#Keyboard Courage

[enniewritesathing]

me re-reading the shit I wrote last night

[a-very-fond-farewell]

ok the vibe is: I’m just a silly little guy in a dreadful little world. time to go back to my roots (*eats croutons straight from the bag*)

[dockaspbrak]

every day im 1 day away from starting a band with my gf but we both need to learn an instrument. we could release such unlikable music together

[goldeunoias]

Favorite Student.

WARNINGS: YES THIS IS PROFESSOR AND STUDENT FUCKING IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT DON'T READ IT. both of yall are adults i think like 22 and 28 or something like that so it's not like the worst of the worst but yes. there are power dynamics blah blah, sunghoon is massive pervert, ITS ALL FICTION YALL

um includes....perverted sunghoon, eating out, teasing, pet names, sex in an office, fingering, it's me so ya know

Synopsis: A class you'd hated, but a professor you'd always admired...

A/N: DAISY BACKKKKK

SUNGHOON STANS ARE THE BESTTTTT at writing and giving me anons and feedback and comments and reblogs which is why I will always spoil them bc they treat me the best <333. next fic is a heeseung one sooo if you want more heeseung content make sure to give that one as much love too when it comes out!

_________________________________________

He was the meanest professor around, bar none.

But in your current predicament, he was the only professor left for the class you needed to take, unless you wanted to wait and thus delay your graduation by a whole semester.

That's how you found yourself standing outside his office, swinging back and forth on your heels, trying to get the courage to go in and ask him for help on the chapter that seemed like no one in your class was getting, you included.

"What are you doing standing outside my office?"

At the sound of his voice you jumped and turned around, heart racing in your ears as you tried to give him some eye contact; ultimately failing miserably.

"U-Um, I needed help with chapter 14 in the textbook and no one in my section really got it either so I figured I'd stop by-"

"Did you look at the lecture notes?"

"Y-yes sir."

"The supplemental videos?"

You nodded again.

Dr. Park sighed and moved past you to unlock his office door, letting the door swing shut past you as you walked in. The vibes of his room was austere to say the least and you couldn't tell if anyone had ever sat in the chair across from him given how spotless and un-creased it was.

Well, first time for everything.

"So what are you needing help with? Do you have any notes or something?"

"U-uh yes sir, give me a sec," you stuttered out as you fidgeted with your bag to pull out your laptop, showing him all that you had done.

He leaned on his side of the thick oak desk so he could get a closer look at what you had done, the closer proximity causing cologne you could only surmise to be expensive filling your nose. You fidgeted in your seat and moved some to lower your skirt as it rode up, trying to think of something to fill the awkward silence as he scrolled through what you had done.

Luckily, he beat you to it.

"Well, it's not the worst thing I've seen." He sighed, taking off his glasses and pointing to your screen. "You still aren't understanding the basic concepts of this chapter yet and it's reflecting in your notes. You see this summary outline you wrote here is-"

Your eyes absentmindedly drifted to his alabaster forearms that were shown from the rolled up sleeves of his button up, thick large hands scrolling on your keyboard. His jaw and nose were sharp too and from the closeness you could make out his dark lashes, usually hidden by the thick framed glasses he wore.....

You were jolted out of your thoughts when he snapped his fingers in front of your face, eyebrows knitted in annoyance at you wasting his time by daydreaming.

"If you're going to come to my office I would think you'd listen to what I have to say," Sunghoon said through a clucked tongue.

You looked down and immediately apologized profusely, feeling tears well in your eyes. You weren't the best with scolding you never had been, but to have someone who was already not in the best of moods have it become worse because of you only made you more sensitive.

He looked at you from across the desk, a grown girl with mannerisms like that of a meek fawn.

A prey.

You swallowed thickly as he stood up and leaned over the desk, strands of mahogany hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at you.

"Hey hey, don't cry, we'll work through it together mmkay? You're a smart girl aren't you?"

It was a voice you'd never heard him use on anyone, and it made the hairs on your neck stand up and your legs squirm as he held your chin.

"I'm sorry it's just this is one of my final classes I need to graduate and everything is hard and I don't want to waste your time-"

"Aw, princess don't stress, don't stress," he cooed. The sweet and gentle tone of his voice was causing you to melt into his touch, wondering how someone who usually only spoke in stern curt sentences could produce such sounds.

You couldn't stop bouncing your legs and squirming in your seat as his fingertips stroked the underside of your chin softly, making soft shushes and coos at you to calm your nerves.

Fuck, he wanted to ruin you.

But he had to wait for you to make the move. He was in the precarious position and even though he could see in your gaze that you were begging for it, you were going to have to show him.

A little teasing should do the trick.

"Here, we have some time before the next test don't we? Start coming by my office everyday and we can work through this unit together so you won't have to worry alright" he offered up, sitting back down in his office chair with a soft smile on his face.

You sniffled and nodded at the premise before rushing out a plethora of "thank you"s to him, unable to stop the tingling on your chin from where he had touched you as he left........

_________________________________

"Here sweetheart move your chair over to my side of the desk so you can get a better look at my screen," he offered up, moving his chair over some to make some room.

"O-okay sure," you agreed, the name "sweetheart" ringing throughout your head. Had he always used that nickname for you? Or was he just using it as a coverup for forgetting your name? Whatever the reason, your mind was spinning in circles at the gentle way he said it.

“Cmon, you can come a little closer than that, I don’t bite ya know”, he hummed, pulling your chair closer to his. You nodded because you didn’t trust your voice and your mind couldn’t stop wandering to how large his hands looked as he pointed out errors in the extra assignments he’d given you, talking you softly through each one.

"Does that make sense?" he inquired gently, placing his head on your thigh and squeezing it. The contact made you jolt in your skin and you gulped before profusely nodding, truly able to grasp just how large his hands were as they sat on your plush thigh.

"Good girl, see you had no reason to be so worried, your work is been improving exponentially".

"T-thank you sir. I have to go to my next class now...." you trailed off awkwardly, fidgeting in your seat.

He smiled and stood up, waiting for you to do the same before escorting you to his door.

"Of course. Same time tomorrow?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, scurrying out of his office. You made a b-line to the bathroom to splash some cold water on your face, wondering if there was anything that gave away just how flustered you truly were in his proximity.

How can someone be so cute? Sunghoon hummed to himself as he sat at his desk, fiddling with his pen. His own hand still buzzed with excitement at how soft and warm your thigh was, and his mind couldn't help but trail further down a rabbit hole.

For the next month it seemed Sunghoon had only gotten friendlier and friendlier: you found out that he had a dog which he adored and would bring to the office if he was allowed to, that he had a younger sister, used to compete in sports (which you could attribute to his frame), and really liked fashion.

All the while, Sungoon used every opportunity to get you used to his touch; the stroking of your ear during one session, the soft touch of your shoulder the next. Every time you'd jolt before absentmindedly melting into it, and before you knew it you find yourself craving his touch.

You didn't dare your friends or anyone around you of your extra tutoring sessions, or that his hands were somehow find themself on yours. Surely you should be disgusted at yourself instead of electrified by the touches he leaves on you right?

But those thoughts would always disappear every time you walked into his office.

"So sorry I'm late!" you rushed out as you stepped into his office, panting from having sprinted up the stairs to get here.

Sunghoon looked up from the papers at his desk and smiled, flickering his head to come sit down.

"It's okay sweetheart don't worry," he hummed, trying to pull his eyes away from the sheen the shone on your neck.

"I've been so frazzled lately I hope you're not too mad at me being late," you rushed out, practically stumbling over to sit down in your chair.

He hummed and stared at your plush thighs that clung to the leather of the chair and watched as you shifted to prevent them sticking, getting flustered when you saw he was watching you.

"Sorry, I'm a bit sticky it's a bit warm outside, s-should I just stand instead?" you offered up quickly, standing up and fixing your sundress.

"Why don't you sit on my desk instead then? Here let me move these papers out of you way-"

"W-won't I get the desk dirty since I'm all sweaty" you interjected, heart racing as he cleared his desk off for you, making space so you'd have no choice but to sit right in front of his chair.

"Don't worry about it, now be a good girl and come sit," he cooed, giving you eyes that almost dared you to disobey him. Quickly you went over and sat on his desk, swallowing thickly when Sunghoon began massaging your calves as he removed your shoes.

"Poor baby rushed over to our tutoring session, your legs must be exhausted and aching," he soothed, tender hands working into the soft flesh of your skin.

"Only s-slightly, it's fine I"m used to it," you excused, squirming as Sunghoon leaned closer to your skin. "Is this something a professor should be um...doing, I mean I know we've gotten close b-but.." you trailed off, yelping when Sunghoon dragged his lips against your knee.

"Then tell me to stop kitten," he taunted, kissing the inner of your thighs as he slid off your other shoe, looking up at you through framed lenses.

"You're not stupid baby, your test grades prove that well enough. Surely you kept coming to our lessons hoping it'd end up like this," he continued, hoisting your legs over his shoulders as he pulled you closer against his face.

"I...I don't know," was all you could muster out, toes curling as he softly kissed your inner thighs. Sunghoon chuckled under his breath and stood up, pushing you down onto his desk as he took of his glasses.

The air was knocked out of you for a second as you lay splayed on the desk, the cool hardwood being a stark contrast to your sticky skin.

“It’s okay baby,” he leaned in, licking the sweat from your neck. “It’s okay to say you like doing perverted things with me. Go on, tell your professor how much you like it”, he cooed, rubbing your puffy clit with his thumb.

You whined as felt something tightening in your tummy, mustering up the courage to speak.

“I-I like it”, you choked out, your toes curling in your tube socks as you started to feel how thick his fingers really were.

“Awww, give me more than that yeah? Tell me exactly what you like.” He couldn’t help himself. He wanted you to profess all types of profanities through hazy eyes and shaky legs, for you to beg to be ruined and defiled by him.

“I like..doing perverted things with you.” You felt your face burn as you stumbled your way through the sentence, rutting your hips into a feeling that only got tighter.

“Aw you do? Well in that case let me teach my princess all the perverted things we can do together..." he trailed off, squeezing the side of your thighs.

"Good girl~, such a good girl~" Sunghoon cooed, lifting up the hem of your sundress. "Cute panties," he drawled as his index finger slid down the slit, pressing against the sticky wet patch. "Mind if I keep them?"

You couldn't help but buck your hips into the feeling as you nodded without a second thought, your nails digging into the gloss furnish of his desk.

"Sweetheart you shouldn't agree to everything I say," he spoke, cupping your heat in his hand and massaging it. You gripped onto his shoulders instead and whimpered into his chest as you felt trickles of wetness soak your cotton underwear, meak "I'm sorry"s leaving you.

"It's okay, it's okay, don't apologize. It's just," he moved the hair covering your ear with his mouth before kissing against it, letting out deep groans as he rutted himself against you.

"there are some bad people out there, waiting to take advantage of pretty young girls like you. Are you going to spread your legs for everyone?"

"No, it's j-just because it's...you," you whimpered against his chest.

Sunghoon sucked air through his teeth as his self control unraveled at the seams.

"Because it's me?" he inquired, kneeling down so he was eye-level with your soaked core, messing with the hem of your panties.

"Wait Ihaven'tshoweredso-" your legs shook around his head as his tongue pressed against the soaked wet patch of your underwear, groaning at the taste that trickled onto his tongue.

"Is that why you taste and smell so sweet princess?" He groaned, pulling your underwear down without a second thought to expose yourself barren to him, his cock twitching in his pants at how sticky you already were.

"Here hold my hand sweetheart, squeeze it as hard as you like," he cooed as he offered up his free hand to you. You obliged immediately and squeezed his digits as his other free hand rubbed softly against your swollen clit, leaving light kisses on the puffy bud.

You let out meek "I'm sorry"s as your nails dug into the alabaster skin of his hand, struggling to keep yourself still as you felt the warmth of his lips wrap around your clit before sucking softly.

"It's okay princess, just sink into the feeling, I'm going to make you feel so so good," he groaned between your legs. You nodded and felt your eyes flutter into the back your head as you felt every ridge of his tongue against your entrance, saliva mixing with arousal as he lapped up everything you gave him.

The pleasure only increased as he wantonly hummed around your bud, Sunghoon drunk off of how sweet and syrupy you tasted on his tongue.

Sunghoon was doing his best to not just pin you to the desk and fuck the daylights of you, not understanding how someone could be so intoxicating. Every thing from your little gasps of air to the whimpers you were trying to hide in your throat were making him dizzy, desperate even.

"Your hole is twitching every time I suck your clit princess," Sunghoon remarked as he came up for air, licking his lips clean. "It must want something in it huh?" he drawled, sliding two thick digits into you. Your back arched off the desk as you felt the tight stretch between your legs, your hands going to squeeze his wrist you whimpered.

"Oh no no baby, don't try to move away from it. Take it like a good girl, like my favorite student would," Sunghoon praised as he scissored his fingers inside of you, chuckling at how droplets of arousal leaked out.

Hearing him say you're his favorite student made your heart thrum in excitement, your thighs tensing up when the pads of his fingers pressed down against the spongy part of your walls.

"Pull your sundress down and play with your chest for me princess," Sunghoon ordered gently as he moved to the skin of your neck, infatuated with how he could feel your heart beating through his kisses. "Do it like how you do it when you're in your bed all alone, fingers between your legs..." he whispered against your ear, unable to hide his grin.

Your body felt unbearably hot as you whimpered and complied, pulling down the straps of your sundress and moving your bra. Your legs inexplicably shook as you tugged the pert buds, biting down on your lip as Sunghoon sped up the pace of his fingers.

Sunghoon made a mental note of your movements so he could replicate them next time, his mouth getting hungry as his mouth encircled a free nipple.

You spasmed slightly at his movements as you felt his coarse tongue suck and lick around the sensitive skin, making a point to hold eye contact with you any time your stare met his. Coupled with the gushing sounds he heard between your legs only got more turned on, leaving deep marks on your chest he was sure would last for days.

He couldn't help it, he was getting impatient, desperate to have you whimpering out his name and begging for him to ruin you in this godforsaken sundress.

"Fuck~ you're gonna get me in so much fucking trouble," Sunghoon groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his fingers. "I'm sorry baby but I can't let you come from just some fingering now can I?" he teased.

The eyes you gave him almost broke him down right there as he pulled out his digits and sucked them clean, unbuckling his belt with the other. On any other occasion he'd love to have you on your knees trying to fit him in your soft mouth, but his patience for that was long gone.

Your eyes enlarged as you watched his member spring free and press against his lower abdomen, Sunghoon hissing through his teeth as he stroked the reddened tip.

"Don't worry princess, we're gonna make it fit okay? Even if you are this tight," he reassured teasingly, kissing your temple as he pinned both your hands in one of his.

"Y-you don't need a condom" you choked out.

Sunghoon raised brows and chuckled at the fact such a statement could come from such a timid mouth of yours, ripping it with his teeth and putting it on regardless.

"Mmm of course I do sweetheart," he cooed, rubbing his length between your folds. Even through the condom you could feel how warm and heavy his member felt between your legs, your mind racing at the fact that you were going to have sex with your professor.

"Besides, if I came inside would you be able to keep my load inside you like a good girl? We can't have a mess in my office now can we?" he drawled in your ear, pushing his thick tip past your walls. You already felt a stretch that was incomparable to his fingers and started struggling against his grip, Sunghoon only laughing at you and tightening his hold even more.

"Shhhh don't run princess, don't run, this is how it feels to be fucked by a real man yeah? No college guy could find my baby's special spot like I could," he soothed, finding it so cute how you sucked on your bottom lip to cope with the stretch.

You raised your head slightly to discover that he was only halfway in, despite how full your lower belly felt. When Sunghoon saw your widened eyes he could only pout at you, finding you absolutely adorable.

And adorable things deserved to be ruined.

"Here princess, kiss me yeah?"

Shakily you reached up some and connected your lips with his, jolting against his mouth as Sunghoon had taken the opportunity to push himself to the hilt.

"P-professor" was all you could whine out as you felt your mind go dazy, Sunghoon using the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours.

"You're doing so good, taking all of me princess, such a good girl," Sunghoon praised softly in between kisses. He knew once he started moving his hips you'd be a goner, already evident by how dazy your eyes looked when he stared into them.

You felt his tip push against the entrance of your cervix and you couldn't help but let out a sharp gasp at the feeling, biting down on Sunghoon's shoulder to cope with the heavy sensation in your tummy.

"Hello? Mr. Park are you in your office?"

Your eyes widened and you went to move to hide, recognizing the voice as your fellow classmate. Sunghoon only laughed at your attempts and pinned your wrists, giving you a "shh" motion as he continued pressing his hips against yours.

"Yeah, I'm here. However if my door is closed that means office hours are also closed correct?" he tsked, sucking a breath between his teeth as you clenched down around him.

Despite his seemingly calm composure you had your mouth squeezed shut feeling a tight knot start to form.

Your legs shook as you tried tapping his wrist with your bound hands, Sunghoon cooing at you softly and kissing your cheek.

"I know you're close baby, I know I know, just hold out for a bit longer mmkay? I'll take care of you, I will."

You could only nod as your face scrunched up from holding back your moans, desperately wondering why this student was so keen on getting into the office of one of the most stubborn people alive.

"I know, but there's this problem I really-"

"Rules are rules" he interjected, taking out his point on you by an extra forceful snap of his hips. Yours nails digged into your own skin as you tried to follow your professors wishes and hold out just a bit longer for him, softly whispering his name to garner his attention.

“Just a bit longer,” he shushed warmly, kissing your temple as he listened to the footsteps outside the door. Sure enough there was a sigh, followed by the sound of sneakers against the tile floor and the student walked away, Sunghoon relinquishing his grip on you and slowly speeding up his hips.

“P-Professor my tummy," was all you could manage out, squirming as you felt the knot get tighter.

"Mmm, you feel the pressure building right here?" Sunghoon couldn't help but tease, firmly pushing down on your lower belly. Your nails left red marks down his back and chest as you gasped at the feeling, mind slowly entering a point of incoherence.

You hazily nodded and felt your toes curl as Sunghoon peppered your neck with open mouth kisses, unable to stop himself from marking you.

"I'm close too princess, hold on just a bit longer for me and we can come together yeah? C'mon, I know you can," Sunghoon purred as his hips only sped up faster, raising your lower back slightly make sure he hit your spot every single time.

You could only hold your breath and scrunch your face as you tried warding off the feeling that was only getting stronger. Sunghoon's own resolve had withered away as he bit down on his bottom lip to suppress the groan that would be heard by the whole hallway, sweat on his entire body as you squeezed down on him like a vice.

"Fuck~ princess, go ahead and let loose for me."

You felt your mind go blank as the knot snapped tighter than you were anticipating, having to suppress your moans by burying yourself into Sunghoon's neck as liquid gushed from between your legs and your walls pulsed around sporadically.

Sunghoon's came shortly thereafter by burying his face in your own neck, his breathing ragged and uneven as he lay shaking on top of you.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you and your mind started swimming at what you'd just done and the mess you'd just made, knowing that if your ancestors were ever to watch you they'd hang their heads in shame.

Yet, that didn't stop you from wanting to do it again.

"Professor," you began, refusing to make eye contact with him after what you'd just done.

"Mmmm yes sweetheart?" Sunghoon cooed as he slowly pulled out, his collarbones and forehead glistening with sweat as he hid the evidence.

"Next time, I-I wanna do it...at your place," you offered up. This was a dangerous and well, a fireable request, you both knew that. However, that didn't stop Sunghoon from bending down to kiss your collarbones and chin, beaming it with happiness.

"I think I'd quite like that arrangement princess."

[papayapiastri]

toying with you.

warnings: smut, thigh-riding. sprinkle of angst.

pairing: LN x Reader

———

it wasn’t often that you watched him train. but today was different. today; he asked you to watch.

No. He instructed you to watch.

Lando could tell something was off with you this morning. When he asked what was wrong you simply said ‘I’m fine’ or ‘don’t worry about it’.

He always knew when you were lying, even by the slightest of ways. Whether it was the way you made your breakfast; swift and without care, or the way you spoke with haste instead of your usual attentiveness.

He always noticed.

But it was just one of those days. no rhyme or reason why you were agitated.

You just were.

Unfortunately, Lando was stubborn and unrelenting. He wasn’t going to stop hounding you until you told him what was wrong. Even going as far as to wrapping his arms around your waist; pulling your frame into his own knowing how addicted you are to the comfort of his hold.

But instead of crawling into his embrace, you pulled back, resting your arms back at your sides with a grumbled sigh.

seriously lan, Im fine, just leave me alone.

As soon as the harsh words flew from your lips, a pang of guilt rang deep within your chest. Lando’s eyes flickered with a mixture of hurt and confusion, you could tell that he was contemplated whether it was something he did; whether it was somehow his fault, however, you didn’t have the energy to deal with it at the moment. Instead, you just walked away before things got worse.

It wasn’t until hours later that you started to feel like yourself again; building up the courage to go seek him out. When you found him, an unsure smile reached your lips as he sat comfortably in the living room, watching a show you couldn’t place. You tried making small talk, asking what he wanted for dinner, asking what he was watching…

…and you were met with nothing.

So many questions, yet after your little outburst this morning, it seemed Lando gave you the cold shoulder for the rest of the day. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him when you were met with the silence, or the slight shrug of his shoulders.

Childish. yet, you knew you deserved it.

So, you were definitely surprised when you received his text later that evening.

I’ll be in the gym at 7. join me

You stared at the screen. Puzzled. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard; wanting to send a plethora of questions. Never had Lando asked you to join him for his gym sessions. He flippantly claimed you were too much of a distraction.

But before you could respond, a tiny speech bubble bounced across the screen.

wasn’t a question y/n. be there at 7.

Your eyebrows furrowed. no emojis, no x’s or o’s that would be littered through his usual texts.

Just a direct instruction that you felt obligated to follow.

So here you were, attempting to silence your racing thoughts around why Lando asked you to be here. He hadn’t said a word to you since you entered the room. Your skirt delicately brushed against your skin as you watched him; your legs bouncing anxiously as you sat there. waiting. patiently.

You tried distracting yourself with the way the warm sun sizzled against your skin, painting the room with a golden hue. Or the way the heat caused droplets of sweat to hypnotically fall from Lando’s messy curls. Or the way your eyes naturally gazed down to his arms; veins tensed as his hands strained against the grip of the weight above him.

it worked for a moment. that simple distraction.

but now, you found your thoughts consumed by something else…

your thoughtful gaze found itself trailing down, noticing how lando’s shirt rode up ever so slightly; exposing his v-line.

While on a usual day you would be salivating at the outline of his boxers, today, all you could focus on were his thighs as they flexed with even the slightest of movements.

You couldn’t help as your stomach fluttered with butterflies at the sight.

stop it. You mentally chastised yourself for objectifying something that was so inherently innocent, but you couldn’t help yourself. there was something so lewd, about the picture in front of you.

The sudden sound of Lando’s trainer snapped you out of your trance. Heat rushed to your cheeks, painting ur skin in a rosy pink hue as you forced yourself to look away. You weren’t about to get caught staring; especially by Lando’s trainer.

A moment passed as they exchange pleasantries, a day well done apparently. You were too distracted to notice, but at least Lando’s tone seemed light as he sent his trainer off with a curt grin.

It wasn’t long before you felt a curious set of eyes fall on you. Analysing. Reading you like you were an open page of his favourite book. “Seems I’m more of a distraction than you are.” He murmured bemusingly “Something on your mind?”

Your eyes snapped back to his, surprise painting your features at Lando’s unexpected blasé nature despite of everything that happened this morning. You shook your head; lazily leaning back onto your seat and crossing your arms in annoyance. “Care to explain why you’ve been ignoring me all day?”

With a click of his tongue, Lando shook his head “Your words y/n, you wanted to be left alone so—" his voice trailed off for a small moment.

“I left you alone.” He shrugged.

You hummed in response. You should have felt content with his response. It made sense. Yet, a part of you still felt jaded and hurt by his cold demeanour towards you.

As if immediately recognising your hesitancy, a tired sigh fell from Lando’s lips. “Come here.” He murmured, extending his hand towards you. Curiously, you pushed yourself off of the couch with a huff, taking small, uncertain strides towards Lando as he eyed you with sincerity.

Before you could react, Lando roughly grabbed your wrist, forcefully tugging your body down to his own as he placed you on his thigh. You squealed at the sudden gesture.

“Lando!” you scolded as strong arms snaked its way around your waist in an attempt to steady you and ur pulsing heart. With a hand to your chest, you attempted to calm your uneven breaths.

Lando couldn’t help the hearty chuckle that bellowed from his chest, not even bothering to hide the smirk that was plastered across his face. He loved seeing you flustered in every way imaginable.

“Sorry.” He muttered nonchalantly. Clearly unapologetic as he brought his hand to your face; his fingers brushing away the stray hairs that found themselves out of place, instead, placing them neatly behind your ear. “Now—” He began, his tone shifting slightly more serious, “Want to tell me what’s been happening in that pretty little head of yours?”

You could barely register the words that were said. Instead, all you could focus on was the friction that bound tight at your core, the thin lace of your panties that suddenly strained against Lando’s skin.

He seemed unaware, still distracted by your hair. the very hair you wish he’d bury his hands in and tug on the strands; maybe he’d call you a little brat for your behaviour this morning—

You silently wondered if he could see right through you. What you were thinking. The fact that even the smallest of movements could crumble your resolve.

“Y/n?”

Your eyes widened as they snapped to his. His smirk had fallen to a boyish grin as his gaze swirled with newfound amusement. He tilted his head, trailing his fingers from your hair to your jawline. With a hum, he spoke lowly, “If you’re not interested in talking about this morning, why don’t you tell me what’s got you so flustered?”

Lando’s jaw clenched as he assessed you. every movement, every flinch. Anything that could give away the clear desire that you felt building at your core.

You sighed heavier than expected. “I’m not flustered. I’m annoyed.”

“With me?” He tilted his head curiously whilst his fingers continued their exploration down the side of your throat, crossing over every divet before letting his hand rest behind your neck. His grip was light, but noticeable. Your skin exploded in goosebumps at the anticipation of something more. You wanted, needed, something more.

“Especially with you.”

“Mm…” he hummed approvingly, wetting his lips as his other hand began its teasing assault on your hips, drawing up your skirt ever so slightly as he tightened his grip. “Anything I can do to fix that?”

You shook your head. attempting to use one of your hands to push yourself off of him. This time, you weren’t surprised at the sudden clutch of your wrist. However, you were surprised by how easy it was for Lando to pull you further into him. The harsh movement causing his muscles to flex, sending pulsating waves to your core. You bite the inside of cheek, attempting to hold in the whimpers that threatened to escape, but nothing could hide the rosiness that burned across your skin. A constant reminder of Lando’s effect over your body.

“Are you sure y/n?” he teased, softly grabbing the side of your cheeks with his index finger and thumb before bringing his face close to your ear.

“you must be so...” you could barely hear his voice as he murmured sweetly against your skin, trailing soft fleeting kisses trailing down your neck. “frustrated.”

Your hands curl around his shirt, gripping the cotton as you attempted to ignore the delicious assault. “You’re toying with me?” you mutter, taking in shallow breaths as your eyes flutter closed; your senses consumed by Lando’s every movement.

You feel him smile against your skin “only because you’re letting me.”

“Admit it.” he whispered, leaving lingering kisses across your collarbone. The feeling of his lips hovering against your sensitive skin sent electric shocks down your spine. So much so, you didn’t even notice how your back arched; your head tipping ever so slightly to give lando access to even more of you.

He sighed longingly against you “Spending the whole day without me to get you off. You were practically drooling the minute you saw me.”

Embarrassed couldn’t begin to describe how you were feeling, but it was especially made worse by the amused laugh that reverberated from the man in front of you. “Talk to me baby— ‘miss your sweet voice.”

“What’s got you so needy for me?”

There was no hiding from Lando. You could either tell the truth and face the potential lifetime of embarrassment that would soon follow, or, lie, and not get what you wanted.

What you really needed.

Let’s face it. you weren’t in the mood to be denied.

not tonight, atleast.

“Your thighs.” You murmured. Barely a whisper, barely a breath. You wondered if he even heard you. especially since he didn’t seem to react to your words. Instead, his chaste kisses travelled up your neck; one planted softly on your cheek before reaching messily to the side of your lips.

Lando pulled back for a moment, shamelessly admiring you. While you averted his gaze, you took a peek at him through your eyelashes; attempting to fight the thrashing heat against your skin. “There we go.” He hummed approvingly. “Was that so hard?” He tilted his head, a familiar sense of mischief dancing on his features.

But a moment of silence followed. Any sense of urgency that Lando had seemingly dissipated as he lazily leaned back, continuing to assess your features. His hands clutched around your wrists; taking away any possible chance of escape.

“Well?” You snapped. all this work to get you to admit something so humiliating and depraved and now… nothing?

“Well what?” he questioned with a scoff. “You think I’m going to help you?” You could tell he was still toying with you. Clearly, he was still mad about this morning.

“I’m just respecting your wishes baby.”

What a childish little prick— Heat returned to your cheeks, as you realised what he was doing. you tried averting his gaze, pulling your hands back so you could leave, but you couldn’t, he was too strong. Any tug at your wrists would be met with him pulling you back tenfold.

With a click of his jaw and a boyish grin he cut the tension with his teasing voice, “Come on baby; you don’t need to ask, just take what you need from me. Anything to make you feel better.” His tone dripped with mockery, there was something about it that felt so degrading, almost as if he enjoyed seeing you clearly suffer; clearly needing more than what he was willing to give.

You shook your head: your lips in an ‘o’ shape as you sat there in disbelief. a small moment passed, one that felt like a lifetime.

Fuck it. If he’s so adamant on playing this game with you, then you might as well win it.

“You’re fucking insufferable.” you murmur, forcing yourself out his grip to plant your hands into his curly strands; leaning your body further into him and positioning yourself perfectly against his thigh.

Pulling at the strands, a low groan rumbled from Lando’s chest. The sound sending waves of pure euphoria through your body as you repeated the same assault he practiced on you; nipping and pulling at his skin with each intense kiss.

You whined lowly as you felt Lando’s hand begin to travel under your shirt, his cool fingers causing goosebumps to reappear on your skin as he slowly traced across your stomach; your chest; before roughly gripping your breast. it didn’t take long for your body to respond to his, melding into one another.

You needed him. His fingers, his tongue. his cock. anything that could help release the tension that pooled at your core. Hiding your face into the nape of his neck, you planted small kisses against his skin; revelling in the faint oud smell of his cologne; continuing to roll your hips against him to aid the lingering ache between your legs.

“Has my baby become a slut for me just from my thighs?” You hear Lando tease yet his voice sounded far as you remained trapped in the sensations of his hands. His fingers drew hypnotic circles around your nipple as his other hand harshly tugged at your hips, rhythmically following your own movements. For a small moment. You wondered whether Lando knew how strong he actually was, whether was aware that the tight grip he had on you were would leave haunting bruises on your skin the next day. marking you as his, and only his.

You pulled away from him, causing his fingers to fall from your delicate skin. You look down, frustration clearly plastered across your features. “please lan.” you whimper softly. You felt your pleasure building ever-so-slightly; waves of heat radiating across your whole body yet—

it wasnt enough, it would never be enough. You knew that. He knew that.

“Please what?” his mocking tone sent a shiver coursing through your spine as he tilted his head. - slight curve teased his lips. “You had so much to say this morning, but now, it seems you can barely find your words.”

“Stop punishing me.” You grumbled.

“Punishing you?”

“I’m not punishing you y/n. you’re the one who told me you wanted to be left alone.” He said matter-of-factly. Even so, his eyes lingered downwards, watching as his fingers trailed over your exposed thighs, across the soft skin before planting himself right between your legs, tracing over the delicate fabric; hovering over the sensitive nerves that ached to be touched.

“Look at you. you’ve made such a mess for me already and I’ve barely even touched you baby.” His other hand rested around the nape of your neck; his thumb gently tapping the side of your throat, as if he was teasing the thought of tightening his grip.

You hated it. You hated how humiliated you felt. Lando had you melting on top of him, writhing in the most degrading way imaginable without so much as a thought of release for you.

You turned your head slightly, a breathy sigh leaving your lips at the realisation.

“Y/n.” Lando called knowingly; pulling your focus back to him before your thoughts could sabotage you further.

Your attention snapped back to his as his eyes trailed longingly over your features. “if you need me, you better start using your words. no more hiding in that pretty little head of yours.”

it was funny that even in such a intimate moment Lando tried to counsel you, make you feel better; safe, supported. He’d been that way your whole relationship; which only made you feel even more guilty for snapping at him this morning.

fine. he wants me to use my words. so be it.

You pondered his words with a small smile before leaning in, wrapping your arms around his tense shoulders. Your lips brushed against his in the slightest of touches. “Lan, I need you. ‘need you so fucking bad.” You weren’t afraid of a little begging, you knew how much he loved it.

Your fingers trailed the back of his neck before delving back into his hair. “Need your fingers to help get me off, d‘you think you can do that for me baby?” You whispered.

His eyes widened at your sudden directness. “Fuck…” he hissed as you tugged on his curls. you could tell he was caught off guard, but that quickly washed away as you felt his grip tighten around your waist; guiding your hips as they rolled against him. “There’s my sweet girl.” he muttered. Fingers that were previously wrapped around your neck disappeared into your panties; the large digits not even hesitating to roughly push against your aching clit.

You felt that familiar pressure build and build as his fingers circled your core. Controlled and rough.

It didn’t take long for the melding of pleading whines and pleasured moans to fill the room, you begged for more, and more, and more; pushing your hips further into him as Lando praised, worshipped and fulfilled you completely. “So beautiful— so fucking wet for me.” he muttered harshly; possessively.

It only took his sinful tone to send you to the point of no return; pulsing waves flooding your body leaving you a whimpering mess in Lando’s hold to keep you steady as he continued to shower you with affirmations “that’s it baby, cum all over my thigh; show me desperate you are for me.”

You felt his movements slow, giving you a chance to breathe while sending aftershocks up and down your spine. You hid yourself in his neck, exhaustion hitting you out of no where. You left a small kiss at the base of his neck as your heart rate attempted to lower itself.

Lando comfortingly trailed his other hand down your back. “See baby, a lot of good can come from using your words.” He quipped lowly.

“Should try it again next time.”

[multistoty]

Hope let out a disgruntled noise when her and Jess’s room door opened and the member of their polyamory couple’s dress shoes came into place. It was the anniversary of Hayley’s death and everyone seemed to have forgotten. Except for Alaric who had screamed at her for an hour about being reckless and detailing about her evil father and dead mother. He tears had come fast and thick. Landon had been on about one game he wanted to get and Jess was going to pick up food for them on their own little excursion. The tribrid’s loved Julian but they weren’t really the type to comfort eachother. He wasn’t cruel enough to make some sort of stand up comedian role about this, but she hated being a burden or making anyone worry. The furrow of his brow told her all she needed to know even from her place in the corner in Landon’s oversized shirt and the cardigan she stole for when the wonderful vampire disappeared for a few minutes. She probably looked like a water logged rat with the splattered paint that her magic would have to fix before the others came and shivering form with sweat soaked hair and mascara running dark tracks from her bright blue orbs. A temper tantrum probably added to the headmasters narrative. A disgruntled fond groan still left her lips. Feeling slightly guilty when his young adult novel love interest smile drooped low for a few moments. “Come for a victory lap?” She teased half heartedly. Pale lips trembling slightly.

@shadcwruuler

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Code to your heart

pairing: lee felix x amab!reader

genre: fluff, smut

word count: 12.5k

description: Felix pines over his oblivious coworker. But a new project at the office becomes a chance for him to get closer to his crush.

warning/s: swearing, time skips, masturbation, lots of mutual pining, mc and felix are both oblivious, oral, handjobs, cum swapping, kinda public sex, protected sex, bulge kink for a moment, dirty talk, praising, light bondage, lots of aftercare (lmk if i missed something)

a/n: i enjoyed imagining and writing this so much and i am so proud of it, i hope y'all enjoy this too!🥹🫶🏻

~check out my: Masterlist

How long has it been since you haven't moved from your desk? Four, five, six hours? You've lost track of time, your brows are furrowed, eyes red from lack of sleep, your bottom lip caught between your teeth, nimble fingers gliding over the keyboard.

You haven't gotten up to get your coffee refilled yet or to eat. You didn't even notice your cup was almost empty. But Felix noticed.

He notices everything about you. Like how you only come to the office Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays. Those are the days he looks forward to the most. Your favorite color must be black because that's mostly what you wear. You have a favorite pair of jeans, black with rips on your thighs. Felix's eyes always linger a little longer on your legs when you wear those.

You take your coffee black too, your eyes always closed when you take the first sip. Felix's face scrunches up when he imagines the bitter taste of it. You run your hand through your hair multiple times whenever you're frustrated, only to have it fall back into your eyes. You bite your lower lip when you concentrate.

Felix could go on and on, and does that make him creepy? No, he is just observant and you're his favorite person to observe.

You're oblivious to this, not even sparing a single glance towards your secret admirer. Somehow, you always turn your brain into work mode, tunnel vision only for the two screens before you as you type out your code.

Felix doesn't mind this dynamic (if you could even call it that), he's too afraid to actually come up and talk to you. Looking at you from afar is kind of comforting. It's safe. It helps him get through the day. Whenever he's stressed about an error or a bug in his program, he can just look up, face almost completely hidden behind his screen as he glances at you, working a few tables away from him.

After all, the two of you do different things so you don't really cross paths or communicate a lot. Felix deals more with clients whereas you just like to put your headphones on and code. It's a safe space, you get to listen to your favorite music, be in your own little world, create from scratch, every word, number, symbol and parentheses typed out with vigor and purpose.

It's lovely to do work that fulfills you but it's also frustrating and lots of times it makes you want to pull your hair out or punch through your screen. But, it's nothing a good cup of strong coffee can't solve.

And Felix knows this. He knows that whenever you start feeling frustrated, you get up to get more coffee. He's at his desk, looking at you losing your mind. You're running your hand through your hair, biting your lip, shaking your leg. Something's got you worked up and Felix has been gathering his courage for three fucking months.

He's gonna do it. He will get up, get your coffee from the machine and he will bring it to you, strike up a conversation, maybe ask you out. His skin starts itching from nervousness and he has to get up right now, before he chickens out again.

Felix shuffles hurriedly to the machine, before you can get up and ruin his plan. He puts his coins into the machine and punches the button for black coffee. He glances back at you, your back now turned to him and he gulps as he looks at the broad expanse of your shoulders.

This really is not the right time to think about your shoulders or your arms, not when he's already so nervous to even come close to you. The machine beeps and Felix grabs the coffee, his heart leaping out his chest.

"Lix, hi!"- he almost bumps into his coworker Jisung as he turns around.

"Oh, hi Jisung."- Felix curses him in his mind. Wrong timing. Jisung is a blabbermouth and now he's going to ruin everything.

"Since when do you drink black coffee? I thought even dark chocolate was too strong for you."- Jisung smirks, poking fun at the poor boy.

"No, this is not for me. It's..."- Felix starts and then you're next to him suddenly. Well, next to the machine. And you drop your coins in and punch the button for the black coffee. Shit.

"It's what?"- Jisung tilts his head.

"Nothing, I gotta get back to my desk."- Felix mumbles, almost skipping back to his designated place, embarassment settling in his bones.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid Jisung. Why did he have to come in the wrong moment? Stupid Felix. Why can't he just come up and talk to you like a normal person? He groans, hiding his face in his hands, his body shrinking behind his desk. And that stupid cup of black coffee staring at him, mocking his predicament.

He can't even bring himself to look up at you, he feels so embarassed, as if you can read his mind and know what his intentions were. Felix sighs, fingers gliding over his keyboard, you didn't even acknowledge his existence when you came up to the coffee machine. If you were interested in him even a little bit you'd probably strike up a conversation, Felix thinks. He sees you communicating with some of your colleagues, laughing with them and he wishes he was the one causing that laugh and twinkle in your eye.

-

It's been a week since Felix's lame attempt at talking to you and he's contemplating what to do again. Should he try the same thing? Should he just come up to you like a normal grown up and say something like 'hey, I think you're hot, wanna go out?'. No, there's no way he would ever do something so bold. With his luck, he would probably accidentally do or say something embarassing and you'd never talk to him again.

But his luck is about to change.

"Felix, I need to see you in my office."- his boss comes up to his desk.

"Oh, okay."- Felix nods, confused if he did something wrong. He glances at your desk, but you're not sitting there anymore.

He takes a deep breath in, preparing himself mentally for whatever awaits for him in his boss's office. What he least expects is to see you sitting in one of the chairs.

Felix stops in his tracks, legs turning to jelly, his heart beating hard against his chest, hands shaking. How to breathe? Because he feels like he can't remember the basic things his body automatically does.

You turn around and look at him, your eyes traveling from his feet to the top of his head and Felix feels scrutinized. Fuck, is his hair messy? Did he fuck up his eyeliner this morning? Does he have something between his teeth? Did he accidentally forget to change out of his pjs before coming to work?

Felix's feels like his last brain cells have just abandoned him.

"I'm sure you two already made acquaintances, Felix and Y/n."- your boss gestures between the two of you with his hands, smiling like nothing important is happening. Like you aren't just two steps away from him, and he can smell your cologne and it's making him feel dizzy.

"Yeah, sure."- you nod, a small polite smile on your face, your eyes unreadable. Felix's chest vibrates with nerves, excitement rushing through his veins. You've noticed him?

"Yeah!"- he says, a little too enthusiastic and then cringes internally at himself.

"Well that's good because we have a huge project coming up. I've been monitoring both of your work recently, and I've decided that coupled with the skills you two have, the time you put into your work and your results, you'd be my best people for this."- your boss says and is Felix dreaming? Is he dreaming? Because this can't be for real.

"These are the clients files, Felix you will take care of the promotion and marketing, Y/n you will take care of coding and implementing the product. Ofcourse, this isn't something only the two of you can do so I'm also assigning you a team. But I want the two of you to come up with ideas how to implement this because through your creative work, I can see you have a similar thought process."- your boss explains, giving you a folder of documents.

You seem unphased as you flip through the pages while Felix is literally melting into a puddle, he wants to scream, cry or claw at the wall, or possibly all of the above.

"Questions?"- your boss asks.

"When can we start?"- you ask, ready to tackle any task you've been given.

"As soon as possible."

-

Felix follows you as you make your way out of your boss's office.

"Wanna get started right away?"- you ask.

"Yeah, sure, I just finished the last assignment I had."- Felix answers, trying to calm himself down and hoping to all the gods that he looks normal on the outside.

You nod, making your way towards your table where you leave the folder.

"You want some coffee?"- you ask.

"Oh sure. With milk and three sugars."- Felix says and he swears you look disgusted for a moment before you turn around and leave for the coffee machine.

"Thanks!"- Felix calls behind you and you dismiss him with a wave of your hand.

Felix doesn't know what to do with himself. He doesn't know if you wanna work at your desk, his desk, or maybe one of the empty offices. He feels so awkward, scared that he'll embarass himself and look stupid in front of you, and he doesn't want to blow what might be his only chance.

He's startled from his thoughts by you putting the coffee cup on the table.

"Here, your coffee."- you say it pointedly.

"T-thank you."- Felix feels his face heating up as you stand so close to him.

"Maybe we should take one of the empty offices for more privacy."- you say, grabbing the folder and shrugging.

More privacy. Why would you say it like that? Felix starts freaking out as he reads between the lines.

"Y-yeah, sure."- he answers and both of you grab whatever you need from your desks before you walk into one of the empty offices.

As soon as you sit down, you take a sip of your coffee, your eyes closing like always and Felix steals a glance at you. He can't believe you're actually sitting so close to him.

After that first sip, you waste no time, going over the documents and requests of the client with Felix. The boss is proven to be right as the both of you start discussing the best way to approach this project, you agree on everything almost instantly.

For a few moments, Felix forgets how embarassed he is to be next to you as you keep your themes of conversation professional.

This is the first time you've actually taken a good look at Felix. Ofcourse, you'd say a polite 'hello' whenever you ran into him. You'd seen him at his table or walking around, talking to everyone, always wearing pastels, especially baby blue. When you're concentrated on your screen and he walks by, you see a bundle of blue just pass by your peripheral, leaving behind the sweet scent of his cologne.

You've also noticed that there's half eaten chocolate or candy on his desk always. You wonder if he has cavities with the amount of sugar he's eating, internally cringing at the thought of the artificial sugary taste.

You never noticed that he wears makeup, just a bit of eyeshadow, barely noticeable eyeliner and gems under his eyes. You never noticed that his face is full of freckles, reaching even up to his ears. You never noticed how plump his lips are, upper lip in the shape of a heart.

A thought runs through your mind; wow, he's really pretty.

Your heart skips a beat and you shake your head. No, you don't even want to entertain such thoughts. You don't want to start anything with anyone, you enjoy being alone and free, only having to care for your cat. Humans are complicated. You don't do complicated, unless it's a code. And even the most difficult algorithms are easier to you than people.

Business. That's what you're going to concentrate on. The task before you. You dismiss thoughts about Felix, almost ignoring his presence as you start working on a data flow chart.

Felix on the other hand, sweats profusely across from you. He's also working on his laptop but it feels awkward. He's used to yapping away with someone even while he works but you're so zeroed in on your screen that it seems like you don't even care that he's there.

How is it so easy to strike up conversation with anyone except you? Felix swears his brain turns to mush whenever he tries to formulate sentences in front of you.

"Felix? Are you listening?"- you wave your hand in front of his face, and oh my god you said his name. Felix perks up immediately, his neck and face burning up like a fucking forest fire as you stare at him.

"Um, you were saying?"- Felix fake coughs, trying to cover up that he was zoning out.

"I said I'm done with the flow chart. If you wanna look at it?"- you say, turning your laptop towards Felix.

"Oh right, sure."- Felix nods and you get up and sit next to him, sliding your laptop closer. Fuck fuck fuck. He can't do this, Felix has no idea how he'll take being so close to you, yet so far away.

"So, this is what I was thinking..."- you start explaining, and Felix listens, he really does but you smell so nice, your hair looks so soft and your knee bumps into his a few times. His insides turn into jelly but he makes himself listen. He can't afford to make a fool out of himself in front of you. He wants to impress you.

He concentrates and adds his input, and you stare at him as he talks, your eyes roaming all over his face. Just why are you looking at him like that?, Felix thinks as his heart beats out of his chest.

Your eyes fall to his lips as he keeps talking, and Felix sees your tongue dart out shortly and lick your bottom lip. Fuck.

"Anyways, yeah, so what do you think about that?"- Felix finishes.

"Sounds good. We're on the same wavelength. We should have a meeting with the rest of the team tomorrow. Jisung and Minho probably already went home. And I don't think Changbin is here today at all."- you conclude.

"Yeah, I agree."- stupid. 'Ask him out! Do it! Just say it!', Felix's brain screams at him.

"Looking forward to working with you, Felix."- you smile, a genuine smile, your hand reaching towards his.

"Yeah, me too!"- Felix beams at you, shaking your hand.

Something flutters in your stomach. Those damned butterflies! You get up as fast as you can, gathering your things because the office suddenly seems smaller than it did before.

"See you tomorrow."- you say, and turn around, speeding out the door before Felix can even react.

Felix sits there for another five to ten minutes, the smell of your cologne lingering around him, your voice still echoing in his ear, the feeling of your hand holding his still on his skin.

How can he recover from this?

-

The next day, you arrange a meeting with your coworkers. Felix wants to strike up a conversation that doesn't involve work with you. But it seems that being closer to you feels like you're even further away than you usually are, a few desks away from him and not acknowleding his existence.

You're concentrated on your coding, mostly talking to Minho and Changbin since they're programmers too. The three of you keep exchanging ideas and talking about things Felix doesn't understand as deeply as you do.

At the end of the day, you politely greet everyone and slip away like sand slipping away through his fingers.

And that happens every single day of you working together on the project.

Ten days later, Felix is becoming more and more frustrated, and today's been a particularly bad day all together and Felix makes mistakes the whole time.

"Are you even paying attention?! We're gonna be behind because of you."- Jisung rolls his eyes in annoyance.

"Cut him some slack, Jisung."- you chime in before Felix can even open his mouth and hey, what the hell. You stood up for him! Felix feels like he can conquer the world, climb the highest mountain, dive the deepest sea, fly up into the sky and probably land on the Moon.

"Sorry."- Jisung mutters. "I'm just on edge."

"We all are."- Changbin adds and it's true. The client keeps changing and adding requests, and he's too particular about everything, making all of your team want to pull their hair out.

"Next week, I'll be working from home only. So, we can just use Zoom for meetings, okay?"- you announce at the end of the shift.

Felix is disappointed. Now, he's not even gonna see you for a whole damn week. He hasn't been without you for more than 2 days in the last few months and he doesn't know how he'll survive working without getting a dose of you.

-

Felix chooses to work from home that week too. His roommate and friend, Chan, is out of town so he can sit in his living room freely and type away.

He's on his couch, munching on some gummy candy as he works when suddenly he gets a notification to join a zoom meeting. He looks at it and freezes. Your name is on the screen.

He quickly fixes his hair, already embarassed that he's wearing some dumb gaming merch shirt, it's too late to change it right? Is the apartment even clean?, he thinks and looks around. The frame of what you'll see seems fine so he connects to the meeting.

Felix fully expects to see his other three teammates but it's just you. You on his screen. In a plain white shirt, your hair still wet presumably from a shower, posters on the wall behind you, lofi music playing somewhere in the background.

Fuck, you look delicious, Felix almost starts screaming at the screen. How can you be that gorgeous without even giving it any effort?

"Hey, sorry to pull you into a meeting without warning but I just wanted to go through some of the things we talked about on Friday with you."- you say.

"Yeah ofcourse! Don't apologize. I was working anyways."- Felix says, moving his hand and accidentally rustling the bag of gummies next to him.

"Are you munching on candy again?"- you ask, with a knowing smirk and Felix swallows. This is the first time you asked him anything that has nothing to do with work.

"Well yeah. Sugar fuels me."- Felix shrugs, flashing you a bright smile.

"You'll get cavities."- you shake your head.

"That's a problem for tomorrow."- Felix says and you chuckle. His heart hammers in his chest, he can't believe he made you laugh, even if it was just a small chuckle.

"Well then, let's talk about today's problem."- and there it is, back to work again.

Felix deflates a little but there is still a spark within him, a spark of hope for anything blossoming between you, even if it was just a friendship, he would be happy to be by your side.

You work through your ideas together, and Felix sees you're ready to end the meeting so he panics and attempts to make you stay on the call a little more.

"Why did you take a week to work remotely?"- he blurts out. Fucking cringe. Why did he ask something like that?! You probably have your own private reasons and now he's prying into your life like some kind of desperate fool.

You look taken aback by the question and Felix wishes his couch would open up and swallow him, making him disappear forever.

"Oh, well, my cat is sick. So, I have to take him to the vet and be with him while he gets better."- you answer, and Felix absolutely melts.

"You have a cat?"- he smiles at you and you nod, returning a smile.

"Dimples."- you say.

"What?"

"My cat's name. It's Dimples."- you chuckle, your cheeks becoming a little rosy. Felix screams internally. You're not only handsome and intelligent. You're fucking adorable.

"Don't ask."- you wave your hand as Felix opens his mouth.

"Can I see him?"- Felix beams at you.

"Oh, sure. Let me get him."- you say and get up.

Felix catches a glimpse of your sweatpants, his insides churning at the sight. He has some time to look around the room you are in, and he leans in closer to get all the details imprinted in his mind. The posters hung on your wall, a cool lamp in the corner, a bookshelf full of figurines and well books, a guitar case on the floor.

Your bed, slightly unmade, with black covers and a black fluffy blanket.

"Here he is. Mister Dimples."- you appear suddenly, startling Felix as he backs away from his laptop a little.

"Oh my god! He's adorable!"- Felix gasps.

"Isn't he just the prettiest?"- you say, eyes shining as you look at your cat and nuzzle into him. Dimples meows, trying to get out of your grasp, obviously not having it.

Felix doesn't know if he wants to squish you in that moment or if he wants to be squished by you.

"Alright, he's not in the mood right now."- you chuckle, letting Dimples hop out of your arms. "But, I swear he's a friendly cat usually."

"He's not like too sick? I mean, he'll be okay?"

"Oh, yeah he'll be fine."- you smile, some kind of intimate atmosphere settling between you and your coworker. Your stomach does that butterflies thing again and you panic.

"Well, anyways, revise what I sent you in that document and then we can continue tomorrow."- your demeanor changes and Felix straightens his back and nods.

"Sure!"

"Bye, Felix."- you say and end the meeting abruptly.

Felix sits still for a few moments. Did he do something wrong? Did he cross the line somehow? Did he make you uncomfortable?

He sighs as he opens up the document and pops another gummy in his mouth.

So what if he gets cavities.

On the other side of the screen, you're taking a few moments too. Seeing Felix without makeup, dressed casually, with his hair unkempt made you feel some type of way. He looked even prettier than he does at work, if that was even possible.

It's hard enough to resist talking to him every day at work, but now that you've seen him in a relaxed state like that, your mind races.

Images run through your mind and you wonder how his soft lips would feel against yours. How pretty his legs would look all wrapped around your waist. How sweet his moans of pleasure would sound if you had your way with him.

Oh, what the hell is wrong with you?

-

Felix can't sleep that evening. Now he knows what your room and your bed look like. Now he can really imagine one of his many scenarios. One that involves the two of you in your bed.

In his half-asleep state, Felix feels hot as he imagines you on top of him, his hand sliding down to the tent in his boxers. He imagines you taking complete control over him, your kisses demanding, hands bruising and hips unforgiving.

He wants to surrender himself completely, let you touch him however you want, fuck him however you want.

His hand wraps around his leaking cock and he wishes it was your hand squeezing him, demanding sweet release from him.

He lets himself moan loudly, hand speeding up, lost in the thoughts of you, your voice, your smell, your touch. Felix cums hard and as soon as he comes down from his high, shame rushes into his brain. He can't believe he just did that.

-

Monday. That dreadful day. Felix is afraid of facing you, like you'd know what he did. He didn't touch himself to the thought of you only once, not even twice, he did so three times. The things he imagined were getting more visceral every time and when he walks into the building and sees you getting coffee, he is mortified.

He hesitates, almost tripping over his feet as he slowly makes his way to you. You sense a presence and turn around only to be greeted by Felix's shiny eyes and freckled cheeks. Your face heats up and you turn back to the coffee machine again.

"Morning."- you mumble, avoiding to look at him. Fuck, why does he look especially pretty today? His hair is in a half updo, there's little shiny stars around his eyes and lipgloss on his lips. It's all sparkly and sugary but his eyes shine the most as he looks at you. You can't take it.

"Good morning!"- Felix says nervously, why did you turn away like that? Can you actually read minds?, Felix is panicking again. Can you see what he's been thinking about all week? He catches a glimpse of himself in the glass nearby, he put in extra effort today and even wore his favorite baby blue shirt. He hopes you'll notice.

"You're getting coffee too?"- you say, grabbing your cup, still avoiding to look at him, cursing those damn insects buzzing around in your stomach.

"Oh, yeah."- Felix accidentally zoned out again. He gulps when he notices that you're wearing those damn ripped jeans, they're so tight. He can't help his curious eyes as they flit towards the slight bulge in the middle, and he feels something coil in his stomach, his throat dry.

"I'll be in the office."- you break his stare and he gasps quietly, looking up at you. Thankfully, you were staring at your phone with your brows furrowed.

"Okay."- Felix nods as you spin on your heel and hurry across the room.

When he walks into the office, he notices it's just the two of you.

"Where is our team?"- Felix asks, sitting down and opening up his laptop.

"Changbin will be here shortly, around 10 I think. Jisung has a meeting. Minho has to work on another project today."- you say, checking the schedule as Felix admires your organization.

"So it's just the two of us."- you add quietly, and Felix catches a glimpse of a shy smile as you stare at your screen. His heart jumps, almost too hard, like it's leaping out towards you.

"Good. Okay. That's good."- Felix's leg bounces up from nervousness. You're already typing away and his eyes fall down to look at your hands.

That's when he notices it, a hair tye on your wrist. Now, that would be normal if it was a black one like you always wore, but this one is baby blue.

Is Felix imagining things or did you wear it on purpose because you know that that's his favorite color? His heart can't take the thought of that.

"Good morning, suckers!"- Jisung breaks the comfortable atmosphere, as you and Felix work while listening to some lofi hiphop mix.

"Morning, Ji."- Felix greets his coworker.

"Morning."- you say, not looking up from your laptop.

"It's not even 10 and I'm already exhausted."- Jisung rolls his eyes.

"Bad meeting?"- Felix asks, sipping on his sweet coffee.

"Bad client. Was on my ass the whole time. They bombarded me with messages last night! And then they found more shit to complain about this morning. Like I didn't have a whole sleepless week because of their project."- Jisung huffs, his nose scrunched up in disgust.

"Ah, I'm sorry Ji."- Felix says, and Jisung waves his hand.

"Minho's taking me on a little road trip this weekend so we good."- he smirks. "I just had to vent a little."

"Ooh, a road trip? That's so romantic."- Felix sighs, leaning his chin on his hand. You look up at him from your screen, his eyes shiny as he stares into the distance.

"When are you gonna get some?"- Jisung smirks.

Felix's face becomes as red as a tomato in record time when he hears you cough on the left of him.

"Anyways, I revised the last entry our client made. Should be able to upload the numbers into the database now."- you break the conversation and Felix can see your cheeks becoming rosy.

"Great work!"- Felix says, he doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable and he definitely doesn't want Jisung talking about his non-existent sex life in front of you of all people.

"Thank you, Felix."- you smile, and Jisung looks up at the both of you.

Felix looks around, suddenly feeling like he's missing something.

"Oh! I forgot to bring my candy."- Felix whines and your eyes fall on his pouty, glossy lips. Images of you kissing that pout away run through your mind and your heart starts racing faster.

"Um... these are your favorite, right?"- you reach into your backpack and pull out a brand new bag of Felix's favorite candy. You have no idea what prompted you to do this but that damn bag of candy has been in your backpack for two whole weeks.

"Oh!"- Felix gasps, butterflies errupting in his stomach all the way to his chest where they flutter around his heart. "Yes, they are! You got them for me?"

"Well, yeah. I don't exactly have a sweet tooth."- you say, 'except for you', you think but bite your lip.

"That's... that's really nice of you. Thanks, y/n."- Felix is at a loss of words. "By the way, how's Dimples? Is he better?"

"Dimples?"- Jisung raises his eyebrow.

"My cat. Don't ask."- you shake your head and Felix giggles, and then cringes internally at himself.

"He was sick. And to answer your question, yes, he's good now. Back to normal. Zoomies and all."

"That's great news."- Felix smiles, feeling triumphant that he knows something more about you than your coworkers do.

Jisung observes the whole interaction, a knowing smirk on his face.

-

The project is almost done. Just a few more finishing touches. Felix fears that you'll go back to basically being strangers, passing by each other's desk when you go to get coffee.

The last week he's barely seen you, since you had no real need to come to the office. He's bummed and Jisung notices.

"Why so blue?"- he comes up to Felix. "Pun fully intended."- he motions towards Felix's blue sweater.

"I'm just tired."- the usual sparkle in his eyes is dim.

"It's y/n, isn't it? You've been ogling that man ever since the first day he walked into this building."- Jisung smirks. Damn him.

"What? I don't ogle. I... observe... and what's it to you anyways?"- Felix gets defensive, feeling embarassed that someone noticed his crush.

"Woah damn, I'm just worried about you. You don't seem like yourself these last few days."- Jisung points out.

"Sorry. I'm just worried... that we'll go back to being nothing. Not that we're anything special right now. But at least we talk. And I don't know, I- I like him a lot."

"Just like?"- Jisung smirks.

"Don't start, Ji."

"In my humble opinion, both of you are fucking idiots. Why don't you just talk to each other like normal grown-ups? If I never confessed to Minho, we wouldn't be enjoying our wonderful time together right now."

"Thanks, but no thanks."- Felix shakes his head making Jisung laugh. "I don't think he even looks at me that way."

"Oh so you're not just a coward, you're also blind."- Jisung snorts.

"Did you come here to insult me or comfort me?"- Felix smacks Jisung's arm.

"Ow! Both?"- Jisung rubs his arm. "You know what then? There's gonna be a party this weekend, more of a get-together actually. We will celebrate our project well done. That could be your chance to talk to y/n."- Jisung smirks.

"Ugh, I don't want to get intoxicated while trying to talk to him."- Felix cringes.

"Just two little drinks. To boost up your courage. What could go wrong?"

-

Everything. Everything can go wrong.

The evening starts out nicely, Felix put in even more effort to look pretty for you (even though you think he is beautiful always), his make up is sweet and sparkly, lips rosy and glossy. His outfit is cute too, hair in a half updo with a baby blue bow to top it all off.

You almost trip over nothing when you see him all dolled up like that, a bright smile on his face as he approaches you.

The two of you join Changbin, Minho and Jisung at a table. Everyone orders alcohol and everyone clinks their glasses together in the name of success and great teamwork.

There are more drinks sent to your table over and over again, you have no problems with that but Felix does. You're actually talking to him, probably buzzed from the alcohol and Felix tries to keep up with you, but he can't take all the alcohol well.

Pretty soon, the music seems distorted, the room is spinning and Felix's stomach churns.

You're talking about videogames you played in your childhood and as much as Felix enjoys this topic of conversation, he needs to tell you how he feels now.

"Y/n, there's something I have to- to tell you."- he hiccups, and you stop talking as you look at him. Felix swings a little, getting into your personal space and you can hear your heart hammering in your ears.

"Yeah?"- you say and he smiles a big dumb smile, his eyes closing as he starts chuckling.

Felix calms down after a few moments and opens his eyes.

"I'm-" - he starts and then his stomach betrays him as it rises up in his throat. And then everything is black.

-

Black covers. Posters on the wall. Figurines on the bookshelf. A cool lamp in the corner.

Felix squints as he looks around. No fucking way!

"Hey, you awake?"- your voice calls to him and he must be dreaming.

"What the hell?"- he whimpers as his head starts pounding.

You come closer to the bed and Felix looks up at you, still confused.

"You got shitfaced last night. Changbin left early. And then Jisung and Minho said they need to get something done but they never came back. I didn't really want to leave you alone so I brought you here. I hope that's okay."- you explain.

"Oh..."- Felix tries to remember what he did or said but his mind is blank. Then he notices he's wearing your shirt and he gasps.

"Oh my god... Did we...?"- he asks, heart pounding in his chest and your eyes widden, cheeks red in an instant.

"What?! No, no way. I mean not that I wouldn't want to... Just... Not like that... What am I even saying?"- you panic, and Felix can't believe what you just said.

"I'll go make you coffee."- you clear your throat. "Wait, I don't have any milk. Would you like a smoothie?"

"S-sure. Um... Did you change my clothes?"- Felix grips the blanket covering him.

"You puked all over them so..."

Oh that is so embarassing!, Felix curses himself as you disappear into the kitchen. How could he be so stupid and get so drunk that he didn't even remember anything?!

There is a lot he needs to process in this moment and he feels like his brain is not braining at all. He embarassed himself in front of you, he incovenienced you by making you take care of his stupid drunk ass, you literally saw him almost naked and not in the scenario he was imagining and now he's in your room. In your bed.

Everything around him smells like you and he's overwhelmed. Something stirs in his gut. God, please, not now!

"Hey, breakfast is done."- you appear in the doorway.

"Oh, I'll be right there. I just need to use the bathroom first."- you nod and show him where it is.

Your shirt is so big on him and he pulls it down even more, feeling exposed in his boxers. He makes his way to your bathroom and when he's done, he finds you in the kitchen. Your aparment is not too big but it's stylish and full of knick knacks that are just so you.

The sight of Felix in just your shirt makes your brain go haywire. His thighs look so plush and delicious, you just want to squeeze them.

"Um, do you have any pants I can wear?"- he asks as if he knew what you were thinking.

"Oh, right, sorry. I'll go find something."- you say, pushing the smoothie glass towards Felix.

"Thanks."- Felix whispers, he feels so awkward and his brain still can't wrap around the fact that he slept in your bed and that you made breakfast for him.

As he waits for you, he hears rustling to his right and he turns and sees your cat sniffing the air and checking him out.

"Oh, Dimples hello!"- Felix greets the cat, squatting down and beckoning him to come closer. Dimples shuffles towards him and after sniffing his hand, he immediately nuzzles into him.

"He likes you."- you say as you walk back in.

"I like him too."- Felix smiles up at you and you feel your face heat up.

"Here."- you give him some sweats to wear and he puts them on, having to tie them up tightly around his waist.

"So, how shitfaced did I get last night? I mean I don't remember anything, so I wanna know... What'd I say or do?"- Felix asks, already nervous. But it can't be that bad since you took him home and took care of him.

"Um... well..."- your face is beet red as you avoid Felix's eyes. Fuck, what did he do?

"You tried to... to kiss me."- you mumble and Felix freezes.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!"- he panics, his face falling into his hands. Felix wishes he could erase his entire existence in that moment. "I am so sorry! I don't know why I did that!"

"Really? Cause you also kinda told me that you're in love with me."- you deadpan.

Felix can't believe he fucked up this bad.

He feels like he could cry right now. And he probably will, his eyes are already watering and he buries his face as deep as he can into his palms.

"Felix? Are you crying?"- you ask cautiously, trying to look at him.

"No."- he says, his voice muffled. "Yes."- he adds, and looks up at you, a single tear streaming down his freckled cheek.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because I fucked everything up and I feel so embarassed. I literally dumped all my emotions on you and tried to kiss you. I would totally understand if you don't feel comfortable with me anymore."- Felix sniffles.

You stare at him for a few moments before you start chuckling. His eyes widden as he looks at you.

"You didn't fuck anything up. If I wasn't comfortable, I wouldn't bring you here, would I?"

"No?"- Felix shakes his head.

"Look, I turned you down becase you were drunk and I didn't want us to do something only to have you regret it in the morning. If I was ever gonna make a move on you, I'd do it while we're both sober, preferably."- you chuckle, your cheeks rosy again.

"You... what?"

"Even though I tried do deny it, I couldn't. I... like you too Felix."- you say. Felix thinks his hearing has gone bad or he's hallucinating.

"But, I would like for us to be friends first. I- I need time to warm up to people. If that's okay with you."

This is it. Almost seven months of fucking pining for you and daydreaming 24/7, you are the one to confess to Felix.

He can't help the huge smile spreading on his face.

"I'm totally okay with that! More than okay!"

-

As Felix comes to find out, you weren't joking when you said you need time to warm up to people.

It's been almost 6 months since he drunkenly confessed to you, and your relationship hasn't upgraded much since then. At times he feels like your cat likes him more than you do.

Yes, you hang out outside of work now but it is not that different to Felix than hanging out with his other friends.

He feels hopeless again, you never even talk about that day like it didn't even happen. Did you forget about what he said? Did you not like him as he likes you anymore? How does that just come up in a conversation?

Felix doesn't know how to ask you, he sits contemplating at his desk. He catches a glimpse of you, getting up and greeting Minho. He doesn't do it on purpose but he overhears a part of your conversation.

"...you know for our dinner party on Friday. I have a date for you if you don't wanna come alone."- Minho said.

"Oh, I'm kinda seeing someone so that wont be a problem."- you say. What?

"Ooh, I didn't know that! Who's the lucky guy?"- Minho smirks.

"You'll see on Friday."

What the hell? Felix's heart drops to his stomach. That's why you haven't made a move on him. You're seeing someone. He knows it's probably dramatic but at that moment he feels like his whole world is crashing down around him.

His vision blurs and he stands up abruptly, turning around and making his way to the bathroom quickly.

Much to his dismay, the bathroom is occupied and he's not about to cry in front of his coworkers. He runs into the first empty office and closes the door. Tears are already running down his cheeks, and he tries to calm himself down. He can't be caught crying like this at work.

To his horror, the handle turns and the door creaks open.

He slowly turns around, eyes already red from crying and ofcourse it has to be you.

"Felix?! Are you okay?"- your concerned face turns into a face full of confusion as you come closer to him.

"No, I'm not."- he shakes his head.

"What's wrong?"- you reach out to touch his shoulder but he avoids it.

"D-don't. You're seeing someone, I bet they wouldn't like seeing you touching someone else."

"What? What are you talking about?"- your brows furrow.

"I overheard your conversation with Minho. I didn't mean to eavesdrop but it happened."

"Oh that."- you sigh. "I was- I was talking about you."

"Me? Aren't we hanging out as friends?"- Felix asks, sniffling and wiping his tears off.

"Yeah but I thought we were clear with our feelings."- you say and Felix chuckles.

"Oh my god, I am so stupid."- he rolls his eyes in disbelief.

"Were you crying because you thought I was going out with someone else?"

"Maybe."- Felix says, embarassment settling in. "I didn't know if you liked me anymore."

"I guess I have to do something to convince you I do then."- you say, gently laying your hand on his cheek. You slowly lean in closer and Felix's eyes widden.

Is this really happening?

Felix's lips part and yours press your lips into his, they mold together like they were made for each other.

Both of you stay still for a moment, Felix's eyelashes and cheeks are still wet and you bring your other hand to his cheek and gently swipe your thumb over his skin. You start moving your lips against his, and oh my god, you are kissing him.

Felix melts into you, kissing you back with everything he has, hands grabbing at your arms to help him ground himself because at this point he feels like if he doesn't hold on he will float away.

You wanted to give him an innocent kiss just to show him that you do actually see him as more than a friend but the pent up emotions both of you had bubbling inside you started spilling out.

Your mind is racing, Felix's lips are so soft and plump, they taste like the strawberry lipgloss he wears, the candy he loves the most and the sugary coffee he drinks every morning. Under any other circumstances, this much sugar would make you puke but with Felix you couldn't get enough.

Your hand holds the back of his neck, other hand sliding down to his waist. Felix whines, lips parting more and you lick his bottom lip to ask for permission.

He lets you in and your tongues dance together as you keep tasting him, both of you are grabbing at each other desperately, Felix's hands gripping your shirt as you pull him in closer.

"Felix..."- you whisper on his lips before you lean in to kiss his jaw, his breathing gets shaky, fingers digging into the material of your shirt.

You're in a trance, he's intoxicating and you wonder why you haven't kissed him before. Your lips press below his ear and Felix whimpers quietly, head falling back to give you access.

You kiss the soft skin on his neck, his sweet perfume making your pants tighten.

"Y/n..."- Felix moans when you lick at his neck and bite down, sucking on his skin. Your hands grip his hips and you push your middle into his.

"Ahh!"- he moans, grabbing at your arms again.

You lean back and look at him, both of your eyes glazed over with lust.

Felix looks down at the obvious tent in your pants and gulps. You smirk and run your hands to the back of his thighs. He gasps as you lift him up on the table, his legs falling open for you to slot your hips between his.

"I want to make you feel good."- you whisper, leaning your forehead against his.

"Here?"- he swallows, glancing at the door.

"Right here."- you smirk, biting on your lip.

"Okay."- Felix is desperate, his hips are already lifting up towards you, his cock straining in his tight jeans.

You put your hands on his thighs, gently running them up and squeezing occasionally and Felix squirms. You unbutton and unzip his jeans, sliding them down slowly as he lifts his ass up.

His heart is beating so fast and he can't believe this is happening. He's been dreaming about you for so long, dreaming of giving himself to you, belonging to you in every sense of that word. He's more than ready to let you do whatever you want with him.

You hook your fingers in his boxers and slowly slide them down too. His cock springs up from the confines and you wrap your fingers around him, tip already leaking with precum.

Felix keens at the sight of your big hand wrapped around his cock and he ruts up into it.

"Someone's eager."- you smirk, thumbing his slit.

"Ahh- I'm sorry!"- he whimpers.

"Don't be, I think that's sweet."- you say, squeezing him a little.

"Mm..."- Felix grips at the end of the table.

You give his cock a few tugs, your other hand on his inner thigh, squeezing the flesh.

"Please, please, oh my god!"- Felix whines desperately pushing up into your hand. He's touch starved and thirsty for you, he can't take any teasing. You understand and drop down to your knees and he gasps as he looks at you.

"W-what are you doing?"- he whimpers as you gently fondle his balls, your other hand moving on his tip.

"I'm taking care of you. Just relax."- you whisper, leaning in closer and pressing your lips on the soft skin of his inner thigh.

Felix mewls, completely surrendering to your touch, his mind gone from the stimulation you're giving him. You cover his thighs with pretty love bites, hands working on his cock and balls. You think he looks so beautiful in this moment, head thrown back, tongue lolling out of his plump lips, fingers gripping at the table, his legs spread wide and his cock leaking just for you.

You need to taste him so you lean in and wrap your lips around his tip.

"Ah, fuck!"- Felix whimpers loudly, clamping his hand over his lips and glancing at the door.

You smirk around his cock and take more of him in your mouth. Felix's moans are muffled by his hand and you're not having it. You reach up and gently grab his arm tugging it down.

"I want to hear you."- you say, releasing him with a pop.

"B-but people-"

"I don't care. I want to hear how good I'm making you feel."- you look at him, eyes dark with lust and Felix whimpers, his cock twitching.

"Okay."- he nods and you take him in your mouth again, your hands roaming whatever part of his body you can reach. He gives in completely, leaning his body into you, lifting his legs up and pressing his heels into the table so you have full access to him.

You bob your head on him faster, no gag reflex as you practically swallow his smaller cock, the salty taste of his precum sweet on your tongue.

"Ah, y/n, I'm close!"- Felix whines, trying to push you away but you grab his hands, intertwining your fingers with his as you speed up even more.

His legs start shaking, heart beating hard against his chest, his thoughts are swimming with only you as he looks down at you. You may be kneeling in front of him, but to him you look demanding and authoritative as you play with his body.

It's like your eyes full of lust, lips wrapped around him and hands squeezing the flesh of his thighs are ordering him to cum for you. Whines of pleasure keep spilling from his lips, body shaking as he spasms and cums hard down your throat. You swallow almost all of it, savoring the taste of him.

You lift up immediately and grab his head, crashing your lips into his, tongue pushing into his mouth so you can make him taste himself.

Felix moans into your lips, eyes rolling back as he swallows some of his cum mixed with your saliva.

"Fuck."- you lean back, looking at him darkly.

"Fuck indeed."- Felix nods, still breathless.

"What about you?"- he asks, looking down at the bulge in your pants.

"S'okay. Don't worry about me. Next time."- you say as you caress his cheek gently.

"Are you sure? I want to please you."- he says and you just want to eat him up in that moment.

"You already did."- you smile and lean in, capturing his lips, giving him a kiss more gentle than the ones before.

"You free on Friday?"- you ask and Felix nods fervently.

"Great. I'll pick you up."- you say and give him another peck.

-

Felix must be having some sort of out-of-body experience as he gets ready on Friday. He still can't believe what happened in the office two days ago and he can't stop thinking about it.

Every time he remembers the way you looked at him, the way you handled him and the way you made him cum, he wants to giggle and kick his feet. He feels so giddy as he puts his outfit together, thinking how after dinner you'll take it off of him, his face gets red just from the images running through his mind.

You pick him up at 6:30, he sits in the passenger seat of your car and you lean in immediately and peck his lips.

"You look pretty."- you tell him, your stomach swarming with butterflies but by now you've decided to just go with the feeling.

"T-thank you. You look handsome."- Felix smiles sweetly at you, his cheeks rosy.

God, he'll be the death of you.

You arrive at Minho and Jisung's shared apartment on time and as soon as Jisung sees the two of you enter together, he yells.

"Aha! I fucking knew it! You owe me money, Changbin."- Jisung smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at his coworker.

Changbin groans in annoyance at him but smiles at the two of you.

"You two finally pulled your heads out of your asses, huh?"- Minho asks and Felix smacks his arm.

"Please, shut up!"- Felix whines, both of your faces red.

Your coworkers/friends don't stop teasing you throughout dinner anyways but you don't care anymore. Your attention is on Felix only, and he looks so pretty tonight, so delicate and sweet.

There's a growing need in the pit of your stomach, burning a fire inside your heart. You want him so bad.

"Hey, you wanna leave?"- you lean in to whisper in his ear as Jisung talks about some funny mishap that happened on a date with Minho.

"Oh, you wanna go home already?"- Felix looks at you, disappointment flashing in his eyes.

"No, I wanna take you home. To my house, I mean."- you say, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Oh... Oh! Okay! I want to!"- Felix says, cursing himself for acting so eager like he's desperate (he is).

"Well, this was fun and all but we gotta go. I have somewhere to be in the morning and Felix is sleepy, right?"- you look at him and Felix plays along, faking a yawn.

"Y'all can just say you wanna go home and fuck."- Jisung smirks.

"I'm never coming to your dinner party ever again."- Felix throws a piece of bread at Jisung, face red in embarassment and Jisung just laughs obnoxiously.

-

As soon as the two of you walk into your apartment, Dimples runs towards you meowing loudly and butting his head into yours and Felix's legs.

"He's hungry. As if I didn't feed the little gremlin before I went out tonight."- you shake your head, a fond smile dancing across your lips.

Felix chuckles and follows you into the kitchen.

"You want something to drink?"- you ask, after feeding your cat.

"No, thanks."- Felix says, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. Why does he feel so awkward suddenly? You must be feeling awkward too, as silence settles between the two of you.

Felix screams at himself on the inside, willing himself to make a move but you beat him to it as you step closer to him, cornering his body into the kitchen bar.

"Oh"- he gasps a little as he looks up at you.

"I know I said this before but you look so pretty tonight. I love the sparkles on your eyes. And the bow in your hair. It's very sweet."- you compliment him like it's nothing and Felix melts, his face turning into a tomato.

"T-thank you. I- I dressed up for you."- he says quietly, voice wavering at the end.

"You did, hm?"- you smirk, bringing your hand to his waist, your fingers brushing the exposed skin where his crop top rode up.

"Yeah."- Felix nods, his eyes fluttering as you caress his face and hold his waist. He leans into your hand and you lean closer to his candy lips.

"Can I kiss you?"- you whisper, breath hitting his skin.

"Please."- he says, relief painted in his deep voice.

You crash your lips into his, wasting no time for an intro as you pour all your passion into it. Felix becomes putty in your hands immediately, opening his mouth so you can explore him with your tongue.

You keep kissing, hands roaming all over each other before you hear Dimples meowing on the right. You part, chuckling and looking at the little cockblocker.

"Let's go to my room."- you say and Felix shivers, nodding as you grab his hand.

Dimples makes himself comfy on the couch and you pull Felix into your room, closing the door behind you.

"Now where were we?"- you smirk, hands tangling into Felix's soft hair.

"You were kissing me."- Felix smirks back at you and you chuckle, leaning in to kiss his neck. Felix's arms wrap around your waist as he leans his head back into your hand. You craddle his head and bite down hard on his skin, sucking a love mark into it.

"Mm..."- Felix moans, pushing his hips into you.

Your kisses keep getting more and more heated, your hands sliding down his back to grip his plush ass. You both stumble towards the bed, your back colliding with the shelf next to it, the figurines displayed on it rattling from the impact.

"Let me..."- Felix whispers before he kneels down, hands on your jeans button. You nod and he opens it up, unzipping them and sliding them down.

Felix's hand ghosts over your bulge tentatively and you push your hips towards his face. He can see that you're big and his cock twitches in his pants as he squeezes you through your boxers.

"Take them off."- you say and Felix complies immediately, fingers hooking in your underwear. As soon as he pulls it down your cock springs out slapping his face.

"Sorry."- you chuckle and Felix groans as he feels precum pooling in the panties he wore for you.

Fuck, you're so big! Felix prays to all the gods that he can fit you in his mouth somehow. His small hand wraps around the base of your cock, the tip of his tongue playing with your slit.

You can't wait anymore, you want to fuck his pretty face and see him gag on your dick.

"Open your mouth."- you order and Felix's eyes glaze over with lust as he opens his mouth for you. Your hand holds his head as you slowly push in, just the tip and a little more.

Felix moans around you immediately, eyes fluttering as he starts bobbing his head up and down, taking more and more of you each time.

"Fuck."- you look at him, his plump lips wrapped around you, his lipgloss staining your cock.

You grip his hair and Felix whines around you pushing himself to take more as his hand works the rest of it, he leans towards you and gags, tears gathering in his eyes. He looks so perfect with his mouth full of your cock.

"Ah, fuck. Just like that baby. You're doing so good."- you praise him, and Felix knows he's done for. His cock throbs for attention and he starts moving faster, sucking you off with everything he has, taking as much as he can, gagging and crying as he gives it his all.

You're close but you don't want to cum yet. Not until you've fucked him, so you pull him off of you and he whines, tongue chasing after your cock.

"Patience, baby."- you smirk at the state of him. He looks completely disheveled, his makeup is ruined and his cheeks are red, eyes dark with lust.

"P-please..."- he coughs a little.

"Tell me what you want."- you lean down to look at him, your hand still tangled in his hair.

"Touch me, please."- he begs.

"Get on the bed."- you say, helping him up and he obeys, laying down on your fluffy blanket. You kneel between his legs, hovering over him and Felix is so excited, reality feels so much better than all his imagination.

Your hands slide on his body and you take his top off, fingers play with his sensitive nipples as you kiss each and every freckle you find on his skin.

You take his pants off and your eyes darken with want when you see what he had on under them the whole time.

"Do you like it?"- Felix asks, batting his long eyelashes at you as your finger plays with the lacy hem on his panties.

"I love it."- you lick your lips, hands grabbing his thighs so you can push his legs up and keep them open for you.

"You're so hard and wet just from sucking my cock, hm?"- you ask, palming him hard without warning.

"Ahh!"- Felix moans, hands gripping at the blanket, hips lifting up into you.

"Mm yes, y/n."- he whines and you smirk, gripping at his panties. Felix looks down just in time to see you ripping them in half.

"Oh!"- he gasps and you grab his cock, giving it a few tugs.

"I want full access."- you smirk, grabbing the ruined panties and throwing them somewhere behind you.

"You have it."- Felix whispers, mind racing from the thought that he's finally at your mercy.

His knees are pressed to his shoulders and you grab a bottle of lube from your night stand drawer.

"Stop me at any time, okay? We don't have to do anything you don't want."- you say, caressing the back of his thigh gently.

"Okay."- he nods and you open the lube bottle, coating your fingers in it generously, letting it warm up a little before you press your fingertips on his fluttering hole.

"A-ah, y/n!"- Felix whines as you circle your fingers on his entrance.

You slowly start pushing in, meeting a little resistence as you bury your fingers into him. His eyes roll back and his cock twitches as you keep pushing in.

"You're sucking my fingers in."- you say and Felix whines in embarassment, it's been too long since anyone touched him or talked to him like that.

He covers his face with his hands as you start moving your fingers and curling them to hit the sweet spot inside him.

"You okay?"- you ask, hand coming up to touch his.

"Yeah, just embarassed."- Felix answers, peeking at you from between his fingers.

"Of what?"- you ask, slowing your fingers down.

"Just embarassed for myself in advance because I haven't done this in a long time and I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing."- Felix says as he moves his hands away.

"You don't have to do anything. Just keep your legs open like that and I'll do all the work. Your task is to enjoy and let me hear how much you're enjoying."- you smirk and press into his sweet spot.

"Oh!"- Felix shivers. "O-okay... Ah, whatever you want, y/n."- his head falls to the side as you keep hitting that spot over and over again, moans spilling from his pretty lips.

His legs start shaking and his cock twitches as you add another finger, stretching his tight little hole as you keep pushing deeper and faster.

"Oh my god!"- Felix whines but before he can cum, you pull your fingers out and he fists the blanket in frustration.

"Why'd you stop?"- he almost cries.

"I can't wait any longer. I need to be inside you."- you say, grabbing a condom you took out with the lube.

Felix looks down at your cock and gulps. He hopes he'll be able to take it, he wants to take it. He wants you so bad that he is willing to work extra hard just fo fit your dick inside him.

You roll the condom on, lubing up again because you really don't want to hurt Felix, you want to see him get lost in pleasure.

You rub your tip on his hole and Felix mewls, holding the backs of his thighs and looking down at your tip teasing him.

"You ready?"- you ask.

"Yes."- Felix nods and you slowly start pushing your cock into him.

His eyes roll back as you stretch him and you look down, biting your lip at the sight of his hole sucking your cock in.

Felix's eyes are closed and he lifts his hand up, blindly reaching out for you. You immediately grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, your other hand squeezing the back of his thigh.

He's whimpering so you stop and let him adjust for a moment.

"You okay?"- you ask, leaning down to look at his face, his nose scrunched up and brows furrowed.

"Yeah, it's just... I've never taken a cock this big."- he admits sheepishly and your face heats up, and the blood rushes down again making you impossibly hard.

"Oh yeah? You're doing so well, though."- you smirk, pushing the rest of your cock slowly inside him. Felix whines, gripping your hand and the blanket. Fuck, you're even bigger than in his fantasies and his whole body starts shivering with anticipation.

He looks at you, his eyes shining and you start moving slowly.

"Ah, you're so tight baby."- you say, hips moving in a rhythmic motion and Felix whimpers at the way you talk to him.

He feels so warm and tight, stretching just enough to have you fit snuggly into him, his flesh molding around your cock like it was made for you.

"You're taking me so well."- you praise him again, hips moving faster. His cock twitches at the praise and you smirk leaning down to kiss his neck, collarbone and play with his nipples.

"Ah, y/n!"- he moans as you circle one of his nipples with your tongue. Your hand ghosts over his thigh to his neglected cock and you grab him, moving your hand in time with your thrusts.

"F-fuck, oh god!"- Felix stutters out, his hips jerking up into your hand.

"Feels good, huh?"- you ask, fucking him harder, your cock hitting his g-spot.

"So good! So good!"- Felix cries out, holding your hand in a death grip but you don't care about that. All you care about is making him feel good.

"Please, faster!"- he whines.

"Faster?"- you tease, slowing down a little, your hand squeezing his cock, thumb sliding over his slit.

"P-please... please fuck me faster, y/n!"- he begs with tears in his eyes and you comply, hips snapping into his ass faster and harder.

Felix is a mess under you, he can't think anymore, all he can feel is you everywhere around him, above him and inside him. His free hand grabs at your shoulder, he wants to feel you even closer to him. You lean down and kiss him, swallowing the moans that are spilling from his pretty lips.

You release his cock for a moment, pressing down on his stomach where there's a bulge showing.

"Ah, you're in my guts."- Felix whimpers as he looks down at your hand.

"You like that, don't you?"- you grip his thighs and start fucking him harder again.

"Like being filled up with cock, hm?"- you say, watching Felix fall apart when you talk to him like that.

"Yes, yes I do!"- he moans loudly, your hips snapping into his hard again, hand working on his cock.

"Good boy."- you praise and the sound that comes from his lips sounds almost animalistic as his cock twitches in your hand. He's on the edge of his high, you can see that.

"My good boy."- you repeat and that's all it takes for Felix to explode all over himself while moaning your name. The sight of him shaking while you milk his cock dry brings you to your edge and you finish inside the condom, your hips stuttering and cock buried deep inside Felix's ass.

"Oh god."- he whimpers when you slowly pull out, taking off the condom.

Felix's vision is blurred from tears of pleasure and he brings his hands up to wipe them away.

"You okay?"- you hover over him.

"Yeah. Just need a moment."- he smiles at you and you lean down to kiss his forehead, your lips lingering on his hot skin.

"Where are you go-"

"Just relax, I'm gonna bring you some water and clean you up, okay?"- you brush your knuckles on his cheek gently and he nods.

Felix feels blissed out, eyes searching around your room as his legs finally relax. He hears rustling in the kitchen and you talking to Dimples, and he smiles to himself. He could get used to this.

You come back to your room, this time leaving the door ajar. Felix looks at you as you gently clean him up, his hair and makeup is ruined and you chuckle fondly as you take him in.

"What?"- he asks sheepishly.

"You're adorable."- you say and his face heats up.

"Shut up."- Felix whines in embarassment, covering his face with his hands and you laugh, leaning down and kissing his knuckles gently.

Dimples walks into the room, meowing curiously at the two of you right as you slip under the covers with Felix, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into your chest. He sighs and relaxes into you, his eyelids fluttering.

Dimples jumps up at the foot of the bed and curls up next to you.

"Is that Dimples?"- Felix asks, voice laced with sleep.

"Mhm."- you mutter, moving his hair out of his face and leaning down to kiss his cheek gently.

"Go to sleep, baby."- is the last thing Felix hears before he drifts off into dreamland.

-

The whole next week both you and Felix are walking around the office on cloud 9, and Jisung's constantly teasing the both of you like the annoying little shit that he is.

But nothing can ruin Felix's mood when he comes to the office in the morning and finds his favorite candy waiting for him at his desk. He smiles and sits down, eyes searching for you.

You're at your desk, deep into your screen and Felix wants to get up and greet you but he gets a notification from you.

He clicks on the message and sees a link and next to it: 'download and play this game. it's rlly short, you'll love it (hopefully)'. His eyebrows shoot up in excitement as he clicks on the link.

It downloads fast since it's short and he clicks on the candy icon, realizing it's his favorite candy, the one you leave for him on his desk every day.

When the game opens up, it says 'made by y/n for felix' and his heart leaps out of his chest. He clicks on the play button and is greeted by a little 2D pixelated world bursting with cute pastel colors, and a little character that looks exactly like him. Down to all the details, the bow he sometimes puts in his hair, the sparkly make up, freckles, his favorite blue shirt. He gasps and starts moving with the character, jumping over obstacles.

Huge pieces of his favorite candy start rolling into the screen and he obtains the ability to double jump so he can avoid getting hit by the candy.

He manages to get to the gate at the end and when he clicks on them, the door opens up and a character that looks exactly like you walks out, a cat following behind you.

A bubble pops up and it says: "you've obtained a boyfriend (and a cat)! how do you wish to proceed?" and there are two options under it that say 'keep playing' and 'quit'. Felix clicks on 'keep playing' and the screen fills up with hearts, candy and Mister Dimples, all of it exploding before his eyes until it shows yours and his character holding hands.

Felix is melting and smiling brightly, his face red and you get up, making your way towards his table. Felix looks up at you and you smile at him, leaning down, one hand on his table and the other around the back of his chair.

"That- that was so cute! I don't know what to say!"- Felix almost cries, in disbelief that you actually made a game to ask him to be your boyfriend.

"Just let me kiss you."- you say, your hand coming up to hold his chin, tilting his head up.

"Yes, please!"- Felix whimpers a little and you smirk leaning down to kiss his sweet lips.

"Meet me in the empty office before lunch."- you whisper in his ear and Felix nods, his stomach exploding with butterflies.

-

Felix didn't know what exactly to expect in the empty office but he didn't expect to be bended over the table, hands tied with his own shirt, your cock buried deep inside him.

"Ah fuck! Y/n, oh my god!"- Felix almost yells as you keep hitting his sweet spot repeatedly.

"Shh baby, you don't want anyone to come in and interrupt us."- you say, your big hand splayed on his lower back as you press him down.

"No, I don't."- he quickly shakes his head.

"You want me to keep fucking you, right?"

"Yes, yes please!"- Felix begs desperately as you halt your movements.

"Then just be quiet for me and take it, okay?"- your grip his tied wrists.

"Mm, yes."- Felix moans quietly and you start fucking him hard again, hands grabbing at his plush ass, hips and his pretty waist.

Felix's hands are balled into fists, and he bites his lip, almost drawing blood as he tries hard to keep his moans in.

"I'm close, I'm close!"- he whines.

"You wanna cum for me?"

"Please, let me cum for you!"- Felix whimpers, tears sliding down his cheeks.

"You can cum."- you say and he explodes immediately, cumming untouched as your name spills from his lips like a prayer.

"What a good boy."- you praise him and feel him melt under you as you thrust harder into him, chasing your release and cumming into the condom.

You pull out and lean down, caressing his back.

"Lix? You okay?"- you ask.

"I've been fucked hard."- he says and you chuckle, fingers coming up to play with his hair. "But yeah, I'm okay. More than okay. If you could just untie me now."- he giggles and you smirk.

"Hmm, should I just keep you tied up like this?"- you tease and he whines.

"Alright, alright. I'm just joking."- you say, untying his hands and helping him lift up.

After you both clean up and get dressed, Felix grabs at your shirt and pulls you in closer.

"Wanna eat lunch together?"- you ask, craddling his head in your hands, fingers tangled in his hair.

"Yeah but before we leave the office, I wanna ask something."- Felix says.

"Yeah sure, anything."- you nod, caressing him as he wraps his arms around your waist.

"Did you wear the baby blue hair tye on purpose?"- you didn't expect that question and you didn't expect him to notice that.

"Oh... that... Well, yeah. You always wear baby blue and I liked looking at it while I was working from home or away from you. It was kinda comforting."- you confess and Felix's face morphs into a beautiful smile, his eyes sparkling more than ever.

"I love you."- he blurts out and then gasps as your eyes widden.

Your heart actually hurts from the love bursting inside you in that moment, and you grip Felix tightly.

"I love you."- you say, leaning your forehead on his and Felix visibly melts in your arms. You love him! He can die happy now!

You lean in, kissing the candy lips you became addicted to.

Who cares if you get cavities?

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg

(y'all I actually wanna make the game mc makes for felix ahsjslsl)

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act II, Scene II: The Crazy Idea)

After being cornered by your friends, you find yourself in an even more complicated position due to your impulsive decision.

Part warning: none, just my bad attempt at crack humor Words: 2.6k A/n: If you paid attention, I've been using his gifs from season 9 so the timeline is somewhere along there. And while writing half of this, I realized Emily wasn't even on that season, but for the sake of fanfiction and pure imagination, let's ignore the human error of this stupid author. Thank you. Let me know what you think!!

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

It took you exactly seven hours and fifteen minutes to finally gather the courage to head to Penelope's lair. The morning had been a blur of paperwork and reports, leaving you mentally drained and chained to your desk. But no matter how much work you plowed through, your mind kept drifting back to last night's disaster and how your friends had planned the whole thing.

Frustration wasn’t enough to describe how you felt. You found yourself gripping your pen so tightly it threatened to snap in your hand, and your fingers pounded the keyboard harder than necessary as you typed out reports.

Eventually, you found yourself daydreaming about ways to get back at them. You imagined a dozen different ways to plot your revenge, each more elaborate than the last, and although it provided a temporary sense of satisfaction, it wasn't enough. 

By the time you wrapped up your last report, your frustration had reached its peak. You decided you couldn't wait any longer. You headed to JJ's desk first, hoping to catch her and get some answers, but it was empty. With no sign of her anywhere and your patience wearing thin, there was only one other person who might have the answers you needed.

You made a beeline for Penelope’s office. The moment her door came into view, you knocked sharply and then entered without waiting for a response. You weren’t surprised when you found Penelope and JJ huddled over a monitor, their heads snapping up in sync at your abrupt entrance.

“There she is!” Penelope exclaimed, turning around in her chair. “We were just talking about you.”

“Oh, really?” you replied, crossing your arms. “I wonder what could possibly be so interesting about me.”

Penelope and JJ exchanged a quick look, barely suppressing their chuckles. 

“How did it go last night?”

You groaned at the memory. “I can’t believe you guys tricked me!”

JJ laughed and turned to you, her expression almost apologetic. “Look, we’re sorry, okay? We just thought it would be…” she looked over at Penelope, trying to come up for a word before settling with, “Fun.”

“Fun?” You exclaimed. “Manipulating your friends into awkward situations is your idea of fun?“

Penelope waved her hand dismissively. “It couldn't have been that bad. Did you guys talk it out?”

You stared at her pointedly as if the idea of you having that conversation with him was absurd.

“No.”

“Did he apologize for anything?”

“No.”

“Come on, there had to be some deep, meaningful conversation,” JJ chimed in, trying to hold back a grin.

You scoffed. “No.”

“Did he walk you home?”

“No—wait, yes, he did,” you admitted, recalling the memory. “But he complained the whole time about how inefficient my route was and how there were, and I quote, statistically shorter paths to my apartment.”

“How sweet of him,” Penelope observed, deciding to ignore the last part of your rant. Then she wiggled her eyebrows. “Did he lean in for a goodnight kiss?”

“What? No!” You sat on the only empty chair in the room, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Nothing happened.”

“Did he at least say something sweet when he walked you home?” Penelope prodded, trying to dig deeper.

You shook your head, a resigned sigh escaping you. “No, because it was nothing like that. We talked, we ate, he walked me home. That’s it.”

“Sounds like the start of something to me.”

“Totally the start of something,” Penelope nodded enthusiastically.

You rolled your eyes. “There’s nothing to start because we can’t even stand each other.”

“Well you know what they say,” Penelope sang. “There’s a thin line between love and hate.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, trying not to show how unnerving her assumptions were. "That's ridiculous."

“But he walked you home,” she pointed out.

“So?”

“So that’s got to be something,” JJ joined in. “Spencer’s not exactly known for going out of his way unless he wants to.”

“He was just being polite,” you insisted, feeling cornered. “He walked me home because my apartment was on the way to his place.”

Penelope tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, on his way, or making a way?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache brewing. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Maybe he’s being subtle about it,” JJ suggested, trying to sound reasonable. “He’s not that forward when it comes to expressing his feelings.”

“No, guys, it wasn’t anything like that,” you insisted, your voice rising slightly in frustration as your eyes moved between the two of them. The room felt smaller with each passing second, the walls closing in as they stared at you expectantly. They were enjoying this way too much.

“Oh, but it could be,” Penelope persisted. “You’re both single, smart, attractive people who spend a lot of time together.”

“You two are unbelievable.”

“It’s okay, you can tell us,” she continued, her voice softer now as she reached out to pat your hand. “We’re your friends, and if there’s something more, we’d love to support you.”

“Or if you prefer to keep it a secret, we won’t tell anyone.”

“Exactly. You can trust us. We’re really good at keeping secrets.”

“So good.”

“So good.”

Your patience snapped, frustration and pressure boiling over. “Fine! Yes! We’re going on another date!” You blurted out, the lie spilling out in a moment of desperation before you could stop. “Happy now?”

Silence fell over the room as Penelope and JJ stared at you, stunned. Then slowly, realization dawned on their faces, and a chorus of excited squeals filled the air.

“Oh, I knew it!” Penelope exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight.

JJ grinned at you. “Really?”

The weight of your words hit you like a cold splash of water.

What had you just done?

“This is so exciting!” Penelope gushed, her enthusiasm mounting. Then she turned to you. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

You suddenly felt a wave of panic. You scanned their faces, seeing only genuine excitement and curiosity, no hint of doubt and discomfort swelling inside you. How could you explain that there was nothing to tell because there was no second date? That it was just a knee-jerk reaction to their relentless teasing? You couldn't possibly confess now, not without making everything infinitely worse.

But how were supposed to tell him? The idea of deceiving not just your friends but also involving Spencer in this lie made you feel sick. The room seemed to spin as you tried to come up with some way to ease the damage.

“I... I wanted it to be a surprise?” You managed to say, although the words sounded more like a question. Your lie felt hollow even to your own ears, but Penelope and JJ seemed to buy it, nodding and exchanging excited glances.

“This is going to be amazing,” Penelope said, practically bouncing in her chair. “So when’s the next date?”

Your mind raced. For there to be a next date, even a pretend one, you needed to talk to him. The realization hit you hard, the full weight of the lie you'd just created sinking in. You'd have to involve him in this deception and the thought made you feel queasy. You imagined the awkward conversation, the look of confusion—and likely frustration—on his face. This was going to be a mess.

You opened your mouth, then closed it, scrambling for a response. “Uh, soon. I-I’ve got to go talk to him about it, actually.”

Penelope’s eyes lit up even more. “Oh, planning it together! That’s so sweet!”

You forced a smile, slowly rising from your seat. “Yeah, super sweet,” you mumbled, your voice barely steady. You could feel your cheeks burning as you stumbled over your lies. “I, uh, better go find him now.”

Without waiting for a response, you bolted out of the room, your heart pounding in your chest. You mentally kicked yourself with every step. You had let them get to you, allowing their teasing to push you into this mess. You couldn’t believe you had let yourself get caught up in this lie.

You paused in the hallway, briefly considering turning back and telling them the truth. The thought lingered for a moment, the idea of ending this charade before it spiraled further out of control. But you quickly shook your head, knowing that backtracking now would only make things worse. You could already imagine how unbearable the teasing and explanations would be.

No, you’ve gone too far to back out now.

Continuing down the hallway, your steps quickened as you searched for him. You finally spotted him by the pantry, absentmindedly pouring too much sugar into his coffee. You walked up to him and leaned against the counter, watching him stir his coffee with more force than necessary.

“I did something stupid,” you blurted out, catching his attention. He looked up before glancing back down at his cup.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“No, listen.” You leaned in closer, lowering your voice. “It’s about last night.”

He finally looked at you, eyebrows raised, clearly surprised as to why you would bring up anything from last night.

“What about last night?” He asked, bringing his cup to his lips.

The words tumbled out in a rush. “I was with JJ and Garcia, and they were teasing me about us, how we supposedly have this… thing going on now. I couldn’t take it anymore. So…” You watched him take a sip of his coffee. “…I told them we’re going on another date.”

He choked, the drink catching in his throat. Coughing, he set the cup down with a sharp clatter, his eyes watering slightly as he regained his composure.

“You told them what?”

“I didn’t know what else to do!” You rushed to explain. “They wouldn’t stop pushing and I just wanted them to shut up. I thought if I said something like that, they’d just leave me alone. But now they expect details, and I… I need your help.”

He took a deep breath, trying to process what you were asking of him. “Let me get this straight. You, of all people, told them we’re going on another date, knowing full well how we—” He paused, searching for the right words. “How we don’t get along. And now you want me to help you keep up this lie?”

You nodded, and he called out your name in frustration.

"Last night wasn't even a date!”

“I know! The words just… came out.” When you saw him shake his head disapprovingly, you let out a groan. “I’m not thrilled about it either, okay? But I’m kind of… desperate here.”

Spencer took another sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving yours. After a moment, he set the cup down, gripping it in his hand.

“No.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “No?”

“No,” he confirmed before turning around, walking back to his desk. “I’m not going to help you.”

You shuffled along, trying to match his pace. “Why not? This could actually get them to stop.”

“Do you even hear yourself? This is crazy. You can’t just spin lies and drag me into them because you want to avoid a little teasing,” he retorted, sitting down and starting to shuffle through some papers on his desk, clearly trying to end the conversation.

“It’s not a little teasing! They’re relentless,” You pressed, leaning against his desk. “Come on, don’t you ever get tired of them trying to set us up?”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to pretend to date you. What’s next? A fake wedding?”

“Don’t be dramatic. We just need to show up together a couple of times, act mildly interested in each other, and then we can break up. We fake it, we tell them it didn’t work out, and we move on. It’s simple.”

“Of course, because nothing says ‘simple’ like faking an entire relationship.”

You crossed your arms and took a deep, calming breath. “Look, I know it’s not the greatest plan, but can you think of a better way to get them off our backs?”

Spencer stared at you, his eyes narrowing as he considered your words. “You realize you’re trying to deceive a team of profilers, right?”

He had a point, but you weren’t about to back down. “Wasn’t this your whole idea in the first place?”

“My idea was for us to act like we get along, not pretend that we’re in love.”

“It doesn’t even have to be convincing,” you argued, leaning in slightly. “Just enough to make them back off for a while. Besides, if you start laying it on too thick, they’ll never believe it. They know you don’t have much experience to begin with.”

Spencer looked offended, his brows knitting together. “I have experience,” he countered. “Just because I’m not flaunting it doesn’t mean I’m completely clueless.”

“Oh, yeah? When was the last time you were in a relationship?”

The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and when you noticed the sudden change in his demeanor, you realized what you had just implied. There was a tensed pause as you both stared at each other. You both knew the answer to that question, and you both knew you were treading dangerous territory.

But before either of you could break the silence, a voice cut through the tension. “What are you two lovebirds fighting about now?”

You turned to see Derek standing by his own desk, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. And then you saw it, an opportunity. If Spencer wasn’t going to agree to help willingly, you were going to take matters into your own hands.

You straightened your shoulders and faced Derek. “We need to tell you something.”

Spencer sensed what you were about to do and quickly stood up. “Wait—“

“Reid and I are dating.”

You heard Spencer take a sharp inhale. There was no turning back. The nerves in your stomach tightened, but you decided to ignore it and focus your attention on Derek instead. His eyes widened in surprise, looking between the two of you.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, crossing your arms and standing your ground, while Spencer remained silent beside you, his expression unreadable. “We decided to give it a shot.”

“At dating? As in romantically?”

“I don’t think there’s another way to describe it.”

Derek stared at you both for a moment longer, then his shock gave way to a broad grin. “Finally.” He let out an amused laugh “Took you two long enough.”

He approached with a playful swagger, clapping Spencer on the shoulder and ruffling your hair, which you quickly swatted away. “Can’t say that I’m surprised, but congratulations.”

Spencer looked at you, and you glanced back at him. Derek, oblivious to the tension between you two, grinned widely.

“I guess all that tension was just unresolved passion, huh?”

Your eyes snapped at him. “Morgan!”

“Alright, alright.” He raised his hands in mock surrender, still wearing a broad smile. “I’m just happy for you both. Seriously.”

You stared at him, bracing yourself for more teasing, perhaps a joke about what supposedly happened last night, or worse, something embarrassingly inappropriate. But to your surprise, Derek didn’t press further. Instead, he simply nodded with a genuine smile and returned to his desk, resuming his work.

You and Spencer stood there, dumbfounded, not quite sure how to process the sudden shift. You both were so used to his relentless teasing that his quick exit left you momentarily speechless.

You slightly leaned towards him as you continued to stare at Derek hunched over his desk.

“Do you hear that noise?” You whispered.

“What noise?”

“Exactly. This is the sound of peace,” you replied with a slight grin, turning back to Spencer. “See? This is already working. If we keep this up, we can finally get them off our backs.”

“I still think this is a bad idea,” he muttered, giving you a pointed look.

“Do you have a better plan?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Because I’m all ears if you do.”

Spencer sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He studied you for a moment, his eyes searching your face as if weighing the pros and cons. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this…” He trailed off, looking genuinely conflicted. “This is going to backfire, you know that, right?”

Sure, he could be right, but at the same time, you believed this plan was harmless. It seemed like a simple solution: a fake relationship played out convincingly enough to appease your friends. It was supposed to be straightforward—an act, a performance without real consequences. Nothing could go wrong if you controlled the narrative.

You finally looked up at him. “Don’t worry,” you said, trying to sound confident. “It won’t.”

But as the words left your mouth, you realized, you weren't entirely convinced.

[goldfades]

thigh riding with Paige... 🤭

𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | paige is ignoring you while she locks in while playing fortnite with kk, but you needed her attention (and she hates it when you're needy)

─ word count | 1.1k (this was supposed to be a blurb bruh)

─ warnings | NSFW under the cut, read at your own discretion! kinda mean paige, thigh riding (who woulda guessed?), nothing else?

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous @plushkhiii @ilovepaigebueckerss @ajcuteee @vi0lentb3rry @paigeszn @brynsreads @delicateray

"PAIGE," YOU WHINED as she ignored you, her eyes plastered on her computer screen. You rolled your eyes as you sighed, collapsing back on the bed as your girlfriend continued playing Fortnite.

Her headset was on and her glasses were set on the bridge of her nose, her fingers clicking on the keyboard as she played. You were needy and dramatic, sure but it was for good reason, you hadn't seen Paige since the morning and you missed her. Yet right now, it seemed like playing her stupid game meant more to her than her girlfriend.

You wanted her attention but you didn't know how you were gonna get it. As you lay there, feeling neglected, you weighed your options. Interrupting her game would not go over well, but letting your feelings just sit there wouldn't help either.

"Dude they're following us, for sure." Paige mumbled into the headset as she groaned out loud. "I fucking told you, didn't I? I told you to leave it-"

Sighing once more, you sat up and watched her for a moment. The concentration etched on her face was almost endearing, but it also made you feel a bit left out. You wondered if she even realized how much time had passed since she last acknowledged your presence in the room.

An idea popped in your head as a smirk began forming on your lips. You walked up to her quietly, and put a hand on her shoulder as she looked up to see you. "Not right now, baby. Hold on,"

Hold on? Your jaw slightly dropped as you glared at your girlfriend. You couldn't believe Paige ─ her hot and very needy girlfriend was standing right next to her and she wanted her to hold on?

Gathering your courage, you spoke up again, your voice tinged with a hint of irritation. "Paige, seriously," you said, your tone firm. "I've been waiting for you all day, and all I want is a little bit of your time. Is it really too much to ask for?"

"KK, look out behind you!" Paige shouted into the headset, making you audibly groan before Paige finally glanced up at you again, putting a hand over her mic. "What? Why are you giving me attitude for, can't you wait for like, 5 minutes?"

You knew you were being overly dramatic and you knew that Paige hated when you'd give her attitude, especially for something small like this. But you finally had her attention and you were not gonna let it go now.

You met her gaze with a raised eyebrow, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, sorry to inconvenience you with my presence," you quipped, your voice laced with irritation. "I guess I'll just go find someone who actually wants to spend time with me."

Paige's eyes narrowed at your remark, a hint of annoyance flashing across her face. "Really? You're seriously going to pull that card over a stupid game?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, crossing your arms over your chest. "Why not?" you replied, a smug smirk playing on your lips. "It's not like you've paid any attention to me since you started playing anyway."

She sighed as she heard KK talk, "Yeah, I'm still here. Give me two seconds," she spoke as before she muted herself.

Two seconds, you gotta be kidding me. But before you could scoff or roll your eyes dramatically, Paige grabbed your arm and pulled you into her lap roughly. You stumbled as Paige pulled you into her lap, caught off guard by her sudden movement.

"Hey, what are you doing?" you protested, your voice tinged with annoyance as you struggled to regain your balance.

Paige ignored your protest, her grip firm as she held you close to her. "Fucking relax," she mumbled. "You're acting like a bitch in heat right now, you know that, right?"

You rolled your eyes but you couldn't help but feel yourself begin to get warm. Paige kept her gaze on you and as she pulled you off her lap for a second and gestured to your shorts before she unmuted herself. You stood there, almost shocked for a good two seconds before Paige sent you a look before you did as she told you.

You couldn't believe it took Paige a minute to win you back but you weren't complaining, you needed her. She stuck out her knee and you knew what to do ─ you straddled it as Paige kept her eyes locked on the screen.

"Yeah, you got 'em?" Paige spoke lowly as she felt your dampness hit her bare thigh, feeling a shiver go down her spine. Her cold knee sent a shiver down your spine as you bit your bottom lip.

You let a small whimper before Paige began rocking her knee, causing a full-blown moan to escape your lips. Paige sent you a warning glare as your eyes widen, your hand clasping over your hands.

"What was what noise?" Paige scoffed as she kept her gaze on the screen. "I didn't hear anything," she forced out a laugh as she kept rocking her knee, your cunt gliding against it.

You began to move alongside her knee, your head falling back as you gripped her shoulders. You felt pathetic, riding her thigh like a bitch in heat (in Paige's words) but it felt too good to stop. Your hips movements began more sporadic as Paige continued rocking her knee, muffled whimpers coming out of your lips.

Paige could tell that you were close so she put one of her hands on your hips, guiding you harder on her knee. Your eyes rolled on the back of your head as you let out a moan, feeling the knot in your stomach snap as you came undone on her thigh.

Your body felt like jelly as you collapsed on her chest, her hand moving up to the keyboard as she kept playing. A few minutes pass and you heard KK scream from her headset, glancing at the screen. She got it, she and KK had won the Victory Royale.

As the adrenaline from the game subsided, you nestled into Paige's chest, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. Despite the earlier tension, being close to Paige like this was all you really wanted.

"Yup, I gotta go, KK. Bro, I'll- yeah, yeah. I got it, I heard you the first time. Okay, I'll see you tomorrow morning." She hung up the call quickly as she pulled off her headset, her hands finally beginning to caress your back.

Paige looked down at you, a soft smile on her lips. "I'm sorry for ignoring you, pretty."

You glanced up at her with a small smile. "It's okay, you made it up."

Paige's soft smile formed into a cocky smirk as she shrugged. "Yeah and I did it with no fingers, huh?"

"None, cus you're just like that," you mumbled as she laughed softly, pulling you closer.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[vanteguccir]

Randomly kissing bsf! Matt/ Chris

── ୨୧ !　a small blurb - kissing your best friend

　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

The sun had set hours ago, casting the room in a cozy, dim light from the lamp on Chris's desk. The sounds of a video game drifted through the air, a familiar backdrop to the countless nights Y/N had spent at Chris's place. His fingers moved deftly over the keyboard, eyes fixed on the screen, a determined look etched on his face.

Y/N lay on Chris's bed, her phone in hand as she mindlessly scrolled through social media. She glanced up occasionally, watching him with a mix of affection and longing. They had been best friends for years, sharing everything from their deepest secrets to the silliest jokes. But lately, her feelings had shifted, growing into something more profound and more complicated.

She sighed softly, her heart aching with unspoken words. She loved him, and it terrified her. Every time she considered telling him, a voice in her head reminded her of the risk. What if he didn’t feel the same way? What if she ruined their friendship? The thought was unbearable.

Chris's laughter pulled her from her thoughts.

"You should have seen that, Y/N! It was epic!" He exclaimed, turning briefly to flash her a wide grin.

She smiled back, her heart fluttering at the sight of his happiness.

"I bet it was." She replied, though she had no idea what had just happened in the game.

Minutes turned into hours, and Y/N felt the weight of her emotions growing heavier. She couldn’t keep hiding her feelings forever. She had to do something, anything, to let him know. The thought of never knowing his true feelings was worse than the fear of rejection.

Gathering her courage, Y/N took a deep breath and sat up, her heart pounding in her chest. She swung her legs off the bed and stood up, feeling the soft carpet under her feet. She walked over to Chris, who was still engrossed in his game, and hesitated for a moment.

"Chris?" She called softly, her voice trembling slightly.

He paused the game and turned to her, his eyes filled with concern.

"Hey, what's up? You okay?" His voice sounded so soft and worried.

Without a word, she took a step closer, her hands reaching out to cup his face. Chris's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he searched her eyes, trying to understand what was happening.

"Y/N, what-" He began, but she silenced him by leaning in and pressing her lips to his.

For a moment, the world stood still. Then it started moving again.

The kiss was soft and tentative at first, their lips barely touching as if testing the waters. Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within her. She pressed closer, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, feeling the soft strands between her fingers.

Chris's initial shock melted away as he moved his chair back from the desk, the wheels gliding over the carpet. He reached up, gently pulling off his headphones and letting them drop to the floor with a soft thud, not caring about the game or the noise at all. His hands found her waist again, pulling her closer until she was straddling his lap.

Chris's hands moved from her waist to her back, pulling her even closer. The warmth of his body seeped into hers, and she shivered at the sensation. Their lips moved together in a slow, deliberate dance, exploring and savoring each moment.

The kiss deepened, their mouths opening to allow their tongues to meet, tentatively at first, then more boldly. Y/N felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her as their tongues touched, sliding against each other in a sensual rhythm. Her breathing grew heavier, her senses overwhelmed by the taste of him, a mix of mint and something uniquely Chris. She could feel his breath against her skin, hot and urgent, matching her own escalating desire.

Chris's hands roamed up her back, then down again, finding their way under her shirt to rest on the small of her back. His touch was gentle but possessive, his fingers pressing into her skin as if he wanted to memorize every inch of her. He angled his head, deepening the kiss further, and she felt his teeth lightly grazing her lower lip, sending a shiver down her spine.

Y/N's hands moved from his hair to his face, cupping his cheeks as she poured all her love and longing into the kiss. She could feel the stubble he hadn't done in days on his jaw, rough against her palms, a stark contrast to the softness of his lips.

Their kiss became more fervent, their tongues dueling and exploring. Chris's hands slid down to her hips, gripping them firmly as he pulled her even closer. She could feel the hard planes of his body against her, the heat between them growing more intense. Her heart raced, and she felt a thrilling mixture of nervousness and excitement.

He broke the kiss momentarily, resting his forehead against hers, both of them panting for breath.

"Angel..." He whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "I've wanted to do that for so long."

She blinked, her now wide eyes looking up at his blue ones.

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. I love you, Y/N. I've loved you for a long time." He nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips.

Her heart soared at his words, the weight of her fears lifting.

"I love you too, Chris." She confessed, her voice barely more than a whisper. "So fucking much... I was so scared."

He pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her as if he never wanted to let go.

"I was too. I was so afraid of ruining our friendship." He admitted, his voice muffled against her hair. "But now that I know you feel the same, I can't believe I waited this long."

They stood there for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside fading away. It was just the two of them, and the love they had both kept hidden for so long.

Chris pulled back slightly, his hands resting on her thighs. He looked into her eyes, his gaze filled with warmth and affection.

"I hope this is not a dream." He laughed slightly, squeezing her covered skin softly between his fingers.

"It isn't, I promise." She whispered, smiling widely.

He leaned in to kiss her again, this time slower and more deliberate, savoring the moment.

[gojo-licious]

The Big Bad Wolf?!

Summary: Satoru is a wolf hybrid and started working for your department where only prey animal hybrids work. What could possibly go wrong? It’s not like he has a crush on you, his boss who just so happens to be a sheep.

Warnings: 18+, mdni, fem! reader, afab reader, hybrids, reader is a sheep-hybrid, Satoru is a wolf-hybrid, reader goes into heat, sub-ish! Satoru, bondage (Satoru gets his hands tied up), breeding kink, pet names (baby, sweetheart), unprotected, p in v

a/n: I read "I'm a Wolf, but by Boss is a Sheep" and got inspired to put my own twist on it!

"I'm sorry Satoru-kun, but we need you to work overtime today. But I promise it’s the last time this month!“ you say empathetically, understanding that he probably wants to go home on time.

The deadline for the project your department has been working on is moving closer, much faster than anticipated. Most of the work has been already finished, but the draft Satoru sent in needs to be refined before tomorrow's meeting.

"Oh! It’s okay. I will finish my work as fast as you can and then I can drop you off at the station." Satoru replies without showing a hint of sadness or any tiredness. In fact he looks excited to spend more time at the office. Especially since it’s just the two of you left on the floor, everyone else already left.

"I'm still very sorry, Satoru-kun. I know you were excited to head home early today. You did say that one of the games you play is releasing a new DLC today. I will buy you dinner tomorrow to make it up to you, is that okay?“ you reach to ruffle his hair affectionately in an attempt to convey that you truly feel apologetic.

Satoru's ears perk up. The wolf-like ears on the top of his head stand up and his tail starts to swoosh back and forth like that of an excited puppy. Dinner? Alone with you? That’s the closest to a date he has ever had! "Of course!“ he states a little too enthusiastically. "I mean- I mean, yes, that would be lovely!"

His eagerness is delightful and elicits a giggle out of you. "Okay. I will make a reservation for us. Now, how about we both finish our work and head home, hm?" you lightly scratch behind his ears affectionately.

Since Satoru is the only predator-animal-hybrid in your department. At first it seemed to be a hurdle, since the other members of the department wanted to keep their distance. It is a little nerve-wrecking to have a predator so close at all times when one isn’t used to it. But all the worry turned out to be for nothing. Satoru is a delight to work with. He is always eager to help, very gentle with everyone and, most of all, understanding of the difficulties in predator and prey interactions. And a well-built man who can carry all the heavy things is always a plus.

"Okay Boss!" Satoru's tail keeps wagging in excitement and hearts form in his eyes as he watches you leave to your office. He lets out little whimpers at the loss of your touch but makes sure that you don’t hear how pathetic he is being.

The only sound that Satoru can hear is the air conditioning cooling the office air, providing a comfortable work environment. He honestly just wants to go home and play games, but for you, he would willingly spend a few more hours here. And the thought of walking you to the station and talking to you just sweetens the deal even more. His games could wait.

The typing on his keyboard speeds up as he understands what improvements need to be made. The presentation at tomorrow's meeting will be easy to handle for you, if he finishes up quickly.

The clock ticks on as the sky turns darker and the streetlights outside of the office window turn on. Satoru sends the final draft to you and stands up to stretch his aching back from all the hours of sitting. He packs up his bag and carries his cacao brown suit jacket on his arm as he gracefully maneuvers through the halls.

As he stands in front of the door to your office, he takes a deep breath to gather his composure and courage. Satoru looks confident and dashingly handsome as he stands in the hall, but internally he is freaking out. His crush on his superior messes with his head to the point where he stumbled over his words and, in the worst-case scenario, can’t even form a coherent sentence.

The knock on your door goes unanswered, which makes Satoru nervous. You always answer with a small come in or come to open the door yourself, but right now there is no sign of you. He raises his hand to knock on your door again, but he hears a loud thud. Satoru freezes. Are his ears messing with him?

His worry gets the best of him and he reaches for the doorknob. "I'm coming in!“ he lets you know and swings the door open. The first thing he notices is that he smells something strong. It’s your scent, but somehow stronger and more alluring. It makes his ears ring and nose twitch. The second is your face covered in a light sweat. Your hands are harshly gripping the mahogany desk as you breathe unevenly.

All the symptoms only have one obvious cause. You are in heat! This is bad. "F-fuck! W-what should I do?" Satoru asks out loud. He doesn’t know how to help a sheep who has gone into heat.

"Satoru-kun~" you whine out to him as you stand on your wobbly legs with most of your weight being supported by the desk. You look good enough to eat! No, bad Satoru. He needs to do something. "Come here~" you call him over to you.

Satoru is frozen in place. What should he do? If he gets any closer, he will have a hard time helping you. His brain is already malfunctioning. Your pencil skirt is hugging your hips so deliciously and you’re also wearing a turtleneck! It has been on his mind all day.

You walk towards him, but stumble because of the feverish symptoms from your heat. Satoru drops his bag along with his suit jacket and hurries to catch you in his arms. Your sweet scent envelops him completely. There is no way he is making it out of here without developing an even more crazed obsession with you.

Right now, Satoru feels like the prey. You yank him down by his tie and push your body weight onto him for support. "Satoru-kun, can I kiss you?" you manage to ask while looking up at him with a barely functioning mind. Your lips ghost over his.

"Are… are you sure? This is your heat talking. We need to call someone!“ Satoru panics at the thought of doing something he might regret and ruin your relationship with him forever! He can’t let that happen.

You, on the other hand, shut the door behind Satoru and push him up against it. Satoru closes his eyes in surprise and feels terrified that if he sees you up close like this, he will lose his mind.

"Toru-kun~ I like you. This isn’t only the heat. I like you a lot, I promise." you say earnestly.

The breathlessness in your voice eggs Satoru on as he gains a little more courage. "Really?" he asks as he peeks down at you with barely opened eyes. His tail starts to swish back and forth, giving away his true feelings.

"Hmm…" you hum to support your previous statement. "I really like you.“ The confession is muted since you decided to bury your face in Satoru's chest in hopes of smelling his scent better. Not only does his woody scent ground you a little, you can also hear his heartbeat pick up. It’s pounding against his ribcage. Maybe he’s nervous, or maybe he’s about to have a heart attack. Satoru couldn’t tell either.

"Y-you like me?" he’s stunned. He leans closer to you and gently cups your face in one of his hands. "Say it again, please! I need to hear you say it again," he mutters as his body heats up. His face and ears turn red and he uses the back of his left hand to cover the lower part of his face.

He looks at you with such an intense gaze. Your hand lets go of the fabric of his shirt and wanders lower and lower until your fingertips graze his bulge. The sharp inhale makes your ears perk up. "Let me show you how much I like you, Satoru-kun." you coo at him.

His false, somewhat calm demeanor breaks into pieces as he lets out a loud whine. Satoru leans in to capture your soft lips against his own. The spit, tongue and heavy breathing get to his head. He feels dizzy. He feels overwhelmed.

He breaks away from the kiss, allowing the spit to connect your lips to his for a few seconds longer. The dashing smile that follows makes your pussy quiver. Satoru wipes the spit away with the back of his hand and goes to wipe the spit away from your lips using his thumb. But what he didn’t expect was for you to take his thumb into his mouth and suck on it. "Oh~ f-fuck-" he moans out loudly, not expecting your lips to have this kind of effect on him.

His reaction makes you smirk. He’s so cute! You take this opportunity to gently stroke his cock through his slacks. Up and down. Up and down and squeeze lightly.

"Fuck- fuck! Baby! Your hand f-feels soo~ good.“ Satoru throws his head back. His hair falls over his eyes. His prim and proper look exchanged for a disheveled mess.

He pulls at his tie with one hand. Meanwhile you release his thumb from your mouth with a loud 'pop'. "Can you help me, Toru?" you ask with faux innocence in your expression, trying to hide the carnivorous look in your eyes. If only he knew you wanted to swallow him whole.

All Satoru can do is nod dumbly and let you strip him off of his clothes. The belt falls to the floor along with his slacks, boxers and shirt. The tie is repurposed by you, into a make-soft bondage. His hands are tied snuggly behind him as you push him to take a seat on the sofa in your office.

Satoru’s eyes a shining brightly under the fluorescent light. He looks like a puppy more than a wolf, with his ears pressed to his head. On the other hand, he never expected you to be the predator everyone should have been worried about in your department. A real wolf in sheep’s clothing.

"I wanna fuck you soo bad, Toru." you run a nail down his chest, teasing him. "I want to ride you and you can suck on my nipples, okay?" You throw your unbuttoned blouse to the floor, followed by your bra. Satoru’s eyes stay glued to your tits as they jiggle while you try to shimmy your way out of your pencil skirt. His mouth opens involuntarily, letting a small moan escape and hoping you will let him latch on to one. Tempting you to do so.

His reaction coaxes a giggle out of you. He’s so eager. In a way, seducing you without even trying to. "I-I want- no need your tits in my mouth. Please, please, please- I need it so bad!" he sounds delirious. So desperate to bring you any kind of pleasure.

„Like this?“ you ask teasingly as you straddle him and shove his head into your chest.

Satoru hums in appreciation and lets his eyes roll to the back of his head.

"Oh~" you sigh out in pleasure as you start to move your hips against his. Your clit bumping into his bulge repeatedly. "Yeah… such a good boy~" you coo out. „but I need more. I wish you could feel how wet I am." your grinding comes to a halt. "Actually, you can! Silly me. Here, feel.“ you slowly slip his tip in, not giving him a second to adjust to your warmth as you slide him in completely.

"F-fuck! Baby, you shouldn’t have, I‘m gonna- cum!" Satoru cums immediately. His face is bright red from embarrassment. How could this happen! He’s going to die from how embarrassing this is. Now you are going to think he can only pump once and can’t bring you any kind of pleasu- Huh?! Are you giggling? "Baby, I’m so sorry, so sorry! Nnngh- fuuuck. Wait- d-don‘t move so fast, I just came!" he rambled desperately, trying to gain some kind of control over the situation. Are you really going to overstimulate him?

"S'goood. I'm not going to last long! You need to go deeper. I want your babies! You have t- to fill me up good." You stammer out in a horny haze. It’s clear to Satoru that your heat has hit you full force.

You place your feet next to his thighs to get a better angle. This position also makes it easier for you to ride Satoru's cock like a dildo. The mixture of Satoru's cum and your slick is pooling on the sofa, but there is no sign that you are stopping anytime soon.

Both of your moans fill the room along with the wet squelching 'plap' 'plap' 'plap'.

Satoru leans his head back and allows the drool to leak from the corner of his mouth. „Ugh- I'm… baby! Sweetheart, no- not again! Please cum with me, I don’t want to do it alone. Cum, cum, cum!" he lets out a whimper followed by a loud groan that sends shockwaves through your body.

You let your own orgasm wash over you as you continue to grind against him and milk his cock of every drop. You take the opportunity to lick the drool off from the corner of his mouth that had already wandered down to his sharp jaw.

"F-fuck baby.“ he groans seductively. "You wanna go to my place so I can fuck you good? Don’t wanna let my girl do all the work, especially since she wants my babies soo bad." he teases you for your earlier comment.

"Only of you wear your glasses." you tease back with a smile smirk on your face.

"Only if I get to play with your little horns." he retorts as you loosen the tie, freeing his hands. They quickly find their way to your waist and he envelops your lips in a kiss. One of his hands reaches for your horns as he lightly races them and in turn makes you shiver from how sensitive they are.

[fourmoony]

Hey! Requesting a Remus fluff where he spots reader in the library and is completely infatuated by her. James and Sirius persuades him to go up to her and eventually builds up the courage :3

hi lovely, thank you so much for requesting! hope you enjoy :) this one realllly got away from me, but I love it sm!!! he's baby your honour...

2.3k remus x fem!reader fluff language

masterlist

Sirius has his feet kicked up on the desk, his chair balancing on its hind legs and if Remus wasn't so distracted he'd probably tell him off, make up some lie about a kid he knew when he went to primary that fell and smashed his head open, caused a scene, traumatised a teacher and a classroom full of seven year olds, the paramedics ended up coming in to do a talk on classroom safety... something like that. Sirius probably wouldn't listen anyway, but at least he'd know he tried.

But he's distracted.

For once, it's not because of James' heavy handed typing as he abuses his poor laptop's keyboard, writing and erasing, writing and erasing. And it's also not because of the obnoxious groan Sirius lets out every few minutes just to make sure Remus and James know he's still there, waiting for them to be done so they can wrap up another week of uni with a few pints at the local pub.

No, today he's fully distracted by something else.

You.

It's not fair, actually. He thinks your beauty is actually hurting him, doing something funny to his heart. Can a person's beauty physically cause heart failure? Chest pains? Maybe an anxiety attack over the existential crisis he's facing knowing he'll never be able to have you? Remus doesn't know, but he thinks James would - he's the one doing his PhD, after all. Not that Remus would ever admit to finding you so breathtakingly beautiful it's causing physical pain. No, Sirius and James would never let him live that down.

So instead, he pretends to read his textbook on astro-physics, everything he's supposed to be revising going straight over his head, while stealing glances at you two tables over. You're in your own world, furiously typing into your laptop, stopping every now and then to take a sip of the comically large coffee beside you. It's midterm season, your large coffee is warranted in Remus' humble opinion. Not that you're even aware he's in solidarity of it. James would probably have some boring medical fact about coffee stunting growth and hormones or some load of bollocks similar, but he doesn't care.

Every now and then, you'll pout at your laptop screen, tilting your head to the side like whatever is on your screen has personally offended you. It makes Remus' heart slam against his rib cage in a totally annoying, embarrassing way he wishes he could make soft. He's not a creep. Really, he's not. He knows you. Somewhat. You've met a couple times when you've been chatting to Marlene - who shares a Comms class with you - either in the library or at the pub on the occasional Friday you make an appearance with your friends. It's not like he's having these weird feelings about a stranger. Well. A complete stranger. But there's just something so startling about how kissable your lips are, so soft looking and pink, and adorable in the way your head tilts like that of a confused puppy.

Your attention leaves the screen in front of you in an instant as if you can feel Remus' pining from ten feet away, eyes scanning your surroundings, and when your eyes meet his, Remus chokes on thin air. Thin fucking air. He's so shocked you've caught him, so shocked you're actually a real person he can make eye contact with and not a figment of his imagination, that he chokes, eyes widening, and looks back down to the text book in front of him. He resigns to the awful feeling of humiliation creeping up his neck, accepts the fate of his crimson red cheeks.

"Subtle." Sirius comments, a sickening smirk that Remus just knows means he's been caught graces the former Black Heir's lips and he'd rather like to kick the two back legs out from under best friend's chair now, thanks.

Even though he knows he's been caught, Remus schools his features, because he's actually very capable of that when it comes to his friends, and returns to his book, flipping the page with what he hopes is nonchalance and shrugs, "Dunno what you're on about."

Sirius scoffs obnoxiously, just like Remus knew he would, and returns his chair back to four legs with haste, arms planted on the table in front of him and a look on his face that reads 'I hate to break it to you, but you're the most obvious bloke on the planet'. "Mate, just go over and put us all out of our misery. It's painful."

"It is, mate." James mumbles agreeably, still very much engrossed in the battering of his keyboard. It's a wonder he hasn't broken the thing, Remus thinks.

Remus rolls his eyes. If only it were that simple. How could anything be that simple when you're so infuriatingly beautiful Remus doesn't think he could get two words in to a conversation with you without making a royal twat of himself.

"You make it sound so simple, Pads, truly." Remus drawls sarcastically, eyes still downcast on the book in front of him.

He hasn't read and actually processed a single sentence since he caught sight of you on arrival. He's well and truly fucked.

Sirius scrubs his hands up and down his face like Remus' hesitance is physically paining him, "C'mon, Moony. They didn't call you the Casanova of Gryffindor House for nothing, mate."

It's Remus' turn to scoff, now. He was hardly a Casanova. Just a nice bloke who girls happened to be attracted to. But that was a private boarding school where girls had no access to the outside world apart from the odd weekend at the school's nearest village. You live in a world with people disposable at your fingertips. Coffee shop baristas, classmates, the people on the commute to your classes, there's an endless opportunity for you to meet someone of interest. And how is Remus supposed to compete with that?

"Not happening. I'll suffer in silence, thanks." Remus tells Sirius, a tight lipped smile about his face that he hopes Sirius will read as the end of the conversation.

Clearly, Sirius is no better at social cues now than when Remus first met him, because his friend rolls his eyes and returns to leaning back on his chair, legs once again kicked up onto the desk, muddy boots falling on a piece of paper Remus knows he'll probably have to rewrite, now. "All I'm saying is what do you have to lose? You ask her out she says no, you go back to staring at her like a right creep from two desks over, or," He makes a flourishing movement with his hands, ever the one for dramatics, "She says yes, you bang, fall in love, get married, have kids, etcetera, etcetera."

Sirius' smile is triumphant, like he truly believes he's some sort of genius and Remus can't help the way his lips tick up in amusement. Maybe he has a point, but anxiety still claws at Remus' chest.

"He's got a point, mate," James has pushed his laptop away from himself, his circular glasses balancing haphazardly on his forehead as he rubs tiredly at his face, "Even if he didn't, I'm still begging you to go over there just to get him," he jabs a finger at Sirius, who preens proudly, "to shut up so I can get this paper finished."

Remus sighs, mulls it over in his head, an endless list of outcomes, variables, it's what his scientist mind is programmed to think like. But he gives Sirius a look, finds his best friend staring at him earnestly, and he realises that Sirius doesn't actually see it as a big joke. He truly thinks Remus should do it.

"Fine." Remus bites, taking a breath and pushing himself out of his seat.

Sirius pumps his fists in the air so violently his chair wobbles, but Remus doesn't look back. If he does, he might turn around and give up, go back to staring from afar. God, maybe he is a creep.

You're so engrossed in whatever you're working on, you don't realise Remus hovering at the seat across from you. When you do, you jump a little, and Remus opens his mouth to apologise, but you're already speaking, a wide smile gracing your lips, features completely taken over by the kindness in your eyes - you recognise him, "Remus, right? You're friends with Marls."

Remus nods, swallows the thickness in his throat. He doesn't trust himself to talk, just yet, so he's grateful when you nod your head to the seat across from you, welcoming him to sit. You half close the lid of your laptop, offering him your full attention and wait patiently for him to talk.

"How are your midterms going, by the way?" You ask when Remus finds himself unable to start a conversation.

You don't seem put off by his apparent silence, more than happy to carry the conversation if he needs. He's grateful, because your direct question has given him a reason to speak, a boundary of the things he can say. He's not worried about shouting just how beautiful he finds you for the entire campus library to hear when he has a strict criteria of answers he can give. Well. He's less worried. It's still not impossible.

"Uh, alright, thanks. You're taking Art History, right? Hows that going?" He hopes he's not misheard Marlene's brief introduction, and he knows he hasn't when you preen at his remembrance.

You nod enthusiastically, hair bouncing over your shoulders with the movement, "Yeah! It's currently kicking my arse, but I'll pull through. I imagine it's not as hard as," you pause, brows furrowing for half a second before Remus sees a lightbulb go off behind your eyes, your smile returning, along with the smooth plane of your forehead, crease gone, "Astro-physics, right?"

Remus tries not to think about the way his entire stomach knots up and threatens to give out over the fact you know what his degree is. There's every chance Marlene has told you, like she told him your degree, but he can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, you'd asked about him. Instead, he smiles dutifully, even though he can feel his somewhat calm and collected exterior melting away, "Yeah, astro-physics. But I imagine they're equally challenging in different ways."

You seem to like that answer, following along and nodding amicably to show you're listening, "I suppose you're right. Although, I think you could explain it to me like a five year old, and I'd still be lost."

Remus laughs. Not at you, but at the perplexed expression on your face as you imagine such a scenario. You shake your head out, giving him your full attention again. You're so lovely. So sweet and nice and Remus feels like he might actually have a shot, if your kindness and patience so far is anything to go on.

"If it makes you feel any better, I couldn't tell you squat about the Mona Lisa." Remus shrugs.

It's your turn to laugh, your head tilting back ever so slightly as it rocks through you. The sound is like music to Remus' ears. He decides then and there he'll do anything, forever, to get you to make that sound again. He commits it to memory, allows it to warm his chest, potential heart attack be damned.

"You're cute, Remus Lupin." You're amused as you say it, eyes shining with a kind of fondness Remus allows to steal his breath.

He thinks maybe you don't mean to say it, at first, but when your gaze holds his, confident and teasing Remus knows. He just. He knows. You're into him, too. Maybe not as deep as he's into you, but the interest is there and that's all Remus cares about.

"A few of us are going to the pub in a few for some drinks, Marlene will be there. Did you maybe want to join us?" Remus asks, an uncomfortable heat in his cheeks even though he knows you're likely to say yes.

He chuckles when you pretend to think it over, pout twisting into an amused grin when you go to speak, "Sure, Remus. I'd love to."

Remus feels like he's won some sort of gold medal, maybe the lottery. He's not sure. But what he does know is that his blood is thrumming through his veins in a way it never has before with pure elation. You're grinning ear to ear, already beginning to pack up your things. He waits patiently while you do, following your lead in standing up. You round the table, closer to him, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"Remus?" You ask, stepping into his space and he can smell your perfume, your shampoo, so sweet he thinks he's going to pass out.

"Yeah?" He asks.

"I only have one condition."

He arches an eyebrow, urges you to go on.

"Next time, it's just us two. A proper date." You smile sweetly, completely unaware of the affect your sultry voice has on Remus' already weak knees.

His breath catches in his throat as you look up at him, your tiny hand encircling his wrist oh so carefully.

"Yeah?" His voice is gravelly, lips threatening to turn up in a wicked grin, "I'm sure we can make that happen."

Just like that, you step out of Remus' space, hand dropping his wrist and your teasing smile falling back into your soft, kind grin, "Great. I'm all yours for the rest of the night, Remus."

Remus almost groans as he leads you back over to Sirius and James, who are grinning like cheshire cats as they pack up their belongings to follow suit with you and Remus. He's met his match, he thinks. You're well and truly going to be the end of him.

Not that he cares in the slightest.

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

Dick Grayson used to be Dani Fenton

You can see it in the way he flips in the air, almost flying. You can see it in the way he switches between languages. Accents aren’t a problem. It’s almost like he’s lived there for longer than 2 weeks like he claims. You can see it in the way he celebrates with the locals, as if he’s living, laughing and dancing like he’s been there before. You can spot it in the way he handles spicy food, and isn’t scared to try new things. He can handle the weird, unique, and cultural. You can see it in the way he fights for justice and protection, because someone she used to know had the same mission. You can see it in the way he cares for his siblings; Dani’s family did the same for her. You can spot it with the way she forgives, after all, once upon a time, Danny forgave her too. You can see it in the way he fought a for freedom, she had to do that once.

Bruce Wayne used to be Danny Fenton

You can see it in the way he puts on the cowl, hands shaking, but his crusade isn’t over yet. You can see it in the way he cares for his family, even if he doesn’t show it the way he should. You can see it in the way he can handle the cold gotham nights without a shiver. You can hear it in the way his voice commands, as if his words could knock down a building with a scream. You can(‘t) see it in the way he blends in with the shadows seamlessly. You can see it in the way he relaxes on the watchtower, overlooking the void of space. You can see it in the way he gets up, because if he doesn’t keep fighting, who will?

Casdandrs Cain used to be Jazz Fenton

You can spot it in the way she reads people, a lifetime of psychology helps. You can see it in the way she’s always there, because once she wasn’t and her brother died. You can see it in the way she fights with a purpose, because she finally has the skills and courage to help. You can see it in the way she’s always ready to listen and bear your stress, because no one did that when she was struggling. You can see it in the way she protects, because she was once protected, and she is now returning the favor. You can see it in her determination as she faces the rouges of Gotham without fear of death, because death is not the end.

Tim Drake used to be Tucker Foley

You can see it in his hands that fly across a keyboard like he was born to type. You can see it in the way he keeps his gadgets on hand, he never knows when he might need them. You can see it in the way he helps, because that was all he could do. You can see it in his stubbornness, after all, someone had to convince Danny to let him help. You can see it in the way he solves cases, because he was the only one who could. You can(‘t) spot it in the way he hides, after all, he can’t exactly fly. You can see it in the way he downs coffee like he needs it to live, spending the night fighting ghost and rouges doesn’t exactly give you a good nights sleep. You can see it in the way he can assess for danger, after all, the last time he didn’t he watched his best friend die.

Damian Wayne Al Ghul used to be Dan Phantom

You can see it in the way he hesitated before killing. You can see it in the way he was desperate to be loved. You can see ut in the way he’s determined to keep everyone alive, because he didn’t do that right the first time. You can see it in the way he patrols with Jon, because he finally has someone to fight rouges with again. You can see it in the way he cares for animals. Animals don’t deserve the cruel fate life has given them. You can see it in the way he fights, desperate to prove his family’s trust, love and forgiveness was worth it. You can see it in the way he cares for Titus, who reminds him of a certain green dog. You can see it in the way he never cuts corners, last time he did he watched everyone he loved die. He will not make the same mistake again.

They might not remember who they were, but they will soon.

Lazarus Water has a habit of bringing back old lives…

[trulyhblue]

If you write for her, I will not be opposed to a Kerstin Casparij one because I have the biggest fattest crush on her. Maybe a fan keeps showing up in the fanzone (an area of the Joie stadium where a selected few are allowed to meet the players, but it's random each time and should make it so its different every time so everyone gets a go.) And nobody knows why she's there or how she keeps getting chosen but the players find it funny and make sure to get round to her every time. But Kerstin always spends a particularly long amount of time with her, until it's revealed that she's pulling strings and getting the girl in every time just so she can see her. (You can either do it where she does it because she likes her or because they're dating, it works with both and I'm not sure which one I want more.)

Charmer

Kerstin Casparji x Reader, Lauren Hemp x Platonic! Reader, Esme Morgan x Platonic! Reader, Man City WT x Reader.

Warnings: fluff, coarse language, established secret relationship

A/N — Thank you for this request!! Love it so much. Will definitely write more for Kerstin if anyone is willing to send in some requests!!!!!

__________________

You had met Kerstin in a bakery down the road from your house. When you first saw each other, the woman nearly tripped over her own feet. You were surprised by the shock on her face like she was starstruck by being in a metre of your presence. You gave her a friendly smile, hoping your open ambiguity would keep things humble.

It was during your final exams, the ones where you needed to pass so that you could continue your degree. You were very passionate about what you did, and sitting down in a quiet coffee shop with your headphones on and books open was your idea of being productive.

Kerstin, on the other hand, had the impression that you didn't want to talk to her.

Which, well, to be honest, you were in the middle of studying, but you gave no clear indication of what she thought you were thinking.

Instead of going about her day — she should've been at training twelve minutes ago, but it was only media day so they could wait — she slowly sauntered closer to where you sat, pretending to be interested in the decorative flowers that embellished the cafe. You watched her out of the corner of your eye, smiling at her piss-poor attempt in remaining discreet.

You were dressed in very basic clothing, similar to hers save for the Manchester symbol embedded on her jumper. Only one ear was covered by your headphones, meaning that Kerstin would be heard loud and clear if she plucked up the courage to speak to you — which she was trying to do now. She thought you were the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen, and she was surrounded by women almost every single day of her life. You looked extremely immersed in what you were doing, which should of been an indicator of apathy but it only lured Kerstin in more.

She wanted to know everything about you. Your name, you favourite colour, what you did, what you loved, who you loved—

It sounded a bit creepy, so she shook off her thoughts and focused deeply on the flowers. The woman was staring at her screen distantly, aimlessly typing away on the keyboard with a mug by her side.

When she realised you had caught her staring, she buried and swallowed down her pride. “They are nice flowers, don't you think?” She asked, her cheeks burning a vibrant red as if she had just run a marathon. You noticed her accent, one that wasn't accustomed to Manchester, and nodded like you cared about the topic.

“Yes, but I think they are fake.” You replied, smiling wider as the woman’s flustered state only grew in size when she caught sight of the very fake-looking plants.

“Oh.” She gulped, shoving her hands into her pockets. She's so stupid, she thought to herself, she’d blown her chance of even talking to this gorgeous stranger by talking about some stupid, fake plants.

You wondered whether the woman would continue the conversation she started, but the silence that followed was a pretty good indicator that she was audibly stumped on what to say.

“They are pretty, though.”

“Like you,” Kerstin spoke without thinking and instantly regretted it. She slapped her hand across her mouth, nearly walking out of the coffee shop, packing her bags and moving back to the Netherlands. “Fuck, sorry. That just— erm, came out. Sorry.”

You took off your headphones, pretending to act offended, raising your eyebrows and sighing. “You don't mean it?”

“What— no, no, you are so pretty. Like, beautiful, gorgeous. That's why I'm here. Well— yeah, I saw and thought you were pretty. I didn't mean it like that. You're probably smart, too, but— erm, yeah.”

The look of remorse almost made you feel bad, but your amusement — and somewhat endearment — overturned your hesitancy.

Instead, you laughed, took a sip of your drink and smiled, hoping it would calm the woman’s nerves.

“You worry too much.” You said, moving across the booth you were sitting on, offering the space beside you for her to sit down. She did so without delay. “I'm not someone you should waste your worry on.”

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” Kerstin answered wholeheartedly, pleased when she noticed the blush that dusted your cheeks. “I would rather worry about you than anything else for the rest of my life.”

You laughed, crossing your arms over your chest. “You don't even know me.”

With a push of confidence, Kerstin wrapped an arm over the back of the booth, scarcely missing your shoulder. “If you’d let me, I’d like to.”

“Charmer.”

It was from there that you and Kristen started to hang out.

Seven months had passed, and you were now completely and utterly in love with the woman. Kerstin was an externally affectionate person despite her introverted persona. She loved showering you with compliments, giving you everything you needed at exactly the right time with just the right amount of love and devotion.

You found out she was a football player pretty early on in your relationship due to the tight and busy schedule the girl had, including her diet, exercise, and all of that. You weren't a massive football fan, but going to your first game a week into knowing Kerstin made it seem to find a way into your heart.

Your girlfriend wasn't the only one to give compliments. You had your fair share in making sure the Dutch woman knew how much you were enamoured with everything she did. It took you a while to get used to her career and the publicity that came with it, but you found pleasure in knowing that once you got back to your shared apartment you could tell and show her just how much she made you feel so so proud.

It was in mutual agreeance that you both wanted to keep your relationship under wraps. Your feelings for one another and how you cared for each other were one of the highest concerns in your relationship, and by keeping your love between yourselves, you've found that it worked better overall. You didn't want to indulge in a media presence, and Kerstin respected that.

Kerstin was fine with putting herself out onto social media, but when it came to you, she wanted to make sure you were comfortable at all times.

Because of this, you both came to the decision that at games, you wouldn't sit within the family and friends section, and instead, in the crowd with the fans.

You were among the group of fans that were guaranteed to meet the players after the match, whether it be cause they paid more or if they were chosen randomly by officials. For many weeks, people just assumed that they were lucky or could just afford to pay the extra money to be seated in the same section. Both you and Kerstin found it amusing when fans would wonder why you were always the first one to be greeted, or why you knew her.

After a month of this recurring theme, some of Kerstin’s teammates started to notice.

Surprisingly, Lauren, who wasn't the most observant, caught sight of it first.

“Do you know her?” She asked Kerstin after a game against Everton, watching the Dutchie make eye contact with you from where they were signing shirts.

Kerstin looked at Hempo, a blush running across the bridge of her nose.

Shrugging, she thanked the last fan, handing back the pen. “She's a friend of mine.”

Lauren’s eyebrows furrowed. “Then why isn't she in the friends and family section?”

When Kerstin didn't instantly reply, silenced by the prodding questions she was receiving, a distant idea clicked in Lauren’s mind.

“She's your girlfriend?” She sounded, obviously a little too loudly since the Dutch international nudged her warningly.

“Alright, nosey, keep your voice down.” She snapped, pulling the girl away from the crowd. “You can't tell anyone, alright. It's still pretty new.”

Lauren’s eyes widened in alarm, not exactly thrilled with the commitment of keeping a secret. “Does Jill know?”

“Why would Jill know?”

“I don't know, I didn't think I’d be the first person to find out,” Hempo replied, looking back at you. “Can I tell someone?”

Kerstin’s eyebrows furrowed. “I just said you can't.”

“Yes, I know, but I'm terrible at keeping secrets,” Lauren whined. “Please, let me tell Jill, at least.”

“No, because Jill will tell Viv and Viv will tell Beth, and Beth will tell literally everyone.” She quipped, only half-heartedly digging at the Arsenal girls. She watched Hemp sigh like a child, looking down as if the burden of her knowing was too much. “You can tell Esme but that's it.”

That was how the first people found out about you and Kerstin. When she told you that night, you weren't necessarily fazed. It was bound to come out at some point, and you’d rather Kerstin’s teammates find out from her than the internet.

Unfortunately, though, the rest of the girls weren't afforded the same luxury as Esme and Lauren.

All of the girls at Man City couldn't believe their eyes when they found out Kerstin was in love.

Well, to be fair, they weren't quite certain this was true. Lauren and Esme saw it first at the next game against West Ham, watching their teammate smile cheekily at the girl in the stands when she should've been stretching.

Sandy mentioned the Dutch International’s love-sick countenance to some of their teammates over lunch a few weeks later, promoting Hempo and Es to spill their not-so-long-kept confession.

None of the girls knew who Kerstin was talking to — or even if their suspicions were acclimated, but Sandy, Esme, and Lauren all made it their mission to keep their lips closed.

Sandy was the one to come up with the pact, yet the demanding eyes of Roebuck after an endurance training session set her tongue loose.

Lauren wasn't at all happy. Esme ended up spilling the secret to Mary as well, meaning the secret was already spreading across the team.

Meanwhile, fans were growing more and more suspicious of you and how you managed to steal the attention of Kerstin after each and every game.

The media surrounding you two got so big that Kerstin’s national teammate Viv called her one day asking what was going on.

Kerstin knew Lauren and Esme had told at least half the team by then, including Jill, who had run up to you after a game and pretended to flirt with you just to annoy her teammate. Viv was quick to point out that if she wanted to keep your relationship private, putting you in the midst of cameras and media attention wasn't the most suitable option.

You ended up deciding that if you were to stay in the crowd, both of you needed to be willing to make your relationship more public.

It had been seven months of concealing your obvious love for one another. Pretty much the whole team knew about you, and it only took fans a quick video of the two of you looking at each other to piece the clues together. You were both mature enough to keep your private lives private and social lives up to your discretion.

You made the decision to share very minimal parts of your lives together without spelling it out. This meant that you could hug your girlfriend for that little while longer in front of everyone. You could kiss her and not look around to see if anyone was looking. You could tell yourself that Kerstin was yours and you were hers.

But you didn't need public knowledge to make you feel loved by her.

__________________________

kerstincasparji

kerstincasparji — bit of a charmer ✨

Comments:

user11 — UM THE SOFT LAUNCH ARE YOU KIDDING???

viviannemiedema — ❤️

laurenhemp — love that bakery

*liked by kerstincasparji and yourusername

esmemorgan — busy girls

^ wosofan — SHE KNOWS

maryfowler — 🐐

user23 — is she dating the fan??

^ manchestergirl — if you mean the girl in the stand then yeah I think so

^ user2 — “THE girl IN THE STANDS” AHAHAHHAA

jillroord — ew cooties

^ viviannemiedema — shush

^ jillroord — no 😍

user7 — why does she sit in the stands and not in the family and friends section

^ laurenhemp — that's what I said 🫢

yourusername — charmer, huh?

^ kerstincasparji — idk, some pretty girl called me it

^ yourusername — didn't you call her beautiful, gorgeous, stunning, talented, incredible, out of this world

^ kerstincaslarji — she likes to think so.

^ user12 — IS THIS HER??????

^ arsenalwosoxx — THEY HIT THE PENTAGON

________________________

[tkwrites]

Can I Watch? - Quinn Hughes x ofc

Gif from gabelandeskog

Title: Can I Watch?

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc)

Warnings: Smut (18+ only), Mutual masturbation, Vibrator use, Sex with competition, Unprotected sex - p in v (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!), Sex with a vibrator, talks of fantasies including thigh riding, edging and anal play, but nothing is done. 

Summary: The day after I miss you: When Quinn discovers a vibrator in Sarah’s toiletry bag, it sets them on a course of discovery and pleasure neither of them planned on. After a wild afternoon, they discuss their fantasies.

Word Count: 4,000

Comments: I’ve been working on the Family Reunion snapshot, but it’s just not in a place to be done yet. It’s getting there, but it still needs a lot of work. The ending for this one came to me a few days ago, so I’ve finished it up. A thousand thanks to @aloragrace for looking this over so many times and helping me bring it back to Sarah and Quinn when my ovulation cycle highjacked the keyboard. I’m so glad I stuck to my instinct and kept writing until it was right. 

Thank you a thousand times over for your support and love for Sarah and Quinn! 

If you enjoyed this Snapshot, please consider commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask about it. Your comments and support inspire me to keep writing! 

The video referenced at the beginning of this snapshot is described in Messages. 

Can I Watch? 

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot 

“Could you grab me a hair tie while you’re in there?” Sarah asked from her perch on the bed. 

“Here,” he handed her the elastic as he left the bathroom. 

"What's this?" Quinn asked, holding up a dark rectangular thing he'd pulled out of her toiletry bag while rooting around for the hair tie. 

Sarah glanced up and tried to sound casual. "It's a vibrator."

"It is?"

"Take the cap off," she said. 

"How?" 

"Pull the halves apart." 

He did and discovered a clinical looking device with a built up sort of funnel on one side. 

"What does it do?" he asked, sitting next to her. 

"It creates a sucking sensation," she said, feeling her blush finally break through. 

"And you thought you might need it this trip?"

Quinn liked to think of himself as a pretty open guy, but she'd never brought a toy into the bedroom before. They generally did just fine. He knew she had them from phone calls and video chats and that damn video she’d sent him in Carolina. He wasn’t sure why she felt like she needed it now. 

"Well, It's a travel one, which is why it's so small and inconspicuous, so it lives in my toiletry bag anyway but, I thought you…" she paused, trying to screw her courage up. "I thought you might want to use it on me." 

Quinn's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "What?"

"Lots of couples use toys."

"I know, but," Quinn was having a hard time converting his thoughts into spoken words. "Hell yeah, I want to use it on you," he blurted finally, his eyes shining with excitement. "How do you turn it on?"

"Hold down the plus sign."

He did, and the toy jumped to life. When past girlfriends had brought out vibrators, they always caused intense buzzing; this felt more like a gentle flutter. It didn't feel anything like suction. 

Reaching over, Sarah picked it up and licked her finger to spread some moisture on the tip. 

Quinn watched, enthralled as she pulled his hand into her lap and pressed the opening to the pad of his thumb. He immediately felt the toy engage, creating the sensation she’d promised. 

"And you can make it stronger here," she pressed the plus button a few more times, and the suction intensified. 

“And you use it?“

“On my clit. Sometimes I use it on my nipples. But with you here I'd rather have your mouth there.”

It even felt good to him. He had no idea how a dude would use it, but the thought had him excited. 

"Is this what you used when you sent me that video?"

"No. I used a bullet vibrator that time. That one lives in my bag most of the time. It's more inconspicuous." 

"You have more than one?"

"Six or seven that do different things," she said. 

Quinn felt his mouth begin to water. He hadn't expected this in the best way. 

He met her eyes, his own shining. “Do you have the one you used in that video?” 

She nodded and went to fetch it from her backpack. 

“This is a vibrator?” he asked. Other than the bright blue color, it looked like a thick tube of chapstick. 

When she popped the lid off, it revealed a silicone covered cylinder. 

Turning it over in his hand, he found and pressed the button. The toy jumped to life, buzzing more like the vibrators June had. 

This one was far more rudimentary, with only the one button that changed the vibration pattern. 

“What did you use it on?” he asked as he cycled through the settings, the vibrations shuddering through his fingers.

She laughed as she settled next to him again, “are you trying to recreate it?” 

“I listen to that video at least once a week when we're not together,” he confessed. “There's no way I'm turning down a chance to see it. In fact…” he said, a mischievous smile taking over his face, “can I watch you get yourself off with it?” 

Her face flushed. “I don't know…” 

“Please?” he asked, unable to hide the lust in his eyes. The very thought of it had him breaking into a hot sweat and longing pulled through his stomach. 

“I've never done that before.” 

“Done what?” 

“Masturbated in front of someone.” 

“That's not true,” he said, “you do it in front of me all the time.”

“No I haven't.”

“Over FaceTime.”

“That's different. That's mostly about sound, and you're only seeing my face.”

“Please, Sarah,” he said, letting his voice dip into desperation. Now that the possibility was in front of him, he wouldn’t be able to rest until it came to fruition. 

She could feel her resistance caving even as they sat there, “okay, but you have to, too.”

“Have to what?”

“You have to get yourself off.”

Like that would be hard. 

A sudden thought came to mind, and Sarah smiled a wicked grin of her own. 

“What?” he asked, laughing. 

“Wanna make a bet?” she asked, quirking her eyebrows suggestively. 

“About what?” 

“Whoever comes first forfeits decision rites for the rest of the night. Dinner and such.” 

It was stupid and simple, but she knew Quinn and his incessant need to win wouldn’t be able to resist the healthy competition. 

As proof of her point, he leaned closer. “Deal,” he said, ghosting the buzzing vibrator up her forearm. 

Goosebumps rippled over her skin. 

When she met his eyes, a smile like she’d already won lit her face, and Quinn found himself wondering if he was setting himself up for failure.

“You can’t stop touching, though.” 

“What?”

“It’s only fair if we’re both touching. So you have to keep this pretty hand,” she said, bringing it to her mouth and kissing his palm, “on you cock the whole time.”

His breath stuttered in his chest.

Oh, he was fucked. 

Laying back, Sarah watched Quinn's face for grounding. The fascinated, lustful look in his eyes made her blood feel like it was about to boil over. 

She brought the vibrator to the top of her sex, nesting it against her clit before turning it on. The toy buzzed to life and her hips tipped toward it.  

“What are you doing?” Quinn asked, eyes flicking between her face and the toy in her hands. 

Her breath shook as she answered, “I like to start on the clitoral hood. It’s a nice way to ease in and get everything warmed up without being too intense.”

She was holding the toy still, but her hips rocked, moving the tip ever so slightly. 

“Do you ever turn it higher?”

“Not until I’m a few rounds in. When I come the first few times, it's too intense if I do, and I have to cycle through all the modes to get back to a comfortable setting. By then, my orgasm is gone, so I just leave it on low and vary the pressure.”

He made a needy, longing noise as he thought about her getting herself off over and over again. 

“You're supposed to be getting yourself off,” she reminded, noticing him not touching.

Selfishly, he’d been waiting until she noticed, knowing he wouldn’t last long with her in front of him, spread open and bringing herself pleasure with the object that plagued so many of his dreams. 

Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his hand around his cock and started to stroke, fighting to keep his pace torturously slow. 

“Quinn,” she moaned. 

Though he felt too close to the surface already, he wouldn’t look away. He couldn’t. She was doing this for him. He’d practically begged for it, and he wasn’t about to throw the opportunity out the window over a bet. But he still wanted to win.

“Fuck, Sarah,” he found himself saying, “I wish I was touching you right now.” 

She almost told him he could be, but he might take that as an invitation, which would for sure bring her to a crest more quickly. Instead, she goaded him on. “How?” 

Two could play at this game. “I want my mouth on you so bad.” 

The moan she let out went straight to his groin, and he paused until he got some semblance of control back. “I’ve missed the way you taste.” 

Her hips undulated as his name rushed from her mouth. “Oh my god.” 

Blinking her way through the fantasy, Sarah’s eyes sought Quinn. Draped over the end of the bed, he had one hand propped under his head so he could watch her, while the other... Her eyes narrowed. 

“Your hand’s not on your cock.”

“I’ll come if I keep touching,” he confessed.

“I guess you better learn to restrain yourself, then.”

When he didn't move, she pulled the vibrator away, even though her body begged her not to.  “Hand on your cock or I'm not coming.”

His lips pouted down. “But —” 

“That was the agreement, Quinn,” she said.

When he didn't immediately comply, she turned off the toy. 

He whined. 

“It wouldn’t be winning on your part anyway,” she said. “You’re cheating.”

“I am not.” 

“You are. You can’t possibly win fairly if you’re not touching.”

“But it takes you longer to build up,” he said, hating the whine in his voice. 

“You knew that going in,” she goaded, “it’s not my fault you didn’t think it through.” 

He made a pained noise. 

“Hand. Cock. Now,” she demanded. When he still hesitated, she asked, “are you really going to deny me my orgasm because you can’t control yourself?” 

Well, when she put it that way. 

“No,” he admitted, a distinctive whine of defeat in his voice. 

“I won’t do anything too mean, I promise,” she said with a wink as the toy buzzed back to life. 

That’s what he was afraid of. 

He was going to lose. There was no way he’d be able to outlast her. May as well go out with a bang. Stroking his cock faster, he admitted, “I can’t wait to use that on you while you ride me.” 

She made a pleasured, desperate noise. 

“I’m gonna make you come so many fucking times.” 

Feeling that tingling start in her pelvis, Sarah eased the toy back. She needed to send him over the edge. “Yes, you make me feel so good, Quinn.” 

His breath choked in his throat. Even the suggestion of her calling him good had him unraveling. He slipped over the edge with a moan of her name.

Relieved to not hold back any longer, Sarah let the vibrator fall against her and rocked her hips. “Quinn,” she whined, “I’m so close.” 

Even though his limbs felt like they were made of jelly, he pulled himself to her side, wrapped his lips around her right nipple and sucked, flicking the pebble with his tongue. 

She cried out, pleasure surging through her. “Quinn! Oh my - fuck!” Her core pulsed, and she couldn’t wait to have him deep inside her. 

Easing the toy away, her whole body flinched against the sensitivity.

“That was so hot,” Quinn rasped, hauling himself up to catch her mouth in a smoldering kiss. 

It didn’t take long before her hips were tipping to his, needy once more. 

“Are you ready to ride my cock?” he asked, a wicked grin on his face. “Or should I shove this,” he held up the little buzzing toy, “inside you and lick you until you come?” 

Hips bucking up, she begged, “both. I want both.” 

They fucked and made love, and Sarah ordered him around like he’d always dreamed of. At one point, he had the suction vibrator pulling at her clit as he drilled into her from behind, and Sarah was feeling so much bliss, she could barely hold herself up. She collapsed onto her chest, loving the friction of the bedsheets as her body was pushed and pulled and pushed and pulled with each steady thrust. 

“Quinn, I’m gonna come,” she warned, wondering if in her loosened and blissed state, she might finally squirt. 

She cried out when the pleasure surged, racing through her veins. 

He pulled out and tugged on his length, slippery with her orgasm.

She was just starting to whimper and twitch from the overstimulation when she felt his release paint over her backside. 

Tumbling like a felled tree, he landed beside her, and the toy fell away. 

Her knees slid out so she lay on her stomach. 

A few minutes later, when she hadn’t moved or spoken, Quinn touched her elbow, “that was kind of intense. You okay?”

Turning her face to him, she rested her head on her arms. “Yeah.”

“Yeah it was intense, or yeah you're okay?”

“Both,” she said with a smile. After a small pause, feeling so buoyant in her chest, she thought she might just float away, she added, “thank you for checking in.”

Scooting a little closer, he pressed his lips to the place his fingers had just touched. 

She smiled but still didn't make any moves to change position. Usually, she liked to use the bathroom or cuddle right after sex. Looking her over, he realized she couldn't. He'd come all over her ass. Of course she couldn't move.  

He convinced himself up to fetch a wet cloth from the bathroom. There was one made of soft microfiber, labeled for makeup removal with the other towels. At least he wouldn't have to use a rough, overly bleached hotel washcloth. He soaked it with warm water before coming back. 

Touching a hand to her thigh to let her know he was there, he wiped his release off her bum and hips before tapping her knee.

“Thank you,” she said quietly as she spread her legs to give him more room. A small wincing noise escaped her lips when he swiped between them. 

“Sorry,” he said. “Almost done.”

As he went back to the bathroom, his hand gently caressed over her bum and down her thigh, tracing the whole length of her leg. He rinsed the cloth before hanging it up to dry. 

Coming back out, he found her standing, a grimace squinting her left eye closed. 

He jolted to her side, “are you okay?” 

“Yeah. We went from no sex for twenty days to, like, five times in an afternoon. I’m just a little sore,” she said with a small laugh. 

“Twenty days, hu?” 

“Don’t play coy. I know for a fact that you keep track.” 

Laughter burst out of him. 

She shut the door to the bathroom, and he pulled on a new pair of boxers.

Sarah smiled, accepting the pajamas Quinn pulled out of her suitcase for her when she came back. 

He unabashedly watched her dress as he lay on the bed and held his arms out for her. She immediately snuggled in, resting her head on his chest. 

Kissing the crown of her hair, Quinn said, “thank you for doing that for me.” 

“Doing what?” 

“The whole masturbation thing.” 

A laugh snorted from her nose, “it’s not like it was some huge burden on my part.” 

Tightening his arms around her, Quinn finally asked, “is there anything you want from me?” 

“What do you mean?” she asked, fingers tracing up the center of his stomach. 

He had to swallow against the trembling in his chest, “I mean, is there anything you want sexually? Anything you want to try?” 

She made a small humming noise that told him she was thinking. While he waited for her response, his fingers traced patterns on her shoulder.

“I want to ride your thigh,” she admitted. 

“Is that…is that a thing people do?”

“Yeah. I’ve always wanted to try it, and you have these incredible thighs here,” she said, running her hand up the broad trunk of muscle, “always tempting me.”

“I don’t get it,” he said, unable to stop himself. 

“Get what?”

“The whole thigh thing. What’s the big deal?” 

“Well, I mean, your thighs are big and strong, and watching you work out?” she paused to bite her lip and let out a satisfied little grunt, “I just think they’re so sexy.” 

Her touch became feather-light, and a shiver of pleasure shot all the way to his toes. 

“I mean, you like my thighs, right?” 

It was true. He did love her thighs. They were soft and curvy and led to one of his favorite parts of her. His thighs, though, were too muscled for the rest of his body — made bigger from all the skating and leg work he had to do for hockey. He’d never imagined a woman would like them because of that. 

“You don’t think it would be hot to watch me get myself off on one?” she whispered, her fingers suddenly gripping his left quad. 

The muscle seized under her assault, and his breathing hitched.

He nodded, knowing if he spoke, his voice would squeak. God, he should not be getting so worked up over the thought of this.

“Maybe we can try that when you get back home.” Her lips whispered over his neck when she said it. 

“We could try it when you come to Michigan,” he countered, not sure he could wait that long. Had they not gone so many rounds already, he would be demanding she do it right then. It was going to plague his thoughts for the rest of the summer. 

Her grip loosened, and she smiled when she felt his muscles twitch as her fingers grazed up to his stomach. 

“Is there anything you want?” she asked, splaying her hand over his heart as if she hadn’t just turned him on in two seconds flat. 

The vast majority of his blood and mental focus were too much in his dick to properly vet his thoughts, so the fantasy just came blurting out, “I’ve been getting myself off to the thought of you edging me.” 

“Edging?” she repeated. 

“Yeah,” he said, voice gone breathy. 

“What does that look like?” Though she’d heard of it before, edging wasn’t something Sarah was too interested in trying herself, and her past boyfriends had all been too vanilla. They’d all considered doggy to be kinky.

“You tying me up.” He’d never admitted this fantasy to anyone before. He loved that no matter what came out of his mouth, Sarah would at least consider it. 

“Okay, and?” 

“And not letting me come until you say I can.” 

“Okay,” she repeated, still a little unsure. 

“You can come as much as you want, though,” he said, practically panting at the thought, “in fact, the more you come, the better.” 

Now, she understood a little more, “so you just have to watch me come?” she confirmed. 

“Yeah, and you like, touch me and stuff, but don’t let me get all the way there.” 

“I think I could do that,” she said, “I don’t know that I’ll be all that good at it, but I’d be happy to try.” 

A coil of anxiety unwound in his chest. 

“You’ll have to tell me what you want.” 

He nodded, “I can do that.” 

Her fingers began to trace patterns over his chest. The last part of the fantasy was still rolling around his mind. He knew Sarah, who loved and insisted on consent more than any other woman he’d ever been with, would have the most issue with this part of it. 

“I want you to order me around,” he said. 

“As part of the edging?”

“Yeah, and tell me I’m a good boy when I do it right.” 

Making a kind of noncommittal noise, she pursed her lips. 

Raising himself onto one elbow, he looked down at her. 

She blew a deep breath through her lips, “I’m not gonna lie, that feels really weird to me.” 

“What does?” 

“The whole good boy thing.”

“If you’re not comfortable with it, it’s okay,” he said. 

“I just…I don’t understand. Why would you want me to reduce you to that?” 

“To what?” 

“To just, ‘good boy,’” she explained, “you’re not a dog.”

Smiling, he leaned down to kiss her. He loved this part of Sarah — respectful and kind, she never wanted to make another person feel less than. 

“What if I just tell you you’re doing a good job?” she asked. “Take the boy out of it. Would that be okay?”

His body responded immediately, “that would work.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I liked it when you said I made you feel good earlier today.” 

“I did?” 

He nodded, “I just want to be good for you.” 

“You are good to me, Quinn,” Sarah said, pulling him back down for another kiss. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sarah wondered if Quinn wanted these things because he was so used to chasing the praise of his coaches and teammates. 

He made a happy little noise and settled next to her again. 

After a minute of laying there, he asked, “is there anything else you want?” 

“Oh, I…” Sarah had never felt like this in a relationship. She’d never had someone ask her so openly about what she wanted, but on top of that, she knew whatever she said, Quinn would consider without immediately shooting her down. But it was still vulnerable to say it out loud. 

“I’ve kind of always wanted to try…”  

His arm tightened around her, reassuring. 

“I want to try doggy with something in my ass,” she said, then bit her lip. 

Quinn’s chest rose in a steep breath, but his voice was calm when he said, “what kind of something? Like a plug or…” 

“I’m not really sure. I haven’t done much research, I’ve just read about it a few times, and it seems like it can be really amazing.”

He made a noise of ascent.

Lifting herself up on her elbow, she asked, “have you done that before?” 

Hesitantly, he nodded. 

“Did you, I mean, was it okay?” 

“June really liked it.”

Sarah blinked a few times, surprised. “Really?” 

“Yeah.” 

“She didn’t like oral or cum, but she liked anal play?” Sarah felt a little whiplashed. She’d always assumed June was a prude. 

He shrugged. He honestly didn’t know if June disliked receiving oral. He’d never offered or tried, and she never asked. 

Settling back against his chest, Sarah’s mind caught on the way he’d answered her initial question. “So did you like it?” 

“Like what? The anal stuff?” 

“Yeah. It seems like maybe you didn’t?” 

A sigh shifted his chest beneath her. “It’s not really that. It was more June. She always wanted to try new, more extreme things, and it felt a bit like she was always chasing this high I could never give her on my own.” 

The thought of it made Sarah’s chest tight. “Quinn that sounds awful.” She pushed herself up to kneeling so she could look into his face. “We don’t have to do it. Like I said, I’ve just thought about it. It’s nothing I have my heart set on.” 

Quinn smiled a little to himself. How was this beautiful woman even possible? “I know you’re not like that,” he said

“No,” she agreed.

“If it’s something you want, we should try it.”

The love and care that was laid bare in that statement made her heart feel like it might just explode from happiness. 

She lay on top of him, “only if we can make love before,” she said. “There’s hardly anything I like more than making love to you.” 

As his mouth tipped to hers in a kiss, Quinn felt full to bursting with love. He knew Sarah loved him and wasn’t just seeking the next high, the next thing that would make their relationship bearable, but when she learned his hesitations, she put them to bed anyway. 

She’d been open to his stuff so he would be open to hers. 

“Want me to order a plug? I could probably InstaCart it.” 

Laughter echoed around the room. “Quinn Hughes, you are not InstaCarting a butt plug to our hotel.” 

“Why not?” he asked. “We’re here. You want it. You should have it.” 

She was touched at his willingness to fulfill this want right away, especially considering his initial hesitation. “I want to do some research before,” she said. Though she’d thought about it plenty, she’d never really looked into the logistics of it.

“Okay,” he said, kissing her forehead, “just let me know when you’re ready and what you want me to get.”

“Right now, I just want you to make love to me before we figure out what we want for dinner.” 

“Done,” Quinn said, rolling them over, “but you get to figure out dinner. You won the bet.” 

She giggled. “You are the only person I know who can turn losing a bet into a good thing.”

“Its all about perspective, sweetheart,” he said, pressing a few kisses to her neck. 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[avatar-anna]

Champagne Problems, Part Two

IT"S FINISHED! whew, that only took forever. part of the reason this took so long to write is that i was obsessing over if it would be as good as part 1, so hopefully y'all like it (but please be nice if you don't). final word count is about 22-23k words...so buckle in, grab a snack, and enjoy!

Part One

*.*

Japan

Harry walked alone through the busy streets of Tokyo, his chin tucked close to his chest and his hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his long overcoat. There was a cadence to his steps as he kept time with the song that played on a loop in his head. It wasn't one that anyone here but him would know. Well, him and one other person, but she was a world away.

Rounding the corner, Harry turned into the cafe he'd been frequenting since he'd arrived. He nodded to the shopkeeper before heading over to the counter, pulling an old, weathered vinyl from his bag.

"This is the one I was talking to you about," he said by way of greeting. "It truly is a phenomenal record."

Harry handed over the record, hesitating a little before letting go of it. He'd been listening to it nonstop since he'd left Los Angeles, and parting with it was more difficult than he originally thought it would be. When he first came to the cafe, he'd looked for it within the crammed shelves huddled in the corner. The shopkeeper had never even heard of it, and Harry could only imagine what Y/n would say if she knew. She'd been the one to introduce him to it, the memory of that conversation in her apartment seared into his brain.

"Wings?" Harry had asked, not quite suspiciously, but the glare Y/n sent over his shoulder made it seem like he'd already written it off. Her glare is so cute, he remembered thinking, admiring the adorable furrow of her brow as she rooted through a collection of vinyls that was bigger than anything Harry had ever seen.

"It'll change your life," she'd promised, before sliding the record out of its sleeve and putting it on the turntable. Her record player was littered with stickers, some too faded or covered by others to see them properly.

She'd grinned as the opening chords to the first track played, settling next to Harry as she picked up her wine glass, her lips puckering around it to take a sip. She hadn't noticed him staring until about a minute later, when her eyes met his. Her brows had furrowed once more, but this time it was more confused. She'd nudged Harry's leg with her foot, which was covered in a purple patterned fuzzy sock.

"It's your turn, isn't it?" she'd asked, eyes darting to the Scrabble board on the coffee table.

Harry remembered taking the wine glass from Y/n's hands and setting it on the table next to the board. He remembered taking her face in his hands and kissing her. He remembered her squeak of surprise but that she didn't pull away.

Their very first kiss.

The memory of her delicate hands sliding into his hair, of her crawling into his lap, the little noise she made as his teeth nipped at her bottom lip—it was all-consuming as Harry sat down at his usual table at the cafe a million miles from Y/n and Los Angeles.

"It'll changed your life," she'd promised him. Little did he know, she already had.

*.*

A week after Harry left, you received a text from your ex, a total surprise seeing as you hadn't spoken to him since you'd broken up.

Gavin: I heard about what happened with you and my sister. Can we meet somewhere and talk?

That message sat in your inbox without a response for hours as you tried to work up the courage to say yes. You knew you needed to, you knew you would feel better after the fact, that both of you deserved closure after the colossal end to your relationship, but every time your thumb hovered over the keyboard, you chickened out.

Until finally, you wrote, Okay.

Seeing Gavin again was a trip. He looked the same, yet so different at the same time. He had facial hair for one thing, and his hair was a couple inches longer than it had been when you were together. Deep down, you assumed a public shaming on his part, you feared he would just berate you for all the ways you'd hurt him and that he hated you for breaking his heart and humiliating him.

But that had never been who Gavin was. Your ex was kind and honorable, he tipped generously on dinner dates and warmed up socks for you in the dryer because he knew how cold you got after a long day at work. He was the definition of a sweetheart, and assuming the worst about him was just the fear and insecurity talking.

"I'm—I'm so sorry, Gavin," you said, trying to hold all the excess of emotion brimming to the surface as you walked beside him. You'd agreed on a walk through the park as opposed to sitting down somewhere, both of you perhaps too nervous to sit still.

Gavin merely nodded, which was more than you could've asked for given the circumstances. "Thank you. So much time has passed, but...it feels nice to hear."

It was a while before either of you said anything. Los Angeles wasn't a frozen tundra by any means, but it was quite brisk by the ocean, and you crossed your arms across your chest to retain a bit of heat.

Then, Gavin said, "I...I just need to know why. Did I do something? I thought things were good between us. I mean I wanted to—"

Maybe it was the cold, but his cheeks were rosy as his voice tapered off. "You didn't do anything wrong, Gav," you said, wanting to take his hand but refraining. It didn't feel like something you could do anymore. Even if two years had come and gone, you couldn't make yourself cross that line. It didn't feel right.

You didn't know how to sugarcoat your words, but you hoped time would soften the blow. "I just...I realized that you were in love with me and I—I just wasn't. I wanted to be, I wanted to be in love with you, but—And then I panicked. I overheard your mom and sister talking about you wanting to propose, and I just couldn't lead you on. I couldn't let you do that knowing you deserved better than what I could give you.

"But it killed me, Gavin," you said, tearing up just thinking about it. "Hurting you is the worst thing I've ever done, and I've—I've hated myself for putting you through that, and I couldn't face you after, which was unfair of me."

"I just wanted an explanation," Gavin said quietly, his head bent so you couldn't see his face. "All I ever wanted was to understand. I think that hurt more than you breaking up with me, that you couldn't offer me that decency."

You nodded with a sniffle, keeping your eye on the slate blue of the ocean and the clouds covering your favorite shade of sky blue. "It was selfish of me to ignore you, I know that. I just...couldn't. I was scared that you would convince me to come back when that wasn't really what I wanted, and with your family and friends constantly messaging me, I just thought staying away was for the best."

"Y/n, what—what messages? What are you talking about?"

"You really don't know?" Perhaps you shouldn't have been surprised, Gavin's family would never do or say anything to him that would make them look bad in his eyes. But so much time had passed that you thought it would've slipped. He'd heard about the coffee house incident, after all.

With shaking hands, you reached for your phone in the back pocket of your jeans. After scrolling through your messages, you passed it to Gavin, letting him look for himself. He was quiet as he looked over the messages from his sister. There were others, but Larissa's were the most vicious. A more mentally sound person would've deleted them ages ago, but you liked to punish yourself when you were feeling particularly low.

"I don't hold any of this against you," you said. "I know you're not your family, but I just...I don't know."

"I wish I'd known about all this before," Gavin mumbled with a shake of his head. "I'm sorry for them."

"Thank you."

You didn't know what to say after that, you weren't even sure you wanted to dwell on the past anymore. It had gone by so quickly in your eyes, but two years suddenly felt like ten. You felt older, more jaded as you walked next to the man you were almost engaged to.

"Are you happy?" you asked suddenly, stopping at a bench and sitting down.

Gavin sat down next to you. He handed your phone back before sighing. "I am. I wasn't for a while, but I am. You?"

You nodded. "Learning to be. I think I was...in a rough place before I started seeing you, and now I think I'm finally on the other side of it."

Gavin's grin was familiar. It felt good to see it, but it didn't give you the butterflies that it used to. Maybe just a little relief. You smiled back, nudging him with your shoulder. "You seeing anyone?"

The blush on Gavin's cheeks told you everything you needed to know, and knowing he moved on settled something in you. "Yeah. We've been together about a year now."

Sometimes you daydreamed about who Gavin would be with when he eventually moved on. Someone perky, but not in an obnoxious way. Maybe she liked to paint and drew pictures of his profile while they had picnics together, because picnics were the kind of dates they would go on. They would hold hands in the popcorn bowl at the movies and wear matching sweaters on Christmas. The girl who would truly steal Gavin's heart would be just as sweet and generous as he was and would make his lunches for work and wipe his mouth at dinner with a smile and love him with her entire being because he deserved it.

"That's wonderful, Gav," you said earnestly. You took his hand in yours and squeezed, hoping he knew you were telling the truth. The only thing you hoped was that he kept her far, far away from his family.

"Are you? Seeing anyone?"

A simple question, and yet you didn't know how to offer a simple answer. Eventually, you shook your head. "Uh...no."

"Brothers scaring the line of willing suitors?" he joked, knowing full well how your brothers could be.

Laughing, you shook your head. "No, nothing like that, I just—It's complicated, I guess."

You couldn't quite believe that you were having this conversation today, especially with Gavin. But talking to him had always come easy, it was one of the things you liked best about being with him.

"If you can believe it," you added, a little humor in your voice. "I was the one who was ready to take things further."

For a moment, you worried you'd taken things too far, but his brows just raised amusingly. "No shit. Really?"

"He wasn't ready. Just my luck. I finally get my shit together and he takes off to another continent."

You didn't resent Harry for leaving. He'd done what was best for him, but that didn't mean the timing didn't suck. You finally felt comfortable and confident enough to be open with someone, and they fled the country.

Okay, so Harry didn't flee the country, but you felt the blow to your ego no matter how rational you were about the situation.

"He'll come around," Gavin promised, which took you by surprise. "You're probably not aware, but you're very easy to fall in love with, Y/n."

Your cheeks flushed, feeling Gavin's words right down to your toes. It didn't feel romantic in any sort of way, but there was some reassurance. Gavin knew you well, and he had been a good friend.

And yet, the only thing you could think as you continued to catch up with your ex was, Then why is it so hard for me to fall in love?

*.*

Harry hadn't realized it, but he'd started to keep a list in his head, a mental tally of all the little things he learned about Y/n and that made her who she was.

The list had started with small trivial things like her coffee order and that she seemed to be particularly fond of wearing bandanas in her hair or that she always carried the same canvas tote on her shoulder, one that read, "You're Doing Great," in squiggly blue writing. From there, the list grew, and he suddenly began to collect bits of information from Y/n like valuable trading cards—what it was like growing up with three older brothers, how long she stayed in Nashville before moving out to Los Angeles, and what the perfect record was for when she was feeling sad. Harry wanted to know everything, every little piece she was willing to give him until he understood even the smallest gesture.

"Why don't you perform your songs?"

It was a question that lingered in the back of his mind for weeks now. Harry had heard Y/n sing on multiple occasions as they wrote together, and he couldn't help but think that she was the whole package. She could sing, had the kind of voice that was soft and low, a little raspy but easy to harmonize with. She wrote incredible songs that held so much depth and emotion and she could play multiple instruments. Harry could see her selling out stadiums and connecting to people through music that she wrote and performed. Yet she didn't.

"I never really had the desire to," Y/n said with a shrug. They were in his backyard, sitting around a bonfire with a bottle of wine between them. It was her turn to pick, and Chris Stapelton was crooning through her phone's speaker.

"Is it like a stage fright thing?"

"No, not at all," Y/n said. "I just don't think that life was made for me, you know? I don't know if I could handle being famous."

Harry supposed he understood what she meant. He loved his life, but it wasn't always a walk in the park. But it did make him wonder if she would ever be with someone like him, someone who did lead a life that she thought she couldn't handle. For the first time since he'd met her, Harry decided he didn't want to know.

"What about...singing backup or joining your favorite musician on tour once he releases the greatest album since...So?"

"I didn't peg you for a Peter Gabriel fan," she murmured, immediately recognizing the title, and Harry couldn't help but smile a little at the fact that she knew exactly what album he was referring to. "But, I guess so. If it was for a friend."

Harry tucked that little nugget of information away. Tour was worlds away at the moment, but it was always good to think ahead, especially when he knew he needed a keyboardist replacement.

Looking up, he admired Y/n in the glow of the bonfire, his heart beating rapidly even though she wasn't even doing anything. Ever since their first kiss a week ago, he just wanted more. His brain could hardly keep up with his heart and how badly it longed for her. And she didn't even realize the effect she had on him. She drove him crazy.

And that scared him. Harry had only recently broken up with his ex, and he didn't think it was possible to feel so strongly for someone after coming out of a pretty serious relationship with someone else. He knew he should untangle the strings, that if he let things get too far, they'd get messy, and he and Y/n would both end up hurt.

But that voice in his head that told him to be careful became a low buzz as Y/n stood up and shuffled over to him before placing herself in his lap. Her fingers came up to play with the hair that curled at the nape of Harry's neck, and he couldn't help but close his eyes at the feeling, at her closeness, at the smell of her perfume that lingered on her clothes.

"I don't know what I'm doing here," she whispered, almost like she was talking to herself and not to Harry. "And I don't have any expectations, but I'm okay with it if you are."

Yet. Y/n didn't have any expectations yet. He knew the familiar thudding of his heart, the excited flutter in his stomach as he leaned into her touch. Of course there would be expectations, but Harry found himself nodding anyway, unable to deny either of them the pleasure of her lips sliding lightly against his. Y/n had never initiated anything between them before, and her tentative kiss told Harry she was unsure of herself. At first glance, she came off as unsure when it came to most things, but Harry learned that she held within herself a quiet confidence that he admired.

Harry stood up with her in his arms as he led them back inside. He didn't know where this would lead, tonight or any night to follow. He didn't know if Y/n was ready to sleep with him, and he honestly wasn't sure if he was either. But he wanted her close and to feel those gentle hands a little firmer in his hair. That was all he knew, and he let himself not think about anything else.

The tangles of his feelings were positively knotted, and despite his long list of things he knew about Y/n, he still didn't know where her heart truly lay. But if she was willing to walk through the fire blind, then so was he.

*.*

Two weeks into Harry being gone, and you were starting to wonder when you'd become so pathetic.

In the time since Harry left for Japan, you hadn't written a single song, not even a lyric. It was ludicrous. You'd written by yourself your entire career, but after a couple months spent with a writing partner, you were rendered insipirationless.

Not to mention semi-friendless.

It wasn't that Harry's friends didn't want to hang out, you just weren't sure you could. Outside of Sylvia, you didn't hang out with Harry's team without him, and it just felt weird to start doing so now. You didn't shy away from them when you saw them in the hallways of the building you all worked in, but you never knew what to say past a casual greeting.

Funnily enough, though, you'd said everything you needed to say to Gavin. Meeting up with him eased a heaviness in your chest you'd been carrying around with you for the last two years. You both were able to get the closure that you'd been denying yourselves, and it felt good to get everything out in the open, to receive Gavin's forgiveness after punishing yourself for such a long time.

Seeing Gavin and talking to him left you feeling lighter, but it also left you a little hollow to. With no rain cloud hanging over your head anymore, you didn't know what to do with yourself. The concept of happiness was something you'd never thought you would get, and now that it was within reach you were hesitant.

"Maybe we need a sabbatical, pookie," you said to your dog, kissing his nose. "What do you think?"

Buddy Holly didn't have a response for you, he just tilted his head at the sound of your voice. Sighing, you scratched his head and pressed play on the movie you'd previously been watching before your dog unceremoniously climbed into your lap.

Now that Harry was gone on his journey of self-discovery, you'd gone back to spending your nights alone. In theory, it should've been easy. Before Harry, being alone was second nature, but your first night alone you were at a loss. You kept wanting to reach for your phone and call him, send him a text about the record you were listening to or the ridiculous thing Buddy had done that day. You didn't realize of much Harry had engrained himself into your life, and now he was half a world away.

Reaching out wasn't an option, either, no matter how much you wanted to. He didn't tell you much for his reasons for leaving, a "writing retreat," he claimed, but you knew it was more than that. There was shit he needed to figure out, shit regarding his past relationship, so you felt the ball was in his court.

The next day, you were on the elevator going up to work, arguing with your brother on the phone.

"Nothing's wrong, Hayden," you insisted, rubbing a tired hand over your face.

"No, there definitely is. Evan, Andrew, and I all agree," Hayden said. "Something's definitely wrong with you. And when something's wrong with you, it's usually one of three things. Menstruation, a guy, or one of us, and seeing as we haven't done anything, and your period doesn't—"

"Oh my God, Hayden!" you groaned as the elevator doors opened. "I'm not...menstruating. Jesus! The fuck is wrong with you?"

Hayden kept jabbering in your ear, but you weren't listening anymore because the elevator doors had opened to reveal someone on the other side. Mitch, Harry's friend was standing there, eyes wide as he looked at you, clearly having heard your side of the conversation with your brother.

God, could this day get any worse? you thought. Shutting your eyes, you wondered if you stood there long enough with your eyes closed, the elevator doors would close and take you straight to hell or you would maybe just disappear on the spot. Either would be appreciated.

"Hayden, I have to call you back."

"You're still coming to my game this weekend right?" he asked.

"Wearing the other team's jersey," you muttered, hanging up as your brother began to protest.

Since the elevator doors stayed open and you didn't spontaneously combust, you opened your eyes. "Hey."

Mitch nodded. "Hey, Y/n."

The air was so incredibly awkward, and you wondered why you weren't sprinting toward your studio and locking yourself in permanently. But neither of you moved, and now you felt the need to explain yourself. "I...I wish I had an explanation other than my brothers still seem to ruin my life from hundreds of miles away, but I don't."

You finally stepped out of the elevator and moved around Mitch, who stepped inside. He still had that tense smile on his face, and you wondered if the two of you would ever be able to make eye contact again. Not that you ever did all that much before this God-awful incident. Just another reason to avoid Harry's friends.

"Right. H mentioned you had brothers," he said. "See you around, Y/n."

For my own sanity, I hope not, you prayed to whoever was listening.

*.*

"Do you ever think about what you would be doing if you weren't doing...this?" Y/n asked, gesturing vaguely around her.

Harry looked down to where she was spread out on the floor, her head rested in his lap while he leaned against his sofa. He wasn't quite sure how they ended up on the floor, but he didn't dare move, resisting the urge to run his fingers through her hair. It was shiny, and smelled faintly of apples. He wondered if it was as soft as he imagined.

Blinking, he stumbled around in his brain for an answer, clearing his head of thoughts of silky hair passing through his fingers. "Honestly? No, not really."

"You don't?"

Harry shrugged even though Y/n's eyes were closed. She did that often if there was music playing, as if she was trying to absorb every note into her body while maintaining a conversation. Right now they were listening to one of Harry's current favorites: a Joni Mitchell album he'd grown up listening to with his mum. He remembered when he used to scramble for answers in interviews when he was asked about his favorite artist or album, trying to come up with an answer that the media would want to hear without appearing fake. He'd list classic rock bands like Fleetwood Mac and wear old band t-shirts from the seventies. He didn't not like those artists, he loved them. But when Y/n asked about his favorite record in his collection, he didn't hesitate to reach for Joni Mitchell, knowing she wouldn't judge him for his answer.

"No. I was so young when I auditioned for the X-Factor," Harry explained. "I don't even think I knew what I wanted to study in school then, so it's hard to know what I would be doing now if it weren't for all...this."

And I wouldn't have met you, he thought but kept that to himself. Neither of them was ready for those kinds of words if he was being honest. Y/n was skittish about feelings at the best of times, and he didn't know where his feelings for her started, and getting over his ex ended. It gave him a headache if he thought about it too long, so he didn't.

Y/n sat up, and Harry resisted the urge to pull her back to him. As they hung out more and more, he had this overwhelming desire to be near her as much as possible. A hollowness would form in his chest if he didn't seek her out at the studio, leaving him blushing like an idiot every time he left his friends behind as he walked down the familiar hallway to her door. None of them ever said anything outright, but he could practically hear their teasing thoughts, but he couldn't help it. Y/n had drawn him in from the moment he'd laid eyes on her.

"Maybe you'd be a florist," she said with a small grin.

"A florist?"

"Yeah." Y/n's grin grew, and Harry swore his heart grew with it. When he initially started spending time with her, or bugging her, more like, she hardly smiled. He thought it was such a shame. Not only because Y/n had a beautiful smile, but because she felt like she couldn't. Harry never wanted her to feel like she couldn't be happy, least of all around him. "You could have this big truck and deliver flowers to baby showers and weddings and other big occasions."

"Oh yeah? And where are you in this scenario?" he asked, somewhat nervous to hear the answer.

A blush crept up Y/n's cheeks as she looked at him. "In the passenger seat."

*.*

The third week Harry was gone, a stranger popped into your studio. A sense of deja vu had run through you as you looked up to find someone occupying the space in your doorframe, only Harry never knocked to make his presence known. You'd always just been aware of him when he entered the room.

"Can I help you?" you asked. You were working on a song that you actually quite liked. A new angle, a different approach to songs that you wanted to see through, and interruptions weren't going to help.

"Mitch said to come find you," he said. He looked a little nervous at having disrupted your work, so you eased up on your stare. "He said you could help us?"

Us? you thought. You supposed that it wasn't too far fetched that Harry's team would make themselves busy while he was off on sabbatical, or whatever it was he'd been doing in Japan. You hadn't heard from him much, and you tried not to let that hurt your feelings too much.

Brows furrowed, you said, "I'm sorry, I don't know how I would help—"

"He said you've written for country artists before?" the guy said. "We're sort of stuck and he said to come find you, so..."

Sighing, you stood up, but not before jotting a couple notes down in your journal. Perhaps it was kismet that the song you'd been playing around with today had been country in your mind. The prospect of writing with anyone other than Harry felt odd, uncomfortable. But Harry wasn't here, and you didn't know when he would be back and you couldn't just hide in your studio because he'd left.

You didn't know what to expect as you followed the man, Daniel, he'd finally introduced, led you to a studio a couple rooms away from yours. You'd met Harry's writing and production team a number of times, but Harry wasn't a country artist, so Mitch was clearly helping out with a different project, which meant introducing yourself to a whole new group.

Mitch was waiting with one other person, a young woman who was about your age or younger. She had blond curly hair and light blue eyes, a smile on her face at something Mitch said. When you entered the room, you couldn't help but think back to last week when you'd completely embarrassed yourself in front of Mitch. You hadn't seen him since, and even though it was probably unlikely, you'd hoped you'd never have to again.

Introductions were made quickly before a chair was pulled out for you. The young woman's name was Cam, and she was working on putting out her first ever single. "And album eventually, but we're starting out small," she said with a bashful grin. "I'm such a huge fan of your work, and when Mitch said you were just down the hall, I told him he had to introduce me. I swear I love every song you've ever written."

Nodding, you gripped the soft leather binding of your journal, wondering what Mitch was angling at here. From the short amount of time you'd spent with him, he seemed rather quiet. A chill person who mostly kept to himself. You weren't sure why you were being dragged into one of his projects.

"Yeah. That's where I started my career," you said. "I'm sorry—Did you want my help with a song?"

"The whole album too, hopefully," Cam said, and you could see it in her eyes how bad she wanted this. She was ambitious, but not in a way that made you want to run back to your room and have nothing to do with this project. You eyed her scuffed boots and the worn friendship bracelets on her wrists and the hope that lined her body as she waited for you to say something.

"I usually work alone," you said. "But, I—I did happen to be writing something a little country today if you wanted to take a look."

You handed your journal over to the young woman, trying to decide if you wanted to be part of this little team. On the one hand, you thought Harry would be the only person you'd feel comfortable writing with, but...if he had a team, why couldn't you? Perhaps Harry had opened you up to the possibility of branching out and trying things you'd closed yourself off to in the past.

At the very least, you decided, you would hear her out, see how you gelled with this small group. If not for any other reason than as a small favor to an acquaintance. You didn't know Mitch all that well, but you considered him someone you knew.

And to be honest, maybe you were getting tired of staying holed up in a studio by yourself all the time.

So now you were meeting with Cam, Mitch, and Daniel regularly. That first day, you stayed at the studio late at night workshopping ideas and getting a feel for the sound and vision Cam was going for. And it was easy. Bouncing ideas off each other, picking up the guitar and playing a potential riff and letting Mitch carry it somewhere else, working out harmonies and melodies with Cam. You'd left the studio later than you ever had that night, but energy coursed through your veins as you left the building.

You'd never been a part of something at the start with the means to see it through. You usually wrote songs and sold them to whoever wanted them, and with Harry, you'd joined in songwriting when he and his team were well underway, but this...this was new, and you didn't hate it. In fact, you were looking forward to meeting the next day, and the next, and the next...

Weeks flew by as you worked on this album, and you suddenly lived off takeout boxes and snacks as you spent many a late night as you worked on song after song, eager to see this project come to life. There wasn't necessarily a deadline, but you were all just eager to keep working on what you all knew was something special. And today Mitch was going to teach you how to play the drums while Cam met with her record label for an hour. It felt like there was finally light at the end of a very long, dark tunnel, one that you'd been winding through the last two years. It felt good to feel this light again, even your brothers got off your back a little, though you knew that wouldn't last very long.

"I'm on my way right now, and I'm bringing Buddy because he's being extra clingy today," you said into the phone. "He's also my reason for going home at a reasonable hour—"

Time stopped as you opened the door to your apartment. Your heart was in your throat, partly because you were startled to find someone on the other side, and then because your eyes finally registered who was on the other side.

"Y/n?"

Blinking, you quickly told Cam you had to go before hanging up the phone, slipping it in your coat pocket before letting it drop to the floor. You ran a hand over your face, wondering if you'd magically conjured him to your door, or if you were so tired you were suddenly delirious, but when you uncovered your eyes, he was still there, hands tucked in his pockets and a suitcase resting by his feet, a cat carrier on top of it.

"Harry? What—What are you doing here? When did you—"

There was no time to think or speak or breathe as Harry surged forward, his hands suddenly out of his pockets and settling deep in your hair, and kissed you.

The kiss was bruising, making it hard to think straight, making it hard to think about anything but him. His cologne flooded your senses as if you'd never smelled it before, making you sigh against his mouth and giving him ample opportunity to slide his tongue against yours as he backed you against the doorframe with a soft thud.

Your hands flew of their own accord, reaching beneath Harry's coat and gripping the shirt he wore beneath it. You needed to feel him, to know he was really here in front of you, that he wasn't going to evaporate in your hands leaving you with only the memory of his kiss. You'd had that particular dream one too many times.

Harry's hands smoothed down your sides, rucking up your shirt and setting your skin on fire when his thumbs brushed your ribcage. Your breaths stuttered until you finally had to pull back to catch it Instinctively, Harry followed, his mouth searching for yours, then your neck, but you held him in place for a moment.

"Wait," you said, breaths shallow. Harry stopped immediately, eyes roving your face in a similar way to how you were doing so. When he finally met your gaze, a small, shy smile, spread across your lips. "H—Hi."

Harry's responding grin was radiant. "Hi."

*.*

"I don't understand, when—when did you get back?"

It was safe to say you weren't going into the studio. There were about ten seconds of protesting before you finally caved, and it had nothing to do with Harry's lips on your neck or his hands sneaking beneath your shirt. "Stay," Harry had mumbled. "Please? There's so much I want to say."

So you stayed, though you hadn't really spoken much. You and Harry had ended up on your couch huddled up together under a blanket, Buddy Holly dozing at your feet. You kept waiting for him to say whatever it was he wanted to say, but he kept quiet. It was nice for a while, but you began to itch with the need for answers. You didn't want to immediately fall back into old habits the second he came back, even if laying flush against his chest was the most peaceful you felt in weeks. You were nervous to talk to him, to hear him say that after staying away for two months, he still didn't want a relationship. But even so, it would be better to know the truth and start getting over it now than to hold out hope.

"Today," Harry said. "I came straight here from the airport."

"Why? Wouldn't you want to go home? Get settled. Sweet Pea probably misses home."

Harry raised his head from where he'd been resting it in the crook of your neck. His brows raised suspiciously to where his cat was dozing on top of Buddy, as if she'd never left. "I think she's rather comfortable."

"You're awfully comfortable too," you said under your breath. Then, even though you felt so warm in his embrace, you sat up, putting some distance between yourself and Harry.

You could tell he wanted to protest, his sleepy eyes and mussed brown curls covering his forehead in a messy tangle told you that all he wanted was to fall asleep next to you. You wanted that too, but your mind kept drifting back to that last conversation, to that last exchange of words, and you let them keep that small bubble of distance between you and him.

"I need to know why you're here, H," you said, raising your knees up to your chest.

Harry could hear the seriousness in your voice, his expression sobering a little. He sat up too, facing you as he took up his place at the corner of the couch. There were only a couple inches between you, but it felt like Harry was still in Japan with how distant you felt from him now. He was home, but was he really? You didn't know how your friendship was going to evolve from here. You supposed you could be okay with just being his friend. It would sting, but you would get over it.

Eventually.

You hoped.

"I...just knew that this was where I needed to be," he said, not meeting your eye. "I came home and the only person I wanted to see was you."

His words meant more than you cared to admit. They filled you with warmth, bringing a flush to your cheeks that you prayed Harry didn't see.

"I missed you too," was all you could think of to say.

"And I—I want more," Harry said. "I was halfway across the world, and I was writing and walking around the city, and all I wanted was to share those moments with you and write with you and wake up next to you. I just...I want you in my life, Y/n."

"As your friend?" you asked, your voice stuck somewhere in your throat.

"However you'll have me."

Your heart leaped in your chest, but you stopped yourself from launching across the couch into his arms. It was all too good to be true. Harry wasn't ready for a relationship before he left, and you'd been gracious and understood where he was coming from. And now that a few weeks had passed, he suddenly wanted to be whatever you wanted him to be. In the back of your mind, the fact that he hadn't said "boyfriend" pricked a sensitive part of your brain. It was silly and minuscule, and it shouldn't have mattered, so you tried not to let it.

Still, you were unsure. You knew Harry would never be so cruel as to feed you words for the sake of placating you, but something left you hesitating. Maybe it was that the last time you saw Harry, he told you he couldn't give you what you wanted and now he was saying he could, or maybe your heart was still protecting you from potential pain, you weren't sure. But you couldn't give in.

Almost as if he could read the jumbled thoughts running around in your head, Harry inched toward you, his expression soft and open. "I can tell you're unsure, and I don't blame you," he said, taking a chance and reaching a hand across the couch to hold yours. "Let me prove it to you."

Brows furrowed, you tilted your head to the side. "Prove it?"

"We'll go slow," Harry said as he nodded and moved closer. Close enough to tip your chin up with his knuckle. "We can do that, can't we? We don't have to rush things. We can just...go on a date and see what happens, right?"

Despite the hesitation, a smile twitched at the corner of your lips. "Harry Styles...are you asking me on a date?"

Harry's responding grin was wide and sweet as honey. "Only if you're saying yes."

Eight weeks ago, you'd stepped out of your comfort zone by asking Harry for more, and watching him walk away hurt more than you ever thought it would. Your instinct was to hide, to crawl back into your shell before you could get hurt again. But you knew Harry had been hurt before too, and now he was trying. Even though they'd both had their hearts broken for different reasons and had every reason not to give into their feelings and hide, preferring to be alone.

It took you two years to..."forgive yourself" didn't seem like the right words. To be ready to put yourself into the world again, to allow yourself the possibility of hurting and being hurt in that way again. Your scars had healed over into faint white lines after two whole years. Nearly imperceptible, but still there, a subtle but constant reminder of what you stood to lose if you ruined things again. But also a reminder that you could love and lose and still heal, and maybe even love again. Harry hadn't been there when he left, and at the time you hoped he would be. And maybe part of you knew he would be, because you'd gotten there too in your own way.

The hope that kindled in your chest made you nervous, but it made you excited too.

"I—I don't want you to feel like you have to do this because—"

Harry's index finger was on your lips before you could say anything else. Your eyes nearly crossed as you looked down your nose at it, and you heard his chuckle at what was most likely a silly look on your face. "I know I don't have to do anything, Y/n. I needed some time to clear my thoughts and untangle all of my feelings. I want this. I want you."

Over your time spent with Harry, you'd come to realize he had expressive eyes. While he kept a lot to himself and didn't share much unless it was through songwriting, his eyes said everything. This close to his face, you could see the honesty, the earnestness. You decided to believe him, to believe in whatever had been forming between you since the first time you'd met.

Not holding back, you did lunge for him this time, but gently, seeing as he was so close. Harry seemed surprised by your sudden movements but didn't stop you as you took his face in your hands and kissed him for all he was worth. You felt his face slowly split into a grin as his hands roved up and down your back, as if he was finally reacquainting himself with your body. Or maybe it was that this kiss was different from all the others, with different expectations and intentions and promises for more.

"What happened to slow?" he asked, teasing as you nipped at his ear.

"Tell me to stop," you said, feeling out of breath.

He didn't, you knew he wouldn't, but that only made him grin even more. "I still want to do things properly," he told you, leaning back against the couch and taking you with so that you were on top of him, your body flush against his. "I want to take you out, I want to hold your hand and pull your chair out for you at dinner."

Resting on your elbows, you lightly traced the delicate planes of his face with your finger. Harry's eyes tracked your movements while he waited for you to answer, kissing the pad of your index finger when it passed over his lips. You smiled a little, unsure of where all this giddiness was coming from but hoping it wouldn't go away.

"I want that too," you murmured before kissing the tip of his nose. "But maybe that can start tomorrow."

Harry's hand came up to cradle the side of your face, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch. Everything already felt different. New and fragile and breakable. So, so breakable.

"Your heart was glass, I dropped it," you'd written way back. You had the potential to break Harry's heart. But the notion that you wouldn't was so intrinsic in that moment, you felt like the only way you would crack the glass this time was by squeezing too hard, by liking him too much.

You didn't know what you would do if Harry would drop yours.

It was a terrifying thought, one that was too dreadful for the peaceful bliss taking over your apartment. Harry was looking at you like your hair was made of stars or pure sunlight, and it warmed every inch of you down to your bones as he rubbed his thumb back and forth across your cheekbone.

"I can get behind that," he said quietly.

After that, you finally relaxed. Your head found purchase on his chest, comfortable against the soft material of his sweatshirt despite the firmness of his body beneath you. You breathed in deep, holding it in for a few seconds before letting it all out in one soft exhale. With that breath, you felt the last of your doubts flutter away—for now, at least—allowing you to believe in the promise Harry offered you.

*.*

"Come on. If you're not going to let me go to work, you're gonna help me here."

You managed to untangle yourself from Harry, who pouted at you as he remained sprawled out on your bed. Leaving him there, you went to the front door to where you'd left your guitar case when you found him on your doorstep yesterday. Slipping your well-loved guitar from the case, you walked back over to Harry, who was now sitting up on the couch. His eyes tracked your every move as you made your way back over to him. His stare felt heated, causing a flush to your cheeks, but you ignored it as you settled on one end of the couch, resting the guitar in your lap.

"Looks like you already have something in mind," Harry said. He still sounded playful, but you knew he wasn't going to try and dissuade you from this. He was just as eager to write as a team as you were.

Writing without Harry while he was gone was strange. At first you thought you'd be fine, seeing as you'd preferred working in solitude most of your professional career. Yet when he left, you were unable to write. You found yourself looking for him, raising your head to ask what he thought of a melody when he wasn't there, thinking out loud as if he was still in the room to bounce ideas off of.

You'd missed him in more ways than one, that was certain. This new dynamic with Mitch had been good, fun even. You attributed your openness to teamwork to Harry, and now you were nearly finished with an album, a project you'd been part of from start to finish, something you'd never really been able to say before. You'd enjoyed going into the studio to work with Mitch, to share song ideas with Cam and see where she took them. If given the option, you would do it again in a heartbeat.

But something in you settled as you began to idly pluck at the strings of your guitar, Harry sifting through his duffle bag until he produced his leatherbound journal from it. You felt comfortable, complete, not an atom out of place as you began to sing the lyrics of a partial song you were going to work on with your team today.

"There is a town, somewhere down a country road," you sang softly. "I see it now, take it everywhere I go. The river sways, I can almost here it now. As if to say, 'You're not the only one who wants a way out.'"

"That's nice," Harry said, his thumb tapping against his knee in time with the music coming from your guitar. "Something new?"

"I've had the idea for a song about a small town for a while," you said, fingers still plucking at the guitar strings, though not with much intent while you spoke to Harry. "My hometown."

Nodding, Harry said, "You don't talk about your home much."

"Not much to say," you shrugged. "At least I thought so. Now I just keep thinking how so much has changed since I moved away. How much I've changed,"

"Good changes, I hope," he said.

You shrugged again, trying not to let the topic make you squirm. You normally didn't around Harry, but perhaps being away from him for so long had you shying away just a little. "Good and...neutral, I guess. Sometimes I feel like I've changed so much I can't even reconcile who I was then and the person I am now. Not really sure if that's a good or bad thing yet. To be determined, I suppose."

Harry processed the information quietly, letting the conversation end there. You fell into a comfortable silence as both of you played around with lyrics and melodies in your own heads. You eventually grabbed your own journal to jot notes down in, and at one point Harry took your guitar into his own lap to play around, humming quietly to himself.

His plucking of the strings slowly became something less abstract and more concrete, and it eventually became the backdrop to your thinking process. You liked the tune he played better than what you'd originally come up with, and you let it guide your pen as you jotted down words and phrases until you eventually had something that might've been a pre-chorus or a bridge. Shifting closer to Harry on the couch, you showed him what you had so far, hoping he'd be able to fill in the gaps like he normally could.

You rested your cheek on his shoulder as he took your journal and pen from your offering hands. For a minute, the only sound was the tapping of the pen in his hand in time with the melody he'd been playing moments ago. You watched with slow blinking eyes as he eventually began to scribble his own little notes beside yours, sometimes writing lyrics of his own and occasionally circling a word you'd written and putting a suggestion above it.

The scratching of pen on paper was an unusual lullaby, but sure enough, the warmth emanating from Harry's body and the familiarity of this moment, yet something precious and new blooming between you, was enough for your breaths to deepen, your blinks to become fewer and far between. Even after being on a plane all the way from Japan, the scent of Harry's cologne and whatever laundry detergent he used lingered on his clothes. It was so familiar, as much of a welcome home as him actually being here beside you.

Breathing in deep, you huddled closer to Harry. Feeling your movements at his side, Harry shifted so that you were leaning against him more comfortably, his body solid yet soft beneath your cheek. "I missed this," you murmured, the words clinging together as you inched closer and closer toward sleep. "I missed you."

There was no stiffening of his posture at the words, no hesitation or uncertainty as he said, "I missed you too."

*.*

"Don't leave again," Y/n said.

Harry was pretty sure she was already half asleep, was sure she wouldn't even remember this conversation when she woke up in a couple of hours. But even so, the words made him pause, the pen in his hand jerking almost imperceptibly.

Y/n hadn't brought up his departure since he'd come back yesterday. Even now, she didn't sound resentful, though that could've been the fact that she was seconds away from falling asleep, but Harry didn't think so. Yet in her current limbo between states of consciousness, she revealed something that she probably wouldn't have if she'd been fully awake.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you by going," he said, and he knew he was a bastard for saying it when she was seconds from falling asleep.

A deep breath, then another, then another.

"Don't leave me again," was all she said in reply, perhaps all she could muster just before unconsciousness finally settled over her like a blanket.

Harry's heart clenched. Don't leave me again, she told him. He'd learned rather quickly that despite all that she'd been through, Y/n hid a gentle heart behind all those walls she put up. A heart that had been battered and bruised and hidden away after so much unhappiness. Harry realized early on in their semi-friendship that he never wanted to be the reason for another wall between Y/n and the rest of the world; he wanted to be someone she could entrust to protect her gentle soul, to be someone who helped her realize she was much more fierce than she knew.

Knowing he'd caused her pain by leaving dug at him, even if leaving was in some ways very necessary. Harry needed that distance, that time away to clean up the mess his ex had left in him. Nothing about his previous relationship's demise was simple, and the things he'd begun to feel for Y/n while still trying to untangle himself from his ex only complicated things. Harry knew it would be a disservice to both himself and Y/n if he jumped into something he wasn't ready for. He felt horrible that night she'd laid all her cards on the table before him. He knew that it had taken a lot to state what she wanted from him so plainly, to realize that she was still deserving of more after what she'd been through. And Harry had to offer the same honesty, even if it was something even he didn't want to hear.

But it had been the right thing. For both of them. Of that he was sure. Harry had done a lot of introspecting, had allowed himself to simply be alone in a way he hadn't been for a long time. His last relationship was perhaps the most significant, but it was one in a rather long list of failed attempts to find love. His friends often teased him for not knowing how to not be in a relationship, and after this last breakup, he realized how right they were.

Harry liked Y/n. He was fascinated by her talent as a songwriter and enamoured by the person she was outside the studio. He liked her chunky patterned sweaters and the array of rings on her fingers that changed from day to day. He liked that she wasn't perfect, that she was shy to an almost stubborn degree, that he had to work hard to piece together who she was bit by bit until a beautiful mosaic was laid out in front of him.

But he needed to know that he knew how to be alone before giving himself over to her entirely. Who was he outside of a romantic relationship? Harry honestly had no idea, and while that had never even so much as itched his brain before, it terrified him after things ended with his ex. He owed it to himself to try to stand on his own two feet, to live on his own and know that he could be content to do so. He didn't need a relationship to be happy, that was what he set out to discover.

And once he did. Once he lived and wrote songs and got coffee and ate by himself, and didn't feel like an utter disaster, he knew he'd be okay.

Harry enjoyed himself in Japan. He'd committed himself to this soul-searching endeavor and actually came out on the other side of it pleased with himself. And at the end of it all, when he knew a relationship with Y/n wasn't something he needed but something he wanted, he knew he was ready to go home. He wanted her a lot, to be fair, so much so that he often wrote about her, and talked about her to the few friends he made in Japan. But being alone didn't kill him, and he was able to see that for himself the two months he was gone.

He left his feelings for his ex in Japan, letting every last bit of baggage he'd been quietly carrying around with him slide off his shoulders, holding onto those precious little blossoms of feeling for Y/n and bringing them home, right to her doorstep.

The plan hadn't been to go straight to her apartment, but that was where he told his driver to go when he slid into the backseat of the sleek black car his manager had sent to pick him up. Harry was actually supposed to go home and rest so he could meet with his label and discuss the progress of his album, but he stayed at Y/n's place anyway. He knew these next few months as the album went into recording and production mode wouldn't leave much time to spend alone with Y/n, and he needed these fleeting moments. He needed to hear all about the new album she was helping to write and what she and Buddy Holly had gotten up to while he was gone. He needed to kiss her, to touch her, to let her fall asleep against him while they wrote a song about a small town.

"I won't, I promise," Harry murmured, even though he knew Y/n was already asleep.

It was perhaps a promise to himself. He knew Y/n would never be that vulnerable, wouldn't reveal just how much she cared for him if she'd been entirely conscious. She'd been forgiving, if not a little hesitant when he showed up on her doorstep, but she'd never resented him for leaving. At least he thought she didn't. She'd been understanding when he left, but in her sleepy state, he saw a little bit of the hurt he'd inflicted by leaving, by rejecting her desire for something more with him.

Harry knew he'd done it for the right reasons, but guilt curled in his chest at the thought of hurting Y/n. He would commit himself to not doing it again, to be someone worthy of her vulnerability. Harry was aware of how precious it was for Y/n to open herself up to him like this. He wouldn't take that gift for granted.

Shifting around a bit, Harry took Y/n into his arms and stood up. He padded down the carpeted hallway to her bedroom, where a large, four-poster bed with a mountain of pillows and one stuffed animal lay on. He set her down on white sheets with little red polka dots, pulling up the covers over both of them. Y/n curled into Harry immediately, and he didn't even bother trying to shove away the warmth that spread through him.

With Y/n's cheek squished adorably against his chest, Harry rested his arm behind his head as his eyes flitted about her bedroom.

He'd been inside it a handful of times, but it never failed to amaze him, because for someone so convinced they were undeserving of love, they sure loved heart decorations. Retro Valentine hearts were mounted on one wall, twinkly lights dangling between them; pink and red heart-shaped candles remained unlit on her vanity, a heart-shaped guitar on a stand next to it. Everything centered around something pink or red—the sheets, the pillows, the jewelry dishes and mirrors, even the stuffed bunny under her pillow that Harry knew Y/n slept with, even if she wouldn't admit it.

It was a mystery he'd yet to solve, but he imagined that would come in time.

Soon enough, Harry's own eyes began to droop. He nestled deeper into the bed, trying not to completely drape himself over Y/n. They'd never actually spent the night in the same bed before last night. Sometimes they'd fall asleep together on the couch, but this was different. Last night, they'd collapsed into bed after staying up late talking, nearly well into the morning. There had been no tangled limbs or breaths keeping time because they slept so close together, just two people in dire need of sleep.

In some ways, Harry wondered if it was too much as they were only just beginning to explore this thing between them, but he couldn't make himself leave. He turned over so his back was to her, trying to provide a modicum of space should Y/n want it, but not even a minute later, an arm snaked around his waist, a cheek pressed against his back as one of her legs slotted between his.

It was safe to say Harry fell asleep with a small grin and a full heart.

*.*

The following weeks flew by, and you saw Harry every single moment that you could.

Now that his album was in the later stages of production, he was constantly in meetings for promotion—release dates, interviews, live performances, and concept art for the album. You stayed out of those conversations, as you had your own projects to complete and deadlines to meet. But you'd be lying if you said you weren't curious. You'd never been part of those conversations before, as you merely wrote your songs and sold the demos to artists or bands. Seeing an album from start to finish was intriguing, though perhaps part of the reason was the hand you played in it and how important Harry was to you.

But even with all of that going on, Harry stayed true to his word.

He made every moment count. Suddenly there were flowers on top of the grand piano when you entered your studio, and he stopped by whenever he could. Each petal, each little note attached to the bouquets, filled your stomach with butterflies. And after you were both done for the day, Harry invited you over to cook dinner and listen to records. The atmosphere was different than before Harry left, a more romantic feel in the air as you sat across from each other, the warm glow of candles the only lighting in the room.

With the public attention Harry tended to get, you both agreed to keep things quiet for now. You'd always preferred anonymity, and although you knew your relationship would eventually become public, you wanted it to stay between you and Harry and your friends and family. Hopefully in the future, when this precious thing between the two of you wasn't so new, you would feel more comfortable. Until then, it would be secret dates and romantic dinners from home, but that didn't make it feel any less special or real.

It didn't take long for your friends to notice, though.

You and Harry didn't have much to hide in front of Sylvia and the rest of the people who made up your little group, but neither you nor Harry really went out of your way to tell anyone about the slight change since he had come back from Japan.

One night, Sylvia decided to switch up the usual gatherings from game night to a night at a karaoke bar. You didn't mind. In fact, you loved watching everyone drink and take up a mic in the private room that had been rented out. Harry stayed by your side most of the night, an arm wrapped around your waist, his thumb subtly sneaking beneath the hem of your patchwork top to graze your skin and leave goosebumps in its wake, and a neat tequila in his other hand, your leather jacket draped over his arm after he insisted on carrying it for you. You opted for a margarita, sipping on it idly while you went between talking to Harry and watching the chaos unfold in front of you.

"What do you say, are we up next?"

"We?" you asked incredulously. "You go. I've actually been wanting to see you perform."

Harry chuckled, his nose brushing against your temple. "Come on, love. For me?"

You both knew you had a soft spot when Harry pleaded with you. Just one more hour at his place, just one more kiss, getting his favorite takeout, all of it just required a slight widening of his eyes and him saying, "Pleeeease," or, "For me?" as he nuzzled your cheek with his nose, and he had you. It was mostly harmless, but just like all the other times, it was working now.

"I don't know..." you said anyway, a small grin creeping its way onto your face. Harry only doubled down, which was exactly your goal.

"Please? I'll make it worth your while."

So that was how you ended up in front of the rest of your group of friends, a mic in your hand as you waited for Harry to pick the song. When the opening chords sounded through the speakers, you beamed, looking over at him with raised brows. Harry just sauntered over to you with a small grin, dancing over to you in that silly way of his that you learned was a unique trait he possessed.

"Islands in the Stream" was one of the songs the two of you had bonded over the last few months. You'd played it for him on the drive to Buddy Holly's favorite dog park, and the two of you sang it most car rides ever since.

Harry started the song, and you joined in, keeping your eyes on him for most of it. He definitely had more stage presence than you did, which you were fine with, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy yourself. Harry's eyes were on you the whole time too, his hip bumping against yours and spinning you around occasionally.

By the time it was over, there were cheers all around, and not just because Harry kissed you at the end. You'd made it all of two steps off the makeshift stage in the private room before you were tugged into a corner away from everyone else.

"What the hell was that?"

Sylvia was looking at you with wide, surprised eyes, though a grin stretched her cheeks. You couldn't hide your blush, opting to take the drink that Harry handed you once he found you again. "What?"

"You—You two are unbelievable," she laughed. "So this is real now? You two aren't acting like children anymore and pretending you aren't in love with each other?"

Trust Sylvia to make things between you and Harry awkward. Both of you laughed, though yours was more nervous because she'd revealed a truth you weren't quite ready to accept. Harry merely draped a hand over your shoulders and kissed the top of your head. "Looks like it, doesn't it?"

*.*

"You look nervous," you said, taking Harry's hand that rested on the gear shift.

"Me? Never," Harry insisted, though he gripped your hand a little too tightly for you to believe it.

"It's just one brother," you said, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders.

You wouldn't lie to him and say meeting all three of your brothers at once would've been a walk in the park. But this was just Andrew, who was only in town for a night. You were pretty sure Hayden and Evan sent Andrew to investigate your relationship with Harry. For that exact reason, you hadn't divulged much to any of your brothers. After the whole, "Are you sure you're not menstruating" incident, you'd been giving Hayden the cold shoulder, so you knew for a fact that he'd enlisted Andrew's help to, at the very least, get back in your good graces, and hopefully get a little intel on your budding relationship.

"Andrew's harmless, I promise," you said. "He's about as threatening as a puppy."

Harry chuckled as he pulled into the trendy bar you had agreed to meet your brother at. "See, I want to believe you, but I've seen your brother play hockey, so...I don't."

Leaning across the center console, you kissed his cheek, quickly wiping away the lip gloss you'd left behind. Even in the dim lighting of the car, you saw Harry blush, which made you nudge him with your nose playfully. "I'll keep him in line, I promise."

You led Harry inside the bar, entering through a side door to remain relatively unnoticed, neck craning for your brother. Andrew wasn't hard to spot, his long arms waving back and forth from a tall table tucked in the corner of the bar. Squeezing Harry's hand once, you walked over to where your brother stood by waiting with open arms.

"How's my little sister?" Andrew asked as he squeezed the living daylights out of you.

You rolled your eyes, not even bothering to remind him you were older. Instead, you stepped back and introduced him to Harry. For all his nerves, Harry didn't show it as he shook Andrew's hand and asked how he was doing. Even when you knew your brother squeezed his hand too hard, Harry just smiled and sat down on the barstool.

Things went surprisingly well. Despite your earlier reassurances, you'd been a little nervous about the questions Andrew might ask, ones not necessarily thought up by him, but by the brothers who were absent tonight.

"So, Harry, where do you see this relationship with my sister going? I noticed she didn't introduce you as her boyfriend."

Perhaps you'd spoken too soon.

"Andrew, seriously?" you said, kicking him under the table. "Tell Evan to butt out."

"Evan's not—"

"Oh please," you said. That question had your oldest brother written all over it. "Andrew, you leave our brothers out of this or I'll tell Harry what they used to call you in high school."

Blushing, Andrew backed down immediately, a flush crawling up his neck. You didn't like stooping to your brothers' level, usually the silent treatment got your brothers to grovel after pissing you off, but they really couldn't be surprised when you did from time to time. You learned from the best after all.

Clearing his throat, Harry broke up the stare down you and Andrew had been locked in. "Um, to answer your question, I think we both—not to speak for you, Y/n—but I think we both see this evolving into something more, we just haven't had that conversation yet."

His words filled you with warmth. You'd been thinking the same—you wanted more from Harry when he came back, and things had progressed from there. You didn't think boyfriend and girlfriend titles were far off, but now that you knew where you and Harry both stood, you were okay with taking things slow.

Not that Andrew, or your other brothers, for that matter, needed to know that.

The rest of the night went much better. Andrew eased up and was finally able to ask questions that had nothing to do with the intimate details of your relationship with Harry, and when Harry began asking Andrew about playoffs, it was all your brother could do to not talk about hockey.

Your brother left you and Harry in the parking lot with a final farewell of, "You're alright, Harry Styles, and you," he said facing you with a pointed stare. "Stop ignoring Hayden, please. You know how he gets when you don't give him attention."

Huffing, you said, "I'll think about it."

Andrew grinned. Your brothers were a lot of things, but from the moment you became a part of the family, you were a little princess to all of them. Evan, Hayden, and Andrew had their moments, but they never liked to make you too mad. Most of the time. Still, you knew Andrew, and you knew he liked to be the unspoken, "favorite brother."

Harry took you home, his hand in yours the whole way back. Neither of you said anything, unwinding from the interesting night. It honestly could've gone a lot worse, in your opinion. Andrew really was the least of your worries.

Like a gentleman, Harry walked you to the door when you got home. You held back from unlocking your apartment and stepping inside despite the cold, taking his hand in yours. "I'm sorry if things were a little tense tonight."

Harry shook his head. "You really have them wrapped around your finger, you know that?"

"They have good intentions. They just...they were all I had for a long time. They're protective. Especially Evan."

Growing up, your brothers were pretty much your whole family. You were all bonded by the same shitty father, growing up raising and protecting each other. You knew the questions and the protective attitudes came from a good place, especially after the way things broke down with Gavin and his family. Evan saw how much it affected you, and probably just didn't want to see you get hurt again.

"Well, I'm glad. Even if they do slightly terrify me."

"They're big pushovers," you said with a laugh. "And like you said, they're wrapped around my finger. You'll be fine, I promise."

Harry smiled, tipping your chin up. "Yeah? You promise?"

"Mhmm," was all you could manage as he began to kiss your neck, a chill that had nothing to do with the brisk weather licking down your spine. The excitement that surged through you almost had you leaping into his arms. You settled for wrapping your arms around his neck. "I know we've been taking things slow, but I—I wouldn't mind it."

"You wouldn't mind what?" Harry teased, pulling away slightly when you tried to kiss him. "Might need to do a little better than that if you want me to be your boyfriend."

Everything was so easy with Harry. The playful teasing, the serious conversations, getting drinks with your overprotective brother, all of it. You hadn't wanted someone this much since—well, since forever. Harry just made you so happy, and you wanted to chase that feeling, not hide from it. You spent way too much time hiding from life, from love.

Reaching up on your toes, you kissed him, your fingers curling around the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck. Harry backed you against the door to your apartment, the hum coming from his chest once your tongues brushed together reverberating through you. His cheeks were cold as you held them in your hands, and you wanted nothing more than to haul him inside and never let him leave. But he had to be up early tomorrow and had to go back to his cat. You would make sure he'd regret leaving, though.

Eventually, you let go of him, your hands smoothing down the knit sweater he wore. You'd spent ages on the phone with him as he freaked out over what to wear. One coat was too flashy, but that t-shirt said he wasn't putting in any effort and didn't care about meeting a member of your family. On and on until you eventually made him turn the camera around to face his closet and pick something out for him. Black jeans and a black sweater with colorful depictions of the solar system eventually convinced him to finally leave the house. It was a little silly, but you appreciated how much effort he wanted to put into meeting Andrew, who absolutely would have reported back to Hayden and Evan what Harry wore, but Harry didn't need to know that.

"I don't want to be scared of feeling good anymore," you whispered. "I don't want to feel guilty for chasing something that feels right. Please tell me you feel the same."

"I do," Harry murmured. His forehead rested against yours as his hands found the perfect place on your waist, finding the sliver of skin revealed between your halter top and your jeans, and the look in his eyes was something so comforting, a safe assurance you hadn't felt in a long time.

Harry made you feel safe. He made you smile and knew things about you no one else did, not even your brothers, and he didn't seem put off by it. He understood your creative process, gave you space when you needed it, and was there for you when needed someone but didn't know how to ask.

You were still perhaps too scared to even think about the word love, but looking up at Harry then, you thought there might be a day where you felt brave enough to tell him how you really felt.

*.*

The club was packed tonight, bodies surrounding you on all sides. As someone bumped into you from behind, you gripped Mitch's arm on instinct, determined not to fall over or get swept up in the sea of people waiting for the band to start their set.

"Remind me why we're here again?" you asked, shouting over the crowd and thumping bass.

For a moment, you worried Mitch hadn't heard you, but then he shouted back, leaning in close so you could hear him. "Because they asked us to be here. We heard their demos, and you said they had potential. And—"

"Alright, alright. I get it. I just didn't think there'd be this many people."

"Kind of a good thing though, isn't it?" a voice said from behind you.

Turning around, you couldn't help the wide grin that took over your face. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Mitch give you a pointed look, but you ignored it, throwing your arms around Harry. "You found us!"

"Course. I could spot my two best friends from a mile away."

Being regarded as Harry's friend made your stomach tighten despite knowing he didn't mean it that way, especially since you were around so many people. And yet, it had you overthinking.

Don't be stupid, you thought, blinking those thoughts away. Squeezing Harry's hand once, you let go. "Did you get into the venue okay?"

You, Harry, and Mitch talked to—talked at, more like—each other before the show, huddled together and trying not to draw attention to yourselves. Because of the packed venue, you and Harry were able to stand relatively close to one another, your hands brushing occasionally. With Harry so close to you like this and unable to kiss his cheek at the very least, and you could tell he was having the same struggle. He was pressed up against your back, at one point, then his arm was draped over your shoulders, and when the lights finally dimmed as the set began, he was as close as he could be, his arm wrapped around your waist as you watched the band perform.

The band played music that was loud, full of heavy base lines and guitar riffs and drum solos that had the crowd jumping and jostling around. Harry was a steady force at your back until you eventually joined in with the audience, dancing along to the music beside Mitch.

In the few weeks you and Mitch worked on writing Cam's album together, you'd ended up spending more time outside of the studio as well. It was almost always music related, the two of you going out to see live performances in some form or another—local bands, shows at the Troubador and the Whiskey, performers just starting out in dive bars. It was something you typically did on your own, a good way to discover new artists and experience different sounds, and Mitch was more than happy to join you, showing you a couple of his favorite haunts, ones that he played in from time to time.

It was nice to get out of your apartment, to hang out with someone who appreciated discovering new music as much as you did. Mitch had helped you expand your horizons and had even taught you a thing or two about playing drums after you were particularly enthralled by a grunge band. It had become part of your routine as much as writing in the studio had—going out once or twice a week to find new talent and sometimes meeting up with the artist or band afterward to see if they were interested in collaborating. That wasn't always the goal, but there were moments when you couldn't help yourself.

"You were right. They do have potential," Mitch said. Both of you were buzzing after the performance, talking animatedly about the band and their set.

"I know! And I really liked their sound. There was something so nostalgic about it, but not in a gimmicky way, you know?"

Harry walked a couple paces behind you and Mitch as you ambled down the sidewalk toward where you'd parked. He'd been quiet coming out of the show, but you didn't think anything of it.

You kept talking to Mitch, promising to stop by the studio for another drum lesson when you had the chance, or when he had the chance, more like. Now that Harry's album was less an idea and more a fully realized project with a release date, Harry and Co. had been pretty busy lately. And once the album finally came out...well, you'd cross that bridge eventually.

When Mitch was gone, headed home in his car, you walked a little further to your side-by-side with Harry. You leaned in close, not really caring if anyone saw. Even through the layers of his heavy coat, you could feel the warmth that he emanated naturally. You loved being tucked into his side or curled around him, or just being as close to him as possible, an alarming amount. The word "love" fluttered through your mind every now and again, but you swatted it away every time. It was much too soon, and while you'd made many strides, there were still parts of you that remained afraid.

Afraid of what would happen if you got too attached and things ended, afraid of the distance rapidly approaching once Harry's album came out, afraid of your inner saboteur. It was all there, lingering, waiting to strike at any moment.

"Good show, right?" you said to Harry, eager to shake off the dark turn your thoughts had taken. "Mitch and I have been wanting to see them for ages."

"Yeah," he said, his eyes remaining on the street ahead. Then, "I...I didn't realize you spent so much time with him while I was gone."

"I honestly didn't expect to, but he was still working in the studio. We made quite the team."

Because you were so close, you felt Harry's whole body stiffen. A split second too late, you realized your poor choice of words.

"I—I didn't mean—"

"It's okay, Y/n," Harry said, and he didn't sound mad at all. Maybe just a little hurt, but you had a feeling he was trying his best not to make you feel bad. "I can't be upset that you kept working when I left. That's silly of me."

"It's not," you assured. "I—You're kind of the reason I pushed myself to work with him, and others," you admitted.

"Really?"

Nodding, you said, "I've always worked on my own. Always. But then we started writing together and things just clicked, and when you left, I—I didn't want to deny myself the opportunity to make great music. I mean, you and your team were doing incredible stuff even before I came along. I guess I just wanted to be a part of something great in that way too. Mitch helped introduce me to a new artist and we collaborated on a project of our own. I didn't...I didn't want to go back to being alone again.

"But it isn't the same," you said, stopping Harry in his tracks. Looking up at him, you smiled, for no other reason than he was there and he was yours. "We...We work differently together. You have to know that."

Harry's responding grin was small. "It is quite magical, isn't it?"

Reaching up on your toes, you kissed him, your hand cupping his cheek gently. The kiss was slow, gentle, a reassurance for the both of you. When you leaned back, yours and Harry's cheeks were flushed as you grinned brightly at each other.

As you slid into the passenger seat of Harry's car, you said, "I can't believe you'd be jealous of Mitch."

Harry ducked his head bashfully. "Oh hush. I was not."

"He's your best friend, H," you giggled. "Not to mention very, very taken."

"I believe I mentioned it was silly, didn't I?"

Taking his hand, you kissed the top of it. "You did."

Harry peeled out of his parking space, promising to make it up to you as he handed his phone over to choose the playlist for the ride home.

When you unlocked his phone, the home screen wasn't what popped up. Instead, the messages app was open, a string of messages that hadn't been replied to yet, going back a few weeks.

Can we talk?

I miss you. I miss us.

The silent treatment is childish, H.

Please call me.

Your hands suddenly felt cold and clammy, and Harry's phone nearly slipped out of them and onto the floor.

"Everything okay?"

Harry's voice dragged you out of whatever headspace you'd been launched into. Looking up, you mustered a smile, hoping the car's darkness would mask how flimsy it truly was.

"Yeah. Fine," you said, your voice not sounding like your own.

Quickly exiting out of the app, you pulled up his music, choosing a playlist at random before setting his phone down in the cup holder.

You felt like you were on one of those theme park rides, the ones that reach the heights of tall buildings just to fall straight down. You felt weightless, but not in a good way. It was as if you were falling and there was nowhere safe to land. That feeling in your stomach only grew until you were sure you were going to be sick.

Harry continued on none the wiser, chatting about this and that. You weren't exactly sure what he said, his voice was suddenly white noise. But you must've given him coherent responses because he didn't question your behavior. The only time he did was when you didn't invite him up to your apartment.

"I'm just really tired," you managed to say. "One too many margaritas, I guess."

Not putting up too much of a fight, Harry grinned and gave you a kiss. Despite the dread you felt, it still filled you with butterflies. You cared for him so much you didn't know what to do with yourself sometimes. And now there was...this.

"I'll call you tomorrow," he said, a sweet smile on his face.

He acted as if nothing was wrong, and it was convincing too. Almost to the point that you wanted to believe it too. Those messages were days old, save the most recent one, and Harry hadn't replied to any of them. That had to mean something.

Right?

*.*

After mentioning what you found to Sylvia, she demanded that what you needed was retail therapy. Shopping wasn't your favorite pastime, but you desperately needed a friend.

You met with her at an outdoor shopping mall, bundled up in your softest sweatshirt and puffy coat for comfort more than because of the weather. You hadn't wanted to go out at all today, or the last couple days since you saw Harry's messages. There had been an attempt to have Sylvia just come over so you could day drink together, but she wasn't having it.

So now you were wading through store after store, internally freaking out about where your relationship was headed. It was just getting off the ground, and now it was crumbling before your eyes. Harry was none the wiser, of course, but that was only because he was busy this week and you pretended to be busy because you weren't sure if you could keep it together in front of him. You needed a third-party perspective, a voice of reason before you sat down and talked to him about all this.

"You wanna tell me what happened?" Sylvia asked gently.

One thing you liked about Sylvia was that she was bold and brash and didn't try to mince her words, but you appreciated her tone now. Friend of Harry's first or not, she was here for you, and seeing as there weren't many people you could turn to, you needed her now more than ever. You could talk to your brothers, but you didn't want them to come out and hurt him. You would go to them if there was something serious going on.

"I...I thought we were finally on the same page," you said, and then it all came spilling out of you. You replayed that night in Harry's car as you combed through a rack of dresses. Sylvia was quiet through all of it, not saying anything until you were finished. "I don't know what to do. Is he—I never asked because it wasn't really my business, but he was clearly torn up over their break up. Do you think it's possible that he's not over her?"

Because that was what kept you up at night. Before he left, Harry hadn't been ready for a relationship. You knew there wasn't an exact timeline for healing a broken heart, but the seed of doubt had been planted, and now all you could think about was him leaving you for his ex. The thought terrified you. It made you want to run before you learned the truth, spare yourself the trouble of looking like an idiot.

But you called Sylvia instead, knowing running was not the best option, even if it was the most familiar.

"Oh, babe," she sighed. "I'm not going to lie, Harry was in love with her. They were...there's no other way to put it. They loved each other."

The whimper that escaped your lips was an accident, and when Sylvia heard it, she pulled you in for a hug. "He was in love with her," she repeated as she ran a soothing hand up and down your back. "I truly believe he's moved on Y/n. Harry wouldn't do that to you."

"But what about her?" you said. "She wants him back, and he—he didn't tell me that she's been reaching out, and I just can't help but feel like their history will win out."

"I don't think you realize how happy you make him," Sylvia said. "Yes, Harry loved her, but they broke up for a reason. I don't see him giving things a second go, especially now that he's with you. He's happy, Y/n. He's happy because you make him happy. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for all this. You just have to sit down and hear him out."

"You really think so?"

"He lights up at the mere mention of your name. You—You're like the sun to him," Sylvia promised. "So don't run from this, okay? Talk to him. Hear him out. Make him sweat a little for keeping this from you, but you owe it to yourself to hear his side of things."

You nodded, feeling a little reassured by what she'd said. You wouldn't feel a hundred percent until you talked things out with Harry, but this is a good start. At the very least, it kept you from wanting to run and hide from all this.

Laughing a little, you wiped a stray tear from your eye. "You know, when you said you were Harry's life coach, I didn't imagine you'd end up being mine too."

"It's what I'm good for," she said. "Now, let's see about doing a little shopping, hm? Ooh! And maybe we get our nails done."

Looping her arm through yours, she dragged you into the next aisle, feeling lighter with every step you took.

*.*

"Where is he? I'll kill him!"

This was the third time you'd heard that in the last couple of hours.

"Stand down, Hayden," you said from beneath your mountain of blankets. "He's not here."

Your brother's eyes widened as he looked in your direction, as if he didn't expect the pile of blankets to speak. He stalked over to where Andrew and Evan were standing in front of you, taking on a perplexed disposition. None of your brothers had ever really seen you this way. All the pranks, all the times they royally pissed you off when you were younger, you never really let it get to you. You could tell that although they wanted to be here for you, they weren't entirely sure how.

"Are you okay?"

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Just let me know where he is, Y/n."

They were doing their best to help, and you knew you owed them answers. You did call them after all. Well, that wasn't entirely true. You called Evan, who proceeded to call Andrew because your younger brother was closest in proximity to you. And Andrew called Hayden because of course he did. It was sweet that they all dropped everything to come see you, but now you felt put on the spot.

And you knew Hayden would make good on his word, and your other two brothers would have no trouble helping him, and that wasn't exactly what you wanted.

"I ended things with Harry," you said quietly.

"You said as much in your text, Y/n," Evan said. "But what happened? It seemed like you guys were really happy."

The thought of last night's events replayed in your mind, bringing a fresh wave of tears to the surface. Taking a shuddering breath, you said, "I thought we were too."

It all started last night at this party Harry invited you too. Something about fundraising and live music and dancing, and he said it was the perfect opportunity to get dressed up and go out and not worry about being photographed. You agreed, wanting to put the text messages from his ex that had yet to be discussed far from your mind. You knew you should've said something, but you wanted to give Harry the opportunity to come clean himself. The fact that he hadn't kept you up at night, but you promised yourself—and Sylvia—that you would bring it up after the party.

"Just one more night of normalcy before we have this conversation," you assured her. It was all you wanted. Just one night where this cloud wasn't hanging over your head.

So you went. Harry picked you up in a sports car that usually sat in his garage, practically mauling you when he saw you in your dress. It was simple, but you felt great in it—a short black number with white ruffles at the top and bottom. With your hair blown out and curled to perfection, little pearl droplets hanging from your ears, you felt like a dream, and every time Harry's gaze fell on you to track your figure up and down, your entire body was filled with butterflies.

And the night carried on perfectly. You and Harry sipped on champagne and kept to yourselves most of the night. You didn't really know anyone, and he was perfectly happy to keep you all to himself, kissing your cheeks and neck whenever he could, his hand never leaving your waist for a moment. It was exactly what you needed to take your mind off everything that had been swirling around in your head the last few days. When Harry was dancing and spinning you around in and out of his arms in a corner of the event space, it felt like you were the only two people to exist. There was no way he had any lingering feelings for his ex when he was smiling so brightly and laughing as you spun him out and back into your arms.

And then...it all just fell apart.

"Harry?"

At the sound of the woman's voice, Harry dropped your hand, coming to an abrupt halt beside you. You looked up, confused by the tension that suddenly lined his shoulders, but when you looked at the women who'd come up to your little corner, you just knew.

"H—Hi." Harry sounded breathless, his eyes never leaving hers once. All you could do was watch it all unfold in slow motion, all you could feel was the loss of his touch now that his hand was no longer in yours.

You cleared your throat when Harry didn't say anything. It was as if you had to pull him from whatever trance he'd fallen into at the mere sight of her. Dread filled your belly as he seemed to remember where he was, as he remembered you were there, blinking as he embraced his ex and introduced her to you.

"This is my friend Y/n."

His words felt like a sucker punch, all the air stolen from your lungs. You knew you and Harry hadn't put a label on your relationship, but to hear him refer to you as his friend right in front of his ex was devastating.

Your heart was glass, I dropped it.

Was this what it felt like? You never imagined you would be in this position, you never thought you would love someone enough to feel like you were coming undone at the seams at this kind of rejection. But perhaps that was just the universe coming to collect after thoroughly breaking someone else's heart yourself.

"I—I need some air," you heard yourself saying, not even looking to see if Harry noticed you leave or if he was too caught up in seeing his ex.

You didn't just get air, you Ubered home, unable to handle everything rushing through you. That was when you texted Evan, who merely responded with, I'm on my way, and twenty-four hours later, he was there, along with Hayden and Andrew.

You explained to your brothers what happened briefly, doing your best to not go into detail so you wouldn't start crying uncontrollably, though you'd be surprised if you had any tears left. You mostly just felt defeated, almost as if deep down you knew the happiness wasn't meant to last.

"He's an idiot, Y/n," Andrew said, resting a hand on Buddy's head to scratch him behind the ears. Your dog had been resting by your side since you came back last night, somehow sensing your despair. "Don't let him steal your happiness."

You nodded, but only because you had nothing else to say. You knew your brother meant well, but you just didn't believe him. This was par for the course in your eyes. Of course, when you fell for someone, they chose someone else. Maybe you were destined to be on your own, maybe love was overrated.

"Do you need anything?" Evan asked you, Hayden standing next to you. You could tell that they didn't really know what to do in this situation but that they wanted to be there for you. It was sweet, but there really wasn't anything to do.

"I'm okay," you said, convincing no one. "I think I might just take a nap."

"We can take Buddy for a walk. Maybe grab some food while we're out," Evan said. "Andrew, why don't you stay here and make sure she doesn't text him."

You rolled your eyes. "I literally just said I was going to sleep—"

"On it," Andrew said, hopping up to take your phone from where it was resting on your kitchen counter and slipping it into his pocket.

It was utterly ridiculous, but you were sure that was what your brothers were going for. The four of you weren't the touchy-feely type, you never had been. But one thing your brothers could count on was their ability to make you smile, make you laugh. And that was maybe exactly what you needed.

Making good on your word, you retired to your room, but you didn't sleep a wink despite how exhausted you were. Instead, you stayed up listening to records, shared favorites of yours and Harry's, the ones you bonded over together. It was hard to imagine that after such deep connections, the number of stories shared and late nights talking over bottles of red wine. Harry meant so much to you, and it killed you to think you didn't mean as much to him.

At some point, you must've dozed off—your eyes fluttering shut to the sound of Joni Mitchell—because suddenly you were jolting awake with a start. Muffled shouts could be heard through your closed door, which could only mean one thing.

Taking a couple minutes to wake up a little more and bolster yourself for unwanted confrontation, you finally stepped out of your room. The voices grew louder as you walked down the hall—Andrew kept telling Harry to leave while Harry claimed he just wanted to talk to you. You weren't sure if you were ready for this conversation yet, but it was here whether you liked it or not, and it would probably be for the best before Evan and Hayden came back or the argument happening at your front door drew unwanted attention.

"You can let him in."

Your voice was quiet, but not unsteady, which came as a surprise to you. It surprised your brother and the person who would've been your boyfriend too, their argument ceasing immediately as they looked over at you.

"Y/n," Harry breathed.

For better or for worse, he looked about as awful as you felt. There were bags under his eyes, and he was in the clothes he wore to the party last night. His tan trousers were rumpled, belt missing; his satin shirt was heavily wrinkled, the buttons mismatched in the wrong holes. His hair was a mess too, as if he'd been tossing and turning all night.

You didn't like seeing him like this, hated it, in fact. This wasn't supposed to be yours and Harry's story. You thought both of you had experienced the heartbreak and had found each other on the other side of it. Now you felt like you were right back where you started, and you hated it.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Andrew said, glancing warily between you and Harry. "Hayden and Evan will be back soon—"

"It's fine, Andrew. I promise," you told him, stepping closer to the front door cautiously, worrying that getting too close would ensnare you in Harry's magnetic pull. One whiff of his cologne might send you right into his arms, where your heart still thought it was safe. "Keep them occupied for me?"

It was clear that Andrew didn't agree with you on this decision. He stood there by the door for a long while, trying to assess your mental state. But he finally relented, taking a few steps toward you to hug you tightly. "Don't be afraid to give him hell," he murmured in your ear. Then, after passing back your phone, he left, but not before glaring murderously in Harry's direction.

When you and Harry were finally alone, your apartment was silent for the first time in hours. Almost too silent. Harry just stared at you with this broken look in his eyes, and you...you couldn't dredge up the energy to start this conversation. It was clear Harry didn't either. You watched as he opened and closed his mouth a few times, but you had no desire to help him out.

"Can we sit?" he finally asked, his voice sounding tired and raw.

Unable to handle the look in his those devastated green eyes, you looked down at where your sweatshirt engulfed your hands. "I'd prefer it if we didn't."

Sitting meant forced proximity, and you were already pushing yourself to have this conversation. This distance between you and Harry would be where you drew the line.

"Oh," Harry said, sounding surprised. "Okay. I—I don't know what else to say other than I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Y/n."

"For what exactly?" you asked, not expecting the bitterness in your tone.

"For making it seem like we were just friends in front of her, for freezing last night. I—She'd been texting me the last few days and I've ignored her, but I didn't expect to see her."

"I know about the texts," you found yourself saying.

It was clear Harry hadn't expected that. A look of confusion passed over his face as he asked, "Wh—Why didn't you say anything?"

"Why didn't you?" you said, unable to hide the hurt, the betrayal.

"It was nothing, and I didn't want to bring any attention to it. I thought if I just ignored her enough, she would stop, and she did eventually stop, but then I saw her last night, and I didn't want to make her feel worse by showing her I'd moved on—"

"But you haven't," you said. "You're...protecting her. Sparing her feelings while fucking me over. I—I could've gotten over the texts. I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt because you hadn't responded to her. But watching you call me your friend was such a slap in the face."

"I'm sorry, I fucked up. I know I did," Harry said, tears pooling in his eyes.

You could tell he meant it. You knew he realized what he'd done was shitty, but could you move on from it?

"I believe that you're sorry," you said. At that, something like hope flickered in his face, but you snuffed it out just as quickly as it came. "But I also think you still have unresolved feelings for her. And I—I don't want to be second to you. Not in that way."

"So that's it?"

You knew Harry like the back of your hand. You knew what the little quiver of his lip meant, understood the tight clench of his fists around the hem of his shirt. You could read every line of emotion on his face, and you wondered if he could pick you apart the same way.

"You know, all this time we've bonded over our respective heartbreak as if our pain was the same," you said, more to yourself than to him. "But what I'm realizing now, what I started to realize last night, was that mine stemmed from feelings of inadequacy, of never being enough for someone. I broke up with someone because I wasn't in love with them, and that devastated me. But you...no matter how the relationship fell apart or who ended it, you loved her, and she loved you. That feeling doesn't just wash away with the evening tide."

"Y/n—"

"And that's...that's okay, you know?" you continued. "You loved her. Love her. That's not a bad thing. But—But I'm in love with you too, and I can't—I'm not going to compete with someone who already has your heart. I won't."

Tears kissed your cheeks as you blinked. Your hands shook, but your voice was clear. Harry could deny it all he wanted, but you saw the truth laid bare before you. You weren't the only person occupying space in his heart, and after everything you'd been through, you didn't want to settle for anything less than what you deserved.

"That's not true, Y/n," Harry implored. He looked a little frantic now that he knew your mind was practically made up. "I fucked up, I know that. I saw her, and I froze. It was just—"

An instinct, a gut reaction, that was what he didn't want to say. "I don't want someone's initial reaction to be to let go of my hand," you said softly, wiping away a tear with a sleeve-covered hand. "I want—"

Your mom's ring in your pocket, my picture in your wallet. That song you'd written all those months ago, the one that held your deepest regrets and insecurities, all the little things you'd run from. You didn't want to run from it anymore. You thought you found someone to run toward, but you were wrong.

"I don't want what we have to be over, Y/n," Harry pleaded.

I don't believe you, you thought, and you couldn't be with him if you didn't trust his sincerity. "I think you need more time," you said instead of voicing what you felt.

"There's no convincing how much I feel for you, is there?" he said, sounding resigned to the fate that had come to pass.

You shook your head, your heart begging you to hold onto him and not let go, to drag him to bed and sleep until you both forgot. But you didn't do any of those things. "No. Not right now."

Harry finally bridged the gap between you and him. He kept a sliver of distance, the only contact he made being gentle fingers tilting your chin so you'd meet his eye. There was so much emotion swirling there, and you longed to kiss away all the anguish and pain until only love was left, but that wasn't in the cards. Not today, or in the days that would follow.

"I promised you that I wouldn't leave again," Harry said, his gaze unrelenting. Your brow furrowed, not recalling when he made that promise, but he continued before you could ask. "Not in the ways that count anyway, but I intend to keep that promise, Y/n. If you want space, I'll give it to you, but don't think for one second that I won't spend every single moment we're apart wishing we were together. I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if that's what it takes."

It was a surprise your body didn't turn to jello on the spot, that Harry couldn't hear the steady thump of your heart as it beat wildly in your chest. He said all the right things, every perfect word, but right now, that was all they were. And you didn't have it in you to believe him.

"I'm sorry that I did this to us, to you," he said. "I'll never not be sorry. "

Harry stood there, his fingers gingerly holding your chin, for a few moments longer. It was as if he was imploring you to read the message in his eyes, to understand everything he wasn't saying, but you just didn't have the energy.

When he finally left, one last promise that wasn't giving up on you and him yet on his lips before the door clicked shut, all the warmth in your body went with him. You briefly thought of all the times you clung to him to warm up, slipping his hands beneath his shirts and sweaters and nuzzling your face in his neck.

That last touch of Harry's fingers to your chin wasn't enough, not nearly enough, and now he was gone. The person you fell in love with, who knew you better than anyone else in the world, walked out the door, head held high as if this wouldn't be the last time you'd be standing so close.

You weren't convinced. Not when all your mind wanted to replay was his hand dropping yours, his dismissal of your relationship, and his disregard for your feelings to protect those of his ex.

*.*

You didn't see Harry in the weeks that followed, but you weren't sure if that had more to do with him working on his album. Sylvia kept you semi-updated, even though you insisted you were fine with not knowing what he was up to. It was a lie, of course, and she saw right through it, letting you know when Harry was gone for music video shoots, recording and producing music, album cover shoots, and meetings with his label.

Part of you was grateful he wasn't around because it made keeping your distance easier. After everything that happened, you convinced yourself Harry didn't know what he wanted, even if he claimed he was. The proof had been right in front of you, though, clear as day. There were unresolved feelings lingering in the corners of Harry's heart and mind, and he needed to deal with them or get back together with his ex, but you wanted no part of it.

That wasn't to say Harry wasn't on your mind. He was there constantly, taking up space and making you lose focus while writing or walking your dog. You'd never been in love before, and now that everything had imploded, you didn't know how to make it stop.

“Y/n?”

Blinking, you looked up to where Mitch stared at you, an acoustic guitar in his lap. You weren't sure why you agreed to meet with him for a writing session. You hadn't written much since everything fell apart, save the occasional depressing poem, but when Mitch reached out, you figured it was as good a time as any to get back to work and start writing again.

In theory, it was a good idea, but your heart just wasn't in it. It was thousands of miles away shooting a music video.

"Sorry, I thought this would be a good idea, but my head is just all over the place," you said, closing your notebook that only had a few disconnected lines written down.

"I'm sorry about everything," Mitch said. "I know it probably doesn't mean much coming from me, but he really does care about you. Like a lot."

"I know," you said dejectedly. "But he...he still loves her, I think. Or cares for her more than he lets on. Maybe even more than he realizes."

That night, you realized you had a losing hand. You didn't want to run like you'd done with Gavin, but you didn't want to fight either. You just felt...defeated, as if the fickle promise of love had bested you again.

"I can promise you he doesn't, but I know that's between you and him," Mitch said. Nodding to the journal in your lap, he asked, "Can I see?"

Shrugging, you handed it over. At this point, Mitch had learned a lot about you by being your writing partner, so you didn't mind him flipping through it. And honestly, there wasn't much to show anyway. A couple of measly lines did not a song make.

Mitch was quiet as he looked over the few things you'd written down, his expression gloriously passive as always. Since you started writing together, you'd struggled to read his expressions, not knowing what he thought until he voiced his opinion.

"Well, shit, kid," Mitch murmured on an exhale.

"What?"

Mitch looked up, one brow raised. Then, he began to read lines from your journal. "You've got my devotion, but man I can hate you sometimes...My hand's a risk I fold...Test of my patience, there's things that we'll never—"

"Hey wait a minute, that's not from today," you said, reaching for your journal. Mitch managed to land on one of your poems from a few days ago. That definitely wasn't meant to be part of today's writing session. "Give that back."

"This is good, Y/n. There's a song in here," Mitch insisted.

"Oh please. That's a terribly depressing poem fueled by a bottle of wine."

He pinned you with a stare, but you ignored it, and he eventually let it go. You didn't stay in the studio much longer after that, realizing that not much was going to come out of this session. And Mitch had to leave too, having to catch a redeye to London. "We're finishing up the album there," he explained.

It dawned on you then that you would be alone again. After becoming so used to having a partner of some kind while writing, too. It shouldn't have affected you so much, but it did. Somehow you'd grown to appreciate company while you were writing, and now your two favorite writing partners were leaving. They were the only two you'd ever had, but as history had shown, you weren't a huge fan of change.

You'd grown comfortable, but now the ground was shaking and crumbling beneath you. Though perhaps that should've been the familiar feeling.

"Can I keep the song?" Mitch asked on your way out of the studio. "I have an idea."

This time, you could read what was on your friend's face. And you could sense it, somehow. He wanted to show it to Harry. For the album, or because Mitch felt Harry needed to read the words. At this point, you were emotionally drained, and you weren't going to be there when Harry read your little poem, anyway. What did it matter?

"That's fine," you said, tearing the page out of your journal. "Don't be a stranger, okay? We can still collaborate over the phone or voice notes or whatever."

You thought that was where you and Mitch would leave things, but then he asked, "Do you think you'll ever write with him again?"

Harry was so much more than the person you were in love with. He was your friend, your first ever writing partner, someone you'd confided in. But he was also the person who made you feel betrayal and heartache. You didn't know how to reconcile those two people.

"I don't know," you said honestly. "I hope so."

*.*

There wasn't a single moment where Harry didn't think of Y/n while they were apart. He'd done what she'd asked of him, gave them the space to heal and settle. Harry understood where she was coming from, and he knew that he'd hurt her more than he ever imagined he would.

Everything fell apart so completely, too quickly for him to even pick up the pieces.

He knew he should've told her about the texts the minute he received them, and he couldn't really pinpoint why he didn't. It was in no way to hurt Y/n, or to protect his ex; honestly, he should've just deleted them as they came, but he didn't, and things only went downhill from there.

Harry didn't want space, he knew what he wanted, who he wanted. But he also knew that what he'd done, how he behaved, gave Y/n every right to push him away and not trust him. All he knew was that he'd never regretted anything more than seeing the devastated look on her face when they ran into his ex.

He couldn't take back what he'd done, all he could do was try to make things right the second Y/n gave him the opportunity. Thankfully, recording and producing his second album kept him busy enough to give her the space she'd asked for. Had he liked being so far away from her, both physically and emotionally? No. Hell no, but he just put everything he was feeling into his music, let it fuel him as he and his team found the sound he was going for with this project.

It wasn't until weeks after they'd ended things that he heard from Y/n. Really, Mitch had passed a folded up piece of paper with song lyrics on it and said it was Y/n's, but Harry was so desperate to get something from her that he'd counted it. "I have an idea for it. I just need you to finish it," Mitch had said.

"Finish it?" Harry asked as he unfolded the paper.

To him it looked like a poem, but Mitch seemed to be convinced it was a song. He read over it briefly, then again, and again and again until he was standing in front of his friend for an awkward amount of time.

"She's speaking to you in this," Mitch explained. "It could be a kind of conversation."

The idea had perplexed him, and at first, Harry had said no. It wasn't until the next evening when he was alone in his flat that he considered the folded piece of paper. He thought about all the songs he'd written with Y/n, the thoughts and feelings they'd shared with each and every lyric and melody. This wasn't the same, not even close. He just wanted things to go back to normal; he wanted to relive the moments where Y/n would sit with her guitar, her journal and his in his lap as they compared notes and ideas.

But this would have to do for now.

He didn't try to get in Y/n's head, to try to understand what she might've been feeling at the time she wrote the poem, though he had a pretty good idea. Harry merely did what Mitch suggested and responded to the lines already written down, adding them in where he saw fit.

"Put a price on...emotion, I'm looking for...something to buy," he murmured, quickly scribbling the words down before he forgot them. "I don't want to fight you, and I don't want to sleep in the dirt."

Writing this song gave Harry the opportunity to finally let go. Through it he was able to admit that he had been clinging to a crisp trepidation, a fear of giving all of himself over to Y/n with abandon. For a number of reasons—that things with Y/n would end up in flames like all his other relationships (check), that he didn't even know what love looked like anymore after so many failed attempts at finding it, that he wasn't good enough to be someone Y/n deserved, , that he was going to lose her forever if he didn't pull himself together enough for her.

By the time Harry was done, he felt dejected. The finished song was sad, too sad. It was about heartache and fear, it sounded finite. And that wasn't what he wanted his story with Y/n to be.

We'll be fine, he wrote before quickly crossing it our. Fine. Fine. Finefinefinefinefine—

"We'll be a fine line," Harry finally murmured.

He spent the rest of the night figuring out arrangements and melodies, all of it coming together in his head almost faster than he could write it all down. The album was pretty much in the final stretch. At this point, he and his team were finishing up recordings and working on the promotional aspects of the release, but he knew it down to every atom of his being that this song had to be on the album. It was the culmination of everything he'd experienced and felt, every emotion he'd embraced and shied away from. All of it crashed into each other in a blaze of horns and strings.

And maybe when he finally finished working through the main melody on his guitar, something soft and melancholic, yet soothing and hopeful, he should've gone right to sleep. He honestly should've been exhausted after the emotional whirlwind he'd been wrapped up in. Yet he somehow had his phone in his hands, his thumb hovering over a contact before he eventually hit the call button.

"Harry? What—Isn't it like four in the morning over there?"

Harry couldn't stop his breath from hitching when he heard Y/n's voice. He'd missed her so much it physically hurt sometimes. Part of him thought she wouldn't answer his call, but when she did, his entire body sagged with relief.

"I miss you," he said, not caring how pathetic he sounded. "I know I messed up, and I know I hurt you, and you probably were just being nice by suggesting the whole space thing when you really want nothing to do with me ever again—"

"Harry," Y/n said, her voice gently but firm. "Slow down, love."

Harry could've cried at the softness in her tone let alone the term of endearment. All he'd wanted for the last few weeks was to just hear her voice, her his name on her lips in a way that didn't sound hurt or disappointed.

"You were right," he told her. "I—I was holding back from you, and that wasn't fair to either of us, but especially to you. Y/n, I—I'm so sorry."

"I know you are," she whispered. "I think...I think I just wanted you to want me as much as I did."

"I do," Harry promised. "I know I haven't given you much to believe me, but Y/n the way I feel about you is so different than I've ever felt about anyone, and I think part of me was scared of that too after such a tremendous breakup."

For a moment, Y/n was silent over the phone, her breaths filling up his ear and making him long for the moments they spent huddled up in bed together.

"I know...I know we've been here before, but do you think we could try things again?" he asked. He almost didn't want to know, believing that perhaps ignorance really was bliss. But Y/n had put herself out there so many times, had taken so many risks despite everything she'd experienced. He could be brave too.

"What if—What if we started over?" she said.

"Start over?"

"I think we need a clean slate. If you're really and truly over your ex—"

"I am. I swear, Y/n," Harry said, not wanting hope to spark to life in him just yet.

"Then we need to put all of this mess behind us and start fresh."

"I—I'd like that." He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. When he called Y/n, he worried he'd come off a little crazy due to lack of sleep, but now he worried he might've fallen asleep in a songwriting craze and was now dreaming.

"I, um, I know you offered a few months ago, but if you were still looking for someone to join your band...maybe I could fill that spot?"

"You want to work for me?"

"I wasn't going to put it like that, but I guess technically yes," Y/n said. "I feel like you would pay a fair wage."

Harry chuckled, a satisfied sort of exhaustion taking over him now that he felt like his life was getting back on track. "I'll give you whatever you want if it means you'll join."

He just wanted her close, and if this was what a clean slate looked like to her, then he would oblige. Having her close, playing music together, being surrounded by their friends, it would be exactly what they needed to find their way back to each other.

"You should probably go to bed," Y/n said, breaking the content silence that had settled over them.

"Yeah, probably," Harry agreed, running a tired hand over his face. "So what have you been listening to recently?"

For a moment, he thought she would insist he get some rest. He supposed he'd be okay with it, finding peace in the fact things were finally looking up for them. But then she answered, and Harry was sure he'd never be able to wipe the smile from his face as he listened to his girl.

*.*

Months later

"Are you in love with Harry?"

The question wasn't directed at you, but you felt your cheeks redden immediately.

Sarah, who was much more quick on the draw than you would've been, smiled and said, "We all are, yeah."

You forced a soft laugh, unsure of where to direct your gaze. This whole interview had been one huge vat of chaos—and blatant misogyny—from the start, but Harry had conducted himself well so far, not balking or raising his voice once at the invasive and downright rude questions that were thrown at him. Perhaps you should've expected a question like this today, but you still struggled to keep your face neutral.

"So there's nothing going on romantically with Harry and the ladies?"

You suddenly found the keyboard in front of you incredibly interesting. What you really needed in this moment was a reassuring glance from Harry, but that would defeat the purpose of keeping your budding relationship a secret.

Attention from the public was still something you were getting used to. You'd gotten into songwriting because it was out of the public eye, but being with Harry would eventually lead you right into it. Not that you minded, you'd do whatever it took to be with him. But interviews like this one still left you feeling flustered.

"And who's back there on keys?"

Even though they were all your friends, you still felt your face flush as red as the leather skirt you wore for the interview.

"Y/n."

"That's Y/n."

"How are you doing back there, Y/n?"

"Fine," you managed to say, your voice barely above a squeak.

Risking a glance at Harry, you met his gaze. He gave you an encouraging smile, and it bolstered your confidence the slightest bit. Just enough to get you through this brief conversation.

"Just fine? Does Harry make you nervous?"

"Maybe Y/n's the one who's in love with him."

"Or maybe she just wants to fuck him!"

An awkward silence fell over the room after the interviewers' comments and questions. You didn't even know what to say, or how you were expected to respond. Feeling the sympathetic stares from the rest of the band, you took a deep breath and tried not to cry, feeling extremely embarrassed.

Harry's jaw ticked, and you were pretty sure you were the only one who noticed. It was the first time he'd reacted to any of the questions asked today. And you could see it in his face that he was beyond pissed off.

This wasn't what you expected, and clearly Harry hadn't expected it either. But you also didn't want him to storm off and make a big scene. You just wanted to get through today and go home and rest with Buddy and Sweet Pea while you and Harry watched a movie together in bed. That thought kept you grounded, and you tried your hardest to convey to Harry that you were okay without saying anything.

"I, um, I met Harry in the studio in LA," you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

"Really?"

"Yeah, Y/n's a songwriter, but she's generously lent her fabulous keyboarding skills to us this year," Harry said.

"A songwriter?" You felt the interviewer's gaze sweep over you, as if he couldn't quite believe it.

Another tick of Harry's jaw.

"Yeah. But I've enjoyed doing this too. Traveling and performing with Sarah's band," you said, a meek attempt at a joke.

"You must be getting laid a lot on the road as a proper rockstar now. You could probably get whoever you wanted. Well, maybe not Harry, but close to anyone. Are you taking advantage of being on the road with Harry? A new man every night?"

You swallowed thickly, the will not to cry hanging on by a thread. "I—I don't think my brothers be cool with—"

"Shut the fuck up, mate."

Shocked silence filled the room. Clearly, the interviewers didn't expect someone as laid back as Harry to speak up that way. A mix of relief and unease washed over you, unsure of how the rest of the interview was going to pan out now. But you couldn't say you didn't feel relieved that he'd spoken up.

"Harry, we're only—"

"You're being fucking disrespectful to the members of my band, and I'm not fucking putting up with it. Either ask me your fucking questions or let me go. My band and I aren't putting up with your bullshit."

Harry hadn't wanted to come here. He knew the reputation of the interviewer, but it had still somehow made it onto the list of interviews and appearances to promote the album. You'd watched as he grew more and more irritated with each question, but he seemed to take them in stride. But the minute they were directed at you, he'd snapped.

A brief break in the interview ensued, producers suggesting that a couple minutes to regroup would do everyone some good. When everyone was ready to record again, a stilted topic change led Harry to introduce and talk about the Peter Gabriel song they were about to play. The rest of the interview teetered between overly professional and awkward. You could tell by the tense line of Harry's shoulders that he wanted to be anywhere else.

At some point while Harry was talking, Sarah looked over at you. "You okay?" she mouthed, and you nodded subtly, giving her a tiny thumbs up from behind your keyboard setup. Everyone in the band knew about you and Harry. It was hard to hide your relationship when he was by your side whenever you weren't rehearsing a song, and like Mitch and Sarah, he was almost always facing you during rehearsals. It was sweet how he was always pulling you aside during lunch breaks and sitting beside you on the piano bench. One time, when Harry had a film crew film a performance of each song on the album, he asked if the recording of "Fine Line" could just be you and him. Both of you sat on stools with your respective guitars as you performed a stripped-back version of the song, your voice supporting Harry's with a soft harmony occasionally. It was a special moment for the two of you, especially because the song meant so much.

After that, there were no questions about what you meant to each other.

At the end of the interview, Harry was quick to leave, hardly sparing anyone a glance as he stalked out. You stayed back to break down your equipment like you normally did, your hands shaking a little as the desire to comfort Harry took over.

"Go, I got this," Mitch said, coming over to help.

"Really?"

Mitch nodded before bumping his shoulder against yours. "Yeah. We still on for dinner tonight?"

You nodded. "Might have to be at my apartment, though. I don't think he'll be up for going out."

You left soon after that, walking out of the recording room where the interview had taken place. The green room was down the hall, and you entered despite the closed door. "It's me," you said quietly before entering, closing the door behind you with a soft click.

Harry was already out of his blue sweater and green trousers, a pair of brown corduroys on as he shrugged into a yellow t-shirt. He looked up briefly, then looked back down again as he slipped a pair of Vans on.

"How are you feeling?"

"Mad, upset, guilty," he said with a shrug.

"Why on earth do you feel guilty, love?"

"That never should've fucking happened," he seethed, but in Harry fashion, it just meant his voice was clipped and low as he tried to get a handle on his anger. "You didn't deserve that. I should've stood up for you."

"I...You did, H." You didn't want to say that it was okay, because obviously the whole situation wasn't, but you knew he wasn't to blame. The topic of him sticking up for you was a touchy one. "You were put in a tough position, yet you still put those assholes in their place. Let's just go home and forget about all this shit, okay?"

Harry nodded, but he still wouldn't meet your eye, which wasn't going to work for you one bit.

"Hey," you said, tilting his chin up with your fingertips. "Don't beat yourself up. Please? For me?"

For the first time since the midpoint of the interview, Harry grinned. He threaded his fingers through yours before giving you a kiss, his lips soft and familiar against yours. You felt some of the tension leave his body until he eventually pulled away and draped an arm over your shoulders, your hands still connected.

"Never fucking coming to this place again," Harry murmured on the way out, keeping you tucked closely to his side.

"Amen to that."

Harry looked down at you, the anger and frustration finally clearing from his eyes. When it came to you, to your feelings, he was very protective. And you were too, in your own way. You leaned on each other, supported each other, and spent time together without ever being sick of one another. There was no doubt in your mind that he loved you, and even though it might put him in hot water with his management or the interviewer, it meant a lot to you that he stood up for you the way he did. You didn't need him to throw punches or push people up against walls—honestly, that was what your brothers were for—but when it all boiled down, he put you and your feelings first, always and without question.

"I love you," he murmured, his thumb rubbing circles over the top of your hand.

"Even with my crazy brothers?"

"Even with your crazy brothers."

"Hm. Even when Buddy steals your spot on the bed?"

"Even then."

"Even in the mornings when my feet are cold and they brush up against your legs?"

When Harry didn't answer right away, you playfully pinched his side until he laughed and kissed the top of your head. "Babe, I'm gonna love you on your worst day, you know that."

And even though you did, your cheeks became rosy, your whole body tingling with warmth. "Good. Because I love you too. So much."

So much pain had been felt, so much devastation had been endured before you and Harry fell into a perfect rhythm. It wasn't easy, and if you were to look back at the girl who believed she was fucked in the head and incapable and undeserving of love and being loved, you would still think it was all worth it. You would endure it all again if it led you to this moment, if it ended up with Harry cradling your heart of glass in his hands and protecting it as if it was his own.

Hand in hand, you went home and didn't look back at the shattered glass you'd long since left behind.