting you to stop and turn around because, well, you can't keep pretending she's not there forever.

"I'm just finding a loo," you lie.

"There's one this way," she points over her shoulder, in the direction you both came from, "Harry said if you tried to leave I had to go with you, which, for my own dignity I'd really prefer not to have to do."

You find yourself scoffing, "Who said he's in charge of how long I stay?"

Her expression softens somewhat, "He just wants to see you after."

How dare he think he can control this still, you think.

You know she's not the person to be frustrated with. You should be frustrated with yourself first, for coming, and then with Harry for deciding he could orchestrate this … This whatever it was. Still, you find yourself biting out your reply, "He saw me from stage," you tell her bitterly.

"And he'll have seen that you're not there anymore," she replies patiently,, "It'll throw off his focus if he's worried you've gone home halfway through."

You fall into step beside her but can't give him the win, "Quite frankly, it's not my concern or responsibility anymore if his focus is thrown or not."

She wordlessly points out where the bathrooms are just in front of you. You're trying not to make eye contact with anyone who's in these backstage hallways. They feel like ghosts from a life that's not yours anymore.

The first time you met any of Harry's People you'd felt absolutely mortified. The whole thing felt awkward to you, meeting assistants and managers and creative directors. Putting faces and humans to jobs done for Harry. He was a lot of people's boss, and it made you uncomfortable because you'd not seen that side to him before. You knew things like how hot he liked his showers and what yogurt he liked on his muesli in the morning.

That first—and only—step into his professional world, was in a venue just like this one where Harry was filming a music video for a few days. The stage was set up like it was for live a show, and you overheard someone saying setting up for a shoot was more involved than for an actual performance. Harry wanted you to see what this part of his world looked like and despite them not fitting in either of the Friends or Family categories you'd laid out for People Allowed To Know About You, his "Team" were people Harry felt safe introducing to you. (NDAs were a powerful thing) He led you through the hallways by the hand and stuck his head into every room with a cheery, 'Hullo, just bringing Y/N around to meet everyone.'

You remember one person declaring they were happy to be meeting you. Harry was too young to be married to his job, they said with a relieved tone, That it was good he'd found his Someone. Harry beamed at that, looking down at you as if thinking, Yeah, I have found my Someone.

Now you stand back in the pit side of stage, and Harry looks down at you with a hesitation that makes you more uncomfortable than when you were watching him film that music video. His assistant has brought you back to where his team are standing, and you feel more than one set of eyes take stock of you returning, a shared glance between a manager and the girl shadowing you. A wide-eyed exchange that says, That was the last thing we needed. When Harry comes to the side of stage between songs, he's hunting for a bottle of water, but you can see he's come to that side because his eyes are focused on hunting for you.

When he sees you've returned, he slowly takes a sip of water, eyes not leaving yours. You feel like he's admonishing you in his head, seeing how weak you were, that you ran away after a little eye contact. There's a distaste there, you think, and as he's putting the cap back on the bottle, Harry opens his mouth like he's going to try to say something to you, but he stops. He frowns at his hands as he puts the bottle down and then turns away, bringing the microphone back up to his lips and slipping back into entertainer mode.

"In a lot of ways, I hate this next song," he starts slowly, speaking over the band as they begin to slow down the tempo of the night. A smoke machine whirls to life and pumps out a few big clouds, shrouding the stage behind Harry. "I really hate it."

He pauses. And your insides freeze in your chest. You're hanging off his every word, just like every other body in the room. Harry stands right on the front of the stage, toes almost touching the drop off. He's looking out at the audience and lets the microphone hang at his side. Makes no move to keep talking. Was he looking for someone out there, or was he running over what he was about to say in his head? Rehearsing it, making sure it was exactly what needed to be said.

Where you used to see thoughtfulness you now see calculation.

Give nothing away. Sell only the product. Push the song. Let people come to their own conclusions.

"This is a song about," he says carefully, a crack to his voice that sends adrenaline shooting straight down your legs, "About regretting that you've hurt someone. And about the helplessness of wishing you could make them forget what you said, but … Knowing you can't take it back."

You watched Harry trail around to the upright piano on stage and sit himself down on the stool. He stares at his hands hovering over the keys for a moment too long, but you're sure Harry's audience would let him take a hundred more. You see what perhaps they don't—the hesitation. You'd witnessed it enough to spot it, even across the stage in the dark from thirty feet away.

He's not sure about playing the song.

You think about contacting him by telepathy. Saying, I'll leave so you can go back to your show. You don't have to pretend I'm not here, I'll just go. Like I wanted to. Like I tried to.

But he plays it.

You've not heard it before, but the rest of the room has, and they sing along with him. You hear a couple of thousand people sing with your ex-boyfriend about him regretting the way he treated you. And you're almost able to talk yourself out of believing it's about you, you can nearly reason with yourself that it's kind of vague. Other than naming the cafe he'd sat in the car park of a hundred times waiting for you to return with a takeaway, it could be about anyone, really.

But he sings out a line and looks straight at you, and his eyes say it's yours. The song. The apology that's not been said yet.

I get the feeling that you'll never need me again.

His voice cracks again as he sings it. And the hurt part of you says it's just a vocal technique Harry's trained to call on at any time. It doesn't speak to anything other than a creative choice on his part. But the vulnerability is hard to ignore, the low hanging, remorseful unease in the room. He fumbles a string of notes on the piano as he sings and you're hit by the overwhelming need to make him stop.

Witnessing whatever he's currently feeling with this song is more uncomfortable than you've ever been, and a switch in you to protect him flicks on. You look around at his assistant, his manager, trying to see if there's even a hint of anyone else feeling like this moment needs an intervention, needs to be stopped.

The song ends. And you're glad.

Harry takes a few moments on stage to get ready with a guitar for the next song. He doesn't come over to your side of the stage for a drink, or to ask the roadies for anything. Instead, he flies straight into the next section of the set. Seemingly recovered from the heavy moment you felt as though you nearly drowned in. He'd never sung about you before.

Nothing remotely personal about your relationship ever left Harry's house.

And you find yourself wishing it would all just go back there.

The sixth lie was that he wouldn't break your heart.

Harry did though.

He broke your whole life.

So when he comes off stage at the end of his gig, there's little in you that wants to hang around. As soon as the lights go down and you see Harry's silhouette cross the back of the stage and hop down the stairs to the floor, your gut churns, and you wish you were one of the people in the rest of the venue. The ones now turning and slowly filing out of the building. Going back to their lives peacefully.

Instead, you're ushered behind the curtain again, into the small area that's immediately buzzing with life. You watch Harry as if he's moving in slow motion though. As soon as his boots hit the concrete floor somebody is tugging the suit jacket from his shoulders and swapping it for a grey hand towel that he uses to wipe down his face. His hand pushes his hair up over his head as he smiles at a handful of people, and then his eyes find yours. The smile drops, and he takes a steadying breath in.

"Y/N," he says loudly. Straight. Without expression. It's a statement, but also you sense a question there too. As if you might not turn out to be the person who was standing there. He holds your gaze over and through the people walking around and in front of him. He's handed a bottle of water and offered a second one which he takes, "Y/N," he says again, pulling his head back to beckon you over.

You roll your lips together when you've made it to the vacant space in front of him. Harry passes you the extra water bottle and cracks the lid off the one he keeps for himself. You grip yours with both hands but don't make any move to open it. Standing in front of him didn’t feel like you thought it would. It’s less of a kick I in the gut, and more a reinforcing of things that you’d figured out since being without him.

"Hi," he says hesitantly, briefly looking at someone behind your left shoulder. Then, you feel his eyes back on your face.

You speak to his forehead, not ready to have things inside you unlocked by eye contact, "Hello."

"This way," Harry says after a moment, running the towel down his sweaty face again.

He leads you down a hallway, wiping his face on the towel two more times as he walks. Harry continuously looks over his shoulder at you to make sure you're still following him, as if there was somewhere for you to hide in the concrete hallway. When he gets to his dressing room door, he kicks it open and holds his arm out to let you in first. The room smells like his cologne, a whiff of his final moments before going out on stage and a time portal back to mornings you'd spritz it on yourself before leaving the house, it was your scent then too. There was a small sofa and table, a long mirrored table with his laptop open next to a stack of papers, his screen saver bouncing back and white photos across the locked screen. His overnight bag and its contents were sprawled out over the floor in the corner next to where you can see his phone charging.

"You look good," is the first thing he says to you. Trying to pull your attention probably. Maybe hoping to get on the front foot charming you. You could tell him he looked good as well, particularly in the cream suit they had him in tonight, but you were sure there were no shortage of people who already had.

"Your show was good," you deflect away from the personal, eyes tracing the bottles in the corner of the table, "Great setlist."

"Needs a shakeup, if we're honest. Getting stale," Harry shrugs, and you see it in the mirrored wall. He's still standing by the closed door, watching you walk into the centre of the room and take stock of what's around you. "How have you been?"

"Fine."

Harry coughs uncomfortably, "Thanks for coming, wasn't sure you would."

"I wasn't sure either."

You sense Harry realising this conversation was going to be exactly as difficult as feared it might be, he nods his head and moves over to the sofa but doesn't sit down, "Did you want a seat?"

"I'll sit here," you perch yourself on the chair in front of his laptop, crossing one leg over the other and hitching your elbow at the back so you're facing Harry. Keeping the room between you.

Harry sits on the arm of the small, burgundy sofa, and tosses the towel onto the seat next to him, "Looked like you were a little upset there for a moment."

"My boots are new," you quip, kicking your top foot out towards him, "Blisters."

He sighs again, and you start to feel chastised, but there's a more substantial part of you that stubbornly bunkers on down to playing this role, taking power when you'd never had it with Harry before. He knew it wasn’t blisters that had emotion welling up in you during his set. But just the same it wasn’t his place anymore to be privy to your feelings. And you weren’t going to let him gallantly try to take it. You weren’t old friends who could pick up where you left off. You were broken lovers.

"I just thought we could do with talking," Harry says finally.

"You could have uninvited me, you know, I assumed—Well, it's not like I've been expecting to still attend any of your shows the last six months. This one didn't have to be different."

He almost looks hurt, "You live here."

"How was Italy, Harry?” you turn the conversation around abruptly because you didn't like where it was going, and he was starting to frustrate you. You didn’t need him pointing out you lived in this city alone now since he left. As if you didn’t know.

Where watching him on stage hit you with longing and heartbreak, memories you found yourself irrevocably attached to, being in the same room as him now is only making you see the real Harry. The one who's so good at rearranging the energy in the room to make you feel you need to give more of yourself. The one who's an expert at asking a leading question and relying on the other person to be vulnerable first, lead the charge out the gates.

The man who lied to hide you every day for nearly a year, even when it was hurting you more than protecting you. The hurt from him was worse than the invasion of your privacy would have be. The distrust you felt didn't counteract the security you were still afforded by anonymity. The way you felt you still had something to prove—something to earn from him—and that you just needed to earn the right to your place in Harry's life.

"I've missed you," he said finally, "Just …"

"You've been lonely?" You raise your eyebrows at him.

"What?" Harry's defences click into place, "No, it's not that—obviously yes, I've been lonely—but also I just—I miss you."

You start nodding, and your gaze drifts around the room, "Yeah, I … What exactly do you miss, Harry? Because—I mean, it was kind of shit, don't you think?"

"Shit?" he looks horrified, "What was shit?"

"Harry," you say simply, telling him to cut the bullshit with your expression. "Come on."

"I loved you," he declares loudly, proudly, “We had a great time together. I don't think it was kind of shit at all."

That's when you feel tears come to your eyes. Of course he didn't think it was shit. He still didn't see where the problem was. Couldn't see it. He would go right back to That Fight and keep going the way you had been if he could. Harry would keep living that life with you, he would have kept on going the same way. You'd still be the secret. A fight about a holiday would have resolved itself with compromise and make-up sex, and you would have gone right back to sneaking out of venues and pretending not to know him in crowded rooms.

Your lips turn up in a smile of sorts as your tears beg to fall but don't, "You haven't changed," you state with a small, incredulous laugh, "You've not figured it out. Nothing's changed," you repeat, shaking your head.

Harry's confusion is plain, and if he thought your tears were because you miss him there's something like a flicker of doubt, as if he's reading what's in front of him again and maybe getting a different story.

"You can't have a life with someone who doesn't want anyone to know you're in their life," you state simply.

And that was it, really. That was the nuts and bolts of it.

The secrecy eroded any meaning your relationship with Harry had. The doubt that cast. The burden on you to continually prove yourself, to audition for the role every day only to never graduate from understudy.

You watch Harry's throat constrict tightly as he thinks about the words that come from his mouth, "I loved you," he repeats, "I didn't want anything outside of us to fuck us up."

"You can't control the world that way, Harry," you're observing him carefully, "You definitely can't control people that way. I get why we started that way, but a year in, Harry? A year."

He looks at his feet, and it's the first bit of remorse you've ever seen him show over it.

"I know you loved me," you keep going, "But you can't use that as some bandaid for the lying, for the hurt that was. You can't erase the consequences because you thought you were protecting me or us or yourself. The truth doesn't cancel out the hurt of the lie."

Harry's still starring at his boots, "You could have said something."

You blink once.

"Fuck you," bursts out before you can stop it, and Harry's eyes snap up to yours, you laugh at his nerve and rise to your feet, "Fuck you, Harry. I couldn't have. I felt like I had to earn it. Like maybe I was one gold star away from getting there. And then when I did push it, you ended it."

"That's not—

"—It is," you insist, shaking your head at him, "You put all your insecurities and shortcomings on me and then had the nerve to tell me you loved me as if I was the defective cog in the wheel. As if you saying you loved me put all the onus on me spoiling it."

"I'm a private person—

You put your hand up to silence him, turning on your heel to face Harry as your pacing halts, "Stop. I don't … I don't care," you breathe out simply, "I really don't. Our relationship wasn't The One. It's one we'll both learn from for the ones that are coming. I hope you learn from it," you add quietly, "Because I have."

"Y/N," Harry says your name like it's an idea he's unsure of.

"That song wasn't about me, was it?" You ask because on stage he said it was about regretting hurting someone and there's been no hint of a 'sorry' from Harry since.

His brow creased, "It is. I am. I wanted you to hear me play it tonight. It's for you."

You smile, the idea that you've grown beyond this situation blooming inside you, "You've not said it."

"What?"

"You haven't said you're sorry," your head shakes again, a fresh wave of your new perfume—the one that's just yours—filling your nose, "You've said you missed me. And that I look good, but you've not said you're sorry. You can put an apology into the song on stage, but you can't admit you were wrong to the person you wrote the song about."

His shoulders sink, just the slightest amount, and you know that you've seen enough. You've said enough. He's not going to have an epiphany on this, not in this conversation with you. You've gone as far as you can with this. As far as you're willing to.

"I'm going to go," you take a step forward, "Thanks for the song, your voice sounded really nice on it."

And you walk passed him with just a final wave and the slightest touch to his shoulder. He doesn't move from his seated position, but his neck cranes and he watches you leave. Eyes hunting your back for answers, like the manuscript for what just happened might show up there. But it doesn't, and you slip out the door, the clip from your shoes fading from his hearing quicker than he wanted it to.

Your insides are shaking by the time you make it out onto the street. No part of you wants to turn back and look up at his name in lights again. You're done with seeing the best of everything in him. Harry's one of the shitty boyfriends you'll tell someone about one day in the future, and they'll call him a dickhead with anger dripping from their tongue, promising to never treat you the same way.

And they won't.

You'll both have bumped and bruised your way into each other's lives, and there'll be a satisfying click with them there wasn't with anyone else. You'll have journeyed through all the maybes and not-quites, and you'll land in that forever place with the person who wears the badge of Yours with a fervour nobody before them has.

And Harry … You'll go and be Nothing to Him.

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