#that second pink and white outfit is when she finally falls head first into the rabbit hole bc she realizes her husband is in on it

[wheelercore]

Anyways.... thinking about Rosemary's two pink and white outfits when she realizes her husband is part of the conspiracy. The second one looks an awful like Eleanor El's. And its after that last scene in the clip she fully starts to spiral down the rabbit hole and tries to get away.

@boysdontcryboycry this might interest you uwu

[021894s]

— 10 the wedding [4.9k w]

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PAIRING: brothers bsf! sunghoon x f!reader

WARNINGS: cussing, unprotected sex, oral sex (f and m receiving) MDNI!!!!

AUTHORS NOTE: ITS FINALLY HEREEE, the turning point in the story hehe hope you all enjoy. likes and reblogs appreciated <3 HEAVY ON THE MDNI PLEASE

As you and Sunghoon step foot in Japan, excitement fills the air. You make your way to the hotel, the both of you in the back of a cab enjoying the scenic views of Osaka. light conversation flows between sunghoon and the cab driver while you lean your head against the window, trying your best not to fall asleep.

when you finally arrive at the hotel, you tiredly make your way to the back of the car to grab your suitcase, though sunghoon beats you to it, grabbing both yours and his, giving you a tired smile “i got it”. you reciprocate his smile and mutter a small thanks, admiring his gentlemanly gesture.

you both make your way to the check in at the lobby. “I only have one room available, double bed if that’s ok?” the receptionist tells you. you and sunghoon look at each other and he shrugs. “that’s fine, thank you” you take the room key and sunghoon leads the way, still pushing both of your suitcases towards your designated room.

sunghoon opens the door and as you both enter your eyes widen in realization. "maybe when she said double bed she meant one bed meant for two…” you state as you stare at the one bed. he looks at you “indeed there is one bed… i’ll take the couch” you look over to said couch, there was absolutely no way sunghoon’s large self was going to fit on the tiny little couch in the corner. hell you probably didn’t even fit.

“no we can share the bed it’s fine” you tell him, too tired to even think about the possible consequences of being so close in proximity to your “boyfriend” for the weekend. “are you sure? i’ll be fine on the couch” he furrows his brows, genuinely questioning whether you’re okay with it. “sunghoon im sorry but you do not fit on that tiny ass couch” he chuckles “ok, bed it is then”.

you both begin to settle in, going about your night routines. You shower first, doing your extensive skin care routine and changing into a more comfortable outfit. You have to admit your pajamas were a tiny bit skimpy and definitely not appropriate for your current situation but you didn’t think you’d be sharing a room, much less a bed.

when you’re done getting settled, you pull down the cover and climb in to the big white comfy bed. you hear the shower turn off, the bathroom door slightly ajar. curiosity takes over and you slightly peek through the door, catching sight in sunghoon in nothing but a white hotel towel wrapped around his waist. you stare at his large muscular form for a couple of seconds but look away once you feel the heat creeping up on your face. “get it together y/n” you mutter to yourself.

you place a pillow between you as a barrier. It's a cliché move, but it makes you feel more at ease. when sunghoon comes out of the bathroom dressed (thank god) he chuckles at the pillow in between your spots. he lifts the covers, pausing in his tracks once he sees what you’re wearing, a pink silky tank top and shorts that sends a shiver down his spine. he quickly pulls the covers over his body, shaking those not so innocent thoughts out of his head. you exchange a few words, wishing each other goodnight, before drifting off to sleep.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The next morning, as the sunlight gently streams into the room, you stir awake. you feel an unusual weight around your waist. confusion fills your mind, slightly lifting the covers only to realize sunghoon had complete disregarded the barrier and inched as close to you as possible during his sleep.

you turn your head to face him, he looks so peaceful and you can’t help but admire his perfectly sculpted face. his perfect bushy eyebrows, his long lashes, and the tiny moles that were so gracefully scattered in the most precise places. you quickly catch yourself in your own thoughts, carefully slipping out of sunghoon's embrace.

you head toward the bathroom, deciding to get ready for the day. today was the you had been dreading. jeno’s wedding. in all honesty you were more nervous about your situation with sunghoon rather than being in attendance at your first loves wedding. there’s just so many things that can go wrong. you just wish luck was on your side.

you finish your makeup, opting for a more natural, pinky look when you hear Sunghoon yawn. you peak your head out the bathroom and see him stretching, clearly unaware of how he held you during the night. "Morning, how’d you sleep?" he asks, his eyes still filled with sleep.

“pretty good, you?” “this bed is so fucking comfortable” he answers throwing himself back down, staring at the ceiling. “and you wanted to sleep on that fuckass couch” you laugh. “listen I am a gentleman and there was no way I was sharing the bed if you felt uncomfortable” “well i appreciate it, I also thought the bed was pretty fucking comfortable” you both laugh and he begins to pull the covers off his body so he can join you in getting ready for the day.

“any plans before the wedding?” he approaches the sink, grabbing his toothbrush. “uh I was thinking of going to the beach… if you wanna tag along” you avoid contact, trying to avoid how domestic this all feels. “yeah maybe we can grab lunch at that little restaurant we saw yesterday” he asks still in the process of brushing his teeth. “sounds good to me”.

after your plans are set in place, he stares at you for what feels forever. it makes you nervous “w-what?”, “i kinda need to change, would you mind… getting out?” “OH YEAH sorry, i’ll be over there… waiting… take your time” you quickly leave the restroom and miss the way he smiles at your actions.

you take advantage of the little time you have alone and change into an outfit more suitable for the beach. you opt for a lovely two piece with a white top and matching skirt. you’re in the middle of pulling up your hair into a half up half down style when sunghoon comes out of the bathroom wearing a white button up, the sleeves rolled up showing off his impressive forearms, and black pants. Sunghoon was amongst the small population of men who actually had a sense of fashion.

you glance back at him through the mirror, quickly looking away when your eyes meet. he found the way you were so nervous around him so fucking cute. you had always been so outspoken and outgoing so seeing you slowly fall apart at his presence was something he liked a lot more than he should. “ready to go?” he asks once he shakes all those thoughts off. “yeah” you reply while gathering your stuff into your cute shoulder bag, and out the door you were.

•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

You both decide to take a walk along the beach, enjoying the sun and the sound of crashing waves. As you lay on your towel, soaking in the warmth, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. Sunghoon sat next to you, his camera in hand, capturing the beauty of the ocean and the clear blue sky.

"can I take a picture of you?" Sunghoon asked, his eyes soft and warm.

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks as you nodded, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and excitement. Sunghoon snapped a few shots, his gaze lingering on you a little longer than necessary. It all felt so domestic, so intimate, and you hated how much you liked it.

After spending some time at the beach, you and Sunghoon decided to grab lunch at a nearby restaurant. As you waited for your food, you engaged in light conversation, talking about anything and everything.

"Are you nervous about Jenos' wedding?" Sunghoon asked, his eyes searching yours.

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "Not really. I'm more nervous about our little scheme and it getting back to Heeseung somehow."

Sunghoon chuckled, his gaze never leaving yours. "don't worry, he won’t find out. And if it helps, I'm not nervous at all."

His words sent a flutter of warmth through your chest, and you couldn't help but feel a little giddy. Sunghoon was always so charming, so effortlessly smooth, and it made your head spin.

As you and Sunghoon were engrossed in your conversation, a waitress approached your table, checking in to see if everything was okay. She smiled warmly at the two of you before her eyes lingered a little longer than necessary, a knowing look in her gaze.

"You two make such a cute couple," the waitress commented, causing you to sputter in surprise.

"Oh, we're not together," you quickly clarified, feeling a rush of embarrassment wash over you.

The waitress raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on her lips. "Well, you should be. You both would look great together."

Sunghoon glanced at you with a small smirk before turning back to the waitress. "Well, thank you," he said, a hint of amusement in his tone.

You felt your cheeks flush with heat, a mix of embarrassment and flustered emotions swirling inside you. Sunghoon thought it was cute, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest at his reaction.

The rest of the meal passed in a haze of laughter and stolen glances, the memory of the waitress's comment lingering in the air between you and Sunghoon. And as you left the restaurant, you walked side by side back to the hotel in a comfortable silence, the both of you mentally preparing for the act you’ll have to put on later.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

back at the hotel, you stepped out of the bathroom, ready for Jenos' wedding, Sunghoon couldn't help but feel a pang of admiration at the sight of you. The black dress with a floral pattern hugged your curves in all the right places, the open back and off-the-shoulder design adding a touch of elegance to your ensemble. Your hair was styled beautifully, and your makeup was done to perfection, enhancing your natural beauty.

Sunghoon had seen the dress on you before, after all he’s the once who bought it for you when you went shopping for the occasion, but with your hair and makeup all done up, it was like seeing you in a whole new light. It was hard not to admire how the dress accentuated your body and how soft your skin looked. He had to remind himself that his best friend would not appreciate him ogling his little sister.

"You look stunning," Sunghoon complimented, his gaze lingering on you.

You blushed, a shy smile gracing your lips. "Thank you. You look pretty handsome yourself," you returned the compliment.

Sunghoon was dressed in a three-piece suit, but he had opted to leave the button-up shirt behind, wearing only a leather vest under his blazer, which showed off his chest and his fancy Tiffany necklace. He thanked you for the compliment, his eyes soft and warm.

As you both got ready to head out for the wedding, Sunghoon brought up the plan, wanting to make sure you were completely okay with it and didn't want to back out before it was too late. You reassured him that everything was fine and that you were comfortable with him by your side.

The car ride to the wedding was filled with a whirlwind of emotions and feelings for you. You tried to prepare yourself for what was to come, knowing that the night ahead would bring about a mix of nostalgia, longing, and perhaps even a hint of uncertainty. But with Sunghoon by your side, you felt a sense of calm and reassurance that helped ease your nerves.

you and sunghoon approached the wedding venue, the tension in the air was palpable. Sunghoon immediately sprang into action, going around the car to open the door for you. His hand extended to help you out of the car, and before you knew it, his arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. You could feel the heat of his touch through your dress, and his lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, "Are you ready?"

The intimacy of the moment caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but be surprised by Sunghoon's commitment to the act. You replied with a soft, "More ready than I'll ever be," feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement building in the pit of your stomach.

As you entered the venue, you were greeted by the sight of beautiful decor and flowers adorning every inch of the room. Sunghoon's large hand remained firmly on your waist, guiding you through the crowd with ease. He seemed to be the most comfortable and relaxed, his confidence shining through in his actions.

When it came time to take your seats, you were unsure of where to sit, on the groom's side or the bride's side. Sunghoon made the decision, choosing to sit on the bride's side. You couldn't help but wonder if his choice was strategic, positioning you both in a way that Jeno could see you. whether that was the case or not, you didn't mind one bit.

As you settled into your seats, Sunghoon gave you a warm smile and took your hand in his, lacing your fingers together and placing them on his lap. His eyes locked with yours, and you felt a rush of heat spread through you. You tried to focus on the decor and the guests in their best attire, but Sunghoon's presence was impossible to ignore.

You couldn't help but wonder if Sunghoon had previous experience in fake dating or if he had been preparing diligently for this moment. His ease and confidence in the situation left you both impressed and slightly flustered.

Your attention was soon drawn to the end of the aisle, where Jeno, your first and only love, began to make his way down. He greeted the guests, his eyes finding yours and then narrowing slightly as he saw Sunghoon sitting next to you, hand in hand. He seemed a bit confused. he dated you for years and was no stranger to the fact that heeseung was very protective over you. he found it a little strange that he’d be ok with his best friend dating you out of all people, but he had more important things to focus on as he made his way to the altar to marry the love of his life.

The ceremony began, and Jeno stood at the altar, surrounded by a variety of beautiful flowers, waiting for his bride to walk down the aisle. The weight of the situation settled on you, and you reminisce on your past relationship. thinking about how this could’ve been your wedding and you would’ve been the one walking down the isle in a beautiful white dress, marrying the love of your life.

music filled the air, signaling the bride's entrance, all the guests stood up in anticipation. The bride looked radiant in her white gown, gracefully making her way down the aisle, her eyes locked on Jeno. He looked so in love, looking at his wife to be the way he once looked at you. a pang of nostalgia hit you square in the chest. Sunghoon noticed your reaction and lightly squeezed your hand, offering a silent comfort.

"Are you okay?" Sunghoon whispered, concern evident in his voice.

"Yeah, just a little caught off guard," you replied, trying to push aside the wave of emotions.

The ceremony proceeded swiftly, with the exchange of vows and rings, culminating in the couple sealing their marriage with a kiss. You felt genuinely happy for Jeno, despite the past that lay between you. You knew that one day, you would also experience the joy of finding true love and sharing your life with someone special.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

After the ceremony, the guests moved to the cocktail hour, where friends and family mingled and caught up. Jeno and his wife made their way over to you and Sunghoon, and Jeno greeted you warmly, thanking you for coming. Sunghoon instinctively wrapped his arm around your waist as you exchanged pleasantries.

"Y/N! Long time no see. Thanks for coming," Jeno said with a smile.

"Yeah, thanks for the invite, and congratulations," you replied, trying to keep your composure.

you turn to sunghoon, introducing him "this is Sunghoon, my boyfriend," you added, gesturing the tall man.

Jeno shook Sunghoon's hand firmly. "Of course, how could I forget, Heeseung's best friend right?" Jeno said.

Sunghoon forced a smile. "that’s right. thanks for inviting us. congratulations”

“this is Karina, my wife” jeno introduces, “hi!! thank you so much for coming!” her bubbly personality and happiness doesn’t fail to radiate from her.

“so when did you two get together?” jeno asks, his tone full of curiosity. “um we-“ perhaps you should discussed this with sunghoon ahead of time. “-about six months ago, we always knew we had feelings for each other but of course heeseung was the reason we couldn’t act on it, but we’ve been happy, right, baby?” he presses his lips against your cheek and pulls away with a smile.

the pet name and the kiss, it was all too much and the shiver you felt down your spine at his words was one you wanted to feel over and over again. “yeah, it was hard in the beginning but i wouldn’t change anything about it” you reply looking over at sunghoon who’s gaze was already fixed on you.

“you two are such a cute couple! i expect an invite to your wedding too” karina says to both of you, effortlessly joining the conversation.

"Of course, whenever the day comes," you replied, feeling slightly flustered.

your conversation was short lived as the couple was whisked away by the photographer. you let out a deep breath that you didn’t even know you had been holding in. you turn to sunghoon once again, "Do you think they bought it?" you whispered.

"Yeah, but loosen up a bit. You're too nervous," Sunghoon advised, giving you a reassuring smile.

Taking his advice, you both took a sip of the champagne being served, letting the tension of the evening melt away as you embraced the role you were playing.

｡ ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

As the night progressed, you and Sunghoon mingled with the other guests, engaging in light conversations and enjoying the festivities. At one point, you excused yourself to touch up your lip gloss in the bathroom. When you emerged, you caught sight of one of the bridesmaids practically throwing herself at Sunghoon. jealousy surged through you, even though you knew he wasn't your real boyfriend. Blaming it on the alcohol coursing through your veins, you mustered up a boldness you didn't know you had and walked over to them.

"I'm back, baby," you said, pressing your lips to his in a light peck. Sunghoon was clearly caught off guard by your sudden display of affection.

"Who's this?" you asked, taking Sunghoon's arm and throwing it over your shoulder.

"I'm Winter," the bridesmaid responded with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"Well, Winter, thanks for keeping my boyfriend company, but I'm back now. You can leave," you said, your tone direct and firm.

Winter rolled her eyes at you, turning to Sunghoon and giving him a flirty smile as she handed him a tiny piece of paper. "Call me if you get bored," she said with a wink before striding away.

You were clearly pissed off, snatching the paper from Sunghoon and crumpling it in your hand. "Fucking bitch," you muttered under your breath.

"What was that all about?" Sunghoon asked, confusion evident in his expression.

"Sorry, I think I'm a little drunk," you replied, trying to brush off the incident.

Sunghoon teased you about being jealous and playing into the role a little too well. However, in the back of his mind, he couldn't shake the feeling of the tingling sensation on his lips from the unexpected kiss. He grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing server, gulping it down in one sip, trying to distract himself from the swirling emotions that had been stirred up by the encounter. Sunghoon realized he was in trouble, and the evening was far from over.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

when you both had enough, you made your way back to the hotel, you and Sunghoon both lost count of how many drinks you had. The alcohol had blurred your senses, making everything feel a bit hazy and carefree.

"You look so sexy tonight," you whispered to Sunghoon, your inhibitions loosened by the effects of the drinks. "I'd be lying if you calling me 'baby' didn't turn me on."

Sunghoon's moral compass tried to reason with him, warning him that giving in to your advances might lead to regret in the morning. But the fog of alcohol clouded his judgment, and his desires began to outweigh his reservations.

"Yeah?" Sunghoon replied, his voice laced with a hint of desire.

“mhm” You scooted closer to him, cradling his face in your hands, the tension between you palpable. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation until finally, you both leaned in and shared a kiss. The moment was filled with a mix of longing and intoxication, the chemistry between you undeniable.

As the car pulled up to the hotel, you both hurriedly exited, continuing your intimate moment as you made your way to the elevator. The air between you was charged with electricity, your hearts racing with anticipation.

Once inside the elevator, the confined space only heightened the intensity of the moment. You and Sunghoon couldn't resist each other, and your make-out session continued, growing more heated with each passing moment.

When you finally reached your room, Sunghoon wraps his arms around your waist from behind, pressing kisses against your neck as you fumbled with the door, his growing length pressing against your backside. The desire between you was undeniable, and the night held the promise of passion and forbidden desires that neither of you could resist.

when you finally manage to get the door open, sunghoon eagerly urges you inside, closeing the door behind him as you turn around, pressing your lips to his once again, in a sloppy kiss.

sunghoon wasted no time in taking control of your body. He kissed you hungrily running his hands over your curves as he explored every inch of you. you moaned with pleasure as sunghoon’s fingers found their way to the zipper on the back of your dress. he pauses in his actions, looking at you through your hooded eyes, silently asking for permission to take off your dress, you nod and you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

"Fuck," sunghoon muttered under his breath, clearly enjoying himself. "You're so fucking hot." he lets out praises as he gently throws you on the bed, climbing on top.

you couldn't believe what was happening. you’d always been attracted to sunghoon, but you never thought it’d get to the point where the two of you were so desperate and needy for each others touch.

you push off his blazer, your fingers beginning to fumble with the buttons on the leather vest he had underneath. he grew impatient taking matters into his own hands and taking it off in record time. you pull him back down by his neck, pressing your lips to his once again.

his lips continue to trail down the valley of your breasts, soft moans coming out of you involuntarily. he uncalsps your bra expertly, engulfing your tit in his big hand, taking the other the other into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud. tiny gasps escape your lips, his attention diverting to you other breast.

he begins peppering kisses all the way down your body, feeling that heat pooling in your lower tummy as he gets closer and closer to where you need him most.

he teases you, leaving wet kisses on your thighs and right above the seam of your cute black lace panties. “h-hoonie don’t tease p-please” you manage to get out and fuck does that nickname make him even harder. “tell me what you want baby” he tells you in a whisper, looking up to find your eyes. “want your tongue” you tell him in response, eyes fill with lust and desire.

“yeah? my baby wants me to eat her pretty pussy?” his words make you let out a moan “fuck yes hoonie, n-ned your tongue”. without another word his fingers loop under the band of your panties, tugging them off in one smooth motion.

“fuck pretty you’re so wet for me” his tongue darted out, like a stripe up your slit, making you moan with pleasure, he savors the taste “knew you’d taste so fucking good” and with another lick, he’s plunging his tongue in your wet hole. your back arches and your fingers thread through his hair, lightly tugging, “yes hoonie, right there, keep going”.

his lips work their way up to the little bundle of nerves, sucking on your clit. he inserts his long finger, and then another, the combination make you see stars. “s-shit hoon im close” you moan out. at your words, he adds a third finger, stretching you open getting rougher with the way he was plunging his digits inside your wet cunt.

“cum for me pretty, let me hear you”.

a couple more pumps and you were coming undone on his fingers, letting out a pornographic moan. despite your orgasm washing over you, sunghoon continues to lick at your cunt, beginning to overstimulate you. as much as you love his tongue, you need to have his cock in your mouth.

you pull him by his shoulders, signaling for him to come up. he hovers over your body, pulling his lips to yours, you taste yourself on his tongue, his chin messy with your juices.

you use all your weight to flip him over, taking him by surprise as you straddle him. you kiss his lips once again, trailing down his neck and his muscular toned body. he’d been hiding these abs this whole time??? you quickly work on getting his pants off, pushing both his pants and boxers down in one go.

his thick, long cock springs out, slapping against his abdomen. you take it in your hand, wrapping it around his length while holding eye contact. he lets out a shuddery breath “s-shit baby, you don’t have to”. already knowing what you were planning to do.

you giving him an innocent look that drives him crazy, “it’s ok, i want to”. you stroke him a couple times before leaning down to lick his pink mushroom tip. a glob of salvia leaves your lips, mixing with his pre cum, coating his thick shaft.

he lets out a groan, his eyes fluttering shut and his arm going behind his head, meanwhile his other hand tangles through your hair, his grip somehow making you even hornier.

without warning, you take him into your warm mouth. swallowing his length and stroking what didn’t fit with your hand.

the sight was one he never thought he’d ever be seeing. the pleasure was all too much for him.

“fuck baby, you’re doing so good f’me”

you sucked and stroked sunghoon’s cock, your mouth and hand working in tandem to bring him to the brink of orgasm. sunghoon’s breathing grew shallow and quick, his hips thrusting forward as he fucked your mouth.

Just as sunghoon was about to cum, you pulled back, a smile on your face. you stood up, pressing your body against his, grinding your hips against his.

"not yet," you whispered in his ear. "I want you to come while i ride you”

climbing onto his lap, he almost came insistently at your words and lustful voice. “i need you inside me”

sunghoon grunted with pleasure as you grabbed him, aligning him with your entrance. you slid down his cock, your pussy tightening around him. He couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement at the feeling of your wet heat against his erection.

"Fuck, you feel good," he moaned, his hands gripping your hips as he thrust upward.

you gasped with each stroke, your body trembling with pleasure. you had never felt anything like this before, and you were loving every minute of it. “you’re s-so big”

"keep riding me like that baby," Sunghoon groaned, gripping you ass "I don't want to cum yet."

you followed his instructions, bouncing up and down on his cock as he continued to thrust upward. you could feel his cock growing thicker with each stroke, and you couldn't wait for him cum

"shit, you’re so fucking tight" Sunghoon grunted, losing control. “i’m so close baby, cum with me”

“i’m cumming” you shuddered with pleasure. “where do you want me to cum pretty?” “inside hoonie, n-need you inside, m’on the pill” within seconds you felt the warm liquid coating your walls.

"Fuck, you're amazing," Sunghoon breathed as he leaned up to kiss you.

you reciprocate his kiss, pulling his softening cock out of you as you collapse onto the bed next to him.

his arms instinctively wrap around you, his lips showering you in small neck kisses. the both of you too tired and in a haze to do any after care, the exhaustion kicks in and you both drift off to sleep, a mess of tangled limbs under the white covers.

you both didn’t know what you were in for the next morning, too caught up in the pleasure to realize that you’ve just made the biggest mistake.

｡ ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

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[darksxder]

rush it

pairing: frat boy! chad meeks-martin x fem! bff! reader

summary: you only rushed a sorority for chad’s sake, but you can’t imagine regretting it after the game of capture you get to play one fall night

warnings/tags: requited unrequited love, bittersweet (alleged by tae), skimpy bunny costume, angst and tension filled fluff, friends to lovers, deserves a second part honestly

word count: 2.1k

a.n. : I think this was subconsciously inspired by @ethansluvbot’s pfp of regina george in her bunny costume, so thank you fr!

sdt: @belle82devart

dt’s: @ethansluvbot , @midnightaemond & @spiderlover03 

If someone had told you that you would be where you are right now, maybe a year ago-hell a few months ago, you would’ve laughed in their face. Might have even flushed pink when they detailed your outfit. The fact you were dressed like a bunny, or perhaps the Kappa Deta Pi’s version of a bunny that mostly resembled Regina George’s costume rendition at Halloween.

And you were just about as skittish as an actual bunny as the fluffy white pom-pom attached to your ass rustled in the grass. Currently, you were crouched behind a bush, heart nearly beating out of your fucking chest as you heard the hoots and hollers of the various boys around.

You weren’t the only bunny. 

There were plenty of girls hiding around campus or dashing across the trails and parking lots of Blackmore University dressed as bunnies. But every man on campus, or at least everyone trying to get into a frat was a fox. Mind you they just had orange paint stripes over their bare chests, no confection or ball of fur needed to be attached to their ass.

Which only infuriated you on account of feminism and not because you had a bad habit of looking away whenever someone was shirtless. Totally. It made keeping watch difficult. And every five seconds your eyes went blurry with the glitter Tara forced into your eyes inner corner. A thick, pure dazzling white she poked there with her finger after she lined your eyes with dark brown gel eyeliner. Then go so far as to add a pretty bright pink blush to your nose and cheeks, and spread a clear gloss to your lips.

Just that and then you were off, out of the sorority, sprinting across the Blackmore University campus, and running for your furry little life. Immediately feeling your quite exposed ass cheeks freeze in the biting fall wind.

You were just thankful you could keep your knee-high boots, as they were heeled yes, but black leather, thus very warm. They even covered the majority of your stocking-clad legs. The large bunny ears glued right into the headband snug on your head were so tight it was giving you a migraine, especially when you had to double back for them twice because you ran too fast against the early September wind.

You had two hot pink flags on each side of your hip, and no one had touched yours yet. you were free.

You wanted to say you weren’t trying hard or you never usually took these types of childish games seriously but it would be a lie. You take EVERYTHING seriously and your heart is racing so fast on account of the fact you’ve fallen into that cloying and tempting trap of pretending it was real. Like you were truly being hunted like you might die, and it wasn’t too far-fetched with the masked murderer going around NYC. But you tried not to think of that. To think of anything else as you finally saw him.

Chad.

He was nearly gasping as he slowed from his dead sprint, his tanned and built chest rising and falling harshly. The tilted orange stripes were dull when you first saw them on his brown skin, but now they proved stunning in the moonlight. You allowed one glance, a second to note the soft light casting deep shadows across his muscled abdomen, leading your eyes to his sharp v-line dipping past the hem of his dark blue jeans. The sight was past your eye line but not your mind. And sweat was running in perfect droplets down his chest, the veins in his hands prominent as he clenched them, as his eyes darted from tree to bush to tree and bush. Looking for you.

Your heart pounded harder as he stopped dead still, right in front of your bush. A good twenty feet away. But he made you. Thinking of options you noted you could run, but something told you it wouldn’t do you much good.

But if there was one thing that you loved more than escapism through these types of games, it was fucking winning these types of things. So with your hands sliding down your hips, you checked to see if your flags were still there. And with a soft touch, you picked up a rock and chucked it into the bush across from you and watched as his head swerved towards it. As soon as his attention left you, and you no longer felt that hot iron brand to the side of your face, you dashed.

Some might say running in heels was difficult, especially in the platforms you were in that almost made you taller than Chad. They are correct, as you find it is indeed difficult. Especially on grass.

In a mere second, you hear this man catch up to you, your tired heart jumping at the thundering footsteps quickly echoing yours. With one of his strides, being three of yours, truly damning your advantage of being a past track star.

And when thickly muscled arms wrapped around your waist and pull you up like it’s nothing, you scream. Even though you know it’s Chad. Because he wears the same cologne and you saw him spot you. But mostly because he picks you up like it’s nothing always, no matter how many times you say you’re ‘too heavy’ for him to do so. It was the way he was gentle and firm, not yanking you into the air. Instead, it felt like he was helping you there almost.

But the fact his warm sweaty arms were around your bustier-clad middle had your pulse racing as fast as a rabbit's run.

“Gotcha'” he purred near your ear, laughing as he heard you squeak.

“Chad, put me down!” you lament, voice tired, obviously disappointed too. You had been so fucking close to winning. Hadn't seen another bunny in hours. But you just heard him hum out a 'no'.

His hand is now on the back of your plush thighs, your tits pressed firmly against one side of his back, painfully smothered against the strapless push-up set, the underwire digging into your sensitive flesh.

“Chad my boobs will fall out!” you squealed, face beet red, fists pounding sadly at his spine. To no avail. He didn’t even so much as flinch and you knew it was because you never actually hit him hard, you couldn’t even imagine it.

“Sounds like a good time for me. Wanna switch sides so I get a good view?” he asked, voice deep and teasing. But the smug drawl was cut off as the lip of your boot slammed into his bare ribs. And you were laughing into the starry night sky as he huffed out a harsh breath, gripping your thighs higher, almost fully folding over.

“Can’t hurt a man for trying, or I would’ve said that eventually if you didn’t quickly prove that you would indeed hurt a man for trying.” He rasped, voice fake pained. Back in the teasing sing-song tone that made your eye twitch.

Then he ripped the flags off your hips, pausing for a second as if to soothe the area there, hand firm and warm against your cold rear, your face flushing at the soft caress. And you just gave up. Honestly, truly, gave up, as he carried you across the vast freshly cut fields and through twisting trails, hell half the quad as other partygoers watched and laughed at the sight. But it wasn’t mean-spirited like you expected, it was almost camaraderie, but you still felt a bit like a child in time out. Helped by your huffing as you rubbed at the glitter in your eyes, sick of the burning it caused you. Hating the pain in your spine from the slumped-over posture. But as Chad reached his dorm and dashed up the stairs, to the very obvious approval of his frat mates, if their whoops and smirks were any consolation, you stopped whining about it.

Just taking the bouncing of your tits and head against his back in stride. Soft and feverish cheek smushed to his shoulder blade, just focusing on the ground beneath you, tracing the tattoos you could reach on his back.  It’s almost an unconscious action if you could ever touch him and not be fully aware of it. But you couldn’t.

You had been in love with him for years, and although he was an affectionate person, his touch never ceased to give you jitters. No matter how many years passed, it had been thirteen. It never failed to make your stomach flip so quickly and suddenly you’d think you were on a rollercoaster that just dropped 3 stories in height.

“So, are you planning on skinning and eating me?” You muse, one hand propping up your cheek, elbow purposefully digging into his muscled shoulder hard. He laughed a beautiful sound that had your cold thighs squeezing together.

“If that means I get to see you naked, then yeah.”

“Chad!” You yell, going to kick out at him again before he flipped you back over to his chest, cradling you like one might a bride, your boobs pressed harshly against the side of his chest, nearly spilling out of the small cups.  

“Okay, so you caught me..” you roll your eyes hard, trying to play along, knowing he wouldn’t drop it without your playing it up. “Whatever will you do with me now, Mr. Fox?”

He snorted, hoisting your ass under one arm and fiddling with his dorm keys in the other, his own heart skipping at your gasp at the action, your soft and perfect arms thrown casually around his neck in a vice grip.  

“I understand why they took away your barking privileges when you played Nana in Peter Pan that one year. Your acting sucks.” he laughs, smiling down at your scowling self, trying desperately to take you seriously with the soft white bunny ears on your head. But it was difficult, what with them being all fluffy and big, with a hot pink center, the right one folded over slightly for optimal effect.

“Whatever. I wanna go home and shower, Chad. Been running from sweaty dudes all night.” Your eyes fall to the carpeted floor, now actually glad he was carrying you, not wanting to get your nice leather boots sticky with whatever marred the boy's dorm carpet. You could only imagine. And instead of taking the bait to tease you, flirty personality stroked, he went quiet.

“You are home,” he said, voice soft, no ounce of teasing there and your gaze shot to him. And you felt yourself swallow hard, blinking back tears you would have sworn came from the glitter.

“Is this your not-so-subtle way of asking me to stay over?” You tease, heart, pounding a mile a minute, feeling sweat trickle down your neck, sticking your hair to your shoulders as you tilted your head up at him, curious and waiting. Soft and sure, gentle. No judgment there. From the warmth in his eyes, he knew that.

“Yes. And figured I earned it since I caught you. Plus you’ve been working too hard lately. You need rest.”

The tears fall now as his words swallow you whole, making that tension building for weeks, bunched in your shoulders subside. You could only sniffle and nod, understanding the truth in his words. The reality. You had been running yourself into the ground with club applications, sorority pledges and rush, all of it too much.

“You’re right. Just this once,” you nodded slowly and sincerely, “I’m surprised too.”

Chad rolled his eyes so hard that you laughed through your tears. “Okay. Am I sharing your bed, or camping out on the floor? Or is your roomie home, the cute one?”

He scoffed, hand pressed to his bare striped chest in mock offence. “I am the cute one, not Ethan Landry.” he bit, pushing open the door and stepping inside over the frame with you still in his arms. It felt a little like you had just been married, but you dashed that thought down before it could truly take hold.

“Sure. whatever you wanna believe..” you coo, eyes narrowed in mockery.

He just shook his head, glancing up at the clock on the far wall. “He’ll be gone 'till two am. Can get out a movie, shower and get to bed before then, huh?”

Nodding, you flushed deeply as he handed you a basket he kept on his desk. Eyes widened as you took in its contents. It had your glasses container (your spare), contacts, tampons, pads, Burt’s Bees chapstick (wild cherry) and your favourite makeup wipes. You smiled wide at him.

“This is giving relationship.. like you really like your bestie.”

He shook his head quickly, cheeks heating under your teasing tone. “No.”

“Ehhh I don’t know, this is giving no commitment issues actually. it’s giving I want you in my dorm and life so much, I made a special box of your stuff for you.”

“It’s giving all that?” he mocked, glancing at the tiny basket cradled in your lap, but you just nodded firmly, lips pursed in surety.

“We’ll then maybe it’s accurate…” he whispered, breath soft.

And you felt like you had been punched, mouth agape in shock for a mere moment before you pulled it together as your head spun. “Then let me shower before this glitter makes me fully blind.” You groan, throwing in the last bit because you know he’d give his ever so clever and original ‘you’re already kinda blind’ without it.

And you hate that you loved him for it. Hate that you loved him period. Hate that you wanted him so much it ached, that it made tears spring to your eyes when you thought of it at home in your dorm.

Knowing that after your shower in his bathroom, you would steal his shirt and boxers and crawl into his twin-size bed, the laptop screen lighting up the room as he pulled you in closer by the waist, his face half in the bend of your neck and half watching the screen. Bare chest pressed against his oversized shirt he lent you. It made you so excited you might actually scream. But you knew from the many past experiences so similar to this one, that it was hard to fall asleep like that. When you were surrounded in sheets that smelled like him, generally surrounded by him, with his bare arms around you. In those moments it was hard to deny you wanted him. And you needed to because he was your best friend.  

Nothing more.

[katsukikitten]

Synopsis: Your worst nightmare comes to life after you receive a call well after midnight that isn’t from your husband Bakugou but about him. Rushing to the hospital you’re thankful to find him alive but when he comes to he asks to see his wife despite you standing there.

Warnings: Angst, dark themes, mentions of child loss, mentions of/contemplating abortion, mentions of difficulty conceiving. Cheating if you squint

Final Chapter : The final good bye, I’ll break my promise one last time. wc 8414

Master List

“Bakubro.” Kirishima calls out, garnet eyes following you into the sky. Eijirou knows, he fucking knows Bakugou just shouted out your name and it's only a matter of time before Bakugou becomes as volatile as one of the grenades on his tapered waist. The giant redhead swallows thickly as he tries to get to Bakugou as fast as he can. 

Who the fuck was that brat? Who the fuck were you? 

ssǝuʇǝǝʍS

Sweetness

Evol noʎ

Your voice echoes in his head, each pound of his heart sends blood rushing in his ears and beneath your voice, beneath the throbbing pain Bakugou hears a faint and constant BEEP that keeps time with his heart. 

Memories exploding like fireworks in quick succession, so quickly it's difficult for Katsuki to keep up.  

That's ɹno new ǝɔᴉɟɟo ɹǝƃɐuɐɯ. Ain't she a llod?

Come on Bakuqɹo you think she's ʎʇʇǝɹd

ɹᴉɐɥ ʎʇʇᴉɥs ɟɟo ʞɔnℲ

Fuck off shitty hair 

It takes a moment for Bakugou to decode the snippets of conversation and although he does so with speed another memory begins to overwrite the last. 

Vividly he remembers you at that desk with the water stained rings. Of your upturned nose the first time he asked you to dinner, the second, the third, and the fifth. Six times, six times it took over the course of a year and only then you accepted. 

Eijirou better be right about your 'heart of gold' 

The memory starts with you with your nose scrunched up, in a cute sundress you wore under a stuffy jacket for work, at the end of that date he saw a bright smile on your face. 

He knows it's the same dress you wore today, with the same floral print. Hydrangeas. 

The image begins to move, revolving around the dinner table as if it were the sun when really you were becoming the center of his universe. And with each revolution came a change. Your outfit, the style of your hair, the weather outside. Rain, sun, snow, stars. Faster and faster but not too swiftly that Bakugou couldn't see the one constant about the moving memory, of your wide smile and how your eyes softened. 

You break the movement, leaning forward to blow out the candle that sat between you two whispering softly 

Yes, a thoundtimes yes. 

Snowy static of old film starts to clear as Kirishima comes into view. Deja vu settles in Bakugou's bones as the scene unfolds. He's asked this question before, Will ya be my best fuckin man? Except this time Eijirou is older than he recalls, this time tears fall down Kirishima's scarred cheeks. Salty water falling over puckered skin that wasn't there before. Bakugou knows shitty hair didn't cry the first time he asked, and saw the doubt in his eyes that his best friend pushed down for his sake. This time was garnet eyes, pearly with joyous tears as he claps his hand on Bakugou's back pulling him into a hug. 

'Happy for you man, she’s such a good fit for you" 

The tear that falls from Kirishima's cheek turns into a stream of percolating coffee as Bakugou now stands in the small apartment from his dream. A pink cup filled with ice that melts under the hot stream.

"But I want it in your studded cup," You pout voice weighed with sleep, "It tastes better when you make it in your cup."

"Well what's mine is yours and what's yours in mine ain't til next week." Bakugou had joked back, turning around to hand you your coffee and as you reach for it, brushing your fingers against his, you are no longer in his skull t-shirt. 

Now lace clings to your skin emphasizing your beauty as it danced along your arms, back and throat in blinding white. The wedding dress he remembered in vivid detail, the same one from the dream he told his mom about last week with tears threatening to crack his voice and give him away. 

Like it does now as he twirls you around and around in the first dance of joined souls, bound by rings and an unbreakable bond.   

"Breathtaking." His voice echoes as he twirls you and the bottom of your dress sweeps away the thought and leads to the next. 

Of all that lace discarded on the floor and him leaning over you. Nipping and kissing at your shoulders and he rasps with fluttering lashes. I love you . I fucking love you. Each panting breath darkening his vision before a loud BEEP brings him to something that makes his breathing slow and shallow. 

Makes it difficult. 

Beep

A soft pleading voice. 

Beep

Smooth skin tracing along his fingers and features. Pushing back hair from his forehead. 

Beep 

A soft voice humming songs he loved, songs he knew his wife rolled her eyes to from how often he played them. Singing the lyrics she remembered. 

Beep 

He remembers that, he knows he remembers that because he tried so hard to open his eyes then, move his useless and parched tongue to let you know with a loving tease you were off key and mixing up the lyrics to each song. 

Beep 

But he was tired, so fucking tired. And his body was not only unresponsive but heavy. Hands, so many hands, pulling him down, down, down into the deep dark depths, whispering sweet nothings in his ears. To keep his eyes closed. 

Beep

Come back to me sweetness. 

Then the images shatter and each time he tries to recall what he's just seen the snowy static returns. Wrapped heavily behind self doubt; that he hadn't imagined a love that ran so deep to fill the void that his first wife left him with. 

That he did deserve what you gave him. 

Snapping jaws bring back the biting question of why the hell that little brat showing off his fireworks looked so much like him. 

Did he have a fucking kid? Did his dreams of a family come true while he slept? 

Was it with you? The ghost that winks in and out of his mind like a lighthouse in the fog. If he were to get closer would he crash and burn?

The fire in his chest seems to think so. 

His friends seemed to think so. 

But a bigger question pulls at the sinew on his bones. 

Was he still lost in time?

He felt like it especially after those flashes as if he were suffering from an episode. The scar on his temple threatens to split his head in two as the movie played at such a speed it only spanned the few seconds it took Kirishima to get closer to him.  

Even in his daze Bakugou sees the worry in Kirishima’s face. The warring emotions that flash in those garnet eyes that he’s known since he was 15. That someone he knows might hold all the answers, especially with how he looks towards the sky after you. 

“You know her?” He grabs Kirishima’s metal shoulder gears roughly. If Bakugou was taller he’d have Kirishma off his feet easily, instead the metal starts to turn as orange as his gloves. 

“You fucking know her?!” He snarls again, rage thick in his throat. 

“Katsuki, please.” Eijirou is only begging because of the proximity to the public and of course Bakugou couldn't give less of a shit. Spreading out his hand and popping off explosions too close to civilians for the hero commission's liking. The crowd backs up from the warning as Izkuki lands next to the large men cracking the pavement beneath his red boots. 

“Kaachan…” He tries with lifted hands as Shouto makes a barricade to keep the civilians safe by shielding them with a wall of ice.  The action catches Bakugou’s eyes and pictures of Momo and Shouto standing closely together flood his mind. 

Why the fuck were those hanging up in his home? 

Where were the pictures of Bakugou and his alleged wife? As far as Bakugou knew there were none to be found that existed after his 21st birthday.

“You.” He snarls, pointing at Shouto who's eyes widen with surprise. 

“Don’t play dumb you half and half bastard and don’t you dare fuckin lie. I know you’re fucking my ex wife. My wife… whatever the fuck she is! I know you’re balls deep in Momo.” His palms heat up as he thinks of melting off that bastard's face. 

Or should he? Why'd he call Momo his ex wife first? His head throbs as his heart starts to crack, deep fissures running along the muscle. Breath tight in his chest. 

"No, Katsuki it's not like that…" Shouto's brows furrow upward. The icy hot hero's heart is slowly being cleaved aparts as he looks at what was his first real friend. The two bonded over their remedial classes despite being the top of the class and that bond was exactly why he fended off Momo's advances. He thought he was helping.

They all did. 

But no good deed goes unpunished. 

“Katsuki please!” Kirishima grabs onto his middle lifting him up to keep him from advancing. Like a cat Bakugou slips from Kirishima's grip, rounding on him with a nasty punch that sends him flying into the ice wall. Large body leaving an indent in the icy barricade as the other two men begin to circle Bakugou. 

"Kaachan, we don't want to fight." Yet green electricity and black whip danced on Izuku's thick fingers. A two v one fight would be easy for Bakugou, especially with how intimately he knew not only their quirks but his friends' fighting style. Tsk if he can even call them that. 

"Stop using my given name. You buncha assholes don't deserve it!"  He shouts, blasting Izuku with an AP shot that sends him flying into Kirishima who was just recovering from the lethal punch. A stare down between Shouto and Bakugou begins, reminding the hot head of the festival all those years ago. Funny how the blonde was so driven then by fighting. Driven by obsession to prove he was number one on his own fair terms. 

Prove he was worthy of something. 

The mixture of rage and the calm before a fight ebb in his blood, putting him in the perfect head space for the impending match. Shouto narrows his eyes and Bakugou knows he'll lead with ice. 

He always does. 

Bakugou's fingers twitch, palms heating and when he takes in a breath it's like something is pulling his mind in another direction. Away from the fight at hand and to more pressing matters. As if he was suddenly remembering something important he needed to do. The phone in his pocket started to become a heavy weight as he racked his brain and these new fragmented memories for any hint as to what the password to his cloud was. 

Since his friends have been lying to him, he knew his phone wouldn't. Couldn't. Bakugou should have some sort of evidence on if Momo was actually his current wife or if it was you, the visage of his perfect love. 

Just as Shouto brings up his arm, Bakugou aims his palms towards the ground. Launching himself into the air as his body goes on autopilot landing on top of that damn apartment building with the sad smiling door man that he’d pass on his runs. He isn't sure why he's up on this roof top. 

Isn't sure why his eyes are starting to burn as the picture of that snowy VHS starts to become clear again. 

The more he tries to quiet his mind the more that brats name drowns out his thoughts. 

Daiki Daiki Daiki 

Bakugou snaps his eyes open just to stare down at his phone, that password that eluded him over the years taunting him. It had to be this right? That name his "one true love" whispered to him while half asleep. Telling him in full confidence the name she'd chosen for their future son. 

The name you chose. 

Resounding like the hit of a gong as his fingers type out what surely couldn't be his password. He didn't know that brat. He didn't know you. It was just some weird fucking dreams. Some made up stories to soothe his broken heart. 

D ▇ 

D A ▇

D A I ▇

D A I K ▇

D A I K I ▇

Enter

Folders pop up, flooding the screen with images that his phone has neatly sorted for him. Albums of friends, family, weddings and one dedicated to just you. 

He stares at the wedding one for a long time, the album photo was of Bakugou and his groomsmen. Kirishima, Shouto, Izuku, Denki, Sero all lined up, all sharing a laugh. The ties and small peonies on the lapel are all a dusty pink. His heart races. No way, no fucking way. They all look older here than he remembers, then when he married Momo and he knows for a fact his wedding colors were red and black. Her request, cause he never gave a shit about that. He just wanted to build something with her. 

But she was just too focused on other things and Bakugou, Bakugou had to let her go. He knew that then. He knows that now. 

The thought comes on its own as he taps the album letting out a whimper as he sees that dress. The one he dreamed so vividly for a week straight this month, in a picture of himself and you gently feeding the other cake. Looking at one another as if they were the sun and stars above. 

With each swipe of his thumb the memories come flooding back, less cryptic than they were before, hell than they were a few minutes ago. Feeling more solid, more tangible. 

Real. 

But what sends it all home, that Bakugou hadn't made you up, that his son he daydreamed of was real was the album dedicated to you. 

Picture after fucking picture of you looking stunning. In his t-shirt with the fading skull under the moonlight. With you looking over your shoulder to see if he's following on a busy sidewalk. Of your side profile, face to the sun like a content cat, lips curled into a small, effortless smile. He knows the place in the last one, holding up his phone to the exact spot. 

Here, on top of this apartment complex building, exactly where he stands. 

Bakugou Katsuki begins to break.

Blasting the locked door to the rooftop open, rushing down a set of stairs to the apartment he came home to hundreds of times. 

To the one he hadn't come home to that night. Your voice underwater again as the hazy fight comes to the front of his mind. It was over Momo wasn't it? Now and again that fight would come up, normally your insecurities blossomed under stress and after the two of you suffered a third loss in a row he knew you hadn't meant it. 

Hadn't meant that he loved her more. 

Fuck fuck but he proved you right didn't he? 

All he can remember are bright lights and asking for his wife and saying it wasn't you. That it was Momo.  After that the details get hazy. 

Punching the code to the apartment door and it opens with ease. Instead of your sweet voice, or the smell of dinner or even the sweet scent of your shampoo he is met with a plume of dust. 

The apartment is as the two of you left it. Images, no memories of the two of you flash around the apartment until it's all just blurred together. 

His breath comes out shaky as he tries to come to terms with the past, wait how many years? 

With the past six fucking years. 

All six years he broke his promise to always be by your side. 

You did so much alone because somehow he had forgotten. 

Damning himself for it now. 

Fuck fuck FUCK HE FUCKED THIS ALL UP and the things he said or probably said to you when he woke up. He needs to apologize. Needs to see you.  

Needs to see his son and his family and, and 

And why the fuck did no one tell him? 

Why didn't you tell him? You were his wife weren't you?!

He rounds for the door as Kirishima huffs in the doorway. 

"Why did you keep it from me?" Bakugou ignites,  one hand grabbing onto his bare skin, trying to keep the rage at bay, to stop himself from attacking his best friend. Especially when tears are free falling from Eijirou's garnet eyes and the split lip Bakugou already gave him. Instead his hand heats up far too much, burning the skin beneath his glove, even then the ash blonde doesn't flinch. The pain was nothing compared to how he fucking felt.

How he knows he made you feel. 

"I didn't want this. I didn't fucking want this." Kirishima chokes out, head still held high to block the doorway until his friend has calmed down, worried he'll go nuclear. He looked it with the sweat beading his brow, the grip on his arm as he damaged his skin. 

"I just don't fucking get why no one told me. Why no one tried to fill me the fuck in THAT MOMO WAS NOW MY EX WIFE!" He grips at the front of his shirt. 

"ALL OF YOU LET ME MISS SO MUCH. SO FUCKING MUCH OF MY SON'S LIFE. LET ME ACTIVELY CHEAT ON THE WOMAN OF MY DREAMS. LET ME LEAVE MY WIFE ALL ALONE." Bakugou's screaming now, with each syllable the room clouds with more of that dangerous caramel smell and at this point Kirishima isn't sure Bakugou is in control anymore. Still the mountainous man explodes in his own right. 

"I WAS DOING AS YOU FUCKING ASKED!" It echoes around the room, skin reacting from his emotions as he goes unbreakable, "YOU ASKED ME TO WATCH HER. TO CARE FOR HER. TO DO WHAT SHE THOUGHT BEST AND I DID. THAT FUCKIN QUACK DOCTOR PRACTICALLY TOLD HER NOT TO TRY!" 

Kirishima huffs, deactivating his quirk and still goes on, "I was against this from the start, I tried, I tried so so hard to help you and give hints as much as I could but the more Daiki grew, the more you weren't picking up on, I had to stop. For your wife's sake. She was…she was healing with every birthday Daiki had. And I wasn't going to break my promise to you, I kept her happy." 

Burning ember eyes clash with molten garnet before Bakugou shakes his head. Both men winded as if they've run marathons. 

"I'm glad you fought for her. I'm really fuckin thankful you did. But no one was FIGHTING FOR ME! EVERYONE WAS FINE WITH ME LIVING A FUCKIN LIE. EVERYONE INCLUDING HER!" 

Eijirou sees the hurt in his eyes, in the tears that fall and evaporate with each swipe of Bakugou's hands. Almost burning his own cheeks in the process. Kirishima comes closer, slowly, ever so slowly he wraps his arms around his best friend. Around his brother, pulling him into his chest and squeezing him tightly. 

"She never told me anything that happened while she stayed by your side in the hospital. Only what the doctor said. I think something bad happened but you'll have to ask her." Kirishima's booming voice is small, a quake to it as he feels Bakugou melt in his arms. Defeat and sorrow hardening the anger into brittle stone. Bakugou finally wraps his arms around a thick torso letting out yet another unsteady breath. 

"I want to see her." He says with conviction and Kirishima knew better than to hold Bakugou back this time.

"Mommy, what are you doing?" Daiki asks, a bit of panic in his voice as he watches you stuff anything you can get your hands on in his room into a small duffle bag. 

"Packing." One word answers are all you can manage as sadness and anger fight over the intention behind your actions. 

“Okay so Daiki’s birthday party is going to be awesome! Mitsuki insisted  on bringing the cake since Daiki gave her a handmade invitation. Everyone should be he- uh what’s going on?” Mina asks as she finally makes it to the door, watching you rush into your room across the hall. She sees the suitcase on Daiki’s bed, watches his little hands undo all of the work you just did by throwing the clothes back on the ground with scared, confused huffs. 

Mina stands there for a moment before she springs into action, trying anything she can to figure out what exactly happened while you were out. 

Guilt is a word too shallow for the feeling that Mitsuki has. The thing that sits heavy in her chest and weighs down her limbs. She can’t blame this feeling on old age, no no, this was all her fault. Should she be seeing Daiki? Is she trying to buy his love with this cake and hero merch he asked for, exploiting her knowledge of his dad that he knows nothing about. The thought is almost enough to freeze her to the concrete beneath her red bottom heels. 

No, no if that were true she wouldn’t be having these thoughts in the first place, still it creeps in, weaving between every other thought or so. She made a mental note to talk to you about this, if she was over stepping boundaries by accepting the invitation he sent in “secret”. Mituski had called you right away and you explained that you knew from the start, had to help him spell out the address. Mitsuki would feel better if she had a mom to mom talk about it, since she was lucky enough to be in Daiki’s life, and by proxy, yours, she wasn’t going to fuck this up. 

Not this time. 

Mitsuki sighs, readjusting her grip on the bags in her hands and just as she's starting to feel okay about this party a familiar voice calls out to her.

“HAG?!” Bakugou screams, it's almost enough to jar Mitsuki. Despite the mistreatment she’s given you, since her son married you he never called her hag again. She turns on her heel, lip curled up in a snarl. To anyone else Mitsuki looked irritated, annoyed but her son knew that face. He made the same one when he was trying to smooth out the hurt that disrupted every rational thought. 

“You fucking knew too?” He hisses and Mitsuki sighs, eyes flickering from her son to the giant behind him before boring right back into her son. Katsuki is shaken, burn mark winking in and out of Mitsuki’s peripheral as she holds eye contact with him. 

Just as Katsuki is about to break the silence his mother does first. Voice strong and laced with emotion, shame, hurt, or maybe it was conviction. Katsuki wasn’t sure but he felt it pinch at the point of his heart, pulling it down into his stomach and he knew he needed to listen. 

“If you thought for one second, one fucking second, that I knew about Daiki, that I knew about her being pregnat six years ago, then you’re dead fuckin wrong. Had I been let in on this little secret that I had a grandbaby on the way then we wouldn’t be standing here right now. You would have been forced to remember every goddamn detail even if I had to hit you with a fuckin lead pipe myself and all before she had that baby! But there’s a reason she didn’t tell me and I won’t shy away from the truth. I said nasty shit to her thinking I was ‘protecting’ you from another heartache, so wrapped up in it that I was willing to say shit I didn’t even mean. Tsk and you can bitch me out, tell me how you told me so later. But right now.” She points her finger in her son’s face, watches the anger slowly melt from his eyes as she goes on.

“That woman in there, your fuckin wife. Went through something you and I will never understand. I’m sure you were hurt too boy and that you’ve been hurtin but keep this shit in mind before you go in there and nuke the poor Kirishima residence. She made a decision and stood by it. She endured it because she thought it was best for her, for her baby, and for her family. And even though it doesn't fuckin feel like it, that means you too son. She did what she thought was best for you.”

He stares at his mom for a long, long time. She never was a mom in the traditional sense, not like he’d seen in the movies, or in books, hell hardly anyone was a mother like Mitsuki. She was loud, brash and down right irrational at times and yet Katuski doesn’t think he would have gotten along with anyone else. Would have wanted any other woman as his mom. 

Mitsuki, as sharp-edged as she was, still knew best how to comfort her son. Knew exactly what to say that he would get it best, once she sees that he understands she turns back around. He sucks his teeth and walks towards her. 

She waits for her son to catch up and when he falls into step both glaring at one another, after a moment she smiles, turning away but her son still catches the tears in her eyes. 

"Glad you're back to normal Suki."

“Momma, please I don’t wanna go, it’s my birthday I-” He pulls away from you, your grip tight around his small arm as he tries to push your hand away with all his might.  

“I’m sure everything is fine, I haven’t heard anything from Kirishima, let’s just have his party and then-”

“And then what?” You whirl around on Mina, “And then fucking what? We just wait for him to show up? To ruin our lives again? He’s- he’s done nothing but destroy me. It’s all he knows how to do, just look at his fuckin quirk.”

Tears cloud your vision, dropping your son’s arm and he runs towards Mina, hiding his face in the fabric of her bright pink pants. Mina’s eyebrows furrow, she hears it again. The sound of your heart shattering at her feet like the glass of a vase. 

Smaller and smaller the shards get and Mina is starting to worry you won’t be able to put yourself back together after this. With horror you watch your son shrink away from you as you reach for him. Moving to stand behind Mina, face still to her leg and that acts as the final nail in the coffin. Body filled with the urge, the implosive need you’ve wanted to do since you got that phone call from Kirishima at two am. 

You want to run away, get as far away as you can and cease to exist because all of this, of this fighting, this rebuilding? 

It was useless, futile to fight against a fate that deems you unworthy of happiness. 

Besides, Mina was ten times the mother you were, it wouldn’t hurt to leave Daiki with her now. 

So you turn, rushing for the door with no plan, no money, no possessions, just the hurt in your heart.  Only to run into a solid body. One that you want to melt in, tell them all of your woes as you soak through the black fabric your face rests against, the comforting smell of spiced caramel. You push yourself away from him, gasping as you stare into his eyes. Slowly Mina scoops up Daiki and takes him into another room.  

“You don’t fuckin mean that.” His voice is gruff, each step he takes forward you take back until he has you almost cornered. Enough room that if you wanted to you could slip away but not without one of his powerful hands catching you. 

“I-” You clear your throat and catching Kirishima out of the corner of your eye gives you strength, “I do fucking mean that!”

“Ever since you woke up, you, you’ve ruined everything that I thought we had.” Funny how even in the back of your mind you still blamed him over something he couldn’t control. Your balled fists moving on their own as you beat into his chest. 

“You did this to us. You fucking DID THIS!” And he just lets you, lets you hit him until you’re shaking, tears falling down your cheeks in fat droplets. He grabs onto your wrist when you try to give one last week punch. Squeezing without hurting you as he searches your eyes.

He isn’t sure what he’s looking for anymore. Familiarity, love? It didn’t matter, none of this did, just the question that burned up his throat. 

 "Why didn’t you tell me?” He swallows thickly, “All this time I was, I was fucking drowning, and do you know who saved me?" You, sweetheart you.  This whole time I was fighting to find you" 

The room is shrouded in thick silence, the air tangled up with grief and things unsaid. 

"So why weren't you fighting to find me?” His voice is strained, looking down at you and you know, as if it wasn’t obvious before, that he remembers. 

Remembers everything, things would have been easier now if he hadn't, still there is the smallest part of you that is relieved. 

Before you can answer, little hands fight with Mina and the door to the room as Daiki rushes in, having overheard everything. 

"Dynamight-kun is my daddy?!" He stares up at the pro hero. At his idol as his eyes begin to water. The emotion is too big to fit in his chest and too confusing. He's overjoyed, elated, how cool that his dad was THE Dynamight but, "But that can't be right, Daddies don't make Mommies cry and you made my Momma cry!" 

His little temper flares, running towards the pro and letting off the most powerful pops his little hands can muster. Tearing at the fabric of Bakugou's pants, exposing the skin of his thighs but the skin remains unmarred. Not from Daiki's control but from lack of power. 

If Bakugou is ever allowed back into their lives, it's the first thing he's going to teach him because Daiki's explosions will only get more powerful from here on out. 

Instinctively he gets down on Daiki's level, fighting his own emotions on all the things he's missed out on but he can already tell you're raising him perfectly on your own. Would he just fuck this up if he came into the picture now? 

Bakugou takes off his glove with his teeth, grabbing onto Daiki's popping hand looking deep into his son's eyes. Letting his heart do the talking. 

"Sometimes daddies fu- mess up and make Mommies cry. Sometimes Mommies make daddies cry." He squeezes his little fingers gently, hoping this won't be the last time he sees admiration for him in his son's eyes, "Everyone makes mistakes, even moms and dads. Do you forgive me? I didn't mean to be lost for so long." 

He's asking Daiki, he's asking you. You look away, unable to stomach seeing the pair together. Not because you are jaded or bitter that Bakugou was naturally a good dad. Of fucking course he was.

But because it hurt too much. Hurt to think about how all this time you didn't have to do it 'alone' even though you had Mina and Kirishima, Gods know you appreciated all they did for you, you still wanted and needed the support of your fucking husband. 

Daiki's eyes look back and forth between Bakugou's before he wraps his arms around his neck. Squeezing so tightly as if he'll never let go and immediately Katsuki hugs him back. Presses his little body to his chest and grits his teeth harshly to keep the tears from spilling over. 

"I forgive you. Granny said you were lost, so it's not your fault just don't make Momma cry again." Daiki's voice is soft, quiet and kind, "But momma has to forgive you too." 

Daiki pulls away but keeps his hand firmly pressed against Bakugou's throat, as if Katsuki will disappear if he doesn't. 

Another disruption steals your answer away as Daichi bursts into the room, fat tears falling down his cheeks as he looks at his mom and dad. At Daiki, you and Bakugou's strained reunion. 

"Does this mean Daiki and me aren't brothers anymore?" Daichi asks between hiccups, his quirk activating on its own as he tries to rub his eyes with jagged fingers. Kirishima is quick to catch his hands, grip a little too tight as the scar on his eyebrow throbs. 

"Mindful." He says softly, before Eijirou can comfort him, Daiki tackles Daichi in a hug, uncaring that his quirk will hurt him. It wouldn't be the first time they accidentally hurt the other with their quirks. 

"Of course we're still brothers!" He squeezes and his voice is confident but tears well in his eyes, "You'll always be my big brother!" 

"And we can still be our own daddies?" Daichi hiccups again causing the room to erupt in laughter except for Katsuki and Mitsuki. 

"I'll explain later." You giggle as you watch the two boys' sweet hug quickly turn into boyish rough housing. Things return to normal so easily for kids, maybe it was because they could forgive so easily. Knew their relationship and love for one another was far more important than pride. 

But as with all things, one grows out of that.

Kirishima catches Bakugou staring at you, the red giant can tell his friend has more to say. 

"Boys, come on. Let's go play outside while Mom and I get things ready for the Bakugous- ah for everyone. Okay?" He goes to usher everyone out but Daiki is hesitant. 

"Wait!" He rushes out of Kirishima's hands and bashes his head against Bakugou's thigh, "I'll see you later?" 

Bakugou's hand follows the natural curve of Daiki's head, soft blonde strands in his fingers. 

"Yea kid. I'm sure as hell not goin anywhere now." Daiki searches Bakugou's eyes for the truth and when he sees it he smiles widely. Running towards the exit before stopping in his tracks turning on his heel to hug his mother's legs goodbye. 

"Love you. Call me if daddy makes you cry again." He says it so softly and you smile. 

"Love you too. Be safe sweetness." Daiki takes that as his dismissal before he rushes towards Daichi who's bouncing on one foot to the other as he calls over his shoulders. 

"I will!" 

Now with the room empty except for you two, Bakugou turns to face you. Brows furrowed silently waiting for your answer. 

Fuck this was hard.

“I…The doctor said it was best to go with what you were saying. That Momo was your wife and it hurt. It really fucking hurt for us to have that argument and then you say that shit when you woke up?! What was I supposed to do Bakugou, I was obviously never good enough for you. Your mom was right about that.” A humorless laugh leaves your lips

“She said that?” His eyes are dark, before he blinks away the rage, “What did I say then?” 

“You were a total fucking asshole! Calling me an extra, telling me not to use your given name.” A crack in your voice you wish you didn’t have, it hurt even after all this time, stupidly you go on, “Taht I was some damn extra and I shouldn’t exist.” 

“Sweetheart...”

“Don’t, don’t you fucking dare use that again. You called her that too ya know. Here I was thinking I had a special pet name from you and-”

“And you did.” Bakugou runs his hands through his hair, “I didn’t call her too many pet names, and I-. Damn it. In my head I thought you were her assistant. I lost so much time but I remembered so much of you.”

It’s his turn for a humorless laugh,

“I made Momo your coffee, I remembered how you liked it. Kept ordering the flowers for her that you liked. Everytime I bought her a gift it was something I would have picked out for you.” He sighs out, “I dreamt of you, of our wedding. It had me so choked up I even called the hag about it.”

“Don’t call her that.” Habit to chide him over it.  He should respect his mother, even if she did act like a total bitch sometimes. 

“I just- I just took you wanting Momo and her wanting you, when you woke up as a sign that we weren’t meant to be together.” You openly sob now and he steps closer. Even as you try to push out of the hug until you give in, accepting his comfort at least for now.  He squeezes and it feels good. Feels good to finally cry on his chest. To let it all out to the person you wanted comfort from the most. 

The smallest part hated you for it, for giving into him. You-you couldn’t keep doing this. 

“Fuck fate, fuck that quak doctor, and fuck the universe. Gods forbid but next time tell me. I’m sorry it took me so long to find my way. Please, please let me be Daiki’s dad.” He lets out a shaky breath, “Let me be your husband again.”

In the distance you can hear the kids screaming and laughing. Of Mina welcoming in a bunch of kids who shriek when they see Red Riot in full uniform. Thinking of your son, of the hurt on his face, of the brave face he’s put on this whole time when he so desperately wanted to have a dad you sigh out.  The decision made itself. 

"You can be his dad.." Relief floods his system but only for a moment, "But you can't be my husband again. Not now." 

In that moment it was as if you ripped out Katuski’s heart, holding onto it greedily as it bled out in your hands. As much as it pained him, he understood completely. Look at how far his beautiful, amazing, capable fucking wife got without him. 

So if you wanted to hold his heart and onto your own until the end of time, then you could have it. He was just thankful to be able to see his son and to see you, even if that was from afar. 

“Okay, I can do that. Whatever you need me to be, I'll be.” 

Six months later

“Tamaki, Mirio, seriously I can’t thank you enough.” You say as you place down your last box of office supplies onto your brand new desk just outside Mirio’s and Tamaki’s office.

“Please we were begging Kirishima to have you back.” Mirio winks, taking one of the cookies you brought as thanks. 

“B-besides, we th-thought you interviewed well.” Tamaki teases, straiging papers on your desk. 

“Ugh, Tamaki! Please I ruined that chair and your flooring.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, to be honest the embarrassment is what kept you away from their offer for so long. 

“It was no big deal.” Mirio winks, “Just bring your son to make up for it. Well we’ll leave you to unpacking. Let us know if you need anything.”

“Will do.” You beam at them as Tamaki goes down the secure elevator with Mirio in tow. After a few moments of unpacking the elevator dings. 

“Back already?”

“Delivery.” The man holds a vase filled with hydrangeas. Reluctantly you sign for the flowers and hold onto them. The card peaking out with no sender, only congratulations written on the card.  You didn’t need a signature to know who it was from. 

For a moment you stand there frozen, do you smash it against the floor? Nah that would be a mess, smash it in the trash can then? Holding the heavy thing over the plastic tub you lift your arms, about to let go only to hold the position until your arms burn.

Sighing you place them into the trash can and push it under your desk. You’d deal with that later.  

Another ding of the elevator, eyes going up to be met with dark eyes. Instantly you stand, face stone cold as you’re met with the last person you ever wanted to see. 

In all of her elegance and beauty Momo stands in the lobby across from you. The desk keeps some semblance of separation as you stare her down coldly. 

“Tamaiki and Mirio are out. Please leave.” 

“I’m not here to see them.” She says softly, removing her shades and sitting at a chair across from your desk. You stand there in your pencil skirt for a long time and think about the irony of the universe's timing, “I just want to talk, please.” 

A full four minutes go by. She still sits stick straight in the chair, looking at you before you sigh for the thousandth time in your life. Sitting across from her with pursed lips. 

“You don’t have to say anything, you don’t have to understand where I’m coming from and I do not expect you to forgive me.” You suck her teeth at that but she talks on, undisturbed, “Bakugou told me about what you said. I explained everything as best I could. When you came in that night, before you fell off the face of the Earth for Bakugou and myself, I was on the phone with Shouto. One airpod in so I could hear when you came back. Seeing my friend like that, lost and having forgotten everything made my chest ache. Made me think of how short life was and how much I was in love with Shouto. I’m sure Bakugou never told you but in the beginning neither of us wanted to have kids. We wanted to focus on our careers, well things changed. Bakuogu wanted more out of life than number one, he wanted to have a family and in the time he and I were apart we fell out of love.”

She looks away now, looks at the grain of the wooden desk top as if it were the most interesting thing in the world as she goes on. 

“I honestly thought I didn’t want to have children. So we both agreed to part ways. Then I met Shouto and funny enough Bakugou pushed me towards him. Because Katsuki saw that I wanted Shouto and was holding myself back even after we had been divorced for a few years. He bragged about how he was a good guy. I went for it and then I left him because apparently I do want kids, Bakugou just wasn’t the right one to have them with. Seeing Bakugou in that hospital room, seeing him battered like that, it made me realize that kids aren’t the end all be all for me. That having a life with Shouto is what I want and besides if he’s ever ready to be a dad we can always adopt.”

She stands up then adding to the end, “I just wanted you to know that and to clear the air. I loved Bakugou, yes, when we were married and I love him dearly now, but nothing more than a friend. That man adores you. The whole six years he was looking at me, he was searching for you.” 

You fight to keep your hands from gripping your shirt over your heart.  She puts her sunglasses back on and you still see the movie star tears fall down the perfect apple of her cheeks. She gives a smile as if nothing is wrong before she walks towards the elevator doors that open for her. Once the chrome doors close you double over. No tears this time but the sting of it all starts in your heart and reaches out to your fingers as you squeeze your eyes shut. 

When you finally open your eyes you see those damn flowers. Gently pulling them out of the trash can and putting them on the edge of your desk with a sigh.

A year later

Daiki runs in circles ahead of you as the two of you walk down the street as the sun paints the cityscape in shining golds.  

"Yay! I'm so excited to spend the weekend at daddy's!" Daiki shrieks, "It's still so cool I've got a pro hero daddy!" 

"Yes yes but remember your manners." You remind him and he continues letting out all of his extra energy. 

"Yes momma. I'll be nice to daddy! I love him!" Daiki hasn't stopped talking about weekends with Daddy since the two of you arranged this co parenting ordeal. Daiki was taking it well although every now and again you’d catch him asking Kirishima how to make two people fall in love again. 

You just didn’t want to get romantically involved with a hero again, heart unable to take the pain or the long nights of waiting and wondering.  

And yet here you were in that flowy dress with the hydrangeas blooming on the moody fabric. 

The door comes into view as Daiki launches himself with a mini explosion, banging on the door of the apartment the two of you once shared with a shout. 

"DADDY!" 

It isn’t long before the door opens to reveal Bakugou still in his uniform sans his grenades. Mask pushed up keeping his hair out of his eyes, cheeks covered in a bit of soot as his black hero uniform hugged his body like a second skin. His thirties were treating him kindly and if anything he was aging like a fine wine.

"There's my fire cracker!" He says with pride. Picking up his son and holding him close. Even pressing a kiss to his cheek. You smile softly, hiding the pain in your eyes realizing this is never going to get easier. Passing Daiki's backpack of clothes. Bakugou holds onto the strap, holding your gaze and you can tell he wants to say something. That there's a weight on the tip of his tongue. 

"Stay." It's gentle, all the gruffness in his voice snuffed out. Daiki, of course, has plenty of energy for it. 

"Sleep over! SLEEP OVER!" His little fists hit Bakugou's broad shoulders with delight.

"One night?" Vermillion eyes stare into yours deeply before a cocky smile spreads on his lips. 

"Besides, after all this time, I still remember how you like your coffee." 

EPILOGUE 

It’s early in the morning but late for Bakugou to be home. The stove reads 6am as birds chirp lazily outside, sunning their wings before they belt into song. Something stirs from down the hall and he clenches his jaw. He hadn’t meant to be too loud coming in but that safe door needed some oil on its hinges.

“Morning, didn’t mean to wake you.” He says softly wrapping his arm around his wife, smiling up at him, eyes struggling to stay open, “Go back to bed, I’ll be there soon.”

“Need to be up anyway.” A yawn, reaching the counter to get the medicine. Bakugou doesn’t say anything, just watches his wife with a soft smile on his features. 

In the meantime he grabs his black studded coffee cup, fills it up with ice and gets the sweet cream creamer from the fridge. He sets the coffee next to his wife  on the counter, looking at the belt of bruises from the injections. His strong beautiful wife was doing everything to ensure that their growing child was safe. His heart feels full as he stares at the strongest woman he knows.

Stares at you as the sun peaks in through the blinds in sleepy oranges and pinks. 

“Thanks sweetness.”  You hum as he leans over. Pressing a kiss to the span of your swollen stomach. 

“Feeling okay?” He asks, another kiss on your stomach, hands there for a moment and fighting back the choked feelings as his fingers are kicked away, just thankful he can be here now. You give a small nod and try to usher him to bed, knowing he had been working himself far too much. 

Slowly you look outside, the clouds candied cotton as you take the first sip of your coffee, putting the radio on low before you prepare meals for the busy day ahead. A soft, sad ballad begins to play as you sway slowly. Singing the lyrics softly to what you thought was yourself until a husky voice speaks up from behind you. 

"I used to hear this song….while I was away." He clears his throat, wrapping his arms around your middle, swaying you both now in time with the music, "Used to think it was sad. That I was trying to get a glimpse of something I didn't have or that I used to have. Now when I hear it. It means something else." 

He spins you around, taking his hand in yours as he slowly sweeps you around the kitchen as if it were an elegant dance floor. Circling around with what would normally be somber music but here, in the early morning hours. Under the pastels of the sun and the intense, loving gaze of his burning ember eyes it feels nostalgic, warm.

"Now when I look in her eyes. I get a glimpse of us." He puts his forehead to yours smiling softly, "A glimpse of us and our future. No longer focusing on the past. Focusing on you, me, our children, happy, healthy and growing. I see us."

Tears prick your eyes, the two of you have vowed to one another to always fight for the other. No more past relationships or time lost, just what the two of you had now. He presses the softest kiss to your lips, pouring his heart and soul into it, he wants you to know that it has been and always will be you that holds his jagged heart. 

"I love you, Sweetheart." He murmurs and you lean up on tiptoes to give him the same kiss back. That you will fight for yourself, for your kids, for him even if the odds are stacked against you, even in the shadow of doubt. 

"I love you too, Sweetness." 

Hoping I’ll find…a glimpse of us.

[tempobrucera]

Trick or Treat

Pairing: Vampire!Ethan x Human!Reader x Demon!Thomas Summary: There's nothing hotter, more dangerous or more heartwrenching than spending a night with a vampire and a demon. Word Count: 7.4k Warnings: Smut, it's a demon and a vampire with a human Other: Wanted to write some Halloween smut and there will be another silly story on Halloween itself. Maybe something inbetween but I'm not gonna promise that. 🦇👻🎃🦇

Add yourself to my taglist.  / Masterlist

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Every year their annual Halloween party is on the day of the closest full moon to Halloween. Last year it was during the Blood Moon, to Ethan's and Thomas' delight. This year it falls onto the Darkest Depths Moon in early November, to Thomas' and Ethan's delight. It can only fall on these two options, you figured out, and guessed that Ethan and Thomas would be delighted anyways. They are excited for Halloween and to be normal between all people around. Ethan's sharp vampire fangs a cool feature for any costume, not hiding them away, like he usually does. Thomas' ever changing eye colour a prop no one questions at a Halloween party. Finally he can let the colour change how his eyes want to, let them flicker when he's excited instead of surpress it, and not only play around with his human eye colour that changes with the weather and sometimes with his mood but not quite as they want to.

"Nice costume," Victoria says when you open the door for her and she sees you in your pink ensemble, pink jacket, pink pencil skirt with a slit, the black sunglasses with the pink shades and the plush dog you are carrying with you which you put into a pink and purple sweater, "Elle Woods."

You laugh: "Thank you, likewise, you look hot."

"Hmmm," she doesn't look too convinced. Which isn't like Vic, she's standing in front of you as a nun. A really sexy version of a nun, you have to admit, which makes her disappointment even more confusing. Her habitat dress is short, showing off her legs and her thighs, the top part out of black sheer, showing her bare boobs underneath, flowy bell sleeves and a white scapular collar - both also out of sheer. To top her outfit of, she has a veil on her head and a cross necklace around her neck, you are sure you have seen it on Thomas before. "I wanted Thomas to go as my little demon toy but he told me, he found something better when I was already getting dressed. What better is there than playing possessing a nun?"

The moment you open your mouth to tell her how much that sucks but that you will happily offer her your vampire boyfriend, Thomas is walking down the stairs. All words in your brain die the second you see him.

"Oh great, you could have told me sooner." Vic says when she sees him, "Now you two are matching. Two iconic blondes out of movies. Cher and Elle, Clueless and Legally Blonde. Thank you, Thomas, you asshole."

Your gaze lingers on his long legs. The white stockings, the really short yellow tartan skirt, his hairy thighs. The matching yellow tartan blazer, he went for nothing underneath. You can see how his eyes flicker with excitement when he looks at you and Vic and does a little twirl.

"You look great!" You assure him - he does, you swallow. Vic only groans next to you.

"You do," Vic has to admit as well, "If you wouldn't have left me hanging."

"Sorry!" He smiles at her shyly, pulls his skirt down a bit and changes the topic. "Who are we waiting for?"

Your group decided to meet up at Ethan's place, you staying over most of the time when he's home. Thomas securing himself Ethan's guest room because Ethan's maisonette is closer to the place the party takes place. Vic deciding to come over so you can go together and Damiano driving himself and his girlfriend directly to the party, without any stops.

"Only Ethan," you say. "I probably have to help him with his wings."

"I'll go," Thomas is already skipping up the first stairs. You can't help yourself to look at his legs again, skirt swinging. It doesn't take him long to come back down, ten minutes you talk with Vic, and he's there again. You can see that there's lipgloss on his lips now that wasn't there before, subtle eyeshadow and mascara on his lashes. "He still needs a few minutes and then we can goooooo."

"Let's play a little game until then," Vic looks at you, "Ethan, Damiano, Thomas - fuck, marry, kill?"

"What?" You look at her in turn, she smirks at the shock on your face.

You can feel how you're blushing, Thomas is blushing as well. He radiates heat even more than usually. A thing you got used to quickly after meeting him when you got together with Ethan. Kind of a shock, to first fall in love with a vampire and then being introduced to his demon friend, he's in a band with. You had an ordinary life before, nothing do with the supernatural - even though you were interested. Who couldn't be interested in something so special, not everyone gets to see. Thomas is always hot to the touch, always heating up a room when he's in it. You don't know, how many times you already cuddled up into his arms when you were cold. It's such a difference to how cold your boyfriend feels under your touch. But Thomas feels always cold himself - I think, I just radiate it everywhere, I don't keep it in. I'm always fucking cold. While Ethan is always feeling hot, whatever the weather - I keep all the heat in, I'm always warm.

"It's okay, you can say that you want to kill me, sink me to the bottom of the ocean, ram a dagger into my heart, a cruxifix." Thomas' eyes change from normal to a red blazing gaze to deep black and back to normal again, he smirks. "But I'm not that easy to kill."

Of course - you're a demon. And it instantly gets you heated too - it shouldn't, you think. Then Ethan gets down the stairs, you think you can avoid giving Vic an answer now. You don't want to kill any of them off, not even for Vic's mindfuck game question. Your breath gets stuck in your throat when you see him. He's in white wide-leg sheer trousers, a cropped white blazer with golden stars on it, like Thomas he went for nothing underneath. He has a black glittery smokey eye, that looks a little bit to good on him, like the dark red lipstick he put on and instead of a halo, he wears a flower crown out of white lilies and roses. When he smiles, you can see his pointed teeth. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see how Thomas longingly stares at his big, feathery, fluffy wings - they are black.

"You look so stunning," you have a closer look at his make up when he stands beside you. Carefully you leave a kiss on his cheek.

"And you can be my sidekick." Vic looks at him happily. "As Thomas, the idiot here, isn't matching anymore, but we would be the perfect fit."

"We're ready to go then."

"No," Vic says, "We aren't. Your partner in crime here still has to answer a question."

"I won't be offended, I promise." Thomas says, "I'm not gonna haunt you or something like that."

"What question are we talking about?" Ethan asks.

"Fuck, marry, kill. You, Damiano, Thomas."

"What an interesting question." Ethan looks at you. "I would like to know the answer as well."

"Marry Ethan."

"Obviously." Vic and Thomas say simultaneously, Ethan next to you laughs.

"Kill," you swallow, "Damiano."

You can feel, how Ethan looks at you. You can see, how Thomas' eyes flicker for a few seconds - then they turn completely white which is new, before you have to look away.

"That only leaves Thomas to fuck," Vic points out - you're sure, you are all aware, "Guess humans are too boring."

You wouldn't say that humans, like Vic and Damiano, are too boring but she has a point, you have to admit. After getting together with a vampire, Ethan being the gentlestest soul you have ever known, you wouldn't go back. There's so many stories he can tell, so much wisdom, so much fun, you wouldn't change it for the world, even when you're aware of the danger. What's a little danger for all the fun you can have? Maybe she's right, they are too boring. Thomas draws you in like a moth is drawn by the lights, you would have chosen Thomas anyways.

"We can leave then," Vic says and smirks at you and then at Thomas who nervously plays with the hem of his skirt, "Thanks for the interesting answer. Who would have known?"

Somehow you all didn't think about the fact, that Ethan's wings won't fit through the doors. It ends in a lot of giggling, Vic and you going out of the door first, grabbing one wing each carefully, and getting him through the door, while Thomas looks on. You know, you could have taken them off again, but where's the fun in that. On the way, people look at him, he hits some people with his wings and apologises profoundly to each of them. Going into the bar, Ethan, Vic and you repeat the same procedure as to get him out of the house.

You are already sweaty from dancing with Vic and Ethan when you get yourself a new drink later in the night, Ethan and Vic in the toilets to reapply Ethan's make up. Thomas went to look for Damiano when you arrived earlier, you have only seen him dancing with a girl and some guy laughing at his eyes during the evening. But sometimes, you can feel the heat creeping up on you but you can't see him anywhere. Like now, and then there's arms wrapping around your waist. Thomas' chin on your shoulder, his warmth is giving you the chills.

"You didn't have to say that just because Damiano wasn't there." His breath is hot against your ear. His body too close to yours, you shiver. It's too hot, to be cold but it shakes you to have him so close. Thomas doesn't step back when you turn around in his arms.

"That wasn't the reason, Thom."

"You sure? That wasn't a lie?"

Shuffling even closer, he puts one of his hands on your cheek. All his heat flowing through your body. Out of nowhere there's a quiet peng and Ethan stands next to you. Thomas startles a little and draws himself back, looking at Ethan apologetically.

"You don't have to stop just because of me." Ethan grins, puts one hand on your ass and pinches slightly.

Thomas looks at both of you unsure, his adam's apple bobbing. You bite your lip.

"Oh, I know this look." Ethan says, "That earlier wasn't a lie. I know."

And then, with a snap of his fingers, he's gone again, leaving you behind. Behind with a Thomas that looks at you nervously.

"I'll never get used to him doing this," he says.

Before there can be said anything else, the girl he danced with earlier turns up to get him. He leaves a light, hasty, sweet kiss on the corner of your mouth. Then he's gone and you're on your way back to Ethan again. You always find him, he makes it easy for you, you always find him when he wants to be found, your feet are just leading the way, when you want to turn the wrong direction they always stop and push you into the correct one. Another weird thing, you had to get used to. Magical but nonetheless, weird. Some clichés you had about vampires ruined during this time - No garlic? I'm Italian; No churches? I'm Italian; All lies. Sunlight just slightly hurts but with the right SPF everything is possible. You learned some new things as well, like this. It doesn't take long, he's sitting in a corner on a plush sofa.

"I thought, he isn't your type." Ethan says when you sit down next to him.

"He isn't." You draw circles and stars on his exposed stomach with your finger. "But have you looked at him?"

"Yes, babe. I see him every day." He smirks. "And he can be the goodest boy or a little shit, maybe we should find out …"

How that would translate into having him in your bed, you think.

Ethan's smirk gets even wider.

"Heeeey, get out of my head," you complain but laugh, "You intruder."

"Sorry. But I would really like to stay here for a bit longer, if you don't mind. They taste delicious today."

You let him. He's talking about your thoughts, you know. Ethan's species of vampires can read the minds of their loved ones, a feature only a vampire in love possesses, you learned this as well. They can feed on blood and thoughts. Ethan never takes advantage of it, usually he asks if he's allowed in, tries not to intrude or make it his advantage that he knows what you are thinking. But you also know, that sometimes, like today, his vampiristic traits want to take over because this is yet another thing you learned. The most vampire thing is for them to gather knowledge about the things surrounding them.

"We should try getting him there." He places a kiss to your temple.

Besides Ethan building up the heat in your core, with whispering dirty things into your ears, grazing your neck lightly with his fangs - leaving faint lipstick stains behind - or commenting on Thomas' long legs in that skirt, the night goes and ends with any further accidents. You almost think, that Thomas went home with the girl earlier but when Ethan and you're gathering your stuff, he's there to leave together with you.

For some reason, you get Ethan out of the door and into his home, the same way you got him out earlier in the day, instead of taking the wings off. Thomas watches when you take the wings off Ethan's shoulders. You can see the longingly stare again.

"I miss my wings," he says when he sees your questioning face. He wraps his arms around himself. "They were the fluffiest wings, with the softest feathers, and the most comforting. It was nice to wrap them around myself or to wrap them around others."

You look at Ethan, who nods and you go to Thomas to hug him sideways, leave a kiss in his hair: "I'm sure, you had the most beautiful wings in heaven, but I'm also sure, you're the hottest and cutest demon in hell."

Thomas blushes, before he excuses himself and says that he'll be back in a few minutes. You can hear how the wind is getting louder outside, how it whistles through the windows. You had a feeling it would rain all day. Sitting down next to Ethan, who still wears his flower crown, he almost automatically pulls you into his lap. He kisses you passionately, lets his hands wander over your hips, under your top to caress your back. You can hear how the rain starts dropping against the windows, before Thomas comes back into the living room.

"I should go to bed in my room," Thomas says when he sees you sitting on top of Ethan.

"Or you could join us in ours," Ethan says against your lips - but he isn't looking at you. "If you're interested."

You can't see Thomas' reaction behind you, but Ethan pulling you in for another kiss, wilder then the one before, pushing his tongue into your mouth, sneaking his hand under your skirt and Thomas breath hitching gets it away. When you get up from the couch, you can see how Thomas' eyes flicker with excitement and how he licks his lips. You leave a kiss on his lips. You're the first leaving for the bedroom - Ethan and Thomas staying behind to smoke a cigarette - Ethan slapping your butt lightly on the way out. You aren't complaining, it gives you time to undress yourself, except for your black and golden panties and to get comfortable on the bed - even a little bit too comfortable. You let your hands wander over your own body, down to your stomach and into your underwear, you close your eyes. You can feel that you're getting wet and when you lightly touch your clit, you let out a loud moan. And another moan when you can hear the door click, seconds later feel Ethan's hand in your hair.

"You playing with yourself?" Ethan whispers into your ear. At the same time, his other hand takes the same way, your own did before. Down your neck, a calloused thumb gliding over your nipple, further down over your stomach, he draws a circle around your navel before dipping his hand into your panties. Touching you only lightly, you try to buck up your hips, to get more of his touch. Instead of getting more he takes your hand and pulls it out of your panties. An unhumanly hot tongue around your fingers is the next thing, you can feel, it has you open your eyes. Ethan holds your wrist in a tight grip, while Thomas enthusiastically and sloppily sucks on your fingers. He moans around your fingers and his eyes turn white again. You have already seen it one time before today. First you thought, it's only another way his excitement shows and it is. But he's not only excited, he's aroused. It has you moan as well. With a loud plop he lets them go. Before you can pull them back, Ethan licks over your fingers as well, his tongue cold. You shiver.

Ethan gets his hands back into your hair and pulls you up on your knees. Slowly you take off Ethan's blazer, kissing over his toned muscles, his skin feeling cold to your touch. Just when you kiss his nipple, you can feel another hand in your hair, long fingers. Thomas pulls you into a filthy kiss - it's a lot of tongue, his tongue hotter than anything you have ever felt, pulling your hair as he pleases. You take off his blazer, his skin hot under your fingertips. Under your tongue, when you let it wander over his neck artery, when you lick and bite into his stomach. Next to you, Ethan takes off his trousers without making a big show out of it. Thomas puts hands on the waistband of his skirt to get it off as well, you look up to him, lips still on his warm stomach. When he sees your face, he stops himself, instead he only takes off his briefs and leaves the white stockings and the skirt on.

"Trick or Treat?" Ethan asks.

"What's the treat?" you want to know.

"A surprise."

"And the trick?" you ask.

"You'll have to find out," he looks at you and smiles.

"Trick!"

"Good girl!" It's coming from Thomas, not what you expected. You expected Ethan would be the trick as you can have him as a treat every day, but you apparently where mistaken.

You put a hand on his thigh, under his skirt, your head follows and you leave kisses all over his upper thigh. He radiates so much heat, you moan. But before you can put your lips around his dick, he pulls you back by your hair.

"No cara, I don't want you to burn yourself like that."

You swallow, when you look at him. If he thinks, he runs too hot to blow him, how hot is he going to feel other places, when he …

Ethan getting behind you on the bed, snaps you out of your thoughts. He's sitting against the headboard, he looks beautiful, his long black hair with the white flowers - otherwise naked - pulling you with him between his legs. His skin touches yours, his cold skin against yours that feels more and more heated thanks to Thomas. It has you whimpering, going from one opposite to the other. Getting down on the bed, Thomas' skirt slips a little bit and he bats his lashes at you when he readjusts it.

"Spread your legs for him," Ethan whispers and bites into your earlobe, almost nibbles on it. You do spread your legs, Thomas coming closer, skirt slightly swinging before he is between your legs, puts his warm hands on your waist and his hot lips on your shoulder, lipgloss sticks to your skin. "Can I stay in your head?"

Yes, he can stay. You want him there, you trust him. It is never an unpleasant feeling, just feeling his presence on another level. You know, he wants to because this is new, because Thomas is there. You wonder if this would work with him as well, with a demon. Ethan laughs against your ear while Thomas sucks on your neck until he left a hickey and looks at you: "I can't read your mind."

"Sorry," you pull him up to kiss him, "I was just wondering, if this would work with you too, Ethan getting into your thoughts?"

"I probably would have to leave him in," he tilts his head, "I don't think he can otherwise do it or … not sure if that would work at all."

Thomas is kissing down your neck again, between your boobs, then your thighs, leaving more sticky lipgloss - the right one first, then the left one. You are writhing in Ethan's arms. Thomas kisses the fabric of your panties, licks over the fabric and then lightly sucks at your clit through the fabric. Slowly, so slowly, he's taking your underwear off, lets it glide off your legs. Then he puts his lips on your clit again, drawing circles, before moving down and licking over your entrance, licking into your pussy. Pushing his tongue in and out, still so slowly. Sloppy, sticky, hot - you're sure the lipgloss is completely off his lips now.

"How does that feel?" Ethan still asks even though, he knows. He can see all your thoughts, he knows how it feels for you what Thomas is doing with you.

You grab for Ethan's arm, clawing at it - pressing your nails into his skin. The heat is travelling through all of your body, your toes curling in pleasure: "Hot, good, so good. God, god fuck, it feels so hot."

You enjoy it, but it's so much, you yank at his hair to get him off. It's too much, too hot. You feel like burning. From the outside and the inside.

"Sorry," Thomas looks up at you - your hand still in his hair, "I'm trying not to overheat."

One second ago, you thought how it is too hot but you want him to be what he is, to not restrict himself. To show his demonic self. You can hear how Ethan says something to him but you can't register what is being said. Thomas is even getting a bit warmer on top of you, pressing his warm lips to your throat again. Ethan sneaks his arm around you, between Thomas' and your body. Thomas whimpers, Ethan's cold hand also touching his skin before he lets his fingers dance over your skin. He pushes one of his cold fingers into you, cooling you down, it's soothing, and then a second one. Until Thomas adds one of his slim nimble, and above all hot, fingers. Hotter than before. You wish, he would put his tongue somewhere on you again. Ethan pulls Thomas by his hair to your nipple - he puts his mouth on you. He licks over your nipple and then switches to the other one. You whine when Ethan pinches the one Thomas isn't grazing his teeth over, cold slowly taking over again, while Thomas sucks on your other one.

He lets go of your nipple, and sits up. Thomas lifts his skirt playfully. Shows you a bit of skin, shows his hairy thighs, lets it fall down again. Plays with his stockings, then lifts his skirt completely. He's a tease. He teases you even more when he gets between your legs again, pushing his dick between your folds, before he pushes in to you. Thousand little flames are lighting up everywhere in your body. He teases more, pulling back and stopping until you push against him. He still pulls back, grinning at you, before he pushes into you again, harder this time. But he remains playful all the way. Playful and sweet but teasing and passionate. You wonder if it has to do with him being an angel before becoming a demon. There's no time to think about it further, Thomas pushes your legs upwards against your upper body, Ethan ghosting his lips along your neck, probably still leaving light lipstick marks on your skin. It's so hot and he gets so deep, you almost scream and you shake in Ethan's arm. You can't tell if you just came or not. Thomas stops, making sure you are okay, before building up a rhythm. It reminds you of the first time with Ethan, when he played a mindtrick on you - you wanted to try it, but you don't do it often now, passionate but too draining for both of you.

Calm is still washing over you. First you thought Thomas' ways of being calming to be out of place, for a demon of all creatures, but Thomas disagreed with you. Demons have to be calming, or at least know how to be calming because it's easier to possess people, he explained. He chuckled when you pointed out his chaotic tendecies. Everyone has their flaws, he said, even a fallen angel. Sometimes you see how he possesses Vic just for fun and for the chaos that it leads to, Vic an unwilling participant for the most part, always complaining to you it feels like he's trashing her insides but that it's wildly satisfying and mostly she laughs about it with him together when the chaos is over. Otherwise you never asked how possession works or how it looks like or what he's doing as a demon - you trust him nonetheless.

"Are you sure, you should be this trusting," Ethan whispers into your ear, so that Thomas can't hear him, "He's a demon after all?"

Ethan drags his teeth and especially his fangs over the skin on your neck and then over the sensitive skin on your neck. You trust him as well, even though he's a vampire. He wouldn't bite you, drain you, sometimes he just pierces your skin softly with his sharp fangs to get a little taste of blood but never more. Thomas alters his rhythm slightly and gets your full attention back in a heartbeat. You moan, and then you moan into Thomas' mouth, one hand buried in his hair and the other one pulling at Ethan's hair behind you, knocking off the flower crown that was still on his head.

"You should ride him. Thomas deserves a Halloween treat as well, right?"

You turn around together, to get on top of him. Thomas moans, holding you, both of you moving your hips in the same rhythm. The little flames are still dancing - the light of the lamp on the bedside table flickers. Outside is lightning, thunder not too far behind. Thomas is sweaty, he's so unbelievable sweaty under you, his hair a mess, his bangs clinging to his forehead. Sweat on his throat that you lick away, your tongue tingling.

Interested you see how there's black reddish smoke coming from between Thomas' lips but he draws it back before you can get closer. He looks at Ethan.

"I'm not the one you have to ask. If you both want to."

He looks at you again: "Can I?"

"What?" You only have a vague idea.

"Get in you."

You thrust your hips downwards. He chuckles: "Not that kind of in."

He looks at you smiling, tiny bits of smoke still swirling in the air, and you realise that he means possessing you. You nod, you want this, you want to know how it feels. Thomas puts his hand on the back of your neck and then kisses you open-mouthed, the smoke still swirling between you, then leaving Thomas' body to find it's way into yours. If anything else before felt like burning and a thousand little fires, this feels like forest fire settling low in your stomach. On it's way Thomas touches something in you that you can't quite place.

You can feel how Thomas' skin gets colder, his eye colour turning into a pleasant grey-ish green, flickering only lightly. In the same moment, your body heat spikes up. You can feel how your eyes go through the motions like Thomas' before. They flicker because of Thomas' and your own excitement, you go to a dark place when they turn into black orbs, you feel Thomas' passion and wild rage taking over your body when they turn red and they stop at white, you both being incredibly aroused.

This time you can feel your orgasm build up, it's slow. Never did it feel this slow before. Ever. It builds up and up and up, but you don't release. You can't. You want to, but you can't.

"You can let go, it's gonna feel good for both of us."

It sends sparks through your body, Ethan got up and behind you, slowly grazing his fangs over your throat. Thomas pulls you down into a sloppy kiss, draws his demon back, the smoke between you, when you cum and cum and cum. It doesn't stop, it holds on for so long, you almost get dizzy, your head spinning. You crash down over him, he leaves gentle kisses in your hair and on your face while you still shake and whine. And then you can feel how he shakes as well, how he cums and moans into your mouth, his eyes white. The light turns off completely, it turns on again when he holds you in his arm, his breath slowly evening out.

"Vic said this hurts?" you mumble against his lips. You are curious, because it didn't. It didn't hurt, a little unusual. But otherwise there was just blinding pleasure and comfort.

"Yes," he mumbles back, "but you gave yourself willingly and it was for pleasure, not for chaos. She's always so shocked when I do it."

You stay like this, twirling strands of his hair between your fingers, you both breathing together and Ethan behind you drawing a pattern on your back.

"Ethan deserves a treat as well, don't you think?" He chuckles, it's cute. "And he's your treat as well."

You're tired and so calm in Thomas' arms but deep down in your soul you know, that you want to pleasure Ethan as well. And then it hits you, that Thomas touched your soul when he was possessing you. Before them, you never thought about the fact that your human flesh might house something else than organs. But then Ethan came around, a vampire with a soul, who explained that there are such and such, some with and some without - it depends on how they were created. And Thomas, a demon, that shouldn't have a soul but the longer you thought about it, and about your own, you think there's still something like a store somewhere in him. Ethan looks at you for a second, before looking at Thomas, showing him his fangs. Even Thomas seems to be intimidated by them, he recoils.

"I didn't take anything, I swear!"

"You better not."

It reminds you, how dangerous this is. You're between a demon that could do god knows what with your soul and body, burning through your skin, and a vampire that could drain all your blood from you. They wouldn't, you know - you trust them. But the possibility still remains, you shiver. You feel hot all over again. Ethan gives him another look before you get off Thomas with a heavy heart to give Ethan your undivided attention. Getting up, you can see how Thomas' cum is black. Such a stark contrast to Ethan's translucent one you are so used to.

"I thought, you told me, it's normal," Ethan says.

"It is," Thomas rolls his eyes, "Usually it is, I'm not having sex as a demon that often. It's too hard to control myself and only then it happens."

For a second or two, you ask yourself how that would look like, Thomas not controlling himself. In your bed. You bite your lips, Ethan growls at him and Thomas' eyes turn the darkest black you've ever seen, then a blazing shade of red before going back to normal. You kiss Thomas again, before Ethan pulls you back and kisses you possessively, leaving lipstick behind. He lays you down on the bed again, your head hitting the mattress - Thomas pulls your head onto his thigh, you leave a kiss on his skin and play with the hem of his skirt.

Ethan spreads your legs, he kisses you, cooling you completely down when he thrusts into you. He finds a rhythm quicker than Thomas, being used to you, to your needs, probably still being in your head, knowing exactly what you want. His thumb slowly circling your clit - Thomas slowly carding his fingers through your hair. Biting your tongue, you can taste the metallic taste of blood. Ethan kisses you, his lipstick already smudged, lets your tongues swirls together, moans when he gets blood on his tongue.

Ethan has more strength than Thomas and he shows it off, fucking you into the mattress. He's not letting you cum. He makes it look like, it's your choice but all three of you know that it's just show. It's his decision, not really yours anymore but one time he doesn't stop you.

"When you cum, Thomas can use the paddle on you." It gets you so excited, you almost don't stop yourself. "Or you can use it on him, whatever is worse."

In the end, you do control yourself, when you see Thomas looking intimidated, his eyes going wide. But you also see interest flashing in his eyes. Even more interest and fascination reflects on his face when Ethan bites into your throat, exactly where Thomas left a hickey earlier, he's still fucking you, and draws blood from you. Cold lips on your throat, your eyes are rolling back, Thomas licking his lips. Ethan cums before you, still sucking on your throat but it doesn't take you long to follow.

All three of you are a cuddle pile, exhausted. There's Thomas' sticky lipgloss everywhere, Ethan's lipstick - smudged, stains on your skin, dark eyeshadow - wiped away, Thomas' mascara - also smudged. You know, that you don't look any better, you're happy.

"You really didn't take anything?" Ethan wants to know again, he wants reassurance for something. He puts his hands around Thomas' throat, you putting your hands on his forearm, and he loosens his grip.

"I wouldn't, I would never! You know that!"

Ethan gets his hands off then, looking at him apologetically and whispering a silent sorry.

"What are you taking?" You ask, you put your arm around his hips, your other one around Ethan's. You know a lot about vampire lore and Ethan's history but you still don't know that much about him, you would like to know more.

"The souls of people who made a pact with Satan. And … Some here and there, consensually, of course. I would never take some for myself when my opposite doesn't want to give. And I would never only take a part of it," he looks at Ethan angrily. It seems like he was accused of a greater crime than just taking a soul.

"Why?"

Thomas sighs, and Ethan sighs as well.

"Some demons only take parts of human souls, it fucks them up completely, it's worse than when you just take them whole, it makes most humans go insane and …," he swallows, "Some of them just have fun feasting on the best chunks. I wouldn't. I only touched because it looked so pretty and warm, I'm sorry."

"I know, I'm sorry too, I'm just protective." He presses a kiss to Thomas' sweaty forehead - leaving a smudged lipstick stain there as well, to his sweaty bangs and you do the same.

"What happened to your wings?" Your own curiosity is taking over now, Ethan caresses your shoulders and Thomas takes your hand for a short moment.

He rolls out of bed, still dressed in the yellow skirt, the white stockings slipped down. Ethan is behind you, holding you securily in his arms. Your breath catches in your throat and you can hear the little oh Ethan breathes into your ear.

Thomas' wings are a dirty grey, some dirt sticking to them, a tiny bit of blood. You can see that he stopped taking care of them a long time ago, but for the most part, you see that his wings are clipped. It breaks a piece of your heart to see it, and this is new, you can feel something break in Ethan too. Snap - just like that. It's a weird moment to know something like this, but in this moment you know that you two belong together. And still Thomas' wings are one of the most beatiful things you have ever seen.

"Could I touch them?" You don't want to be rude but the feathers are drawing you in like a magnet.

"They are dirty," he blushes.

"We can wash them," you offer.

"We all have to shower anyways," Ethan says, "You can go, I'll do the bed first."

You get him under the shower and Thomas shudders and shakes his wings at you when the water is still too cold for him, hits his wings and then your face, you laugh. Carefully you wash them with a soft sponge you found hidden deep in Ethan's bathroom cabinets.

"Why did you become a demon?" There's still the fear to overstep but he seems open for the conversation.

"You know why Ethan turned? Same reason, but I did it out of my own will."

Love. That was the reason.

Ethan was a normal person at the beginning of the 1800's. He opened one of the first bookshops in Italy. You suspect that his old love for books as a human only amplified the love for knowledge a vampire has even more in his undead life. He was in love with a girl who wasn't allowed to see him, because her father thought she could have something better than him. So they met during dark nights, having dinner together in fields. Until one night, he didn't make it home. He died that night on the way home. He fell, his oil lamp falling with him, catching his feet and the next day only his corpse could be found. The girl felt deep guilt and blamed herself, like Ethan having a knack for the occult, she searched the hidden section in his bookstore until she found something interesting. She had a cat jump over his corpse to become a vampire. It looked like it didn't work but three nights later, he was standing in front of her, in one piece, no burn mark except one on his body, with fangs and an unquenchable thirst for blood. You asked how he felt with it but he reassured you, that it was absolutely fine; he can't remember the way home, or dying, there's no trauma. Just a pair of fangs - could have been worse.

"Can I ask what happened? Who did this to you?"

"I played dice with Satan to safe the soul of a loved one. I … I lost. So I gambled my own soul, to have another chance at it. I won, she released the soul of my loved one but kept mine instead. I should have read the fine print on which conditions she would have play me again, I was never suppossed to get both back. But stupid trusting me having faith, went for a another game, I already lost my soul and already knew I would be cast out of heaven. She offered me that she'll let me go, live a soulless life with my loved one, but leave us and any offspring past that alone, forever. I went for it, it went okay, I was finally lucky until I wasn't and I lost. In return she kept me in hell for fifthy years and had the pleasure to turn a fallen angel into a demon unwillingly." He looks at you, and you look back, carefully washing away at his wings. "She cheated on me, she played with a loaded dice."

"Was it -, was it for another angel?"

"No, she was human, like you or Vic. She lived a long and fulfilled live, had kids who had kids who had kids who had kids who had kids and so on over the years. She died a long time ago, but I still visit the family from time to time. I'm still always invited for birthdays." He smiles at you sadly. "I … I would do it again, you know. I would always do it again, if it means she had a peaceful happy life in the end, I would do it."

"I'm sorry." You don't know what else to say. You remember some yellowed, old looking photographs in Thomas' wallet, you can have a guess now that this is her family and somehow his as well.

"It's not too bad, it could be worse," he smiles, "I love the chaos I can cause, I could have never in heaven, even when I would have liked too and I would have liked to, believe me, and some things are more of a perk than a burden. It's okay, trust me."

Ethan joins you in the bathroom as well, he washes his face first, before having a look into the shower.

"You okay in here?"

"Yes," you smile at him, "Could you just hold that wing, he always moves it when I touch there, I just can't clean that one spot."

Ethan does you the favour, smiling at Thomas, who in turn isn't having it at all. His wing is flapping again and he splashes Ethan with water that drops out of the feathers.

"Lets try the other way around," you say and hold Thomas' wing again, "Can you clean it?"

The sponge hits Ethan' face - Thomas giggles.

Ethan somehow does manage and you finally get out of the shower. All clean, getting wrapped into warm and fluffy towels.

"Sorry that these are still grey."

"Don't worry, they won't get any better, they are supposed to be a shiny silver but that's long gone."

"It's still a lovely colour." You kiss the tip of his nose.

Ethan kisses your cheek: "We can have some tea in bed and I stole some cake from the party."

You raise his eyebrows at him, sounds more like a Thomas' thing to do.

"I'm full of surprises! It's shaped like little bats, how could I not?" He laughs and you kiss him lovingly. Thomas looks at the floor, you kiss him as well. Not because you feel sorry for him, but because you want to. Ethan smiles at you both.

You all have tea together in bed, the cake Ethan nicked from the party on a plate between you. You are talking more about Ethan's earlier life, but also about Thomas' earlier life - your head rests on Ethan's shoulder. Thomas tells you something about another stint in hell because he refused to get a soul from someone who didn't want to let it go, but that after this he met Vic. And how he mostly prefers being a chaotic, independent demon over being an angel bound to heaven. It eases you a little bit.

When all the cake is eaten and the teacups are empty, Thomas wants to leave and go to his own bed. Ethan and you look at each other, it's not an option. You pull him back into bed and Thomas smiles shyly at both at you but doesn't complain.

Thomas was right, he has the fluffiest wings, it's the most comforting experience, there's still a thunderstorm outside: You fall asleep with Thomas' wings wrapped around Ethan and your own body.

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END.

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Trivia (aka useless facts about this, with me, a section no one ever asked for):

Elle Woods - Legally BlondeCher Horowitz - Clueless Lilies and roses - Lilies represent the Holy Spirit and stand for the link to the afterlife. Roses "attract angels of love" and they strengthen and cultivate new relationships. Bookstores in Italy - The first bookstore in Italy was opened in 1810 in Genoa Legend about Pope Sylvester II - The legend says he played dice with the devil to become pope

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Taglist: @writingmaneskin, @oro-e-diamanti, @iamtashaquinn, @teenyweenynightghost, @findaqueenwithoutaking, @foreveryking-thatdied, @findoutwhoyougonnacall, @maneskinbrainrot, @little-moonbeam-666, @ethaneskin, @maneskin-dimensione, @l0standn0tf0und, @butkutee, @gr8rainbowpunk, @maneslut, @maneskintifoso, @weareoddlydrawn, @hiraetheral, @imjustanerdwholikestoread, @cuzimitaliano, @hopelessromantic727, @dating-villain, @maneskinsimp, @lauraosheaoh, @till-you-scream-and-cry, @wonderlandishell, @h1ppieth1ngs, @paralianeyes, @roisinmillar, @livvyysstuff, @que--sera--sera

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

bb / gg, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook is the lead singer in a rock band and failed his Biology class last semester, so he has to take remedial classes over the summer. You're the Biology TA, double major in Psychology and Biology, watching him freak out over his make-up exam because he had overslept. Both of you are surrounded by rumors. Does the title stand for bad boy / good girl or bad bitch / good guy? Who knows.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; not the healthiest dynamic tbh; slight angst due to perceived unrequited love; smut (fem reader, D/s dynamics, begging, scratching / marking, choking, handjob (he is still wearing underwear), multiple orgasms, cowgirl, hair pulling, edging / orgasm denial, cock ring usage, m-masturbation, cum-eating); non-idol!BTS – rock singer, sub!Jungkook x studious, dom!reader

yes, it's SOWOOZOO JK, both the first yellow tropical look and the shredded black shirt look; for those who wanted him to be dom!JK, there is a moment when he is but not in the way you think because that's how I operate

--

Jeon Jungkook was a bad boy.

Wore too much black, dyed his hair too much, had tattoos, always had girls hanging around him. Sang in a rock band on the weekends, played electric guitar, played the game of how-many-numbers-can-I-get tonight? Never gave a girl his leather jacket to wear but was happy to buy her a drink and flirt with her until she got hot with arousal.

You were a good girl.

Always wore a blazer. Crisp white dress shirt and pleated skirt underneath, usually in a dark color. Sensible heels, but always heels. Did too many units a semester because you were double majoring in psychology and biology. Always arrived to class early, always turned in your assignments on time, always turned in your tests early and aced that shit. Took physics with calculus even though you didn’t have to because it was the harder one and you wanted a challenge.

-

Against the wall, shoving a fist into the neck, lips to lips, teeth snapping, hand travelling down, whimpering pleas and harsh growls, keep crying, I like it, ecstasy and pain, nails to skin. Tearing clothes off, biting, marking, I own you, and then, yes, you do, mouth and tongue, aching pleasure, cocked eyebrow, mocking the pathetic whines and cries, stopping right before the end, no, please, I’ve been good, and, you take what you get, hand fitting onto the neck, squeezing the sides, eyes rolling back, skin to skin, bruising slaps that would be seen tomorrow in the mirror, traced with shaking fingers and pants of an open mouth, moaning at the memory of sky-high pleasure while lightheaded and thoughtless, desperate to do it again.

-

There was a rumor.

Everyone liked Jeon Jungkook. He had two smiles, an endearing one and a teasing one. Both encapsulated the kind of person he was, honest and playful. He always sang with conviction, he rapped with savagery, and his lyrics were always from the heart. He always hung out with his bandmates after their performances at bars and interacted with those that came up to him. No one ever said Jungkook was mean or rude in any way.

And yet.

There was a rumor.

A rumor that Jeon Jungkook was taken.

He was the kind of guy that always made sure a drunk girl got home safe even though he didn’t know them. Paid for their taxi and everything. He focused a lot on his music and writing lyrics he thought would connect with others while taking into account his band members. He always told the truth if a girl confessed to him, saying he wasn’t looking right now, that he was very sorry if she thought otherwise, that there was someone he was already interested in.

-

“Oi.”

You slammed a hand onto the tabletop and Jeon Jungkook jumped, the shredded black shirt he was wearing falling down his shoulder, revealing his ink black tattoos on his tan skin. He was wearing a black tank top underneath.

“What’s with you? You missed the exam for your remedial class and you’ve spent the past ten minutes spacing out at your make-up exam,” you barked, pointing to his empty exam sheet. “You haven’t even filled out you name.”

Jungkook swallowed hard. “S… Sorry.”

You frowned. Why was he apologizing to you? Honestly, why did you sign up for this summer TA position again? Oh, right, money and credits. Hmph. It was really just an excuse for the professor to slack off while you did the tedious things like grading and watching over idiots that skipped class. Sorry, overslept. Hung over, probably, since this was the Jeon Jungkook. Rockstar, hottie, famous in his own way.

Whatever.

He could be Jesus Christ and you would still be scolding him for missing his remedial Biology exam.

“Fill out your name so at least I can fail you properly.”

Not that it mattered, since you knew who he was. He didn’t know you knew who he was, and you had zero incentive to inform him that you were indeed aware of the existence of black-haired, tattooed, chiseled-jaw, sparkly-eyed Jeon Jungkook, all due to the constant snide remarks that followed you in your wake.

You wouldn’t be such a bitch if a guy like Jeon Jungkook put you in your place.

Who the fuck was Jeon Jungkook?

This guy, this weirdo about to fail his fucking Biology exam in front of your face.

Impatiently, you rolled up the sleeves of your gray blazer and grabbed a chair, dragging it up to the table. You snapped the chair down and sat in it, smoothing your skirt. You liked to be neat. Even though university didn’t have a uniform, you liked to keep some sort of uniform for yourself. There was a sense of security in knowing you didn’t have to select an outfit every morning. Today, white dress shirt, gray blazer, pleated black skirt that hit slightly higher than mid-thigh. Every other outfit was some variation of this and, in the winter, you wore thick stockings.

You clicked your heels together under the table sharply.

He flinched at the sound.

Jungkook wasn’t looking at you. He was mumbling at his paper.

“I… I think I studied the wrong chapters…”

You clicked your tongue. Jeez.

His hand was shaking so bad that his pen was practically vibrating. You leaned over the table, grabbing his fist to still it.

“Stop.”

Your bare knees hit his bare knees, mostly because he was wearing black jeans with giant holes in them. Jungkook froze, head snapping up, silver earrings jangling, black hair flying, undercut visible for a second.

“You want to pass this class or what?”

He nodded quickly in response.

“Good. I want to get out of here. Keep your mouth shut. Answer to the first question is A.”

His eyes widened.

“Are you… helping me cheat?” he whispered, terrified.

You cocked your head, letting go of his hand. “You said you studied the wrong chapters. I’m not spending forty-five minutes of my life to watch you panic and then ten minutes more failing you,” you replied lowly, dangerous edge to your voice.

“I… couldn’t… I mean…”

You shoved his knees open with yours, narrowing your eyes as he yelped, pleading look in those brown doe eyes. You pressed your knees on the inside of his thighs, keeping them open.

“Answer to the second question is C.”

When Jungkook didn’t move, you reached over and cupped his chin. Felt his racing heartbeat pounding through his veins, coursing through your fingertips. Stared deep into those eyes, lowering the octave of your voice, keeping his thighs spread for you under the table.

“Listen to me,” you murmured softly. “Okay, Jungkook?”

“O… Okay…”

And he did.

-

There was a rumor.

Nobody liked you. Maybe it was because of your high scores ruining the class test average. Maybe it was the dismissive way you spoke to people, almost demeaning. Most likely it was a combination of the two. Students talked behind your back all the time, spreading rumors. Friends? What friends? You had an average of twenty class credits a semester. You didn’t have time to make friends. And besides, why try to make friends when clearly nobody wanted to be your friend?

And yet.

There was a rumor.

You ignored such things. You didn’t need such distractions.

-

“It would be too suspicious if you got full marks. This score is high enough.”

“O… Okay…”

“Get on the table.”

Jungkook scrambled on the wooden tabletop as you pushed his exam aside. You were still sitting in your chair. Your head tilted, eyebrow lifting at his speedy response to your rather suspicious request.

“You listened.”

He blinked at you. “Uh… yeah?”

Silence.

“Why?” you finally said.

Jungkook gulped. “Be… because you asked,” he mumbled, knees on the table, hands clutching his knees.

“You can just walk out and report me.”

He shook his head quickly, black hair flying everywhere. “I don’t want to.”

Your other eyebrow raised. He chewed on his lip, a flash of pink tongue in his movement.

“Tell me what you want. I’ll do it.”

Well.

You decided to test his conviction.

“Edge of the table. Spread your legs for me.”

Instantly, obediently, Jeon Jungkook surprised you by doing it, putting each leg on either side of you, chunky black sneakers hanging down. Shredded black shirt open, hands behind his ass, towering over you, and yet his eyes were watching you, waiting for more, begging for instruction.

“Hm.”

You raised your chin, seeing his impressively muscular thighs and body displayed for you to take. He was so close you could smell his clean, dreamy scent, like a meadow in summer dusk, surrounded by peeking stars and blinking fireflies. Interesting.

But you didn’t need the distraction.

“That’s it. You can go now,” you said dismissively, about to push your chair back.

His legs closed in, pressing firmly into your upper arms. Your eyes flickered up to him.

Jungkook shook his head very slowly.

“Do what you want.”

You saw his chest rise and fall, his silvery voice deepening, pupils expanding.

“I know you want to do something to me.”

His erection was bulging against the zipper of his black jeans. Your eyes went back to his face. He shivered at your sharp stare. All of this was happening in an otherwise empty lecture hall, with you and Jungkook at the very bottom.

Just you and him.

You placed your hands on his thighs. He jumped a little, but scooted closer to you. You slid your hands up. You undid the button of his jeans, scrutinizing those brown eyes. He raised his hips to help you as you pulled the zipper down.

“You don’t know me,” you finally said, no inflection in your voice.

He didn’t look away. “I don’t care.”

“Hmm.” You smirked. “Bad boy, aren’t you?”

Jungkook shook his head slightly, but didn’t break eye contact as you pulled his pants to his knees and reached for his black boxer briefs. “No. I’m a good guy. I want to give you what you want.” You hooked your fingers over the waistband and nicked his skin with your nails, making him gasp, the pleasure evident in his tone. He did not try to hide it from you. “I want to be good for you.”

“Why is that?”

He hung his head a little.

“Something about… how you make me feel…” he muttered. His gaze finally faltered. You reached up and righted his chin, forcing him to look at you. Saw that Jungkook had a mole under his mouth, perfectly in the center. He had a nice shape to his pink lips. You tapped his cheek, nudging him to elaborate. “You… You’re so pretty… and smart… Everyone looks up to you because you have such good grades…”

You doubted that.

Jungkook probably had no idea that most of the school hated your guts.

You didn’t have classes with Jungkook, but you were sure he knew your name because your name was posted on the Dean’s List of the highest-ranking students of the university every semester. Also, you weren’t hard to miss. Every student moved out of your way when you walked through the halls, whispering behind their hands.

Jungkook brought you back to the present.

“I feel,” he whispered, voice trembling, gaze locking with yours. “I feel like I want to be on my knees for you.”

His skin was warm under your nails.

“Like this is where I belong, in your hands.”

You stood up.

Jungkook started, turning into a tight squeak as you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him down.

“Lift up your shirt with both hands.”

He did was he was told, revealing his toned abs and the lower half of his pecs, biting his lip, clutching onto his tank top, ears turning red as he craned his head to look down at you. You didn’t give him any satisfying response. His tan skin seemed to glow under the overhead lights. You studied his face.

Reached up and began to rub his erection through his underwear.

“A… ah…”

“Gonna make you cum like this.”

He shook his head quickly. “P… Please, no…”

You felt him swell and twitch under your hand. He was pretty big. Thick. Pretty boy with a pretty dick, probably. You rubbed the head with your palm, feeling his pre-cum leaking through the thin fabric. He wasn’t kidding when he said you made him feel some kind of way.

“Why not? Make you cum in your underwear and then you have to go all the way home covered in it. All dirty, just for me.”

His handsome face twisted with sinful pleasure at your suggestion, whimpers in his throat. His cock jerked with need, wanting it.

“O… Okay. Whatever you want.”

So obedient.

“So obedient, Jungkook,” you purred, rubbing faster.

He nodded. “For you. Only for you. Just for you.”

Was it just saying those things because he thought that was what you wanted to hear? Or was that how he actually felt? Surely not the latter, considering he didn’t really know you. You leaned over him, placing your free elbow on the table to stabilize yourself. You hadn’t even kissed him.

“You’re so hard for me,” your drawled, lowering your head, letting your warm breath float down onto his skin. “You want to cum for me, don’t you?”

“Y… yes, please…”

“You want to be my toy?”

You pressed your lips to his bellybutton, feeling the smoothness of his skin, tasting it. He moaned at your kiss, your swift tongue flickering out to that delicious skin, whining when your teeth nipped at the softness. Fuck, he tasted so good that you wanted to mark him. Looked so fucking good that you wanted to mess him up, mar him with temporary imperfections on the perfection that was Jeon Jungkook.

“Yes…”

With breathless, lustful conviction.

You licked up his abs, increasing the intensity and speed of rubbing the engorged head of his cock, the pre-cum already soaked through and creating a slippery surface, turning Jungkook’s pitched whines to deep moans, a melody that filled up the entire lecture hall until was the only thing you could hear, Jungkook’s moans as you bit his skin, his moans as you sucked on his skin, moans as you kissed the hard muscle, cries for more at you left marks, pleading for you, sweet and beautiful, clutching his shirt so tight that his knuckles were white, the black tattoos of his right hand standing out, his cock throbbing in your hand, his hips rising to hump your palm, your name on his lips, over and over and over.

“Gonna… gonna cum…” he panted, sniffing slightly, cheeks flushing pink. “Gonna cum like how you want me to, all over my underwear…”

Your fingertips touched his side, seeing him stiffen and then shudder at your gentle caress.

“Do it,” you murmured. “Show me how good you are at listening, Jungkook.”

He bit his lower lip, jaw clenching, squeezing his eyes shut, tipping his head back into the tabletop, whining your name in his chest, your palm working him, slick and hot and hard, pulsating under your roughness. With a sharp moan, his lower lip popped out of his teeth, dark red and swollen, small mole quivering.

“F-Fuck…!”

You felt it and heard it, the unmistakable jolt and squelch as his orgasm splattered inside his boxer briefs, drenching the fabric, drenching your hand, his embarrassed whines as he realized what he had done but still humping your hand, forcing out every last twitch of dribbling cum, causing you to smear it everywhere, coating the sensitive head and adding to the pleasure, his cheeks flushed red, eyes squeezed shut to savor the pleasure and avoid looking at you.

“Shh…”

You crawled onto the table, still holding his cock through his soiled underwear, squeezing it, free hand slipping under his head and lifting him, his eyes weakly opening, scared and anxious, but all you did was lean down and kiss him, pressing your lips to that pure softness, exhaling his name into his mouth, his scent staining your hand, his cologne filling your nose, your whisper in his throat.

“Time for you to go home.”

-

Jungkook thought you would tell everyone.

You did no such thing.

Instead, you ignored him.

He would see you three times a week and, three times a week, you arrived with the professor and left with the professor. Jungkook tried much harder to attend classes, but you seemed not to care either way. He would come to the front and collect his assignment and find that you had marked it up exactly like everyone else, red marks all over his incorrect answers. You didn’t even look in his direction.

The next exam was coming up quickly.

Part of him considered skipping exam day to have one-on-one time with you again.

“Jungkook.”

He jumped, jerking his head towards the hall, confused. Somehow, he had heard your voice. Or rather, did he imagine it? His teeth sunk into his lip, placing a hand on his forehead, confused. His head was confused. He couldn’t think straight. Why had he done such an embarrassing thing with you? Even you had told him to leave and report you. But Jungkook just couldn’t. Not then and not now. He had asked for it.

He still wanted it.

Nobody knew. Everybody thought he was a cocky, womanizing playboy. And he was, but not because of the sex. It was only because he was bored and that was all he could get. There was power in being on top.

And there was power in letting go.

You were bad for him.

He was a good guy.

You were a bad bitch.

And nobody knew.

A hand slapped down on his shoulder and yanked him around, the loose short sleeves of his yellow tropical shirt flaring out, making his sunglasses rattle on his face. You narrowed your eyes at him. Instant shivers down his spine at your stern gaze.

“Are you deaf?” you snapped. “I’ve been calling your name for the past minute.”

“I… S-Sor–”

You waved a hand dismissively, grabbing his right hand and slapping down a post-it into it.

“Chapters for the exam, including the date and time. Do not miss it this time. I will not let you make it up and fail you on the spot.”

You turned on your heel, letting go of his hand.

His left one shot out and circled around your arm, his rings pressing into your skin.

“Wait.”

You jerked your head towards him, glaring sharply. “Don’t touch me.”

And you yanked your arm out of his grasp, but his legs made the choice for him, following your swift strides, his backpack hanging off one shoulder, clutching the post-it and his last strands of sanity.

“Please, wait.”

“What?” was your curt response, not looking back at him.

“Please do it again,” he gasped breathlessly, unable to stop himself.

“Do what?”

“Have your way with me.”

You stopped walking.

Jungkook walked straight into your back and banged his nose on your head. He winced, stepping back and rubbing it gingerly. He didn’t register you turning around until it was too late and you were right in his face. You raised your chin and eyebrow simultaneously.

“No.”

He blinked rapidly, his tinted sunglasses halfway down the bridge of his nose.

“W… Why? Did you not like it? Was… was I bad?”

You let out an amused scoff.

The side of your lips curved upwards.

He had made you smile, even if only a little bit. Just that small thing was enough to feed his courage.

“I…” Jungkook coughed, clearing his throat before he spoke again, voice still a soft whisper in his embarrassment even though no one was around to eavesdrop. “I can be better. I can do better.”

Silence.

He thought you were going to walk away again.

You reached up and plucked his glasses off his nose. Folded them neatly and tucked them in his tropical shirt pocket. Then your eyes found his again and he knew something was different. He could see you clearly now, his vision no longer clouded by sienna.

Now, Jungkook could no longer stop it.

He could feel it all over him, coursing through his veins, arousal like fire. Something about you and something about him. Jungkook could sense the danger, but he didn’t want to run even though he knew he should. He had heard the rumors surrounding you. They could be true.

And yet.

“I want it,” Jungkook breathed, inviting himself into the danger. “I want you. I want to be your toy.”

Your discerning expression didn’t change.

You reached up and gripped his chin, digging your nails into his soft skin.

He whimpered in his chest, moving closer to you.

“What’s my name?”

His brows furrowed, saying your name hesitantly.

You pulled his chin down so he was eye-level.

“Next time you say my name, I will be choking it out of you.”

-

Everyone thought Jeon Jungkook was the kind of guy to grip your wrist with his left hand and your throat in his right, his lips against your ear and his sweaty chest against your back as you slapped your ass into his crotch and fucked yourself with his rock-hard cock, his smirk in your ear as he provided you with a certain type of encouragement.

“That’s right, you want this dick, don’t you? Show me. Prove to me you want it.”

His fingertips tightening against the sides of your neck, listening to your pathetic cries and moans as you tried to squirm against him, brain running out of oxygen due to lack of blood, running out of thoughts, running out of pleas as Jungkook gripped your wrist, deep snarl against your hair as he roughly finished himself off using your body because that’s all you were, someone to be used by him and nothing more, neck suddenly released with a breathless gasp and shoved face first into the sheets with his right hand splayed on your back, his tattoos and your orgasm crashing down on you, his growls staining the air and a fierce jerk of his hips to spill into your tight hole and leave you moments after, nothing but a discarded toy in his eyes.

You thought.

That was what everyone thought when Jeon Jungkook stood on stage, flipping his dark violet microphone between verses and smirking like a devil, truly in command of every thought and every pair of eyes on him, surrounded by a heavy bass line and deafening drums, guitar solo tearing through the moment to emphasize the next of his lips nearing the mic again, entrancing the crowd with his beautiful lips and talented tongue.

No one knew.

-

You were riding him hard and fast, torn condom wrappers and used condoms littering his bed, back-to-back orgasms, his head pressed into his pillows, your hand around his neck, the other leaving long lines down his chest, scratching him so hard that it dotted red, blooming lines of pain.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, f-fuck…”

Jungkook was hoarsely whispering, clutching his sheets, black hair soaked with sweat, raising his chest to your nails, whimpering, punish me, punish me, punish me, and you muttered plainly with a sharp edge, you talk too much, your grip tightening again, pressing onto the sides of his neck, cutting off the blood flow, and Jungkook moaned gratefully, eyelids fluttering, the slap of your hips to his louder and louder, filling up his whole bedroom, rattling his bedframe, fucking him so hard he was slowly sliding up to his headboard.

Your name fell from his lips in pure ecstasy, back arching to shove his whole length fully into you, thick and hard and twitching with need, your slick walls clamping down on him, fitting to him with a hiss. He began to match you, breathless, lightheaded, world hazy, moaning from deep in his chest, I love you, and your reply was only tightening your grip, your hand and your pussy, harder, harder, harder.

“Aren’t you such a good guy?” you scoffed sarcastically, letting up for only a second to let him reply, blood rocketing back into his brain, flooding him with oxygen, and Jungkook sucked in a lungful of air, reeling.

“N-No…” he panted. “You’re the good girl… you’re always s-so… so good to me…”

His eyes locked with yours hazy with lust and love. You almost looked away out of instinct.

“You a-always remember… what I like…” he managed to choke out.

-

You left him when you were done using him.

You pretended he didn’t say those words to you. There was no point in acknowledging the nonsense that he said in the middle of being choked and barely functioning. You tapped your pencil against your textbook.

You caught yourself thinking about him.

Jeon Jungkook.

Your eyes flickered to the clock. Late at night on a Friday. He was probably at a bar. You watched the second hand of your plain silver clock tick, tick away. You never asked to watch him and his band perform even though Jungkook always made it a point to text you the address and the time.

It was obvious Jungkook didn’t want you to be his secret.

He wasn’t really your secret either. You just saw no benefit to letting anyone know there was a connection between you and Jeon Jungkook. After all, you were just using him.

You stopped tapping your pencil.

Stared at the second hand.

Tick.

Heard the voices of the rumors poisoning you, saying the things they said.

She thinks she’s so much better than everyone else because she’s a nerd.

The only reason she has good grades is because she fucked that one professor.

I heard she dated him.

I mean, there’s a reason he left in the middle of the semester, right?

He had a wife!

Snap.

Your eyes flickered down.

The tip of your pencil lead rolled across the page, leaving tiny pinpricks of granite.

There was never any evidence because nothing happened. Nothing happened between you and said psychology professor. He left in the middle of the semester because his wife had a miscarriage and he wanted to be with her. It had nothing to do with you. You had long discussions with him about life and existentialism, hanging out during his office hours.

Sometimes, you felt bad.

Had you kept him from his wife? Would it have not happened if he just skipped his office hours and didn’t spend them talking to you? These were irrational, foolish thoughts. They made you guilty even when there was nothing to be guilty about.

He was a nice guy, mid-thirties. Everyone liked this professor.

They blamed you because they didn’t know.

Only you knew, because he told you with tears in his eyes and thanked you for being his student.

You didn’t tell anyone, because he did not owe you an explanation and you were not going to divulge someone’s personal business that they had shared with you in confidence. You watched your reputation crumble and fall apart, watched friends ostracize you, because you didn’t tell them anything and they didn’t believe you. You watched yourself turn bitter and hateful.

Just tell the truth.

There was no truth to be told.

You put your pencil down.

Closed your eyes.

Remembered Jungkook’s face.

-

Your hands were in his hair, pulling hard. His hot breath was in your face, arms shaking as he held himself up, fucking you into his mattress with whines in his chest, begging you, begging you, begging you.

“P-Please… let me cum, please…”

You liked to watch the sweat clinging to his high cheekbones and neck, jaw glistening with tension, feeling his strong body between your legs, his twitching hardness sliding into you repeatedly in rough, hard smacks, squeezing him every time he was fully sheathed inside you, vibrations coursing through you every time he came down.

“Not until I’m done,” you growled and he whimpered, pleading look in those brown doe eyes, black pupils expanded, unable to cum because a vibrating cock ring was restricting his orgasm, keeping him hard but unable to climax, sending thundering pleasure through him and into you. He watched helplessly as you gripped his hair, hissing sharply as another wave of pleasure overtook you, closing your eyes to savor it, savor his swollen cock twitching inside you as he felt the intense massage of your pussy walls closing around him, throbbing around the head and driving him insane, moaning pathetically because he couldn’t follow suit no matter how desperate he was.

Jungkook didn’t ask if you were done.

He just kept going because you told him he couldn’t cum until you were done.

And you didn’t say you were done.

You stared into those brown orbs, hazy with lust and full of conviction to be good for you.

Desperate to be the best and the only one, not knowing there was no one else because no one else wanted you like the way Jeon Jungkook wanted you.

“Pull out.”

“B-But…”

“You heard me,” you exhaled, throbs of pleasure still trembling through you. Your hands slid down, cupping his chin, nails digging into his sweaty cheeks. “Obey.”

With a pained whine, Jungkook obeyed, pulling out of you, his cock covered in your juices, wearing a condom and the black cock ring. You reached over with one hand to press the button on the remote to turn in off.

“Take it all off. Let me see your cock.”

He reached down and slowly pulled the cock ring off, taking the condom with it, whimpering at the sensitivity, his tone hitting a lovely pitched groan as the silicone squeezed the base of the head. His whole body was shaking as it fell from his hands, the veins on his length standing out, head purple-red and angry, white pre-cum slowly beading at the tip, and his face, looking down at you, waiting for your next move.

Cock waiting to be used.

You tapped your chest.

“Cum on my tits.”

“B-But–”

You cut him off.

“You’re going to cum on my tits and then you’re going to lick it off while I watch.”

-

He listened.

Jungkook straddled your waist with his thighs, muscular and defined, right hand wrapping around his cock, sweat making the tattoos on his forearm and shoulder glow in the low light, smelling like sex and musk, his core tightening as he touched his overstimulated length, using the lube of the condom and his own pre-cum to add to the pleasure as he began to stroke himself, moaning as you lifted your hands and cupped your breasts, pushing them together, his eyes on the curve of your cleavage and points of your hard nipples sticking out, and then your face, an indifferent look with a cocked eyebrow, taunting him, unimpressed by his timid grip on his cock, so he squeezed harder, tighter, embarrassing cries falling from his mouth, living for the smirk that slowly began to form on your lips.

It empowered him somehow, that smirk, the little inkling of satisfaction that Jungkook wanted, needed, craved, knowing he was doing well, being good, furiously pumping his aching cock over your pressed-together tits and he couldn’t last, couldn’t help it, too overstimulated and too turned on, too in love with this to prevent himself from tipping over with a hot gasp, spilling streams of sticky white lines over your breasts, spreading them everywhere, making a huge mess because he wanted a huge mess to clean up, shoving the head into your cleavage and shuddering at the sensation of warmth to his scorching heat, able to feel the pulse of the engorged tip dripping out what was left, shivers up and down his spine, the words falling from his mouth that he never stopped saying even though you never acknowledged them.

“I... l-love you…”

He stayed like that for nearly a full minute, but you didn’t tell him to get off.

His eyes were closed, savoring the feeling.

Slowly, Jungkook gingerly removed himself, lowering his body over yours, tongue sliding out, touching your skin covered in his cum, his taste, mine, no one else’s, him on you, lapping it up, salty and bitter and yet he loved it, loved that you told him to do it, loved that you let him paint your skin with his orgasm and now his saliva. He didn’t care that you never said anything to his I love you, didn’t care that you seemed to pretend he never said it, because he would continue saying it when he was with you, hopeless as it was.

It was the small things that kept him going, sucking his own cum off your nipple and wrapping his lips around it, hearing your soft sigh of pleasure, feeling the tap on his thigh that instructed him to scoot up, the small thing of your hand closing in on his spent cock, sending sparks of pain but also pleasure, moaning into your skin as you massaged his balls with your fingers, knowing that he could take more pressure and roughness because he had just came, the small thing of your thumb rubbing the sensitive slit, his face pressing into your breasts, smearing his cheek with his cum and saliva, sliding across your slick skin because of the intensity of the high it gave him, the pleasure and the pain, his right arm coming up to wrap around you, tattoos cradling your torso.

“I love you…” he whispered to your racing heart under his ear, lost in the rhythm of your heartbeat and the firmness of your touch. Jungkook did not care if you hated him saying it.

He would continue saying it as long as he was with you.

-

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing…?”

“Hmm.”

He placed his hand over the bottom of his phone and smiled at the cute girl that was talking to him at the bar.

“Sorry. I have to take this call. It’s important to me.”

He didn’t hear her response, because he backed away, bowing lightly, pressing his phone back to his ear.

“Ah, never mind, Jungkook.”

“No, no. What is it? Tell me.”

“You’re at a noisy place. It’s Saturday night.”

Jungkook pushed through the people, mumbling his apologies and straining to hear your voice over the thundering bass. “I finished. Well, we finished. We’re only drinking. I can leave at any time. I’ll just text the guys to bring my equipment back for me. Where are you?”

“Forget it.”

He opened the door of the club as the dial tone rang in his ear.

Looked up.

Your hand dropped to your side. You were still in your white dress shirt and navy skirt, dressed exactly like you were when at school minus the blazer. Jungkook’s eyes widened. He was in a torn-up long-sleeve shirt with the right sleeve removed, showing off his tattoos. His black hair was wild and half-wet, and he was wearing tight leather pants.

You clicked your tongue.

“I said forget it,” you repeated hollowly.

You sighed and turned around, skirt swishing in your wake.

“Wait, I’ll come with you–”

“Go back to where you belong, Jungkook.”

His hand closed around your forearm, holding tight.

“I belong with you.”

You stopped walking, silent.

“What is it? Tell me.”

You scowled. “It’s dumb.”

“So am I, remember?” he chuckled, his hand slipping down, squeezing yours. “I’m not very good at school.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment. Cars and people brushed past, but Jungkook was focused onto on your stillness, watching your eyes seemed to be thinking about many things. You hadn’t pulled your hand out of his yet. By now, Jungkook knew that if you didn’t want something, you wouldn’t be shy about telling him right away.

You started walking again. Jungkook was still holding your hand.

“It was just a moment of weakness,” you mumbled under your breath.

“A guy…?”

You didn’t answer.

Jungkook squeezed your hand. “It’s okay,” he murmured tightly. “I understand.”

He did not. He wanted to cry.

Your eyes shot to him, pinning him in place. “You don’t understand, Jeon Jungkook. You understand nothing.” You pulled your hand out of his and Jungkook let go, trying to hold his pain, trying not to breathe because he was preparing himself for the inevitable, the moment you were going to break his heart and, if it was right here and right now, then so be it, because he had said how he felt repeatedly and there was nothing more he could do than that.

He loved you so, so bad.

Jungkook knew he shouldn’t, that it was madness, but he did anyway.

But you surprised him.

Your sharp gaze softened.

“You know what they say about me. You have to know,” you exhaled, shaking your head. “You must know the rumors.”

Good girl gone bad.

Jungkook frowned. “About you and the professor?”

He watched your jaw clench.

“Does it matter?” he asked.

Your eyes shifted, not quite looking at him.

“Whether something did or didn’t happen, what does that have to do with me?”

And now you looked at him, guarded, not letting him know your thoughts.

“You…” He swallowed, trying to press the lump down in his throat. “You’re just using me, right? It doesn’t… doesn’t really matter, because in the end I don’t matter to you anyway… right?”

He did not want to cry and yet he did, because he knew he loved you. It was the small things, the way you never let up on him even in class, the way you picked days that were never the weekend and never before exams, the way you would brush your fingertips on his knuckles before leaving when you thought he was asleep, the way on the last time, the last time you were together, that you pressed your lips to his forehead when you thought he was asleep, running your fingers through his hair.

Jungkook was standing outside this bar and there were people he knew walking past, seeing you and him, but he kept his eyes on you, because the only one that mattered was you.

The one he belonged to was you.

He had decided that when he climbed onto the table that day.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and let out a heavy breath. “If people say things about you, then they say things about you. Whether it’s the truth or not doesn’t change the fact I love you. It doesn’t make me love you less,” Jungkook said, speaking at his usual volume, because there was no reason to whisper the truth. “Even if it’s pointless and crazy, I want to be with you until the day you don’t want to be with me.”

His smiled and blinked back tears.

“Even if that day is today, I will never regret it.”

In this cruel summer, you could have ruined his reputation. You could have told everyone the kind of person he really was and you didn’t. You could have spread embarrassing stories of the things you made him do and you didn’t.

Even if he didn’t matter to you, Jungkook was confident that you weren’t a malicious person.

You rubbed your forehead. “The rumors will come to you.”

Jungkook laughed. “So what? I heard a rumor that I removed two ribs so I could suck my own dick. I admit, I considered doing it after hearing that.”

You scowled, but Jungkook only smiled in return. He could see the tension falling from your face with his comment. You clicked your tongue and tilted your head, as if to say, can’t be helped.

“There’s no other guy,” you muttered. “There’s just you and you’re dumb.”

Jungkook blinked rapidly, confused.

“You say it over and over and make me think about it all the time.” You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. “I’m not a good girl. People pushed me away and I stayed there instead of trying to repair the burned bridges. I don’t even think I want to repair them. Who knows what will happen next? I don’t think it would be a good idea to put you through that shit.”

You sucked on the inside of your cheek, looking at him apologetically.

“You’re not the bad boy everyone says you are. You’re a good guy. You should find a good girl.”

Is that what you think? Jungkook chuckled, taking out his hand and rubbing his nose thoughtfully.

“I don’t want a good girl.”

He stepped toward you, lowering his hand and his head so that he was eye level with you.

“I love a bad bitch who can push me around and makes me their toy.”

He tilted his head, small curve on those beautiful lips, tiny mole underneath appearing with every smile.

“Which can only be you, you know.”

Jungkook didn’t try to kiss you. He only wanted to look into your eyes so you knew his conviction.

“I love you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’ve heard you say it.”

He nodded. “And I’m going to keep saying it until the day you leave me.”

Silence.

Ah.

Your eyebrow lowered and you gave him an indifferent look.

“Hm. I wonder when that will be, Jungkook.”

You leaned in, but before you kissed him, he heard the whisper against his lips, felt the shape of yours as they brushed against his, words he prepared himself to never hear from you, words that he thought you would never say, and that was fine with him, because you showed it, and that was enough.

He thought.

“I love you.”

And then your lips on his and his tears fell onto your cheeks because Jungkook wanted to cry all this time and he could not stop now, knowing that he was so, so in love with you and you finally, finally said it back to him.

--

masterpost

[gucciwins]

Are you Angel?

Harry gets hurt while on the job and Y/N gets a phone call she was not prepared for.

Word count: 7413

A/N: hello friends, it's been a while :) this is a continuation to my story Trouble Follows. You don't have to read but it will give you an insight of how Y/N and Harry met. I am thrilled to share more of firefighter harry with you. I adore him and I hope you do as well.

please do let me know what you thought of the story and please reblog! <333

Warnings: angst, breakups, hospitals

A firefighter will always run into a burning building with not a hint of hesitation. All their focus is on saving the people stuck inside.

Running towards trouble is second nature to them.

She knew that.

She also knew what it meant to date a firefighter.

The unreliable hours, the non-frequent communication, the many failed dinner dates. The twenty-four hours shifts when he would then arrive home to just sleep.

Harry had begun to give her a constant comfort that he would eventually come home and climb into bed behind her. He would then gently nuzzle his face in her neck, taking in her sweet honey scent. In contrast, she took in the woody ashy smell that seems to be permanently stained on him.

So trust her when she said she knew what she was in for when Harry asked her to be his girlfriend.

Four months in, she knew she would be here for a long time, maybe forever, if life would allow it.

She was sure; she knew what to expect.

But she didn't, not until she got the call.

The call that would shatter her heart.

The call that would lead her to be sitting in this uncomfortable, ugly brown hospital chair, holding tightly onto his ashy hand. As she prayed on and on to a God, she no longer held close but wished for Harry they were real and would bring Harry back to her.

Y/N prayed for Harry to finally open his eyes and give her a reassuring smile that he would be okay.

That they would be okay.

Until then, she'll wait.

Harry being Lieutenant allowed him to have a consistent schedule. That did not mean there weren't days where he had to pull a double shift or stay back to finish paperwork; he let it pile up.

The one day that was Y/N's was Sunday.

She got him an entire day to lay in bed together and eat all the baked goods she baked for him to try. It was becoming their day. Everyone at the station knew Harry could not be disturbed on Sundays unless it was the end of the world, and even then, they'd have to pry him away from Y/N.

He feels safe in her arms. Harry had never felt that before. Sure, he was surrounded by his firehouse family, but he had never felt so loved in two arms as if she could take all his problems and stresses away. Still, she did exactly that when she would flash him her gorgeous smile and hold her arms open for him to fall into at the end of every day.

Harry knows he's never felt this way, and he won't ever take it for granted.

This Sunday will be different, and she feels it as soon as she wakes up because, in her queen-sized bed, she's alone. No arms wrapped around her waist; no head tucked into her necks as he places soft open kisses to wake her from her sleep gently.

Already, she knows this is going to be a bad day. She feels it in her bones. Having been around trouble for so long, she knows the difference between good and bad. The feelings she has made her want to find Harry and pull him back into bed where she can keep him safe.

Y/N gets out of bed, throwing the warm sheets off her body going to the bathroom to do her morning skin routine, wanting to feel refreshed for when Harry breaks the news; he's going to leave her alone on their day. She knows him well enough; he's cooking her breakfast to make up for leaving her so early in the morning.

She walks out of her bathroom, going straight to her closet and taking out the first sweater she saw. It's a baby blue color and stitched on the left side on top of her heart is: "love me please?" It's Harry's favorite sweater of hers because it's an oversized sweater that fits him well. The only reason she has it back is that he wanted her to wash it and wear it until it got her smell again. Y/N kissed him silly when he told her that, plus she loves that it smells like him now.

Y/N takes one look at her unmade bed and walks away, knowing she's going to crawl back in after Harry leaves her. She walks out and, from the hallway, can hear Harry humming away. If she's honest, she doesn't recognize the song. As she has come to learn, Harry has an interesting taste in music; he has basically heard every song ever to exist. It's a reason they are so good at Four Clovers Thursday Trivia night. She dominates pop culture and films, and Harry takes on music. She's also better at history than him. Their friends love trivia night because their winning always gets them free drinks. It's something she looks forward to each week.

"Morning, H," Y/N says as she approaches him from behind and wraps her arms around his waist. Harry smiles, instantly feeling warm with her arms around him.

"Morning, firebug. Sleep well?"

She mumbles a no, causing Harry to laugh, and she feels it vibrate through her.

"Awe, upset I wasn't wrapped around you." He teases. "I'm making up to you by making breakfast."

She pulls away, spotting blackberries on the counter. "Sure, Jan."

Harry can hear the change in her tone and knows she's still goofing off with him but knows she's upset.

"Angel, come sit. Coffee is ready."

She shakes her head but makes her way over to the chair he pulled out for her. "No coffee. I'll be going back to bed soon." Y/N waits to see if he'll correct her, but he doesn't.

"I'm sorry." He begins.

"No apologies."

"Please let me. I'm leaving you on our day." He pouts.

"As much as I don't want you to go, I'm sure they need you more than I do."

Harry frowns, "I hope you'll never stop needing me." He whispers against her lips before closing the gap. Y/N hums against his soft lips allowing herself to get lost in the moment; she loves his kisses, soft and gentle just as he is despite what his sharp eyes might have one believe.

Harry pulls away after pressing one final kiss on her pouted lips. "I'm sorry I have to go to work, but I know for certain that I can meet you for a late lunch."

"Lunch?" She repeats, arms wrapped around his waist, hoping he was serious with his offer.

He hums. "Yes, 2:30, that bistro with that avocado dressing you like for your sandwich."

"It's a date." She grins, laying her head on his chest letting him hold her tight. He unwraps his arms, letting her go.

"I've got to get going, firebug, but I'll see you later."

"Stay safe, Styles." She tells him as she does every time he leaves.

"Try my best, angel."

With that, he slips his beat-up white Vans with lilac laces and walks out the door; it shuts it behind him. Just as Y/N steps towards it to lock up, it opens back up, startling her. Harry steps back in, and before she can question him, he places both faces on the side of her face and kisses her breathless. Y/N is quick to react, allowing their lips to move in perfect harmony, not as smooth but perfect, nonetheless.

"I--" Harry begins before he clears his throat. "I'll miss you, angel."

Y/N feels the heat rush to her cheeks because, for a moment, she thought he'd say another three words. "And I'll miss you, H. Now get out of here; I don't need you showing up late to our lunch date."

Harry smiles, dimples on full display, hugging her before walking out a skip in his step. She peaks her head out, making sure he gets in the car safely before he drives off. He sits there for a moment, and she knows he is letting his Bluetooth connect as he waits for his drive-to-work playlist titled "it's time" to start playing. He takes a look at his mirrors before backing out and driving. That's when Y/N closes and locks the door.

Time to go back to bed for a few more hours; what else is there to do on a Sunday when she's left alone.

Harry genuinely did not want to go to work today, but it's not like he could say no to his Chief. His Chief was never one to call in favor unless it was an emergency. He didn't ask, knowing he'd get the full story Monday, but for now, he gets on his pants, t-shirt, and boots and hopes there are no fires today.

The only thing is that Harry isn't used to working with the B-shift, sure he knows everyone's name and a little of their lives, but they aren't his usual team. He shakes that off because he knows he would do anything to help a team member and knows they would do the same in return.

Harry is lost in thought, wondering what Y/N was going to do today. He knows she planned to take him to a butterfly pavilion today even told him the outfit she had planned out for it. A pair of jeans that had flowers embroidered all over something she added, saying she thought they looked a bit plain, pairing it with a pastel pink top. Harry was surprised with her style after meeting her various times in different outfits. He was surprised at how soft she dressed in pastels. She may have a bold personality, but her fashion was delicate and warm. It was a nice balance.

He nearly runs into Carols as he made his way to his office, too busy thinking of the girl he left at home. "Sorry, bud."

"No problem, Harry. Surprised to see you here," Carols tells him, everyone knowing Sunday was Harry's day off.

"Chief had something come up and asked me to come in. I should be out of here by eight tonight if we're lucky."

Carlos smiles, "with you around, we usually are."

Harry chuckles, telling him he'll be in his office if he needs anything. He looks around his desk and sighs at how much has piled up already.

Might as well get ahead.

It's a few hours when Harry realizes the house is quiet. He peaks around the window and figures they are all in the common room. It's only one, and thankfully there have been no calls, and if it continues, then he will make it to lunch with his angel.

He shoots her a text.

Angel

13:24 PM

I miss you. Counting down the minutes until I get to see you xxx

Harry clicks send and smiles down at his phone. 2:30 couldn't come fast enough.

As he gets up to stretch and go for a snack in the kitchen, he takes a deep breath because as confident as he may seem, he isn't around the second shift. They don't know him so well, and Harry ultimately is shy. He may be able to hide it, but he has small quicks that others pick up on. Something he knows Y/N spotted quickly, like when he toes his foot into the ground or when he begins to chip at his nails, and Y/N's favorite is when he moves his hands behind his back and sways side to side. She finds it endearing, but others might not think it's leadership material.

He walks into the lounge to cross to the kitchen when a few heads turn to him, but before they can say a word, the alarm rings, and Harry is literally saved by the bell.

Not a second to waste, everyone heads over to the rig and quickly suits up. Harry is Lieutenant meaning he's in charge of the scene today, seeing as their captain and Chief aren't here today. Harry respects all the firefighters and knows this will go well if everyone carries out their job.

It's a factory fire, and as soon as they arrive, Harry can see it's burning fast. He's not sure how many people are there, but he calls in for reinforcements knowing they will need all the manpower they can get.

"This is House 102; please send more units available. The factory fire is burning at a faster rate than we can control. My team is going in now. There are five people unaccounted for; the left side of the building is clear." Harry speaks into his two-way radio.

"Carlos," the young firefighter jogs over, eyes on Harry, no longer staring at the roaring fire. "You're going in with Baz. Stay close and don't go up the second floor; you need to be quick in and out."

"Who's going with you, Lieutenant?" Carlos asks, clearly worried.

"Jameson and Rey are coming with me; stay safe, and if anything happens, just radio in."

"You got it!" Harry pats his shoulder and walks off towards the two waiting men.

Harry knows the men well, he trained them when they came into the house, but they preferred B-shift instead of being with him. One spot was available, and he knew they didn't want to be separated. Rey and Jameson have been dating for two years, but that's a secret only very few know. It's not prohibited, but if it gets more serious, one will have to relocate to a new station. They simply aren't ready for that, and indeed Harry would be sad not to have them around the house or hearing their stories. It just adds a more considerable risk because, at the end of the day, the job is first.

Rey walks towards the entrance with Harry following right behind. Jameson, a few feet back, calling out for anyone in there that needs help.

"Fire department, call out." Echoes out as much as it can as the fire begins to roar louder.

The heat gets worse the further they walk in; they turn right at the edge of a desk labeled "Torres."

"H, there!" Rey shouts, rushing over to a man knocked unconscious and had heavy storage struck over his legs, pinning him down. Harry and Jameson run over, assessing the man before making any sudden moves.

Jameson finds a pulse, weak but there. He gets the extra mask over the man's face hoping it'll wake him up soon.

"On the count of three, we lift," Harry tells the two men standing to a stand as the others do the same.

They nod. "One, two, three." They grunt in unison, pushing the container to a standing position. Harry looks over the man's legs and is thankful there is no blood, but there will be swelling and bruises. "Right, Rey, take him out. We'll keep searching."

Rey nods, lifting the man over his shoulder as he was trained to do, and rushes out of the burning building. Harry and Jameson have just learned a new area when the radio comes on. "Lieutenant Styles, it's Carlos. We found two men; only one remains unaccounted for."

Harry nods. "Got it, no one comes back in. We'll be out soon."

He now leads the way, making his way towards a stairway. There's no fire here, but it's moving faster, and smoke is thick. Whoever is in here might not last much longer without oxygen.

"Fire department, call out," Harry shouts, voice firm.

"Here.." a whisper is heard, both Harry and Jameson freeze. Once more, "here" is yelled but sounds muffled.

Harry looks around, not seeing anything but fire, and fears the structure will collapse soon. Just as he was about to yell again, he sees a can knocked, and a man hidden under a black rag is seen. Jameson rushes over, helping the man sit up. He's older, well into his sixties. He doesn't look too well; he has a few scapes.

"Right, we need to head out," Jameson tells Harry, helping the man stand up who is fighting consciousness.

"This is Lieutenant Styles; on our way out found the last man. Have paramedics on standby."

"Got it, Styles. Get out quick."

Jameson and Harry get the man up and head to exit. Harry can see the light of day and knows he will be late for lunch, but thankful Y/N is understanding and very forgiving. He'll make it up to her by buying dessert.

Just as they almost reach the door, a piece of dry wood comes falling down, separating Harry and Jameson; luckily, it did not hit them, but now Harry has to find a new way out. It's not looking good.

"Harry," Jameson looks panicked, but Harry stays calm.

"Get him out, now," Harry tells him, looking in every direction for what to do.

"No, I won't-" Harry cuts him off.

"Jameson, get this man out. He needs medical attention. That's an order." Voice full of authority with no room to argue.

Jameson nods and heads out. "I'm coming back for you."

Harry chuckles. He sees a small path, but it'd be a more extended way out. He debates what to do. He could wait, but the longer he stays, the quicker this building is beginning to collapse.

It takes him two seconds to decide to go right and find a new route out instead of staying put. He walks and only gets hotter as the fire begins to surround him. He's good at not panicking, always thinks better under pressure, but this is getting intense. Harry climbs over a crate and bends low to go through this tight space. He sees the exit, it's still a bit away, but he knows he is in the clear.

That's when he hears a big explosion knocking him forward. His oxygen masks flys off, landing a few feet away. As Harry reaches his hand out to get it, he's pulled back. He looks behind and sees he's stuck. There are crates stacked on top of him. The air is thick of smoke, and with no oxygen, it seems like the fire will soon enough engulf him.

Shit.

He's really in trouble now.

Harry presses his radio, holding it, hoping it's still working. "This is Harry," He coughs. "I'm trapped under a few crates. I can't reach my ask. I'm west of the building."

"Harry, hold on. We're going in." Harry hears Jameson reply, but he's fading quickly.

He shakes his head. "Can't go to sleep, but this smoke is too thick to actually see anything, let alone for his team to find him.

"Tell…" He coughs again, and this time doesn't stop for what feels like five minutes but is only a few seconds. "Tell angel, I'm sorry."

A voice comes over the speaker, but Harry's eyelids are fluttering shut, the weight of the crates is too much, and the smoke only gets deeper in his lungs if he keeps speaking.

Harry welcomes the darkness as he sees the one person he was supposed to meet for lunch. She's holding an outstretched hand for him to take and who is he to ever say no to her.

Real or not, he goes to her, and soon enough, he falls unconscious, not feeling when his team lifts him out and puts him in the back of an ambulance.

Y/N decided to show up a bit earlier for their lunch date, putting in their order early, wanting to maximize all their time together. She wouldn't see him until late that night, and honestly, she wasn't a fan of being separated on her favorite day of the week.

She sits on a bench right outside, both sandwiches wrapped tucked away in a brown paper bag and a lemonade sitting next to her untouched. It was his favorite, too sweet in her opinion. Still, Harry loved it, especially since he wasn't one to indulge in sweets unless they were hers.

Knowing Harry could be running late, she pulls out a book from her orange tote bag that Harry gifted to her. The book was Beach Read, Frankie recommended it to her then gave her the book saying she needed to read more romance books and not just poetry and nonfiction books. She actually enjoyed it, which surprised her, but even if she didn't, she's too invested to not find out the ending.

She was just starting chapter five when she feels too much time has passed and glances down at her phone.

2:55

25 minutes late isn't bad or unusual even; she decides to put the book away and keep an eye out for him. Usually, when he keeps her waiting, he makes up for it with a long kiss that never fails to take her breath away; she's excited about it now.

Time seems to go slower when she just sits waiting. She debates beginning to eat her sandwich when her stomach starts to growl. It's low, but she would feel bad if she began to eat, and that's when he shows up. She settles for waiting and instead takes a drink of the sweet lemonade.

As Y/N sits waiting for Harry, her phone begins to ring and displays an unknown number but the city's area code. Every bone in her body tells her to prepare for the worst but hopes she's paranoid.

She takes a deep breath before answering and bringing the phone up to her ear.

"Hello, are you angel?" A deep voice man asks.

"It's Y/N. Actually, can I ask who's calling?" She's holding her breath; only one person calls her angel.

"I'm calling on behalf of Lieutenant Harry Styles. Harry has been in an accident and was taken to the hospital. He asked us to call an angel on his way to the hospital. We assumed you were one of his emergency contacts."

Y/N feels her hands begin to shake. "What hospital?"

The man on the phone rattles the information, and she lets it all sink in. He hangs up, and she sits there waiting on the bench for her date that will not be showing up.

Her phone rings again, she answers without looking at the caller.

"Y/N," she recognized the voice; it's Mitch, and if he's calling, then it must be true.

"Mitch," she whispers, not recognizing her own voice. It's shaky, tears beginning to well up.

"Where are you?"

"At the bistro a street down from the station." She replies, hoping he's coming for her.

"I'm close; we'll pick you up and go see him, darling." She nods but remembers he can't see her.

Y/N isn't sure why she's not crying. She feels the tears, but it's like they are stuck; her heart hurts, and she knows that says enough. "We were supposed to meet for lunch. I got worried when he didn't show up, but I didn't think--" he interrupts her.

"Harry is going to be fine, trust me. He's okay, and he needs us there."

Y/N doesn't reply because she sees him pulling in. Mitch is in the passenger seat, Sarah is driving. She doesn't say a word as she swings open the door and settles in the back.

She sets her hands in her lap; she can feel herself trembling. She can feel herself breaking because she won't know if he's okay until she sees him. Mitch can say he's fine, but she needs to see for herself.

Sarah and Mitch share a concerned look; Y/N doesn't notice her eyes looking out the window.

"Y/N?" Mitch begins, voice full of concern. "Do you- are you okay to go see him?"

"Of course." She replies quickly. "He needs me; well, I hope he does."

"Course he needs you. Needs his angel by his side." Sarah tells her calmly, wanting to see her smile, but it doesn't work because only Harry should be calling her that. She shouldn't be on her way to see him in a hospital bed. She should have seen him next to her on that bench as he ate his sandwich and gave her kiss and kiss as she told him stories.

They are silent the rest of the way. Sarah pulls into an empty parking space, and she rushes after Mitch, who seems to know exactly where Harry is as he rushes past the front desk. The only thing that slows them down is waiting for the elevator; she gladly would have taken the stairs if Mitch didn't tell her that he's on the sixth floor. Instead, she waits impatiently for the old elevator that will take her to see her love.

He is going to be okay. He has to be okay. Y/N keeps those thoughts running through her head as Mitch and Sarah guide her to room 613.

Mitch walks in first, holding the door open, Sarah places a comforting hand on her back, and Y/N feels supported and loved, but nothing prepares her for what she is about to walk into.

The constant beep of Harry's heart monitor is the only thing that can be heard in his private room. The beep is steady; it makes her let out a deep breath. The monitor already calming her down, she approaches slowly as if he'd wake if she'd walk any faster.

She sits in the uncomfortable chair next to his bed and pulls it as close as she can.

Y/N just stares at him, taking it all in. He looks like he's resting peacefully like he should originally have been when they started this day together. His curls are disheveled, his face dirty with smoke stains and a few gauzes wrapped around his arms. She can't see much else but knows he's got a road of recovery still ahead of him.

"Hi, Harry," she whispers, her hand slowly reaching under the white sheet to grab hold of his right hand. "I'm right here, okay. Take your time waking up; there's no rush. Just know that I'm not going anywhere."

She pauses, hoping for a reply even though she knows she won't get one. "We can also discuss how I'm sort of one of your emergency contacts."

Y/N presses her lips to his hand. "Need you to wake up, want to see those Rapunzal eyes." She sits back, not removing her hand from his. Sarah has not taken her eyes off of her, Sarah might feel like she might blow up soon, but being at his side, she has begun to feel better.

"Harry, we're here for you. The whole team is outside in the lobby, probably why they sent us to the floor with the biggest waiting area. Even young Carlos is out there, saying you gave them a scare but really hopes you never pick up another B-shift again." Mitch sniffles before stepping out of the room. Sarah walks over to where he was standing.

"Hey Harold, it's trivia night in a few days, and kind of counting on you to get us those free drinks." Sarah chuckles. "It's been a while since we've been in the hospital. I think it was when I made you all donate blood for that ambulance competition. Fun times, now you rest and get better. The good thing is you have the best nurse looking out for you." Sarah glances at Y/N, sending her a small smile.

Y/N sits back in her chair as Sarah sits in one by the window. She knows she's in for a long afternoon and an even longer night.

Harry's head is throbbing.

He's not sure why. The last he remembers is leaving Y/N's house to go for his shift at the station.

They were meeting for lunch; he's sure she wouldn't let him drink any alcohol on the job.

Harry slowly opens his eyes and is blinded by the bright light. He sees a photo of the sunset right in front of him, and a tv hung up; if he's not mistaken, he's in a hospital room, primarily due to being in an uncomfortable bed. The oxygen mask over his face is also a dead giveaway he was in an accident.

He looks around, and he sees he is not alone. His angel is sleeping, a tight grip on his right hand; she looks exhausted. Mitch walks in just as Harry was about to wake her. Y/N mumbles and sits up, pulling her hand away from his to rub the sleep away. Harry wants to tell her to stop knowing how much it actually irritates her eyes, especially when she tubs a little harsher than usual.

"Were you able to find tea, Mitch?" Y/N asks, looking over at him.

"Sarah's bringing it over." Mitch's gaze never turns to her staying on Harry; this confuses Y/N and turns back around in her seat to look at a resting Harry but instead finds his eyes on her.

"Harry!" Y/N scoots forward, grasps his hand in hers. "You're awake. Mitch, the nurse, please."

Harry raises his free hand to take off the mask. He wants to speak, but this won't allow him. "No, love. Got to keep it on."

Harry's eyes close, then flutter open. He stares at Y/N, his eyes kind but defiant. He takes the mask off, coughing a bit; it makes Y/N feel nauseous, knowing he's not doing so well.

"I think you need to keep it on, Harry." She says, "the nurse needs to see it when she comes in soon."

"Hey, angel," he says in a raspy voice. It sounds like he's in pain when he talks.

"Yes?" She asks.

"I'm sorry for scaring you."

Y/N shrugs, "no big deal. I wasn't even scared."

Harry smiles, showering her his dimples since she last saw him this morning. He begins to laugh but stops when it causes him to cough. Y/N lets him settle down before bending down to gently kiss him.

"Now, let that hold you over, and put the mask pack on."

Harry nods. "Anything for you, my angel."

It's a half-hour before the doctor comes in, and by that time, Harry had fallen back asleep, only just waking up a few minutes before the man walked through the door. Mitch alerted everyone outside he was awake and doing good.

Dr. Vazquez walked white coat open, displaying a purple button-up and a bright yellow tie. It puts a smile on Y/N's face.

"Hello, Mr. Styles. Glad you're awake."

"Me too, Doc. Nice tie."

Dr. Vaquez smiles, looking down at himself, "Thank you, my wife picks out my tie every morning before she heads off to work."

"Lucky man," Harry tells him.

"That I am." Dr. Vazquez replies. "You've got a mild concussion, nothing serious, but you are allowed to sleep while you're here. We've got a good team looking out for you. You've got a few burns, but those will heal nicely if properly cared for. A few deep bruises on your leg and one on your rib cage, no blood clots. It will hurt to walk for a few days."

"Nothing too bad, then," Harry sighs, relaxing in bed.

"I've looked at your charts, and it looks like you will be making a full recovery and should be back on the job in three or four weeks. In the meantime, you will need to stay overnight and keep taking in oxygen. I see the nurse changed your mask. Please don't remove this one." Harry nods. "Any questions?"

Harry shakes his head no, "Not at the moment."

"Alright, I'll be off then. I'll come to see you tomorrow midday, and we'll talk about going home. I hear you have a waiting room full of people dying to see; just be aware that visiting hours end at nine, but if you're kind to Nurse Lucy, she'll be lenient to ten."

"Thank you, Dr. Vazquez." Mitch and Y/N say in unison as the man exits the room.

"That's the quietest I've ever seen you, firebug." Harry teases.

"You hush." She lightly pats his arm.

Mitch laughs, "going to go tell them you're allowed, visitors."

Y/N and Harry sit in silence. He can tell she has something on her mind, a slight frown on her face. He wonders if it's about him if she won't be able to handle dating someone who can be hurt by the job. Harry honestly does not want to lose her.

"I'm going to step out," Y/N tells him, looking down at their joined hands, not wanting to meet his eyes.

"Y/N," Harry sighs.

"You've got lots of people waiting to see you and roughly have an hour to see them all. I'll be close by." She leans down, presses a kiss to his cheek, and walks out before he can reach out to stop her.

She steps out while a few members of his team come in to see him offering her a smile as she passes them. As much as she didn't want to leave him, she needed a moment away, and he needed a moment with his family.

God, Y/N has never felt so scared, and now a minute alone, everything is beginning to set in. She has no idea where the restroom is, and the next thing she knows, she's running into someone, but it seems they recognize her because they say her name, and the next thing she knows, she's crying, sinking to the floor. She feels arms wrap around her.

Shushes in her ear, brushing the ends of her hair. It's calming, but she needs to let all the tears she's been holding in.

"Y/N," she can now recognize the voice as Sarah's, "I'm going to help you stand and sit you in the chair.

Y/N feels herself nod.

She begins taking deep breaths, never letting Sarah pull her hand away. It is the only thing keeping her grounded.

"I got her some water." Y/N hears Frankie whisper handing it to Sarah before taking the seat to the left of her.

"I'm okay," she repeats. "I'm okay."

"Y/N," Sarah begins.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, sweetie." Frankie brushes her hair back.

"I'm supposed to be strong; I have to be strong to do this to stand by his side," Y/N tells them, beginning to let her emotions out.

"No one is expecting you not to cry."

"Bu-" Sarah interrupts her.

"No. stop. Accidents happen, and so do injuries. It's okay to be scared and hurt."

"I want to be strong for him." She whispers.

"You are. You never left his side; you talked to him. You're crying now because you care."

She wipes her eyes with her sweater sleeves. "I love him, and I was so scared that when I got the call, I'd never get to tell Harry."

"Then you tell him as soon as you walk back into his room."

"Thank you."

"Nothing to thank, I care about you, and I know Harry would be grateful to know you're not alone. You've always got us. Now let's grab something to eat, and we'll come back in an hour once all of them go home."

She chuckles. "Alright."

"Text me where you're sitting. I'll pop in to see Harry, then meet you."

"You don't have to," Y/N tells Frankie because she knows she is just as concerned about her friend.

"Are you kidding me? You're my friend first, always."

Sarah and Y/N walk down to the cafeteria. She knows she isn't okay but is feeling better, finally letting emotion out. It was only a matter of time before she let the dam break; she's just happy it was not in front of Harry.

The girls sit in the cafeteria munching on snacks for well over an hour. Mitch sends them a message letting them know all the crew has left and it's time to say goodbye for the night. Frankie wishes her goodnight downstairs with promises to come to see her tomorrow and bring her a change of clothes.

"Let's walk you back," Sarah tells her, linking their arms together.

"Do you think he'll know?" Sarah takes a good look at her and grimaces. "I'll just say I tripped, and it made me cry." Y/N jokes.

"I don't think he'll believe that."

"Yeah, me either." The girls walk out of the elevator as their laughter dies down.

They settle in silence as they make their way to his room, Sarah holding her hand leading the way. Mitch is in the chair she was in for so many hours before waiting for him to wake up. Mitch hears their footsteps and turns his head, but Harry is frowning, looking out the window at the dark sky.

Y/N doesn't know what to say, but one look at him has her heart filling up with relief; he's okay.

He's fine, and he gets to go home soon, and she gets to love him all she wants.

Harry turns his head as she steps forward. "Angel," he breathes out.

It makes her eyes well up with tears again. "I love you," she just lets it out, as if she's told Harry this every day as if she never went a moment not saying it.

"Oh my angel," Harry begins to cry, feeling overwhelmed and incredibly happy. His angel loves him, and although this isn't a perfect day, the moment is.

Mitch and Sarah sneak out quietly, shutting the door behind them to give them their privacy.

"I love you so much. Please come here." Harry replies, voice shaky.

In the next second, she's moving forward, pulling the chair as close as she can as he grabs her hands, squeezing them tightly. She leans down and presses her lips to his chapped pink lips. They move gently, pouring all their love and fears into the kiss. Telling each other that the worst is over and they are together, and they are fine. Y/N pulls back, knowing she can't kiss him as long as she'd like due to his sensitive lungs.

"Harry, I love you, and I was so scared I'd never get to say it."

"I'm sorry, angel; I never wanted you to get a call like this, at least not before talking about it."

"Me either," She sniffles, no longer able to control her tears, "but it happened, and I'm just happy you're okay."

"I'm okay," he repeats. She smiles, taking one of her hands out of his hold to wipe his tears away; Harry can't help but lean his head into her gentle touch. "I'm okay because my angel is always looking after me.

"Harry."

"It's true. I've never been luckier and safer since you came into my life." She smiles. "But there's something we have to talk about." He continues, and by the tone of his voice, it's going to be serious.

"Are you okay?"

"What? I'm fine. You're the one in a hospital bed." Her tone is defensive.

"There's something wrong. I can see it."

Y/n sighs, taking a deep breath. She takes her hand out of his hold.

Harry is quick to mask his hurt.

"I don't like that you're hurt. I hate that we aren't at home in the kitchen dancing around to your Sunday playlist as I bake you a new treat." She says in a rush.

"Hey, love, relax," he says and gestures for her to move in closer. She does so, allowing him to take hold of her hands with a firm grip this time.

"You're upset because I got hurt?" She nods in reply to his question. It's stupid because, of course, he's going to get hurt; it'd be naive to think he wouldn't in his job.

"It's part of the job." He says simply. It's something he wants her to accept and remember. She thinks back to a month into dating when he told her about his ex-girlfriend and how she couldn't handle the unknown of the job each day he left her. Y/N thought she'd be fine, but she loves him, and losing him would be something she could never recover from.

"I know. It's just not easy to see." Her voice was quiet and defeated.

"What do we do?" Harry asks, and Y/N freezes; she can feel her heart beating in her ears.

What do we do?

"What do you mean?" She can feel her hands begin to shake.

"This can happen again." He gestures to him in the hospital bed.

"I know." She says softly.

"Is this something you can handle or not?" He asks very direct. She knows this might not be the first time he's had the conversation, but she just told him she loved him, and he's questioning her. She's allowed to feel this way, but it doesn't mean she can't handle it.

"Y/N," he begins, "I'm incredibly happy with you. I see you and me together for a long time. You're it for me, but this job is my life."

"I know," she repeats. "I would never ask you to give up your job."

Harry stares at her; heartbreak passes through his eyes. "Are you asking me to give you up?

She shakes her and begs for the tears not to fall, but it's no use. She feels them falling and can't wipe them as Harry has a hold of her hands.

"Harry, I love you." He frowns as if fearing the worst. "I love you, and I'd rather love you every moment I have you than let you go now and never know what could have been."

"Oh, thank god." Harry lets out a deep breath. She giggles. "I'm sorry we couldn't have this conversation earlier; honestly, I feared if I brought it up, you could possibly break up with me, and I selfishly wanted to have you longer."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere, not if it's up to me. Seeing you laid up is hard but knowing I get to be there for you makes up for it. Also helps that I'm a nurse."

"That it does."

Y/n grins at Harry, leaning in to kiss him, short and sweet for now. Each kiss never fails to make her heart race, and due to Harry's heart monitor, she knows it does the same to him. They sit in silence, staring at each other as Harry traces small shapes against Y/N's cheeks, loving the feeling of her in his hand. Especially when she lets out a soft giggle when he hits a sensitive spot.

"Move in with me," Y/N blurts out after a while of silence.

It shocks Harry. "What?"

"Until you're better. That way, I can be your in-home nurse."

"Only until I'm better?" She nods. "So, you'll give me the boot after." Harry teases.

Y/N can feel her cheeks warming up but pushes through, "Only if you're a bad patient."

Harry smiles, dimples on full display for her, always for her. "Okay, I can be good and naughty only when you ask."

"Harry!" She gasps.

He throws his head back, laughing.

"God, I'm so lucky to love you." His words warm her heart, and she promises to tell him every day from now on.

"Now get up here and cuddle me. I got Mitch to cue up Netflix."

"Are you sure?" She stands slipping her shoes off, knowing he won't be taking no for an answer.

"Going to deprive an injured man of what he wants most?"

"Guess not."

"Good."

Y/N crawls on and lays on his side, carefully resting her head on his chest. Harry presses kiss after kiss for his comfort, knowing he will be okay and has his favorite person by his side. She chooses Legally Blonde knowing it's Harry's comfort movie as much as he tries to deny it.

For an unusual start to their Sunday, it ends right; together in bed, a hospital bed but nonetheless a bed, together arms wrapped tight around each other.

Y/N might not have liked that Harry got hurt, but he's okay, and he will recover.

That's all she could ever ask for.

thank you so much for reading!

please send me a message of what you thought or if you'd like to see more firefighter harry

I adore you. take care xx

[tobesobri]

Traditions | 17.3k

a/n: it's been a while since I uploaded writing and for some reason I decided to sign up for this challenge and by some miracle actually managed to write something for it 🤯anyways, this is for the Valentine's Day Challenge by @1dffchallenges and it's honestly just a bit of fun, enemies to lovers little bit of angst and some smut! so i hope you enjoy! I'd always love to know your thoughts!! (also pls excuse any errors, I wrote this in a week with little editing lol)

prompt: doube date

dialogue: “So let me get this right. You want to hire me as your date for a Valentine’s Day Party?”

Pink and red were speckled throughout the entire office, whether it was a bouquet of chocolate roses, a banner of hearts, or stuffed bears residing next to bowls full of heart-shaped candies. Every employee’s section of the office had been filled to the brim with decorations as well. Pink and red ribbon taped carefully around the edges of their desktop computer, little store-bought balloons, also heart-shaped, grouped together and tied to desk chairs. 

And Y/N, dressed in her typical all black outfit, rolled her eyes as she paced through the office toward the one section in the back that was immune to all things heart-shaped, pink, or stuffed. 

She sat down at her desk with a loud sigh, her purse hitting the floor in its usual spot just before she slipped out of her jacket and draped it haphazardly between her back and the chair. It’d be wrinkled by the end of the day, but she didn’t care all that much, nor did she put much thought into the stains on her purse from leaving it on the floor. All she concerned herself with, after settling in, was getting straight to work… which was put on hiatus when she came face-to-face with both a pink and heart-shaped sticky note plastered onto the center of her computer screen. 

Groaning, she ripped it off and moved to turn her computer on before she bothered to read whatever was written on the note. She considered three potential suspects while she pulled her keyboard down onto her desk and logged in. There was Kayla, who worked front reception and was one of the main culprits of all the Valentine’s decorations. A strong contender. It could’ve also been Ines or Carmen, her closest work friends whom Y/N knew both owned a pad of pink, heart-shaped sticky notes. 

However, when she finally let her eyes fall to the note as her computer loaded up, the handwriting didn’t match any of the women she knew, and she was quite positive that none of them would have written was was sprawled out in black ink either.

Roses are red, violets are blue. I will fill your office with teddy bears and balloons, if you don’t send me your half of the proposal by two.

Harry.

She crumpled the note and tossed it into the bin under her desk. He could go fuck himself for all she cared. Sure, she was nearly done with her portion of the work and would be able to send it to him before then, but now that he’d pestered her about it, he’d be lucky if she even bothered to send it to him at all. 

She didn’t doubt the promise, i.e. threat, he made on the note, but being surrounded by teddy bears and balloons would be worth making Harry’s life just a tad miserable.

After opening all the apps she’d need to get her work done, namely Photoshop and Illustrator, she connected her drawing tablet and set up the rest of her work station for the day, both on screen and off.

Harry had worked at the company for about two years longer than her and she’d started off as an intern while she was still in college and, after graduating, was hired as a permanent graphic designer. They had never really gotten along ever since Harry—jokingly—asked her to get him a coffee once… or twice. Unfortunately for her, though, they ended up working well together and their boss had stuck them both on the same projects ever since. Especially after the month-long project last spring that had been their most successful one to date. 

While she came up with the design parts of client projects, Harry handled the more technical side of things and they’d never really argued much over each other’s work even though they clashed constantly at a more personal level. 

“I see your feeling festive.” Just as she’d gotten into the groove of her typical morning and had forgotten all about Harry’s stupid note, his voice interrupted her entire thought process. So when she swiveled around to find him leaning into her little office space, it was hardly a surprise when she glared at him, even though he feigned offense at her bitterness.

“You got my note, I presume.” He let himself into her space anyway, holding a mug of steaming coffee she was sure he’d just made in the workroom, and leaned up against the opposite side of her desk that housed a much larger, digital drawing tablet for when she needed to do more intricate design pieces. 

She just swiveled back around to face her computer again and went back to work as if he was no longer there. Pretending to ignore his existence proved to be quite difficult when the very particular woodsy, vanilla scents of his cologne met her nostrils and filled her entire office. Not to mention, the sight of what he’d been wearing singed the backs of her eyelids so that she still saw him every time she blinked. It was as if her brain refused to let her forget what he looked like in his white button-up, sleeves rolled to the crooks of his elbows, all tucked into his fitted black trousers that tended to get the imaginations going of all the women in the building. 

Not her though, of course. She was better than that. Obviously.

He cleared his throat, still very much present in her space and still very much giving her a migraine. “So will it be ready by two?”

“Well, I planned to send it to you before lunch.” She tweaked the spacing between letters of a potential logo for the millionth time. “But now… I think I might need the rest of the day.”

She heard rustling behind her and knew he was shifting his weight impatiently and running a hand through his hair as he often did when he was… displeased. “I told you I’m leaving early tomorrow and I need it no later than two.”

She cocked her head to the side, still staring at her computer screen and not giving him an ounce of satisfaction. “Did you tell me that?” She teased, an amused smirk lifting the corners of her mouth when she heard him groan behind her. “I must’ve forgotten.” Shrugging, she went back to her work.

“Unlike you,” he snapped, “some of us actually have a love life and I’d appreciate you not fucking up mine.”

She froze then, only for a split second, when his words sank in. Two thoughts raced through her head. The first a string of curse words because of his assumption that she didn’t have a love life. But the more prominent and worrisome part of his statement was that he did have one. And that he was leaving early tomorrow—Valentine’s Day—so he could get ready for a date.

Throwing both her prickly exterior and heartbreaking smirk up again, she turned to face him. “I’ve known you for three years now and if anyone has the potential to fuck up your love life, it’s you.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and her gaze fell to the hand that seemed to wrap a bit tighter around his Bugs Bunny mug. His knuckles whitened and she met his heated stare again, pleased with herself for getting him riled up before he’d even finished his morning coffee.

“So,” she continued before he get get a word of retaliation out, and sat back against her chair, crossing her legs confidently as she folded her hands in her lap. “Who’s the poor girl you’ve tricked into going on a date with you this time?”

Harry had a terrible track record. The longest relationship he’d been in lasted for two months, and that was well before she’d known him. Everything else he had was just a one or two night thing and nothing more. Sure, it was all more than she had, but she preferred it that way. Harry seemed to resent the fact that he couldn’t keep a girlfriend to save his life.

“You don’t know her.”

Her smile widened. “How long have you been seeing her?”

“Couple weeks.”

“Ooh, that just might be your second longest relationship, Styles.” 

“Well at least I’ve had one.”

His jab didn’t have an affect on her however, and he knew it wouldn’t because it never did. He knew she didn’t give a damn about relationships, or at least that’s what she claimed anyway. He couldn’t think of many twenty-four year old women who actually wanted to be alone. He actually couldn’t think of a mid-twenties anyone who wanted that.

“You’ll have to try harder than that.” She said nonchalantly, which irked him even more than he already was, and then swiveled away from him one last time, picking up her drawing pen and getting back to work.

“What’s your issue with relationships?” He went on and she knew he was headed right down a path intended to hurt her feelings just as much as she had his. So, she tensed slightly and braced for impact. “Is it a commitment thing? Or can you just not find anyone to put up with you for longer than five minutes?” 

She let his words sink their teeth in and then smiled to herself. “Hm. Seeing as you’ve been in my office now for,” she checked the time at the top right-hand corner of her screen, “eight minutes, maybe we should date.” She lifted a brow, awaiting his next response. 

It felt a bit like a cat-and-mouse chase bickering with Harry and since she was usually the cat, it brought her way too much pleasure fighting with him.

He scoffed. “Like I’d lower my standards for you.”

That one hurt, she had to admit. Not out loud or to Harry, but it still stung because it was true. He’d have to drop his standards to the floor to even consider dating her and she knew it. 

“Maybe,” she began, still half focused on her work, and ignored his comment all together, “some of us like being alone.”

“Nobody likes that.” He responded quickly and she heard a shift of his weight again and then his voice once more a few moments later. “It’s nice to be by yourself sometimes, yeah, but you can’t tell me you don’t want someone to come home to at the end of the day.” He crossed one leg over the other as he gripped the edge of her desk for support and just when she thought he was done, he kept going, “Someone you can vent to about your annoying co-worker.”

She glanced at him through the little portable mirror hanging above her desk—mostly used to make sure she looked decent before meeting with clients or, sometimes, Harry—and saw the tight smile on his lips. Almost as if that’s what he wanted, like he was talking about himself and not her. 

She’d slowed her progress down while he’d talked until she was no longer working at all. She no longer swiped her pen across the pad or had any idea what she was even doing when she focused solely on his words. Because, once again, whether he was talking about himself or about her, he was right.

“Yeah well,” she quickly hid herself back behind her wall and made her hands function properly again. “Some of us also don’t have the luxury of choosing whomever we want.”

She imagined him smirking at that one because, buried deep within her words was a compliment. That he was handsome enough to actually have anyone he wanted.

Instead, when she glanced at the mirror again and found him, there was the complete opposite of a smirk on his face, and as he stared down into his mug, clearly lost in thought, she wondered what the tightness in his jaw and the frown pulling on his lips meant.

She sighed and stole his attention away from his coffee. “I’ll have it to you before lunch. You can go now, unless you’d like to argue some more and slow me down by another…” she glanced at her clock again, adding up all the time he’d been standing in her office, “fifteen minutes.”

Without another word, she listened to the drag of his footsteps as he finally left her office space. And although she was glad to be rid of his distraction, the room felt so much bigger and so much colder and emptier without him in it. Shivering, she slipped back into her jacket and spent the next few hours doing nothing but staring straight ahead at her screen as she made final adjustments to her designs. 

Any other conversations with Harry were had over email as he worked in his own respective office, messaging her with every little concern he had in order to get his work done efficiently so that he wasn’t stressing to finish it tomorrow before he had to leave. Even though Y/N considered not responding to him a few times, just to spite him and slow him down for her own amusement, she found herself feeling guilty after leaving him hanging a couple times. Sure, she hated Valentine’s Day and everything surrounding it, but she’d almost hate even more the idea of both her and Harry being miserable tomorrow, so she inevitably gave in and cooperated with him. She’d probably regret it when he came back on Thursday spreading around the office all the gory details of his date, but at least he wouldn’t also be in a shitty mood. Her days were both boring and slow whenever Harry wasn’t having a good day. And although she’d blame it all on selfish reasons, it did also make her sad to see him frowning around the office and sulking when all she wanted to do was bicker with him and make him smile again, even just a little bit. But it was easier leaving him to his own devices than risk him finding out she cared about him enough to not wish sadness upon him.  

She couldn’t say the same for him. Harry probably relished in the days she came into the office in a sour mood. He probably celebrated and threw a party whenever she was upset, and, even so, it didn’t change how she felt about him.

The sun had long set and most of the office was gone by the time she finally called it quits and began packing up her things and giving her computer a rest for the night. There were still quiet murmurs from other workaholic employees, which comforting her knowing she wasn’t completely alone in the building, since the last time she’d done that, it took everything in her not to have a panic attack all the way to her car. 

Even though her boss told her countless times not to stay past five o’clock, as he told every other female employee that worked for him that he didn’t wish to see attacked after sunset in the city. Of course, when she was the only one who didn’t listen to him, he hired more guards and one of them rounded the corner into her office space, ready to escort her all the way down to her car.

“Figured you were still here.” He leaned against the walls of her cubicle and watched as she startled, twisting to meet his eyes for a moment before she settled and returned to slipping her belongings into her purse. 

“I don’t need you to escort me.” Zipping her purse, she rose from her chair, checking one last time across her desk to make sure she’d grabbed everything she needed to take home with her before turning to him as he still lingered in the opening of her little office. 

William had been hired a couple months ago, and was only a year older than her, but even so he was more than a foot taller than her and his biceps were about as big as her head. While the entire office drooled over him, she tended to keep her eyes and her thoughts to herself. 

“You say that every night you stay late. Just let me do my job and shut up about it.” He smirked at her and when her eyes met his again, sharply, glaring at him, she groaned and whirled past him toward the elevators. He followed swiftly behind, knowing she’d close the doors on him if he didn’t keep close enough pace with her, mostly because she’d done it before.

As he took his spot beside her and she pressed the button for the parking garage at the basement of the building, a familiar voice rang out through the office.

“Wait!” As if she wasn’t already annoyed enough with William’s presence, his stupidly large arm held the elevator doors open as Harry slipped inside a moment later.

“Thanks, mate.” Harry said exclusively to William as he caught his breath and stood wedged in the middle between the guard and Y/N, who was inching closer and closer into her corner to get away from Harry.

“You have any plans tomorrow?” Harry asked, his attention solely on William again while the elevator took off down through the levels of their building. Not fast enough for Y/N, of course.

William sighed, crossing his arms and trying to resist smiling. “Me and my girlfriend take turns surprising each other every year. And it’s her turn this year… so I guess I have plans, but I don’t know what they are.”

“Damn, way to make us feel incompetent.”

Y/N whirled her head to glare up at the side of Harry’s face. “Speak for yourself.” She warned.

Harry just ignored her though. “What did you guys do last year?”

Again, William stifled a grin. “I had been saving up for a while and took us both to Paris.”

“Shit.” Harry’s eyebrows rose and Y/N rolled her eyes away from him, watching the LED screen above the elevator doors as they neared the bottom levels of the building. She knew Harry and William had become friends, mostly because Harry was annoying and befriended everyone. Except her, of course. She heard his stupid voice again and wished she could just transport herself directly into the front seat of her car and be done with the both of them. “And now she has to do better than Paris.”

Y/N glanced around Harry just in time to see William smirk and she should have known what was about to come out of his mouth before it did. “Well, I don’t consider much better than her mouth ar—“

Y/N cut him off. “Ew! Are you serious?”

Both men eyed her curiously just as the elevator came to a stop and, with a ding, the doors opened. She flew toward them quickly.

“Y/N wait, I have to—“

Again, she cut him off, turning once she was out on solid ground. “I’ll be fine, besides trying to rid my mind of that image you just burned into it.” She turned on her heel and headed off toward her car.

William made a move toward her and Harry grabbed his arm, “I’ll walk her. Forgot she’s a bit of a prude.” They shared an amused look and Harry jogged out onto the concrete and asphalt until he reached her side.

“I heard that, you know… and I know for a fact your car is not parked in this direction.” She seethed and he just smiled to himself, happier than ever that she was in the mood to bicker with him, because he wasn’t quite in the mood to leave yet, where he’d have to wait till tomorrow morning at nine-thirty to see her again. And she wasn’t always the most talkative person on Valentine’s Day, either.

“Why are you the only female in our building not foaming at the mouth over him?” He asked instead, referring to William.

He heard her scoff. “Just because he’s attractive doesn’t mean I have to be interested… or want to hear about his girlfriend sucking his—“

“Cock?” Harry finished for her and within a second she spun around to face him, forcing him to stop in his tracks just inches from her now. His smirk only grew when he saw just how quickly he’d gotten her all flustered. 

And then, as they started each other down, the hardness in her face softened and she drew out a breath, forcing his eyes to fall to her lips and his smirk to fall from his mouth. He thought back to last spring, when there were numerous late nights with her just like this one. When he went home and couldn’t stop thinking about…

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked and he blinked a couple times before he lifted his eyes.

“Like what?” He furrowed his brows, trying to track down all the resentment he had for her but he couldn’t find it anywhere anymore. He couldn’t summon it and say something that would save his ass from being caught looking at her like he wanted to kiss her.

Like he wanted to taste her and feel her against him, and hear what she sounded like when he tugged at her hair for more.

“Nevermind.” She shook her head, silencing the chaos going on in his brain. And then she turned, continuing the walk to her car with or without him, but, when she heard the echoing click of his shoes against the asphalt once more, she knew she wasn’t rid of him yet.

“I don’t suppose you’ll give me a ride back to my car, will you?” He easily stepped back into place beside her like nothing had happened.

She didn’t say anything for much longer than he was comfortable with. And then, finally, they reached her car and she sighed. “Get in before I change my mind.”

As she went for the driver’s side, he took quick steps to the opposite side, watching her over the top of her little Honda as she unlocked her door, and then, after clicking the button, his door as well. They both slipped in at the same time and while she fastened her seatbelt and settled in for her drive home, he sat perched with his backpack in his lap, knowing he’d be out of her car within only a couple minutes.

He still glanced around at his surroundings as she backed out of her parking space. “Should’ve guessed your car would be as neat as your desk.”

She didn’t say anything as she drove in the opposite direction of the exit toward the section of the garage Harry always parked in. It was closer to the elevators because he always came in before her and snagged a prime spot. She preferred an extra few minutes of sleep over walking an extra fifty steps.

And he started up again when she continued to not talk to him. “Most artists I know of are super messy.”

“I’m not an artist.” She gritted out through her teeth as she came to a stop once she spotted the rear-end of Harry’s BMW. Although she knew it well enough to distinguish it from the other black BMWs in the garage, it also helped that Harry had an old, faded license plate cover filled with a collage of cute pictures of puppies. He’d said it won him bonus points with women, but she also knew his screensaver at work was a picture of puppies as well, and no women he was interested in ever saw that.

He peeled his eyes off his car and looked over at her. “I know you can draw, too.”

She paused, gripping her steering wheel. She did enjoy both art and design and she knew Harry knew the difference between the two. She just didn’t know why he always insisted on bugging her about it. 

“Yeah, well that doesn’t make me an artist.”

When he didn’t say anything, she glanced at him just in time to find him shrugging a shoulder like he was agreeing to disagree. Even if she couldn’t draw, he’d still consider her an artist because the things she managed to design always blew his mind and if that wasn’t art… 

She rolled her eyes. “Are you going to get out, or do I have to drag you?”

He grinned, and it was almost as if her eyes refused to see anything else but his dimples and the bright whites of his teeth, and the birthmark to the side of his mouth… 

“I’m going.” He assured, and yet he still hadn’t moved an inch. “Even though I’d love to see you try to drag me.” With her knuckles whitening on the steering wheel, he chuckled and unzipped the small pocket on the front of his backpack, withdrawing his keys as he finally swung her door open.

Once he was out, he gripped the top of the door and leaned back in to find her staring straight ahead. “Drive carefully, yeah? Would be quite tragic for your bitter ass to die on Valentine’s Day.”

She reached over and, despite having to brush her knuckles along the side of his thigh, grabbed the handle of the passenger door and yanked. His body remained in her way, however, and he was unfortunately a lot stronger than her.

Then she finally looked up at him, and those thoughts he had earlier surfaced again as much as he’d tried to bury them. This time though, he didn’t fight it as he glanced at her lips once more, then back at her eyes, which had widened slightly just before the dimples reappeared in his cheeks. “And I guess I would miss bickering with you every day.”

With that, he was gone and she retreated back to her seat as he shut the door for her. She had no idea what to think about what had just happened. Why he’d looked at her like that again. What that look even meant. 

By the time she reached the freeway, she’d convinced herself she was just seeing things. Harry wasn’t looking at her in any other way he had before when he was intent on pestering her. But, as she took in the scent of him still lingering in the cabin, she allowed a small part of her to hope she was wrong.

Her eyes fell on the man down the hall from her door as she slipped her key into the lock, her brows furrowing as she watched him. It wasn’t unusual for their paths to cross, as they tended to get home around the same time, but it was quite odd to see him sitting on the floor outside his apartment, his head in his hands. 

They’d said hi to each other a couple times in the mailroom, but she definitely didn’t know him well enough to go up and ask what his issue was or try to fix it for him. And after it was confirmed that he hadn’t, in fact, lost his keys, as they sat beside him on the floor along with his phone, she figured it best to leave him be. 

Turning her key, she pulled her gaze from him and disappeared from the hallway.

The second she was inside her apartment, she felt all the weight lift right off her shoulders, especially when her cat came racing up, screaming at her from the floor while also coaxing her toward the kitchen to fill the food bowl. Whatever was going on with her neighbor still very much on her mind, she tried to focus instead on relaxing and getting both her and the screaming Pretzel some dinner. 

She tried to remember his name as she heated up leftover pasta. She knew it started with an A, but her brain was coming up short. So, while Pretzel crunched on his food in his corner of the kitchen, she tried her hardest to remember. 

And it was no question why she cared so much. Her neighbor was someone she was actually interested in, and she had been since she first saw him. Of course, she was never foolish enough to think he was into her, but she still let herself fantasize. He was tall, nearly black curly hair atop his head always in a state of disarray, and he had the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen hidden behind his glasses. And, if she was being honest with herself, he was just a darker-haired version of Harry. Maybe that’s why she liked him.

The beeping of her microwave tore her thoughts from the dangerous path they’d been headed down. Harry’s voice rang in her head a moment later.

Like I’d lower my standards for you.

She’d needed to hear him say that, because sometimes her thoughts got carried away when it came to Harry and sometimes she did let herself be a fool who hoped. But after he’d said that one damning phrase, it was enough for her to stop. She didn’t meet a single one of his standards, inside or out. 

Still, she tried her hardest not to go back out into the hall and make sure her neighbor was alright. Maybe he just needed someone to talk to and it wasn’t like she was doing anything important. Even if she didn’t have a dumb crush on him, as she did Harry, she still didn’t enjoy seeing him in the state he’d been in.

Before she could work up the nerve, however, a knock sounded through her quiet apartment.

She held her breath as she opened her door, really hoping it wasn’t the boy from across the hall, since she was still blanking on his name, but she couldn’t imagine anyone else knocking on her door this late into the evening. 

So when she inevitably found him there, looking down at her through his annoyingly long lashes as she took in the horrible state he was in—red, inflamed eyes and hair that needed to see a brush rather than his hand—she completely lost her breath instead.

“Uh, sorry, I… saw you come in and I know we don’t talk and this is a weird thing for me to ask but…” He ran said hand through said messy hair and she found her breath again while looking up at him like she’d do whatever he’d asked just so he’d stop frowning.

He sighed, glancing down the hall toward his apartment and then met her curious and somewhat concerned gaze. “Can I come in?”

She recoiled. “Um… why?”

“Well, um, I was hoping you could help me with something and I’d rather not have the entire floor know about it.”

She was beyond confused now, but still, she stepped aside and let him pass, assuming that if he was actually a murderer he would have done her in a lot sooner than this. He had plenty of other opportunities. Plus, something in his face just… made her want to trust him.

She closed the door and turned to him, watching as his eyes scanned her kitchen and where her food still sat before he twisted around, eyes wide. “Shit, I’m sorry for interrupting.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine.” And after clearing her throat, she crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you, um… what do you need help with?”

He swallowed and she watched his Adam’s apple budge in his throat. “I don’t imagine you’ll like me very much after I ask but… I need a date.”

“What?” Again, she nearly flew out of her skin.

His eyes darted back and forth between hers, gauging her reactions and very obviously on the verge of seeing himself out and pretending this never happened. Instead, he stuffed away his pride and went on. “My ex… she, uh… well we broke up a few months ago and I saw her the other day and she’s seeing someone and we were talking and I… told her I was seeing someone too and so she invited me to go on this stupid double date with her… but the thing is… I’m not actually seeing anyone and I just told her that so she’d be jealous but she didn’t seem jealous at all and I don’t exactly have many friends to ask for help and I saw you and…” He rambled, but she managed to understand his predicament just fine. 

“A double date? With your ex?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know either. She’s… she does weird shit but… I still want her back.”

Y/N’s heart ached in her chest. As much as she detested relationships, she was a sucker for other people’s relationships and she was definitely a sucker for her beautiful neighbor, even if he was asking to use her to make his ex-girlfriend jealous.

“Not that I’m saying yes but… when? And where?” She finally asked after thinking things over for a moment.

“Tomorrow night… I can pay you. I will pay you, I mean… but, seriously, you don’t have to do it I just thought I would ask.”

“Where is this date at?” She repeated when he didn’t answer that part of her question.

“At this party… and bef—“

She cut him off. “Okay so let me get this right. You want to hire me as your date to a Valentine’s Day party?”

He lifted a brow, “Well, there’s more… she wants to get dinner before going to the party.”

She shook her head, looking away, “I don’t really do Valentine’s Day…”

“You wouldn’t have to do much. I’ll pay for your dinner, too. Whatever you want. I just… really need your help and you’re my only option.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You realize I’m not exactly…” she waved at her face and his eyebrows screwed together in confusion. “I’m not easy on the eyes and I don’t think taking me will make anyone jealous.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, just stared at her incredulously. She shifted her weight nervously and he finally opened his mouth. “You don’t actually think that, do you?”

Her features scrunched up and she kept her eyes planted on the middle of his chest. And then he realized that she, in fact, did.

“I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have asked you to do this.” He also realized that using her to make his ex jealous would possibly hurt her more than it would help him and he could no longer fathom putting her through that. “I’ll figure it out. I’m sorry.” He moved to walk past her, back to his apartment but she stopped him before he got far.

“No… I’ll help you.” And then she realized his identity was still somewhat of a mystery to her. “This sounds even worse than what you just asked me to do, but… I completely forgot your name.”

He breathed out a laugh. “It’s Adam.”

She knew it had started with an A!

“Y/N.” 

He smiled wider and nodded. “I know.” And then his face grew sad again. “I am really sorry I’m asking you to do this on Valentine’s Day, it’s definitely not my proudest moment.”

She waved him off. “I wasn’t going to do anything anyway. Just tell me what you need me to do.” She didn’t bother brining up the whole payment thing. She didn’t really care about being paid. He was nice, the only nice person she’d encountered in her apartment building and if getting him back together with his ex meant she’d never have to come home and see him in the fetal position on the floor again, she’d suffer through a date and a party on her least favorite holiday.

It was somehow even worse than it’d been yesterday. The decorations seemed to triple in size. Not an inch of the office was untouched by something pink and she prayed whoever had put up even more decorations had spared her little cubicle.

“Oh, hey, Y/N!” One of the receptionists most responsible for the overflowing decor, Kayla, called her over to her desk not even a minute after Y/N had arrived. And she stalked over until she saw the package Kayla pulled out that instantly lifted her spirits.

She stopped in front of Kayla’s desk and took the thin box from from her, already knowing what it was and thanking god for the timing so that her entire day wasn’t completely miserable. It was a new drawing pad she’d ordered, a bigger one that she hoped would be a bit more efficient to use than her current one.

Even with her back turned to the rest of the office, she sensed Harry’s presence long before he stopped beside her with his mug in hand.

He lifted a brow at the package in Y/N’s hands just as she reluctantly turned to look at him. “Getting gifts sent to the office? That’s a first.”

She rolled her eyes and stuffed the box under her arm, holding herself back from running off to her office to set it up. “Jealous?” She cocked her head.

And instead of his condescending smirk and a hateful response to go with it, the sparkle in his eyes seemed to fade as he eyed the box again, genuinely worried now that it was actually a gift from someone. 

Before either could say anything, they all turned to find a delivery man walking up to Kayla with a giant bouquet of flowers in tow. And so it began. Although, when Kayla took the vase from the man eagerly, a bright smile on her face because Kayla loved love a little too much, Y/N couldn’t help but think about Adam. About how the only time she’d managed to get a date on Valentine’s Day was when it wasn’t even real. Instead, she’d stupidly agreed to help her cute neighbor win back his ex-girlfriend in exchange for a free dinner.

It was… pathetic. To say the least.

She felt Harry watching her, too, while she eyed the bouquet of flowers as they departed reception with Kayla and made their way to their recipient. As stupid as she found everything about the holiday, she couldn’t help but want someone to send her flowers. To give her anything for that matter. To have thought about her for at least a second of their day. Harry cleared his throat and she tore her eyes away.

“So… what’s in the box?”

“None of your business.” She rounded him, heading to her office, but he grabbed her free arm to stop her short and didn’t speak until she met his gaze again.

“Can we meet up in my office to finish the proposal? Think it’ll be easier to get it done than over email.”

She had every reason to be suspicious of him. They almost never worked in each other’s offices. When they did work together, which was often, it was in one of the empty conference rooms and it was usually at the beginning of the process when they needed the space to plan things out. The last time they’d really been in each other’s offices was last spring. Figuring he just wanted to get things done so he could be out of the office on time, she let it go.

“Give me fifteen minutes.”

He watched her walk away, watched her even as Kayla returned and noticed his gaze and giggled at him as she took her spot back behind her desk.

“It was something she ordered for herself, by the way.”

“What?” Harry whipped around again, not having even realized the other woman until now.

“I know you two pretend to hate each other but I see the way you look at her, Harry.” Kayla lifted a brow at him as she began typing on her keyboard.

He feigned disgust. “I’m seeing someone, you know.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.” He insisted. “I have a date. Tonight.”

She lifted her hands in surrender. “Okay… I’m just saying.”

“I don’t look at her.”

Kayla suppressed a smile and snorted instead. “If you say so. I guess you didn’t also sneak into her office this morning, either.”

“I think all these flowers and stuffed bears and heart-shaped things have gotten to your head.” He pointed around to the decor littering her desk while holding his mug steady.

Kayla met his eyes and her smile slipped off her face. “Harry, please don’t mess with her.”

His face screwed up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you don’t like her then don’t lead her on.”

“I don’t think she’s capable of being led on.”

Kayla froze for a moment and then nodded. “You’re right.”

He wasn’t sure what she meant by that either. “Why are you being weird?”

“Because,” Kayla sighed, brushing her curled brunette hair onto one shoulder and then lowered the volume of her voice. “I happen to know she doesn’t think very highly of herself and I’d rather not see her get hurt, especially not by you.”

Now Harry froze. The hand that gripped his mug tightened and he didn’t even flinch as it began to burn his skin. He heard Y/N’s voice in his head then as he drowned out his surroundings.

Some of us don’t have the luxury of choosing whomever we want.

He had instantly regretted what he’d said to her yesterday when she’d told him that. And now hearing Kayla, in a way, confirm what he’d read between the lines of Y/N’s words… his chest tightened in quite possibly the worst way ever. He’d hated himself most of the day after telling her he’d never lower his standards for her and he could say he was just bickering all he wanted, but he knew now for certain she took it the wrong way. And he wished more than ever that he hadn’t said something so horrible to her, especially when it was the farthest thing from the truth. 

And the real truth, that he was trying desperately to shove away with stupid remarks like that, was that he didn’t meet her standards. She wasn’t into relationships and he knew he wasn’t good enough to change her mind.

“How do you know that?” He finally asked.

“That Christmas party last year… she’s a really happy drunk until she’s not.”

He flinched. “Did she say something?”

“I don’t want to get into it, mostly because I don’t think she remembers and would probably kill me if I told you but… just leave her be.”

He hardened back up again. “She does’t have any interest in relationships anyway, ‘specially not with me.”

Kayla scoffed. “She’s a really good liar.”

Harry stood there for a few more moments, feeling as if his life had just gotten flipped upside down. He’d been in such a good mood mere minutes ago before his dumbass waltzed into reception all because he’d seen Y/N. Because, despite everything and despite the fact he was already attempting to date someone else, it was Y/N he wanted to be close to all the damn time. Groaning, he turned on his heel and left for his office, hoping she wasn’t there waiting for him so he could have a moment to himself to gather his thoughts.

In a hurry to open her package, Y/N slumped down into her chair tossing her purse on the ground at her feet and pulling out her box cutter in a rush of movements. She was so distracted, in fact, that she didn’t even notice the little stuffed frog, the box of chocolates and envelope sitting on the other side of her desk near her mouse. Instead, she unboxed her new tablet and began setting it up, not noticing the gifts until she went to turn on her computer. And then she froze.

With reluctant hands she grabbed the envelope first, her name printed on it in perfect cursive. She knew nobody in the office who had such good penmanship. Opening the card in hopes of finding out who had placed the items on her desk, instead, she just found it signed as ‘secret admirer.’ Rolling her eyes, she set the card down and realized it had to be from her boss. Sometimes he remembered to go around and give everyone little gifts on the holidays. Obviously he’d remembered this year. 

She dug into the chocolates as she set up her tablet and began calibrating it to suit her needs before finally testing it out in the little bit of time she had before she needed to make her way to Harry’s office. 

And once that time came, she left everything in its place, besides the box of chocolates, which she continued to pick at while she made her way through the room. What she didn’t notice while stuffing her face with candy was that… no one else had a stuffed frog or chocolates or a cheesy little card on their desks.

She rounded the corner into Harry’s office, which was a real office and not a cubicle that he usually shared with one other person who was thankfully out with clients for the day. She knocked on the doorframe to get his attention after just watching him focus on his screen for a moment. Harry was cute when he was focused.

But then he turned to her and his eyes fell to the box in her hand.

When he didn’t say anything, she held it out toward him. “Do you want some? I think Andrew was feeling generous this year.”

Harry’s eyes quickly panned up to hers and his brows furrowed as if she’d just punched him in the gut. And she couldn’t make out what that expression meant no matter how hard she tried. 

“He didn’t give me anything.” Harry motioned around his desk.

“Maybe he doesn’t like you.” She shrugged, setting the chocolates down on his desk while she grabbed his office mate’s chair and pulled it up beside him.

Harry sighed, turning to his computer for a moment and then watching her from his peripheral while she picked out another piece of chocolate. “I didn’t see anyone else with chocolates on their desks this morning.”

Y/N just shrugged. “There was a frog too. And a card.”

“And why do you think he’d give you all of that and no one else?” Harry hoped she’d get the hint but he didn’t hope too hard. She was still Y/N after all. And he really didn’t mean to sound so bitter… well, okay, he did. But he knew she’d misplace his bitterness, crushing what little hope there was to bits.

“Maybe he likes me better than all the rest of you.”

Harry scoffed, shaking his head as he put his attention back on his screen. 

“No one else in this office would give me a card signed as a secret admirer so… maybe I did something I don’t remember doing and he’s thanking me?” Now that she really thought about it, and if Harry was right… then it really didn’t make  much sense. It’s not like she was Andrew’s favorite employee.

Harry just lifted a brow and then pretended to lose all interest. 

Sensing the tension, she slipped the box closer to him. “Here. I think you need a knock-off Snickers if you expect me to work with your grumpy ass.” He made no move to indulge her, however. And so she went on, continuing to poke the bear. “Why are you in a lousy mood anyway? Isn’t this your favorite holiday? And you get to leave early.”

His eyes fell from his screen and he stared at the brick of sticky notes below his monitor before mumbling, “I’m sorry about what I said yesterday.”

Taken aback, she searched what she could see of his face for answers to what he was apologizing for. He’d said a few things she could imagine deserved an apology and yet, so did she. Maybe she should have been the one to apologize to him first.

“I didn’t mean to say what I did.” He finally turned to meet her face on. He’d hoped the frog and the chocolates would have been atonement enough, but considering she thought they were from their boss and not him, he just had to suck it up and actually say what he meant.

She shrugged. “It’s fine. I can be a prude sometimes.”

He searched her eyes for a moment and then shook his head, “No that’s not… I meant what I said earlier in your office… about lowering my standards. It was a stupid thing to say and not true in the slightest.”

But then she smiled and he grew confused. “Yes it is. It’s okay to have standards, you know.”

“I know that. But if we… I wouldn’t have to lower my standards. And it was cruel of me to have said that to you.”

She couldn’t stand looking at him any longer and averted her gaze, clearing her throat. “Well it doesn’t matter so… can we just get this proposal done?”

He’d wanted to spend how ever long it took to convince her that it did, in fact, matter, but Y/N was persistent, more so than him, and so he’d given in and they moved on to being productive with their time. And in less time than he’d anticipated their proposal was finished, being sent off to Andrew for approval before their presentation at the end of the week with their clients.

Harry sat back in his chair and she returned her own to the other desk where it belonged, all while he watched her. 

“What do you do on Valentine’s Day?” He asked, just trying to get her to stay longer, knowing that if those were his true intentions, then he was fucked. That he wanted to be around Y/N, even though he was seeing someone else, albeit for just a week so far, even though she’d never want the same from him. 

Maybe he was just as terrible with relationships as she claimed if he always chased after what he couldn’t have.

“That is also none of your business.” She grabbed her box of chocolates from his desk, his voice pinning her in place again though.

“Let me guess… it involves chocolate, your cat, and the most anti-romantic movies you can find?”

He would not think her very prudish if he knew what else she did on Valentine’s Day while alone in her apartment, but she figured it was best to keep that to herself. Instead, she smiled at him. “Something like that.”

He narrowed his eyes and threw his arms up behind his head as he laid back in his chair, watching her curiously like he was trying to figure her out. Meanwhile, she was trying to not make it obvious she was staring at his biceps as they just about bulged from underneath the sleeve of his pink button-up. He’d done it on purpose though, so as much as she tried to hide it, he still grinned with satisfaction when she became flustered.

“Well, have fun with that, then.” He nodded, and for a moment while she was lost in his eyes and growing embarrassingly hot, she wondered if he could read her mind. If he knew exactly what not-so-innocent things she did on Valentine’s Day. Then he brought his arms back down to rest his elbows on the edge of his desk, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers and watching as she rolled her eyes, held her chocolates close, and left his office. 

Adam arrived right when he said he would at five-thirty. It had given her plenty of time to change out of her work clothes and into one of the few dresses she owned, to at least seem somewhat convincing that this was a real date. She also fixed her makeup and put on a pinkish-nude lipstick before switching out her bulky purse for a smaller crossbody. 

When she opened the door to him, he most certainly did not disappoint. She almost let herself get lost in the delusion that it was a real date when she saw him dressed to the nines and cleaned up for the first time since she’d known him. And she especially got a little lost in it when he pulled a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back and handed them to her. 

“You didn’t have to—“

“I know.” He gave her a once over when she wasn’t looking. “You didn’t have to do this for me either.”

She quietly accepted the flowers and let him in while she found a vase and filled it with water. He leaned on the counter, watching her as she did so.

“You look… beautiful, by the way.” He blurted out once she had cut and placed the stems into the vase. Her hands froze, though, and when he met her eyes, he knew he’d made a mistake.

“You’re paying me to make your ex-girlfriend jealous. Please don’t flatter me.”

“Sorry.” He muttered, although he was beginning to wonder if the bigger mistake was not taking her out on a proper date that had nothing to do with his ex. 

She sighed and adjusted the strap of her purse. “Let’s go then.”

He went over all the final details on the Uber ride to the restaurant. Things about his ex he thought Y/N should know about. And he made sure she knew, for about the hundredth time, that she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. And she reminded him for an equal amount of times that she never did anything she didn’t want to do. So, settling that, he helped her out of the back of the Uber when they arrived and opened the door to the restraint for her as well. Everything that she’d expect from a normal date, which only left her disappointed when she reminded herself it wasn’t.

She waited quietly, and tried to catch her nerves, while Adam talked to the hostess and gave her his ex’s name for the reservation. The place was packed and anyone who didn’t call ahead surely would not be getting a table tonight. She’d never been out on Valentine’s Day, though, so it was like stepping into a brand new world for her. And as she followed both the hostess and Adam, she paid more attention to all the couples enjoying their meals than anything else.

Except for when he reached back and grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers just before they came to a stop. She blinked her eyes at their hands for just a moment before he gently pulled her around next to him. And whatever way she’d felt about holding Adam’s hand went right out the window when she locked eyes with Harry.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

The last thing she expected to find, while Laura, the gorgeous blonde ex-girlfriend, stood to hug Adam, was Harry fucking Styles. And what a fucking coincidence it was, almost as if this was her karma for feeling the need to constantly help people. 

Adam’s hand slipped from hers but she didn’t even notice it anyway. She and Harry still stared each other down and neither of them moved a muscle either. Well, besides the one in his jaw as it tightened. Then he did move, glancing over at Adam with a blank expression before landing his gaze back on her again. And then his eyes fell to the glass of water in front of him and she felt like she’d been released from chains he’d tied around her wrists.

“This is Y/N,” Adam’s hand went to the small of her back, guiding her forward to meet his ex-girlfriend and Harry’s current… whatever they were. 

Laura held out her hand, her smile a little too forced. “Laura. It’s nice to meet you. Please, sit.” She ushered them to the table as she took her spot beside Harry again. Adam, of course, took the chair opposite Laura, which left Y/N in the one opposite Harry. 

This would be a long, hellish night.

She couldn’t help but wonder what Harry was thinking. That maybe she’d come to crash his date. Or, even worse, that he’d already figured the whole thing out. That Adam was paying her to be here. She really hoped he’d never find out because it was just embarrassing enough to make her want to change her name and move across the country, thousands of miles away from him. Harry finding out that she couldn’t get a real date to save her life… beyond humiliating.

“This is Harry.” Laura motioned to him and he just barely lifted his gaze, nodding at Adam and ignoring Y/N entirely. “You know,” the blonde went on, glancing between Adam and Y/N, “I was a little shocked when you told me you were seeing someone again.”

Adam just shrugged.

“How did you guys meet?” 

Y/N left all the talking to him. Mostly because she was still in shock that she was sitting across from Harry. And she hadn’t even taken the time to properly take him in and realized he’d also changed his clothes since work. Swapping his wardrobe out for a fitted black button-up, that wasn’t buttoned all the way to the top as his shirts normally were. The sleeves were already rolled to his elbows. He’d shaved off the scruff along his jaw as well and fixed his hair so that it was combed back out of his face, although a a couple rebellious strands hung down onto his forehead. He looked… like absolute perfection. And he was being forced to be on a date with the ex-boyfriend of the girl he was seeing and his annoying co-worker. She felt terrible for him.

“Oh, uh, well we live on the same floor.”

Laura nodded, clearly anticipating more. “Is that it?”

Y/N felt Adam tense up beside her and so she took over, easily spinning a lie. “I ran out of milk one night a few weeks ago. He’s the only one who answered the door.”

She noticed a flash of movement in her peripheral and turned to find Harry’s gaze on her again, one eyebrow lifted curiously. He was either wondering how she hid it so well, or trying to figure out what to ask in order to reveal their ploy. He never said anything, though.

“Sorry, um,” Laura’s tone changed as she glanced between Harry and Y/N, both of them looking away when the other girl interrupted. “Do you two know each other?”

Harry grinned, sitting back against his seat and folding his hands in his lap. “Something like that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “We work together.”

“Really?” Although her tone said otherwise, Laura’s face said everything about how she felt upon hearing that bit of information. 

Adam twisted his worrisome gaze to Y/N, but she ignored it. Harry, however, did not.

“Don’t worry, mate. I was under the impression she was celibate up until now.” With that, Y/N kicked him under the table and he sat forward to swallow the groan that very nearly left his lips after she’d jabbed him in the shin with the toe of her heels. “Guess she’s really good at hiding things, though.”

Adam just chuckled nervously and Y/N shot him an apologetic smile, trying to reassure him that this date would still work out despite Harry. 

“What a small world.” Laura laughed, trying to break the tension but dinner hadn’t even started yet. 

Sometime during the main course, Laura excused herself to the bathroom and Y/N almost, in a desperate attempt to flee both Adam and Harry, invited herself along. But she figured it’d be worse to be alone with Laura than with them. Laura might ask questions she wasn’t prepared for. So, she stayed put, as much as it pained her to do so.

“So, Adam, what do you do for a living?” Harry asked suddenly and she wanted to kick him again. Mostly because his tone was that of a jealous teenager and he’d waited until Laura was gone to pester her ex-boyfriend who most certainly did not deserve Harry’s pestering.

“Oh, uh, I’m an artist. I work for an animation studio at the moment but I’m trying to get into freelance.”

Harry’s eyes shot to the suspiciously quiet girl sitting across from him. “So is Y/N.”

Adam turned to look at her, but she just glared at Harry. “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

Harry titled his head as he narrowed his attention in on Adam again. “So you’ve known her for a few weeks and you never asked what she did?”

“Harry.” Y/N warned, trying to kick him under the table again but he dodged out of the way.

“Well… she said she was in graphic design… not art.” She had told him that, during their crash course yesterday while they got to know as much as they could about each other in a span of a couple hours.

“I think it’s the same thing.”

Adam just shrugged. “I guess. I don’t think I could be a designer, though. Most artists make what they think looks good, designers create things to appeal to customers.”

“Just ignore him.” Y/N advised and Harry was the one shooting her daggers and attempting to stomp his foot on top of hers under the table this time.

“You and Laura used to date then? She never told me how you split up.” Harry moved on.

Adam swallowed nervously. “She broke up with me.”

“Why?” Harry pushed and Y/N looked at him like she wanted to kill him, which he ignored.

“I, uh… I had a drug problem for a while. I was not the best person to be around sometimes. But after we broke up, she helped me with rehab and everything.”

“Guess that explains why you’re on such good terms.”

Now Y/N really wanted to do more than just kick him. 

Adam grabbed Y/N’s hand under the table and pulled her straight from her violent thoughts about Harry. And he didn’t lace his fingers between hers, instead, it felt as if he had just been looking for something to ground himself with. And her hand resting on her lap was the closest thing he could find. It didn’t, however, go unnoticed by Harry and his jaw clenched as he stared at the point in the table where, just below, there their hands met almost as if he was trying to set everything on fire.

Laura returned shortly after that. 

As promised, Adam paid the entirety of both his and Y/N’s bill, even though she attempted to snag it from him, seeing as the date had gone to shit and it was all her fault. Well… maybe it was also Harry’s fault a little bit too. But she definitely did nothing to make Laura jealous. Adam, on the other hand, did a great job at making Harry jealous just by existing and being Laura’s ex, whom she was still friends with. 

The four of them stood outside on the curb awaiting their Uber after dinner was over, agreeing upon splitting one car to get to the party instead of taking two. Laura was apparently very cautious about fossil fuel consumption.

Y/N shivered as she stood between Adam and Laura, wishing she’d bright a jacket instead of relying on a long-sleeve dress to keep her warm. Then an arm wrapped around her shoulders and Adam pulled her close, running his hand up and down her arm to form heat. She tensed up, though, forming into an immovable brick. She had no idea the last time she’d been that close to another person, let alone a member of the opposite sex. When he felt her go rigid, he leaned down until his lips were at her ear. “Is this okay?”

She just nodded and tried to relax. Which turned out to be quite easy because Adam was warm and he smelled nice. She, of course, didn’t let her mind wander off too far. He was still in love with his ex. He’d still shove cash into her hand at the end of the night for her troubles and go on with his life.

Adam let go of her when the car pulled up and quickly went to the passenger door to confirm with the driver. Then he opened the back door for the three of them to climb in, Laura going first, then Harry, and, at last, Y/N, while Adam slipped into the front seat beside the driver.

While the car took off, Y/N was shoved into the corner when Harry moved closer to her in order to find both his and Laura’s seat buckles in the dark. Eventually, he settled back into the middle and gave her some space again. When she made no move to do the same as them, Harry turned to look down at her. 

“Put your seatbelt on.” He whispered.

Her eyes whirled up to his. Wordlessly, and of course after rolling her eyes, she grabbed her seatbelt and he made room for her to buckle it in. Then she sat back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest while she stared out at the traffic through her window.

She would have stayed in that exact position the entire trip, too, if Harry’s knee didn’t insist on bumping into hers constantly. And she couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose or not.

When she glanced up at him, and found the corner of his lips curl upward, she figured it was, in fact, purposeful. So, with the hand closest to him as her arms were still crossed, she poked him in the side, right against his ribs, hoping it hurt.

“Ouch.” He whined, covering the spot with his hand dramatically. Everyone in the car glanced at Harry, all except for Y/N who snickered as she returned to staring out the window.

Harry wasn’t giving up, though. This time, with his arms crossed in his lap, and glancing at Laura to be sure she wasn’t watching, he walked his pointer and middle finger up the outside of Y/N’s thigh, close enough to her hip to make her squirm slightly when his touch tickled her. And as soon as he got her attention, he looked down at what he was doing and pressed his middle finger against her, meeting her gaze with a smirk.

In the same moment, the driver turned up the music in the car as they waited tirelessly at a red light. It was better than silence or listening to his passengers breathing. But Harry mentally thanked him and turned his attention back to Y/N, leaning into her slightly until his lips were at her ear and she shivered for an all new reason.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress before.” He whispered for her ears only. The music was especially loud in the back and he wasn’t sure Y/N had even heard him.

Especially since she didn’t respond right away. But how could she? Harry’s fingertips were still grazing her thigh, as if trying to emphasize the dress she had on. And his stupid knee was pressed right up against hers. She couldn’t think straight.

Though when she finally turned to him and whispered back, “Don’t get used to it,” he knew she had, in fact, heard him well enough. 

He leaned again, “Afraid I already am.” 

She hated that there were butterflies in her stomach. That he was saying such odd things to her when his date was sitting just on the other side of him. The date who most definitely met all Harry’s standards.

Huddling away from him, she stuck her eyes out the window and kept them there the rest of the trip.

It was just past eight when they arrived, a fifteen-minute trip up through the city taking half an hour due to all the Valentine’s Day traffic. Another reason she hated this holiday.

The party was being held by Laura’s best friend, who’s name Y/N did not care to commit to memory. In the elevator ride up to the penthouse, though, Harry stood close to Laura, his arm wrapped around her waist and Adam to Y/N, although he didn’t touch her. She wouldn’t have minded if he did, but she figured it was best to keep those boundaries in place anyway.

Pink and golden balloons littered the ceilings of the penthouse. The drink cups were also pink, as was the communal punch bowl that Y/N steered clear of, having no idea what was in it, or who had already spiked it. She knew nobody at the party besides who she’d come with, though she assumed both Adam and Harry were somewhat acquainted with Laura’s friends. 

It was most definitely not someplace Y/N ever saw herself being at, not only because it was a Valentine’s themed party, but also because she wasn’t exactly comfortable around so many people. Especially when those people were all so unfamiliar to her.

“Here,” Adam handed her a drink and then grabbed one for himself. She downed the thing in one go, needing to take the edge off. It might’ve been a slight mistake when the alcohol burned the back of her throat, but she didn’t care too much when she grabbed another.

Then he was leading her into the dancing pit of bodies where they huddled close enough so that his lips were at her ear. “Is it alright if I touch you?”

She glanced over at where Laura and Harry had been left, finding both her hazel eyes and Harry’s green ones glued to the both of them. She wasn’t sure what Harry’s deal was, but this was her moment to fix things and make Laura jealous, so, turning back to Adam, she nodded.

He eased his hands onto her waist as they began swaying to the music. And then he pulled her closer, his hands slipping to the small of her back as her arms wrapped around his neck, being careful with her own movements even though she desperately wanted to sink her hands in his hair.

And, god, he smelled so good as her head rested in the crook of his neck. And he felt good, too, as he moved against her body. She knew it wasn’t real, and that the alcohol was making skewing her perception of things, but it was still nice. Nice to be held and to just let go for a change.

Over Adam’s shoulder, Y/N caught Harry’s eyes again. His jaw clenched and he looked the same as he did back at the restaurant. Angry. And then she realized that maybe she wasn’t really trying to make Laura jealous anymore at all, but rather Harry.

It was dumb, she knew that. He’d have to like her in order for her to make him jealous. But… the way he was looking at her. The way he had looked at her. His eyes lingering too long on her lips. What he’d done in the car ride here. 

She heard Adam in her ear again. “I think it’s working. She just stormed off into the kitchen.” Then he pulled away and she realized she hadn’t even seen Laura. Just Harry. Harry and his stupid, obnoxious green eyes.

“You owe me more than just dinner.” Y/N teased but Adam grew serious.

“I know. And since you refuse to accept my money, I’ll have to figure out another way to repay you.” He smiled and then twirled her around so that she no longer had any line of sight toward Harry. He pulled her close again, one hand going to her waist while the other stayed locked to one of hers. “Suppose I could start with making your coworker just as jealous… although I think he already is.”

Confusion flooded her features as she peered up at him. 

“Oh, come on! He was ready to rip my head off when he realized I’d grabbed your hand. And when I put my arm around you? I thought I might be better off just giving you my jacket and freezing to death instead.”

“I don’t…” she shook her head in disbelief. It was one thing for her to be pretending to make Harry jealous in some delusional hope that it’d work. But this… this was a whole other thing.

“I’m actually quite interested to see what he does if I kissed you.”

She was shocked at first and then, possibly due to the alcohol, just as interested. “Are you asking my permission?”

“Are you saying yes?”

Y/N hesitated. “Is she back?”

Adam’s eyes scanned the room and Y/N realized he hadn’t asked to kiss her for Laura’s sake at all.

“She is.” He finally announced. 

Without any more second guessing, Y/N’s hand slipped to the back of his neck and pulled him in. As soon as their lips collided and she tasted the alcohol on him, she knew that she’d never agreed to this without it. Or maybe she would. Adam spun them back around again, deepening the kiss as her eyes opened and fell into the direction she’d last seen Harry.

He was still there.

Still watching.

His hands in fists. His jaw tightened into a crisp line. His nostrils flared. His eyes… sad.

She pulled away. Adam steadied her, grabbing her shoulders when she swayed. But, as she caught her breath, the dizziness went away. 

“I’m going to find the bathroom.” She told him and after he nodded, she left, forming a rift for herself through the bodies that danced all around them until she was in the clear. Then she was avoiding Harry as she walked past him, not so sure his gaze was still set on her. Maybe she’d gone too far. She didn’t often just kiss people for no good reason and that’s exactly what she’d just done with Adam. She barely even knew him.

She didn’t exactly need the bathroom, just an open, empty and quiet place. And so, she fell back against a wall in the foyer and ran a hand through her hair.

“That was quite the show.”

She startled at the sound of his familiar voice and looked up just as he stopped a few feet away from her. “What are you talking about?”

He lifted a brow. “You expect me to believe that that you, anti everything to do with this holiday and with relationships and romance, are actually dating that guy?”

“Is it that hard to believe?” She crossed her arms, willing to go as far as she needed to before she let Harry see the truth. That she was that pathetic. 

“Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate to respond and she flinched.

“Well, I’m sorry that you have a hard time believing that someone may actually like me.” She had no reason to nearly be shouting at him and no reason to be saying what she was because Adam didn’t like her.

“That’s not what I said. It’s hard for me to believe you just dropped all your ideas about relationships for some guy with obnoxious blue eyes.”

“I didn’t.”

“So then what is this?”

Y/N hesitated. Hating that the truth was about to boil over out of her mouth for him to see all the embarrassing bits of it, but she had no other way of convincing him. And it didn’t really help that Adam was so far out of her league that it wasn’t even convincing to begin with. Nor did she want to convince Harry of anything either. It was clear now that he hadn’t been jealous, he was just trying to figure out when she stopped hating relationships so much.

And the truth of that was she never really hated them. It was just easier telling herself she didn’t want it than admitting no one ever actually wanted her.

She trembled, not even sure why, but he was making her incredibly nervous, so much that she wished she could rewind and stay squished next to him in the back of the car forever. Being that close to him... his stupid fingers on her thigh, whispering things in her ear that made her head spin. She’d much prefer that than standing in front of him now, seeing every ounce of judgment he was about to throw her way.

“What do you want me to say, Harry?” She shrugged and dropped her eyes to the white marble floors between them, focusing on calming her anxiety while she was no longer looking at him. “He needed a date and I felt bad for him.”

“What does that mean?”

Letting her head fall back against the wall, she stared up at the ceiling this time as her eyes burned with embarrassment. “He paid me to be his date so his ex-girlfriend didn’t find out he wasn’t actually seeing anyone. That’s what it means.”

Harry didn’t say anything.

“So, yeah.” She folded her arms, looking down at the floor again, still unable to meet Harry’s eyes and see the look that would be on his face. A smirk of amusement at her expense. Even probably his dimples, taunting her and turning her into the joke she already was. “You were right. I can’t find anyone to tolerate me, which is why I’m on this stupid date that isn’t even real.”

“Him kissing you seemed quite real to me.”

There was more exasperation than humor to her laugh. “It wasn’t.”

Harry seemed to finally understand. “He’s trying to make Laura jealous.”

Y/N just nodded. “I promise I didn’t know you were going to be there, that he was trying to get her back from you.”

“You still kissed him though.”

She couldn’t argue that, nor could she tell him the real reason she’d agreed to the kiss. That it wasn’t exactly Laura she was trying to make jealous. She’d never live that one down, if she ever managed to live any other aspect of this night down.

When she didn’t say anything, he stepped closer. “Why did you kiss him?”

“I’m sorry, Harry I just... I don’t know.”

He shook his head and took another step, making her eyes widen when he was close enough that she had to crane her head back to meet his gaze. “Seemed like you were trying to make me jealous.”

She swallowed, not exactly in the position to laugh it off and argue with him when he was this close and all she could feel were the traces of his fingertips on her thigh. Her voice was quiet when it finally came out. “Making you jealous would mean I assumed you liked me in the first place... which I’m definitely not stupid enough to assume.”

A crease formed between his brow and his stupidly perfect jaw hardened as if he was biting his tongue from saying something. And fuck him for choosing then to finally stop opening his mouth.

Just then, a pair of drunk guys, one on the other’s back, came racing through the foyer, screaming at the top of their lungs while a few others followed quickly after them. It was enough to force Harry away from Y/N again, enough for the both of them to step out of the little bubble they’d been in together the past ten minutes.

Once they were alone again, their eyes gravitated toward each other and just when she thought Harry might say something after all, he flipped around on his heel and left. And she watched as he turned the corner and mixed back into the party.

After a few moments to gather herself, she followed him, not exactly sure what she was going to do now that Harry wouldn’t talk to her and it felt weird being with Adam while Harry knew everything. But, whatever plans to keep herself occupied no longer matted when she spotted Laura.

Making out with Adam in the middle of the room. 

Without even thinking, she turned to locate Harry and he might as well have been a source of gravity because her eyes fell right to him within a second. And he was watching them too. He knew. 

He met Y/N’s eyes and she wasn’t quite sure if he was upset or not. She couldn’t really read anything on his face, and stopped attempting to when he moved towards her and she had other things on her mind, like where he was going and if he was going to bother taking her with him.

Shortly after he stormed past Y/N she made sure he wasn’t going to leave her behind and chased after him. She didn’t know Adam very well and definitely not Laura to want to stay with them. And everyone else in the room were complete strangers to her. Adam had promised he’d take her home, but he probably hadn’t expected to be making out with his ex by the end of the night, either.

Harry didn’t say anything, not even when they’d reached the foyer and Y/N asked where he was going. He just located his jacket and slipped it on before making his way out the front door.

And right when she thought he really was going to leave her behind, since she was the reason he’d just lost Laura to her ex, he held the door open and glanced over his shoulder at her while she still stood on the other side of the threshold.

“Are you staying?”

Without a word, she sprung into motion and trailed right behind him into the hallway like a lost puppy, letting the door shut behind her that cut them off from the music as it faded into the background behind them.

It was a silent trip down the elevator, mostly because she had no idea what to say that would sound sincere and he didn’t say anything at all. At least not until she followed him through the lobby until he stopped on the curb just outside the main doors.

She took up the spot next to him, eyes glued to the side of his face as he took in a deep breath of fresh air, or at least as fresh as traffic allowed it to be.

Then he spoke, and it seemed like the first time she’d heard his voice all night. “I’m the one who gave you the chocolates and the frog.”

She narrowed her eyes, both not exactly sure why he’d just said that or if he was even being serious. “What?”

He looked down at her. “It wasn’t Andrew, it was me.”

“Why?” She breathed and while she was positive she’d be freezing cold soon, the fresh air after being surrounded by so many people felt good. It felt freeing and she wondered if he felt that way too.

His eyes scanned hers before he looked away. “Well partly to apologize for what I said.”

“What’s the other part?”

Sighing, he turned his entire body to face her now. “Something else entirely…” He trailed off, only confusing her more as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared at his feet. “I didn’t tell you because I know you don’t like all this stuff, but seeing you with him tonight... I wish I had.” 

“It’s not that big of a deal. It’s just a frog.”

He shook his head, grinning. “It’s not just a frog, Y/N... because the thing is,” he paused to catch his breath, “I’ve been in love with you for... a really long time… since last spring. But with you being the way that you are, I never thought you’d feel the same way.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it.

“And then you come in with that guy and...” He pulled his fingers through his hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more jealous in my life... because all this time I thought you weren’t interested in relationships, but you just weren’t interested in me.”

Inhaling, she summoned every ounce of courage she could fathom. “You were right about why I kissed Adam.” He lifted a brow, waiting for her elaboration which never came. “You were right about other things, too. I wish I had someone to come home to almost every single night I got to bed alone. No one—“ She cut herself off, trembling again as tears stung her eyes. “I pretend not to be interested so I can ignore the fact that no one’s ever wanted me.”

“That’s not true.” He had that same look on his face as before, when she’d told him she wasn’t stupid enough to think he liked her.

She just nodded. “And I’m sorry but... why would you want me when you could have someone like Laura?”

“Y/N...” He huffed and stepped closer to her, the heat from his body making her shiver. “This is not the first time I started seeing someone to get over you... in fact, all my relationships since I met you have been shit.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Well you’re very anti-relationships so I think I was justified in wanting to avoid you rejecting me… especially since we work together and it would have been really awkward.”

“I don’t, uh... I...” She stammered, not really sure what to say to him even though her heart was screaming at her in full volume. 

He held his breath and then, in almost a whisper, “Is this the inevitable rejection?”

“No.” She didn’t even hesitate that time and at this point, her mind no longer controlled the words coming out of her mouth as she let another organ finally speak for itself. “No, I liked you the second I saw you, Harry... and at no point tonight was I ever trying to make Laura jealous.”

The corners of his mouth began to curl into a smile. “That was very cruel of you to do to me.”

“I didn’t think you liked me at all twenty minutes ago, Harry.”

“Twenty minutes ago,” he fully invaded all of her space now, leaving the smallest gap between their bodies as he could get away with, lifting his hand to her jaw and rubbing his thumb over her cheek. “I was still on this date with the wrong person.” 

“I think the date is over now.”

“No,” his eyes fell to her lips just like they had before. “It’s not.” 

“You’re looking at me like that again.” She mumbled, out of breath.

He lifted a brow and didn’t once remove his eyes from her lips. “Like what?”

“Like…” she trailed off, not having the courage to say it in case she wasn’t right. 

“Like I’ve wanted to kiss you for a very long time and I’m tired of pretending?” 

“Something like that, yeah.”

He grinned, both of his dimples making an appearance just before he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. And once her brain realized what was happening, she sunk right into him, letting his arm wrap around her waist as his other hand tangled its way into her hair to bring her closer. She threw her arms over his shoulders and he hunched lower to meet her. She staggered back a step when he did, nearly losing her balance but he caught her instantly and then drew his lips back as he laughed.

“This is not how I expected tonight to end.” She couldn’t help but think the way he struggled to catch his breath was possibly the hottest he’d ever been. Not to mention the tiny bit of her lipstick smeared on his face. She could look at him just the way he was right there and then for days and be perfectly satisfied.

“It doesn’t have to end yet.” She fully blamed her sudden burst of confidence on the cold, but refreshing February night. And maybe she also just wanted to get out of it before it caught up to her and she would, yet again, regret not having a jacket.

“Oh?” She wanted to smack the mischievous smirk off his face and leave him there on the curb. “And here I thought you were a prude.”

“You thought a lot of things about me that weren’t true, Harry.”

He thought about that for a moment and after realizing she was right, he then wondered just how wrong he was when he’d called her celibate. “I suppose… I’d quite like to find out just how wrong I was.” He slipped a loose strand of her hair back behind her ear, which is where his lips ended up as he whispered softly, “And I’d also quite like to show you just how wrong you were about me not liking you.”

They stumbled into her bedroom in the dark, Pretzel racing out between their twisted feet in a hurry, screeching at them in the process. Harry giggled against her lips, “Your cat sounds friendly.” 

“Well, since I was supposed to be spending tonight with her, and chocolate, and anti-romantic movies…” She pulled away from him, watching as his smile spread further. Maybe she could actually believe he’d been in love all this time. 

“Right… I’d be upset too.” 

She shook her head and kissed him again, then pulled back a second later. “You know that’s not actually what I do on Valentine’s Day.”

He lifted a brow and waited for her to explain but she didn’t.

“And what is it that you do, then?” He finally asked, curiosity getting the best of him, although he had some inkling as to what she was talking about.

Her smile was devoid of innocence as her hands fell to his belt. Harry’s shirt had already been lost to the kitchen floor. Her dress hardly covering what it was supposed to once Harry had gotten his hands on it. 

“Maybe you’ll get to find out.” 

When she brought her lips back to his, after undoing the buckle just under his navel, he spun them around and led her backwards to the bed. He wasn’t sure how far it was, but hoped he was headed in the right direction. And because of that, when her knees did finally bend over the mattress, he practically came flying down on top of her. 

She squirmed out from under him, crawling back towards the pillows as she watched him at the end of the bed while he stood and removed his belt completely, trying not to drool at the sight of him. At the sight of Harry, her fucking annoying ass, perfect, beautiful, coworker standing shirtless at the end of her bed where he was also about to be…

He pushed his trousers down off his hips and they fell to the floor with ease, almost with the same amount of ease that her eyes fell to the tight boxer-briefs he wore underneath. She swallowed as he adjusted the waistband back into place, quite certain that, even in the low light, her eyes were not deceiving her.

The bed shifted at her feet as he joined her, and then it took all her willpower to not fling herself at him as he crawled up the length of her. As he settled himself between her thighs and she felt every last, very hard, inch of him pressed against her. She couldn’t be blamed for the whining moan that she let out in his ear as his lips became familiar with the shape and taste of her neck. She also couldn’t be blamed when her hips instinctively collided with his.

He just giggled again and shook his head, the loose strands of his curls tickling her forehead. “Easy now.” He warned in a hushed mumble, his lips vibrating right against the vein in her neck that pulsed so much faster the more his free hand began to wander up underneath her dress.

He left her speechless for multiple reasons, but the main one was when she felt his fingers tracing down her thigh and then, moments later, after he shifted his weight and used his knees to keep her legs open, she sucked in a breath of air as she felt him pressed against her clit, forcing her nails to dig into his back but he didn’t seem to mind.

Coming back down to kiss her, he began moving his hand in expert little circles, grinning against her mouth every time her body begged him for more. It wasn’t long that he complied, either, when he sat back on his knees between her legs and tugged her underwear off for good, throwing it to the depths of her bedroom floor. He wouldn’t have known where they landed even if he tried because his gaze belong to her only as he lowered himself to his elbows before her, kissing his way up her thighs until he reached her center.

When she squirmed away from him, he wrapped his arms around her thighs and pressed his hands into her hips after gently moving her dress out of the way. 

“You know when we used to stay late at the office working?” He asked suddenly and the heat of his voice against her made her squirm again, but he held on tight. “And you would get sick of sitting in an office chair and made me promise not to tell Jim when you sat on his desk instead?” She had no clue where he was going with it, but still, she nodded. “Every single time I turned to look at you, I thought about doing this.” Before she could get words out or even a coherent thought, she felt his tongue on her. And this time when she jerked against him, she nearly slipped out of his hold until he grabbed her again and pulled her back down, digging himself further into her as she struggled to breathe properly.

She dug her fingers into his hair when he brought her close to the edge and showed no mercy. And somehow, she’d managed to get the sole of her foot up onto his shoulder in order to kick him away, but it didn’t matter much because he never budged. Not that she wanted him to, but he just felt so good… 

“Harry!” She shouted, pulling at his hair and making matters worse for herself when he moaned against her sensitive bundle of nerves. He let her come, never once lifting his mouth from her even as her hips jerked off the mattress and she very nearly pulled his hair out. When she stopped screaming, her voice caught in her throat because she was lost to her own orgasm, is when he lifted his mouth, replaced it with his fingers and watched her as she came down. As her eyes fluttered shut and her chest heaved, her lungs struggling to get oxygen back into her system. Her hold on him loosened as she came undone around him, melting into his hands it seemed like.

And when he began rubbing his index and middle finger into her, once she was far and beyond overstimulated, and he knew that, she reached down with a whine and grabbed his wrist with what little strength she had in her and pulled him away. His hand fell to the other side of her hip, which he used to his advantage to pull himself up over her again, his other hand taking her dress with it until he was able to tug it over her head and toss it. Then he came back down to kiss her, letting her taste herself on her lips. He rubbed his thumb across her cheek and when he pulled away, found her looking at him finally. Although it was with heavy lids as she still struggled to regain her bearings.

Before they could get much further, a loud crashing sound from the other room made both of them nearly jump out of their skin. She shot up instantly, grabbing hold of Harry’s bicep before moving him out of the way and sliding off the edge of the bed. 

“It’s just the cat.” Harry would have probably said the same thing even if it was not just the cat, he’d say anything just to get her to stay with him.

“I know but it sounded like…” her voice trailed off as her feet hit the floor and the moment she went to stand on her own two legs, her knees buckled. He reached to grab her waist but she righted herself before he could. She didn’t see the way he hid his cheeky smirk at the fact that he’d been so good, she was still dizzy.

“You good?” He asked as she stumbled her way into a shirt. With only a groan in response, and what he was sure was her middle finger, she left him alone in her bed to investigate the noise. Sighing, he laid on his back and got comfortable amongst her pillows. And after about three minutes, decided to locate the remote to her TV to entertain himself. 

He flipped onto his side and felt around her bedside table, but his fingers never landed on anything remote-like. So, frustrated, he reached up and switched the lamp on. Again, he found nothing. Looking further, he realized the table had a drawer and so he pulled it open in hopes of finding the damned remote before she got back. 

But what he found instead was so much better than turning on late night news.

“Fucking cat knocked over my vase.” Y/N was back within ten minutes. Harry had left the light on, but made sure it wasn’t obvious he’d gone snooping into her drawer, at least not yet anyway. She crawled back into bed beside him and it was then he noticed the bandage on her thumb.

“Are you alright?” He forgot all about what he planned to tease her with when he gently grabbed her hand to inspect the damage.

“Yeah. I was in a bit of hurry trying to clean up the glass…” 

Harry rolled his eyes and dropped her hand. “I would have come help you.”

She just smiled up at him as he fit his arm around her shoulders, his bicep under her neck. “That’s alright.”

He shrugged. “It was for the best anyways that I didn’t.” When he smirked, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

“And why’s that?”

She followed his other hand as he reached for something and then, moments later, it reappeared with a very familiar pink object clutched in his grasp. “Because then I wouldn’t have found this.”

Her first reaction was to pry it from his snooping fingers, but when she reached across him to grab it, he way too easily held her back and, at the same time, held it far out of her reach. 

“So this is what you do on Valentine’s Day, then?” He flicked his wrist back and forth, waving her vibrator in the air as he taunted her.

“If you don’t give that back to me,” she reached for it again to no prevail, “you won’t be doing anything, least of all, me.”

He clicked his tongue. “Why would I give it back when I plan on using it?”

She froze and he chuckled at her reaction.

“Would be rude of me to break your traditions, wouldn’t it?” 

She swallowed, her eyes slowly meeting his again. The appearance of his right dimple told her he wasn’t playing any games. She had no idea how many times he planned to make her come tonight or whether or not she’d even be able to walk tomorrow at work. But, given the stupid look on his face, she almost began making plans to call out sick instead.

“Do you actually know how to use that thing?” She finally asked, glancing at the wand still held very firmly in his hand.

He looked at her like she was crazy moments before he pivoted and pinned her onto her back, settling himself into the position they’d been in before the interruption of the cat. 

Just, this time… he was clicking on her vibrator and watching her face as she began to regret her words. 

“‘Course I know how to use it. The real question is,” he brought his lips to her ear, the soft vibrations and the sound of his voice mixing together like sin itself. Even more so when he nipped at her earlobe. “Do you know how to handle it?”

[mrs-hatake]

Blue Lights Shiganshina

pairing: mafia!eren x f!reader

genre: mafia au, obsession, mentions of stalking.

a/n: a rewrite of my Detective Conan fic that can be found here

The scent of lavender and citrus coming from the lit candles on the windowsill surrounded Y/N like a cloud drifting across a clear blue sky.

She softly hums a song under her breath, body swaying to the melody that’s playing in her head, as she finishes applying the final touches of her makeup. She smiles at her reflection in the mirror, satisfied with her appearance as she winks at the mirrored image of herself and blows a little kiss. She then sprays Chanel No. 5—her favorite perfume, on the insides of her wrists, behind her ears and along the sides of her neck.

As Y/N waits for the perfume to dry on her moisturized and smooth skin, she fumbles through her jewelry box in search of the perfect accessories that would match her cute outfit. She pulls out a pair of pink pearl earrings and a necklace that has a thin, almost transparent lace around the rope with a single pink circle in the middle that falls right atop the curve of her breasts.

Y/N glances at the mirror one last time, to make sure that she looked absolutely ravishing. When she is satisfied that her white sweetheart dress is wrinkle free, her hair is styled in the most elegant waves, with her shoes shining beautifully, she picks up her white capelet made out of muslin fabric and satin paspul.

Sweeping her hand down her attire, Y/N’s eyes land on the wall clock, quickly heading down to wait in front of her apartment building for her date of the night. And just as promised, a black Porsche 356 A pulls up at exactly seven p.m., not a second late. Even though the windows are tinted and Y/N can’t see the driver’s face, she still smiles brightly, hurries to the car and opens the door to get in and away from the chilly wind.

“You came.” Is how Y/N greets her date for the night. She sounds breathless, and, if you listen closely—surprised, that her date kept his promise. The man had been busy the past few weeks and informed her that he couldn’t make it to their monthly dates. This caused Y/N to whine and pout, ignoring his calls even, until he grew annoyed and promised to try and show up.

Y/N doesn’t know what kind of job her date has, all that she knows is that he was always busy and that he was ridiculously rich. It is bothersome that Y/N is only able to meet him at specific times, and that she wasn’t allowed to tell anyone that they were dating, but she was falling hard and deep for the man, so naive little Y/N agreed to his conditions. Even though all the warning signs and flags blared in her head and her guts kept screaming at her that the man was bad.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” The man spoke in a husky and quiet tone of voice, as if he had been taught his whole life that speaking loudly was inappropriate. There’s a small smile tugging on the corners of his thin lips and a spark of mischief burning in those green eyes of his.

Y/N returns his smirk with a sweet smile of her own, red lips stretched just enough to make sure to flash a bit of her teeth. She bats her eyelashes at him, making sure she looks doe-eyed and innocent, “I’m glad you did.”

The man with long locks of dark brown chuckles breathlessly as he slams his foot on the gas and dashes through the streets, Y/N’s melodic laugh chasing after him like a cop car chasing after its culprit.

The two have dinner at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant. It may have looked ordinary on the outside, but was actually a high-end restaurant on a mission to obtain its first Michelin star. The meals cost more than Y/N’s dress for the night and her rent combined—but that's not the sole reason she selects an entrée which is on the cheaper side, no. She intentionally chooses the cheaper one in order to appear humble and modest, to show that she isn’t chasing after the man and his money.

Y/N does most of the talking during their little dinner date. With the man dressed in black appearing to listen attentively, nodding his head at appropriate moments and throwing in a comment or two when he sees fit.

The dim lights of the restaurant, the vintage red wine that’s older than her great grandfather, and having an attractive man sitting in front of you creates a delicious buzz. Soon, Y/N feels lightheaded, like a piece of paper gliding in the wind.

After dinner, the two walk side by side along the pier. It’s late, yet there are still a handful of people scattered all around. Any respectable lady wouldn’t be at such a place during such late hours, but Y/N did not care about such trivial things. She was in the company of a man she greatly fancied and she was going to take every opportunity to steal him away from his busy schedule. If standing at a dimly-lit part of the pier in the middle of the night with shady looking people surrounding them was the price, then she would pay it without hesitation.

Y/N shivers as a gust of wind blows by, her hair flowing after it. She wraps her dainty arms around her frame in a poor attempt to keep herself warm as she continues walking, her heels clicking behind her.

She hears the man click his tongue before something warm and heavy drapes across her small frame. Looking down, she sees that the man has opened his coat and stood in a position which allowed for her to be in his arms and wrapped in his coat at the same time.

This is a trick that Y/N has perfected performing. She would wear something revealing for their date and throw a piece of cloth on top of it that does nothing to protect her from the biting wind of Japan’s winter. The man would grumble a sound of annoyance, much like he just did, but still wrap his coat around her to keep her warm. In a dark place where there aren’t many people around, it is the only time where he would initiate physical contact with her in public. He pretends to hate it, but Y/N knows for a fact that he enjoys it by the way he tightens his hold around her in a possessive grip.

There’s a slight sway in their steps because of the position they’re in, resembling a steam boat calmly sailing across the sea. The lights from the city across the bay outshine the stars above, and the scent of the man’s favorite red Marlboro cigarettes intoxicates her so much that she gets a headache. But Y/N doesn’t mind, snuggling closer into his warmth and inhaling his addicting aroma without a care in the world.

They stop at the edge of the pier where no one is around, Y/N leaning her back against the railing, and the man standing in between her legs, his tall frame towering and intimidating. She tilts her head back, a stray lock framing her face, pressing her modest bosoms against his broad chest and desperately gripping at the front of his dress shirt. Her lips pout adorably as she whispers, “Kiss me.” Her request is urgent, similar to a sinner begging his priest for forgiveness.

And the man in black happily obliges.

He kisses her full of fire, tilting his head to the side in order to get a better angle. Y/N gasps softly when she feels his thumbs caressing the curve of her breasts, the man fully taking advantage to shove his tongue all the way down her throat.

He swallows her cute little whimpers, a wicked smirk breaking through at the surge of power bubbling inside himself. His grip tightens as he does these little tricks with his mouth that have Y/N moaning like a whore.

Poor little Y/N’s bones melt into absolute putty, about to collapse if not for the man’s strong arms holding her up. She hangs onto him for dear life, doing her best to wrap her arms around his large frame, her hands clutching at the back of his dress shirt like a kitten using its claws.

When they pull apart, there’s a small thread of saliva connecting their lips together. The man’s eyes are cloudy, caught in a trance when her little tongue swipes across her lips and swallows his spit. Without warning, he dives in and hungrily forces his lips into the hollow of her neck, abusing her smooth skin to his delight.

“Eren.” Y/N sighs in bliss, fingers buried in his silky hair, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

Yes, yes, yes .

This is exactly where she wanted him.

The skimpy dresses, the makeup done to perfection, her beautiful hair, all of those were unthinkable.

She had seen Eren almost two years ago when she was exiting a farmer’s market downtown, and his mysterious aura had attracted her like pretty flowers would a hungry bee. She just knew she had to have him.

After that, she studied him; followed him around and learned his schedule to a tee. She made sure to bump into him whenever they’d be in the same place, and was persistent with small talk even when he didn't respond.

Whether Eren knows about her obsession or not, he continues to entertain her and perform spectacularly in response to her well-rehearsed play. The reason, however, is unknown.

It is a dangerous performance that Y/N is starring in. Let’s hope that our little girl won't get killed during her act.

[hanazuma-inactive]

defrost (nsfw) kaeya x top!male reader

pronouns: he/him

warnings: ice play!! slight degradation, orgasm denial/ edging, top male reader, bottom kaeya

a/n: this was edited by @kamihara, she really outdone herself in this one, professional kaeya simp lol

_____

“to think such an honourable knight such as you, the cavalry captain of mondstat, is now begging to cum. how shameful of you,” you let out a low chuckle as a provocative smile broke out on your lips, “i wonder what citizens would say if they saw their beloved and oh so admirable kaeya in this position?”

as a captain of the ordo favonius, you were a bright figure to the people of mondstat. a person who aided in saving the city from destruction, one of the heroes that defeated storm terror. of course, other knights had nothing but respect for you as your skill and talent was nothing short of impressive. many looked at you with a high regard due to your strength and position, this meant that many were intimidated by your presence and therefore fear approaching you.

however, there was one person who disregarded this and stuck by you anyways, kaeya alberich, the cavalry captain. out of everyone in the knights of favonius, you were the closest with kaeya. you enjoyed his company a lot, he was an interesting person who knew how to keep a conversation going, and while you're with him you could never find yourself feeling bored. he was as charming as he was cunning.

kaeya found himself enjoying your company too. the two of you have done lots of things together. going on missions, getting away with “knighty” duty, babysitting klee, and drinking at angels share. you know, all the fun things in life.

kaeya was a secretive person, and while you were curious about him, you respected his boundaries. perhaps this was the reason why he drew you in, besides his blaringly good looks of course.

there was no doubt that the man was attractive from head to toe. his silky navy blue hair fell down his shoulder with grace, his fringe complemented his smooth, flawless sepia toned face. his periwinkle eye held the sheen of a crystal, glistening as his long eyelashes framed it with poise. the diamond shaped pupils his eyes possessed could leave you in a trance forever. his open white shirt left his cleavage on display, contrasted with the black corset around his slim, slim waist. his slender legs brought him around with confidence and charisma.additionally, the intricate accessories he wore suited his personality well. all in all, kaeya was a pretty little thing.

all of this lead up to you harbouring romantic feelings for the cavalry caption. how could you not feel anything? he was perfect in every way.

the sound of kaeya’s voice snapped you out of your thinking. “y/n, any missions today?”

“nothing for you i don’t think, i gotta help jean with the paperworks though.” you sighed at the thought of a mountain of paperwork.

“great, well i’m off then you have fun doing whatever.” kaeya smirked at you, poking fun at your dread.

he started to turn around and walk off but you had other plans.

“wait. kaeya-” you speak quickly.

“hm?” he hummed out.

“angels share? 9pm?”

a quizzical look washed over his face before he masked it with one of his cunning smiles.

“alright.”

little did kaeya know you had more in mind than just drinking with him tonight. today would be the day when you finally told him about your little crush on him.

night quickly arrived after a day of working with jean. you were pretty exhausted but still excited about what's about to happen later tonight. when you entered the bar, Kaeya was already waiting for you at the counter talking with the bartender, charles.

“ah, i see mr.l/n is here too. Your usual today as well sir?”

“yah that’d be nice, thanks charles.” you said as you took a seat next to kaeya

“you got it.” charles said as he left to go get your drink.

angel's share was the place you and kaeya loved the most. the kind of noisy background with people chatting. cyrus and jack talking about their gains for today, six-fingered jose still playing his lyre, the song was getting a little old but you didn’t mind, in fact if he changed the song you probably wouldn’t be used to it.

“so, what’s the special occasion for today? you usually don’t invite me to drink on weekdays.” kaeya said while swirling his drink and glancing over at you.

kaeya’s eyes always amazed you. you didn’t know the name of the grey-ish color but you could gaze into them forever. his smooth skin glowed under the dim lighting in the bar. you loved everything about the man, his dark blue hair, his perfectly shaped body, and the fact that you could see a little bit of his clothing. what kaeya said on the first day when you guys met was true, you did feel something for him.

“hm? can i not invite fellow knights to share a drink once in while without a special occasion.”

“well, not wrong there but…you seem like you have ulterior motives for tonight from the way you’re dressing.” kaeya said, smirking at you.

it was true, you purposely chose one of your best outfits today for kaeya, you wanted to impress the man not only from your combat skills, but also your looks. there was no secret you could hide from kaeya. he knew you too well and he always looked right through you. it could have just been kaeya’s observant nature but you like to hope it was something more than that.

“you’re right there, you really do know me too well, maybe i need to start hiding things from you a little huh?”

“you can try but i highly doubt it’ll work in your favour, mr.honorary knight.”

both of you looked at each other with a slight smirk as charles arrived with your drink. after drinking for a good while you could tell kaeya was getting a little tipsy. his movements were unstable, he shaked a little while walking and his eyes started to become hazy. what better time than right now to reveal your true plans for tonight, you were gonna fuck the shit out of the beautiful man. you wanted to hear him scream your name in pleasure as you break him, over and over again.

“why don’t we go somewhere else? y’know, somewhere more, quiet” you suggested while scooting closer to kaeya.

“i wouldn’t mind that.”

as soon as you heard those words you immediately got up and left with kaeya. your plan was going perfectly and the best part is about to come soon. kaeya wasn’t stupid, he was an adult afterall and he knew what you were trying to do. dressing up all sexy like that, getting drinks, going somewhere more “private”, what else could it have been.

the two of you arrived in your house and headed straight for your bedroom. kaeya has been to your house many times for many reasons and he knew where everything was so he didn’t trip or fall.

you placed a light kiss on kaeya’s lips while he laid on your bed.

“wait here~ i’ll be right back.”

this was where things would get, interesting

you opened your fridge to grab a small wooden bowl. the content inside was covered by a small white cloth. after grabbing that you went to grab some rope from a drawer you hid them in because you didn’t know what to say if someone saw those items in your house.

after bringing the items back you put them on the side and pushed kaeya down.

“what’re those?” he asked

(its a surprise tool that’ll help us later.)

“don’t worry about it sweetheart, just lay back and let me do the work alright?”

you brought a blush to kaeya’s face with your flirty words as he gave you a small nod, signalling you consent and approval. you kept invading kaeya’s mouth over and over again, you’re tongue so skillful kaeya was sure this definitely wasn’t your first time. the kisses ended after a while leaving both of you panting and a half an erection in your pants. wanting more, you began to take off kaeya’s uniform. his skin is so beautiful, you could also see his well defined body, just the perfect amount, not too buff, not too skinny. you licked your lips a little bit and looked up at kaeya with a smirk. when you put your mouth onto kaeya’s pink nipples, he squealed a little out of surprise but soft moans soon began to escape from his mouth.

“a-ah~ didn’t know you had this in you, honorary knight.”

“oh i know a lot more tricks that can make you feel good~” you teased.

as you continued to suck on kaeya’s smooth skin, you decided to spice things up a little bit. kaeya yelped as he felt a slight pain around his nipples. you remove your mouth to see a bite mark around it.

“to mark you as mine~”

“tch, you cocky little bastard.”

seeing the tent building up in kaeya’s pants, you decided to take them off and grant it some release. after you took off kaeya’s jeans you saw a small stain at the top of his boxers, showing that he felt good earlier.

“alright... this is where the fun part begins.” you said as you grabbed the ropes you initially put on the floor.

“restraining me? go ahead, let’s see if the honorary knight is all talk or he actually has something up his sleeve.” kaeya taunted

not liking his attitude, you forcefully tied kaeya’s hands behind his back and pushed him to the end of the bed facing you with nothing on but his boxers. now, the mighty kaeya alberich, is at your mercy.

“alright, we can do this in two ways. one, you listen to me, second, i don’t think you’ll like what’ll happen,”

kaeya raised his head a little and looked you dead in the eyes.

“i choose the second option”

you knew kaeya was the bratty type and it’ll only add to the fun to tame him. after hearing his choice you pushed kaeya back to where he was before and uncovered the bowl you had prepared earlier on the side. the bow was filled with medium sized ice cubes and it was till now that kaeya finally realized what you were trying to do.

“ice cubes huh? bring it on.”

“you asked for it~”

you grabbed one of the ice cubes and started to rub it on kaeya’s pecs, making circular motions and slowing moving towards the center where his nipples are.

“f-fuck that’s cold.”

you saw kaeya’s cock twitch a little when you first reached his nipples and you knew he was feeling good. moving on with your plan, you rested the ice cube on kaeya’s nipples and lifted his boxers where his cock is still covered but his asshole is exposed to you. right after that, you grabbed the lube that has been sitting in your nightstand and spread them on your fingers. without mercy you put 2 fingers into kaeya, trying to find his pleasure spot. sooner or later when kaeya started to let out tiny moans you knew you hit your target.

“feels good huh baby boy~”

“y-yah, and so what o-oh fuck~”

kaeya was sure feeling it, to a point where he started stuttering.

the constant teasing got kaeya close to his limit. he couldn’t hold it any longer. but you’re not gonna let him cum that easy are you? of course not, he needed to be punished for what he did earlier.

“a-ah y/n i’m gonna cum i’m gonna cum so hard- wait why'd you s-stop?” kaeya asked

“you decided to be a brat earlier didn’t you~? bad boys get punishment.” you said with a smirk on your face.

kaeya stayed silent, not a word coming out of his mouth, head hung low feeling embarrassed.

“to think such an honourable knight such as you, the cavalry captain of mondstat, is now begging to cum. how shameful of you,” you let out a low chuckle as a provocative smile broke out on your lips, “i wonder what citizens would say if they saw their beloved and oh so admirable kaeya in this position?”

“maybe~ if you begged a little i might reconsider, don’t you think so, pretty boy?”

kaeya finally lost his composure at this point, all he wanted was to cum from your touch.

“fine... i don’t care anymore.” kaeya growled.

“p-please y/n.” kaeya looked up at you with pleading eyes. “i want to c-cum, i want to cum so bad. i should’ve been a good boy from the beginning… i promise i’ll be obedient from now on, j-just please, let me cum…” kaeya begged

“that’s what i thought.”

satisfied with kaeya’s begging, you decided to grant him his release. you added another ice cube to the other side of kaeya’s chest while stroking his dick through his boxers. of course you didn’t forget to keep teasing kaeya’s prostate while you were at it. all these different stimulations made kaeya lose his mind. the male came through his boxers all over the place. semen spilled on his own stomach and chest followed with moans so loud the entire mondstat could hear him.

after he settled himself down a little, kaeya waited for you to untie him. you exchanged a kiss with him while you were doing so, smiling at each other thinking about what just happened. neither of you cared about the mess that you made because you guys were tired. listening to the birds chirp, you fell asleep with the dark blue haired male on your bed.

the two of you woke up in the afternoon to the noises of mondstat. you woke up a little before kaeya and from your point of view he was literally a sleeping beauty. you stroked his hair a little bit, causing him to wake up.

"y/n…good morning handsome."

"right back at you."

both of you giggled a little while holding hands.

"hey kaeya?"

"yes y/n."

"i've been meaning to get this off my chest and i don't think there will be a better time to say it than now."

"well go ahead, i'm all ears."

"you were the only one that ever stuck with me in the knights, everyone was afraid of me due to my strength except for you. you listened to me, you talked to me, and if it weren't for you i probably would've quit the job at the knights already." you took a deep breath and let out the words kaeya were waiting for.

"kaeya alberich... will you he my boyfriend?"

kaeya gave you a small scoff as a reaction and a light kiss to your lips.

"what reason do i have to refuse such a perfect man?."

[hobidreams]

june 1869.

you’ve never been able to hide from him.

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: smut, angst, fluff? words: 2.3k contains: choices, consequences.

moonlit throne index. this is drabble 21. start from the beginning?

The moment you reach your private chambers, you collapse against the door. Your heart softly shudders with strain as you finally let the first tears fall, trickling steadily down your cheeks. The bundles you carried in fall to the floor as you cover your face with your cold hands, trying to stifle the quiet sobs that seem so determined to come.

You had gone into town after your work today. Walked down, escorted by a guard that you pretended wasn’t there. (The king now insisted upon such a thing whenever you left the palace walls, but you could tell the guard thought the job much beneath him.) You had just finished picking up a few ingredients from the market traders and was on your way to see if the bookstore had received new products when your attention had been caught by the sizeable crowd gathered outside the town clinic.

“Please, please, give me medicine for my daughter!” The peasant woman clutched a child that couldn’t have been more than two years old. The babe’s crying was as raucous as the yelling, the noisy mix of voices all clamoring with want.

“I need to see someone! My side— It hurts every day. I can’t work anymore. My family’s going to starve. I need treatment!”

The physician’s assistant stood on the clinic steps with folded arms and a bitter, hard look on his face. “Are we running a charity? We need to eat too! If you can’t pay, you can’t see the doctor!” He slammed the door in their faces, leaving them out in the sweltering heat, crying out that they could pay next week or as soon as they could, they just needed help right now, but the door remained shut.

Your chest felt stiflingly tight at the sight, compassion’s hand squeezing hard around your heart because you knew you could help. You had to help. You took a step forward, ready to offer your services only to have the guard block your way.

“Su-uinyeo-nim. We must return to the palace.”

“No, I want to stay.”

He shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. They could harm you.” And if they did, then his own head would likely be on the chopping block. Ridiculous.

“They won’t. They just need treatment, and I’m a physician.” You didn’t have many of your tools here but you could at least take a look, provide a diagnosis or recommend some easily obtainable herbs.

“The king would not approve of putting yourself in danger.”

You opened your mouth only to shut it. The king wouldn’t approve of a lot of things, but how could you just stand here and do nothing? These people, they needed your skills.

You took another step forward.

“Su-uinyeo-nim.” The guard’s voice was firm. He indicated for you to start walking away, towards home.

You shot him a stare, the hardest look you could conjure, but didn’t move. Not yet, damn it.

“Oh—uinyeo-nim!”

You dallied long enough. One of the women had evidently recognized your outfit and was now barreling towards you with a fire in her eyes. “Uinyeo-nim, you can help me, right!? It’s my daughter, she’s been having a fever and—”

“No, she cannot.” The guard’s glare was as sharp as the blade that the hand on his sword promised.

“Oh, please!” She threw herself against the arm the guard tried to reign her in with. Threw herself forward trying to reach you. “My daughter, my daughter will die if she’s not treated!”

“Let me—” You started, only for the guard to shove her harshly back since he could not do the same to you. She cried out, almost toppling over from the force as she clutched her baby, but he did not relent.

“We are leaving.”

He began to boldly walk towards you, practically into you, leaving you no choice in the matter. You were too afraid he might hurt her further if you did not comply even though every step away felt like a blow to your chest, like tiny fists pounding against your ribcage, making you sore and ache because the stark truth was that your inability to help her wasn’t even entirely the guard’s fault.

All those years ago, you chose to stay.

You never opened the affordable clinic mother had dreamed of. You put your feelings before the wellbeing of all those people you could have helped then, and you did it again today. Selfish. Selfish and helpless and selfish. For all the work you’ve done, it never feels like enough. There are always more patients in need and here you are, living among this extravagance and opulence but really getting nowhere. Not with the king. Not with how much change you can bring to the people.

Even your tears can only be shed here, in privacy and cowardice.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you whisper through your blurry vision, but these are just words. They do nothing in the end and every choice feels like the wrong one and that there will only be dire consequences to follow them.

“Su-uinyeo-nim?”

At Eunuch Kim’s muted voice, you startle. Hurriedly, you wipe the backs of your hands against your eyes. “Y-Yes?”

“The king has requested your company tonight.”

“Oh.” Shit. You’re in no state to face him, not for what he has in mind, but you must go. “I-I’ll be ready in a few minutes. Just allow me to… change.” You push to your feet, onto shaky legs as you sniff.

“Of course.”

The brief walk over in the cool summer evening helps to pull some of the sorrow from your mind (or at least tucks it away to be revisited later when you find yourself as always, alone). Eunuch Kim is kind enough not to probe into the heaviness about you today; he simply chats about the latest novel he has picked up in town, a study of birds that he recommends heartily to you. The king is not so kind. The second you enter his chambers, tilt your head just enough for him to catch your eye, he frowns.

“You’ve been crying.”

It’s not a question.

“I, um, simply had some dust in my eyes, jeonha.”

Searching for a distraction, you begin to undo the tie of your blouse. You’ve never purposefully let him see you openly upset, or at least not since this ‘arrangement’ began.

“Dust. Really.”

You nod, unwilling to meet his stare.

The floorboard creaks as he steps towards you. Covers your hands with his own so he can strip you instead. You can’t tell if he believes you; he is so quiet while he pulls layer after layer from you, letting the fabric drop to the floor in bunches of crumpled white and light blue. The warmth of his fingers on your skin feels like comfort, even when it’s only a prelude to his desire.

Isn’t it stupid, that some excessive part of you wants him to openly refute your lies even as you tell them? To undress your mind as hungrily he does your body until you have no choice but to be bared and free, released from the burden of your own thoughts?

“Get on the bed.”

Maybe it’s better like this. You are the only woman he has ever known in this way; you can’t let yourself be so greedy, to again let that selfish part of you want and want and want so much that appetite consumes you, bones and all. You press your palms and knees to the hard bedding. Squeeze your eyes together. Force the tears to stay back while you wait for the burn to come.

His calloused hands land on your waist, but it’s to urge you to turn over instead.

“J-Jeonha?” you question, confused when you see him already on his knees, that piercing gaze provoking goosebumps from your skin. “Why…”

His hands find your ass, urging you towards the edge of the bed. He throws the top layer of his robes aside before he spreads your legs apart, letting them rest against the wood.

What… What is he doing? You find your answer as the sokgot strips fall to the floor beneath his touch and abruptly, before your poor heart has time to prepare itself, his breath blows warm across your clit.

“Ah, this—!” Wild-eyed, you try to squirm back, hot with embarrassment that his face is this close to your crotch. It floods you with worry after worry about your scent, the possible bumps marring your skin, the tufts of hair, but he doesn’t seem to care about any of it as he hooks his hands beneath your thighs. “You’re not—”

Soft lips and a slick tongue are pressed flush against you.

Your entire body seems to quiver at the first lick; a single taste of wetness followed by a second, a third, a relentless fourth that makes liquid pleasure crest, surging upwards, a high, rushing tide in mere seconds. You buck, hands finding no support upon the sheets and part of you wants to cover your face instead, to let die the moans that surface with each gasp but that means you would miss the sight. This unforgettable sight: inky eyes between your thighs, the quick, pink tip of his tongue swiping heat directly into your veins. It feels messy before he finds his rhythm, settles into a beat that only reaffirms how he is irrefutably dominant even while he is on his knees before you, for once not breaking you apart but making you feel so dizzyingly whole you could burst.

While his fingers have learned almost every inch of you, this remains a scenario you never even thought to entertain, never even thought he would want. His pleasing only you. His putting you at the forefront of even his own satisfaction. Stop. The grip on your thigh tightens; you never want him to let go. Stop giving me hope. He does anyway with a drawn out suck, his stare as hazy and heady as if he’s been drinking the most exquisite cheongju.

Your body is taut, sweat beading down your spine. “This is— I can’t—”

“You can,” he quips back, and whatever words you could have said are stolen by orgasm. Taken, and made unbecoming moans that blow past the last shreds of your resistance now resting between his teeth.

It overwhelms you, this newfound sensitivity from being consumed; it makes you want to shirk back but he doesn’t let you. Somehow one of your legs finds its way over his shoulder and he uses that momentum to keep you against his stunning mouth, giving you what you need but never what you want. Each lick nudges you further off the edge, finding an acute bliss past every limitation you thought you had and you think, feverishly you think — it’s like he’s giving you permission to fall apart.

Tears coalesce at the corner of your eyes but you don’t notice. You don’t even know they’re there until wetness trails down your cheeks and even then you’re distracted by another peak, this one a muted swell that makes your muscles tense around his thin frame; he supports your weight without a word of complaint as his strokes finally dwindle in time with your pulses until both drop off entirely.

As he lets your leg roll off his arm, his breaths come almost as unsteadily as yours. Slowly, he retracts his wide hands from your thighs. Rolling his tongue against the inside of his own cheek, you watch him paint your taste in his mouth and don’t know what to make of any of it.

It’s only when a few tears cling to your eyelashes and blur your vision that you realize what’s happening. How embarrassing. You told yourself you wouldn’t do this on the way here and look at you now. You’re about to reach up to wipe away the tears, the damning evidence of your weakness when the king wraps his hands tight around your wrists. Pushes you back. Presses his knees to the bed as he hovers above you, all silence and heat and him.

“Um, j-jeon—”

He leans down and cuts you off with a kiss.

You gasp into his mouth but he doesn’t pull away. He is just soft, persistent, firm, and soft as he moves naturally across territory that should have been unfamiliar, but instead it feels like he’s been mapping, planning this capture for as long as you have. An impossible dream, yes, but the warm breath ghosting across your skin, lingering, is real. You open for him. For your first kiss. Your first kiss with him.

The warm fingers at your wrist squeeze harder.

“You… You can cry.” His voice is a murmur, delicate and hesitant against your lips, as if imparting a secret. “If you want.”

So you do.

You finally let yourself cry while he kisses you again and again, adjusting his angle to push you further into the pillows, releasing a wrist to cup your wet cheek. He kisses you with his nose pressed to yours, a tiny, precious moan finding freedom from someone’s throat.

Yoongi, your mind recalls, clinging to the syllables that belong to a word you’ve never dared to say aloud as he kisses you, kisses you, kisses you until both your mouths are swollen and your chest feels a bit lighter, his a bit heavier in exchange.

And when he finally pulls away, he holds you. His arms accept all your gravity for just a few lingering minutes more, a few heartbeats more, until it’s time for you to go.

[possiamo-andare]

Just You (5)

JJ x Reader x Rafe (love triangle)

MASTERLIST

word count: 7.4k

a/n: you know I had to sprinkle a couple of jane austen references here and there ;)

~

The Midsummer festival had been celebrated at the Cameron household for decades, if not longer. Their family was one of the oldest in the small town of Outer Banks and it became tradition for Rose Cameron to organize the event. She spent a majority of her year planning for one night of festivities, relying only on her close friends for help. She bore the brunt of the work, deciding on the theme, caterers, decorations, live band, venue, and so on. After all was said and done, Rose slept for a week, exhausted from all the planning. At one point in her and Ward’s marriage, she had almost decided against planning it at all since the task was so stressful. But she had pushed on, determined to make this year’s Midsummer festival the best one yet.

And, in theory, she succeeded. This year’s theme was regency; an idea that slipped into her mind after she had watched Pride and Prejudice for the first time. Rose had a taste for the finer things in life and although Ward gave her everything he could, she did grow envious of the women who lived in the regency era and got to live in exquisite dresses. So, with further support from her friends, Rose handed out invitations to Outer Banks’s elite, citing on the invitation that this year was regency themed. Now, all she needed to do was plan the festival.

She decided to host the festival in a beautiful hall called the DeClaire Hall. Most of the time, the Midsummer festival was hosted merely from their big backyard that spanned acres of land. But Rose wanted to outdo herself and prove to the snobby PTA moms that she had what it took to host an event for the town. This hall was one of the only ones in Outer Banks and it was rarely used, mostly because the Outer Banks’s Historical Society deemed it a national landmark. It had been a hotel for the elite some 120 years ago and it had not been used in the last fifty. But it was beautiful, the original marble and vinyl floors still in great condition, and Rose knew the festival had to be thrown here. So, with permits from the city council and Historian Society, Rose began planning the Midsummer festival at the DeClaire Hall.

Once word spread of where the festival was being held, everyone was gossiping about it. All the Kooks, even the ones who thought they were too good for the Midsummer festival, had RSVP'd. Well, everyone except Y/N’s parents.

“You’re not going?” Y/N grumbled, entering her kitchen with loud stomps of her feet. She had just got off the phone with Sarah. who had mentioned to Y/N that her parents had never RSVP’d.

“Your father and I decided that none of us are going.” Y/N’s mother spoke sweetly, cutting her daughter's sandwich in half. She placed her plate on the table, but Y/N made no move to sit.

“Why?” Y/N stood tall, watching as her mom and dad walked around the kitchen, preparing lunch. Her siblings were at the table, eating, but she promised herself to go on a hunger strike until her parents let her go.

Her father stopped for a moment and looked up from his plate. “Sweetie, why do you wanna go to a party like that anyways?”

Y/N furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

This time, Y/N’s mom spoke. “You said it yourself a couple days ago; the Cameron’s have been nothing but unkind to you since you got here.”

“But not Sarah! She’s been nothing but nice.” Y/N felt a deep urge to defend her friend from her parent’s hurtful words.

“Yes, Sarah is lovely but I’m not talking about her.” Y/N’s dad began. “I’m talking about Rose Cameron, who didn’t let your mom join the PTA and called your mom names behind her back. And Ward Cameron, who bad mouthed me to the country club so I wouldn’t get in. And let’s not even talk about how rude Rafe Cameron has been to you.”

Y/N bit her lip, shuddering at even the mention of Rafe’s name. “Seriously? Firstly, mom didn’t even want to join the PTA. She hates those snobby women. And you,” Y/N points to her dad. “You don’t even like golf. It’s bad for the environment.”

Y/N watched her mom roll her eyes. “That’s not the point, Y/N. Even if we don’t want to do those things, we should at least have the choice.”

Y/N sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. She knew her parents, in some ways, were right but she still wanted to go. She had never dressed but before and she wanted to feel like a princess for at least one night. “But I wanna go. I already stick out like a sore thumb in this town, I just want to fit in for one night.”

Y/N’s parents glanced at each other, sorrowful looks on their faces. They hated seeing their daughter so upset and tried to swallow their own disgust. Finally, after looking at each other for a moment, their eyes returned to Y/N.

Y/N’s mom spoke first. “If you go, promise me you’ll be careful.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “I promise.”

Y/N’s mom forced a smile, unsure on whether she made the right decision. She wanted her daughter to be happy, but she also wanted to protect her daughter from the Cameron’s bitterness. “Okay, then you can go.”

~

Sarah had bought five regency themed dresses for the Midsummer festival. She had the first two tailored, a white and pink one but, when they didn’t look the way she wanted, she custom ordered another three from a small business on the mainland. The three dresses; a blue, green, and yellow one, had been shipped from the mainland to OBX in a matter of days and had come in just on time. Literally. The morning of the festival, a frantic delivery man dropped them off at the Cameron house. This was literally Sarah's last hope. If none of them looked good on her, she would just not show up.

Thankfully, the blue one fit perfectly and looked like a dream on her. It was a sky-blue silk dress that flowed down to her feet. The sleeves, which were this blue lace material, ended just above her elbows. The dress, although flowy, was cinched just a little at the waist by a ribbon. It looked absolutely stunning on Sarah and Y/N made sure to tell her the second she saw her friend.

“You look gorgeous.” Y/N spoke sweetly, marvelling at even how Sarah’s hair was styled. It was in this half up, half down hairdo; the top pieces of her hair held together by the same fabric of her dress.

Sarah blushed, shaking her head. “Have you seen yourself?”

Y/N had and even she had to admit that she was blown away. Sarah had let her choose from all the dresses she had, and Y/N decided on the white one. It was of the same style as Sarah’s dress but much more elegant. Sarah didn’t think she could pull it off but as she looked at Y/N, she knew her friend made a good choice. It was a white satin dress with short sleeves but, over the satin dress, lace was decorated. Stitched into the lace were small red flowers littering the dress. It was beautiful and complemented Y/N so well.

Not to mention, Y/N’s hair looked breathtaking. It was a simple style but matched the sophisticated theme of the festival. The two front pieces of Y/N’s hair were pulled back, the only thing holding them together was the same red flowers that decorated her gown. She passed Sarah for a moment, looking at herself one more time in the full-length mirror. She was in awe of how she looked.

Y/N rarely had an occasion where she could dress up this elegantly. At her old school, she had been invited to prom by a senior and went with him, dressing up in a pink floor length gown, but that had been years ago. Besides, she didn’t exactly have the best time since the senior that invited her never even asked her to dance, too busy with his own friend group to care if she was having fun.

Y/N shook off that awkward memory. This time it would be different. This time she was going to a party with someone who genuinely liked her. She had a feeling that she was going to have a different experience at this party.

“Sarah!” Rose called from downstairs, momentarily stopping Sarah and Y/N’s conversation. “It’s time to take pictures!”

Sarah looks to her bedroom door, then back at her friend. “Ready?”

Y/N nodded, a slight flutter in her chest. She knew Rafe would be down there, and she wondered, for a moment, what he would think of her dress. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Unfortunately, Rafe was concerned with other matters. As Y/N and Sarah made their way downstairs, Rafe stood uncomfortably in his father’s study. They had been in there for five unbearable minutes. Rafe dreaded every time his dad had to speak to him alone because he knew it’d only spark an argument. They rarely got along; Ward being too tough on Rafe and Rafe constantly looking for validation from his father.

“You’re going into your first year of university in the fall and you have no plan.” Ward said, rather matter-of-factly.

Rafe gulped. Against his father’s approval, Rafe enrolled in the business program at the University of North Carolina. His father wanted him to enroll in a science program, which he thought was more structured. But Rafe wanted to own his own business someday, just like his dad. Besides, although he was good at science, he didn’t enjoy it the way he enjoyed the business classes he took in high school. What Ward didn’t know was that Rafe had a plan, he was just afraid to share it with his father for fear that his father would disapprove and eventually stop helping him pay for school. Rafe couldn’t do it alone and he knew his dad’s money would help.

“I’m taking courses that will help me graduate. I promise I know what I’m doing dad.”

Rafe pulled at the collar of his shirt. He wore a stunning but simple suit. He wore a white dress shirt, the two top buttons unbuttoned for comfort rather than for style, and a black fitted blazer. The gold cufflinks Rose gifted him shone against the light in his dad’s study. The most annoying part of his outfit definitely had to be the sleeves. There were annoying frills at the edge of them, some type of embroidered pattern sewn into the sleeves. It was supposed to scream regency, he remembered Rose saying, but all he wanted to do was scream bloody murder.

“I’m giving you one year Rafe, if you don’t have a plan by then,” Ward sighed, massaging his temples. Rafe grew sad at the idea that he was stressing his dad out by simply following his dreams. “I’m cutting you off.”

Rafe didn’t try to protest. He knew there was nothing he could do to change his dad’s mind. All he could do was prove to his dad that he made the right decision. He had to be the best and he had to outperform everyone in his class. That way, his dad would be proud of him and support him in university.

Rafe only nodded at what his father said, making no effort to even respond. Over the years, he figured it was best to just let his father get the last word.

There was a knock on the door before any more words could be exchanged between the two. Ward, knowing that it was probably his wife, welcomed the person inside. The door opened slightly, only enough for the person to peek their head through. It was, in fact, Rose. Rafe smiled, remembering to make sure it looked like he was having fun. Rose had gone through all this trouble to plan this festival, the least he could do was play along.

“Oh, honey, we’re taking some pictures before we leave.” Rose’s voice was quiet and mellow, not wanting to disturb whatever conversation Rafe was having with his father.

Ward smiled, nodding sweetly to his wife. “We’ll be right there.”

Rose nods, leaving the door slightly ajar so Rafe and Ward can follow after her. Ward makes his way towards the door, glaring at Rafe.

His words are just as menacing as his glare. “Do not disappoint me.”

Rafe doesn’t even nod this time. He’s too afraid. He knows, not only by his dad’s glare, but also by how his dad leaves the room, that he is serious. More serious than he’s ever been. Rafe doesn’t move for a moment, almost too nervous to take the first step. His legs feel like jelly, and he knows that if he doesn’t calm down soon, he might faint. He wants his dad to be proud of him so badly, that he’s ready to work himself to the bone. His dad has never so much as given him a nod of approval before and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t something he craved. He yearned for the day when his dad would smile at him, telling Rafe he was proud of him.

But that day was not today, and Rafe knew he had to get over it. One day, it may happen, but he had to push all that down for tonight. Tonight, was a night to support Rose and all the hard work that went into planning a celebration like this. So, Rafe began to walk towards the door of his dad’s study, trying to forget about the conversation he just had with his dad.

As he exited the study, he straightened his collar. He felt very uncomfortable in such a fancy suit, but he tried to focus on the afterparty, something he was a little more excited for. Sure, Y/N was going but he knew JJ was jealous and would try to keep them apart all evening. All he had to do was tolerate her now and on the way to the hall and after that, he would not have to think of her for the rest of the night.

Unfortunately, things never go Rafe’s way. The second he walked outside, he felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. Rose was taking pictures of everyone in their front garden, mentioning to Rafe before that her tulips would look great as a background piece. He had figured that since no one seemed to be in the house, they were all outside. He was right, but at what cost? Well, the cost was his sanity.

She stood there as if it was another normal day. As if she dressed like that every day. Rafe was utterly speechless. How could she be doing something as mundane as talking to Sarah but look so stunning? This was the first time he envied JJ Maybank. Although Rafe had everything a guy could ask for, JJ got the ultimate prize; he got to escort Y/N to the Midsummer festival. He got to intertwine their hands and show her off. He was the one who could dance with her and hold her and tell her how breathtaking she looked. All Rafe could do was watch (more like stare) and pretend to not notice the most beautiful woman in the room.

He hesitated for a moment. His eyes were trained on her dress instead of her face, fearing he would blush too much and make his attraction toward her obvious. Unfortunately, looking at her dress didn’t help. The fabric blew in the wind, enhancing the silhouette of her body. Ultimately, Rafe just looked away. Every moment he looked at her was another moment he was reminded that she was not his.

“Rafe!” Rose called, watching as Rafe stood away from the group. His head was down and only when she called did, he turns it up slightly. “Come over here and take some pictures!”

Rafe nodded, realizing her eyes were probably on him now. He gulped nervously. “O-okay.”

Rose frowned, confused at Rafe’s shy behaviour. She looked to Ward, who was typing something on his phone. She knew how rocky Ward and Rafe’s relationship was and knew that whenever they entered Ward’s study, Rafe would come out a meek boy. She figured Ward had done something again to hurt Rafe. Although this was true, it was not the real reason Rafe was acting so shy.

“What did you say to him?” Rose whispered to Ward once his phone was tucked away.

Ward rolled his eyes. “He needs some tough love, that boy.”

Rose was fuming but tried to keep her cool. Just for this one night. “I swear Ward, this is my day. Do not ruin it.”

Ward smirked, leaning down to kiss his wife on her cheek. “Of course, not darling. Everything will go your way tonight.”

If only they knew what was to come.

~

JJ Maybank was nervous. He swears, before he met Y/N, he was never an anxious person. Now he seemed to be panicking all the time. He knew it was because of Y/N. She was one of the best parts of his life right now and JJ had a dangerous pattern of ruining all the good things in his life. He knew it was because he was always scared of losing someone or something so special to him and never recovering. This was especially true with Y/N. Although they were not official, they had hung out basically every day since they met, and JJ’s feelings had become clear. He wanted to be her boyfriend.

And tonight, if everything went well, he would ask Y/N to be his girlfriend. He had never moved this slow with a girl before, but he was willing to try. He didn’t want to scare her off, so he played it safe.

Except, for right now. Agreeing to go to the Midsummer festival was probably the least safe thing JJ could do. He was not accepted by the Kooks, his reputation preceding him. He was rarely on his best behaviour when Kooks were involved so he was very nervous that he would somehow ruin the evening for Y/N. He could tell she had been excited for this festival, and he was sure that if he ruined the night for her, she would never want to be with him. So, with a deep breath, JJ promised himself that no matter what, he’d be on his best behaviour.

And then he saw Y/N exit Ward Cameron’s car.

She stood out like a sore thumb. None of the other girls could compare to her. JJ felt time freeze for a moment as he looked at the most beautiful girl in the world. Her white dress fitted her perfectly, it was as if it was made for her. Her hair made her look ethereal, like a fairy glowing in the dimming light. The festival was supposed to start right as the sun set so many people were already using flashlights so they could see the path to the entrance of the hall but not JJ. Y/N was his flashlight, illuminating not only herself but his entire life.

Once their eyes met, it was fireworks. JJ felt his heart skip a beat, the reality of her beauty setting in. He didn’t have to smile at her, he’d been smiling since she stepped out of the car. When she registered that it was JJ who was wearing the goofy grin, she smiled right back.

Although JJ thought Y/N looked beautiful, Y/N thought JJ looked handsome. He wore a black button up with black blazer and slacks. The collar of his shirt was embroidered with white flowers and lace, seeming to match Y/N without knowing. The usual messy hair look he wore so well was brushed back and styled. All the dirt and grime on his face was gone. It was like looking at a new JJ. A JJ that Y/N never thought she would get to see.

Once she’s an arm’s length away, JJ’s arms stretch out towards her, and she gladly accepts the hug. They both seem excited but nervous to be here. Even though Y/N is technically a Kook, she feels out of place. She knows that everyone is looking at her with disdain; knowing her family is from new money. Everyone except JJ and Sarah.

“You look beautiful.” JJ remarks as they pull away from each other.

“Thanks, J. You don’t look so bad yourself.” Y/N blushes, looping her arm around JJ. “Where’d you get that suit?”

JJ smirked. “Sarah lent it to me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, glancing at Sarah. She was being escorted inside by John B. Y/N reminded herself to thank Sarah again. The festival is starting and every woman with a date is being escorted in now. “Shall we?”

JJ nods, tilting his chin up higher. “Yes, m’lady.”

Whatever image Y/N had in her mind of how the DeClaire Hall would look quickly vanished once they were inside. Large, tall marble pillars stood tall in every corner of the room. They were white, reflecting off the marble walls and vinyl floors. The middle of the hall was empty, only a few couples dancing to the melody of a violin playing. The tables were scattered along the outer part of the hall, decorated with white linen and golden embellishments. Both Y/N and JJ were astonished that Rose pulled it off. It was as if Y/N and JJ had been transported to the regency time period, watching in awe as every person seemed to be playing a character. The women wore long, bright dresses while the men were styled in fitted but elegant suits. Sarah was right; Rose really did go all out for this celebration.

“Woah.” JJ gasped. He had never seen something like this before. Although he was in awe, he was still a little bitter. The Kooks had all this money to spend on a festival that didn’t really matter but couldn’t donate some money to fix up JJ’s school or help out the dirt poor Pogues? He was bitter at the thought of all these Kooks enjoying themselves while his friends like Kie and Pope sat at home.

Y/N nodded; her eyes trained on Rafe. She couldn’t help herself. She wished he didn’t look so good but there he was, standing 20 feet away and looking like a dream. “Yeah, woah is right.”

Before any more words could be exchanged, the soft music stopped, and Rose entered the dance floor. She stood tall, the train of her yellow dress trailing behind her. “Hello everyone!” She had begun to speak but instead of her normal voice, she pretended to put on an English accent. “Thank you for coming to the ninety fifth anniversary of the Midsummer festival!”

Y/N snickered, leaning towards JJ’s ear. “This can’t be real.”

JJ smirked at her, his voice lowering. “We call them Kooks for a reason.”

“Shortly, the festivities will commence but before then, let us go over some ground rules.” Rose paused for a moment, waiting until everyone quieted down. “Firstly, young ladies will not stand up for more than two consecutive dances with the same partner. Secondly, there will be no vulgarity of any sort. And lastly, have a wondrous time!” The last sentence was spoken in her own words, the English accent no longer present in her voice.

Everyone seemed to cheer, some even clinking their champagne glasses together. The music began again, a soft melody flowing throughout the hall. Although everyone else seemed to be taking this seriously, waltzing with their partner and speaking in an English accent, Y/N and JJ were not.

JJ bowed, a goofy grin on his face. “M’lady, would you care to dance?” His southern accent was hard to disguise, even under a fake and terrible English accent.

Y/N giggled, curtsying slightly. “Why, of course!” Her hands rested in JJ’s as he led her to the middle of the hall. With anyone else, she would feel embarrassed, but it was so fun being with JJ that she didn’t care what other people thought of her.

As they pushed past crowds of Kooks, all dressed up in the finest clothing she ever saw, JJ leaned down, his breath fanning against her neck. “This has to be the stupidest shit I’ve ever done.”

Y/N smirked, looking up at him. Their lips were inches apart and she had the sudden urge to kiss him. “That can’t be true.”

JJ pouted, finally finding an open spot for them to sway to the music. He twirled Y/N around, watching in awe as her smile only grew wider. He swore he could watch her like this all day. “You’re right, it’s not.” He knew the stupidest thing he’d ever done was not kiss her sooner.

Y/N grew nervous, unsure of how to actually dance with a partner. She had never done this before. Thankfully, JJ did not hesitate like she did. She watched as he carefully placed one hand on her waist as the other clasped onto her hand. She let her other hand fall to the side, unsure of what to do next.

She looked up at JJ sheepishly. “How do I do this?” There was an awkward giggle at the end as Y/N tried to hide behind her embarrassment.

JJ smirked, his hand leaving her waist for a moment and guiding her limp arm to his shoulder. “Hold me.” Once his hand returned to her waist, he pulled her body closer to him. He could feel the warmth of her chest against his which only made his heartbeat faster. They had never been this close. Never touched each other in such a delicate way.

Soon, the two of them swayed to the music, a lovestruck grin on both of their faces. Y/N wished she could capture this moment forever. She was sure no one else had ever made her feel like this. She felt so protected. So secure. She knew that if she could, she’d choose to be in JJ’s arms forever. She was the happiest she could ever be as she danced with JJ, swaying to a song about unrequited love.

But, about twenty feet away in the corner of the room, Rafe enviously watched as the girl he wanted most danced with another man.

~

The first two hours of the Midsummer festival went marvellous. Y/N and JJ seemed to be attached at the hip, dancing, drinking, and laughing together the entire time. It seemed that all the nerves the two of them had at the beginning of the night dwindled down when they were with each other and had a few drinks. For Y/N, the best part was she had not run into Rafe once. He had been on the other side of the hall all night, drinking with his friends and dancing with a few girls. And although Y/N convinced herself that she was not watching him, she couldn’t help but feel a tad envious seeing Rafe dance with a couple girls.

The rules that Rose spoke about at the beginning of the night were more serious than Y/N and JJ initially thought. They thought it was all for show, just another way for the night to feel more realistic. But in reality, Rose would not let women dance with the same man consecutively. It was odd the first time she caught JJ and Y/N dancing, both of them ready to lie just so they could dance together again, but Rose shooed them away, telling them to wait for the next song to come on before they danced together again.

After the fourth time of Y/N and JJ trying to sneak past Rose and being caught red handed, they decided to just wait it out. How long could one song be?

“JJ,” Y/N cooed, sitting down at their table. They were seated with Sarah and John B at table two while Rose, Ward, and their friends were seated at table one. “Can you get me a glass of water?”

JJ smirked, crouched down to meet Y/N’s eyeline. “I’ve worn you out already?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, a devious glint in her eyes. “I’m sorry I don’t have the stamina to drink and dance for two hours.”

JJ shrugged, standing up again. “Fine, but you owe me a dance after. That line is so long and I’m gonna have to make conversation with those snooty PTA moms.”

Y/N giggled. “Well, if you come back with a cold glass of water, I’ll do more than dance with you.”

It was supposed to be a teasing comment and it was, but there was a serious undertone to the way she talked. She had waited too long to kiss JJ. If he could just stop being a gentleman for one moment.

JJ’s back straightened, his brows raised. He slightly nods, as if he’s tipping his nonexistent hat in her direction. “I’ll be right back.”

Y/N watches in amusement as JJ scurries across the hall, impatiently waiting in the long ass line. Y/N sighs, thinking she’ll be able to relax for a moment. Although she loves dancing with JJ, she needs to rest her feet. Unfortunately, before she can properly rest, Sarah and John B rush towards her.

“What did you say to JJ that got him so riled up? That man basically ran to the bar.” John B jokes, glancing at his friend. Some of the PTA moms began talking to JJ and he watches as his friend uncomfortably tries to make conversation.

“Nothing. I’m just waiting until we can dance again.” Y/N smirks, watching JJ from across the hall as well.

“But the waltz is on next, and JJ won’t be back in time!” Sarah frowns, glancing at JJ before her gaze returns to Y/N.

Y/N shrugs. She knew her and Sarah promised to dance the waltz together with their partners, but Y/N wasn’t too worried. She figured the waltz would be played many times that night and they’d dance it next time it came on. She tried to reassure Sarah by saying so, but Sarah only frowned deeper.

“No, I’m leaving in, like, twenty minutes. Rafe and I have to start setting everything up at our house for the afterparty. It starts in an hour.” Sarah groaned.

Y/N frowned, now a little upset as well that they wouldn’t be able to fulfill their promise. “I’m sorry. I wish I could dance with you guys; I do.”

It seemed that the second those words left Y/N’s mouth, Sarah’s eyes lit up and she was no longer frowning. “Maybe you can.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “JJ’s not leaving that line now. I promised him something if he got me some water.”

Sarah giggled, instantly knowing what Y/N was implying. “No, silly. Not JJ. Someone else.” But before Y/N could ask her who she had in mind, Sarah dashed off, disappearing into the crowd of people gathered on the other side of the hall.

Y/N looked to John B, getting up from her seat. Her feet didn’t hurt as much anymore, the little rest she took had helped a lot. “What’s she up to?”

John B shrugged, a smug grin on his lips. “I never know.”

Y/N giggled at John B’s little remark because it was so true. Sarah was a very creative person and someone Y/N could go to whenever she was having a problem. Sarah always came up with the best solutions.

Except for now. Sarah was Y/N’s best friend in OBX but, when she emerged from the crowd tugging on the sleeve of a familiar face, Y/N wished Sarah didn’t have these creative plans. The person she was dragging along was Rafe. She had somehow looped Rafe into this. The last person Y/N wanted to see tonight. He looked confused and it was clear to Y/N that Sarah had not let Rafe in on her plan. This comforted her a little; knowing Rafe would be just as mortified.

When they reached about six feet away from Y/N and John B, Rafe finally understood what was about to happen. Y/N was right, he looked mortified. Rafe didn’t feel as though mortified was the right word. Humiliated. Nauseous. Literally any word that would describe how shitty he felt the second his eyes met Y/N’s.

He tried to run away; he really did. He stopped walking the second he realized what was going on. Sarah was only tugging on him because he let her. If he really wanted to, he could overpower her in seconds. And that’s what he did. He stopped in his tracks, refusing to move even as Sarah pulled harder on his sleeve.

“C’mon, she’s, my friend.” Sarah pleaded, her grasp on Rafe tightening.

Rafe shook his head, glancing Y/N’s way once more. He quickly grew embarrassed that her eyes were still on him and immediately looked back to Sarah. “Well, she’s not my friend.”

Sarah sighed, her lips in a deep pout. “Whatever weird energy you have for her, swallow it. Just for one dance.”

Rafe wanted to argue. He wanted to say that they shared no weird energy. That he just didn’t care for that hippie. But his sister knew him too well and although she might not have noticed his feelings for Y/N fully, she did register some tension between them. Rafe hated lying to his sister so, with a deep breath and a quick roll of his eyes, he agreed. It was just one dance. What’s the worst that could happen?

Y/N, on the other hand, was less flexible than Rafe. The second Sarah was close enough to hear, Y/N voiced her disdain. Which was bold since Rafe was standing in front of her.

“No way. I’m not getting a pity dance from your brother.”

Rafe scoffed, rolling his eyes for what seemed like the tenth time tonight. “A thank you would suffice.”

Y/N shook her head. “Oh, a thank you?” She repeated, her blood boiling. How could someone be so attractive yet so annoying at the same time. “How about this as a thank you?” Without even thinking, Y/N raised her hand and stuck her middle finger in the air defiantly.

Y/N’s anger only made him cockier. Call Rafe a coward all you want but he was damn good at hiding behind anger to protect his own feelings. “Not very ladylike, is it? Especially in this time period.”

“You know what is appropriate in this time period though?” Y/N grumbled. “The guillotine.”

Before Rafe could come up with an intelligent rebuttal, John B cut through the tension by stepping in between the two of them. It was getting pretty heated, and John B was sure Y/N was about to punch him. “Hey guys! The waltz should be on any minute so can we please put a pin in this and just have a fun time?”

Y/N stared at Rafe, her heart fluttering a little at how rosy his cheeks had gotten during their conversation. Although he had said such terrible things, somehow, she knew he had not meant any of it. So, with a steady breath, she outstretched her hand. She had a tiny smile on her lips and this time, it wasn’t forced.

“I’m willing to put it aside if you’re willing to dance with me.”

Rafe gulped, looking at her outstretched hand and gingerly taking it. “Fine.” It was all he could muster out. He was so nervous, and it didn’t help that this was the first time they had touched. She had always felt so far away from him and now their hands were intertwined. Her skin felt soft against his and he swore he felt a buzz of electricity course through him the second their hands touched.

Y/N could feel it too. She tried to ignore it, blaming it on static electricity or anything else. She would blame it on the wind before she would conclude that there was some part of her that was drawn to Rafe Cameron. They both stayed speechless and even as they approached the middle of the hall where everyone was dancing, they barely made an effort to look at each other. Everything felt so tense the second their hands touched.

Finally, the music died down for a moment. The waltz was the next song and Y/N prepared herself mentally. No matter what her brain told her, she did not feel anything for Rafe. She liked JJ. But as the music began and Rafe made the first move, she was not so sure. His hands were gentle but hesitant, scared to place his hand on her hip. They were in each other’s space. Y/N had never been this close to him. She breathed in through her nose, smelling his wonderful cologne.

“You’re gonna have to hold me, you know that right?” Her tone comes off as sarcastic because it’s the only one she’s familiar with around Rafe.

Rafe rolls his eyes. “Uh, yeah. I know.” He places one hand on Y/N’s hip, swallowing harshly before reaching out with his other hand and holding onto her hand. Their thumbs are intertwined, a small gesture that causes Rafe’s stomach to stir.

When the music starts, it’s soft and low at first and Y/N expects them to just sway. She had really only been swaying when she danced with JJ since they both weren’t sure how to formally dance. But Rafe had been to enough of these festivals to know how to lead a girl through a dance. So, as the music’s pace began to grow, Rafe led Y/N across the floor. Their feet seemed to be at the same pace, quietly shuffling like everyone else. He wasn’t going too fast like Y/N expected and she was grateful for it. But she was nervous nonetheless and looked to her feet so she wouldn’t accidentally step on Rafe’s toes.

Rafe chuckled at Y/N’s nervousness. He couldn’t stop thinking that she was so cute. “You have to look at your partner when you’re dancing with them.” The tone was more teasing than he wanted it to be.

Y/N looked up, blushing at her naivety. “Um, I’m afraid I’m gonna fall.”

She was being vulnerable with him. Sure, it was a very small step, but it was a step forward, nonetheless. Rafe beamed, endeared at her bashfulness. She had never been this way with him. He was taking her out of her comfort zone. “I promise you won’t step on my toes. And if you do, I won’t mind.”

Y/N gives Rafe a bashful smile. She’s looking at him while they dance now, never breaking eye contact. But Rafe is the bashful one now and continuously finds himself looking away. He’s so nervous. She’s looking at him. She’s really looking at him. He has to wonder; does she like what she sees?

“Now look at who's not focusing on their partner.” Y/N’s tone is teasing, and he can’t help but blush.

Rafe says the first thing that comes to his head. “It’s hard to look at someone so beautiful and not blush.”

This only makes the two of them blush more. Y/N wants to tell Rafe she thinks he’s beautiful too. She wants to ask him how they could be mean to each other one moment and all bashful the next. She wants to ask him if he’s ever felt like this with anyone else. She wants to know how he feels. But before she gets a chance to do any of that, they’re pulled apart.

JJ was going to let it go. He was going to just wait in that stupid line and get her a glass of water. He even wasn’t going to complain that Rafe and Y/N were dancing even though he was sure he would burst from jealousy. He convinced himself that Y/N was probably just trying to be polite and Rafe was the one to blame. But when he saw that Rafe had made her smile like that, a smile he had never seen her use, his blood boiled and all he saw was red. He left the line, not even saying goodbye to those snobby PTA moms, and bolted to the centre of the room where they were dancing. He knew that pulling Rafe by the collar would cause a scene. And he knew he promised himself that he was going to be on his best behaviour, but he couldn’t help himself. Rafe was not about to take the only good thing in his life right now. He cared so deeply for Y/N, and he wasn’t gonna let Rafe Cameron, of all people, ruin it. So, he did the only thing he knew; he used his fists.

Rafe choked on his collar as JJ pulled him off of Y/N. He fell backwards, a surprised gasp leaving his lips before his back hit the ground. Before Rafe could even defend himself, JJ was on top of the poor boy and punching him. The only thing Rafe could do was shield his face as JJ tried his best to punch Rafe.

Y/N was mortified. She could not believe this was happening. She had never seen JJ so angry, let alone at Rafe. Sure, JJ wasn’t the biggest fan of Kooks but to fist fight one? Besides, she couldn’t remember a time when JJ mentioned such disdain for Rafe. But that didn’t matter now. She needed to intervene.

“JJ! Stop!” She tried yelling, her voice piercing through the air. The music had stopped, and many people had begun congregating around them to see what all the fuss was about. It was no use though, even Y/N’s yelling did not stop JJ.

The only thing that stopped JJ was John B. As JJ threw his fifth punch, John B approached JJ and pulled him away from Rafe. JJ fought against John B, trying to free himself from his friend’s grasp but it was no use. John B held him in a way that was difficult for JJ to get out of.

“Let me go, bro!” JJ continued to struggle as John B’s grasp, unaware that all eyes were on him.

“Dude, stop!” John B tightened his grip on JJ.

JJ finally stopped struggling, noticing that the room got very quiet. Suddenly, his actions came rushing to him and he realized the mistake he made. When John B felt JJ relax, he finally let go. He was unsure what his friend would do but he knew he had to be there just in case.

Everyone was looking at JJ, their judgemental stares burning holes onto his skin. He felt so exposed, so embarrassed that strangers had seen him like that. But he was more worried about Y/N. He knew he made a mistake and wasn’t sure how she’d react. Knowing her, it wasn’t going to be good.

And when he looked at her, her eyes brimming with tears, he knew he had fucked up big time. She was standing off to the side, standing beside Sarah who was trying to comfort her. JJ took a few steps towards her, his face pale.

“Y/N…” JJ began, the look on his face saying it all.

But Y/N didn’t care. She just wanted one perfect night. She had never seen this side of JJ but now that she had, she was afraid. She shook her head, backing away from him. “No, leave me alone.” And with that, she turned on her heels and walked farther and farther away from him.

Sarah stood there for a moment longer, dumbfounded. “JJ, I think you need to give her some space right now.”

JJ wanted to cry. Although he was embarrassed, it didn’t matter now. He had just ruined the only good thing in his life. The dangerous pattern had finally caught up to him.

~

taglist: @tovvaa @canyoubuymetoast @multisimpinghoe @devcarlsons @pogueslandia @theywantedplayer @lovelyxtom @milkywqze

[xeulousluv]

Almost

AN: Hello everyone, I am fairly new to posting on this app, so therefore I am still learning how to use it. Hehe :) Anyways, I hope you are having a great day!

Warning: Nothing really, maybe a little bit of angst? 

Zayn and Y/n broke up and all he’s left with are the videos she took during their senior year of high school.

September 1st, 2010: 

The camera was set up in her hand as she was slightly fixing her hair, a huge smile plastered on her makeup covered face. He always thought she looked better without makeup, but sometimes you couldn’t beat the insecurities. 

“Here we are, the first day of senior year! How are we feeling, Zayn?” 

Next to her stood himself, a much younger version of himself. Two years to be exact. He was almost unrecognizabel, with his usual high school attire adoring his body. A white tee-shirt, black skinny jeans, and not to mention his varsity football jacket hanging off of his shoulders. She looked lovingly at her boyfriend, her eyelashes beating against the softness of her rounded cheeks. 

“I’m ready to get out of here, the last three years were the upmost worst years of my life.” Zayn spoke truthfully, he hadn’t expected to make it past the ninth grade, but with the help of Y/n, he managed to make it all the way to his graduating year. Y/n gave him an offended look before responding, “Hey! If it weren’t for these last three years, you would’ve never met me, let alone had the courage to talk to me. Am I really that bad?” 

She laughed out while speaking, all so he knows that she is joking and would never accuse him of thinking such things. Though, he was already two steps ahead of her and was laughing along at her sad attempt of looking offended. “Of course not, baby. You are what kept me going.” With that, Zayn kissed her temple and she let out a small giggle before stopping the camera. 

September 5th, 2010:

Random small talk was heard on the computer sitting in front of Zayn, before her face showed with a bright glow. She was so beautiful it almost hurt. She was laughing at something her friend Emery said, though it was completely inaudible, he just let the smile take over his face hearing her laugh again. 

“I don’t exactly know why I turned this on, but hello! We successfully made it through the first week of school, and let me just say, it was not fun. The teachers still hate me.” Again, Y/n laughed towards the camera. 

“I remember this one time last year when Mr. Lambert threw me out of class because I wouldn’t stop laughing. In my defence, he was talking about the safety of condoms and Zayn kept mocking him. That was a detention worth going to.” Zayn remembered that day clearly. He sat to the left of Y/n, Mr. Lambert’s first mistake, and would whisper in her ear how he would show her the proper way to wear a condom when they got to her house that night. To say he did end up showing her was an understatement. 

The camera then turned to her friend before she continued on with what she was saying, “Anyways, Emery here, has informed me about this back to school party for seniors at Anthony Stilettos house. So, we are heading to the mall so we can get a nice looking outfit for tonight. I’ll see you guys later!”  And with that the camera switched off.

He thought that was the end of the video, but when she popped back on his screen, he was pleasantly surprised. She wore a black dress that just reached her knees, the end of it rippled and flew each time she took a step. Her hair and makeup was done, and her shoes matched her dress, she really was the most beautiful person he has ever met. 

Without saying anything, Y/n moved the camera to where the view was now on Emery. She wore a simple tight red dress that fit her like a glove, she was placing bobby pins in her hair before realising a camera was watching her every move. Emery turned away from the mirror Y/n had in her room, and started making random poses into the camera. The video finally ended with Y/n facing the camera back to herself while laughing at it. 

October 7th, 2010: 

It was homecoming. Their final homecoming, and of course, Zayn asked her to be his date. He didn’t go all out like the previous years, this particular year was asked right after they finished giving each other their all. They were bunched up together, all sweaty and breathless, and that is when Zayn asked her to go to homecoming with him. He thought it was gross because of their previous activities, but Y/n thought it was sweet, endearing even. It was personal and intimate, she wouldn’t have had it any other way. Plus, she was tired of all the attention that comes with getting asked to homecoming. 

Her dress was a beautiful shade of baby yellow, Zayn wore his usual black suit but with a yellow tie and a yellow rose pinned to his coat pocket. The night couldn’t have been anymore magical. 

“Z, are you ready to go? Emmy and Dallas are waiting in the car.” Her soft voice echoed through the speakers, she was worried about being late. But more so, excited about what the night had planned for the couple. Zayn was fixing his hair, like he does any other day, however today, he wanted to look his absolute best. “Just one more second, love. Gotta look perfect before leaving these four secured walls.” 

Y/n rolled her eyes into the camera before another smile took over her face. It only got wider as he finally announced that he was ready. 

“Baby, you look handsome! You don’t need all that hair gel, make one wrong move and we’re calling you Uncle Jesse.” Zayn scoffed, his hands finding their place on her hips, him being pressed up against her back. His chin resting on her shoulder, they looked so in love. They were so in love. 

October 31st, 2010: 

Fall was Y/n’s favorite season, meaning Halloween was by far her favorite holiday. She squealed into the camera when Zayn walked out in his Peter Pan costume. “Baby, you look so fucking adorable!” She cooed, though Zayn was having none of it. “Do we have to go to this party? Can’t we just stay in and watch scary movies, I promise I will protect you if you get too scared!”

He knew it was no use, Y/n had been going on and on about Anthony’s costume party for the past week, so when she started laughing, Zayn internally groaned. “Brave of you to assume I will get scared during a horror movie. How about we go for just an hour, then you and I can come back here and watch whatever movie you want?” 

At that, his ears perked, he could go for an hour. That gives him all the more time alone with his love. “Hocus Pocus? That’s my favorite.” 

“Yes baby, we can watch Hocus Pocus, do this for me, and I’m all yours for the rest of the night.” A grin was stretched across his face as she leaned up and gave a peck to his lips. Adoration shining brightly in her eyes as she looked up at him. “You are so lucky I love you, Y/n.” 

“I love you, Zayn. More than you will ever know.” 

December 31st, 2010:

“Hola, my favorite people! Happy New Years Eve, I hope you guys are having a good day. My family is having a little party to bring in the new year, even though you won’t be watching this until later when I decide to post it, I hope you guys have an amazing holiday. Be safe now. Bye!”

Christmas and New Year’s was hard for Y/n. She had major separation anxiety for everyone she grows close to, so not being able to see the people she loves for a whole two weeks was taking a toll on her. Not to mention, Zayn went back to Bradford for the holidays, so he wasn’t there to keep her calm. All she had was the emails and messages he would send her.  

However, that night was different. She didn’t know what it was, but the air felt more intoxicating. There was something she was missing and the young girl couldn’t put her finger on it. 

Emery got ahold of Y/n’s camera without her noticing, pressing the ‘record’ button and smiling.

“Hi, as many of you may know, my name is Emery White. Before questions start racing through your head about where Y/n is, she is currently in the kitchen talking to one of her neighbors, and she knows nothing about this so, shhh!” Emery held her index finger up to her mouth, even though she is talking to a camera. 

“So, the time is now 11:58, meaning it is almost New Year’s and I got a message from a good friend of mine to get her camera and start recording. Oh wait, she’s coming over! Act normal!” 

“Emmy? Why do you have my camera, wait no, when did you get my camera?” Emery turned her neck to look at Y/n, and smiled while looking at her friends confused face. “It’s almost midnight, I figured we could record the big moment for your journal thing.” 

Y/n looked at her watch and sure enough, it was 12:59, and the people around her were counting down. By the time Y/n looked back at her friend, Emery had switched her position to behind the camera, her smile now stretching to her eyes. She gave a confused smile towards the camera before shaking her head. 

10..

9..

8..

A tap was felt on Y/n’s shoulder making her turn around, not believing her eyes, she had to do a double take. There he was in all of his glory. Zayn stood in front of her with a bouquet of random flowers, her eyes widening in complete shock. 

3..

2..

1!

Before she could fully process his presence, Zayn had planted his lips against hers in what he would call, one of their best kisses. His arms went around her waist while hers were around his neck, keeping him as close as humanly possible. She was the first to pull away from the kiss, tears forming at the bottom of her eyes but never fell. Zayn pulled her back, this time her face went into his neck as he whispered out a small, “Happy New Years, baby.” 

May 22nd, 2011: 

Senior prom, a day Y/n has waited her entire life for. Getting all dolled up for one night of perfection sounded glorious. Unlike most people, her dress doesn’t reach the floor but goes a little ways past her knees. It was a light shade of green, she wasn’t usually one for the cliche pink and blue, and her stomach was laced over showing her belly button peircing. She felt on top of the world, the most gorgeous she has ever felt in her entire life. 

Zayn was in a nude tuxedo, a lightish green tie tucked into the blazer. “It’s prom day, baby, how do you feel?” The now well-known camera placed in front of his face, though he paid no attention to it, but really the girl behind it. “Like I have the most beautiful girlfriend in the world. How did I get so lucky, hm?” 

The blush was evident on her face, he could see it perfectly now even with the camera facing him and not herself. He could still see the light in her eyes. Looking back on it, he couldn’t imagine living his life without her, how could he let her go? 

It wasn’t like they got in a fight or anything, Zayn and Y/n were going to different colleges and he didn’t want to do the whole long distance thing. He felt she deserved better than that. So even though the breakup was absolutely not a mutual agreement, Y/n somewhat understood and let him walk away. 

“You’re such the charmer, Zayn. Always got me blushing for no good reason.” 

“I would be a bad boyfriend if I didn’t.” 

Now turning the camera to face both of them, Zayn placed a kiss on her lips before turning off the camera and letting their night go on as best as it could, for it would be one of the last good memories they have. Except at the time, neither of them knew the last time would actually be the last time. 

June 4th, 2011: 

“Hey everyone, I just want to start off by saying congratulations, we made it. Graduating today was the most amazing feelings, and I’m sure you all can agree with me. The past four years have really taught me a lot, I know I sound like the Mallory Barnes, our valedictorian that gave the speech today, but I’m serious, you all have been amazing. Teachers included.” 

Y/n wasn’t in her usual attire. She was in a comfortable baggy hoodie, and that’s all you could see as her camera was propped on the desk in the corner of the room. Her hair was in a messy bun, no makeup, and her glasses were sat perfectly on her nose. What no one could notice was the slight puffiness to her eyes, the way they were red and tired. But Zayn noticed, however. When Y/n first uploaded this to her instagram, Zayn couldn’t bare to watch it, so seeing it now definitely brought back a feeling he tried too hard to push away. 

“In the past four years I have learned about friendships, I learned about love, and I learned about heartbreak. I have got to say, high school brought me some really great friendships that I will cherish forever. I am finding it very difficult to say goodbye, but we are bound to go off and do bigger and better things. The future awaits for us.” 

“I just want to thank you guys for the amazing memories, and I hope you guys make your dreams come true.” Y/n sighed into the camera, she was really bad at saying goodbye, though you would think it would be easier considering no one likes high school. However, Y/n loved every single second of it, maybe not the learning but the memories made.

“Now, I am going to get really sappy for a minute and say a massive thank you to the man who has loved me for the past four years. Zayn, I know we haven’t talked in a few weeks, and you’re probably not even watching this, but just know that I am so proud of you.  I don’t know how I could not be. I really hope you make something wonderful of yourself. You were by far my favorite part of this journey. Thank you for sticking with me and for loving me. And even though we aren’t together anymore, I love you.”

“We almost had it all, didn’t we?” 

AN: Yeah, I don't think I like this babahahah. Love the concept but someone out there could definitely write it better. 

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Speak Now | Quackity

Requested? Never

Warnings? None?

Summary: You have to watch your best friend and secret crush get married. (Based off Speak Now by Taylor Swift!)

Word Count: 1,581

Alex holds the velvet box out to you, flipping it open to show an elegant wedding ring. Your eyes flip back and forth from the ring to Alex, a nervous smile spread across his lips.

“Do you like it?” he asks.

Honestly, you didn’t know. You didn’t know if you liked the ring, didn’t know if you could tell Alex through tight lips and locked jaw that his girlfriend would love it. You didn’t know if you could lie straight through your teeth.

Instead, you wanted to tell him that the ring was perfect but he was giving it to the wrong girl. That he should be showing you the ring while asking the question you had dreamed of for so long.

But unfortunately, that’s not how things work.

You had been in love with your best friend for years now and while you never took Alex for someone who was clueless, he certainly challenged that when it came to your feelings. It was like he became blind to your compliments, your loyalty, your selflessness, your attention, your physical touch, everything. You swore he just thought of it as being “good friends”.

So, the minute he pulled out a diamond ring for his girlfriend, your heart couldn’t help but shatter the little bit left holding out for Alex.

“It’s gorgeous,” you tell him and relief visibly floods through him.

“I’m so excited,” he says, leaning forward and wrapping you up in a hug.

“Me too,” you say quietly into his shoulder, holding back tears.

In the days following, you watched as Alex announced his engagement to you, your friends, and all of his fans. When the notification graced your phone, you couldn’t help but cry. You had become used to Alex not returning your feelings but this? This was permanent and real, and a reminder that Alex didn’t love you the way you loved him.

However, as all best friends do, you put on a smile. You accepted when he asked you to be a part of his wedding party and excitedly planned along with him, taking a piece of your heart out and giving it to Alex every chance and him walking over it unknowingly.

The months leading up to the wedding were excruciating. And you were shocked when they only got worse.

“(y/n)?” Alex asks one day.

You look up at him, nerves coursing through you as he looks at you with worried eyes. Your heart falls, somehow knowing and having no clue what the next words out of his mouth would be.

He sits next to you, his focus on the carpet before him, toeing at the fabric with his foot nervously. He glances at you for a moment as his hands come together in front of him. Everything about him screams anxiety, and you want to rub his back and tell him that everything is going to be okay.

“You,” he hesitates and for a moment you think he’s crying, but convince yourself it’s the terrible lighting in your apartment.

“You can’t come to the wedding,” he finally chokes out.

Your head tilts, and for a moment it feels like someone wrapped a hand around your heart and squeezed.

“Wha-“ you start but Alex talks over you, word vomiting like no tomorrow.

“Claire said she would feel uncomfortable with you there and wants me to take a step back from our friendship.”

Alex’s eyes flicker from the ground he’s so fixated on, to your blank expression. You felt like this was one big prank. That it had to be a joke being uninvited to your best friend’s wedding. While you knew your heart would be cracking and falling to pieces at the altar in front of you when you saw Alex get married, you still didn’t want to miss your best friend’s big life event.

You’re utterly speechless, as Alex apologizes once more, before pressing a kiss to the top of your head and leaving. You sit in the same position, rethinking the conversation for what feels like hours.

Alex felt like he left his heart in that apartment with you. He felt like he had severed a limb, and it was missing after telling you the news about his wedding. Truly, you meant everything to him. You were the girl who had captured his heart and would entrust you with it forever, knowing you’d never do anything to hurt him.

And yet that’s all he was doing to you and himself. He wished all of those years ago he had said something, done something, manned up, and just admitted it to you. But here he was, feeling like he needed to go through with this to hold a semblance of happiness in the future.

You had finally snapped yourself out of the shock, your body moving without really thinking about the motions. You find yourself calling Karl, your best friend who knew everything about the situation between you and Alex. He was even the one to introduce the two of you.

You explain what happened in quiet sentences, Karl insisting he’ll be over in a flash. It’s true, it feels like you’re up and answering the door in the next few minutes to a pity-stricken Karl.

“Honey,” he frowns, pulling you into a tight hug.

“I don’t want to see him get married but I don’t want to miss it,” you whine and Karl’s frown deepens.

“They gave me a plus one, just come with me,” he decides and you look up at him, hope in your eyes.

“I’m sure as hell not going alone and definitely not going without you there,” you giggle lightly and lean up to press a kiss to Karl’s cheek.

As the day of the wedding approaches, you and Alex talk less and less. He had distanced himself ever since breaking the news to you and you had half hated it and half appreciated it. You were able to nurse your heartbreak and prepare yourself for one of the hardest days.

On the day of the wedding, you get ready with a hint of nerves. Your hands shake putting your earrings in, and it’s practically impossible to fasten your heels. Just as you’re attempting to put on a necklace, the doorbell rings. You sigh, heading over and swinging it open to see Karl standing before you.

You take in his appearance, a soft smile crossing your lips as you hold out the necklace in front of you.

“Can you help?”

Karl doesn’t respond at first, scanning your body up and down in awe. You had picked out a pale pink dress, white heels, and scarce jewelry but you look stunning nonetheless.

“Holy smokes,” he breathes out.

“Oh shut up,” you joke but smile wide at your friend regardless.

Karl finally takes the necklace from your hands, pulling it around your neck and fastening it till it sits just right. His hands trail over your shoulders, squeezing them lightly before dropping his hands.

“Ready?”

“As I ever will be.”

The venue is gorgeous, nothing less for the bride. You and Karl make your way in, your eyes wandering about the room and taking in the details. You find her family sitting in the front row, annoyed looks matching their obnoxious outfits. You try not to frown as you see people greeting each other fondly, speaking fond words about the future husband and wife.

You find seats together and Karl watches you as your face falls, hearing the sound of the wedding march. The music is grating on your ears, another reminder that you never wanted to be here in the first place.

Everyone begins to stand, and you turn to look at the girl who had stolen your best friend’s heart. She floats down the aisle like a pageant queen, her dress flowing behind her. You risk a glance at Alex and find he’s already staring at you.

Alex was shocked when he saw you sitting with his best friend at his wedding. His heart seized at the sight of you in a beautiful dress, and his mind wanders to how you would look in a wedding dress, walking towards him now.

It feels like the wedding goes by in a blur, your heart shattering slowly, piece by piece as vows are exchanged.

“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace,”

It’s dead silent as the preacher looks over the crowd, and without a second thought, you stand. From next to you Karl’s eyes widen and you feel your hands shake as you look at Alex. The rest of the crowd stares up at you with horrified looks, and you half expect someone to yell at you to sit back down.

“I am not the kind of girl who should be doing this,” you start your eyes never leaving Alex’s.

“But you are not the kind of boy, who should be marrying the wrong girl,” you finish.

The entire crowd is in an uproar, the only person on your side being Karl who cheers loudly at your proclamation. Alex steps towards you and you make your way out of the aisle. He approaches you, uncertainty is in his eyes.

“Don’t say yes, run away with me, make the right choice,” you whisper, and his look of uncertainty falls into one of careful consideration.

“Okay,” he says and a smile widens onto your lips.

“Let’s go.”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

dreaming in reality, m | myg, jjk

pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook

summary: The wrong guy shows up in your car – Jeon Jungkook. Again. He’s less drunk this time, but no less weird. Then the right guy shows up. Min Yoongi. You know, the guy you fucked in Jungkook’s bed that one time. Guess he can convince you to do anything. Like, say, take Jungkook’s virginity. Don’t worry, he’ll help.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, tiny bit of crack; alcohol consumption; violence? someone gets slapped lol; technically Jungkook’s first time; smut (fem reader, threesome, slightly degrading dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, f-receiving oral, penetrative sex, partial handjob); non-idol!AU - friends with benefits / lovers? with Yoongi; Yoongi is a very bad boy and he knows it; JK is blond and wearing his ‘ON’ and ‘Dynamite’ GDA 2021 outfits (except w/o the white blazer)

a–dick–ted au yes that’s what I’ve decided to call this this was supposed to be just more Yoongi smut but then Jungkook decided he’d like this to be about him, what can you do?

--

"Can you pick me up tonight?"

"Mhm. What are you wearing?"

A deep chuckle. "Eager to undress me?"

"I'm doing you a favor. There's no guarantee you'll get more than that."

"Hmmm." That low raspy voice did not believe you. "White dress shirt, black jeans. Can't miss me."

He hung up. 

White shirt, black jeans. You remembered to lock your car doors this time, so you turned around to press the button so he could get in. The door opened and the young man slid inside, reeking of alcohol. Wait. Some kind of belt harness around a thin waist. Ashy blond hair. Hand tattoos. Thick thighs. Chiseled jaw.

Fuck!

Again?

"I need to talk to you, noona."

"Get out."

Jeon Jungkook was not as drunk as before. He was definitely drunk, but not piss drunk like last time. His eyes were unfocused and he was nervously biting his pink lower lip. The mole underneath bounced up and down as he chewed it mercilessly. He swallowed and undid the first few buttons of his shirt, revealing his tan, muscular pecs. Oh, thank the Lord, Jungkook remembered to wear a shirt underneath, although it was a very low-cut white t-shirt. He kept running his hand through his currently blond hair tensely, revealing the shadow root. Well, it was well done at least. He had a good hairstylist. You hadn't realized Jungkook changed it, so he must have done it recently.

Probably to get attention and remind every human being that he was hot.

Blergh.

You still weren't convinced he wasn't a dirty little fuckboy.

"Why are you sitting in my car showing off your nervous ticks?" you said irritably.

"I gotta ask you something."

His black boots were a little dirty from the party. Outside, the drunks were as loud as ever, with the same seven girls on the porch craning their heads to gawk at Jungkook in your car. Different house, same scene, and drunk Jeon Jungkook sitting in your passenger's seat, once again being the wrong guy sauntering into your car. 

Where the fuck was the correct guy?

"Look, psycho, fucking spit it out or yeet. I'm not repeating what happened last time."

Jungkook's dark brown eyes flickered to you, turning his body to face yours. Running his tattooed right hand through his bleached hair over and over, spreading the golden strands, the ashy tone catching the low light of the lampposts. Jaw flexed, tiny pink tongue darting out and licking his lips. He was a little sweaty, cheeks hollowed in a little with how hard he was breathing. 

You raised an eyebrow. 

"You have ten seconds before I kick you out and believe me when I say I have leg strength."

"Are you and Yoongi-hyung dating?" Jungkook asked suddenly. 

What?

"What?"

You made a face at him.

He sucked in a breath, brows furrowing at your response. “Because I could have sworn…”

Your mind flickered back to that faithful night. Shit. You shouldn’t have let Min Yoongi convince you to sleep right there in Jungkook’s apartment. You remembered his wicked smirk, his deep, raspy voice in your ear, Jungkook’s not going to know and don’t you want to do bad things with me? Don’t you want to be bad with me? He could make you do anything at this point. You two fell asleep on Jungkook’s bed. Next to hungover Jungkook.

Naked.

You mentally slapped yourself.

“What made you come to that conclusion?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes.

Jungkook tilted his head, sucking in his cheek. It made a sharp sound and his tongue flashed against his white teeth for a split second. You almost flinched. He pursed his lips and kept his gaze on you. You were wearing a tight white high-necked crop top, oversized black hoodie, and high-waisted black shorts. Dark pink and violent violet chunky sneakers. Almost no makeup. Hair tied back into low pigtails with one pink and one purple scrunchie to match your sneakers.

Oh shit. The hoodie wasn’t yours.

Hopefully Jungkook wasn’t perceptive enough to figure that out.

“Noona.”

He said it strangely, breathlessly. Almost sexually. You recoiled a little. Jungkook was leaning forward, giving you a clear view down his shirt, blond hair falling into his face, covering one eye. His alcoholic breath floating towards you, far too close for your liking.

“I…” Jungkook swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I want… to…”

The door to your passenger’s seat was roughly yanked open.

Jungkook jumped, throwing his back into the seat, brown eyes wide and staring at the newcomer. White dress shirt, two sizes too big, with ties at the wrists to cinch in the bishop-style sleeves. Black jeans, distressed with several mismatched patches. Silver chains on his black leather belt and around his pale neck. Black hair, pointed dark eyes like a cat.

A single, cocked eyebrow.

“Let me guess,” drawled Min Yoongi, the correct guy you were supposed to be picking up, looking from you to Jeon Jungkook, who was impossibly flat against the car seat. Yoongi sounded amused. “He just waltzed in.”

You narrowed your eyes. “No, I locked my doors this time.”

Yoongi’s gaze flickered to Jungkook, who still seemed mildly terrified, and then back to you. The glint in his dark brown eyes was far from innocent. His fair cheeks were a little pink.

“Ah, so you wanted Jungkook in your car?” There was an edge to his voice, almost dangerous, but to you it was Yoongi’s usual teasing. Jungkook looked like he was preparing for his own death. Both of you ignored him for the moment.

“You said white dress shirt and black jeans,” you scowled. You gestured Jungkook up and down. “Hello?”

Jungkook’s thighs tensed and bulged against his tight jeans. Eyes still as wide as saucers. He hadn’t blinked in a good thirty seconds.

“We have the same excellent taste and style. How fortunate for you,” Yoongi purred. Then he finally patted Jungkook’s thigh, making him start and let out a panicked squeak. “You want noona to drop you off, Jungkookie? She’d be happy to.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” you gritted out.

“Yes, she would,” Yoongi said cheerfully. He slammed the front car door and opened the backseat. You rolled your eyes and stared straight ahead. Even from here you could smell the whiskey. Yoongi hummed and you snuck a glance at him through the rearview mirror.

He looked positively beside himself with glee.

Hmph. Fine.

His loss.

“You bleached your hair, Jungkook?” Yoongi said absentmindedly as you started up the car.

Jungkook ran a hand through it once again. “Uh, yeah. What do you think, hyung?”

“Hm, looks good. Too much upkeep for me, personally. Seatbelt.”

Jungkook hastily went to grab his seatbelt and put it on. Too bad. You were ready to brake hard and send him flying out the windshield. Just kidding. Maybe. Well, you would have to be going real fucking fast for that to happen. Maybe over ninety or some shit. You pulled out of the neighborhood of houses, already knowing what direction to go in to the correct apartment complex. Yoongi and Jungkook lived in the same building.

So convenient.

You thinned your lips into a line, ignoring their conversation, until Yoongi snapped his fingers and called your name to get your attention. You glared at him through the rearview mirror. Yoongi’s legs were wide open, flopped in your backseat. He grinned at you and placed his hands on the inside of his jean-covered thighs.

Fucking tease.

“What?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to dye your hair at some point?”

You shrugged. “Yeah.”

Jungkook sat up, looking at you. You didn’t look at him. “Oh? You’re going blond too?”

You snorted. “I said I wanted to dye my hair, which means a color.”

“What color?” Yoongi asked lazily.

Your eyes flickered to him in the rearview mirror again. He flexed his long fingers and pressed them against his jeans. You tucked your tongue in your cheek. Yoongi was aware Jungkook couldn’t see him and he was also aware you were watching him. Your eyes went back to the road.

Yoongi was also aware that because of Jungkook’s presence, neither of you were getting any tonight, so he resorted to teasing you like the bad boy he was.

“I dunno. Pick one for me,” you said impassively.

Yoongi chuckled, a deep, husky sound, revealing his pink gums and straight white teeth.

“Red.”

-

“N-noona?”

You curled your lip, looking around you. Ugh. You hated parties like this. So loud, so annoying, so many idiots. You didn’t understand why Yoongi came to these things. It was probably because of his lively friends. Being social like this was probably a great thing, but this was not your scene.

“No time to chat, Jungkook. Have you seen Yoongi?”

Jungkook was flapping his gums at you. He was still blond. He must be keeping up with his hair care because it still looked soft and ashy. It was swept to one side this night. Powder blue dress shirt, tight against his muscular pecs and white slacks that seemed to be choking his thighs. Brave man, wearing white around this much alcohol and lunacy.

You had to admit, Jeon Jungkook had guts looking like a prince to a peasant’s party.

“Where is he?” you muttered. “Kim Seokjin called and told me to get him because he was asleep.”

“U-uh…” Jungkook looked around as you stepped into the party house, your heavy black boots thudding against the hardwood floor. Short black skirt with silver chains and a black hoodie that said ‘WHATCHU MEAN?’ in neon lime green across your chest. Phone and keys in your hoodie pocket. Other than that, you weren’t wearing anything as of note. Oh.

Except.

Your usual ‘fuck off’ mentality.

“I haven’t s-seen him in the past hour,” Jungkook stammered.

“Fat lot of help you are.” You clicked your tongue and moved past him.

“You dyed your hair,” Jungkook blurted suddenly.

You turned your head and looked back at him. “Yeah, so?”

Your hair was now a gradient from a long black shadow root, to dark purple berry, to bright neon red. It was half-tied up with a black scrunchie, a few strands hanging around your face. Jungkook kept staring at it. You raised an eyebrow and turned away from him. Eh, you had no time for this. You needed to grab Yoongi and get the fuck out of here.

“I-I’ll look you help.”

You raised your eyebrows as Jungkook squeezed past you, his hard back pressing against your arm.

“You can’t even speak, you drunkard,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I mean, I’ll help y-you look, noona,” Jungkook corrected himself, licking his lips nervously, running his right hand through his hair.

He’s hopeless.

Well, better than going alone.

Wordlessly, you followed him throughout the party, opening doors and craning your head over the bodies. So many topless people. Ugh, it was pretty late. By the time you two reached the back of the house, you never wanted to see another nipple ever again. You saw Kim Seokjin at the karaoke machine, blasting eardrums with what you assumed were supposed to be high notes, but, in reality, was simply screaming.

You didn’t even want to walk up to him to ask.

“He might be upstairs,” Jungkook said, swallowing hard.

“Lead the way,” you sighed, annoyed this was taking longer than it needed to.

You made your way up the stairs, pressing yourself against the railing to avoid touching people. Kept your hands in your kangaroo pocket and a scowl on your face. Jungkook suddenly stopped and you collided into him. Fuck. Why did he feel like he was made out of rocks? Stupid muscles.

“Hold on.”

Some guy was sprawled all over the middle of the hallway, unconscious.

“I’ll just step over him.”

Jungkook growled. “No. What if he wakes up and looks up your skirt?” He bent over and picked him up, propping him against the wall. You raised an eyebrow. Like anyone cared what was up your skirt besides Min Yoongi. Whatever. If he wanted to play the part of noble prince, you weren’t going stop him. You waited as Jungkook pushed the guy’s chin down to his chest and motioned you to the hall, towards the many doors. Probably mostly bedrooms. You winced. Probably going to see more nipples. And dicks. And pussy.

Sigh.

And, yep, you were right.

Jungkook tried to shield your eyes, but to be honest, he looked way more scarred than you. You merely shook your head and moved on, door to door. Opened one and saw a girl in a tight black dress crawling on a bed, over a guy in a black biker jacket and acid wash jeans. The hole in the knee was so big you could see half of his pale leg. Hmph. Why bother even wearing pants?

You were about to close the door when you paused. Wait. You’ve seen that black mop of hair before. The girl was kissing down his neck, yanking down the white t-shirt and ripping it. You recognized the grunt of sleepy annoyance.

“Get off him.”

The girl shot up; red lipstick smeared from making out with his neck. You stepped inside and jerked your head towards the door. Voice cold and unrelenting.

“Out.”

She furrowed her brows at you. “Who the fuck are you?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Doesn’t matter. Dude’s asleep. You shouldn’t take advantage of someone who’s asleep.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” she shot back defiantly.

You snorted inelegantly. “No, he’s not. Don’t be stupid.”

The girl shoved herself off the bed, advancing on you, nasty snarl on her lips. “How would you know? Who do you think you are?”

“Not an idiot,” you barked sharply, completely forgetting Jungkook was behind you, gawking at this entire exchange. You looked her up and down and took a step towards her, the aggravation of the past hour reaching breaking point. All that time spent getting here, not being able to find Yoongi, and then discovering some bitch crawling all over him was pissing you off. Like everyone else, alcohol clung to her like the plague. She was furious, ready to catfight you, although you were pretty sure you were going to win this one because you were sober and your boots were a lot more stable than her tall heels.

“Look here, bitch, leave me and my boyfriend alo–”

You slapped her.

Hard.

Not holding back, not making a sound, just straight up slapped her across the face. The sound was so loud it could be heard over the bass of the music. She nearly crumpled at the force, gasping and choking at air as she stumbled, eyes wide in disbelief, slim hand cradling her face.

“He’s not your boyfriend,” you growled. Your voice was absolute zero with how cold it was. “He will never be your boyfriend. Now get the fuck out of my face before I rearrange yours into the next century.”

She squeaked at you.

Your eyes narrowed and you raised your hand again. She bolted, stumbling on her heels, seeing Jungkook staring, opening her mouth to say something, but you made an inhuman, grating noise deep in your throat. Her shaking eyes connected with yours and you cocked your head in the direction of the door, popping your neck loudly.

She scrambled out of there like her life depended on it.

It did, because you had enough at this point.

“Dumb bitch,” you spat, before releasing the tension from your shoulders. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jungkook’s mouth wide open, deer-in-headlights look on his face. “What?”

“W… Why do you look so hot when you’re angry?”

You scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

“Fuck, you are damn hot when you’re angry.”

Deep, raspy voice that made your spine tingle. You turned your head to see Min Yoongi on his elbows, licking his pink lips. He was definitely drunker this time, cheeks flushed. His fair skin on his neck and cheeks were covered in red lipstick marks. You clicked your tongue at him.

“When did you wake up?”

Yoongi smirked.

You frowned.

“Maybe when you slapped her.” His dark eyes glittered in the low light of the bedroom, lips curving higher and revealing his teeth. “Maybe when you got her attention.” Full-on, open-mouthed smirk now, devilish and wicked. “Maybe when you opened the door.”

A muscle in your forehead twitched. You strode over, looking down. Yoongi slowly lifted his head, pink tongue sliding out and tracing his teeth, cocking an eyebrow. You clenched your jaw.

“I like your hair,” Yoongi purred softly. “You took my advice.”

“I didn’t care what color it was,” you responded evenly. “I left the hairstylist do what she wanted.”

Yoongi arched an eyebrow. “She made your hair match your body. Hot and sexy.”

You matched his raised brow. “You saying my hair wasn’t attractive before?”

Crafty dark brown eyes on yours, intoxicating you like whiskey.

“It always needed me to mess it up before it was truly as sexy as you.”

“Are you guys sure you’re not dating?”

Oh right.

Jungkook was still here.

You turned your head to face him. You hadn’t even noticed that he had walked all the way up to the bed, standing next to you. The door was closed. Who closed it? It was also locked. Your brows furrowed and your eyes flickered back to Jungkook. He was watching you, blond hair covering one chocolate orb, pink lips wet and slightly parted. Tan skin radiant in the low light.

“What are you still doing here?”

His visible eye shifted down your body, pausing at your legs and then shifting to Yoongi. Yoongi gave him a neutral expression. The eyes shifted back to you.

“I was going to help you carry him if hyung was still asleep.” His voice had dropped several octaves.

“Well, he’s obviously awake,” you said dismissively.

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, more blond hair sliding down, shadowing his face.

“You want me to leave so you can fuck him? Or so he can fuck you?” Jungkook accused.

You raised your eyebrows.

“I told you he liked you.”

You exhaled, shifting your gaze to Yoongi. He was wiping the lipstick off his neck with the collar of his ruined shirt. He looked displeased, nose scrunching as he did so.

“Wanting me to desire him is not the same as liking someone.” You swung your head back to Jungkook, ticking your chin at him. “Isn’t that so, Jungkook?”

There was a moment of silence.

If silence could be bass-boosted music, screaming downstairs, and a bottle smashing somewhere nearby. But in this random bedroom, it was as if time stopped, you staring at Jungkook, Yoongi looking up to witness what was about to unfold, and your slow realization that Jungkook was not answering fast enough.

The younger man shook his blond bushel of hair very, very slowly.

“No, noona.”

His other eye was revealed, both of them trained on you.

“I want you to take my virginity.”

Silence.

He must be joking.

“And there it is, out in the open,” Yoongi mused.

Jungkook continued, hands in his pockets, chest sticking out from under the tight blue dress shirt.

“Hyung knows this. I told him.”

You let out a soft breath. “You know, Jungkook, you could get any bitch in this house.”

“Don’t want a bitch,” Jungkook retorted, dangerous edge to his voice, slipping into his Busan satoori. “Want you, noona.”

He was way too serious to not mean it. You tucked your hands into your hoodie pocket and flicked your head to remove red strands from your face. 

"Kinda out of left field, kid," you muttered.

You heard Yoongi sit up on the bed and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. He shook his shoulders out and hooked his legs over the edge of the bed, sandwiching one of your thighs between his own. His shirt hung down, ruined and covered with red lipstick from where he tried to wipe it off his neck and cheeks. His neck was pink with irritation.

"Not really," Yoongi chuckled. "He's been eyeing you for a while now. You never noticed because you're too busy being crabby."

He wasn't touching you with his hands and insulting your character instead.

"Speak for yourself, grump."

Yoongi squeezed your thigh with his and you involuntarily shuddered at the slight skin on skin contact due to the giant hole in his pants. Shit. Yoongi snickered. 

"Are you guys dating?" Jungkook snapped irritably.

"No."

Both Yoongi and you said it at the same time, glaring at each other. Jungkook might as well have been a lamp. You stared deep into those mischievous brown orbs, black hair messy and covering his brows, teasing smile on his lips. Dating wasn’t the word for it. You weren’t sure there was a word for what Yoongi and you were doing. You could tell he didn’t know either.

It wasn’t dating, that’s for sure.

"Did you guys fuck on my bed or not?"

Before you could respond, Yoongi broke your gaze and looked straight at Jungkook. Jungkook's jaw was clenched tight, dark eyes flashing. Yoongi's voice was slipping into his Daegu satoori as well, deepening and slightly slurred from whiskey. 

"We did."

You clicked your tongue.

Great. Just great. 

"Ate her out and fucked her hard, all over your sheets. Right next to you. She even touched you."

"An accident," you hissed. 

Yoongi ignored you. "Her hand slid up your abs and chest." He chuckled. "It was sexy. You have a nice body, Jungkookie."

"Stop telling him this shit." You raised your hand to smack Yoongi in the arm but he whipped his head back to you, grabbing your wrist out of the air. You stiffened at the touch. He turned your palm to face Jungkook and directed his attention back to him. 

"This hand, in fact."

Were you surprised? No. That was the game. Push the limits, up the ante. You just didn’t think Yoongi would tell Jungkook something like that. Maybe he wouldn’t if he was fully sober. But Yoongi wouldn’t regret it either. He would roll with the wave, as usual.

You were a little irked that you weren’t the one who took the plunge first.

You finally snuck a glance at Jungkook. His jaw was no longer tense and his cheeks were flushed pink. He raised his head to look at you, blond locks swinging, and you looked away. Fucking Yoongi. Always trying to cause trouble. But that's why you kept fucking him. Because he was always finding ways to make your life interesting. 

Maybe you were addicted to the adrenaline he gave you.

Maybe you were just addicted to Yoongi. 

You sensed movement. You tried to pull your wrist out of Yoongi's grasp but he held it tightly. You finally looked back to glare at him, only to be greeted by the sight of Jungkook's blue shirt mostly unbuttoned, his sculpted abs and chest fully on display. Your eyes widened, taking a step back, realizing how close he was. Yoongi yanked you back, grin on his lips. 

A beat passed. 

Your gaze locked with his. 

Don't you dare, Min Yoongi. 

He planted your hand on Jungkook's torso. 

You tried to twist away, but Yoongi held you there, pressing your palm into Jungkook's hard muscles. The younger man sucked in a breath, surveying you through his lashes. A strange shiver traveled from your hand to your spine, pooling down to your core, setting it aflame. Yoongi slid your hand up to Jungkook's pecs. You could feel how hot and heavy Jungkook's breathing was on the back of your hand. His heartbeat raced under your fingers. 

You gulped. 

"Yoongi." Your eyes were on Jungkook and his blown-out pupils, blond bangs all over his forehead. Your pulse roared in your ears. "You said he was sappy. That it had to be the love of his life."

Yoongi chuckled. 

"Noona," Jungkook replied for him in his husky voice. "I’ve been planning for it to be you."

Your eyes flickered back to Yoongi. His other arm slid around your legs, pulling you to him. He made you breathless, looking down into those devilish eyes, pink lips parting a little. You could feel his hand on your thigh, stroking your skin, making you tremble with his touch.

"He asked you to take it," Yoongi purred softly. 

You inhaled deeply. Whiskey. Leather. Yoongi. Your hand was still on Jungkook's chest. You dug your nails into his skin a little. Jungkook moaned, breathy and deep. 

"I'm not taking anything," you whispered. 

Yoongi's hand released your wrist and slid up the back of your hand, each of his long fingers sliding between yours, pressing your joined touch into Jungkook’s chest. Fingers spread over his skin, his breathing vibrating though your palm. All Jungkook had to do was take a step back. 

Why wasn't he taking a step back?

Yoongi squeezed your fingers with his. You could feel the heat building inside you. Desire. His voice became smokey. Lustful. Purring your name softly. 

He could make you do anything when his voice became like that. 

"I'm telling you to take it."

Your mouth went dry.

"Why?"

Yoongi leaned forward, resting his chin right between your covered breasts. So close. Your heartbeat fluttered. Fuck, you wanted to kiss him so very much. You wanted to kiss that naughty mouth, the mouth suggesting sinful and treacherous ideas. Whenever you were with Yoongi, danger always seemed like a good thing.

"Because you feel good when you do bad things."

God, Min Yoongi was a bad boy. 

"And I love watching you do bad things."

Dark orbs glittering with trouble. 

"I’m here with you."

I’m here with you.

His arm around your legs tightened. Your panties were absolutely soaked. Yoongi had you right where he wanted you. He knew it too, even as you pursed your lips. Yoongi finally looked away from you.

"You don't mind that, right, Jungkookie?"

Jungkook shook his head quickly. "No, hyung. Whatever..." He paused, knowing what he was about to say was wrong. His eyes flickered to you. You didn’t look at him. You just stared at the black pile of hair that was Min Yoongi.

Wondering what was going on in that head of his.

"Whatever it takes."

Yoongi removed his hand from Jungkook’s chest. You pulled yours back quickly, still not looking at Jungkook. Yoongi placed his large hands on your hips. Raised his head. Fuck. Trapping you in his devious eyes. He mouthed words at you. So sexy. So fuckable. You mouthed words back. You’re bad. Yoongi grinned, licking his teeth.

“Stand in front of us, Jungkook.”

And Yoongi spun you around to face him, pushing you into his arms. Jungkook’s hands gripped your upper arms, holding you in place. And, for once, Jungkook wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t stumbling into your car by mistake, he wasn’t reeking of alcohol and nervous ticks. If anything.

Jungkook smelled good.

You were staring into his tan chest. Slowly, you looked up. Up his pecs, up his prominent collarbones, up his shapely neck. You could smell the cologne, fresh like clean laundry mixed with the sharpness of the sea. Your eyes continued up, up his sharp jaw, up to the tiny mole under his lower lip, up to his high cheekbones, up into those chocolate orbs. His blond hair hovered over his eyes, shrouding them with gold. Jungkook sucked in a breath as you made eye contact. You cocked an eyebrow.

“I still don’t see why it has to be me.”

Jungkook licked his lips, leaning in.

“Has to be you, noona,” he whispered, breath hot against your lips.

For some reason your heart was beating fast now. Was it Yoongi’s hands sliding down to your thighs, squeezing them? Or was it Jeon Jungkook, pupils dilated and grip tight on your arms, nearly shirtless in front of you?

“I dream about you,” Jungkook breathed. “All the time. The only woman I’ve ever dreamed about touching me, teasing me, feeling all of me.” He frowned a little, tilting his head. “I had sex dreams before, but none of them felt real. None of them were like the ones I had with you. The ones with you were always extremely detailed. It was like all the things you did were really happening. I could finish with them.”

You didn’t have to guess what that meant.

“I could feel everything.”

Jungkook pressed his forehead against yours, ash blond strands mixing with dark red.

“Your nails digging into my skin, you moaning above me.”

His eyes burned with determination. Yoongi’s hands slid up your legs, fingertips sliding under your soaking panties. You were so distracted by Jungkook’s words that you barely felt it. But your body remembered. Your body remembered that orgasm right above Jungkook, Yoongi’s tongue inside you, your hand on his abs, nails curling into them as you came. Jungkook’s voice was so low that it felt as if your heartbeat was resonating with it.

“Make my dreams real.”

Yoongi circled your clit with his index finger, not touching it, making you gasp.

“Taint me, noona,” Jungkook murmured.

You pressed your lips against his and Yoongi pressed his finger against your clit. You whimpered into Jungkook’s mouth, hand slipping inside his shirt to hold his waist, kissing him deeper. Jungkook’s hand came up to cup your face, holding you close as you moaned, feeling Yoongi stroke your sensitive bundle of nerves slowly, working you up. His other hand was holding your ass, squeezing it hard. In comparison, Jungkook’s lips were soft, tongue hesitantly sliding into your lips. You latched around it, sucking on it roughly. Jungkook squeaked, trying to pull away, but you held on, tugging as you bobbed your head back and forth, eyes cracking open as you moaned deep in your throat.

Jungkook was staring at you, fascinated.

You released his tongue and snaked yours into his mouth. Pushing it in, sliding it back out, steadily and deliberately. Jungkook’s eyelashes fluttered, pressing his body into yours, needy cries in his chest, trying to get more. Pleasure spread throughout your hips, spurred upward by Yoongi’s touch. You felt heady and tense, increasing the force you were using to fuck Jungkook’s mouth, breathing in shallow gasps, closing your eyes again, so close, so close. So wrong, making out with Jungkook as Yoongi stimulated your clit to orgasm.

So wrong, but so, so fucking good.

You sucked your tongue back and moaned directly into Jungkook’s mouth as you came, legs shaking, clit throbbing against Yoongi’s fingers as your panties soaked even more, the scent of sex suddenly prominent in this random bedroom. Jungkook gasped, body shuddering and shaking at your exhale, roughly shoving you into his hard chest. Your crotch hit his and you could feel his erection through his tight pants.

The party kept thriving, bass booming the walls, blind to the events about to unfold.

Jungkook drew back, panting. You felt Yoongi withdraw his hand, heard him lick it off. But you were staring at Jungkook, at his swollen lips, at his blue shirt half-pulled off from your touch, revealing his right shoulder covered in black tattoos, blond hair covering half his face.

Beautiful and dangerous, like an angelic incubus.

You felt Yoongi’s hands on your hips again, unzipping your skirt. Slipping it down. Your body reacted, kicking it away. Jungkook’s eyes were fixated on your black panties, pushed to one side from Yoongi’s touch, soaked with your juices.

“Take off your shirt, Jungkook,” Yoongi said as he reached down to unzip your boots.  

Jungkook yanked his shirt out of his pants and tossed it aside, watching Yoongi slowly strip you. Taking your boots and setting them next to the bed, gripping your hoodie and yanking it over your head. You made a disgruntled noise, but he dumped it next to him, showing you the phone and keys were still in the center pocket. You frowned at him, but Yoongi shrugged, unhooking your black bra. You held onto it, covering yourself. Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

“Let him see the tits.”

You clicked your tongue. Then you turned back to face Jungkook, challenging him.

“Jungkook can come and see for himself.”

Jungkook swallowed, taking a step towards you. Chewing on his lip, eyes fixated on your hands holding up your bra. You felt Yoongi’s fingers hook around the sides of your panties. Jungkook stopped right in front of you. Reached forward and gripped one of the bra cups. You held tight, not letting go. Jungkook’s jaw tensed and he yanked at it, pulling it out of your grasp.

You lowered your hands.

“Fuck…” Jungkook breathed. “They’re prettier than I thought.” His hand raised, but then he stopped, looking at you hesitantly. “Can I… touch them?”

You arched a brow. “Never touched tits before?”

“I want to ask you,” Jungkook replied softly. “I want to know you want it too.”

Chocolate eyes framed in gold, enchanting you.

You reached up and took his wrist, guiding his hand to your chest. You were breathing hard, making them bounce a little. Pressed his palm into your hard nipple, shivering at the different hand, the different feeling. You felt Yoongi slide your panties down, down. You slid Jungkook’s hand down, wrapping his fingers around your nipple. He gasped, rolling the nub between his fingers, watching your face as you moaned, Yoongi’s fingers crawling between your legs once again.

You pointed to your other nipple.

“Mouth, here.” Stared into Jungkook’s ravenous eyes. “Please.”

Jungkook bent down and licked your nipple, coating it with saliva. Your hand slid up the back of his head, tangling in the soft blond locks, pulling him closer.

“More, Jungkook…”

He whimpered your name, pinching your nipple as you said his. You gasped softly as his lips closed around your nipple, sucking lightly, tongue pressed against the tip and moving it around, rubbing the other at the same time. You sank your teeth into your lower lip as you felt Yoongi slide two fingers into you, so easy because he had made you cum beforehand, fucking you as Jungkook made out with your tits. You stared down Jungkook’s muscular back, admiring the way his muscles rippled as he moved. Your hips bucked in Yoongi’s hand, leaning forward so he could finger you deeper, shoving your nipple into Jungkook’s mouth. He sucked hard, nipping lightly, and you threw your head back, pleasure flowing all over. Jungkook switched sides and hands, rubbing your wet nipple with his thumb as he teased the other, flicking the hardened nub with his tongue. Rougher, matching Yoongi’s pace in your pussy, shoving his fingers so far into your pussy that you felt his knuckles.

Yoongi against your back, purring your name.

“Cum for me,” he murmured, low and raspy. “Cum all over my hand as Jungkook abuses your nipples.”

Fuck, his satoori, his words.

Yoongi had you wrapped around his fingers in all senses.

“Mm, fuck, fuck…”

You moaned loudly as you came, legs shuddering, rutting your breasts into Jungkook’s face as your hand pressed him into your tits, grinding your hips into Yoongi’s hand as your pussy clenched around his fingers, drenching them with your orgasm once again. Jungkook moaned into your chest, burying his nose into your tits, tongue pressed against your skin.

“Ah, fuck, you taste so good, noona…”

Yoongi chuckled, slowly pulling his fingers out of you.

“You haven’t tasted anything, Jungkook.”

And then Yoongi fell back against the bed, taking you with him. You had to release Jungkook’s head, whining at the loss of his warmth. Yoongi dipped his knees down and shoved them between your thighs, spreading them wide. He slid you down his body, forcing you to expose your wet pussy to Jungkook’s wide, voracious eyes.

“Have a taste.”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered to you. At this point, it was doomed. You wanted Jungkook’s tongue and your needed it now. Your voice was grating, tainted with lust.

“Get on your knees and taste me, Jungkook,” you growled.

Jungkook obeyed immediately, kneeling before you and crawling up to your thighs, extending his pink tongue, nearly drooling. Chocolate eyes watching your face.

Yoongi shoved his wet fingers into your lips.

You grunted in protest, but then Jungkook’s tongue touched your wet slit, lapping greedily as he watched Yoongi’s fingers slide in and out of your mouth. You moaned around them, licking off your taste as Jungkook moaned into your pussy, coating his tongue with your sweet, thick juices.

“O-oh, fuck, hyung, noona…” he panted hotly into your core. “Tastes so fucking good.”

“Told you,” Yoongi chuckled triumphantly, slowly fucking your mouth.

“Wanna be in here so bad, hyung…”

You make a gargled noise around his fingers and he pulled them out, humming in his chest so your head vibrated with the sound.

“I’m not taking him raw,” you gasped out as Jungkook’s tongue swiped over your clit. Your breathing hitched as he lapped at it experimentally and he continued after witnessing your reaction. Your hand slid down and gripped Yoongi’s wrist, moan torn out of you as Jungkook’s licking intensified. Almost too much, forcing you to tighten your core, juices leaking out of your slit and onto his chin.

“Don’t worry. I came prepared.”

Your jaw tightened as you neared orgasm. Of course, Yoongi came prepared.

“You planned this.”

“Did I?”

Far too amused and teasing to be innocent. Your back arched as Jungkook increased the suction, your head tipped back against Yoongi’s chest, barely being able to see him upside down, mouth open as you panted. Yoongi smirked at you.

“Or did I simply assist little Jungkookie in convincing noona to take his virginity?”

His words and your orgasm hit you like a truck, hands flying up to grip Yoongi’s shoulders as you nearly screamed Jungkook’s name, thighs threatening to clamp his head if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s strong legs spreading them out. Your body fell limp onto Yoongi’s chest, flooding Jungkook’s mouth with your orgasm. Jungkook groaned, drinking it up, hands coming up to hold your hips down as he sucked it out of you.

“Not all of it, Jungkook,” Yoongi warned. “Keep her wet for you.”

Jungkook whined, drawing back, lips shiny and glossy with your cum. His pink tongue snaked out, swiped over his lips, scooping it all into his mouth, the action obscene and arousing all at once.

“Fuck, noona’s pussy tastes so good…”

Yoongi lifted your limp body and dragged you up the bed, placing his head on the pillows and positioning you on top of him. You scoffed, back and ass pressed against Yoongi’s still fully clothed body.

“You want him to fuck me on top of you?”

“Of course,” Yoongi answered smugly. “I can help him get into position and he can get back at me for fucking you on top of him.”

“You didn–”

Yoongi pinched your nipples, cutting you off as he flicked the sensitive nubs, turning you into a moaning mess in seconds. Your legs tried to close, but once again Yoongi hooked his around yours and spread them out for Jungkook, who was stripping off his pants. Your eyes widened seeing Jungkook’s cock straining against his boxer briefs. Yoongi had a great dick. The best dick. But Jungkook had never been in a woman before and he was impossibly hard because of it, gasping as he pushed his underwear down, leaking pre-cum everywhere. Either that or he really was very, very turned on by you.

For the first time throughout this entire night, it really hit you that Jungkook actually liked you. That he was not a fuckboy and he genuinely wanted you to take his virginity, so much so that, somehow, he convinced Yoongi, your partner-in-crime, your other half in this long-winded sexual escapade of pushing each other closer and closer to the edge, until one of you fell.

Yoongi clasped his hands around your upper arms, sucking in an excited breath.

Your breathing caught in your throat.

Or maybe.

Maybe both of you had already fallen.

And both of you were twisted enough to be ridiculously turned on by Jungkook crawling onto the bed, eyes glazed with desire, desperate to fuck you. Yoongi tapped your arm and pressed a condom into your palm.

“Put it on him.”

You motioned Jungkook forward and he scooted up, sucking in his lower lip. The tiny mole underneath quivered as you ripped open the condom, reaching awkwardly to roll it down his thick cock. You inhaled sharply, feeling his warmth against your fingers. Your eyes flickered up to him and he swallowed, chest rattling nervously.

“H… How do I…?”

“Hands on the bed,” Yoongi said behind you. Jungkook placed his hands on the bed, on either side of Yoongi’s arms, next to your head. He stared into your eyes. You placed your hands on his hips and scooted him down so he was positioned above you.

“Give me one of my legs, Yoongi,” you said softly, still keeping eye contact. Yoongi let go of your right leg and you raised it, Jungkook moving his hand so you could place your calf on his shoulder.

“Do I just…?”

“Down.”

He missed.

“Try again,” Yoongi whispered gently. “Hyung will help you.”

Jungkook chewed on his lip and lowered his hips again, gasping as Yoongi’s fingers wrapped around his cock and led him to your pussy. You lifted your hips so Yoongi could see better. The head pressed against your entrance.

“A-ah…” you breathed. “There.”

“Push,” Yoongi instructed.

Jungkook slowly slid in. He winced. “She’s too tight.”

“Relax,” Yoongi chided you. “He’s not me. He can’t handle all that yet.”

“I am,” you shot back. “He’s not pushing hard enough.”

Yoongi huffed. “Fine. Shove it all in there, Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “Won’t that hurt you?”

Instead of waiting for Yoongi to answer, your hands came up and grabbed Jungkook’s hips, forcing his cock deep into you. He yelped at the sudden rush of pleasure, eyes rolling back into his head. You held him down, not letting him move, trying very hard not to tighten around his dick because, holy fuck, Jeon Jungkook had a nice cock, filling you up and stretching you out with his hardness, unforgiving and wonderful, reminding you of Yoongi’s.

Except, well, Yoongi usually didn’t look like he was going to pass out.

You had to bite your tongue so you wouldn’t laugh. Yoongi pinched your arm, already knowing your reaction. You hissed, pulsing around Jungkook’s cock. The younger man moaned, lowering his head, blond hair falling like a curtain. His eyes found yours. Jungkook’s gaze so intense it made your shiver, nails digging into his hips.

Outside the locked bedroom door, someone was yelling at someone else about cheating or something frivolous like that.

“You can move whenever you’re ready, Jungkook,” Yoongi finally said.

“Excuse me, I’m right here,” you interjected.

“Shh, don’t complain.” Yoongi’s hand stroked your red hair, flaring it out on his chest. “Let Jungkookie use you.”

Your chest tightened.

You felt yourself get wetter around Jungkook’s cock.

“What did you say to me?” you breathed. One of your hands lowered from Jungkook’s hip and gripped Yoongi’s wrist tightly. The tone of your voice changed, not quite so harsh anymore, turning needy and thin, breathless. Jungkook was watching you curiously. You felt your ears heat.

Yoongi’s free hand slid around your waist. You couldn’t see his face, but you saw Jungkook’s eyes slide upwards, observing his hyung. A mischievous spark suddenly appeared in those dark brown eyes. Yoongi cupped your breast, stroking your nipple lightly. Shallow, tight breaths, waiting for Yoongi’s response.

“I said,” Yoongi drawled. “Let Jungkookie use you.”

Oh no.

Oh shit.

Why were you suddenly so horny? It suddenly got so hot, suddenly so aware you were sandwiched between Jeon Jungkook’s hard dick and Min Yoongi’s fully clothed body, and Jungkook was going to fuck you into this random bed and into Yoongi himself. So very wrong. So very bad.

And you wanted it.

Jungkook raised his hips and pushed back into you, clenching his jaw. You were so wet that it was easy, not enough for your sudden hunger.

“Not too far,” Yoongi instructed. “You’re going to fall out if you pull out too far.” Yoongi nudged your hip. “Up.” You raised your hips and pressed your thigh against your chest. “Jungkook, angle yourself higher.”

Jungkook shifted and got more on his knees. “Like this?”

“Mhm. Go harder.”

Jungkook slapped his hips into you and you gasped, pressing your head into Yoongi’s chest. He stopped, looking worried.

“She’s fine.”

“Are you su–?”

“Jungkook,” you snarled. “Listen to him and just fuck my damn hole so I can get off.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened at your dirty words. Yoongi chuckled.

“She’ll be fine, Jungkook. Focus on yourself for now. Don’t go faster or you’ll cum too fast,” Yoongi cautioned. “At least for the first time. Go harder so you can feel it all.”

Jungkook bit his lip and began to slowly, but roughly, fuck you. Smacking your hips together with force, gasping at every descent, your pussy squeezing the full length when it was inside you. His gasps turned into moans, your breathy name, eyes closing as he thrust into you.

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook groaned. “Fuck, she’s so wet, so tight…”

“Like your dreams?” Yoongi teased.

Jungkook seemed not to notice. “Better. Fuck, so much better, hyung, oh my God…”

“Harder,” Yoongi commanded. “I know you can go harder, Jungkookie.”

You moaned deeply as Jungkook rammed his hips into you, the wet squelch loud and lewd, so obvious if someone was listening outside, even through the music. But none of you cared, none of you noticed the bed squeaking as Yoongi spurred Jungkook on gently, having him increase the pace, making your body shudder with pleasure, mouth opening and tongue hanging out as you gasped for breath.

“You wanna cum, Jungkook?” Yoongi asked breathlessly, becoming hard under you as you cried out in pleasure, the base of Jungkook’s cock splattered with your juices.

“Not yet,” Jungkook whined.

“Alright, stop for a second.”

Yoongi placed a hand on Jungkook’s waist and pushed him all the way into you. You whimpered, so close to orgasm but cut off by Jungkook stopping, clenching around his cock as the head hit you deep inside.

Yoongi dropped his voice, speaking to you.

“Give him a hug.”

You gripped Jungkook’s cock and pulsated around it. Jungkook groaned, throwing his head back as his cock throbbed against your walls, roughly massaged by your pussy.

“Oh, fuck me…”

Jungkook began to move again, harder and faster now, lost in his lust, chasing his pleasure.

“Doesn’t it feel nice?” Yoongi purred to you. Your heartbeat skipped as Jungkook pounded you into Yoongi, biting your lip hard and whimpering as he fucked you mercilessly, lack of practice making it an erratic rhythm, watching his thick cock pump in and out of you, so good, so rough, using you.

Your name drifted from Yoongi’s lips, smokey and devious, driving you insane. Your head tipped back, staring at the ceiling, gasping as Yoongi’s words worked into you.

“You love it, don’t you?” Yoongi drawled. “You love Jungkook using you, fucking you like his own personal gloryhole, hm?”

Oh, fuck.

You whined pathetically, liquid gushing down Jungkook’s cock as you came, core tightening, Jungkook fucking you harder, grunting as he clenched his jaw, feeling you massage his length harshly. Yoongi pinched your nipples, lengthening your orgasm, and you squeezed your eyes shut, pleasure overwhelming your senses, consuming you, feeling nothing but Jungkook’s cock, Yoongi’s hands, and Yoongi’s words corrupting you.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy letting Jungkook use you like this,” Yoongi growled. “So generous, letting Jungkook fuck your tight little hole with his big cock, hm?” He rolled your nipples in his fingers and rubbed them hard.

“A-ah, Yoongi!”

“No, no,” Yoongi scolded, pinching them firmly and making your squeal. “Tell Jungkook how good he’s doing. Tell him how good he feels inside you, naughty girl.”

You opened your eyes to see Jungkook’s sweaty face, brows furrowed, jaw tight as he smacked your hips together over and over, veins popping in his neck and forehead. His cock was jerking inside you, close. So close.

“F-fuck, Jungkook,” you gritted out, feeling Yoongi release your nipples and bounce your tits in time with Jungkook’s thrusts. “Fuck, you’ve doing so good, can’t believe this is your first time, you’re so fucking strong and so fucking big, fuck…”

Jungkook’s dark eyes fixated on you, your bouncing tits, your open mouth, your glazed eyes, hips fucking him back as he fucked you.

“It’s because you have the perfect pussy, noona,” he growled, leaning down, pressing you into Yoongi, getting a deeper angle, nearly hitting your cervix. His breath was hot and erotic against your face, eyes flickering up to Yoongi before boring into yours, capturing you, dragging into his pace and his cock slamming into your hips.

“The perfectly tight little gloryhole for me to use.”

You cried out, something inside you snapping, cumming again all over Jungkook’s cock, your juices sliding down your thighs and his thighs, smearing into Yoongi’s jeans, dripping everywhere, so much, oh, God, so fucking intense that your pussy clamped around Jungkook’s cock. He moaned your name right into your face, thrusting one last time, pumping the condom full, stretching it out against your walls, so much you could feel it and his cock throbbing against your walls, trying to get it all out.

Yoongi didn’t even bother to ask. He simply reached down and pushed Jungkook back a little, feeling for the bottom of the condom and pushing him out of you. Jungkook whined, but Yoongi pulled you away from him.

“It’s too much,” Yoongi mumbled. “How long have you been holding out? Fuck…”

He pulled the condom off him and it was still dribbling out. Yoongi grabbed your hand and wrapped it around Jungkook’s cock, holding you in place with his. You were too tired to focus, too exhausted to realize what was going on.

Yoongi began to pump Jungkook with your hand, slowly. He was still so hard, veins imprinting into your palm, cum dripping all over your and Yoongi’s fingers. Jungkook whined, wincing at the sensitivity, but Yoongi was careful, sliding your palm up to the head and squeezing it firmly but not too tightly. Slowly, slowly, bringing Jungkook back down.

“Party’s dying,” Yoongi breathed. “We gotta get out of here.”

You were naked. Jungkook was naked. Your lower back was killing you. Yoongi’s blood alcohol level was far too high to drive even if he sounded sober. You sucked in a breath and shoved your face into the unknown sheets, groaning.

“Give me a minute, fuck.”

Shit, you just wanted to sleep.

-

third act. was it a dream a–dick–ted au

--

masterpost

[youryanderedaddy]

Hello, do you accept order? If yes, you could make a single one shot of Yandere! Brat Spoiled, please...

What would it be like if Yandere were the son of wealthy parents who always have everything they want, when they don't always get what they like, always act like a spoiled brat (and also his parents are afraid of their son, as they have already seen what he is capable of when he gets angry)... that's where the reader comes in. She is a new student at school, a nice and kind person, so the yandere knows her and falls in love so strongly that she never felt that way in life, but the reader is always rejecting her advances for being a spoiled brat and the way he treats the people around you.

What happens next?

Title: Eat the poor

Tw: non - consensual touching, obsessive/possessive behavior, violence, low-key bullying, blackmail / coercion, reader is in university

Part 2

It had started during your very first year of college, back when you still felt motivated to go to school and meet new people. You had heard the rumors about him before ever meeting his gaze and oh, did they disappoint.

You met Gabrielle for the first time when the snowdrops bloomed and the birds returned home – in the early autumn, at night, in a small crowded room reeking of alcohol, sweat and cheap cologne which you quickly realized wasn’t his. The man smelt like the cigarettes he never got bored of and sweet caramel. He was wearing a big leather jacket and a pair of dark jeans, yet the simplicity of the outfit seemed to suit the expensive brands displayed on the clothing. In a way the student represented the typical youthful boyish beauty with his golden locks, eyes the color of the sky and frame tall and well – built. Yet his face remained motionless the whole night and his body stayed still despite the mass of bodies dancing around in rhythm. But then some poor unfortunate fool managed to bump into the male, spilling his drink all over him, and his pretty face quickly twisted into a mask of disgust and anger.

“You stupid piece of shit!” The male yelled shortly after as his fist connected with the stuttering boy’s stomach. His clear eyes were now two wild thunderstorms pouring rain and lightning over the tipsy guy who was nervously apologizing and promising to pay for the damages done. “Do you know how much this costs?” Gabrielle spat with venom and pushed the other onto the floor, bringing his black sneakers to that white shirt until there was a mark of dirt formed on the otherwise clean fabric. Everyone else in the room had stopped drinking now and all the eyes were pinned onto the two men yet no one had the courage to do anything. Your own heart was beating hard in your chest at the sudden display of unnecessary violence but you had always been a calm kid, a kind soul too scared of its own shadow to learn how to fight properly. So you had no idea what to do.

“My father can have you expelled, you know.” The blond man suddenly spoke out in a quiet eerie voice as he pressed his foot harder into the shorter boy’s stomach causing him to whimper and squirm. “Unless you are willing to beg for my forgiveness, that is.” The bully proposed with a sly smirk on his pink lips as he glared at the victim underneath. The student on the ground was clenching his eyes tight so no one could see the tears in them when he shook his head no. You finally decided you couldn’t let this inhumane scene go any further.

“Stop this madness right now!” You shouted manically, drawing all the attention to yourself as you made your way between the two men. Gabrielle immediately pinned his burning gaze on you in unhidden intrigue. “This is too cruel. He didn’t mean to bump into you. Please, leave him alone.” As much as you had wanted to curse at the spoiled rich boy there was this suffocating feeling in your lungs telling you to be careful and play the mediator. The others quickly started gasping and some were already gossiping at your reaction proving your point that the guy was indeed dangerous.

Then he looked you straight in the eyes with his deep blue ones. He chuckled softly before smacking his lips in an unpleasant way, his “tsk” sending shivers down your spine. You had fucked up. “Well, well, well… Looks like the new girl wants to play hero. How cliché.” The bully grinned as he let his gaze roam up and down your body, your cheeks turning red in return when having realized he was handsome even while doing something so vulgar. “But if you do want to help him so badly…” The golden – haired man paused for a moment pretending to be deep in thought. “Maybe we could have a little deal, bunny.” He moved his leg away from the sobbing boy and stepped in front of you. From this close you could feel the warmth of his skin and the sweet aroma of burnt sugar it radiated. Gabrielle tilted your chin up almost gently and whispered in your ear “Kiss me.”

You tried to break free from the uncomfortable pose but the student simply squeezed your jaw line harder, his eyes cold and calculating, following your every move. You mind went blank and foggy at the forced intimacy and you couldn’t think straight with his breath on your neck. It felt like the time had slowed down just so the sadistic snob could mess with you a little longer. You opened your mouth to voice your protests but fortunately you didn’t have to say anything because at the very same time the host of the party appeared, ready to stop the fight.

“Gabrielle, I’d have to ask you to leave.” The dark – haired junior growled enraged as he pushed the taller male away from you. You couldn’t help but smile at him in appreciation. He was the only one brave enough to help you after all. “You are ruining the party for everyone. ” The stranger continued. The blonde seemed irritated at the sudden interruptance yet it was obvious he was powerless against the owner of the house. Still he grit his teeth and signed in annoyance as he turned to face the host. “Fuck you, Jackson!” The man cursed but eventually moved towards the door, red with anger. “My father will hear about this.” He looked at you as he reached for the golden doorknob, his features softened. “See you around, bunny.”

This was the first time you met Gabrielle. You already wished it was the last.

-------------------------------------------------------

After the incident the snob seemed interested in you, blatantly so. He would eye you up in the halls like you were a shiny new toy in a claw machine and try to strike a conversation no matter how much you ignored him. The man never once apologized for what happened at the party but at least he didn’t bring it up so you counted it as a small victory. You gradually understood just how much power and money the heir had. His father owned casinos, hotels, banks and apparently even the university you two were studying in received major monthly donations by the big businessman. This explained why everyone was so scared of the blonde, especially when he did nothing but flaunt his status at the slightest inconvenience. And now he wanted you.

In your eyes the boy was just an annoying brat who lived off daddy’s hard work, there really wasn’t much to him that intrigued you. The male was handsome, pretty even, but his grades were terrible and his interests were bland and shallow, mostly involving expensive brands and grand parties. But the worst thing about him was his personality. The snob treated his friends like servants and his enemies like dirt, but you he rather saw as a challenge. Gabrielle would ask you out every time you were unlucky enough to run into him. The first time the man gave you so many roses you couldn’t even count them, the second he demanded your affection with a silver necklace in hand ready to cover your neck in his mark of ownerships. You couldn’t recall all the other gifts the blonde used to try and court you with but you remembered refusing each and every one.

“Why can’t you just give me a chance?” He exclaimed one day after you had just returned the expensive bracelet you had found in your locker. It was a dark winter night and the heir seemed irritated with you for the first time, his eyes a deep electric blue just like the sky. The man had you cornered against the wall but you were used to his pathetic attempts at intimidation. Yet today there was something different in the air around him, some small voice at the back of your head wondered whether this time he wasn’t just joking around. “Are you still angry about that little wimp I expelled, bunny?” Gabrielle asked contemptuously yet his pupils remained cold and distant. Once again he was too close for your liking, too close for you to function properly, but that was probably exactly what he wanted. You to be compliant and obedient like all the others who crawled and kneeled at the very sight of him. “Or are you sulking because I beat up Jones after he asked you out, hmm?” What? The blonde man was the one who gave Tony the black eye? But he had told you it was just a street fight… Why had your friend covered for the bully you both hated?

“Why would you do that to him?” You whispered, staring at the twisted boy in front of you. Your heart was beating fast and your blood was boiling hot in your veins but you couldn’t let him win by showing him how much his actions affected you. Gabrielle reached out and cupped your cheek gently before smirking mischievously. “He was trying to take something that belonged to me.” The heir said casually as if he was talking about the weather. His fingers were cold against your warm skin and you fought the urge to vomit right then and there. “I am not yours.” You spat out with poison and pushed his hand away from your face. Next thing you know his knee was separating your thighs, lifting your short black skirt up, his breath lingering on your neck. “S-stop.” You stuttered and tried to squirm out of his hold but the man easily caught your wrists and brought them above your head, pinning you further into the wall. He was stronger than he looked and you felt so small and helpless in that moment you could have cried if your stubbornness hadn’t prevailed.

“What don’t you like about me?” The blonde suddenly spoke out, his voice unnaturally broken and needy, bordering on a whine, crying out in desperation. You weren’t sure whether he was trying to manipulate you now or if he actually wanted you to answer so you decided to be honest anyways. “I hate the way you treat other people. I could never love someone as cruel as you.” You inhaled deeply, ready to voice all the painful thoughts you had kept inside since the beginning of the semester. “You are spoilt rotten. Metaphorically and literally.” The man was breathing sharply like a wounded animal after hearing your words and as much as you wanted to sympathize with him, you couldn’t bring yourself to after everything he had done to you and your friends. He was irredeemable. “Let me go.” You finally demanded, hoping to use him weakened emotional state to your advantage.

Instead Gabrielle clenched his teeth and squeezed down harder on your already bruised wrists causing you to whimper in dull pain. His eyes were wet but the tears had finally stopped just like his willingness to show you his vulnerable side. The man had tried being nice and sweet to you, patient, then mean and patronizing, and neither worked. So obviously it was time to become the terrifying bratty monster everyone was so keen on believed he was.

“Have you noticed how many people seem to go missing after talking to you just once?” The heir whispered in your ear as his free hand traveled down to your waist, drawing you into his hard chest. You groaned at the sudden realization that the snob was actually right, less and less guys seemed to show up to your shared lectures in the last few months, but you had always assumed they just needed a break from school. University was stressful after all. “Did you…” You started off but couldn’t find the right words. Did you force your father to expel them? Did you harm them? Maybe a part of you didn’t want to know the answer. “I did.” Gabrielle responded before you could even finish the sentence. The sly smirk you knew way too well adorned his lips and it wasn’t hard to see he had already won. “And I will keep doing it until you agree to be mine and mine alone.” The man stated confidently as he sucked the sensitive skin of your neck until you arched your back in shock, your eyes rolling up to the ceiling. “N-nhgg.” You whimpered as you felt his teeth dig into your warm flesh leaving a scarlet mark for all to see. “Come on, baby, we both know you are too good to let them suffer because of your own selfishness.” He taunted you as he left a line of small wet kisses along your exposed collarbone. You wanted to argue, to yell at him how you weren’t the crazy, selfish one, but deep down you knew it was pointless. Gabrielle had power and you had nothing to bargain with. He could have anyone yet he wanted to torment you. “Give into me. I promise I can make you happy if you let me.” The blonde uttered softly as his lips brushed against yours, almost touching them, following your reaction with his clear eyes. Your own were puffy and red from the tears but he didn’t seem to care much about your misery and discomfort. The man wished to own, not to please, but you couldn’t do anything. And of course you wouldn’t let him ruin the lives of the innocent. Of course your stupid heart was too good and human for your own good. So you closed your eyes and slowly connected your lips with him even though they tasted almost metallic, like blood and defeat.

“I knew you would come around, bunny.”