#hes also gorgeous ??? if you dont think so have you really taken a good look at him ??? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

littlemisslipbalm · 3 years

Text

“you make me so angry sometimes”

idk if this gif makes sense, but i feel like it will if you read the story, it just gives me that vibe.

A one shot I cooked up idk, it’s about Harry and a makeup artist on DWD, it’s quite angsty, idk how that happened, it’s also very long, idk how that happened either, maybe i do a part 2, maybe i don’t idk lmk. Feedback is appreciated, not proofread. REBLOGS help writers tremendously and i love reading whatever you write in the tags its my favorite thing!! Love yall and Merry Christmas!

Word Count: 17.7k | Warnings: ENEMIES to LOVERS! swearing, angst!, some anxiety -like self-doubt, yn being mean to harry kind of a lot, i dont remember, nothing too crazy, Nick Kroll?, lots of conversation

When she pictured herself as a makeup artist in Los Angeles, she hadn’t pictured exactly what she was doing right now.

She had expected doing gorgeous makeup for gorgeous actresses or doing wildly fun stuff like in Euphoria. And because of that she had worked her ass off to get where she was today. She had practiced for hours, worked countless hours for free, and networked to the cows came fucking home.

So why the fuck was she using tattoo-strength concealer to cover up the maybe 60 tattoos some asshole musician turned actor had all over?

Don’t Worry Darling was her first major film to work on so she couldn’t complain. She was happy to simply be there. Well she had been. The first day she had showed up 15 minutes early and had worn her favorite power suit she had. It was dark navy with a white lace long sleeve turtleneck underneath. She hoped to look fun but professional.

Hollywood was all about impressions, especially first ones, even when you’re the makeup artist. She had quickly learned that she was one of six makeup artists. One of them being the friend who had helped her get the job, Angie. Angie was like her surrogate mother in Los Angeles that she had met on her first film job for something much less high profile than Olivia Wilde’s second directing project. Her braided grey hair and fabulous jeans had drawn Y/N right in and they had connected instantly.

Since Y/N was deemed the most inexperienced by the head of the makeup department, she was relegated to easier jobs: assisting the other artists on main characters sometimes, mostly dealing with minor characters touch ups (and full make-up if she was lucky), and the job nobody wanted: tattoo coverage.

Harry Styles was one of the leads for the film and besides his minimal acting, everyone knew he was a worldwide rockstar. With the rock and roll life starting off as a popstar life at the ripe age of 16, he had amassed around 60 tattoos in the past decade. Impressive by her standard normally. She usually counted herself as an appreciator of tattoos and their art, finding them similar to makeup and the self expression that came with both forms. Especially since she had a few of her own, but when she walked into Trailer #6 and saw a good amount of Harry’s tattoos, she wanted to murder every artist he’d ever been to.

She had to make an inventory the first day of all of his visible tattoos when he was just wearing boxers. He had been friendly, trying to make conversation, but as the time wore on, they both grew tired and silent. She had to write down the location and a description of every tattoo and as he took off everything but boxers she grew more and more annoyed with his random and dumb tattoos. Some of them were amazing, the eagle, the anchor, the butterfly, and the ferns were probably her favorites. But some of them, she couldn't hold back her rolling eyes and annoyed expressions. The “Big” on his right big toe, a miniscule lock, almost everything on his inner left arm (the packers logo, Pingu, etc.)

She traces at the rose and the ship and then flips his arm out to reveal his inner arm to her gaze. “That is a big fucking bee.”

He snickers, “Y’like it?”

She ignores his question. “For god’s sake, someone is needle happy,” she said as she examined his left arm, taking note of every permanent drawing.

He shrugs his right shoulder, uninhibited by her prodding. “Dunno, beginning to regret some of them.”

“I would hope,” she mutters, scribbling on her paper the various ones she had just seen on his arm. Next was his ribcage ones.

He scoffs, “Oi, it’s not like you haven’t got any.”

“How would you-” She looks at him wide eyed.

“Right…” he takes his right hand and pushes her hair past her ear to reveal three little red line butterflies following the curve of her ear, “There. At least.”

She huffs and knocks his hand away from her. Her hair falling back into its place.

“Maybe some located in a few more intimate places I’m guessing from the red rushing to your cheeks right now.”

“Can you just let me do my job,” she says, not giving in to his teasing or sparing him a glance as she feels his intense gaze on her face. She was studying his left rib cage where a few cool tattoos happened to be.

“You at least have some taste or persuasive artists because not all of these are shit,” she speaks again after just the sound of her pen on the paper filled the trailer.

“Gee, thanks,” he laughs unamused and rolls his large green eyes.

She thought he had some of the biggest eyes she’d ever seen. But she also knew to keep that to herself because he’d either take it as a compliment and think she was noticing him too much or he’d take it as a massive insult and get her fired.

His right hand taps at his thigh, tapping a rhythm she didn’t care to pay any attention too. She just wanted to finish the stupid inventory of the stupid tattoos on this stupid man.

“Take those off,” she says to Harry, looking back at her clipboard again, filling up quickly with her notes.

He stands there, staring at her stubbornly. He was entirely bored with this exercise, especially since his company was some of the worst he’s ever had. She spares him a glance when she doesn’t notice any slipping off of the colorful sweatpants he’s wearing.

She arches a brow at him, her pen tapping impatiently against the paper. “Go on. Can’t imagine you want this to go on longer than it already has.”

He rolls his eyes again, slipping his thumbs into the waistline of the pants and tugging down. Simultaneously, he toes off the dirty vans he seemed to wear everywhere. The fabric pools easily and he steps out of them and discards them on the couch behind him. He’s actually wearing black briefs. She chooses not to notice anything further than that.

“Socks...can stay on,” She tries to say as he begins to peel one off. He stops midway and nods.

She flings his shirt to him, not needing to see his naked torso for another moment, “I know you’ve got some feet and ankle tats, but I also know that you won’t be wearing anything that will expose them. Thank your lucky stars that I don’t have to makeup your feet.”

He catches the shirt easily and slips his arms inside before tugging it quickly over his head and over his expansive shoulders. The ferns disappear out of sight.

“Well then we’re almost done then. Just got the knee ones -”

“And the tiger. That’s gonna be one son of a bitch,” she sighs and examines his legs, not bothering to crouch.

“What the actual fuck dude?” Her tone is exasperate and like she would rather be anywhere else than here.

“I’m sorry?” He sputters, hands on his hips and eyes bewildered.

“Yes. No. Oui. Non. Who are you?” She rubs at her eyes and shakers her head.

“S’a little rude.”

“You’re right,” she semi-rushes out at his serious tone, ready to apologize. When a grin spreads over his face and he chuckles under his breath she really wants to smack him upside the head. He was exhausting. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thought it was funny at the time. Kind of think it’s even funnier now since it’s got you all mad.” He leans over her shoulder to look at her notes and when she glances at him unhappily he just looks smug.

“Alright,” she finishes the scribble of a description and clicks the end of her pen, “All done. You can get dressed. I’ll see you bright and early for tattoo makeup. It’s gonna take about an hour to do all this, just so you can mentally prepare for that.”

“It was nice to meet you,” he attempts at a friendly and professional farewell. “See you tomorrow…” he trails off as he watches her turn on her heel and walk out of the trailer door swiftly. The door swung shut and bounced a little bit in her wake.

Harry sighed and adjusted his clothes and hair in the mirror. After a moment he shakes his head, an even louder sigh escaping him.

“Good morning!” She greets happily, walking into the trailer without a knock. Well-rested and happy at least that she doesn’t have to just inspect a body, she looks around the trailer.

She realizes no one is there and she’s taken aback. First of all, if Harry wasn’t there then he shouldn’t have left his trailer unlocked. And second, he was fucking late, the fucking twat.

She grumbles, setting her coffee on the countertop. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “In through the nose, out through the mouth” she mutters. She knew this was a big opportunity and having a big star like Harry in her corner could make her career. She needed them to get off on a better foot today.

“Good form, I’d say relax the shoulders a little more,” the door swings open carrying the California twang-British accent that she would soon become all too accustomed to.

Harry points at her shoulders and narrows his eyes regarding her in the trailer. She offers a strained smile through the mirror and Harry sets down his personal things on the couch.

“Alright, well let’s get started shall we,” she smiles and turns to him, gesturing to the swivel chair next to her.

He nods, a twinkle in his eye as he regards her. He’s unsure of the tone and attitude she’s giving him today. She had been feisty yesterday, cordial at times, but mostly biting and witty. He had liked it. It had made the whole ordeal bearable whereas now she seemed to be laying it on a little thick.

“Just your hands and neck today,” she says, pulling out the makeup materials needed and a checklist of the tattoos she needed to make sure were invisible.

“Should only take..a little under an hour today. Just gonna remind you now though, other days we won’t be so lucky.”

Harry chuckles under his breath and rolls his head around his shoulders before sitting in the chair. “Were you tired yesterday?” He inquires.

“Why do you ask?” She throws a glance over her shoulder at Harry. He’s begun slipping off his sweatshirt and yawns as he does it.

“You seem different from yesterday and I’m just wondering which one is the real you.”

She continues working about the room and rolls her eyes to herself, “I’m always the real me. I come no other way, but this morning I woke up and thought ‘this is the job you’ve fucking wanted for ages, so stop being such a bitch so you don’t get fired, you prick’.” She pauses and turns to face Harry. “The ‘you prick’ was directed at me, that was still part of my thought,” she adds.

He throws his head back and laughs. Then he nods, still laughing lightly, “I get that. Sometimes I’m just so in my head and yesterday I was just so fuckin’ bored. Sorry if I got on your nerves.”

“Don’t mention it.” She waves her hand at him nonchalantly.

Then she moves to inspect his hands and notices the lack of rings, unlike yesterday when she had to make him take them off.

“You have amazing cuticles,” she notices and mentions without any pretences. Harry mutters his thanks, pursing his lips as he watches her work.

She stops her inspection and places the clipboard on the countertop in front of them.

“Could you take your necklaces off? I need to cover up half of the swallows and the years, for when you unbutton your shirt a bit.”

He wets his lips and nods, hands going to fiddle with the clasps behind his neck. He slips off one of the necklaces with ease, a yellow eye beaded necklace that he lays gently on the countertop next to the clipboard. Then he takes his cross and pulls it over his head, no clasp needed.

“Could I put some music on?” Harry asks after five minutes of Y/N working in silence and Harry only being able to stare either at himself, her work, or nowhere.

“I can,” she stops her work for a moment, “Can’t have you messing up the makeup before it sets. Otherwise I’d have to kill you.” Harry can’t be sure if she’s joking or not. Therefore, he was intent on not messing it up.

“Any requests?” She stands at the counter now, instead of seated on a stool working on Harry's left hand.

He shrugs, like he hasn’t got the faintest idea about good music. She refrains from rolling her eyes once again because she feels herself in a test. She wets her lips, sifting through different things in her Spotify and then lands on her playlist titled “it’s your song” named after Elton John’s song. It had some other musicians, a mix of Queen, Bowie, and more and she was sure she would pass the test.

She presses shuffle and She’s Always A Woman by Billy Joel begins to play over her laptop. Harry nods pleased and she wants to shake her head at him.

She can’t hold back the scoff though after a moment of going back to finishing his hand.

“What?” His British accent thickens with his annoyance growing.

“Nothing,” she chirps, intently putting the final touches on his wrist.

“Seriously. What?”

She stands and sets down the makeup. “Can you unbutton your shirt?” She made a note to herself that from now on she’d have to have him take his shirt off before setting to work because if his hands got messed up she’d have to start over. Thankfully he was already wearing a button up this morning.

He stares at her, offering no movement, just inquisitively waiting for her to respond to his original question.

She shuts her eyes, taking another deep breath and then bites at her lower lip. “It’s just...you’re so easy to read.” She fears adding anything else and moves towards him with the makeup hoping to encourage him to unbutton his shirt.

His right hand deftly pulls at the buttons as he regards her. His eyes are intent on her, she can see him clearly calculating her. Her green paisley button up tucked up into the back of her bra leaving a splay of her stomach. The semi-balloon sleeves cinched at the wrists leading to her slightly ringed hands. The oversized blue jeans that have no holes, just a tiny patch right next to the left pocket. The frayed ends of the pants laying over her rather pristine white old skool vans.

The Boxer fades in as she waits for him to finish the unbuttoning of the shirt. He’s still staring at her.

“Am I?” He finally inquires, voice pitched higher like he doesn’t believe her.

She gives him a serious stare and leans over him and adjusts the collar of his shirt. She adds paper towels to avoid makeup on his clothes.

“Yes!” She laughs, “And you don’t even think so, which is like...of course.”

He hums, tilting his head back as she sets to work on covering up the swallows. He wiggles his hands that now both rest on the arm chairs.

“I don’t see it.”

“Of course you don’t,” she glances at his face, their eyes meeting for a moment. “You’re Harry Styles. Everyone is in love with this image you created for yourself and it has just enough of your true self that people feel like they really know you, but you also maintain the illusion. So you think you’re this mysteriously amazing, not like the rest guy, but you are just like the rest of them. Obsessed with yourself and rich so you’re deemed eccentric rather than crazy for all the extravagant shit you do. So when you want me to play music and don’t offer any suggestions I know exactly what music I need to play for you to like me.”

“I feel like that last part says more about you than it does me,” he quirks a brow at her, straining his neck to look at her face as she continues to work.

She flushes, his response both better and worse than she expected. She had gotten a little carried away in her response and she had no idea why. She truly wasn’t one to go off on people so easily and especially not with someone she hardly knew, but something about Harry had her on edge. She was just thankful he hadn’t gotten mad at her response, instead he took it in stride. Further proving her point that he was extremely smart and did things purposefully and she saw right through it all.

She grumbles, “It says that all anyone has to do to get close to you is understand the smallest bit about you and you’ll let them in.”

“That is just so completely wrong, Y/N, I hate to break it to you.” It’s Harry rolling his eyes now, unable to move much more of his body as she continues painting on the concealer to remove his tattoos for the movie.

“Fine. Enlighten me on what I got wrong.”

Their argument had all but drowned out their music. They both did love this music and ironically if they would just shut their mouths, they’d probably like each other a lot more.

“Might as well,” he sighs. “First of all, my image is authentic and of course I don’t want to give myself all away. I enjoy my privacy and for everyone to truly know me I’d have to give that up. Which I’m not keen on. So, I regret to inform you but I am the same guy everyone is “in love with”. Second, I know I am a little self-involved, how else would I get here if I wasn’t constantly taking inventory of myself and reevaluating who I am. As a musician, I want to give as much of myself as possible or else it just feels inauthentic. And the extravagant thing, I can’t help that I like nice things and my job has allowed me to afford those things.”

He stops to take a deep breath and she’s working in stunned silence, in disbelief that Harry is even telling her any of this or that he’s spoken that much and so quickly. Wasn’t he notorious for speaking slowly with barely even a sentence worth of actual information. He sounds tired and frustrated, but also, surprisingly, sincere.

He continues, “The music thing. Maybe it was a test, but still it doesn’t mean I give everyone a mile when they say their favorite musicians match up with mine or something. I note that they either did their homework or might be an interesting person to get to know.”

“So which am I?” She widens her eyes.

“Obviously the second even if you’re also making it painfully clear that you don’t like me.”

“You’re smarter than I thought, Harry. I’ll give you that,” she smirks slyly, finishing up the bird coverage now.

He laughs. “Thanks,” he drawls out.

“And I admit that maybe you aren’t as easy to read as I made out, but I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree about the whole being your authentic self. I just don’t buy it. I can see your mind working constantly, you’re not one to just let yourself be free in public. And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, I’m just saying, you shouldn’t pretend like that’s not what you’re doing.”

Her final thought leaves Harry silent. She pays no attention to his silence or at least she’s actively ignoring it. Instead she tunes back into the music that had gotten them back onto the wrong foot. This was going to be a long few months.

When she’s satisfied with her work, she has them sit there for thirty minutes to give it all time to set before Harry is off to hair and other makeup. They sit there listening to music. Neither of them have spoken again, except instructions from her and Harry’s hums of approval of songs.

Harry stands up after thirty minutes as she stays behind to pack up some items. Just as he’s about to step out of the door, he turns and calls her name.

“For the record, I don’t think you’re giving me a fair shot. You said yourself that you’re different every day. That every version of you, is you. So I hope you’ll give me the same allowance, every version of me is me. In this trailer, in my music videos, on tv, in interviews, in my free time. It’s all truly me.”

She bites her inner cheek as he ducks his head and exits the trailer, not allowing her any response.

“You’re late!”

“Meeting ran over with Nick and Olivia. Sorry,” Harry says as he begins to undress.

It’s the first day she has to cover all of his tattoos. It was going to take forever by all accounts. It had been two weeks since shooting had begun and she had gotten the simple hands and neck down to 45 minutes so she could only dread what his entire body would take.

“It’s fine,” she grumbles, knowing there wasn’t really anything else she could say about him coming late from a meeting with the director and producer.

Over the last two weeks, they hadn’t grown any fonder of one another. Not at all. They at least had gotten into a system though and she was grateful for that at least.

They showed up, Harry got in his chair, she set up the music, and they got to work. Harry would practice lines on some days and he’d tell her that before she turned on the music so there were no interruptions. Sometimes they talked about stuff on set or music or she’d give Harry his line when he was trying to be off script and forgot one. She wouldn’t classify it as pleasant, but they weren’t at each other throats like they were originally.

Trailer 6 had gotten a little homier as the weeks went by, too. Harry began leaving some of his stuff there and he started putting up silly drawings he would make while on set or polaroids people had taken with him while he was there. He tacked up napkins of restaurants that catered the set and wrote funny jokes and quotes on post it notes. His personal assistants sometimes brought in snacks while Y/N was still working and Harry always offered her some. They were usually healthy, but sometimes she’d eat some. Jeff, his manager, had also stopped by on occasion during his tattoo touch-ups that had become a thing after shooting days had grown longer.

On first meeting, Jeff had said, “Y/N? Harry mentioned you.”

She had turned to Harry with an arched brow and he had shrugged. When she looked back at Jeff she didn’t see Harry give Jeff one of the deadliest looks he could muster. She had grimaced and said “Well we spend enough time together for him to know my name. So thank god for that at least.”

They had all laughed and she had gotten back to work on Harry’s wrist.

Today, she needed Harry in his shorts. It was the first day of shooting where his character would be only in his boxers so she had to cover up all his visible tattoos. Olivia had told the makeup department they actually had to cover up his feet tattoos as well. She wanted him sockless in the scene and Y/N had groaned immediately when she made it to the trailer and Harry wasn’t already there.

“But please, for the sake of my job, strip, dude.” She says, arms crossed over her chest and leaning against the counter as she watched Harry set his things down. Her soft green striped cardigan is open, exposing the white tank top sitting underneath. Her bright green shorts hang loose on her, cinched at the waist and folded over once. Her white high top nike’s tap impatiently on the floor, waiting for Harry to get moving.

He nodded, truly feeling sorry for his tardiness, knowing today was a long day. He was anxious and tired. Acting was a different experience to music and he just was really trying his best.

As he began to take off his shirt, he laughed. His arms pulled the shirt over his head and when it popped out from beneath it, he repeated, “Strip, dude,” attempting to mimic her American accent.

He had practiced his American accent in front of her while running lines, but it had a 50’s drawl to it. His acting coach had been drilling him for weeks before shooting and he still liked to practice. The accent he had just down was far off from that and far off from hers too.

“Do not,” she warned.

“What?” He asks innocently and flutters his eyelashes.

She knows his game by now and she knows she should just ignore him. She knows this after fourteen days. She knows this after hours with him. She knows this, but then she’s opening her mouth and playing into his teases.

“Sorry, what’s a word you would know? Mate?” She tries for a British accent with the last word, knowing she can’t win this.

Harry snickers and scratches at his nose with his index finger before starting on taking off his pants. “You’re so Californian.”

“Thank you,” she chirps, moving to sit beside him now that he had settled.

“I like your shorts,” he muses, crossing his legs, likely a little cold.

She glances down at her cotton shorts that showed more of her thighs when she sat for a moment before returning her gaze to his left arm. The longest task of the day was this damn arm.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, “Wanted to be comfortable today. Knew it was gonna be long.”

A smile bubbles onto his face, his pink lips parting to reveal his shiny white teeth behind them. “So true.”

The music is low today. She had chosen Joni Mitchel’s Blue album for the first pick of the day. She had quickly learned Harry preferred listening to albums in order. It tended to make him less jumpy when the same artist came on multiple times like an album. So when she tried to play just an album one day, she found him more cooperative and less irritable.

After thirty minutes of work, she can’t stop noticing how shivery Harry is. It was late October in LA, so it was still warm, but admittedly the mornings could be a little chilly. His shivering was concerning for many reasons. Mainly he was messing up her work and concentration, but she also didn’t want him to get sick or something.

“Do you want me to see if they have a blanket and slippers or something? You look like you’re turning blue.”

Harry turns his attention to her. He had been reading over the script for today again. “That’d be great. I can call…” He trails off trying to think of the name of one of his assistants, but apparently he’s too scatterbrained for it. She assumed it was the hypothermia traveling to his brain already.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll walkie someone.” She says as she grabs the walkie talkie, flicking to the personal assistants channel.

“Hey,” she chirps happily. Harry noted how she talked to other people. So sweet, yet sincere. With him, it was serious and sincere but more biting, callous at times. Less so lately, but she definitely was sharper with him. He didn’t know if it even bothered him anymore. She was engaging if nothing else.

“Is someone free to bring two blankets and men’s slippers over to Trailer 6? I’ve got a naked Jack and I don’t want him freezing before I’m done covering up his tattoos.” She takes her finger off the talking button and glances sideways at him, “Who knows, maybe that would improve his acting. Y’know on second-thought-”

“Alright, alright,” Harry tries to grab for the walkie talkie, but she turns from him holding a finger up signalling him to wait as she listens for a response.

Someone says a simple “On it” and she turns off the walkie talkie and gets back to work.

“I took my finger off the speaker before I said the thing about your acting. Relax, Harry.” She says when he’s still glaring at her. “Just love to see you squirm.”

He shakes out his short chestnut hair, some of it falling over his forehead. Instinctively, she reaches up without even looking and smooths it back. Like she was tucking her own hair out of her eyes, but instead it was Harry’s. She decided to say nothing and was relieved when Harry didn’t say anything either.

She finishes his forearm and moves to his outer upper arm. The rose holds her attention when the PA knocks on the door and she has to race to get it. Nothing could stop her from moving on this work. It was already an hour in and she wanted to scream.

She swings open the door and she wants to die. It was Autumn. Her least favorite PA, of course. She was insufferable and obsessed with Harry. Which was not why Y/N found Autumn insufferable. There were so many more reasons. So many. But that particular character flaw didn’t help her case either. Y/N tried to just take the blankets and slippers from Autumn, but the woman insisted that she come in.

“I’ve got it,” Y/N says.

“No, don’t want you to get makeup on anything,” Autumn’s saccharine voice grinds at her ears and she contemplates cutting them off.

Harry sat in his chair, legs crossed, nodding along to the music, his script discarded on the counter in front of him.

“Hi Harry!” Autumn practically yells, walking right up to him.

Y/N takes a deep breath at the door, letting it swing shut. She bites her lower lip as an attempt to bite her tongue as she walks back to her set-up. The set-up Autumn was conveniently blocking.

“Hello, Autumn,” Harry says kindly, making eye contact with her. “How��re you today?”

“So great! So great! Thanks for asking. How are you?” She points a finger at him like she might poke him and Harry squirms away from her a bit. She, of course, doesn’t notice this.

“Well, thanks.” His eyes flicker to Y/N, who is standing behind Autumn, hands on her hips and attempting not to tap her foot. His tone is clearly dismissive, but Autumn must ignore it. Y/N knows Autumn isn’t as helpless as she tries to come off.

Autumn asks, “Where do you want these?”, gesturing to the two blankets and slippers stacked on top.

“Just on the counter is fine, thanks,” Harry says.

Autumn does as he says and then stands there with baited breath. Y/N’s not sure what she’s expecting. For Harry to ask for her hand in marriage or something? But he just glances between the two women. His own foot begins wiggling in impatience.

“Busy day,” He attempts at dismissing her once again - with kindness.

“Oh my gosh, totally!” Autumn gushes, starting to go off on all of the tasks she has to do. She stands so close to Harry, Y/N genuinely thinks she’s going to sit in his lap. Y/N stares up to the ceiling, begging god or whoever to end her misery right there and then.

Harry sees Y/N’s expression and tries to maintain the neutral expression he’s had for the entirely too long interaction. A smile threatens at his rosey lips that had chapped from the morning air.

“Right, well,” he cuts off Autumn, “Y/N needs to get back to tattoo coverage, I think. So...have a nice day.”

Autumn’s eyes widen like she forgot that there was anyone else in the room and steps back from Harry. Y/N nods, a grimace clear on her face. Autumn gives her the same small she used to get from the popular girls in high school when she happened to be talking to their cool guy friend that they wanted to be more than friends with. Sickeningly sweet and completely fake. She could see the contempt in Autumn’s eyes that swirled just beneath the surface of her perfectly outlined green-ish eyes.

“Okay! You too, Harry!” She begins walking to the door and Y/N takes her seat again, closing her eyes and counting to ten. “And Y/N,” Autumn adds as an afterthought.

“Oh my fucking god,” Y/N sighs, her hands going to rub over her face and through her hair. “That was exhausting. Jesus Christ.”

“What? She’s nice. Maybe a little clueless,” Harry counters. “But she was so nice,” he confirms again, seemingly trying to convince himself of it as well.

She grabs the slippers and slips them on the ground so Harry can put them on easily. Then one of the blankets that she drapes over Harry’s bottom half. He smiles at the gesture, a ‘thank you’ said in a whisper.

“Please, she knows what she’s doing,” Y/N scoffs, “And she’s obsessed with you!” She grabs the concealer to get back to work, “She was all over you and never took her eyes off of your body. It was like she wanted to touch you or something. It was icky.”

“You touch me,” Harry adds cheekily, adjusting beneath the warm blanket.

She laughs, a smile gracing her lips as she gives Harry a look. He was clever.

“It’s my job to touch you, Harry.”

Harry had really tried to not laugh, but it was just so funny. They both snicker, their eyes meeting for a moment longer than usual.

“Speaking of my job,” she adds after controlling her laughter, “Does she not realize just how long it takes to cover all of your bloody tattoos with this shit to make it look like you’re a pristine skinned 50’s psycho killer?”

She finishes the rose coverup and moves to the ship. Harry nods solemnly.

“It’s true...And it doesn’t help that you’re terrible at it, so it takes a thousand years longer than it should.” He adds, laughter overtaking his serious tone at the end.

“Oh my god!” She shrieks in delight, trying not to mess up her work, “That is so rude! I messed up one time - mostly because of you, by the way. And give me a break, this is so not what I thought I’d be doing as a makeup artist for movies.”

He nods again, muttering “Fair, fair.”

They grow silent, enjoying Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, the album that she had queued after Joni’s.

“The body thing, I just learned to ignore it, I think.” Harry mutters, eventually, but it’s thoughtless, like he’s not revealing anything about himself with the statement. But it kind of shocks her. Her eyes widen and she stops her work to stare at his face.

“Harry,” she waits till his eyes meet hers, “That’s, like, not normal. Are you serious?”

“I mean, I’m very comfortable with my body, like I haven’t minded the last 45 minutes of sitting practically nude in front of you. And I have plenty of revealing photos out in the world. I just don’t notice staring anymore, it’s not, I don’t think it’s what you’re thinking,” he tries to reassure her. His eyes are intent on hers, full of seriousness that hadn’t been there a few moments ago.

“It’s one thing to be comfortable in your skin and another to be desensitized to objectification,” she insists.

He nods. “I know. Thank you. I would let you know if what she had done had bothered me, so don’t worry. I felt completely safe the whole time.”

“Good,” she nods back and concentrates again. “Good,” she repeats once more under her breath. There had been way too many distractions already today and she wasn’t even done with his arm yet.

As she continues to work up his arm, Harry sings along to some of the songs on Elton’s album. He happily taps his feet to the different beats, now safely tucked in soft fluffy slippers. She would never admit just how amazing it is to be in the same room as Harry’s singing. It was truly special to be less than a foot from him and hear him sing just under the unique voice of Elton - who was someone he actually knew, which was equally as cool.

He hit every note and knew every word. She was impressed. How could she not be when a literal rockstar sat before her? This was the first time she was truly starstruck by her charge, Mr. Harry Styles.

By two hours, they had moved onto an album by Dolly Parton and they were both singing. They strangely had no fights today, maybe some snarky comments from both of them, but no outright mean-spirited words were exchanged.

She stood in front of Harry, finishing up the swallows. She had finished both arms and the birds, all she had left was moving down his body. Up next, the butterfly.

“I love this tattoo,” she mumbles, twisting Harry’s standing body to face her and taking her seat again. This left her eye to eye with the butterfly on his stomach.

He makes a surprised face and raises his recently plucked eyebrow at his counterpart. “Oh really?”

“Don’t act so surprised. I told you day one that not all of them are rubbish and honestly they’re all pretty cool. I just was so annoyed that I had gotten tattoo coverage as my job and then I had to go and index them all.” She flicks her eyes up to his sculpted face and sees he’s watching her work. “Plus, I have some butterflies of my own, remember?” She grins.

“Yeah,” he ponders her words, “I don’t think that’d put me in a good mood either.”

He pauses again and she continues to work silently.

“So what’s your excuse for the second day then?”

“You provoked me,” she doesn’t spare him a glance, shrugging like it was the simplest answer in the world.

“Pardon?”

“Let’s not go down this road again, Harry.” She sighs, smoothing over the freshly covered butterfly tattoo. His sternum looked so naked, it was unnerving. Now the ferns.

Harry involuntarily shivered when her fingers traced over the ferns lightly, taking note of the expanse of skin she’d have to cover.

“You’re right,” he agrees, “But agree to disagree on the provocation.”

“Sure,” she says curtly, focusing on his skin and her job.

The expanse of skin that the ferns inhabited was slightly fleshy and especially soft. It bordered where his boxers began and she ignored that part of his body completely. It was of no importance to her and she really had no issue blocking it from her vision, even when it was right in front of her. She finishes one fern with Harry jumping only twice from her cold hands. He couldn’t put his robe on until the makeup had all set for half an hour so he’d have to be cold for possibly another hour still.

She traces the fern that is still visible and Harry shivers. She instinctively shushes him softly and his body quiets. As she works, her hair splays around her shoulders and Harry looks down at her working and doesn’t realize what his hand is doing until it’s too late. His right hand runs over her hair, smoothing it out of her face. It was rarely ever down, so it must have been the novelty of it.

“Sorry, I-” he chokes out when he jerks his hand back.

She sits back, slightly taken aback. Her body flushes just from their positioning and what a hair caress would mean normally in this position, but she’s a professional and she shakes it off.

“It’s fine. We’re even.” She assures him, breaking eye contact with his own wide eyes. “Seems like we’re both hair touchers.”

“It’s just so soothing,” Harry muses. “I think it’s human instinct to touch other people’s hair since it’s so enjoyable for yourself.”

“Possibly,” her voice raises, his thought was definitely plausible. Or maybe they were just two touch starved people who were very much in each other’s personal space 24/7.

At the two and a half hour marker, she gets a walkie message from Olivia’s assistant asking when they’d be done. She had just finished the tiger tattoo, which had been surprisingly easy. It took a while, but Harry didn’t shiver once and neither of them pet each other’s hair.

“Probably 40 minutes, sorry. He has a lot of tattoos and the makeup needs to set.” She says seriously and gets back to work, barely regarding the response of “Yeah it’s fine, just wanted an estimate”.

“Jesus,” Harry moans as she covers up his knee tattoos.

She groans in veiled disgust, “Did I just hit a secret erogenous zone? Is that why you have ‘oui’ there, you creep?” There’s a teasing tone behind the nickname she uses.

Harry laughs and runs his hand over his face, pulling at his jaw and lower lip. His jaw is so sharp, she watches him adjust it. “No, no. I’m just so goddamn tired of this.”

“And it’s not your fault,” he adds, feeling bad immediately after he said it. “It’s actually been nice today, but I’m feeling antsy, like I need to move. I don’t like to sit still.”

“I know,” she says under her breath. She simply nods in agreement.

Finally, the tattoos are all covered up and set. They had talked about George Michael when she got to his ankle tattoos that she hadn’t seen before and they laugh about the tattoos and chat a bit more. She helps him slip on his robe that he keeps in his closet in the trailer and then follows him out of it. They had decided they were hungry and he had been pushed back an hour since he had taken so long, so he had a free half-hour.

As they walked to craft services, they talked about actual things besides work. She was pleasantly surprised by what Harry talked about. It was more than music or the movie. It was the tv show he was currently obsessed with and how he hated LA’s traffic the most out of all of his dislikes for the city. She couldn’t help but grin at his Los Angeles slander. She loved this side of him.

Breakfast together after finishing his tattoo coverage became their regular thing. He would come into the trailer, racing from his morning meeting accompanied with tea for two, they’d get his tattoos covered as quickly as possible, and then they’d eat together.

They’d save their “in-depth” chats for breakfast. In early November, he joked about No Nut November and insisted he really wouldn’t have a problem with it - which had made her laugh. They worried together over the U.S. presidential election and meditated together in his trailer to Fleetwood Mac.

Around late November, Harry had requested that Y/N just do his face makeup as well, just to simplify his life a little more and the department had agreed easily. She had to spend extra time on set getting lectured on how to properly do Harry’s makeup, but after two days she stopped getting notes about it. She was so extremely proud and thankful to Harry for doing that.

All he said was: “I mean, you’re extremely talented so I’m not scared of you fucking up my face. Plus, it does make my life easier. Two birds with one stone.”

In late November, he told her about his favorite holiday drinks at Starbucks and what he was getting his mother for Christmas.

When the Vogue cover came out, he laughed over that woman who responded to his cover saying the world needed to bring back manly men. He joked that he was going to really push that from now on, that he was a manly man, and he would sputter with laughter every time he tried to say it with a straight face.

He hand delivered her a special ‘Treat People With Kindness’ sweatshirt that he only had for the cast and crew of the film. Most everyone got them from a PA, but Harry decided since you saw him first in the morning, why not.

He told her about him winning Hitmaker of the Year from Variety when he had left the award sitting in Trailer 6 and about how weird it was to film acceptance speeches in an empty room. His smile had lit up the entire set that day and the day he did his interview on set. He was so smiley she had to bump him with her elbow because he wouldn’t stop smiling at her and it was unnerving.

“Stop that,” She muttered.

“Stop what?” He smiles wider.

“That!” She squeaked, her head shaking as she ducked it to regard his anchor tattoo. “You’re smiling too much.”

“Oh no,” he says sarcastically, “God forbid I be happy.”

“It’s not that,” she bumps his thigh with her elbow, trying to keep her own smile off her face, “Your face is just so intense when you smile. Feels like you’re gonna burn a hole through me.”

He laughs, completely unconvinced, “You just don’t want me to be happy is what I’m hearing.”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever, dude.”

She saw he was serious about the ‘manly men’ references when the Variety photos came out and everyone and their mom posted the pictures with some variation of that comment as their caption.

She still found that she rolled her eyes at some of the things Harry did, but she genuinely counted him as a friend by the time December had rolled around.

Over three hours, almost always completely alone, doing work for a job you both care deeply about can really make or break a relationship. And that first full-body coverage day had made them stronger together. After that, Harry and her would banter with one another, but there was never anything intentionally cruel. Just friends giving each other shit sometimes. Harry had been right, he had changed her mind about him. And she had realized that that was who Harry was. He was a deliverer. If you didn’t like him at first, he would try and try again until you did, but he did it in a way that wasn’t weasley or anything. It was terribly genuine and she saw it in every relationship he had on set.

On several occasions she had witnessed his friendship with Nick Kroll. A man she had regarded with dislike before the film. She had quickly realized that dislike was misplaced, but she maintained that it was just because she hated adult cartoons - citing that she literally refused to be friends with any person who willingly watched the Simpsons, Family Guy, and/or American Dad and all of those similar shows.

Nick was far nicer and less weird than she had realized. So she quickly shot her friend from high school an apology text for all the Nick Kroll slander she had spouted back in the day. Her friend had rejoiced but also said how jealous she was that Y/N got to see him regularly on set.

Nick and Harry got along great. Harry generally got along better with older people, she noticed when she was introduced to his friends on the somewhat frequent occasion. Trailer 6 was where Y/N saw most of these reactions take place. She would be introduced in the first minute and then she would smile politely and get back to the work of covering up Harry’s numerous tattoos.

Harry would say something simple and Nick, the literal famous comedian, would laugh. In the beginning she’d raise a brow, confused because it truly wasn’t that funny, but as Harry’s friend now, she kept her mouth shut.

Nick would come and sit on the couch while she’d work and eventually all three of them would chat. Sometimes she would get up to go to the bathroom during those morning chats and she would look in the mirror and think to herself “How are you casually talking to these two men right now” and then she’d think “Because you are a boss ass bitch, you got this” and go back out there with a smile on her face.

“Y/N, what are you doing tonight?” Nick asked on the first Friday morning of December.

She looks up from Harry’s cross tattoo that was half covered. Harry was reading, a book casually propped in his right hand and glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. He glanced at the other two in the room. Nick had been getting some work done before he had spoken.

“No plans,” she states simply before getting back to work. It wasn’t full body today, but it was arms and torso, so kind of a lot still.

“You should come over for dinner at my place with Harry,” Nick smiles kindly. His scruff was really coming in today. “To celebrate us almost wrapping the first half of the movie.”

Harry had thankfully freshly shaved before he sat down. It was her least favorite part of her new job. Whenever he came in for touch ups and she had to shave his afternoon shadow. She was terrified she’d cut him and never live it down from her department or Harry. She had no idea which would be worse.

“My wife will be there too, of course,” he adds, hoping to entice her to say yes.

Harry glances between Y/N and Nick again before focusing on his book again.

She purses her lips, finishing Harry’s hand and moving onto the anchor tattoo. “Yeah, I mean, I don’t know why I’d say no. As long as I’m not intruding on the throuple,” she grins up at Harry.

He stares at her with his big green eyes, slightly obscured behind his prescription glasses. He raises his brows and wiggles them a little bit, teasingly.

Nick laughs and slyly winks at Harry through the mirror. Y/N none the wiser as she removes all traces of Harry’s tattoos.

“Great!” He claps his hands and stands up. “We’ll talk or I’ll make sure Harry gets you the info or something. I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. My wife’s been wanting to meet you,” he smiles again and walks out of the trailer.

She tilts her head at the last part. He talked about her to his wife. Did he really count her as that close of a friend? She was just a makeup artist and he was a producer… She glances at Harry and he gives away nothing. His jaw looks extra prominent and she knows it’s because he’s clenching it. He did that when he was focused or angry, remembering it bulging on the first day they met and how clenched it had been then.

“Unclench your jaw,” she mutters, “It’s not good for you.”

Harry hums and unclenches it.

He stretches his neck by rolling his head around his shoulders and she glances at the movement. His skin is still beautifully sun-kissed and his pores look so soft, only his moles change the texture of his skin. She loves his moles though, they make him especially unique in her eyes. Not that he needed anything else to set him apart from the crowd. Still, she loved them. His collarbone is prominent as he sits there shirtless and she wishes she could reach out and brush at it. But she gets back to work, knowing the only time she’s gonna be brushing near that part of him is when she’s covering dates in those dips behind his collarbones.

“Y’know, I could just drive you to Nick’s tonight,” Harry says, putting his book down and taking off his glasses. He rubs at his eye with his free hand.

“You’re blind and British, how do I know you can even drive yourself?” She asks sillily, pointing to his glasses.

He shakes his head, “I’m serious, Y/N. Aren’t you staying in the same area as me?”

He asks because they had relocated to Palm Springs a little while ago and everyone had gotten rentals and it was hard to remember where everyone was holed up when they weren’t on set.

“Yeah, think so. But you don’t need to pick me up. I have a car.”

“Nonsense. I’ve been to his place before, don’t want you to have to deal with directions, that’s just silly.”

“I guess...” she resigns relatively easily. She had never hung out with Harry off the set or Nick for that matter. It felt surreal, but she knew the right answer was usually just say yes in these situations. So that’s what she says. “Yes, that’d be great, thank you,” she confirms and watches as Harry’s eyes glimmer softly before turning back to his book. A triumphant soft smirk rests on his face.

The words die out between the two of them as she works on. He hums along to the music and continues reading his book. When she’s done with his tattoo coverage and his face makeup, she sends him off to hair and the rest of his day. He gives a flirty wink as he walks out the door and she rolls her eyes in response. She tidies up her kit and then goes to do some other makeup work.

When she wasn’t working with Harry, she was assigned to some of the minor characters and doing their makeup. They were always her second concern, especially now that she did Harry’s makeup as well as his tattoos. As she works on them, she can feel her mind drifting to Harry. Harry and how they were friends now. She was pretty sure, right? They were friends. He had never really said a mean thing to her if she really thought about it. It was her… She had been rude and mean-spirited and he had just taken it. He rarely had even thrown it back at her. He was so good to her and patient and she realized that he had proven to her that he was good. He was better than good, he was kind and loving. Considerate. Wonderful. All of those positive superlatives, Harry filled them. And she had the audacity to be mean to him.

She paused the brush that was adding blush to an actresses cheek.

Lisa, the actress, looks at Y/N confusedly, “What’s wrong?”

Y/N twitches her head, refocusing on her task at hand. The realization of her pausing her work becomes clear as she looks between her hand and the cheek that has not enough blush on it. “Oh,” she breathes. “...I just realized that I was terrible to someone who doesn’t have a mean bone in their body.”

Lisa nods, “Apologize.”

“Yeah, I mean...We’ve kind of moved past the phase where we don’t get along. Like now we’re friends, but the realization just really hit me.” She sighs, picking up where she left off on Lisa’s makeup. “I’ll make sure to apologize next time I see them.”

Lisa smiles.

At the end of the day, Y/N realizes she left her tattoo coverage kit in Harry’s room after their touch-up session halfway through the day. She had run off to help with a makeup emergency for a tiny cut on a minor character’s face and forgotten to go back and grab her things. Another roll of her eyes and a huff of breath and then she’s walking back to Trailer 6, a place that seemed like a home away from home now. She knocks, patiently waiting at the bottom of the steps.

Harry swings open the door and props it with his hip. He’s got a toothbrush held in his mouth, slowly scrubbing back and forth with his left hand. His costume is somewhat taken off, he’s still got the pants on with suspenders hanging down, his chest was completely bare and he looked funny with some of his tattoos only being half covered based on what parts of his skin had been showing today. Her work. His skin looked half silky smooth and half tattooed like usual.

His naked skin seemingly left her breathless because as her eyes returned to Harry’s face, she breathed a soft, “Hi.”

“Hey,” a smirk twists onto his face. “Forget something?”

“Yes,” she nods, coming back to her senses and entering the trailer at Harry’s gesture.

She begins to pack up the kit that had been left haphazardly strewn around on his counter. “I’m sorry I left a mess like this, I got called over to something else and forgot.”

“Don’t worry darling,” Harry grins at his joke.

She looks up from her work and sees Harry in the reflection of the mirror. He’s wiping off the makeup from his chest and his beautiful tattoos reemerge as entire images.

She laughs humorlessly, “It gets less funny each time you use that.”

“That’s not true,” he looks at her through the mirror now, his green eyes trained on her face, “Everyone else still thinks it’s hilarious.”

“They’re humoring you and your fragile ego,” she winks and watches as Harry’s smirk twitches from his perfect face.

“You’ve got a very mean disposition, you know that?” He asks.

He finishes his chest and moves to remove the makeup from his left arm, glancing at the mirror every so often to check himself and to flicker his eyes over Y/N’s face.

She genuinely laughs at that, but scolds herself internally for being mean when she had planned to apologize the next time she saw Harry. This was the next time so why was she doing this instead?

“Rewrite sweet disposition for me?” Her voice honeyed. Clearly stubborn and terrible at saying sorry...maybe her and Harry were a better match than she realized.

Harry twists his lips as he slips on his t-shirt he was wearing today.

“Pick you up at 6:30?” He says as his head pops out from beneath the rainbow striped sweatshirt he slipped on top of the shirt. His chestnut hair had been toweled out and was flopping over his forehead slightly.

She sighs and zips close the kit, standing from the seat she had taken at his counter and turning to face him now.

“6:30 is perfect. Thanks again for doing this. I just can’t believe Nick Kroll is inviting me over for dinner!” She smiles, shifting to lean against the counter as she waits for Harry to finish up. She didn’t have to but for some reason she felt like she was in no rush.

“Are you serious?” He’s moved on to changing his pants now and he’s slipping on black sweatpants.

“Yeah…” She blinks and her eyes widen as Harry appraises her expression.

He straightens up after fixing a cuff on the pants and he can’t tell if she’s being genuine or sarcastic. It was always so hard to tell with her.

“I mean, Nick Kroll is like a huge celebrity and I know in the entertainment business you’re not supposed to get starstruck but when I was in college my sister thought he was weirdly hot and my friends and I would shit talk him. I don’t know, it’s just kind of surreal to be having dinner at his place. Like I’ve watched him on tv and now I’ll be eating with him...so weird.”

He shakes his head, beginning on his dirty vans now. A small laugh escapes his mouth and he glances between her and his shoe, scratching his head quickly. “I still can’t tell… It feels like you’re fucking with me right now.”

“I’m not!” She insists, her hands coming out in front of her in a confused fashion. “I used to watch that guy’s tv show then he’s my boss now he’s inviting me over for food? It’s a lot to process.”

“How come it’s not surreal to be having dinner with me then?” He asks semi-joking, a hint of offense tinged within it. It’s visible only in his knitted brow and twisted lip.

“Careful there, sailor. Venturing into some dangerously self-absorbed waters.” Her eyes light up, a quick raise of her brows accompany the shine, and she decides now is her time to head out. Especially as she thinks about getting ready for this soiree tonight. She needed to shower and pick out an outfit with less than two hours to prepare.

Harry sputters at her response and fumbles with his pink shoelace. “That’s not...that is - You’re being unfair. My question is valid.”

She shrugs her shoulders and skirts Harry’s attempt at grabbing at her arm to stop her from leaving. “Okay, Mr. Big Man On Campus. I promise you you’re the most popular boy in school.”

She blows him a kiss and walks out the door as he attempts to get her to come back by calling her name a few times and slightly shouting “C’mon! I wasn’t being insecure. That was a reasonable ask…”

He sighs and shakes his head again. Every interaction would end with one of them either rolling their eyes or shaking their head and usually a sigh on both of their lips. It was exhausting, but exhilarating too.

20 minutes later, Harry receives a text from Y/N: “You’re still picking me up right :))) ?”

He’s in his car, getting ready to finally leave after getting held up with last minute schedule changes that he had to be informed about by some PA that he had forgotten the name of. His lip quirks to the right and he closes his eyes for a second enjoying seeing her name on his phone screen for a moment.

He types back: “Of courseeee”.

“Fab.” She sends back, immediately followed by: “Fanks BMOC ;)”

A full smile rolls onto Harry’s face after he swipes his tongue over his lower lip. “Yeah, yeah, save it for the next guy” he types out quickly before throwing his phone gently beside him and driving back to his apartment. She made him feel young, not that he wasn’t young, but generally his friends didn’t text like she did.

At 6:28, she receives a text from Harry Styles - his name in her phone. A name she had never expected to see in her phone unless her Spotify was on shuffle. Yet, instead, his name popped up under messages and it read “Here!” followed by a quick “I think” and then a phone call coming through from the apparently anxious man himself.

“Hello Harry.” Her tone even. She throws little items into her purse, making sure everything she needs is there.

“Could you peek out your window? I’m not quite sure I’m at the right place and people are staring…” nerves laced in his rushed tone.

She ambles to the window and opens up the shade she had closed to change. Below her, she sees a sleek black Range Rover with a slightly disarrayed hairdo and big dark glasses peeking below the windshield. She ignored the instinct to retch at the sight of the Range Rover and peered at the lamp lit sight below her. It was definitely Harry, but she searched for the prying eyes he was worried about and saw none. Well, maybe a few, but it wasn’t a lot.

“I see you, I’ll be right out, dude. Just deep breaths, it’s mostly crew staying here right now so they’re just seeing that it’s you, another guy they work with. They won’t come up for pictures...I would hope.”

She hangs up with no farewell, snatches her purse from its place on the bed and races out the door. Harry smiles anxiously at her when she stands next to the passenger’s door and he unlocks it. She bites her lip and raises her brows, waiting to hear if anything terrible happened in the minute and a half it took her to come downstairs and out to the car.

“Hi,” he exhales.

A smirk crawls onto her features and her eyes sparkle with a bit of a childish glee that normally she didn’t exhibit as she glances at him. “Hi.” She says quietly. “Alright big boy?”

“‘M fine.” He huffs but balks at her smile that she maintains while she stares at him. “What?”

“Just happy to see you, I guess,” her smile returns after speaking and Harry glances between her face and the windshield in front of him.

He can’t tell if she’s being serious or not once again. But he fears that conversation of her either ridiculing him for thinking she is serious or being offended that he still can’t tell. Instead, he will keep his mouth shut. For the most part.

“Happy to see you, too,” his lips create a closed mouth smile quickly before turning out of the parking lot.

She watches him. Their first time together outside of work. And they were friends. She needed to get used to simply thinking that. He picked her up to take her to dinner with her other friend and his wife. This was normal life, just with big names behind those terms of relation. Jesus, she always said it didn’t bother her to be around celebrities so why did she think about it so damn much?

She twitches her head and refocuses on Harry and his driving. His jaw is clenched again and she wants to reach out and sooth it herself. Instead she starts to open her mouth to correct him, but stops herself from that as well. They weren’t at work and it didn’t feel like something just a friend would say right now. She refocuses on the view of his eyes that are barely visible while he regards the road. His large eyes that she had grown acquainted to are surveying what he’s doing, every so often drifting to the right side of the road to check out the lane beside him. But then, always back to right in front of him, leaving a crescent of green visible to her.

“Can feel you staring at me…” His voice sounds like it’s rolled around in gravel after the long work day. It makes her wonder if he’s supposed to have a vocal rest when he’s not at work, but then again it’s the weekend now so maybe it was fine. Maybe she should ask him. Or maybe she should stop worrying so much about him.

“Have I got something on my face?” His low register bumps her from her racing thoughts. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, but she can see he’s widened his eyes in wonder.

“No! Of course not, I just was...making sure you weren’t going to crash us or something.” She grasps at straws, desperate to not be caught by Harry.

A low chuckle bubbles from his chest and he spares a small glance over at her bundled up in his passenger seat. She matches his gaze with something of distrust hidden behind her eyes. She hopes to convey that she’s being silly and when Harry turns back to look at the road unassumingly, she feels like she has won. The harmonies of the beginning of a Queen song take over the silence, Harry’s spindly fingers thrumming against the wheel.

They arrive at the Kroll’s Palm Springs residence at 6:50. 10 minutes early and the two twiddle their thumbs for a few minutes, trying to pass the time and not intrude earlier than they were supposed to. She appreciated that Harry liked to be timely but not early, similar to how she was.

“So what is the fascination with Range Rovers?” She queries, leaning against the door’s armrest. The back of her head touches against the semi-tinted window.

Harry shifts in his seat, seat belt no longer constricting him and no road requiring his attention as they sit in the driveway. He rushes a hand through his hair and lets a single strand of hair fall over his prominent forehead.

“Dunno,” he shrugs his shoulders and allows a hand to fall onto the steering wheel absentmindedly. “I don’t really prefer them anymore, but when I’m in LA and doing work, it makes things easier. My other cars are a little flashier...have more privacy in this.”

“Yet the effect is similar,” she muses.

Her head tilts to take in Harry’s appearance, sharp black silky button-up and dark green plaid slacks, and she rubs a hand over her jaw. His eyes flicker to the movement and attempt to really take it in, even in the dim glow of the lamp light outside barely peeking into the dark interior of the car.

“Effect?”

“Y’know…” She arches her brow at him. He feigns innocence or possibly the expression is genuine. She’s begun to realize Harry was as genuine as they came, but she just didn’t think he was that unaware. An assumption that was likely correct, but even Harry liked to pretend he was a completely unassuming individual.

“Forget it,” she finishes when he gives no indication that he knows what she is hinting at. She doesn’t want to get into it with him again. Especially when he plays at this game where he has no idea what she’s talking about. It made her feel like she was crazy for thinking he made these calculated decisions to get his desired outcomes.

They move on, neither of them quite sure what the other was getting at in that conversation. The two of them walk into the house a minute before their expected arrival time side by side and are greeted happily with Nick and his wife. They’re ushered in and Y/N is happily received by the happy couple.

“So, Y/N, how’s it been for you working with these two? I know they can be more than a handful - especially together,” Nick’s wife, Lily, asks after a sip of wine.

The group of four had been eating for a while with Nick and Harry bantering for quite a bit at the beginning about whether or not Harry would be willing to hand feed Nick. The answer was settled at “another time”.

Harry seems to have a very specific habit of watching whoever is speaking - no matter what. So after Lily has finished speaking, his gaze flickers to Y/N, the person his brain expects to speak next. He watches her attentively as she wipes her mouth on her napkin before speaking.

Her hair was styled differently tonight than it usually was on set, she had it down rather than up in a ponytail or braids. He hadn’t had time to really look at her when they had been in the car, his mind occupied with stress and exhaustion that he refocused into driving and deep breathing. Now, in the comfort of a trusted friend’s home, he was far more relaxed and able to truly take in her appearance, which he couldn’t help but think was beautiful. He’d have to tell her that at some point. That he thought she was beautiful. Not that he didn’t see her on set and think she was beautiful...he just hadn’t really thought about it before. She was his wily makeup artist who was critical of him most times, but occasionally sweet, who had an amazing taste in music and good aesthetic style. The beauty part of it all, he guessed wasn’t something integral to their relationship before.

But now he was sitting beside her at the Kroll’s nice dining table and she had her hair splayed in front and behind her shoulders with one side tucked behind her ear and her outfit fit her impeccably. The top she had on had capped sleeves that cinched with buttons at her delicate wrists and a severe drop to create a small sweetheart neckline just above the curve of her breasts. It was silky and shiny, a blush pink that complemented the high waisted dark grey slacks that flared over shiny black boots that he wasn’t sure where they ended beneath the pants.

“Well,” she starts, chuckling under her breath when she meets Harry’s stare, “Harry and I spend a lot of time together, covering up all his tattoos, and he yaps a lot. So, it’s actually pretty refreshing when Nick comes in, because Harry’s then talking half the normal amount.”

He huffs a scoff, while Lily and Nick laugh happily. Nick interjects an “ouch” for the bite she just took out of Harry, but she thought it was fine, he can take it.

Harry thought to himself that if she can serve it, then she can definitely take it. His eyes remain on her as he opens his mouth to speak, but then look at Lily when words actually come out. “Well, Y/N, she thinks she can read people really well, but it’s actually quite the opposite. She had me completely wrong when we first met, so I talk now in hopes that she’ll really understand me.”

His head tilts to her when he mentions her name, but otherwise doesn’t glance her way away again. He scrunches his nose at the end of his comment, implying he converses with her out of pity.

It’s her turn to scoff and stare at him unamused. Nick and Lily share a look, unsure of what was going on, they had concocted this dinner date idea in hopes to set the two up but the way this conversation was going, they seemed to be pushing each other further and further away from one another.

“That’s simply not true,” she says curtly and takes a sip of her quickly emptying wine glass.

“Which part?”

“Almost all of it, I’d say,” her eyes glaring back at him, fiery with a disdain he hadn’t seen in awhile. “You’re proving my original perception of you with every passing second,” she adds.

“Care to elaborate exactly what the original perception of me was for the class,” his eyes are wide and wild, any extra adoration he had started to feel towards her slipping away just as quickly as it had come, like a wave along the beach.

“You know, so why don’t you?”

“I want to hear you say it,” he grits out the command.

She shifts in her seat, glancing at Nick and Lily who are watching on and she has a feeling she won’t be getting an invitation again anytime soon. Lily gives her a semi-reassuring smile like she was sorry to have asked the question at all, but Y/N knows this is kind of her fault, not that she would ever admit that. Her comment could have been taken innocuously, but Harry’s pride wouldn’t let it slide. Like she said, she should have known better, the weeks of friendship were flying out the window and she was helping them along.

“And what if I don’t?”

“Have fun calling an uber at this time of night,” he shrugs, malice dripping in his tone.

She truly was taken aback at this. A slight sound of shock leaving her mouth. Harry was many things, impatient and anxious usually, but downright cruel with her, she had yet to see it. Arrogant and pompous, definitely, but this wickedness that was starting to creep from the shadows worried her. But the little fiery demon within her wasn’t going anywhere either - yet she might back down to save herself some money and hassle.

“Fine,” she raises her brows in a challenge to him and restates her original take on him - possibly adding a bit extra malice in her phrasing, “You are a shell of a man, held up by the people around you, creating the illusion of a completely genuine and down to earth rocker who dabbles in acting, philanthropy and all around goodness. No one’s ever had a bad experience because no one’s ever truly met you. Not the real you.” She takes a deep breath as she shakes her head in disbelief now, a sarcastic laugh leaving her mouth, “And I thought, I really thought, that I had been wrong. Because these past months you really fooled me with your sweet smile and deep eyes. But when it comes down to it, you tricked me just like everyone else.”

Harry stares at her blankly and she shakes her head once more, feeling foolish. For thinking Harry was someone he wasn’t. For thinking the past few months had been real. For thinking that tonight would go off without a hitch. And the shit part of it was that she had really hoped that all of it was true. She wanted this to be her life, but her instincts had been right. Beware of the picture perfect because it always is just a mirage of deceit and lies.

“All I’ve got to say is you’re a damn good actor Harry, so at least you’ve got that going for you.” Then she pushes back from the table and stands, turning to Nick and Lily. “I really am so sorry, I understand that you probably want me to leave, so I’ll just be going,” her voice faltering at the end, she wasn’t as strong as she liked to pretend and she was pretty sure she just ruined her chances of working again in Hollywood. You’d have to be an idiot to be an enemy of Harry Styles and she feels like she just became his first.

“No!” Nick says quickly, standing too, “I think things just escalated really quickly and some things were said that both of you didn’t mean. Um...just, let’s take a few minutes to cool off. Harry could you and Lily deal with the dishes and I’m going to talk with Y/N alone.”

Everyone nods and Y/N follows Nick down a hallway, a little confused but following after he beckons her with his hand. They go out a side door and end up on a porch in the backyard. He stoops down and opens a little sitting mailbox she didn’t see and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He places one between his teeth and then offers one to her. She accepts, not usually a regular smoker, but right now seemed like a fair time to indulge in the bad habit. She needed to calm her rapidly beating heart.

He lights the cigarette for her when he sees her shaking hands and then in turn lights his own. They stand on the porch beside each other and stare out into the dark night sky.

“Well, this wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go,” Nick starts, after a few exhales of smoke.

“No,” she laughs nervously, her foot toeing at the wooden slate on the porch. “I shouldn’t have tried to make a joke.”

“No one’s to blame,” Nick says quickly, glancing at her, “You and Harry...you both have really strong personalities and I don’t think either of you are used to being challenged.”

She nods along, she definitely had to agree after the argument they had both willingly gotten into in front of other people.

“I think that can be a really good thing, challenging each other, because then you two can both grow. But what happened in there was more of a battle to the death rather than a friendly spar.”

“Yeah,” she exhales, flicking at the burning cigarette between her fingers, “I don’t know why he gets under my skin sometimes in a way I’ve never dealt with and it’s kind of uncomfortable so I lash out, I guess.”

Nick stays quiet, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Ugh,” she groans, “I wish I hadn’t done that. We were doing so well, it’s like I don’t even really know what I’m saying, it’s like I can’t handle a friendly spar, I always end up going in for the kill - as you put it.”

She rubs at her face with her free hand and then takes a drag herself. Nick bites at his lower lip, trying to think of a solution.

“Y’know? Lily and I had concocted this plan to try and set you and Harry up tonight,” he says slowly, revealing the plan that had clearly been taken off the table as they just needed to attempt to salvage cordiality.

“Really?!” She’s in complete disbelief and slight dismay that the plan was seemingly ruined.

“Well,” he sputters, “When the two of you aren’t throwing verbal fireballs at each other, you’re actually quite sweet to one another. Those fond little glances you hope no one sees, well he does that too, and you both fail miserably because I see it all the time. I’m sure plenty of people do too.”

“Oh,” she states, visibly deflating. She looks to the ashtray conveniently on a table behind her and presses out the rest of the cigarette. “Should probably talk to him, huh?”

Nick nods, stamping out his nub of a cigarette as well. They go back inside and into the kitchen where Lily and Harry have plated dessert. Harry looks a little sheepish, likely having a similar conversation with Lily and she wouldn’t be surprised if her expression looks similar, if not a bit more flushed from the outdoor chill.

Lily murmurs that she and Nick are going to eat their dessert in the living room, a fair bit away from the kitchen and the two now deflated counterparts nod and then stare at each other, knowing what they need to do.

“Can we talk?” Harry rasps out, his voice even lower as he speaks softly, a mere foot away from her in the kitchen.

She nods, but moves further from him to lean against the counter and tuck her hands behind her. She’s lost her appetite and doesn’t want Harry to see her shaking digits.

He’s ducked his head and a stray curl falls over his forehead, laying there softly. He doesn’t move to fix it, just stares at his feet until she begins to talk. He can’t not look at her face when she speaks.

“So…” She slowly starts, not enjoying the tension in the room. Her eyes can’t meet his though, his stare dark and unnerving like usual, but almost painfully so now. “I can start.” She kicks at the tiling on the floor like she had done outside as well, trying to not think about the eyes trained on her right now. “I’m sorry I lashed out on you, Harry. I didn’t mean what I said, it was just a heat of the moment response.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Harry says immediately once she finishes speaking, “I shouldn’t have gotten upset over a silly joke and brought up a sensitive subject. Then it escalated…”

“Yeah, I really liked the friendship we’ve garnered these past few months and I just can’t believe I almost ruined everything - including my career…” she squeaks at the end and tears start to roll from her eyes. “Oh god,” she is hit with the gravity of all that she almost ruined as Harry stares at her again. “I’m so sorry, Harry, I really am. Do you forgive me? I don’t think I could stand it if you didn’t.”

She stands there and feels sobs wrack through her and her hands go to cover her face out of embarrassment. She had caused a scene and now she was making another one. In front of Harry.

In an instant his arms are wrapped around her frame and he’s hushing her cries. They had never hugged before, but now seemed like as good a time as ever. His arms were strong around her and she pressed her face into his chest, not caring at all about how she looked or whether this was worse than getting in a fight and running off.

“Of course I forgive you,” he says and then begins repeating her name over and over, trying to soothe her. He definitely had been hurt by her words, but it seemed like she was more upset about the whole situation than he was and he didn’t think bringing up what specifically had hurt him would help her frame of mind.

She settles after some time, her whimpers and tears subsiding after being rocked into a more peaceful mindset with the help of Harry’s calming voice and reassuring embrace.

“I really am sorry,” she whispers again.

Harry pulls his neck back and his head off the top of her head to look at her face. It was tear stained and her eyes were glassy, lips slightly puffy. He gave her a soft tight-lipped smile. “No more apologies,” he states sternly and then softens again at the slight quiver in her lip. He pulls from her a little more, leaving her at arm's length, with his hands still attached to her hips, fingers slipping over the plaid fabric. “I meant to tell you this earlier, before things…” he stares at her face again and she holds it this time, “You look beautiful tonight.”

She scoffs and her eyes immediately drop to her feet, “Definitely not anymore.” She doesn’t believe Harry.

“‘M serious,” he insists. His right index finger goes to rest beneath her chin and brings her face up to look back at him.

“Sure,” she says, still not convinced but not sure how else to respond. She feels herself warming at all the positive attention he’s pouring into her.

His gaze won’t falter from her face, he’s intent upon making her understand him. He whispers her name, “Accept the compliment.”

“You’re stubborn,” she notes.

“So are you,” he counters quickly.

“Fine, thank you,” she sighs when he won’t stop giving her that look of his. That look that makes her want to melt into the ground because it feels like she’s the only person in the world. “Though you looked especially good tonight, too,” she adds, her hands rubbing over his shoulders softly.

“Thank you,” Harry states lowly, the words only traveling to her ears. His hands fiddle with the sides of her top, thinking about the night and where they were now. Her eyes were red from crying and overall she looked tired beyond her years. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“That’d be nice.”

They make a quiet farewell to Nick and Lily, as well as apologies from both her and Harry. They don’t speak in the car and the music plays loud enough for it to not seem unreasonable for them to be silent. Harry’s hands don’t tap against the steering wheel, they sit in their spots stoically doing their job and nothing more. She watches the window, legs crossed and hands clasped in her lap. She’s thankful for the music because she knows that even though they had talked, it wasn’t enough. What she had said was hurtful and one apology wasn’t enough for how she had behaved. She didn’t think her and Harry would be the same after tonight, but the silence made it possible for her to pretend none of it had happened.

Just as Harry’s car is pulling up the apartment complex that is far darker now, the harsh splatter of rain begins to fall on the pavement and the sleek black car the two are still sat in.

“Oh,” she comments offhandedly, just responding to what she had noticed.

The rain grows louder when Harry parks and then turns off the car. He glances at her for the first time since they got into the car. She registers the look out of the corner of her eye, her face still looking out at the rain. She loved the rain, but there wasn’t always a lot in Southern California, especially not in Palm Springs. It seemed that tonight was different.

“Well,” Harry breaks his silence, she thinks that’s her cue to leave and unbuckles her seatbelt, but he continues. “This certainly wasn’t how I expected this night to go.”

She stops moving, her hand hovering over the handle of the door. She sits back and settles into the seat, feeling her teeth bite into the plush of her bottom lip.

“That’s what people keep saying,” her eyes remain on the rain hitting the front of the car, the splatters of seemingly black liquid that form when the clear rain touches the onyx hood of the car.

“Huh?” Harry grows perplexed at the rather wistful tone of her and how she won’t look at him again. He was still hurt, but he had hoped them talking in the kitchen had straightened some things out. During the car ride he hadn’t wanted to talk, but it didn’t mean he was still angry with her. Just confused, and growing further confused by the second.

“Oh,” she repeats, “Didn’t Lily say? Her and Nick concocted that dinner in hopes to set us up.”

Harry hums, knowing that because Nick had left out a little part of that plan. That he had been a part of it. He had been talking with Nick about getting to know her better outside of work and how Nick had thought it’d be a good idea to have dinner so he had told Lily and they set it up like a casual dinner party. Harry didn’t know how to respond because her knowing that he was in on the plan might just make matters worse. He really didn’t think things could get much worse, but it seemed that they always managed to make it happen so in the end he decided to keep his mouth shut.

“I don’t know if we’d ever be able to work out differences out for that,” she decides to continue, when Harry stays quiet. She scans the interior of the car and watches Harry for the briefest moment before going back to looking out the window. “Nick said that we challenge each other to grow, but all I see us do is hurt each other.”

Her voice is just above the rain pattering outside the car and Harry thinks it sounds almost melodic if it weren’t for the sadness laced in every word.

“I disagree,” he states before wetting his lips.

“Of course you do,” she laughs in spite of herself.

“Even after all these months together and you still don’t get it. I like you.”

“You don’t like me, I don’t know how you could ever like me,” she shakes her head. “We just...we get under each other’s skin. You can make me so angry sometimes and I know I make you angry too. And when we’re not angry, we’re focussed on something that doesn’t have to do with ourselves.”

“I don’t think what you feel for me is anger,” Harry insists, “Just because something feels burning and fiery, frustrating even, doesn’t mean it’s anger.”

His body shifts closer to the center divide and she turns to face him finally. His eyes are extra dark in this lighting, which is barely there from a streetlamp a ways off. She longs for the comfort of his light green eyes, the soft pale glow of the moss that seems to have been trapped within his iris. Maybe for that reason she unknowingly leans closer to him.

“Then what is it?” She whispers, eyes blinking slowly as her breathing grows strained.

“Passion.”

Immediately, her head is tilting to meet his lips. Her mind knows one thing, she needs to be kissing Harry right now. And then she is. His left hand goes to cup her cheek as his lips attach themselves to hers. His soft lips press to hers in a long searing kiss. They stay there for a moment, pressing all of that passion and frustration into the kiss.

She presses impatiently forward, her lips starting to move more, wanting to kiss him deeper. Harry obliges, parting his lips and kissing her more vigorously. He licks into her open mouth and smiles at the sound she makes in appreciation for his actions.

She’s shifted to have herself kneeling on the leather seat and she’s leaning over the console. One of her hands finds purchase on Harry’s thigh and grasps tightly, her other at the back of his neck, pressing him closer if it were possible.

His chest is pressing against hers as he pulls her closer. He kisses her and his fingertips rub softly at the apple of her cheek. Eventually they run behind the shell of her ear and trail down her neck.

Eventually, she pulls away and stares at Harry. She watches as his eyes flutter open gently. His soft eyelashes dust his cheeks before moving away, allowing his eyes to peer at her in the dark.

Her breathing feels a little irregular after the kissing and she’s sure she is heaving her chest slightly, likely mirroring Harry’s chest as well.

“So, where to now?” She inquires, lips quirked up at her suggestion.

Harry giggles and scratches his nose against his index finger.

Harry doesn’t stay the night, he walks her up to her apartment door though. He kisses her chastley in front of her door and wraps an arm around her waist as he does so. He bids her a goodnight and a promise of seeing her soon.

They don’t see each other for a month. Both of them had been so blissful after the endorphins of kissing their person that they had forgotten that filming had wrapped. They weren’t set to work for a month. Harry texted her the next morning informing her that he’d be in England until filming resumed. She was still going to be in California, filming was moving back to Los Angeles, so she’d be back in her place there. Her family knew she was working, so they had sent her presents ahead to her place instead. Angie, her only true friend in the area, was spending her time with her actual family and Y/N didn’t want to intrude.

So the holidays were going to be spent alone. Those four weeks alone passed surprisingly quickly. She practiced techniques on herself, bought a tiny Christmas tree like the one in A Charlie Brown Christmas, watched A Charlie Brown Christmas and just about every other holiday movie possible. She fell in love with young Hugh Grant and Colin Firth for the thousandth time. She sang carols to herself and decorated her place with decorations from Target. She jammed out to the new Miley Cyrus album and held dance parties for herself in the house. She baked cookies and even attempted a trifle after watching a Great British Bake Off episode. She did and she did all in hopes that her mind wouldn’t wander to the guy who hadn’t called.

Harry texted occasionally, but it was infrequent at best. He was a busy person, she knew that. She knew who he was. And she didn’t want her mind to have enough time to feel sorry for herself. For her to think that she was just somebody to pass the time with while at work, because if she stopped doing things that’s where her mind would wander. Why did her mind spiral like it did? She had no idea, she’d always been like that.

His absence, their separation, made her question if her own feelings were even true. She wondered if when she saw him he would act as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t said their relationship was passionate and she had kissed him until she couldn’t breath.

Too much time alone, she needed some fresh air. On January 2nd, after an uneventful night at home and a lackluster countdown washed down with cheap champagne, she decided to go and walk around near her place. There was a coffee shop that wasn’t extremely expensive that she also liked that she figured she would get coffee from. After a brisk walk, she walked through the store's doors and ordered an iced green tea. As she waited, she watched the other customers around her, wishing to see a friendly face, someone she knew. And seconds later, she was met with half of that wish. Someone she knew, not necessarily a friendly face.

“Autumn.” She states with a grimace when someone taps her on the shoulder and she spins around.

“Y/N? It is you!” Autumn, one of the PA’s from Don’t Worry Darling who was especially in Harry’s business, exclaims overly happy as per usual.

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek and gives a tight lipped smile, trying her best to be cordial.

“How’s your holiday been!” Autumn asks.

“Great. You?”

“So great!” She’s quick to lean closer and say in a hushed tone, “But I miss working on set, especially getting to see that Harry everyday. He’s just so gorgeous.”

A breath gets stuck in Y/N’s chest at the mention of Harry’s name. Her brows can’t help but raise a bit at Autumn’s comment. Even lowering her voice didn’t make it feel alright to talk about Harry like this. He was her friend after all.

“Sure.” Y/N nods abruptly, realizing Autumn wants some recognition of what she’s just said. Y/N’s eyes glance around the room, hoping for an out like her drink is ready or something - no such luck.

“I mean,” Autumn keeps talking, of course, “You’re so lucky. You get to see him shirtless, like what? Everyday practically? Don’t tell me you don’t miss that just a little bit!”

“I miss working,” Y/N says, avoiding what Autumn is trying to get her to say. “And Harry’s my friend, could you maybe not talk about him like that with me?”

Autumn’s eyes widened in shock, her lips parted dumbfounded by her co-worker's response. Y/N’s name is called for her drink and she’s thankful for the serendipitous nature of that sound getting her out of the awkward situation she had just been in.

When she gets back to her apartment, she surprisingly has a text from Harry himself. She’s always telling everyone; speak of the devil and he will appear, in one way or another. It’s a Happy New Year well wish followed by a separate text asking how she was.

It was sent a minute ago so she decides to try and give him a call. She preferred talking on the phone over texting.

It rings a few times and then, again surprisingly, he picks up.

“‘Lo?” His voice is nice and deep and sounding extra British after his weeks surrounded by family and such.

“Harry,” she sighs contentedly.

“Happy to hear your voice,” he says her name and she can tell he’s smiling just like she is, from ear to ear.

She bites at her lip, hearing him say her name.

“I’m well, thanks,” she says after a moment of happy silence.

“What?” Harry laughs, confused.

“You texted asking me how I was and I called to respond.”

“Got it,” Harry chuckles, and she hears him shuffling around, likely sitting down on something.

“How are you?” She continues.

“Good, starting to wind down for the day,” he lists off the things he’s been doing over the past few days. Some of it work related, some of it family activities. All of it fun, he insists. “What did you do today?” He finishes, knowing she was an avid activity doer based off of the snaps she had sent him over the past few weeks.

“Tidied my place, went to the coffee shop and got iced tea…” she tries to think and then she gasps, “Oh! And I saw Autumn, one of the Don’t Worry Darling PA’s -”

“The one who’s obsessed with me?”

“Exactly!” She laughs, “And I may have kind of told her off… accidentally.”

“Accidentally told her off?” Harry repeats, incredulous. “How’d you do that?”

“Well,” she doesn’t want to tell him the rest, but there’s also a tiny part of her that really does, “She was gushing about you, which, ew. And then she asked if I missed seeing you shirtless everyday.”

“Well do you miss seeing me shirtless?” Harry smirks.

“Oh shut up!” She’s quick to reply.

“So you do?”

“If I really wanted to see you shirtless, all I’d have to do is type in “Harry Styles sh” and it would come up,” she rolls her eyes even though she knows he can’t see them. “Wouldn’t even need the whole word. Guaranteed.”

“Uh-huh?” Harry questions still, “If you want me to send you shirtless pictures that the rest of the world hasn’t seen, Y/N, all you have to do is ask.”

“I do not want you to send me shirtless pictures of yourself!” She exclaims. She feels like jumping out of a window right now. This conversation had escalated so quickly and she felt herself flushing, maybe even perspiring a little bit. And she also knew that she also would probably like it if he sent her shirtless pictures, which made this whole thing worse.

“Offer stands,” he says, smug as he normally was, happy he got to banter with her again. It had been dull without her, if he was honest with himself. “If you ever find yourself in need, just send a cheeky text and I’ll whip one out for you, no matter where I am or what I’m doing.”

“See this sounds like you’re saying something sincere, but really you’re just telling me you’ll send me nudes at any time.”

“No one said anything about nudes!”

“Shirtless, nude, sounds like you’re getting too caught up in the details, hon.”

“No!” He protests, “You’re the one who’s supposed to be flustered right now, not me!”

“Aww, you’re flustered,” She coos.

Harry groans. “Whatever. I’ll be back on the 8th, be ready to go out on the 9th. I’m taking you on a proper date.”

“How do you know I’m going to say yes?” She bite her lip again, she’s really sweating now. She couldn’t believe he had just asked her out on a date out of nowhere. Out of them just joking about nudes. Maybe she didn’t know Harry as well as she thought.

“Because you called me,” he says confidently.

“I call everyone.”

“But I don’t offer shirtless pictures to everyone.”

“That has nothing to do with me saying yes to this date.”

“Or does it?”

She laughs at his words, at how his voice still manages to convey every facial expression and quirk of his lips. She knows there’s a smile on his lips as he stares in the distance, imagining her face just as she is his.

“Yes.” She smiles.

“Yes!” He repeats happily.

She hears him stand up and spin around possibly and she chuckles slightly, amused at the silly man across the world who had seemed to have stolen her heart.

“See you soon, Harry.”

“Not soon enough.”

On the Saturday of their date, Harry insists on picking her up. He meets her at her door and winks at her after pulling away from their short hug. He laces his hand in hers and she follows behind him as he all but drags her to his car that is downstairs. He seems giddy. His hair has grown out in the month he’s been gone and she knows they’ll cut it when filming resumes. He’s wearing Gucci flared blue jeans - she knows from the big logo on the bottom left pant leg - a ‘Waiting for Sunset’ graphic tee beneath a black cardigan with little animals and items knitted in it. And of course, his dirty ass vans. She had hoped that maybe Christmas would bring him a fresh pair from someone, but it seemed there was no such luck.

Either way, he looked good and upon scanning his outfit, she was pleased that she had dressed correctly for the occasion, knowing one of the sins of Los Angeles was being improperly dressed wherever you might go. Harry had said casual, but casual can always mean so many different things. She got it right with light wash high-waisted levi’s, a brown cream rib-knit long sleeve that buttoned like it could be a cardigan, and some fun chunky boots that added some height to her normal stature. She had contemplated between this and possibly twenty other tops and a few other bottoms. Landing on this felt right, plus it didn’t clash with Harry, the color of her shoes actually matched the color of the snake on the cardigan.

They both compliment each other on the way out to his car and she giggles when he stops and twirls her around. He says he didn’t get a “proper look” before for him to compliment her adequately. After the twirl, he nods and starts them off again, complimenting the specific pieces of her clothes and says she looks beautiful again. His giddiness was contagious.

“No Range tonight,” she muses when Harry stops them in front of a Mercedes-Benz cream convertible, top up.

“Not working,” he replies, unlocking the car with the key into the passenger’s side door handle.

She smiles and slides into the car and watches him jog around to his side and unlock it as well.

“Tonight is going to be fantastic,” he says, leaning over the console and kissing her cheek, just beside her lips.

And when he pulls away with that smug smile of his, she knows he kissed her there on purpose. But the little tease only makes her smile more. He was good at this. And he was right.

The night was fantastic. As was every night after. And she learned that Harry was so much more than anything she ever thought. She counted herself lucky to be loved by a man like him.

#harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #enemies to lovers #dwd!harry #idk I always feel like theres more I need to put in here but idk #pls leave feedback and reblog

2K notes · View notes

oro-e-diamanti · 3 years

Text

The one with the matchmaking

My masterlist

Description | Victoria is desperate to set you and Thomas up... Might there be a spark already?

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Thomas

Word Count | 2663

Taglist (add yourself here!) | @mywritingonlyfans @damianodavide @lizstans @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @nientedaridere @shaunthesheesh @damianodavidhands @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @solasullabarca @foryourllove @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @marriedwithmarktuan @bookish0918 @mehrmonga @ginny-lily @ohtorchio @messyhairday-me @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut @katyldamusic @fuckim-so-gay @demoiselle-en-detresse00

***

There had been an unspoken thing between you and Thomas from the first day you met. It was one of those right person, wrong time scenarios. Both of you were happily taken by other people, loving your partners, and leading healthy relationships. It simply hadn't been meant to be and both of you had gladly accepted it. Nothing had ever happened, despite the others insisting there must have, neither of you was like that. So you stayed friends with him, the same way you stayed friends with Victoria, Damiano, and Ethan and it didn't take long for the five of you to grow into a loving group, a chosen family. That was until both you and Thomas happened to have broken up with your respective partners within the same week. It was safe to say that it didn't take long for the meddling to start.

***

"I just think they'd make such a good couple!" Victoria said, pushing the empty beer bottles around on the table in annoyance. "They're basically made for each other."

"Leave it, Vic," Ethan said. The dark of the bar was hiding his features and the fact he was slightly rolling his eyes. "They both literally just got out of relationships, I don't think they're interested."

"But they both ended them so it's not like they've been broken up with," she insisted. "I'm sure they'll get over it quickly enough."

"Yeah I agree with Vic," Damiano added. "It's not like either of them seems all that heartbroken."

"Exactly, which is why we need to act now!"

"I still don't think it's a good idea," Ethan sighed. "Just let them figure it out on their own."

"But they're idiots! They'll never figure it out!"

Damiano couldn't help laugh out loud. He knew his friend was onto something, both Thomas and Y/n tended to be hilariously oblivious when it came to things like these.

"Maybe they just need a little push," he agreed.

"Fine." A deep sigh escaped Ethan. "But don't say I didn't warn you if it doesn't work out."

***

The moment you stepped into the vintage second-hand store you decided it was heaven on earth. It didn't take long for you to sweep through the place like a whirlwind, picking up pieces left and right, leaving Victoria and Thomas standing at the entrance still. You didn't care, this was one of your favourite places and you were not going to be held back because those two were slow. You tried on a dress that looked like an absolute mess on you and you quickly took a picture to laugh at later with the others, before trying on some trousers that you really took a liking to. You were still in them, trying to figure out if you had also grabbed a top that would match when someone knocked on the wood of the changing room. Confused and not certain if the noise was directed at you, you pulled back the curtain to come face to face with Thomas. He noticed you were in your bra before you did.

You raised your eyebrows, overly amused at how he was nervously looking around to figure out if anyone else would be able to see her, but no one seemed to be around. As he turned back, he tried not to let his gaze fall into her chest again, but failed miserably. You laughed heartily, "It's fine, stop blushing, Thomas."

He grinned, more relaxed not that he knew you didn't mind. He shouldn't, this being far from the first time he'd seen you like this.

"Vic told me to give you this dress to try on."

You looked at the piece of fabric he handed you, a gorgeous, velvety black, knee-high dress with a dangerous slit and a plunging neckline. It wasn't something you would have chosen yourself, but you trusted Vic's judgment. The curtain was quickly closed again, removing the trousers you had already decided on and slipped on the dress. It fell in a much nicer way than you had anticipated, easily smoothing itself over your curves and settling perfectly in place. The mirror agreed with your sentiment - you looked gorgeous. Okay, so this dress would do with a bit more makeup and without a bra, but it was a no-brainer that you were going to buy it.

You ripped open the curtain, now facing both of your friends. As soon as Vic saw you, she seemed as smitten with it as you were. Thomas looked stunned in his own way but stayed quiet.

"Fuck, I knew that was your dress!" Victoria shouted, obviously proud of herself for picking it out.

"Where am I ever going to wear this?" You asked, spinning to muster your reflection once again.

"When I take you out tomorrow night," Vic grinned. "There's a gorgeous new restaurant in town but it's fancy fancy, so this will do just fine."

You couldn't help but squint your eyes at her through the mirror. Her suggestion sounded just fine, but the way her eyes flickered made you feel like there was something more to the story.

***

"Wait, so how will you going out with her to dinner help, exactly?"

"Oh, Damiano, stop being so dumb. Obviously, I won't go."

"I don't get it."

"I'll have some sort of last-minute emergency, and since both of you will be out of the house, Thomas will have to step in."

Ethan sighed, shaking his head at his friend's plan.

"Why do you have to meddle so much, Vic?"

"Because those two don't get it. But once they see each other all dressed up, romantic dinner, candles, good wine, it'll click."

"Whatever you say."

***

"Oh my god, Y/n, I'm so sorry!" Victoria burst into your room, Chili cradled in her arms and an apologetic look on her face. "I know we said we'd go to that fancy restaurant tonight, but Chili's been coughing and the vet told me to come in immediately."

You side-eyed the little white dog, looking as happy as can be, but there was no reason for you not to trust Victoria. Right? You briefly petted Chili's head.

"Don't worry about it, we can always go some other time."

"No!" Her outburst surprised you. "I mean, it's so difficult to get a reservation there and you should wear your dress out. Damiano and Ethan are out, but I'm pretty sure Thomas is free, please ask him, he'd probably love to go with you!"

You wanted to scold Victoria, tell her this wasn't happening, tell her you'd be fine just staying home, but she didn't give you a chance to do any of it. Instead, she left your room, immediately shouting for her bandmate. It was the reason you found yourself at a candlelit dinner with the blond man mere hours later.

"You look amazing, by the way," Thomas said. Well, he actually kind of mumbled it into his pasta rather than proudly state it. You felt like blushing.

"So do you, love. But you know I love you in a suit."

Your eyes met, just for a moment, before both of you found yourselves awkwardly staring back at your plates again. You didn't know why you were behaving like this, or why he was, you could only attribute it to the fact that this felt like an overly romantic date and the waiter had referred to you as his girlfriend multiple times already. Neither of you had corrected him. You hadn't minded the single rose that had been placed between you on the table, accompanied by a little wink and a smile by the waiter.

"You know, you make a lousy boyfriend, not even bringing me flowers for our date, " you teased, watching as a shy smile appeared on Thomas' face, his eyes travelling down the table for a second before looking at you again with more than a twinkle.

"I did take you to the nicest restaurant in town, surely that gets me some points?"

The giggle bubbled over your lips easily. Everything came easy with Thomas. He made the troubles disappear with one look, one touch of a hand, a single word, a gesture, his existence. He was your own personal cure to everything.

***

"No, I'm telling you, it worked," Victoria excitedly gasped and she gathered in the kitchen with Damiano and Ethan, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible. "You should have seen them when they came back!"

"Did you actually wait up for them?" Ethan asked, slightly disbelieving, slightly amused.

"Well, they didn't know obviously! I just cracked my bedroom door open a bit. But they were all giggly and happy and they hugged when they said goodnight!"

"Vic, we all hug all the time," Damiano threw in.

"Not the way they did. I'm serious, this is working and you'll see soon enough!"

"So what's the next idea then?"

"I'm... I'm not quite sure," she admitted. "But I'll figure it out and it'll be perfect."

***

The thunderstorm hadn't been predicted by any of the weather channels. You found yourself standing in front of the patio doors with Thomas, watching the heavy rain disturb the surface or the pool, trees swaying in the wind, a flash of light illuminating the garden in regular intervals. It had only been the two of you home when it had started, everyone else out to meet friends or sitting in a bar with a drink in their hand. You had been having a lazy day, unwilling to leave the house at all, while Thomas had slept for so long no one had bothered trying to wake him so he could join in on plans.

"Do you want to compare our favourite records?"

You had been so focused on the happenings outside of the glass that you almost flinched in surprise at his question. Still, a slight smile, the right kind of look, and you were nodding enthusiastically. Hasting up the stairs, barefoot and in nothing but shorts and the shirt you usually slept in, you went through the little collection you had brought to the summer house, already hearing the first notes of Led Zeppelin's Black Dog echoing downstairs. With a smile on your face, you grabbed a few records and bolted back down to Thomas.

"I still prefer Led Zeppelin III," you giggled, only to be greeted with Thomas' shocked face. "Anything that has Immigrant Song on it is a hit, really."

"Blasphemy! Nothing tops IV, and you clearly have no taste."

"You clearly have no taste considering you think anything Led Zeppelin has put out is better than Fleetwood Mac's Rumours." You barely waited for the first song of Thomas' album of choice to finish playing before interrupting it with the sound of Second Hand News.

It didn't take long for the conversation to get heated. Still, you kept playing your record in the background, effortlessly dodging his effort to change it, even though the whole thing had been his idea in the first place. He was still complaining, explaining, talking to a wall basically, as you danced around the living room, as the music flowed through you, singing along, thunder only happens when it's raining, as the weather outside did its worst.

"I just think it's much too sad, most of it," Thomas finally concluded.

"Doesn't that just make it so beautiful though?"

"No, it just makes me sad," he pouted.

"Maybe you just never listened to it the way you should. In the arms of someone you love."

A heartbeat passed as both of you looked at each other, but then your smile returned and you motioned for him to get on the sofa with you, lying on your side as he slowly but surely moved in front of you. Your arms wrapped around him, spooning him, making you feel safer than you ever have as Songbird played in quiet tones.

Your nose buried itself in his hair, letting his smell fill your every pore, taking over your whole being as you pressed into him, singing along in nothing but a whisper.

"And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before."

***

"Guys, guys, guys, look at that!" Victoria called out to her friends as they quietly made their way into the house. "I knew it would be such a good idea to leave them alone in the house!"

"Vic, it's not like you made a thunderstorm come along, I'm pretty sure this was not your doing for once," Damiano whispered.

"Doesn't matter! Look at them spooning! We're on the right way, guys!"

"We're not on any way," Ethan threw in. "You keep trying to meddle and the two of them are going their own ways."

"They just need another push. I just gotta think of something."

***

"Hey, they let you feed the goats here!" Victoria squealed as everyone around her let out a groan. The zoo was bustling with people, the five friends surrounded by families, and Vic easily fell in line with the children's excitement.

"Vic, I really really don't like goats," you complained. "I'd rather not get their attention because I got food in my hands."

"Fine. How about you go see the owls over there with... Thomas, and I go feed some adorable goats with Ethan and Damiano?"

The both of you allowed yourselves to be pushed away easily, chuckles on your faces as you walked away from the rest of the group, dodging running toddlers as you went.

"So, this is a set-up, huh?" Thomas grinned next to you as his arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer.

"Oh, as if Victoria has been doing anything these past weeks without hidden intentions." You let yourself mold into Thomas' side, leaning in closer until your bodies were touching as much as physically possible. "She's not half as subtle about this as she thinks. I'm sure she's watching right now."

You didn't turn around, but you felt her eyes on the pair of you, watching your every move and trying to figure out what was going on between the two of you.

"Do you wanna give her a show?" You playfully pinched his site, looking at him from the corner of your eyes just to see a smile appear on his face that was surely mirroring yours. "Make out a little bit?"

"Wouldn't that give it away?" He stopped walking, now wrapping both of his arms around you as you leaned on his chest, looking up at him.

"I'm sure she'd still think it's just a first step in the right direction."

Not waiting for his response, your hand reached up to his face, slowly stroking along the soft skin of his cheek, thumb running over his lower lip as his smile grew, then reaching around, tangling them into his hair and pulling him down to you. His lips met yours in a sigh, warm and lovely, a tingling feeling spreading through you immediately, pressing yourself into him. You could feel his thumb stroking your back ever so slightly as he held you. He wanted more, slowly moving his lips, trying to deepen the kiss, but you pulled away. Close enough to still feel his breath on you, close enough that whispering would be enough.

"Now, we don't want Vic to figure it all out immediately," you grinned before putting more distance between the two of you. He groaned, making you giggle, before taking your hand and pulling you along.

"How much longer are you planning to keep this up?" Thomas asked, shaking his head, but still amused. "We've been together for two weeks."

"Pretty sure she already bought tickets for the cinema for me and her for Wednesday... which she'll inexplicably have no time for so you'll have to come along, obviously. I can give you a hickey in the dark theater, she'll freak."

Thomas laughed out loud, pressing a single kiss to the top of your head.

"Fine. One more date, that's it?"

"One more date."

#maneskin fiction #thomas raggi imagine #thomas raggi fiction #thomas raggi x you #thomas raggi x reader #thomas raggi fluff #maneskin fluff #maneskin imagine #maneskin x you #maneskin x reader #mywriting #fluff

300 notes · View notes

l-r-christian · 3 years

Note

Ok I LOVE YOUR FICS!!! Ahhh they are so good! Could you do an Elijah x reader where he gets jealous or something like that I just need that fluff at the end 😭😭 you can change some things if you think they dont fit but yeah! I dont wanna be too picky :) btw your last fics have been so good!

Nooo I am not worthy of such praise 💓 thank you. Jealous Elijah also one of my top things to write about.

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Vampire!F!Reader Niklaus Mikaelson x Oc

Warnings: fluff, Elijah maybe killing someone

Jealousy was a rare thing Elijah felt as he never really had anything to be jealous of but now he did. A young vampire was flirting with Y/N, his beautiful little wife, she was giving the leech sweet little smiles and giggling ever once in awhile.

"Never thought I would see the day Elijah Mikaelson be jealous." Elijah heard a sweet voice say and he looked seeing Lena, Klaus's soon to be wife.

"Non sense Lena." Elijah said as the female vampire smirked leaning over the couch as she was bored of this party Klaus was throwing to celebrate his engagement to the vampire.

"Come on Eli. I have known you for over 400 years, babe I know everything about you." Lena said looking over at Y/N and the vampire flirting with her then at Elijah seeing the dark glint his eyes.

"I am aware and I am telling you I am not jealous."

"Babe, you got this predatory glare set on your face. If we were younger vamps I would swear you were going to kill the baby vamp." Lena said as Elijah coughed looking away then back to his wife and baby vamp.

"Lena, do you know who he is?" Elijah asked his eyes darken even more as all self control he had was slipping whe the vampire touched Y/N's bare lower back.

"Yeah, Garrett. One of Marcel's guys, Nik broke the guy's leg last weekend when he hit on me." Lena tells Elijah sighing remembering that night as Klaus rocked her world that night. Lena open her eyes to find Elijah gone and headed over to Garrett and Y/N like a predator.

"Hey wolfbabe some blood is about to be spilled." Lena said smirking as Klaus looked over at Elijah while he was talking to Rebekah and saw Elijah walking to the bar. Both Rebekah and Klaus sighed hoping that Elijah won't kill the baby vampire.

"My darling, you look stunning." Elijah said lowly smacking Garrett's hand from his wife's back to replace it with his. Y/N smiled brightly up at her husband then squeaking when he suddenly leaned down kissing her hungrily. He pulled away cupping her cheek rubbing her now swollen bottom lip as Garrett was shocked unaware Y/N was Elijah's wife as Elijah held her close with a predatory glit in his eye.

"Didn't know you were Elijah Mikaelson's wife." Garrett said leaning toward Y/N not feeling threatened by Elijah as he was still in to the Original's wife.

"I made no secret that was married." Y/N said showing her wedding ring as Elijah growled lowly when Garrett took her hand kissing the ring.

"I don't mind if Elijah is willing to share. I would love to see what is under the gorgeous dress." Garrett said kissing Y/N's wrist as Y/N turned red as this made Elijah snap and suddenly Garrett was against a wall with Elijah's hand around his throat. People moved away a bit scared of the angry Original as there was nothing more terrifying than when the noble stag was angry and willing to kill.

"Haven't seen him that angry in centuries." Lena said standing next to Y/N who felt a little flushed seeing her husband act like this.

"Lena, he had acted this why before?"

"Yeah but not this pissed. Then again Elijah worships you." Lena told the younger vampire as Klaus tried to calm Elijah as Garrett just smirked. Elijah pulled away then went to whisk his wife away.

"Elijah, you know I won't leave you yes." Y/N said as Elijah held her close after putting on her favorite jazz record on the record player.

"I am aware baby but doesn't mean those should be allowed to touch what's mine." Elijah said swaying with her as Y/N laughed lightly laying her head on his chest as she was taken back to the 20s in that jazz bar where they promised forever.

"My sweet husband, the only one allow to me is those who are worthy." Y/N teased Elijah as he smiled down at his wife.

"Am I worthly?" Elijah teased back as Y/N smirked pulling him down by his tie.

"Come and find out." Y/N whispered as Elijah kissed her while she smiled into the kiss as Elijah swayed with her.

"Next time try not to almost kill someone."

"No promises baby."

#L.R writes #elijah mikaelson x reader #Klaus mikaelson x oc #elijah x reader #elijah mikaelson fluff #the originals x reader

276 notes · View notes

obnoxiousgremlin · 3 years

Text

The Proposal , Lets fall in love for the night [o.w]

A/N- The reader is 19 and Oliver is 20. He’s already been recruited to a team for quid ditch while the reader finishes their last year of hogwarts. This is a non-voldemort a/u.

Warnings- just fluff, super cute fluff.

y/n-your name

y/m/n-your middle name

y/l/n-your last name

“Can i take my blindfold off now?” you whine. It was your five-year anniversary with Oliver and he had a whole thing planned out, from the entire day down till your outfit. You hadn’t seen him all day and he left you nothing but a note in your dorm telling you to slip on the white dress and matching silver heels in the box [whatever you say the man had good taste] he left and meet him outside the common room at 5pm. Once you were ready you went and were met with Fred, who proceeded to blindfold you and take you to Oliver so you knew absolutely nothing. And that’s how you found yourself in his position, hand in hand with none other than Oliver himself blindfolded walking to god knows where.

“Not just yet, darling.” he chuckled , carefully guiding you.

“I love you Oliver , but if I have to wear this for one minute longer we are over.” You didn’t mean it, of course you didn’t mean it but you needed that blindfold off.

He chuckled again , “Almost there love-” taking a short pause, “- okay, we’re here now.” He proceeded to take you blindfold off but not before a song started playing. “lets fall in love for tonight and forget in the morning-” you gasped when the blindfold came off, taking in your surroundings. You were standing on the bridge where you had first kissed him, yes you because even oliver who was super confident was way too nervous to actually make a move on you. This same bridge shared all your big moments, its where he first asked you out, its where you first told him you loved him, the feeling was mutual of course. He had somehow managed to cover the gorgeous light wood railings of the tiny bridge in white fairy lights, illuminating the place. You turned around to oliver who was dressed in a white button up and black formal trousers and kissed him. You grabbed his face and kissed him. He was startled but kissed you back immediately. You broke the kiss and touched your forehead to his “This is gorgeous babe, i love it.”

He chuckled and said, “your squishing the flowers darling.”

“Oh. Shit-” you stepped back and looked down embarrassed , “-sorry.”

“Don’t be.” he handed you your favourite flowers [a/n- my favourite flowers are white roses, so that's what im basing this on but feel free to picture your own!], and kissed you again.

He bowed down dramatically, “May I have this dance , your grace.” He said referring to Bridgerton ,the show you two had finished a week ago after which you had taken to calling each other your grace, thinking it was funny.

You bowed back. “You may, your grace.” you said chuckling. And there the two of you were dancing on the bridge to finneas sing. It was your song, yours and olivers. You rested your head on his chest and he swayed. He turned you around, your back to his front and you hummed. His warmth seeping into you. Suddenly, he stepped back and you whined, he chuckled once again, “Just a minute, love.” and you hummed in response leaning against the railings of the bridge admiring the view of the water and the purple sky. Autumn was setting in and you couldn't be happier.

He came back and handed you a glass of rose champagne leaning next to you with his hand on your waist. You both took and sip and you hummed to the wonderful taste. After a couple of minutes , he cleared his throat and you looked at him.

He took your hand and took a couple steps back. He seemed a little nervous but then looked at you. Clearing his throat again he said , “ Okay, so i had a whole speech prepared and i was going to say a lot of things, i can't remember anything right now. So, im just gonna say something and hope it comes out right -” you interrupted him before he could say anything ,”Oliver?”

He lifted a hand so as to shush you and continued, ”Darling, I love you. I love you so much that I can't explain it. I love going to sleep right next to you and i love waking up next to you. I love your laugh and i love your voice and i love you. You take my breath away.I think i might love you more than qudditch, actually no, i dont think, I know that I love you more than quidditch. Every time i look at you, i want to be near you. I want to spend my entire life with you. I want to build a future with you. I want to take every next breath with you, i want to grow old and grey with you.-” He took a deep breath , by this time you already had tears in your eyes anticipating what was happening. He continues,” - And I- and i- It is one thing to meet a beautiful woman but to meet your best friend in the most beautiful of women is something entirely apart.” He grinned referencing to Simon’s speech about Daphne in Bridgerton making you laugh. He took another deep breath , “ When i first started playing, i didnt think i would ever experience anything that would ever compare to how i felt when i picked up the broom. I never thought i would find love because quid ditch was my entire world and then there was you, equally as fast. Equally as cunning, equally as sharp as me on the broom. Thats when i knew i loved you, when i first saw you on that broom.I knew then that nothing mattered as long as i had you. That even if i didnt have quidditch and i had you everything in the world would be okay. y/n y/m/n y/l/n , will you do me honour of marrying me, of becoming Mrs. Oliver Wood and being with me for the rest of my life?” At some point he had sat down on one knee and was now looking up at you holding out a gorgeous engagement ring.

You wanted to play with him and say no but the emotions of the entire ordeal had completely overtaken you and you ended up saying ,“yes, yes, yes ,yes, yes i’ll marry you.” He picked you up and spinned you not before placing the ring on your delicate finger, huh that's why Angelina wanted to get her nails done with you. After placing you on your feet he kissed you. “Really? You want to marry me?” he asked resting his forehead against yours. “Of course i want to marry you dumbass , and even if i didnt after that speech who could refuse.” you chuckled and he joined you.

After a couple of moments of staying like that you took a deep breath, “I guess this would be the perfect time to tell you that im pregnant?” you said looking into his eyes. The second you finished that sentence fireworks burst around you. You looked up in awe but only for a second before oliver turned your face to him, he eyes glowing .”Your pregnant?” and you nodded. “I’m going to be a dad?” he asked again.

“Mhm, i found out this morning. I guess that's what you get for making your girlfriend, well now fiancee pregnant baby” you said laughing at him. He grinned before jumping up and down. He stopped and kissed you, his hands going to your belly. “This is the best day ever, the most perfect, goddess-like woman agreed to be my wife and im having a baby!” his excitement had you laughing.

After a moment you said, “So about those fireworks-” he looked down sheepishly, you smacked his chest “-Oliver how many people did you tell?” you said feigning accusation. “might've told everyone in the castle.” he mumbled under his breath. “OLIVER-” he broke you off before kissing you again.

You broke the kiss ,”that was a good way of shutting me up, love.” he chuckled, ”I know, can’t wait to use it a lot more when i finally marry you.”

As you two headed back to the castle , finneas remained singing ,”lets fall in love for the night.”

a/n-i hope you liked this, its my very first time doing something like this. Also i know the ending is kind of crappy but i can't think anything else.

*Do not post my stuff anywhere*

ignore tags-

189 notes · View notes

nagito-kissmaeda · 3 years

Text

Mr. Komaeda’s Lesson

THE FILTH ARRIVES

Summary: You should really proofread your assignments before submitting them... AKA: Professor Komaeda fucks you over his desk (literally my dream) Word count: 4258 Contains: she/her pronouns, explict sexual content, unsafe sex, professor/student relationships, gentle dom nagito (he’s very gentle i swear) Read on AO3 ミ☆ Please send me a DM or an ask if you’d like me to write something for you!

The soothing smell of camomile lemon tea wafts around the small office. The blinds are half open, casting the orange light of the setting sun across the smooth leaves of a peace lily that resides in a pot hanging in front of the heating unit. The warm air rocks it gently back and forth. The atmosphere in the room is light and pleasant, but it does nothing to ease your nerves.

“Do you want some?” Professor Komaeda asks as he pours himself a cup of the aforementioned camomile lemon tea. He has a little teapot sitting on his desk, it’s very cute.

You clear your throat, fidgeting in your seat, “No thank you, I’m fine.”

“Okay, let’s get started then, shall we?”

You’ve been dreading this meeting for weeks now. Your professor had been very insistent that this wouldn’t be a discussion about the quality of your work, but more about what he could do to help you maintain focus in lectures. There was also a brief mention about your most recent assignment, he said that he wasn’t concerned, but did want to run through a few things with you.

He was very polite about it, which makes the true nature of your distraction only more reprehensible.

“So, first I want to start with a simple question. How are you doing?”

“Uh, fine?”

He nods and takes a sip of his tea, “No problems outside of our classes? You don’t need to answer if you aren’t comfortable.”

“No i- uh. I’m fine outside of classes too.” You fidget again, twisting your hands in your lap, “I’ve been...tired? But that’s my fault, I stay up too late.”

He hums thoughtfully and rests his chin on the palm of his hand, “Could that be having an affect on your focus? I can see that you have been distracted in our most recent lectures and just want to make sure it isn’t a fault of myself or my material.” He laughs a little to himself, “I know I can be a little boring sometimes.”

Professor Komaeda is not boring. He’s probably the most engaging lecturer you’ve ever had, passionate about his subject matter and very enthusiastic about class participation. He also wears really tight trousers and has long dexterous fingers that you can't help imagining inside of your-

“I mean, being tired could be the problem?” A bold faced lie.

“Well in that case there isn’t much more I can suggest than a good night's rest.” He gives you a long look that makes you squirm in your seat, “I only graduated a few years ago myself, I understand the urge to make the most of your day, but you can’t keep burning the candle at both ends.” He takes another sip of his tea, a drop misses his mouth and rolls down his chin. He catches it with his thumb, which he then brings up to his lips and sucks. You swallow deeply, tearing your eyes from where his lips are meeting his skin. Your knee starts bouncing. Nerves.

“Would it help if you sat a little closer to the front of the lecture hall?”

It wouldn’t. Especially not on warm days when he loosens his tie and undoes the first three buttons on his shirt. You spent a whole lecture transfixed on the dip of his collarbones once. Not great for your note taking, “maybe I’ll give that a go next week” you say. Another lie.

“Okay, try that out and let me know if it helps.” He gently sets down his teacup and starts working his white hair up into a bun. His fingers are so delicate as he combs through the strands, pulling his hair up and away from his pale throat, exposing the length of it to your hungry eyes-

A noise escapes from your mouth. Almost a whine, but not quite. Professor Komaeda doesn't say anything, but his intense eyes meet yours for just a moment. You clench your thighs together.

“Are you ready to talk about your assignment now?” He asks, picking the teacup again. It’s decorated with sunflowers, almost criminally cute, “No reason to be nervous. I want to make it clear that this matter hasn't had any affect on your grade, just some advice for next time.”

You nod shakily. Despite all of his reassurances, you are still very nervous. Partially because you wanted a good grade, partially because you had worked on that essay day and night with the intention of impressing him. So stupid.

He gives you a pleasant smile and rifles through his desk for a moment, pulling out what you quickly recognise as a printed copy of your essay, “Take a look, i want to see if you can figure it out first.”

“Um...okay…” You skip past the title page and into the meat of the essay, reading through all of your points and making sure there weren't any obvious spelling mistakes. There wasn't anything that you could see, “Sorry...um...what page is it on?”

His teacup clinks when he sets it down again, leaning forward on his elbows and resting his chin on his hands. You can feel your heart fluttering in your chest, your palms are getting sweaty, “It’s on the title page actually. I’m surprised you didn't notice it.”

You shoot him a quizzical look and flip back to the first page. Your stomach plummets.

Titles have never been your thing, summing up an entire essay in just a few words isn’t easy, so you usually use a placeholder right up until you submit it. You remember changing it, you remember triple checking it was changed before you emailed it through. But something must have gone wrong because in big bold capital letters, the title of you assignment reads:

ESSAY SO GOOD PROFESSOR KOMAEDA WILL FUCK ME OVER HIS DESK

Your hands are shaking, the edges of the paper crinkling under your tight grip. You are going to fail...you are going to be expelled...you are going to-

“Ah. I see you’ve realised your mistake, hm?”

Your head shoots up, forgetting for a moment that he is still sitting across from you.

“Professor...I-I’m...obviously I’m…” you can’t get out a goddamn sentence, your mouth has all dried up, “I don’t even...I can’t…”

You are taken aback, when Professor Komaeda giggles. It’s a light little sound, he covers his mouth with a hand, “You are very bold, aren’t you?”

“I….”

“No need to worry, I’m not reporting this to the dean or anything like that. I see no reason to expel you over a silly little mistake like this one.”

“You...You dont want me to drop you class?”

He laughs again, you shrink under the intensity of his green eyes, “I’m not going to make you, no. If the situation isn’t going to make it even harder for you to focus during lectures, you can still come to class. I won't stop you, it is your choice.”

He is being remarkably cavalier about all of this, it’s almost unsettling, but you don't want to drop his class so you can't help being grateful, “Thank you so much, I...I promise i won't do this again.”

Professor Komaeda hums aloud, eyes half lidded as he looks at you from across the desk, “Won’t do what again?” he asks, though honestly its more of a purr, “Won’t think about me fucking you, or wont make the mistake of writing it down?”

Hearing the word fuck drop from that perfect mouth of his sends you into overdrive. Your thighs are clamped so tight together that your legs are shaking, you can feel yourself breathing hard, “I...uh...I....” you swallow, “I won't do...either?”

“There's no need to lie to me.” He breathes, standing up from his chair and rounding the desk. You can feel yourself quivering in his shadow, he towers over you. Your breath catches in your throat when one of his hands makes contact with your chin, slowly lifting your head up until you meet his eyes. His expression is positively hungry, “I want to make something very clear. This is your chance to leave, if you do we will never speak of this again. If you don’t, well…”

All you can do is stare at him, mouth going dry with realisation.

“Your essay was very good, by the way.” He leans down until his nose is almost pressed against yours, you can smell the tea on his breath. You can feel the warmth of his skin, you can count his eyelashes, “Good enough that i’ll fuck you over my desk if you still want me to.”

In a moment of hungry lucidity, you grab him by the tie and tug his lips down to yours. Colliding in a positively ferocious kiss. You feel him laugh against your mouth before he slips his tongue in between your lips and traces your upper row of teeth, his tongue is wet and warm, your thighs are rubbing together as you grow desperate for any sort of friction. Professor Komaeda must be in a similar state, because he grabs you by the waist and tugs you up to your feet. Pressed firmly against him like this, you can feel the evidence of his arousal through his slacks, a moan escapes you when you feel his hips buck.

He laughs again, pulling away from your mouth to press a hot kiss to the side of your throat. You feel his long fingers toying with the hemline of your skirt, slowly slipping up underneath it, “These pretty little things…” he whispers, tugging on the top of your thigh high stocking and releasing it with a snap, “do you wear them for me?”

There’s no point lying anymore. You can’t stop shaking, “I...yes…”

You feel him moan against your skin, sinking his teeth into the join between your neck and shoulder, “Did you really think I wouldn’t take notice? Of the way you undress me with your eyes in class, of these tiny little skirts you started wearing?” He grabs a handful of your ass and you squeal, “you’re so gorgeous. You could have anyone in that class if you wanted, but here you are with me-“ he grinds up against you, cock warm and hard through his slacks, “-I don’t understand what I’ve done to deserve this.”

His voice is so soft and gentle, even while he’s palming your ass and grinding his hips against yours, he still talks like he’s giving a lecture on historical literature. It’s hot, how easily he is able to maintain his composure while you are little more than a quivering mess beneath him, but still...you want to see him come undone.

You hear more than feel your knees colliding with the wooden floorboards. Professor Komaeda is unable to give little more than a surprised look before you have his slacks and boxers shoved halfway down his thighs and his cock in your mouth. He lets out a shocked little moan, burying his long fingers into your hair as his hips stutter forward. Now that was the reaction you wanted.

“Oh...ohhhh-“ he whines, slowly moving himself in and out of your mouth as you tease his head with your tongue, “ahh...your mouth feels so good, angel.”

You were not expecting him to call you angel. It’s like a bolt of lightning to your cunt, your hands jump up the dig deep into the meat of his thighs as you moan downright salaciously around his cock.

“I can feel you moaning.” He whispers, “I can’t believe how much you’re enjoying this” you look up at him through your lashes and see his cheeks are red, his perfect lips are swollen from his biting them incessantly. You moan again just from the sight of him, he hisses and his hips cant forward deeper into your mouth, “wow. You...You really like doing this don’t you? Wrapping your perfect soft lips around my filthy cock?”

Filthy? That makes your eyebrows jump. You could always tell that your professor had some sort of inferiority complex, but you didn't realise it was...this intense.

“S’pretty.” You managed to slur around him, “Tastes good.”

He laughs again, it explodes from his mouth and shakes his shoulders. Unbridled, almost wild. He grins down at you, “I’m sure it doesn’t taste as good at you.” He purrs, tucking your hair behind your ear, “get up on the desk.”

Well, you weren’t going to say no to that. You give his cock one last long lick before standing back up from the floor, just before you hoist yourself up on the table, Professor Komaeda grabs you by the wrist, “Panties off, please.”

You feel yourself turn crimson, but dutifully shimmy out of your panties and let them drop to the floor. He smiles at you, hands curling around your waist as he leans into your ear, “that’s my girl.” He whispers, and lifts you up onto his desk. His hands are cold on the bare skin of your thighs peeking out from the top of your stockings, your stomach twists and curls as he slowly edges your legs open, and drops to his knees between them.

“Oh my god…” you squeak, he’s staring up at you with a look that is downright sinful and he doesn’t break eye contact, even when one of those perfect fingers slips inside you, “agh!”

He chuckles warmly, gently thrusting his finger in and out of you, “you’re so wet, angel...I can’t imagine why someone like me is making you so aroused, but I’m not complaining.”

His finger curls inside of you, and your hips jolt, “Mmph! Pro-Professor I-“

He smiles saccharinely as a second finger pushes its way inside you, “Nagito.” He corrects, pressing a hot kiss to the inside of your thigh, “We’re well beyond the need for formality. Don’t you think?” You cover your mouth to muffle a squeal as he adds a third finger. Your knees are wobbling and you can barely breathe, he’s just sitting between your legs and grinning at you, “Now let’s see if you taste as good as i imagine, hm?”

He pulls your clit in between his lips and sucks. You have to bite down on your hand to keep yourself from screaming, “F-Fuck...Nagito...I--hng!”

“It is after hours, you know.” He whispers, you can feel his breath on your cunt and you shiver, “There’s no reason for you to restrain yourself.” He licks your clit again and moans, “Haa...It may be selfish of me, but i want to hear you. If you’ll let me.”

“Oh god-” You hiss out when his tongue starts circling around you, “-keep doing that, and you’ll hear me alright.”

Nagito giggles and peers up at you, “Then I suppose I'll get back to work.” He hoists your thighs over his shoulders, and starts eating you out in earnest. You lean back on your elbows, and watch his soft white hair bob between your thighs as his tongue works it’s magic, he alternates between running the flat of his tongue up the length of you and focussing directly on your clit. Your toes are curling, mouth wide open with a constant stream of moans and whimpers that you have no hope of stopping. It feels so good, you had dreamt about this alone at night in your bed and even in those fantasies it hadn't felt this good.

His fingers slip out of you, but before you even have a chance to complain, they are replaced with his tongue. You moan so loudly that it rumbles through your chest, your hips rise up to meet his mouth and his hands curl around the soft flesh of your thighs, tugging you even closer. He groans. The wet muscle is slowly thrusting in and out of you when he presses down firm on your clit with his thumb, “I--mmph...Nagito m’gonna cum…” your hips are grinding relentlessly up against his face and you can feel your hair sticking to your forehead with sweat.

“Cum for me, angel.” He whispers, thumb rubbing your clit in brutal circles, “I want to feel you squeezing around my tongue.”

You throw your head back in a howl as his tongue slips back inside, the desk rattling with the force of your quivering hips. You can hear the slick sounds his mouth is making against your cunt, the way he is panting and moaning just from the taste of you. The tightness in your stomach grows unbearable, then he curls his tongue upward, and it snaps. You see whiteness behind your eyes, thighs shaking with the intensity of it. You can feel the vibration of Nagito’s moan inside of you and his fingers dig tight into the meat of your thighs. He’s enjoying your orgasm almost as much as you are.

When he finally pulls away from you, the lower half of his face is glistening with your wetness. He gives you a pleased smile, eyes half lidded as he brings his wet fingers up to his mouth and licks them clean, “I knew you would taste good.” He whispers, wiping the mouth with the back of his hand, “Think you can cum again, angel?”

Just watching him suck on his fingers is enough to get you going again, “Yeah, I definitely can.”

He laughs and stands up from the floor. His cock is flushed red and dripping, you suddenly realise he hadn't touched it that whole time, he must be painfully hard at this point. You lick your lips, you can't help it. He follows your line of sight and smiles, “Be a good girl and bend over the desk for me, please.”

You slide down off the desk, ready to follow his orders but quickly stop yourself, “Oh. One second.”

“Hm?”

You grab the teapot from the desk and quickly rest it on the windowsill, “Sorry. That was a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Ah, yes. You’re right.” His hand slips up to your cheek, thumb resting on your lips. He smiles when you pull it into your mouth and suck, “I’ll have to thank you for saving my carpet. Unless you see any other hazards, i would still like to fuck you.”

That word again. It sounds doubly filthy when he says it, the way his lips mold around it is downright sinful. A shaky moan drops from your mouth as you turn around and do as he asks, your breasts are squished up against the sturdy wood, and the desk is a little too tall for you, your feet are dangling just above the floor. You’re shaking with anticpation, and it grows even worse when you feel the warmth of Nagito’s palm caressing your ass, “For my own peace of mind…” he whispers, his other hand running a finger up the length of your sex, “When do you graduate?”

You laugh, “It’s a little late for that, isn't it, Professor?” you feel his hand still on your ass and you clear your throat, “Uh, this is my last semester. A few months.”

He sighs pleasantly, “Ah, that’s good. This has been very fun, though i'm not sure we should do it again.” You feel the head of his cock kiss your entrance and hiss through your teeth, “At least...not for a few months.” You can hear the smirk on his face.

“I’ve waited this long.” You say, grinding backwards into his cock, “I can wait again.”

He leans down until his mouth is right beside your ear, “Good girl.” He whispers, and finally thrusts inside of you. It feels so good, he fills you so well. Your cheek is pressed firmly against the hard wood of the desk and a pathetic little mewl escapes your mouth at the feeling. You cunt already dripping from your last orgasm, you take him so easily, so smoothly. It feels like he is meant to be inside you.

You feel a hand on your lower back, pushing you further down onto the desk and Nagito hisses through his teeth. Pumping slowly and deeply inside of you, like he is savoring it, “You’re doing so well, angel. I--fuck...You’re so warm.” his breathing is laboured, the rhythmic sound of his hips hitting your ass is echoing around the room, “I still can’t believe you’re letting me do this to you. I must be the luckiest man alive.”

“Please...more!” you whine, trying to force him deeper inside of you with the movement of your hips.

Nagito lets out a strangled moan and starts pounding faster, one of his hands slipping down between your legs to circle your clit, you cry out at the extra stimulation, toes curling inside of your shoes. The desk is shaking with the force of his thrusts now, there's a cute little statuette of a frog that falls down to the carpet with a clatter, but he doesn't stop.

“You feel so good, darling...I--I don't think i can-” a groan rips through him and you can feel his thrusts growing sloppier, “-you’re so good for...so perfect...I can't hold--ah ahh” he swallows, “Please, angel, i want to feel you cum again.”

You’re close, mouth raw from panting and moaning, legs going numb from behind suspended in the air. Then, the finger on your clit presses down firm and his cock grinds up against your g-spot. That is all you need, you come unraveling under him, the walls of your cunt clenching impossibly tight around him.

“Ah, yes!” He cries, grabbing your hips and pounding you desperately, relishing in the feeling of your hot, tight cunt. Milking him dry, “Good, girl. So good for me.” Then, he cums, you feel his cock throb deep inside of you as his hips stutter and slow.

It is only now that you are hit with the realisation. You just fucked Professor Komaeda. Holy hell.

All you can do is lay there while he slowly pulls himself out of you. Wincing a little at the wierd feeling of emptyness. You manage to roll yourself over, laying flat on your back with your legs still dangling from the desk. Nagito laughs and presses a kiss to your cheek, “Are you alright?”

You laugh weakly, “We’re going to get in so much trouble.”

“Not if no one finds out.” He tucks some of your hair behinf your ear, “Don’t worry about it, I’m very lucky with this sort of thing.”

“I just dont want you to get in trouble.”

He giggles, “That’s very kind of you, but this was as much my choice as it was yours.” he runs his fingers down your cheek and gives you a gentle kiss on your lips, “I meant what i said, about meeting up again.”

You manage to pull yourself up until you are sitting upright, you give him a sleepy smile, “Yeah, me too. I like you a lot.”

“How very sweet of you to say, angel.” He presses his forehead to yours and tangles your fingers together, “Let’s get you cleaned up now, hm? Can’t have you walking home like that”

To be honest, you aren’t sure you can walk at all.

____________________________

A few months later, you are sitting in the local cafe and applying for some jobs on your laptop. You did well on your final assessments and graduated with flying colours. It’s only a few more days before you need to officially move out of the dorms, and finding a new apartment (along with a job to pay for it) has not been easy so far.

You huff and push your hair back from your face. Your phone pings, and you ignore it. It’s been pinging for the past few minutes and you are not in the mood to check it. The job you are currently applying for made you retype all of the information in your resume even though you just uploaded it, and you are not happy.

The phone pings again and you groan, grabbing it and flipping it over. It looks like it’s just the group chat, as loud as always. As you go to close the message notifications though, you see one from about ten minutes ago that isn't from your group chat. Your heart is racing.

Hello!

I still have your number from when you asked for an assignment extension at the beginning of last semester. I hope you don't mind me using it. It’s been a few months, I'd like to see you again, if you wouldn't mind.

-Nagito

Oh shit. Your heart is beating a rapid tattoo in your chest. You had been so caught up in the job hunt and apartment hunt that you had all but forgotten about...this. You swallow and manage to force your shaky hands to type.

Oh hey!

It’s nice to hear from you. I’m free this weekend if you want to meet up, I still live in the dorms though, so it’ll have to be your place.

It's only about a minute before you get a reply.

Lol! I was thinking we could start with coffee, but I'm not going to lie and say i wasn’t hoping it would end up in my bedroom.

This weekend works for me. I can pick you up around 11?

You smile at your phone, cheeks turning crimson.

Sounds good. I’ll see you then.

You quickly update his contact details in your phone from Professor Komaeda, to Nagito <3.

#komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #komaeda nagito #nagito komaeda #danganronpa #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa fanfiction #sdr2 #super danganronpa goodbye despair #FILTH

258 notes · View notes

jamaisjoons · 4 years

Text

love alive ⤑ jjk | m.

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 a year after you and jungkook break up, the two of you meet at your brother’s party. 〞post break up au. exes to lovers au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: jungkook x reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst ⋆ fluff ⋆ smut

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 17k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: mentions of alcohol, swearing, so much angst, pining? i guess, they’re both broken up but still love each other so there’s that lmao, reader emotionally cheats a fair amount, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, sub!reader, pussy eating, hair pulling, fingering, dirty talk, this was supposed to be soft sex but idk what happened, okay it’s kinda soft but also feral, tender feral sex, aka the seraphjoon vibe, unprotected sex, riding, creampie, multiple orgasms

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: YEEEHAW LOOK I DID SOMETHING !! i had sudden inspo for this fic and while it HURTS it doesn’t hurt too bad i dont think. anyway, i hope you enjoy it but its like 3am so i’m going to bed now hawyeet

⇥ part of the mixtape series

⏤ edited by my wonderful beta @shadowsremedy

One late Friday evening, Jungkook finds himself in his apartment. He’s currently sat on the sofa, simply staring off into space as he waits for his date to return. Jungkook doesn’t really remember much about her, they’d just been to dinner and try as he might, he just hadn’t been able to focus on the conversation. One reason being none other than it had been a completely stilted conversation - first dates were always awkward - but paired with the fact he barely knows her, and that he’d been on about seventeen different first dates in the last three months, he’d found himself unable to really keep the conversation going.

Of course, the second - and more major - reason, would be that she’s not you.

But Jungkook would rather not think about that right now.

“Do you have any wine?” Jungkook’s date calls out. Breaking out of his daze, Jungkook’s eyes come back into focus as he trains his attention back onto her. Eyebrows slightly furrowed, he scrambles for her name. Jiha? Jihyo? Jihye! That’s it. Jihye looks at him expectantly, waiting for his answer.

“Uh, maybe. I don’t know,” comes Jungkook’s distracted answer, “there may be some in the bottom cupboard on the left-hand side,” he continues nonchalantly - not really thinking about it. He thinks he remembers seeing an open bottle there, but again, he doesn’t drink wine all that often so he doesn’t really care. He watches Jihye rummage around in his kitchen, her short black dress riding further up the backs of her thighs - and Jungkook knows he should feel some sort of attraction towards her - she’s incredibly beautiful - not to mention her body’s practically perfect - and yet, he feels… nothing.

Why is he on a date with her again? Oh yes, because she frequented the same gym as he did and had asked him out randomly earlier in the week. Jungkook lets out a little sigh, his head falls back onto the back of the sofa. Staring up at the ceiling, his mind casts back to all the dates he’s had recently. Most of them approach him and he doesn’t really know why he keeps saying yes - but he has an inkling it’s to do with the fact that he’s still not over you. Though, that doesn’t really matter.

You’re long gone, and the last Jungkook had heard about you, was that you’d met someone else - someone willing to give you more than he could - someone willing to give you what you want. His heart constraints at the thought of you, but he shakes the thoughts out of his head. He needs to move on - it’s been long enough. Almost a year. Well, it’s been exactly seven months, twenty-three days and nine hours since you walked out on him, but who’s keeping count? Certainly not him.

“Oh! I found some. It’s already open - do you mind if I have some?” Jihye asks, and reflexively, Jungkook finds himself rolling his eyes. If he hadn’t wanted her to have some, he wouldn’t have told her where the wine was. Biting his tongue, however, Jungkook just lets out a non-committal hum. Once done pouring herself a glass of wine, Jihye returns to him while taking a sip of her wine. Suddenly, she stops, her face twisting in disgusting as she spits her wine back into her glass. Own features twisting in disgust, Jungkook regards her through guarded eyes, wondering what was going on.

“Gross! Why does this wine have pieces of cork in it? Also, I think it’s gone off - it tastes weird,” Jihye gripes as she takes her glass back into his kitchen. Barely paying attention to her words, Jungkook stares in unsettlement at the bottle. The dark green glass glints under the warm kitchen lights, his heart lurching as he recognises the bottle.

With unfocused eyes, he stares at the bottle, unmoving as his mind buzzes with what feels like static. Hazily, he registers that Jihye is speaking, but through the thick fog of his memories, Jungkook’s mind barely notices what she’s saying. Nonetheless, the exact moment Jihye begins tilting the bottle over the sink, attempting to flush its contents, Jungkook jumps to his feet.

“No! Don’t throw it out,” Jungkook’s voice thunders, his long legs carrying him into the kitchen swiftly. Jihye startles, looking at him in dumbfounded incredulity.

“What? Why? It’s got pieces of cork in it, and it tastes funny,” Jihye replies, turning back and beginning to pour the wine again. Abruptly, Jungkook snatches the bottle out of her hand, causing Jihye to jump.

“It’s not off, it just tastes like that. It’s bad wine,” Jungkook mutters as he puts the stopper back in the neck of the bottle.

“All the more reason to throw it out?” Jihye suggests, Jungkook’s jaw flexing at her words.

“I’m not throwing it out,” Jungkook replies, his voice hardened. Jihye cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Come on Jungkook, I think you should throw it out,” Jihye says coyly, a smile crawling onto her face. Imperceptibly, Jungkook’s eyes narrow. The flirtatiousness in her demeanour isn’t lost on him, nor is the fact that she likely thinks he’s joking. But Jungkook isn’t joking. He’s not throwing the wine out - whether it has pieces of cork in it, whether it tastes bad, or even if it had been off, he’s not throwing it out.

“No,” Jungkook says, his voice full of resolve. Jihye startles as she realises he’s not being playful. She raises her eyebrow once again, cocking her hip to the side.

“What’s so special about it? It’s just a bottle of wine,” Jihye points out. Of course, to anyone, it would be just a bottle of wine - but to him, it’s so much more.

It’s the last thing he has left of you.

When you’d broken up with him, ending your five-year relationship, you’d moved everything out of his apartment. The stupid cushions Jungkook hated - really, they only took up more space on the sofa, meaning he couldn’t lounge about properly - your hundred and one towels, even the sheets: the ones that had smelled like you. They’re all gone, along with all your clothes and belongings, leaving a half-empty apartment, and a hole in Jungkook’s heart. Every and any trace of you had slowly been removed from his flat and consequently his life. And now, he’s left with just this bottle of wine. - the one you’d forgotten about because it’d been hidden at the back of the cupboard.

“Jungkook? Are you listening to me? What’s so great about this bottle?” Jihye asks. Once again, however, Jungkook’s mind wanders to you. Unable to pull away from the bottle, Jihye fades from the world, her voice becoming distant and hazy as he recedes back into his memories.

Flashback - three years ago

A knock resounding at Jungkook’s door, he takes a deep breath. Looking at himself in the mirror one last time, he brushes the non-existent lint off his blazer. Then, running his fingers through his hair, he nods at himself and leaves his bedroom. Approaching the door, he swings it open, a large smile painted on his face as he spots you.

“Hello, beautiful,” Jungkook greets the moment he spots you. However, the moment he actually sees you, he finds himself stopping. Dressed in a flowing sundress, a dazzling smile on your face and bright, twinkling eyes - you look positively radiant. A loud whoosh of air escapes his nose, his eyes softening at you, “you look gorgeous,” he breathlessly says, his voice low.

Your smile brightening, you grin up at him, “Happy third anniversary!” you call out cheerily. Jungkook bites his lip, and unable to stop himself, swoops down and presses a kiss to your lips.

“Happy anniversary,” he mutters back, his lips brushing yours with every movement. Pulling your lower lip between your teeth, you chew on it while giving him a smile. Even three years into your relationship, Jungkook still managed to set butterflies aflutter in the pits of your stomach with the slightest touch.

Swiftly, you step into his apartment, easily navigating your way towards his kitchen as you place the bags of food and wine onto his counter. “Are you sure you don’t want to go out?” you ask curiously, peering at your boyfriend through the corner of your eyes.

However, Jungkook only steps up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Nope!” he happily replies, popping the ‘p’ sound, “you said you’d rather just have a quiet night in. Besides, we went out for the cruise-ship dinner thing last year,” Jungkook continues, humming in thought at the memory. A smile curls on your own lips and you twist in his arms, winding your own around his waist as you place your head on his chest.

“Mmm, that was a good anniversary. But if I remember correctly, someone ended up being seasick from drinking too much,” you say pointedly, tilting your head to look up at him, your chin resting on his sternum. Despite his cheeks flushing a rosy shade, Jungkook scowls.

“It’s not my fault… the alcohol was stronger than I thought it was,” he mumbles under his breath. You shake your head in fondness, but then, your lips curl into a slight frown. Every anniversary, Jungkook had taken you somewhere - your first, he’d taken you on a ski trip, your second, he’d taken you on a weekend break to Jeju island, and of course, your third had been a cruise-ship dinner. This year, however, you’d been recently promoted to the department head of your company, but that had meant additional stress and weight to an already heavy workload. As a result, you’d asked Jungkook if he was okay with just a quiet night in - because there was nothing you wanted more than to just spend some time with your loving boyfriend.

“Are you sure this is okay? If you want to go out or something, we still can,” you ask. However, Jungkook only shakes his head once again while pulling you closer into him.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. Honestly. I just want to spend some time with you. Whether that’s here in my apartment, or in yours, or on an expensive date, or even in a garbage dump, it doesn’t matter. I just want to be with you,” Jungkook grins before smacking a sloppy kiss on your forehead. Face twisting in disgust, your earlier doubt about Jungkook being happy with your choice of date fades away, and you playfully smack him before pushing him away.

“Ew gross! You just slobbered all over me,” you gripe, rubbing the wet spot on your forehead.

Waggling his eyebrows, “and there’s more where that came from,” Jungkook playfully teases. A light snort escapes your lips as you shake your head before turning around.

“Yeah, whatever. I bought wine and steak for dinner. It’s not much but I don’t know, I felt like being classy,” you casually shrug while turning to the bag of groceries Jungkook hadn’t noticed. Head cocked to the side, he grimaces at the bottle of wine. Suddenly, you stop, your lips curling in a frown, “Although… in hindsight, I should have bought more food - knowing your bottomless stomach,” you sigh, looking at him from the corner of your eye.

“Yeah, you probably should have,” Jungkook deadpans. Lips twisting into a pout, your shoulders deflate at his words. Jungkook sees your disappointment, his heart dropping in his chest at the thought of upsetting you. He’d meant it as a joke - really, he had - but you’d clearly taken it seriously. Stepping up to you, Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist once again, his chin resting on your shoulder and hands clasps around your belly.

“I was only joking, sweetheart,” Jungkook says lowly, his face nuzzling into your hair while he presses a kiss to the outer shell of your ear. “Wine and steak sound good. Very classy,” he continues, pressing another kiss to your flesh - this time the column of your throat.

Instantly, your lips curl into a victorious smirk, “Okay, great!” you say, your shoulders immediately perking up. Jungkook blinks at your sudden change in demeanour, his nose scrunching when he realises what’s just happened.

“Hey! Did you do that on purpose?” he asks, his eyes narrowing into slits, his gaze full of accusation. Face twisting into a picture of innocence, you smile at him coyly - and if he didn’t know you as well as he did, he’d buy it - but Jungkook sees the sparkle of mischief in your eyes.

Before he can open his mouth, however, you’re already cutting him off, “Where’s your corkscrew?” you ask, rummaging through his drawers. Jungkook watches you search through the utensils, your lips curling downwards in concentration.

His own lips twisting, Jungkook approaches you, helping you look for the corkscrew. However, after a few moments, “Oh. I don’t think I have one,” Jungkook finally says. Eyebrows furrowing slightly, Jungkook wonders if he ever even bought one, but he doesn’t think he has.

“Kook! How are we supposed to drink this now?” you whine, a pout forming on your face again. Shrugging, Jungkook whips out his phone.

“I’m sure we can like, find another way,” Jungkook replies, already googling a way to open the wine bottle. Curiously, you peer over his shoulder, Jungkook’s arm instinctively wrapping around you as he scrolls with one hand. Head tilting upwards, you smile at your boyfriend, his features slightly scrunched in concentration. Unable to help yourself, you lean up and press a kiss to the bottom of his jaw. The moment your lips brush his skin, the corners of Jungkook’s lips twitch before he twists his head and presses a kiss to the temple of your head.

Arms wrapping around his waist, you lean your head on his bicep, “find anything yet?” you ask, Jungkook humming in response.

“We could use a blowtorch,” he replies casually.

“Do you have a blowtorch?”

“Fair enough. We could smack it against the wall using something to cushion it.”

“And risk breaking the bottle? No thanks.” Like that, Jungkook continues reading out suggestions: from pumping it out using a bicycle tire pump, all the way to slapping it out with a shoe, only for you to refute them. Eventually, however, with no other option, you and Jungkook eventually try using a screwdriver. Which brings you to now, almost fifteen minutes later.

“Oh my god, I think I’ve got it,” Jungkook yells in triumph. You’re currently sat on the kitchen island, your legs dangling as you watch your boyfriend struggle with the bottle. About five minutes after attempting to open the bottle, you’d conceded defeat. Your boyfriend, however, is much more competitive than you are, and he’d downright refused to let the bottle win. Thus, for the last ten minutes, you’d watched your boyfriend futilely dig, and twist, the screwdriver into the cork.

Quirking your eyebrow at your boyfriend, your eyes rove over him. He’s currently stood with a victorious grin, the apples of his cheeks bunched up around his eyes. He’s holding out the wine bottle, the metal head of the screwdriver stuck into the neck of the bottle. Hell, the cork isn’t even in one piece anymore - bits and pieces of it littered on the floor around him from where Jungkook had dug it out in an attempt to bury the screwdriver into the wood stopper.

“Have you now?” you drawl sarcastically. It certainly doesn’t look like he’s got it. For one, the cork is still in the bottle.

Sneering at your snide tone, “Watch this!” Jungkook calls out, and then, grabbing the handle of the tool, he pulls as hard as he can. A loud pop resounds through the air and you startle slightly, watching as Jungkook holds the screwdriver - with half the cork attached to it - in the air.

“Oh my god! You did it!” you call in surprise, jumping off the table and walking towards him.

Puffing out his chest, “and you didn’t believe in me! But I did it anyway,” Jungkook says proudly.

You roll your eyes before gesturing to the half-broken cork, “yeah barely.”

“Tomato, tomato. Potato, potato. The point is, I did it, and we can have wine now” Jungkook replies. With another roll of your eyes, you cross his kitchen and pull two wine glasses out of his cupboard.

“Yeah, yeah. My knight in shining suit. Now come on! I’ve literally been waiting twenty-five minutes to drink this,” you say, holding out the glasses towards him. Nodding, Jungkook pours the wine, filling the tumblers halfway before placing the bottle back on the island.

He takes the glasses from your hand, placing them on the dining table and you follow him, placing the plates of food onto the table. The two of you take seats opposite each other, Jungkook raising his glass towards you in a salute. For a few moments, the two of you tuck into your food, the muffled sounds of your joint chewing filling the air.

Then, “this steak is cold,” you grumble, a grimace settling on your face. In hindsight, after spending all that time trying to open the wine, the two of you should have heated your food - but in the triumph of actually opening the wine, you’d both forgotten.

“Yeah, and this wine is fucking gross,” Jungkook gripes, his own features twisting in disgust. Blinking owlishly, you reach for your own glass, sipping the burgundy liquid. The minute it washes over your tastebuds, you find yourself gagging. It’s sour - the acrid stench of it only burning your nasal cavity and intensifying the bitterness of the wine.

Forcibly, you swallow it down before spitting and sputtering into your hand, “yeah, and it’s got pieces of cork in it. Gross, what a waste of a hundred and fifty thousand won,” you scowl. Immediately, Jungkook baulks.

“A hundred and fifty thousand won? For that trash?” Jungkook yells in incredulity. You look at him in surprise, the two of you simply staring at each other. Then, all of a sudden, the two of you burst out laughing. Neither of you has any real reason for why you’re both laughing. Perhaps it was the ridiculous price of the incredibly poortasting wine, perhaps it was that Jungkook had spent a good fifteen minutes struggling with said wine or perhaps it was because even after all that struggle, neither of you could stomach the taste. Either way, the absurdity of the situation isn’t lost on either of you, and you both can’t help but laugh hysterically.

“Man, I can’t believe you spent that much money on that shit,” Jungkook giggles, wiping away at his tears.

Lower lip pulled between your teeth, you grin at Jungkook, “I can’t believe you spent so much time trying to open it,” you quip. Shaking your heads, you both resume eating your food, forgoing the wine.

Once the two of you are done, you help Jungkook clear the table. Jungkook watches you throw out the leftovers before placing the plates into the sink. The kitchen lights are dimmed low, the amber light reflecting off of your skin and silhouetting you in its glow. The bright walls off his kitchen only help to highlight your body, the hem of your dress swishing around your thighs with every movement. His darkened, lust-filled gaze rakes over you and he can’t help but swallow thickly when his eyes rest on the smooth curve of your ass.

Helpless against his desire for you, you feel Jungkook’s arms wrap around your body. Loosely, his hands rest on your hips, the pads of his fingertips gently digging into your flesh. “Do you wanna head to bed?” Jungkook asks, his voice breathy as he begins peppering kisses along the column of your neck. You raise your eyebrow at his sudden change in demeanour. Nevertheless, you’d be lying if you said his light, attentive touch wasn’t clouding your head in hazy lust.

“All of a sudden?” you ask, your tone light and teasing. Jungkook responds by digging his fingers harder into your hips, pulling them back so your ass is flush against his crotch.

“If I’m being honest, I’ve wanted to get you out of this dress as soon as I saw you in it. You look beautiful. I love you so much,” Jungkook rasps in response, lightly nipping at the sensitive flesh just below your earlobe. Twisting in his hold, you wind your hands around his neck, carding your fingers through his hair at the back of his nape before lightly playing with the locks.

“I love you too,” you breathe out, “take me to bed and I’ll show you how much,” you breathlessly whisper back. A shuddering exhale escaping his lips, Jungkook’s mouth descends onto yours. Instantly, the two of you lose yourselves into each other; the wine bottle long forgotten.

“Jungkook? Are you even paying attention to me?” Jihye suddenly calls out, her hands waving in front of his face. Blinking blankly, Jungkook’s vision comes back into focus. He looks around his apartment - it’s still the same as it was two years ago. The kitchen lights are still low, and his walls are bright, and that same bottle of wine sits on his marble counter - practically mocking him - but you’re not here. It’s not you standing in his kitchen.

“I- you need to leave,” Jungkook chokes out, his voice hoarse and his throat thick with emotion. Jihye looks at him in dumbfounded bewilderment. She opens her mouth to argue, but then stops, her words dying on her lips. Taking in Jungkook’s distant gaze, Jihye notices his attention is once again on the bottle. With a scoff, she rolls her eyes before snorting. Then, grabbing her purse, she stalks out of his apartment - but not before slamming the door.

Jungkook doesn’t care.

Instead, he stares at the dark bottle of wine. His reflection glints back at him, his distorted face mirroring the despair and sadness etched onto his face. Once again, he loses himself into his memories. Memories of when the two of you were still together, memories of you smiling at him, of you kissing him, memories of the two of you, when you were both happy - and together. But not anymore. Now, those memories that he’d once cherished - once taken for granted - are tainted: bruised and tarnished with the restless memories of you leaving; of you walking out of this very same apartment and leaving him all alone.

The warm memories that had once been his saving grace, now leave him cold, with a deep ache in his chest.

With one final glance at the bottle, Jungkook buries his head in his hands, and then lets out a heartwrenching sob.

In the comfort of your own home, you lie in your bed, staring up into nothingness. The bedroom is completely bathed in darkness, not even a single sliver of moonlight peeking in through the blackout-blinds you had installed. After your third anniversary with Jungkook, you’d moved in with him, and your ex-boyfriend had hated any and every inkling of light while he was trying to sleep. He simply couldn’t sleep unless he was in complete darkness. Of course, after two years of living with him, you’d also gotten used to it - and now, you aren’t able to sleep without complete darkness either.

Yet, you still aren’t able to sleep. There are many reasons for your lack of sleep. Many of them are to do with your ex-boyfriend. It’s been just over half a year since you and Jungkook broke up. Almost eight months now since you walked out of his life. Eight months since you reluctantly broke off your five-year relationships. But you had no choice. You and Jungkook had wanted different things in life and though heartbreaking, you knew it was best for the two of you to go your separate ways then and there.

Of course, knowing that didn’t make it any easier. Nor does it help qualm the crushing bitterness, nor the misery, you feel at Jungkook’s absence in your life.

Though, you figure, those feelings are a given. After all, the two of you had been together for five whole years. Five years is a long time to spend with someone - and for the entirety of those years, Jungkook had been your one and only - the man you had loved with your entire heart. The man you still love with all your heart. It’s not like you could just forget five years of love in a day - nor in eight months. Hell, you don’t think you could forget him, nor the love you feel for him, in your entire lifetime.

Thus, in the absolute dark of your bedroom, you stare up at the ceiling. Though, you don’t really see it. No, all you see is darkness. A low sigh escapes your lips and you shift on your bed, trying to find a comfortable position. But try as you might, you simply can’t find one. And it has every reason to do with the man occupying your bed - if you remove your residual feelings for Jungkook out of the picture. Tilting your head slightly, you turn to your side. Even in the darkness, you can make out the obscure outline of your current boyfriend’s - though you use that term loosely, because really, he’s a family friend you’ve known a while and your mother had set you up with - face as he snores lightly. With another sigh, you turn your head back to stare at the ceiling.

Other than thoughts of Jungkook, one of the main reasons you can’t sleep is: you’re on the wrong side of the bed. For as long as you’d been with Jungkook, even before you lived together, Jungkook had always slept on the left, and you’d slept on the right. It wasn’t like you’d purposely decided on that, it’s just how it had worked out. Jungkook always slept on the left, and you on the right - before the two of you had even met. And after you’d met? Well, it had just clicked - as if the two of you were made for each other.

But now, you’re on the left.

And Minhyuk is on the right.

And it’s not right. Nor does it feel right. In more than one sense of the word.

Shifting once again, you lowly groan when a sting of pain shoots through your lower abdomen, bringing you to another reason you can’t sleep. You’re on your period, and with your period, comes the cursed cramps. No matter how much you try, you simply can’t seem to find a comfortable position to lie in. That, paired with the fact that you’re on the wrong side of the bed, and the plaguing thoughts of Jungkook, has insomnia gripping at your head. Momentarily, you’d considered getting up and heating up a hot water bottle to soothe your pain, but you simply can’t find it in yourself to get out of bed - not when moving only seemed to fuel the fire in the pits of your uterus.

Once again, you turn to Minhyuk. Briefly, you consider waking him up and asking him to bring you the hot water bottle, and you even open your mouth to call him. But then, you pause, the words dying on your lips as your throat constricts. This scene is almost too familiar to you, and in the dark of your bedroom, you can’t stop your mind from wandering to the past.

Flashback - two years ago

Shifting uncomfortably, you’re woken from your sleep by the searing pain in your lower abdomen. Through the haze of your sleep, you let out quiet whimpers and continue shuffling in bed, trying to find a comfortable position to fall back asleep in. However, try as you might, you simply can’t seem to find one. This time, when you shift again, you feel Jungkook’s arm lazily wrap around you.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Jungkook asks while shuffling closer towards him. His words cause you to still, your shoulders relaxing as you feel his warm presence surround you. Your boyfriend moves his head to just over your shoulder, his hand sluggishly rubbing circles over your stomach. He nudges your t-shirt to the side - really, it’s his - and presses a tender kiss to the skin of your shoulder that he’s just exposed. Before you can even say anything, or alert him to exactly what is wrong, “do you have bad cramps again?” he sighs out. Despite your pain, you find your face softening, a soft smile curling on your lips at the sleepy tone of his voice.

“Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t wanna wake you up,” you reply lowly. Jungkook only shakes his head, his long hair tickling the flesh of your collarbone.

“Tis okay,” Jungkook slurs sleepily. Then, before you can tell him to go back to sleep, Jungkook is already crawling out of bed. You hear a loud thud, followed by a pained groan, “I’m okay. I just- didn’t see the end of the bed,” Jungkook mumbles through the haziness of his sleep. Instantly, his words cause concern to well up in your chest, however, before you can ask him if he’s okay, he’s leaving your bedroom.

Left alone, you flick the lamp on your bedside table on and sit up in bed with a wince. You take in short, deep breath, trying your best to soothe the vengeful cramps in the pit of your stomach. If you didn’t know better, you’d almost think your uterus was tying itself into knots. Another sharp sting and you let out a low whimper, doubling over in pain as you clutch your stomach.

Moments later, you feel a hand soothingly rub your lower back as your boyfriend - now more awake - crouches down beside your side of the bed. Large, doe eyes stare at you in concern as he passes you your hot water bottle. “Here you go, baby,” Jungkook says softly, placing the fuzzy bottle on your lower stomach. The warm heat instantly soothes your cramps, a sigh of relief escaping your lips as you feel the pain begin to subside.

“Thank you,” you rasp out, but Jungkook only shakes his head. Then, he thrusts his hand and a glass in front of your face.

When you quirk your eyebrow at him, “painkillers,” Jungkook merely responds. Your face crumples, your heart speeding up in your chest. Gratefully, you accept the pills from him, popping them in your mouth before chugging down the glass of water. When you’re done, Jungkook takes the glass from your hand and places it back onto your bedside table. Once done, he helps you shift back down into a laying position as he tucks you into bed. Then, he crawls under the sheets himself.

You feel the left side of the bed shift before Jungkook slides in. Rolling closer to you, he presses his chest against your back while throwing an arm to rest loosely over your waist. Lazily, he rubs his hand over your hips, soothingly massaging the skin while pressing tender kisses to the back of your shoulder. “Are you feeling better?” Jungkook mumbles. His voice is low, heavy with sleep, and you can’t help but shudder as it reverberates through your eardrum.

“Mmm. Much better. Thank you,” you whisper back, more than grateful at his thoughtful gestures. If there was one thing you absolutely adored about Jungkook, it would be his utter thoughtfulness. More often than not, you just wouldn’t need to tell him what was wrong; after almost four years together, he could simply read you like a book. He knew what you wanted and when you wanted it. He knew when to leave you alone, or when to help you. He could read your moods as if he was well versed in all things that surrounded you. More than anything, however, Jungkook was simply empathetic towards you - and it made you fall for him all the more.

“I love you,” you whisper, the words easily falling from your lips. You feel Jungkook’s lips curl against your shoulder, an indolent smile playing at his lips.

Without even a moment of hesitation, “I love you too,” he mumbles back. Then, the two of you fall back into silence: with you clutching the hot water bottle to your uterus, and Jungkook genially rubbing circles into the flesh of your hips.

Another sharp pain ricochets through your uterus, pulling you out of your reverie. A low whimper escapes your throat and you shift in bed again. However, unlike Jungkook, Minhyuk stays fast asleep. Once again, you contemplate waking him up and you don’t want to, but the pain is almost too much. Before you can stop yourself, “Minhyuk?” you whimper out while gently shaking him.

Minhyuk lets out a groggy groan before, “what’s wrong, ____?” he asks, his voice heavily laden with sleep.

“C-can you go into the kitchen and get me my hot water bottle, please? I’ve got really bad cramps,” you whisper hoarsely. Minhyuk only groans in response.

“____… I’ve got to wake up for work in three hours. Can you not get it yourself?” Minhyuk asks sleepily. There’s no malice in his tone, nor upset or anger, just drowsy question - and you know he doesn’t mean anything by it - but still, you can’t help the way your stomach drops at his words. Biting your lip, you suck in a sharp breath, the movement making you whimper in pain again. Clearly, Minhyuk hears the sound escape your lips, because he’s sliding out of bed - albeit begrudgingly - and leaving your bedroom.

Five minutes later, he walks back and passes you the hot water bottle. With a small voice, you thank him, Minhyuk grunting in response. The right side of the mattress tilts and you feel Minhyuk slide back into bed. “Goodnight,” Minhyuk mumbles, though you can tell he’s already falling asleep again. Briefly, he pecks your cheek before turning his back towards you. Short moments later, his light snores fill the quiet air of the night, leaving you alone once again.

Chewing your lip, you place the hot water bottle onto your stomach, allowing the warm, soothing sensation to assuage the pain of your cramps. Your mind casts back to Jungkook, and the way he took care of you on nights like this, and then you turn to Minhyuk once again. You can still feel his lips on your cheek - from where he’d kissed you - but it’s not the same. Minhyuk is nice, and though reluctantly, he still got out of bed to get you your water bottle.

But it’s not the same.

It’s not the same when he kisses you on the cheek, or brings you your water bottle. It’s not the same when he buys you flowers, or takes you out to dinner. It’s not the same when he kisses you, or when you sleep together. It’s not the same, because while nice, all of his gestures are empty. There’s no love in them, no thoughtfulness, no passion. Minhyuk is nice - and he does things out of nicety - but he also does them out of obligation.

And it’s not the same.

Because there is no love in them.

Because he’s not Jungkook.

Because he won’t ever be.

A month and a half later, you find yourself nervously staring at the brass-gold number plates of your brother’s apartment. You haven’t seen Hoseok in a few months - well, nine months to be exact. Nine months on this day. Wow. It’s really been nine months since you broke up with Jungkook, huh? It definitely feels like it’s been longer. If anything, it feels like an eternity. Though, you suppose, it must, since you’d gone from spending almost every day with him to suddenly not seeing him. It had been hard, and multiple times, you’ve wondered if you should just go back - but you know you can’t. You’d broken up for reasons - serious reasons - reasons that had meant a lot to you.

All these months, you’ve tried avoiding him as best as you could. Anything and everything that was within your power, you had done: from avoiding all of your friends because they reminded you too much of him, to moving to a different part of the city just to avoid running into him by chance. It had been hard, and god had it hurt - stillhurts - but you knew you had to do it. But now, standing in front of your brother’s apartment, you know you can no longer run from him anymore. Today is Hoseok’s birthday - and you know he’d be heartbroken if you didn’t turn up.

But you also know Jungkook will be here - because there’s no way Hoseok hadn’t invited him.

Funnily enough, you’d met Jungkook because of Hoseok. The two of them had met at the swimming club in your university, and the two had gotten along well. At first, you’d been fearful of admitting to Hoseok that you were seeing Jungkook - but to your utter surprise, your older brother just hadn’t cared. He liked Jungkook and he trusted Jungkook to treat you right - and he had. For five years, Jungkook had been the best, sweetest, most perfect boyfriend anyone could have asked for. Until that day. That fateful day, nine months ago, when you’d walked out of his apartment - and consequently his life.

“____? You okay?” Minhyuk asks, waving his hand in front of your space. Pulled out of your thoughts, you stare at your boyfriend - though once again, you use the term loosely. Minhyuk stares at you in confusion before gesturing to the door. The very same door you’d been blankly staring at while reminiscing about your brother and boyfriend. Looking at Minhyuk, you can’t help the way your stomach tosses at the sight of him.

Momentarily, you wonder what Hoseok would say. Hoseok absolutely adored Jungkook - to the point where you’d find your brother cuddling with your boyfriend, or kissing his forehead. You shudder just thinking about it. That had been a funny day. One day, you’d decided to surprise your boyfriend by spontaneously turning up at his apartment. However, to your utter surprise, you’d turned up just to see your boyfriend and your brother snuggling while watching Netflix. Sure, it was a cute sight, and ordinarily, you would have been touched. If it weren’t for the fact that your brother was cuddling your boyfriend.

So yes, suffice to say the least, Hoseok absolutely loved Jungkook - and throughout your entire relationship, he’d completely rooted and supported the two of you. Even when you and Jungkook would fight, even when you’d drive each other crazy, Hoseok would speak to the both of you and calm you down and make you see reason. Reason being that you both loved each other. Which is why, dread settles in your stomach as you stare blankly at Minhyuk. Once again, you wonder what Hoseok would say. You know he knows that you’re seeing Minhyuk - your mother has to have told him.

But knowing and seeing are two different things and you have no idea how he’ll react to Minhyuk. You love your brother, you really, really do - but Hoseok has a bad habit of not being able to bite his tongue - and that paired with the fact that he absolutely loved Jungkook - and still does - has trepidation settling deep within your stomach. It doesn’t help that it’s so soon after you and Jungkook broke up either. Nor does it help that Hoseok already knows Minhyuk - he is the son of your mother’s friend after all. But you’re twenty-seven now and you’re not getting any younger and you have to move on with your life. Whether that be with Jungkook or not. Though, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t completely distraught that it turned out to be without your sweet boyfriend. Or well, ex-boyfriend, you remind yourself.

Once again, Minhyuk looks at you expectantly. Drawing in every ounce of courage you can muster, you take in a deep breath and then knock on your brother’s door. You don’t know how long it takes Hoseok to answer. Realistically, you know it’s only mere moments - but that doesn’t stop it feeling like an excruciating eternity.

The moment Hoseok’s door swings open, you’re met with the sight of your brother. Smiling shyly at him, you awkwardly wave, “Hey Hobi,” you greet. However, Hoseok isn’t looking at you. No, he’s looking at the taller man stood next to you. Shuffling from foot to foot, your gaze flits back and forth from your brother to Minhyuk. Minhyuk for the most of it, looks a little lost and unsure of himself or what to say. Oppositely, your brother simply stares at Minhyuk, looking him up and down, his face a picture of passiveness and his usually warm gaze completely guarded.

“H-Hobi?” you choke out, clearing your throat as you try to get your brother’s attention. Hoseok blinks for a minute and then turns to you.

Momentarily, he regards you with his passive gaze before his lips quirk, and then suddenly, he’s beaming and pulling you into a hug. “____! I’ve missed you!” you brother practically screams, and despite the slight wince as he almost bursts your eardrums, you find yourself letting out a breath of air you hadn’t even known you’d been holding. The minute your brother envelops you in his arms, you feel yourself getting choked up - you’d missed his warmth. You’d desperately craved his affection when you’d broken up with Jungkook, but you had no idea what to say to him - or even how to approach him.

“Come on in. It’s a pretty quiet thing. There’s booze and snacks in the kitchen just help yourself to it, music’s mainly in the living room if you just wanna chill but if you need somewhere more quiet, the balcony or spare bedroom are available. ____ will tell you where to hang up your coats,” Hoseok says, smiling at Minhyuk. You bite your lip at Hoseok’s tone - it may not be obvious to others, but you know your brother like the back of your hand, and you can see the stiffness in his smile, and the chilled politeness in his tone. “Let’s catch up later on, yeah?” Hoseok says, turning back to you. Stiffly, you nod at him, already knowing he wants to talk about Jungkook.

Both you and Minhyuk enter Hoseok’s apartment and you can’t help the dismay that streaks through you. Hoseok wasn’t kidding when he said it’s a pretty quiet affair. About twenty people are milling about, the low thrumming bass of Hoseok’s music vibrating through the air. It’s loud enough to be heard throughout the apartment; not enough to cause the neighbours to complain, but more than enough to not really be able to have a decent conversation with someone.

Scattered about the crowd are a few people you recognise - Namjoon: Hoseok’s best friend from high school, and of course, Seokjin and Yoongi - his other best friends from college. Momentarily, you spot Jimin and you find yourself reeling at the familiar face. He’d been Hoseok’s friend from dance school when your brother was still in middle school. Your eyes continue scanning over the crowd before you find yourself stopping.

A rush of heat courses through your veins, the rushing of blood resounding through your eardrums when you spot Kim Taehyung - Hoseok and Jungkook’s other friend from swim team. But it’s not Taehyung that has you stopping. No, it’s who he’s speaking to.

Jungkook.

Knees buckling at the mere sight of him, your face crumples with the weight of your emotions. It’s only been nine months, and yet he looks so different from the last day you’d seen him. His hair is much longer now - so long that it falls into his eyes and you watch how he flicks the soft strands of hair out of his face. The motion of his hair practically mesmerises you and you can’t find it in yourself to look away from him. With his smooth caramel skin, soft features and gently sloping lips, he has your heart constricting between your ribcage.

Then you spot it. The black leather jacket. The same one you’d gotten him as a birthday gift four years ago. It’s still preserved beautifully, not a single piece out of place. The leather still shines like it’s brand new, and it still sits on his body as well as it did the first time you gifted it to him. Taehyung says something and Jungkook laughs in response, and the moment that he does, you let out an inaudible gasp. His head falls back, his features twisting into an expression of pure joy while his bunny-esque teeth are put on display. He looks happy - carefree - and you can’t help the sting of nostalgia that spikes through you. The music is loud, and you can barely hear anything. But somehow, his laugh resounds in your ear: ingrained in the memory of your eardrums as it plays like a record, over and over, while you watch him.

“You wanna get a drink?” Minhyuk asks. Instantly, your world comes crashing around you, and you turn to your current paramour. Blinking owlishly, you stare at him in confusion. He’s awfully close to you - a mere hair’s breadth away from you and instinctively, you find yourself backing away. Minhyuk looks at you oddly, and with a sheepish look, you nod to him. You’d gladly accept something to drink - you know you’ll need it if you wanted to survive the night.

An hour later, you find yourself standing over the Seoul city skyline. Leant up against the glass railing of Hoseok’s balcony, you simply stare at the sunset painted across Seoul. The large skyscraper buildings obscure most of it, the artificial bright lights dimming the dusky colours of twilight - but you don’t mind so much. Even obscured by the towering modern glass buildings, the dark shades of amaranth, copper and violet vividly paint the sky enough for you to take it all in.

“You okay out here?” comes a soft voice but you don’t need to turn around to see who it is. You could recognise your brother’s voice in a heartbeat.

Humming non-committally, “fine. I just... needed some space, I guess,” you mumble out with a sigh. If you’re being completely honest, you wanted space from Minhyuk. The minute he noticed your gaze on Jungkook, something in him changed - he’d become a tad overbearing, not to mention that he hasn’t left you alone all night. His sudden attachment wouldn’t have been a problem - if it weren’t the fact that you’d been maudlin about seeing Jungkook again. Thus, while he was busy entertaining a small crowd of Hoseok’s friends, you’d slipped out from under his nose and isolated yourself onto the balcony.

A loud chorus of laughs rolls across the quiet balcony and you let out another sigh. Hoseok leans against the railing next to you as he faces his apartment. “Minhyuk seems to be doing well,” comes Hoseok’s casual voice.

Another sigh, “please don’t,” you whisper. You already know where Hoseok’s going with this. Turning his back to his apartment, Hoseok joins you in basking under the quickly setting sun.

“What happened? You never told me, and Jungkook… well, Jungkook refuses to talk about it. To talk about you,” Hoseok sighs. Through your peripheral vision, you note the almost defeated look in Hoseok’s eyes. Heart clenching at his words, you grip your beer can tighter while staring dully into the distance. You don’t blame Jungkook for not talking about you - you haven’t spoken about him either. Sure, you think about him. Every. Single. Day. But thinking about him and speaking about him are two different things - the latter of which is far too painful.

When you don’t respond to his question, Hoseok simply sighs. “Okay fine, we don’t have to talk about that. But-” he begins.

Before he can continue, however, you turn and look at him, “Hobi, can we just not speak about this?” you ask quietly. Your brother looks at you pointedly, his eyes scrutinising you. With your slumped shoulders and the desperation in your eyes, Hoseok finds his eyes softening. Instantly, he wraps his arms around you, pressing your head to his chest. Automatically, you own arms wrap around him and you bask in your brother’s comforting embrace.

“You still love him,” Hoseok breathes out. There’s not a single hint of accusation in his tone, just plain understanding. More than that, it’s not a question; it’s a statement. One that has your fists curling tighter into his shirt, your shoulders tensing. You wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t say anything else. Rather, he just holds you, letting you seek as much solace as you need from his hold. Frozen in his hug, you breathe deeply as you try to hold yourself together.

Eventually, you find the strength to pull away. Hoseok looks at you with gentle eyes. “Are you happy, at least? With Minhyuk?” Hoseok asks. Opening your mouth, you move to reply, but find yourself stopping. Eyebrows furrowed, your face contorts marginally as you consider Hoseok’s question. Are you happy? Honestly? You have no idea. You haven’t felt any real happiness since you walked out on Jungkook - but you’d chalked it up to the fact that you were still getting over him.

Hesitancy evident in every fibre of your being, Hoseok looks at you pointedly. “Alright. You don’t have to reply because I already know the answer to that,” Hoseok sighs. He pauses for a moment, and you can see the uncertainty in his eyes. Yet, he continues anyway, “I know mom pushed you towards Minhyuk,” Hoseok begins, causing your eyes to widen. You open your mouth to reply, however, he cuts you off once again, “But I trust you to do the right thing. Not for anyone, but for yourself. You’re strong, ____, but you’re also smart. Smart enough to know what you want,” Hoseok finishes. Before you can reply to him, however, you hear the balcony doors sliding open.

The two of you turn around to the newcomer, your heart fluttering when you see Jungkook. “Oh. Sorry, I’ll leave,” Jungkook quickly says, already turning around. Abruptly, however, Hoseok walks up to Jungkook before clapping him on the back.

“Nah it’s okay. I was just heading inside. You can keep ____ company if you want,” Hoseok says brightly. Internally, you despair at your brother’s words. What the fuck was he thinking? Nonetheless, before either of you can say anything, Hoseok disappears back into his apartment, consequently leaving you and Jungkook alone.

Jungkook turns to you nervously, and you can practically feel the hesitancy exuding off of him in thick waves. Pulling your lower lip between your teeth, you send him an awkward smile before gesturing for him to join you. Jungkook looks at you in a mix of worry and trepidation, but ultimately, takes Hoseok’s space beside you. The two of you stand in silence, facing the Seoul city skyline as you stare at nothing. Frazzled by his presence, you internally grasp for something to say, anything to break the thick awkward tension that surrounds the two of you.

Then, all of a sudden: “How have you been?”, “So, what’s up?”, you and Jungkook ask at the same time. You stare at each other in surprise for a couple of moments. Then, all of a sudden, you both burst out laughing.

“God, this is so weird,” Jungkook says, running a hand through his hair. Biting your lip, you nod in agreement before turning back to look at the cityscape.

With the tension broken, “so, how have you been?” you find yourself asking. From the corner of your eye, you notice Jungkook shrug listlessly.

“I’ve been… okay, I guess. How about you?”

“Fine. Alright. I guess,” you reply, mirroring his previous sentiment. They’re simple niceties - and you both know there’s a hint of deception in both your words - but neither of you says anything about it. Once again, the two of you fall into silence. Though, this time, the atmosphere isn’t thick with floundering awkwardness. Rather, it’s thick with confusion and uncertainty. Where do you go from here? What do you even say to your ex-boyfriend - one you still have feelings for?

Deciding to take a chance, “how’s work? I saw that your company released a new game,” you finally say. Jungkook’s head snaps towards you, his eyebrow rising at your question.

“You keep up to date with my company?” he asks. The incredulity in his voice surprises you and you look at him pointedly.

“Of course I do. That company means a big deal to you,” you reply easily. Despite the situation, Jungkook finds himself chuckling, even as his heart constraints at the thought of you checking up on him - even if it’s from afar.

“Yeah. It’s doing really well. Made me a lot of money. How about you? Dohyun from your department still being an ass because you’re the one who got promoted or?” Jungkook questions casually, causing you to laugh.

“Ah, man. Gotta love Dohyun. No, yeah. He’s still being an ass - but at least he doesn’t openly question my authority anymore,” you reply with an easy smile. Then, “actually, I have you to thank for that,” you softly say.

Jungkook looks at you in surprise, “me?”

Nodding, “yeah. I took your advice and threatened to fire him if he ever publicly undermined me again. That shut him up pretty quickly,” you chuckle. Jungkook snorts, the two of you laughing.

“Good! He deserves it. I know he has a problem working under a woman, but man, you deserved that promotion. You were far better qualified than him,” Jungkook compliments. Ducking shyly, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ears before smiling gently at him.

“Thanks. It means a lot,” you mumble under your breath, making Jungkook shake his head.

“No. ____, I’m serious. No one deserved it more than you. You worked so hard for it. There were days I was even worried about the stress you were under because you’d forget to eat, or you wouldn’t sleep. But I guess it was worth it in the end, because you got the promotion,” Jungkook responds. Then, he pauses, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips, “even if it meant there were days you’d ignore me,” Jungkook sighs dramatically. That causes you to snort, and before you can stop yourself, you playfully smack his arm.

“Hey! I gave you lots of attention. Or did you forget that time when I skipped work just so we could play hooky and go snowboarding?” you ask. Jungkook bites his lips, a tinkling giggle escaping his lips at the memory.

“Oh, that was good. You were terrible, and you fell so much I was worried you’d break something,” Jungkook reminisces, a soft sigh following his words.

Giggling to yourself, “Yeah, well we can’t all just pick up a sport and instinctively be good at them,” you snort in response.

“You’re right. Really, it’s a curse being perfect at everything,” Jungkook nods sagely in agreement. Jaw dropping, you look at him in amazement before the two of you burst out laughing.

Suddenly, a new voice breaks “What’s going on here?”

Turning around, you freeze at the sight of Minhyuk. Alternating between looking at you and Jungkook, Minhyuk’s face is a picture of passiveness, his lips set in a thin, grim line. At the sight of Minhyuk, you sense Jungkook deflate, the easy atmosphere once again thickening with tension.

“Minhyuk… this is-” you begin, ready to introduce the two. However, Minhyuk snorts.

“Yes. This is Jungkook, your ex-boyfriend. I know. Which begs the question, why are you alone out here with your ex while I’m inside?” Minhyuk asks. You reel at the accusatory tone in his voice as you double-take.

“Excuse me? We’re just out here speaking,” you exclaim and once again, Minhyuk snorts.

“It looked a little more than that,” he points out. Jaw dropping in bewilderment, you scoff at him, your eyes narrowing into thin slits.

“Uh, I think I should leave the two of you alone,” Jungkook says quietly as he begins making his way towards the balcony door.

Seeing him walk away breaks your heart, and you want to tell him to stay. Nevertheless, you know you have no right to. Not now anyway, when you have bigger problems at hand. Bigger problems namely being Minhyuk. “What’s your problem?” you ask, directing your attention to your boyfriend.

“My problem is that despite the fact that you’re going to be marrying me, you’re out here with the ex that you were seeing for five years. How do you think that makes me look?” Minhyuk argues back. At Minhyuk’s words, Jungkook finds his blood freezing as he’s brought to an abrupt halt - just before he can escape the balcony. You, yourself, are at a loss of something to say.

“We’ve barely been seeing each other for two months! Why are you bringing that up now?” you cry in astonishment. Really, where had the come from?

“But isn’t that why our mother’s set us up? Because we’re both looking to get married? Isn’t that where this is supposed to be going? Yet, here you are. With your ex-boyfriend. Who you’ve paid more attention to than me this entire night, by the way,” Minhyuk points out. Spluttering at his words, your cheeks heat as you know you’ve been caught. The hairs on your arms stand erect, and immediately, you know that Jungkook is staring at you - but you refuse to look at him. You don’t want to see the expression on his face right now.

Instead, you decide to keep your attention directly on Minhyuk, “yes, this is where it’s supposed to be going, but-” you reply, only for Minhyuk to cut you off once again.

“But nothing. I like you, a lot. And I know we’ve only known each other two months, but I can see us having a life together. Is that not what you want? Isn’t that the reason we’re together in the first place? Do you not want to marry me? Say you’ll marry me and I’ll drop this right now,” Minhyuk finally says, his previous anger and insecurity at seeing you and Jungkook together dissipating. He levels you with his sincere gaze, the unanswered ultimatum heavy in the air.

Unable to help yourself any longer, you momentarily shift your gaze to Jungkook. It’s brief - barely a second - but it’s all you need. The utter look of despair is clearly evident on his face, a mixture of heartbreak and anguish painted so very clearly across his features. It reminds you of the day you’d broken up with him; reminds you of how he’d looked when you’d walked out on him.

Flashback - nine months ago

One lazy Sunday, you find yourself in the apartment you share with your boyfriend. The two of you are sprawled on the couch, barely dressed: Jungkook with only his boxers and socks, and you in his large t-shirt and panties. You’d both considered getting dressed, but had decided against it - especially since neither of you had any plans to leave the house. Hence, you find yourself pressed against Jungkook, your back comfortably flush against his strong chest, your head easily finding the perfect resting spot in the crook where his collarbone meets his neck.

Absentmindedly, Jungkook plays with the hem of your underwear, fiddling with elasticated lace as you scroll through Netflix. The film titles pass in a blur as you look for something to watch. Catching the attention of one title, you can't help but fixate on it for a bit. "Kook?" you call out to your boyfriend softly. You angle your head to look up at him while shifting your head onto his shoulder, so you can see him clearly. Jungkook hums non-committally as he glances at you from the corner of his eyes.

"What's up, sweetheart? Wait- if this is just to ask me if we can watch Zootropolis again, you know my answer is always yes," Jungkook says, his eyes twinkling in excitement. A light giggle escapes your lips but you shake your head.

"No. I just- we've been together five years now, yes?" you ask, turning your head back to stare at the TV. Jungkook's eyebrows furrow slightly, and he moves his head so he can better look at you.

"Yes? What about it?"

"Well-" you begin. Briefly you pause, worrying your lower lip, "do you think we'll get married?" you breathe out. Jungkook stills, the hand that had been mindlessly playing with the lace material of your underwear coming to a halt.

"What?" he asks, his chest rumbling under you.

"Well, have you thought about us getting married? Like, we've been together a while now, but I don't think we've ever really spoken about it," you sigh out. Ideally, you wanted to marry Jungkook - because, after five years, you're sure he's the one for you.

"Honestly?" Jungkook asks. Anxiousness pools in the pits of your stomach as you hear the slight trepidation in his voice. It's barely there - but you know Jungkook well enough to spot the tell-tale sign of his worriment.

"Honestly," you reiterate his statement, letting him know you want nothing but the truth.

Jungkook sighs, "honestly, I've never really thought about it," he breathes out. Immediately, you jerk, sitting up as you twist to look at him. Shifting so you're in a more comfortable position, you sit on his stomach, your thighs straddling his waist. Instinctively, Jungkook's hands fall onto your thighs. You look at him in a mixture of shock and disbelief, Jungkook returning his own expectant gaze.

"You've never thought about us getting married?" you sputter out, completely baffled by his words. How has he not thought about it? You've been together five years now. That's an awfully long time - surely, he's thought about it at some point. Not to mention, you're both twenty-seven now, almost thirty. So how has he not thought about it? You know you have. In fact, you dream about the day you walk down the aisle, Jungkook on the other side. Hell, you dream about a life with him; a family - because you know he's all you want.

"Sweetheart-" Jungkook starts, and you look pointedly at him, "listen- it's nothing to do with you. It's just, we're still young. I do love you, you know that, but I just never really thought about it," he continues. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you cock your head in question.

"Never?" you enquire. Jungkook simply shrugging.

"Not really," comes his simple reply.

“How?” you question, looking at him in confusion. Distinctly, you remember having light conversations with Jungkook. Conversations where you’d joke about being married, conversations about your wedding or your future together.

“What do you mean how?” Jungkook asks dumbly, causing you to frown.

“I mean- I know we’ve joked about it before. I’ve mentioned wanting to get married before, I know I have,” you point out.

“Yeah… but I thought you were joking and other than that, I’ve never seriously thought about it,” Jungkook says casually. You suck in a sharp breath at his words. He hadn’t ever seriously considered it? Fear settles in your stomach at his words. You’d always just assumed you and Jungkook would eventually get married - but he hadn’t ever seriously thought about it?

"Well... do you want to get married?" you ask plainly. Jungkook smirks at you, the corners of his lips twisting into a teasing, lop-sided smile.

"Are you asking?" he jokes. However, you're in no mood to play games. This is important to you - because your boyfriend of five years just admitted that he hadn't ever considered a future with the two of you together.

"Jungkook, I'm being serious," you say - your voice is soft, yet firm. Sensing the seriousness to your tone, the smile on Jungkook's face falls and he sits up. His movement displaces you from his stomach, and you find yourself moving to sit on the couch while looking at him expressionlessly.

"____, I don't know. As I said, I've never really thought about it," Jungkook reiterates.

"Well think about it now! Do you want to get married or no?" you ask, anxiousness bubbling in your veins. This conversation certainly hasn't gone the way you had expected it to. When you'd first asked Jungkook, it had just been an off-handed question, because really, why wouldn't he have thought about getting married. Now? You're not so sure.

"I- I don't know," Jungkook mutters. Face falling in despair, you get up off of the couch and walk into your bedroom. What did he mean he didn't know? Five years. You've been together five years, and he still doesn't know? Without a second thought, Jungkook follows you into your bedroom, watching in confusion as you begin getting dressed.

"Sweetheart? Are you mad at me?" he asks, causing you to snort derisively.

"Are you really asking me that right now?" you snap in response. Jungkook reels back at the irritation in your voice.

"Why? Because I said I don't know if I want to get married? Why is that a problem? I still love you- you know that," your boyfriend argues.

"The problem isn't that you love me Jungkook. It's that you just admitted you haven't thought about our future together," you cry back. Sensing your upset, Jungkook quickly walks up to you. He places his hands on your arms, gently rubbing up and down as he cooes gently at you.

"Baby, that's not what I meant. It's just, we're still young you know? And it's not like we have to get married to each other to prove anything. I love you, and you love me, isn't that enough?" Jungkook asks softly, trying his best to placate you. Tears forming in your eyes, you shake your head and push his hands away.

"But I want to get married Jungkook. But you don't even know if you want to get married," you reply back, your bottom lip quivering. You take in a deep breath in an attempt to hold yourself together.

"But I could... maybe," Jungkook replies. Though, you both hear the clear uncertainty in his voice. His words, paired with his tone, only has your heart breaking.

"Do you? It doesn't have to be now, but do you see us getting married? A simple yes or no. That's all I'm asking for," you breathe out.

Through tear-filled eyes, you watch your boyfriend contemplate your question. One minute passes. Then two. But he's no closer to giving you your answer. With every second that passes, your anguish grows into grief-stricken distress. Multiple times, Jungkook opens and closes his mouth, and each time, hope blooms in your chest, only to die when he closes his mouth. Long, excruciating moments pass, and you all but abandon hope, when finally he says something.

"I don't know," Jungkook replies. The very moment his words ring in your ears, that small inkling of hope within your chest in crushes. A sob escapes your lips and you feel your knees buckle. Distress painted on Jungkook's face, he reaches out to comfort you, but you back away from him, causing your boyfriend to flinch.

"Will you ever know?" you whisper hopelessly.

"I don't know," comes Jungkook's answer once again.

"Then I don't know if I can do this," you whisper back. Jungkook's head snaps up to you, his eyes wide as he looks at you in disbelief.

"What? What do you mean?" he chokes out, barely able to get the words out. Throat constricting, you swallow thickly as you choke back a sob.

"I don't know if I can still do this. Jungkook, I want to get married. I want to marry you. I dream about walking down the aisle to you, I dream about children - our children. I dream about a life with you. But you-" you stop as your voice cracks with emotion. Taking a deep breath, you pull yourself together once again, "but you don't know if you even want to get married and that... that just tells me you haven't thought about our future together," you finally manage to say, your voice strained.

"We're still young. We have so much time to think about that," Jungkook argues, causing you to shake your head.

"We're twenty-seven Jungkook. We've been together for five years. That's a long time, so why haven't you ever considered us getting married? Not even moments ago you admitted that you've never thought about it. How do you think that makes me feel?" you cry.

"I don't know! It wasn't on my mind. I think about you but I- I just don't know if I want to get married. Why is that a big deal?" Jungkook asks, even as anguish colours his veins at the sight of your heartbreak.

"It's a big deal to me! It's a big deal because like I said, that's what I want!" you practically yell. Taking another deep breath, you sniffle, "I don't think I can do this," you repeat once again. Again, your voice cracks, but Jungkook despairs at the resolution in it.

"What are you saying?" he chokes out, not wanting to believe it. You can't mean it. You can't be saying what he thinks you're saying.

"I'm saying- I'm saying we should break up," you finally say. You practically have to force the words out of your mouth - because, despite everything, every fibre of your being is still in love with Jungkook - still wants to be with Jungkook. But this isn't something you think you can compromise on.

"No," Jungkook blurts out. "N-no. Please, no," he practically begs. Once again he steps up to you, and once again, you step away from him - desperately needing the distance between you. "W-why? Why can't we wait until I know? Please, why can't we wait until I'm ready?" Jungkook pleads. Sucking in a deep breath, you shake your head as you look away. You want to. You desperately want to take his word for it, want to fall into his arms and forget this conversation. But you just can't.

"I c-can't," you express, "because what if we continue for another two, or three or five years, only for you to tell me you still don't want to get married? I don't want to start all over again in my thirties, Jungkook. I don't want to be in love with your a few more years, only for you to eventually decide you still don't want to get married," you reply softly.

"But we don't know if that'll happen!" Jungkook tries arguing and this time, you turn to him. Jungkook freezes at your face, the resolute sadness in your eyes breaking his heart. His heart constricts in his chest as he sees unwavering stubbornness, mixed with heartache and sorrow, in your eyes.

"Exactly Jungkook. We don't know. If you don't know now, after five years of being together, I don't know if you'll know in another few years. And I can't take that chance," you finally utter.

"____, please don't do this. I love you," Jungkook sobs brokenly. Unable to look him in the eyes anymore - unable to stand the utter devastation written on his face - you look away.

"I'm sorry," you whisper softly.

And then, you walk away.

By the time you’re drawn out of your reverie, Jungkook is long gone. In his stead, stands Minhyuk, who looks at you expectantly. ‘Say you’ll marry me.’ Minhyuk’s voice once again rings through your head and you can’t help but feel queasy at the statement. You had broken up with Jungkook because you wanted to get married - and you do. But, is Minhyuk who you want to marry? As harsh as it is, marrying Minhyuk feels like… you’re settling - and that doesn’t sit well with you. But what do you do now? What if this was your only chance? You’re twenty-seven now and you hadn’t lied to Jungkook when you said you didn’t want to wait another five years only for things to fall apart if he decided he still didn’t want to get married.

But this doesn’t feel right.

You and Minhyuk stare at each other, Minhyuk patiently waiting for your answer. Except, you have no idea what you want to say. Your skin flushes with heat and you feel panic set into your bones while your stomach flips. Blood rushes through your ears, the sound drowning out everything else as you simply stare at Minhyuk. Though, you’re not really looking at him. No, because even now, with Minhyuk standing in front of you and Jungkook long gone, there’s only one person on your mind.

The same person who’s been on your mind the entire night.

Abruptly, Hoseok’s words ring through your head. ‘You’re strong - but you’re also smart. Smart enough to know what you want.’ Your brother’s voice plays over and over in your head - like a broken vinyl - until it’s all you can hear. Then, a spark of epiphany courses through your head, and the dawning of revelation washes over you.

You do know what you want - more than anything.

And you know what you have to do now.

It's almost two in the morning when Jungkook finds himself outside of your apartment. He doesn't know how long he's sat there, back against the wall and knees up to his chest as he stares at your flat door. After he'd left Hoseok's apartment, he found his feet walking to a bar, and after about an hour of drinking, he'd walked home. Well, he'd meant to walk home. But, somehow, in his tipsy-fogged mind, he'd automatically walked to your building and then up to your flat. A while after that, he'd just sat outside your door, contemplating whether he should knock or not. The largest part of him desperately wanted to knock - and multiple times, fueled by the courage of the alcohol - he almost had. However, each time, the smaller part of him would stop himself, unable to actually follow through. What if you'd said yes to Minhyuk? What if you didn't want to see him? What if you're with Minhyuk? Jungkook doesn't know what he'd do if he knocks, only to find Minhyuk on the other side of the door.

Head repeatedly banging against the wall behind him, Jungkook stares at the gold plated numbers of your door. With every second that passes, the alcohol in his system slowly fades away and Jungkook finds himself sobering. But still, he doesn't leave. He can't bring himself to get up and walk away. It's late enough that sleep should begin fogging his mind, but again, not knowing whether you said yes or no to Minhyuk would eat away at him - and he knows he'd be restless and unable to sleep until he finds out. Yet, he just cannot bring himself to knock. So, instead, he just sits outside your apartment. Waiting for something. Anything.

For you.

Another hour passes and you still don't come. Jungkook lets out a shuddering breath, his head falling into his hands. Mentally, he draws up a pros and cons list of knocking - and yet, each time, he scraps them all. Even with all the cons: you could be engaged to Minhyuk, you could be with Minhyuk, you could be moving on with Minhyuk; Jungkook can't help but consider the pros: you could have said no, you could be alone, you could be waiting for him. It's that last one that he dreads. There's a small chance you couldbe waiting for him and that has hope flaring in his chest. But in this situation, hope is the most crushing thing in existence - because it's only a small chance - and his hope could be crushed the minute you answer the door.

A part of him believes you had to have said to yes - you just had to have - because that's what you wanted, wasn't it? You wanted to get married. So, what reason would you have to say no? But that small, niggling voice in Jungkook head won't stop speaking - won't stop telling him that he's a reason you would have said no. Nevertheless, Jungkook knows that voice comes from his hope - and as he's mentioned - hope is the worst thing he has right now.

"You can't keep doing this, Jungkook. It's been nine months. You should move on- like she is," Jungkook mutters to himself out loud. He has no doubt that if anyone sees him, they'd think he was some sort of crazy person, but Jungkook also doesn't care. Over and over, he repeats the sentences to himself and eventually, he gets up, ready to leave.

But then he stops.

Turning back to your door, he takes in a shuddering breath, and before he can stop himself - or even rethink his spontaneous decision - he finds himself knocking. Because he desperately needs to know if he's lost you once and for all. Then, he waits again.

And still waits.

Time moves excruciatingly slowly - the seconds agonisingly passing away. Momentarily, Jungkook considers knocking again - maybe you're asleep, maybe you didn't hear him. But the adrenaline-induced courage has long since faded after he knocked, and once again he finds himself turning away.

However, then, he hears it: the clinking of a chain.

The door creaks open slowly, Jungkook sucking in a sharp breath as he spots you. You're dressed in a large hoodie - and hope flares in his chest as he recognises it. It's hishoodie. He thought he'd misplaced it a while ago - but no, apparently it was just with you. But why? Why hadn't you returned it to him?

As soon as the door is wide open, you stare in disbelief at the sight in front of you. Rubbing your blood-shot eyes, your mouth drops slightly as you realise you're not imagining it. Jungkook is standing in front of you. Why is Jungkook standing in front of you?

"J-Jungkook?" you stutter out, bewilderment heavy in your voice.

"I'm sorry," Jungkook blurts out. Taken aback by his sudden apology, your eyebrow furrows.

"W-What? Why are you sorry?" you ask, unsure of what's happening. You'd just been crying in bed - desperately wishing for Jungkook - so, when you'd opened your door only to see him, you'd thought you were dreaming. And now? Well, now you're just confused. What does he have to be sorry about?

"I made a mistake. You were right- I didn't- I never thought about our future together. I never considered getting married, or whether we'd have a family together and it's because I was comfortable. I grew comfortable in our relationship and I took it for granted. I took you for granted," Jungkook breathes out. His words fall so quickly from his lips, he practically rambles, and you really have to strain to understand his words. "After five years together, I just got so used to us. I thought I'd always have you, and so, marriage or a family didn't even cross my mind - but it should have. I should have thought about our future together. I'm sorry that I didn't, and I'm sorry that I thought about it too late," Jungkook continues. Once again, he pauses, taking a deep breath as he thinks about what to say next. But if he's being honest, he doesn't really know what else to say.

Shoulders deflating, Jungkook runs a weary hand through his hair, and suddenly, he looks more harried than you've seen him in a long time. "I'm just- I'm sorry I didn't think about it back then. I'm just sorry," Jungkook finishes lamely. There's more on the tip of his tongue: I miss you, I want you, I love you; but he can't bring himself to say them. Not when you could be happy with Minhyuk. He can't do that to you - he'd broken your heart that day - when he'd openly admitted he'd never thought about a future with you - and now, you have a chance with someone else. And he can't take that away from you, even if it breaks his heart to let you go. Left reeling by his words, they play over and over in your mind, and it takes all your brainpower to reallyunderstand them - but in your stunned daze, you don't say anything - and Jungkook doesn't know what to make of it.

So, instead, "I guess, that's what I wanted to say. I- I hope you're happy with Minhyuk," he chokes out. Sluggishly, you realise that Jungkook is walking away - and that's all it takes to restart your brain.

"W-what if I'm not happy? What would you do if I wasn't happy?" you rasp, your voice straining. Jungkook freezes at your words, his blood running cold. Then, he whips around so quickly, you fear he'd get whiplash. However, Jungkook doesn't care. Rather, his eyes swiftly rake over your face, searching for something, anything to confirm what'd he'd just heard. He finds it in your eyes; in the way they silently beg him to continue, plead with him to say everything on his mind.

Helpless under your imploring gaze, Jungkook finds his tongue unravelling as he lays his feelings at your feet. "I'd ask for a second chance. A chance to make you happy and give you what you want," Jungkook breathes out. Your eyes widen in the slightest at his proclamation.

Is he saying what you think he is?

Incredulity painted as clear as day on your face and sliver of hope evident in your eyes, Jungkook's face softens slightly. He wasn't lying - when Minhyuk had proposed the ultimatum, Jungkook had felt his heartbreak - and when he'd sat in the bar, all he could think about was you. More importantly, all he could think about was the missed opportunity. He imagined what you'd look like on your wedding day. How happy would you be? Would you look as radiantly beautiful as he imaged you to be? Would you smile in that carefree, captivating way that you did? But then, he grew maudlin - because he realised that if you did, it wouldn't be for him - and that broke his heart. It broke his heart to imagine you marrying someone that wasn't him, smiling for someone who wasn't him, creating a family with someone that wasn't him.

Nothing but sincerity in his voice, Jungkook continues, "I'd ask for you to take me back and to marry you. Because that's what I want - as long as it's with you," Jungkook finishes.

Throat clogged up with the heavy weight of your emotions, you swallow thickly, "then ask," you choke out. Your words are simple - and practically inaudible - but in the stillness of the empty corridor, and the quiet of the night, Jungkook hears it as clear as day.

"But- But what about Minhyuk?" Jungkook asks, unsure about whether he should or not. Hope flares in his chest at your words - but he doesn't want to believe them. Not yet, at least.

"Ask anyway," you simply say.

"Will you-" Jungkook begins, but the instant he opens his mouth, you're cutting him off.

"Yes," you reply - not even waiting for him to finish. It doesn't matter what he said. It doesn't matter if the words to follow are 'give me a second chance' or 'marry me' because all that matters is that he's back. All that matters is that he's willing to think about your future together - and right now, that's enough for you.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say-mpf," Jungkook begins, only to be stopped short when you pull him in for a kiss.

The instant his lips touch yours, you feel your entire body become electrified. Your veins are set afire with love, Jungkook's soft lips pressed against yours in a sweet kiss. Instinctively, Jungkook's arms wrap around your waist, his hands pulling your body flush against his as he feels you for the first time in months. You taste the same as you always have - temptingly sweet - and your body against his feels exquisite: your curves and contours fitting perfectly against his body. Sinking into this kiss, and consequently Jungkook, you sigh against his lips while you let your hands wander across his broad shoulder, before carding them into his hair.

Brief moments later, Jungkook breaks off your kiss; his forehead falling to rest against yours as he stares deeply into your eyes. His hands move to cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek tenderly as he lazily peppers soft kisses against your lips. Despite the softness of the moment, Jungkook can't stop wondering about Minhyuk - a sentiment he expresses to you in concern.

"I couldn't do it. I couldn't say yes," you reply, your eyes holding nothing but the truth. Jungkook's eyebrows knit together, and you find yourself giggling at the adorable expression. After a light peck against his lips, you move to rest your head against his chest, your eyes slipping shut as you feel his steady heartbeat under your ear. "I couldn't do it, because even then, you were all I could think about. I thought I wanted to get married, and I did - I do - but I realised, I didn't want to marry just anyone. I wanted to marry you," you confess. Jungkook's heart soars in his chest and helpless under your spell, he finds himself pulling you in for another kiss.

However, this time, it's different. This time, your kiss isn't slow, or soft. No, it's needier - Jungkook’s pouring out his entire heart into your kiss as he bruises his lips against you. Gasping against his lips, your fists clench around Jungkook’s leather jacket - using the material to pull him closer into you. You pull away from Jungkook’s lips, breathing heavily against his lips as you stare up at him through the thick of your eyelashes.

“Do you want to come in?” you breathily ask. Jungkook pauses for a moment.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to-” he begins refuting. However, you’re already pressing kisses against his jaw - lightly nipping the sensitive spot just above his Adam’s apple.

“I’m sure. I’ve missed you,” you rasp out, your voice coming out breathier than you anticipated. Jungkook’s eyes dilate at your words, and before you know what’s happening, he’s leading you into your apartment.

The both of you barely make it into your apartment, before Jungkook is slamming the door shut and pushing you up against the hard wood. Caging you between his arms, Jungkook’s lips fall upon yours again, his lips moving in a frenzied fashion this time. Instinctively, your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him closer into you. Jungkook lets out a soft growl against your lips before pulling away. Peppering kisses along your jaw, he trails down the column of your throat before nuzzling his face into the juncture of your shoulder.

“God- I’ve missed you,” Jungkook whispers as he breathes in your calming scent. Own hands threading into his hair, you lazily play with the locks at the nape of his neck.

“I missed you too. A lot,” you moan out as Jungkook begins to suckle bruises onto the tender flesh of your throat.

“Is that why you’re wearing my hoodie?” Jungkook asks, curiosity winning out on him. Not that you don’t look good in it - in fact, seeing you dressed in his clothing is one of Jungkook’s favourite things.

“Maybe,” you reply coyly, “what are you going to do about it?” you continue. Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath at the teasing lilt to your voice and immediately, drops to his knees. You jerk at the sudden movement, your eyes widening marginally at the sight of Jungkook on his knees.

“If this was any other time, I’d teach you a lesson. But right now, I’ve missed you too much, and you look good enough to eat,” Jungkook groans out as he runs his nose along the exposed flesh of your inner thigh. Your breath hitches at his words, Jungkook’s large hands slowly wrapping around your thighs before he parts your legs. Tenderly, his hands run up the back of your thighs, and gripping the flesh of your ass, he pulls your hips further into him.

Running his nose against the cotton of your panties, Jungkook takes in a deep breath before groaning as the heady scent of your arousal runs through his nose. He pushes his hoodie further up your hips, his lips gently tracing his way up the length of your thigh. Positioned just over your hip, Jungkook places a tender kiss above where your bone is. Then, he bites down on the waistband of your panties before slowly sliding it down your legs. When he gets to the crooks of your thighs, he lets go of it, letting the material drop to the floor.

You step out of your underwear and spread your legs - making more room for Jungkook. Gripping one of your thighs, he pulls it to rest over his shoulder, exposing your pussy to his gaze. Dark, lust-filled eyes rove over your folds, Jungkook shuddering as the scent of your arousal deepens. Your sex is slightly dewy, glistening in the low lighting of your living room. Biting his lip, Jungkook edges closer to your folds before tentatively licking a line: all the way from your core to your clit.

“Oh fuck,” you groan out, your head lolling back while one of your hands shoots out to tangle into his thick hair. Hearing your low groan, Jungkook smirks against your pussy before repeating the action. Spikes of pleasure run up and down your spine, your eyelids fluttering as you lose yourself into the pleasure he brings upon your body.

Moving one hand, Jungkook presses two fingers against the petals of your sex before parting his digits in a ‘V’ shape and consequently your folds. With your pussy exposed, Jungkook once again licks a thick line from your dripping, honeyed entrance, all the way to your engorged bud. He licks harder this time, his tongue lapping in a broad line as he gathers your heady essence onto his tongue. Your arousal bathes his tastebuds, and with his nose pressed against the hood of your clit - all he can taste, all he can breathe is you.

Soft lips wrap around your clit, Jungkook pulling the sensitive bud into his mouth before lightly suckling on it. His ministrations cause you to gasp - the sound quickly morphing into a heavy moan when his nips your throbbing clit. Tangling your fingers further into his hair, you slowly undulate your hips, pushing them further into Jungkook as you tug on his hair, trying to get him to move fast.

Sensing the urgency in your movements, Jungkook rakes his teeth over your clit in warning once again. Then, breaking away with a pop, “Be patient, darling,” Jungkook breathes out. The lusty fog of your desire rolls thickly into your head, clouding your mind and setting your flesh aflame with want and through your wanton need, you barely hear Jungkook’s words. Instead, the feel of Jungkook’s warm breath wafting over your wet folds has you shuddering in pleasure.

“Kook,” you whine needily, desperation heavy in the high pitch of your voice.

With his face buried between your thighs, you can’t see his face. But you don’t have to. You can feel the smirk on his lips. Not that you really care - because he’s currently swirling his tongue around your clit tantalisingly and subsequently driving you to the brink of insanity. Lightly, he moves the two fingers that have you spread open. You shudder at the featherlight touch, feeling him softly ghost his fingertips over the outline of your folds before circling your entrance. His touch has your core clenching, your pussy walls fluttering around his fingertips.

“Fuck- I forgot how fucking sensitive your pussy is,” Jungkook moans against your clit. His words are slightly muffled, and the vibration of his voice shoots straight from your clit to the pits of your belly. Loins heating with pleasure, you feel your stomach twist and knot as Jungkook laps kittenish licks against your clit. Teasingly, Jungkook continues circling his fingertip against your entrance, feeling the way strings of your sticky wetness drip out of you before they cling to his digit.

Drawing away from your clit, Jungkook slowly pulls his finger away; his throat drying as he watches the thin, filmy strings of your arousal drip from your pussy and onto his finger. The thick rivulets stretch as he pulls away - and the moment one of them snaps - Jungkook is unable to stop himself from pressing his head back between your thighs. Tongue plunging into your core, his swirls his wet appendage around your cunt, groaning as thick streams of arousal drip onto his tongue.

“Oh fuck- Kook,” you mewl, your head falling back and hitting the door with a light thud. The pain barely registers in your mind, your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as your pussy flutters around his tongue. Helpless against your needy whine, Jungkook pushes two fingers into your depths, your body jerking at the sudden intrusion as you tug at his hair reflexively. Twisting his fingers into you, Jungkook pumps his digits in and out, relishing in the feel of your silken, pulsating walls around his appendages as he continues eating you out - almost ravenously.

Gripping his locks tightly, you gyrate harder into his mouth. Waves of pleasure flit over your skin, your blood boiling with ecstasy as you feel the warmth in your belly begin to heat up. When Jungkook spreads your entrance using his fingers, his tongue plunging deeper into you, you let out a cry of pleasure. God, you’d forgotten just howgood Jungkook’s mouth was. Mouth and throat running dry, you swallow thickly before panting out his name over and over again. The once dull warmth begins burning your loins; searing, white-hot pleasure running up and down your flesh, your skin prickling with goosebumps as you feel your orgasm approaching.

“Please-” you groan out, the guttural sound intermingling with the wet, sloppy sounds of Jungkook eating you out. Thighs quivering against his ears, Jungkook pushes his fingers deeper into you. Expertly, he finds the sweet spot inside you, his fingers crooking at the knuckle as he strokes the spongy spot. Reflexively, your hand tugs his hair harshly while your knees buckle under the euphoria of your approaching orgasm.

“Are you cumming, baby? You wanna cum on my tongue?” Jungkook taunts, a teasing lilt to his voice. Swallowing thickly, it’s all you can do to simply rasp out his name. Knowing he has you on the verge of ecstasy, Jungkook doubles his efforts - his fingers pistoning inside you quicker as he wraps his wet lips around your clit.

“God, your pussy tastes so fucking good. I missed you - missed the way your pretty little pussy feels around my tongue,” Jungkook grunts out. Another whine of pleasure escapes your lips, your hips jolting into his face when the pads of his finger stroke your g-spot.

“Cumming-” you gasp out, your voice cracking under the pleasure.

“Then cum baby- cum all over my tongue. I wanna taste you- wanna drink you up,” Jungkook urges. The filthiness of his words, paired with the way he harshly sucks your clit, instantly has you cumming.

A loud mewl escaping your lip, you whine out his name. Your eyes roll back into your skull, your visions filled with white spots as your orgasm ricochets through you. Feeling you come undone above him, Jungkook rips his fingers out of you, his hands gripping your flesh and fingers digging into your skin as he holds your violently trembling thighs. The scent of your arousal thickens deeply, and Jungkook watches with dilated eyes as thick ropes of cum drip out of your cunt and down your thighs.

Placing his lips against your entrance, Jungkook slurps at your cum, swallowing it thickly and relishing in your taste. You whine out his name, your knees buckling from the power of your orgasm - and if it weren’t for Jungkook’s strong grip, you’re sure you’d drop to the floor. Gasping for air, you slowly come down from the high of your orgasm, Jungkook patiently waiting for you to descend down to reality.

Tenderly, your boyfriend places affectionate kisses along the length of your thigh, softly cooing at you while he whispers sweet nothings against your flesh. A soft smile tugs at your lips and you untangle your fingers from their vice-like grip on his locks. Instead, you softly play with the strands, marvelling at their silk-like texture. Jungkook always had beautiful hair, but with how long it is currently, you can reallyadmire it.

“Kook- want you,” you mew. Jungkook chuckles at the soft neediness in your voice.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Jungkook says before he gathers you in his arms. Gently, he brings you to the floor with him. Still swimming in the haziness of your orgasm, you feel Jungkook swiftly divest himself off his clothing, until he’s left naked. Once done, Jungkook gathers you into his arms once again. He shifts you so your thighs are straddling his, your body propped against his strong chest as his back rests against the door to your apartment.

Unable to help yourself, you rest your head against his shoulder, your hands indolently running over his skin as you finally feel him under your touch. You trace every muscle of his upper body - from the corded flesh of his biceps, to the taut skin of his abdomen; and then towards his broad, defined shoulders. Jungkook’s arms wrap around your waist, his hands running up the hem of his hoodie and flitting up your skin before he divests you off the article of clothing - leaving you both naked.

Shuddering at the feel of the night’s crisp air against your skin, you snuggle closer into Jungkook’s warmth, letting his presence wash over you. “I missed you,” you mumble against his skin. Jungkook’s face softens and he nods, his head dropping so he can press a kiss to your shoulder. His long hair tickles your skin and you relish in the featherlight touch.

Not wanting to wait any longer - and more than desperate to feel him inside of you - you flex your thighs, picking yourself up. One hand feels out for Jungkook’s cock, and easily finding the shaft, you grip the base before pressing it against your entrance. Feeling the bulbous head push against your entrance, you let out a soft whine before slowly descending down onto him. Slowly, he spreads out your walls, his thick girth stretching you out for the first time in months. It’s been a while since you’ve had Jungkook and the sheer size of him has a dull pain stinging at your pussy walls - but you don’t mind so much. No, in fact, you cherish it - because you’d sorely missed how transcendent he’d felt stretching out your pussy to its brim.

“Oh fuck- God, you’re so fucking tight. You feel so good,” Jungkook groans out, his cock twitching with every inch he sinks into you. Jungkook’s arms wrap around you, holding your naked chest flush against his as you continue your descent onto his cock. When he finally bottoms out, his balls resting just under your ass, you let out a little whimper, your fingers clawing into his shoulder.

“You good, baby?” Jungkook asks, his lips skimming the outline of your collarbone.

“Yeah- you feel- so good,” you gasp out. Jungkook gives you a couple of moments to adjust to the feel of him - and then, he’s gripping your hips before lifting them up for you. You cry out in pleasure as you feel his cock retreat out of you, only for Jungkook to thrust upwards, plunging the entire length of his shaft.

The two of you begin moving in tandem with each other: Jungkook helping you move on top of him while simultaneously impaling his cock into you. With every one of his movements, you feel pleasure run through your veins. Every time he plunges the entirety of his cock inside of you, you let out short gasps, your toes curling in pleasure. Moving slowly, you take the time to simply feel each other - the ardent fire of your lust and love burning bright in the pits of both your bellies as you sink into unadulterated pleasure.

Your slow, sensual pace continues for a little while longer - but you can slowly feel Jungkook’s desperation increasing with each thrust. His hands begin wandering over your hips and around to hold your ass. Fingers digging into the soft flesh, he grips your ass tightly before bouncing you harder ontop of him. Need fills his every movement - Jungkook’s thrusts becoming rougher. You bounce on top of him, your entire body shaking as Jungkook thrusts harder and harder into you. Changing the angle of his hips, Jungkook plunges his cock against your sweet spot, the head of his cock brushing it with every impalement of his hips.

“I’m cumming, baby,” Jungkook warns. Not that he really needs to, you can feel his cock throb erratically inside you, twitching every now and then as your walls clench rhythmically around his shaft - massaging his entire length.

“Cum, baby. Cum in me. Wanna feel you deep in me,” you say softly, your hands softly massaging his shoulders. Jungkook lets out a little groan, pulling your hips harder down onto him as he tries to push his cock as deep as he can into you.

“Cum with me. Play with yourself. Wanna feel you cum around my cock,” Jungkook urgers, and you find yourself growing wetter at the authority present in his voice. Unable to deny him anything, you twist one arm between your body and begin expertly playing with your clit. The additional pleasure has you crying out in ecstasy. All of a sudden, you feel heat rush through your veins, your lips parting in a silent scream as you cum for a second time.

Feeling your walls clamp around him tightly, paired with the gushing of your cum around his cock, Jungkook let’s out a little groan. “Oh fuck,” he moans. Then with two stilted thrusts, he plunges his cock as deep as he can into you before cumming with a soft roar. His cock twitches inside your walls before he shoots rope after rope of hot cum inside you. You groan at the feel of his warmth, your toes curling in pleasure as the base of your spine tingles.

Jungkook holds you to him tightly, clutching your body to his as you both gasp and pant for air. The haziness of your euphoric high slowly abates, until you’re both left clinging to each other. Eventually, the white spots in your vision clear and you slowly pull away from him. You take in the sight of Jungkook, completely spent and sweat-soaked locks clinging to his forehead. Hearing you giggle, Jungkook opens one eye to peek at you.

“Stop laughing at me,” he pouts. Once again, you giggle at him, and then let yourself fall against him. Exhaustion weighs down your muscles and you find yourself snuggling into Jungkook’s chest, sleep already replacing the lust-filled fog that clouds your head.

“I can’t help it if you’re so cute,” you mumble sleepily. Jungkook bites his lips, lightly snorting through his nose. However, he simply doesn’t have the energy to argue with you. Instead, he sits quietly while attempting to catch his breath.

Eventually, he decides he’s had enough of a rest - but when he turns to you, you’re already deeply asleep, a small smile on your lips. Tenderly, Jungkook tuts, but there’s no real ire in it. Gathering you in his arms, he picks you up, wincing when his muscles protest the movement. Ignoring the pain, he carries you into your bedroom before gently depositing under the cover.

Fatigue quickly overcomes him, and it’s all Jungkook can do to not collapse beside you. Holding off, however, he manages to sluggishly pull himself under the cover. Once under the thick sheets, Jungkook shifts closer to you before he pulls you into his arms. You’re both sticky - your skin covered in a light sheen of perspiration - and it’s slightly uncomfortable, but Jungkook doesn’t care.

He’d be damned if he spent one more night without you in his arms.

a/n: owo i hope you enjoyed it! please don’t forget to tell me what you thought 🥺

⇥ Masterlist

7K notes · View notes

blkgirlcafe · 3 years

Text

Professor Nasty

Professor! Florian Munteanu x Black! Reader

Warning: Public sex, unprotected sex, cheating, undefined age gap, dirty talking, slight degrading.

I keep my description of the reader pretty vague, make her how you want, but she black fosho. I am trying to get better at writing from a Y/N perspective, so any constructive criticism is welcomed.

Thank you @dersha98 for the inspiration and the ending. Thank you love!

University of Munich

Y/N tried to keep her eyes on the slides but it was nearly impossible. She never believed the hot professor stereotype until now.

Somehow she had gotten her dates mixed up and ended up registering for classes late. Which means all the good electives were taken. Y/N had gotten stuck with the two worst electives one could think of and she was sure to be in for a boring ass time. Public speaking and Romanian literature.

Public speaking was the worst to Y/N, because well it was public speaking. Every other week she was giving a speech, standing in front of a class of 30. It was nerve racking and she always needed a break after that class.

Romanian literature on the other hand surprised her. The professor was gorgeous, a man if she ever saw one.

Talk and built like a brick wall that she would happily run into. She sat up front, eyes tracing his each movement.

“So reports are due, please pass them up.”

Y/N pulled out the report that she put together less than 4 hours ago after reading the spark notes online. She hadn’t read most of the book, getting bored within the first 4 chapters.

Everyone knew that professors didn’t read these things, just grazed over and did a length check.

She quickly passed it forward and began to pack her stuff, last class of the day. Y/N couldn’t wait to get home and watch Netflix.

1 week later

A big bright red F was stamped on her paper. Not even a C or D. This would tank her grade in the class which would tank her GPA.

Y/N waited until the class was empty before approving Mr. Munteanu

Up close he was even more impressive of a man. He was solid built and smelled like mint and firewood. She liked it.

He didn’t even get her a chance to talk, “Your grade is your grade, stop staring off into space and maybe it could have been better.”

Y/N was shocked not expecting that out of the normally quiet professor.

“I’m sorry Mr. Munteanu, the book was just really hard for me to get into. Can I try another book? Please?”

Y/N tried her puppy eyes on him, hoping it would work like it would on her boyfriend.

“Read the whole book, cover to cover and instead of a 2 page report, I want 4. The highest you can get is a B.”

“Yes Sir, thank you Sir.”

The way he licked his lips made her look away, something inside her heating up at the thought of his tongue.

“When is it due?” She finally asked.

“I’ll give you a week, and Y/N don’t tell anyone. I don’t normally let students make up work.”

“I won’t, thanks again Mr. Munteanu.”

Y/N declined an invite to drinks, and lowkey ghosted her boyfriend to finish the paper. Once she got past the first 4 chapters the book was actually good. Lots of drama and sex which she wasn’t expecting.

She easily typed out a report after and printed it out. Excited to hand it back to him after class.

Y/N waited silently as Mr. Munteanu read her paper. His tall frame was casually leaned against the desk at the front of the auditorium. She fidgeted in her seat. Having him read it in front of her was nerve racking.

The paper dipped below his lips and Y/N found herself staring at his lips and how pink they were, wondering if they tasted as good as they looked.

“Miss Y/N, Y/N!”

Y/N snapped out her daydream, “Yes Sir.”

“I asked what is your favorite part of the book?”

Y/N chewed her lips, wondering if she should tell the truth. The book had a few steamy sex scenes and they were explained in graphic detail.

Y/N kind of shrugged, not wanting to answer him.

“Use your voice young lady.” His voice was stern, making her clench her thighs.

“The sex scenes Sir, they were just so real.”

One eyebrow shot up on his face.

Y/N felt her heart speed up, this was not a conversation she was prepared to have with him.

“Come here Miss Y/N.”

On shaky legs she made her way to where he was standing, he picked the book up off the desk and handed it to her.

“Show me your favorite part.”

Y/N flipped through the book she was handed. For some reason her hands were shaking, she found the part.

“This is it.” Y/N squeaked out.

“Read it Miss Y/N.”

Y/N gulped, praying her voice did not fail her, “ His soft touch sent flutters through her body, this is what it felt like to be touched by a man. An experienced man…”

Mr. Munteanu wrapped a large hand around her hip, Y/N gasped.

“Can I touch you?”

“Yes...please.”

Y/N cursed herself, already begging. Mr. Munteanu stood and Y/N felt surrounded by him, he towered over her, his scent engulfed her. Y/N tilted her face up, to look at him.

“Tell me you want this.” he barely whispered.

“I want this sir.”

Mr. Munteanu crashed his lips on hers, kissing her aggressively. Y/N kissed him back, biting back a moan as he grabbed her ass. She needed more, wanted more.

“Please Sir…” she broke the kiss.

“Please what sweetheart.”

Y/N wasnt sure what to ask, fuck my brains out sir, use me like a toy sir, do anything you want. The pad of this thumb traveled from her hip to her neck where he gently squeezed getting a moan out of Y/N.

“Don't make me ask twice.”

“Please fuck me Sir.”

Mr. Munteanu growled as his other hand yanked at her jeans, not even bothering to unbutton them, pulling them down.

Cold air hit Y/N wet pussy lips she was absolutely drenched from the little he had done. What happened next happened so quickly, Y/N head was still swirling. She was face down on the hard wooden desk, Mr. Munteanu running a thick digit up and down her slit. The clink of a belt was all that could be heard over both of their hard breathing.

“Fuck I wish I had more time.” his thick accent broke her out her spell.

“Please...I need you.” Once again begging like a whore to be fucked by an older man.

“Don't worry sweetheart, I am going to fuck you like a man should.”

His wet tip came in contact with her thigh as he guided the thick cock head towards her entrance. His pre cum mixed with her wetness as he pushed inside her, testing the limits of her walls.

A gasp left Y/N as his thickness filled her up, a painful stretch that quickly turned into pleasure. Mr. Munteanu pushed until their bodies were connected, Y/N walls fluttered around him, reacting to having such girth in them.

“Good girl, taking all of me.” he grunted.

Y/N moaned as he begin to fuck her, slow deep strokes that left her breathless. Y/N let out a loud fuck as he hit a particular spot.

“Have to be quiet for me baby, can't let them know what I am doing to you.”

“I cant...It feels so good...please more.” Y/N tried to bite her lip, to keep from getting too loud.

“You want them to know that you like older men, that you let me fuck and so quick.”

“Fuck Yes, please dont stop!”

“I'm not stopping until I flood that cunt.”

Mr. Munteanu lifted one of her legs, setting it on the desk, hitting even deeper on each stroke, a tingling that started in her core finally let go, Y/N toes curled as she had her first orgasm, breath hitched in her throat.

“Look at you, already cumming all over my dick. Imagine if I had you in a bed, the things I could do to you babygirl.”

Y/N head swam with the thoughts, the way he could use her body, she wanted that more than she wanted anything else right now.

“Does your boyfriend make you feel like this?”

He knows I have a boyfriend, Y/N though. Mr. Munteanu picked up the pace, slamming his hips into her.

“Tell me Y/N.” he said through clenched teeth.

“No Sir, you feel better.” Y/N cried out.

Y/N was being fucked so hard she swore the desk was moving, not that she cared, her second orgasm was sneaking up on her.

Moans, skin slapping and the occasional grunt filled the empty auditorium. Mr. Munteanu pulled out, flipping her over before laying her back on the desk. All Y/N could see was him and his extremely chiseled chest. Her ass was pulled to the edge of the desk, her ankles by his ears, thick dick at her wet entrance. Y/N fist clenched around nothing, riding out her second orgasm.

“Fuck, I am about to…” Mr. Munteanu never finished.

He flooded her unprotected pussy, something she didn't even let her boyfriend do. He kissed her legs and thighs as he pulled her legs down.

“I need more.” was the last thing he said as she rushed to put her pants back on and scurry out the door.

Y/N rushed across campus, she felt like everyone knew what just had happened, she felt like everyone knew that her professor cum was staining her panties. She made it to her boyfriend's apartment, praying he was not there, still at the gym, or at the pub with friends.

The whole way up all she could think was, I just had sex with Mr. Munteanu! In the same class that he taught me in. Y/N was going to have to stare at that desk for the rest of the semester. She got to his apartment and mentally cursed herself, she could hear him on the game already.

“Babe! Where have you been?” He asked her.

“I had to turn in that paper and he had me stay while he read it.” Y/N tried to quickly get down the hallway but Fynn wouldn't stop talking. Any other time he would be so engrossed in the game she could walk around stark naked and he wouldn't notice.

“I waited on you for dinner though, I am hungry babe.” he whined.

“Let me take a quick shower and I'll order your favorite.”

She should feel guilty that her boyfriend was waiting for her to return while she was having the best sexual experience of her life on a desk, with her professor, who was also her boyfriend professor. But all she could think about was two orgasms in less than ten minutes.

“Why are you walking funny baby?”

Y/N froze in her place, she just got fucked with the biggest dick she ever saw.

“Sprained my ankle earlier in heels, I need to put it up.”

Y/N quickly faked limped to the bathroom, turning the water up super high. She set her phone on the counter noticing a text from an unknown number.

Be free Friday evening -Flo

#florian munteanu #Florian Munteanu x reader #Florian Munteanu x black! reader #Florian Munteanu smut #black reader #smuttywriter #Creed #Black writers

311 notes · View notes

shotofire · 3 years

Note

hello ! hru ? plz if you dont mind, levi ackerman x reader (modern) doing to him "wipe away kisses prank", they're watching tv, his girlfriend kiss his lips then wipe it away acting like nothing happend xd thank you take care of yourself 🖤🖤

Hi!!! I’m great! Awe this is such a cute idea! and i’ve been wanting to write a modern fic. thank you so much for requesting my sweet! <3 you take care of yourself as well :p I sorta changed up the prank part a bit but it’s the same concept, I hope you enjoy.

•MODERN!LEVI x F!READER

•Warnings: cursing here and there, very very very slight mentions of smut

•Season: Not set within the show

Levi Ackerman wasn’t big on affection. So when he starting dating (y/n) it was a huge surprise for everyone. She had to be the most touchy person on the face of the Earth. Hugging people was a hobby of hers, and she liked to poke peoples sides for the fun of it.

The first time he’d met her was at a gathering Hanji had dragged him to with a few friends. The last thing he wanted to have to do was make small talk with some people he worked with. He was taken aback when a girl he’d never seen before was coming up to him with a sweet smile and arms open wide.

It was obvious that Levi acted different around her. Someone would do something little as put their arm around his shoulder and he’d flinch away. Then someone like her wrapped their arms around his middle and Hanji literally gasped out loud when he hugged (y/n) back.

After months went by of him seeing her at friend events, he asked her out on a proper date. The man hasn’t dated since he was in his early twenties so this was a game changer for him. No one saw the pair getting together, they were polar opposite.

That’s why Levi took such a liking to the women. She was nothing like him and it kept him interested. Everything she did was out of the kindness of her heart, and she was very into speaking her mind. Levi usually just said a simple sentence that was somewhat insulting and went about his day.

(y/n) on the other gave entire speeches of exactly what she was thinking, and wasn’t scared to call somebody out. He admired how big she was on helping anyone that she could. He didn’t even have to worry if the kindness was an anterior motive, he knew she didn’t like seeing people down.

“Are you judging me?” She had asked one day at a table full of their closest friends.

His eyes had narrowed at her question. They hadn’t talked very much at this point, but it was the moment that really drew Levi in. He looked around at everyone else at the table and they were already snickering under their breaths. The whole group thought he found her annoying but it was the complete opposite.

Everything she did had him in a trance. She kept him entertained with everything she said, but it’s understandable why she felt he had a disliking for her. The man never talked unless spoke too, but that was just how he worked. Though (y/n) took it rather personally because she found herself easy to talk to, and she’d never met someone so observant and quiet.

“No, if I did i’d make it obvious,” he had answered with his arms crossed.

She smiled at his words. In a way she found them sweet instead of rude. She was one of the few people who could understand his real meaning behind his words.

“Good,” she said proudly, “cause I would hate for a cutie like you to find me annoying.”

Levi’s mouth had fallen open at her words. Never in his life had someone called him a cutie, maybe when he was a child but not anytime in his adult life. The way her eyes sparkled as she watched his flustered reaction made him realize he liked this girl a lot. That was the night he’d first asked her on a date, and things escalated from there.

(y/n) was different and he liked it. Most people didn’t say straightforward things to him because they were scared for his reaction. But she wasn’t in anyway frightened by him. She actually found it kind of funny that the group find him so scary at times. Sure she could admit his gaze would be rather intimidating at times but that’s the worst it got to her.

He first took her out to eat at a sushi place and she literally squealed when they walked in the door. He couldn’t even hold back the laughter at her excitement, and that was the fist time she had heard his sweet laugh. She’d seen him smile plenty of time, but the fact she got him to go further than that only boosted her confidence.

They had sat there for hours talking about the most random things. (y/n) had never heard Levi spill so much information at once and she was absolutely living for it. She still couldn’t believe the quiet mystery guy of her friend group found interest in her.

“Did you know your quietness makes you more intriguing to me,” she had said with a blush on her cheeks, “It makes me want to get to know you more than anyone i’ve ever met.”

He nervously chuckled at her words and took another bite of sushi. That was the first time in the night he had kinda gone quiet. She began to worry she’d embarrassed him somehow and started to think too much. He noticed her manner change pretty quickly.

“I’m glad i’m interesting to you, no ones ever been interested in me,” he had said with a quiet voice.

She smiled softly, “You’re too pretty to not be interested in.”

That was the first day she had seen Levi blush so hard. She was also the first person to call him pretty. He had nervously ran his fingers through his hair with a slight chuckle. This women truly was something else and he found peace in her mannerism. He liked the way he felt when he was with her, and he had no plan on letting her go.

“You’re gorgeous,” he’d said on their next date which was a picnic.

It was (y/n)’s idea of course, she wanted to do something different. She told him she already had an idea for another date if he was interested, and of course he was. She smiled brightly at his words, even though she had just taken a bite of her sandwich. The sweet moment made her wonder what their friend group would say about this alternative Levi they had yet to meet.

After a few more weeks he’d invited her to his apartment. There was no alternate motive behind the invite, he just wanted to cook for her. She had told him many times she was a ‘slut for spaghetti,’ which made him laugh harder than he had in years. When he told her he wanted to make her food she absolutely insisted that she get the pleasure of watching.

He didn’t expect her to ask something like that but she was persistent with the question so he allowed it. She’d asked about a million questions as he made it, and everyone who knew him would be surprised to know he found joy in her constant talking. He was so used to silence, but her sweet voice always filled the air and made him feel whole.

When (y/n) had literally moaned as she took a bite of the spaghetti his stomach did a flip. The sound was beautiful and he thought about the day he’d get to hear it over and over again. Though, Levi was in no rush whatsoever. He was an extremely patient man and valued taking things slow. The two had been seeing one another for almost three months now and the most that had happened is hand holding and cuddling.

After dinner (y/n) suggested a movie. Of course she insisted on something romantic, she valued the cliche of it. Levi agreed but wasn’t as excited as she was. But seeing her eyes light up as he said yes was way better than any movie they could watch.

Now Levi sat on the couch with (y/n)’s arms wrapped around his waist and head on his lap. The sight was very heartwarming and he wanted to take a picture of how beautiful she looked, but he decided not too. Sure she had taken many pictures of him and with him but he was still scared she’d find it weird.

She felt his eyes on her and moved her hands from around him so she could lay flat on her back. She raised an eyebrow at him and smirked.

“Do you find me better to watch than the movie?”

A shock ran through him at your straightforward question. She always did things like this to him on purpose. Making his stern self flustered had to be one of her greatest powers. She reaches up to touch his soft hair and he shivers slightly from her cold hand.

The room fell silent and the air began to change. (y/n) gulped at the the feeling and turned her attention back to the movie, acting as if nothing had just happened. He frowned when she did this. Did she not want to kiss him?

That wasn’t the case, though. She wanted to kiss him more than anything. Hell, she wanted to do a lot of things with him. One would think she was straight forward in every department, but not when it comes to kissing. The last time she kissed someone her tooth went into their lip on accident and embarrassed the hell out of her.

She felt Levi’s body become sluggish when she turned away. In that moment (y/n) decided to get over her fear. After all he was different, they had a whole different story line. Her last failed hookup wasn’t anything compared to the bond her and Levi had created.

(y/n) sat up quickly and Levi almost jumped at her sudden action. He turned his head to look at her, and was about to ask what the matter was, but her lips were already being pressed against his. Warmness filled both of their bodies and the softness of her lips were addicting. But as soon as it started, it ended.

He almost whined when she pulled away, then her hand dragged across his lips, and he was beyond confused. Her attention was turned back to the television as if nothing had happened. As if they didn’t just kiss for the first time and she hadn’t just tried to wipe it away.

“Why did you just do that?” he asked confused, but he couldn’t help but smile a bit at her. She was hard to figure out and understand sometimes, but this was different. Was she embarrassed?

“Do what? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said without even looking at him.

The man had never seen her act this way. He found it funny honestly. (y/n) had never been afraid or reluctant to do something. He guessed he had found her weak spot.

“Oh yes you do,” he said with a laugh, “you think wiping away the kiss is gonna change something? Cause I still want to kiss you again.”

She gulped at his words, “really?”

Levi had never seen her so flustered and red faced. She was an absolute mess of nerves right now and he loved it. He had no idea he could have this type of effect on her. She did everything with confidence and zero fear yet a simple kiss had her second guessing everything.

“Really,” he whispers, and this time she’s the one who’s stomach flips.

His lips reattached to hers and she melts at his touch. Lips move against one another softly and slowly, enough to make her head spin. Delicate fingers squeeze at her waist and she makes a slight noise at the feeling.

That’s when Levi grabs her hips and pulls her on top of him, and the once sweet kiss begins to intensify.

Kissing Levi was already becoming one of her favorite things to do, and they were just getting started.

394 notes · View notes

euphoricsunflowers · 3 years

Text

drowning in your scent — chae hyungwon

a/n: ajshdhs this this officially the longest fic on my blog by a whole lot (i think the only thing that comes somewhat close is queen’s whore at like 3.1k sheesh) so in the spirit of that! please give this fic a lot of love!!

word count: 4.7k

content: goddess au, sub!hyungwon, dom!fem!reader, the sex scene involves kissing, lip biting, neck kisses, and riding, fun stuff like that, and minhyuk is here!! he’s mentioned a lot lmao hyunghyuk besties

warning: this fanfic does take place in a village setting where there’s a bad harvest of food and so there’s a lot of mentions of food and starving. as someone with problems with food myself this could be potentially somewhat triggering so please don’t read if need be and i want to emphasize that if you need help to please reach out for it. i know what it’s like, please even feel free to reach out to me if need be, but do remember i’m not a professional.

summary: a boy from the village struggling through a bad harvest and the goddess of nature, of animals and forests, and of flowers so lovely the scent will make you dizzy, make a deal.

“hyungwon,” the voice calls out to him, and his heart aches when he sees it’s minhyuk that’s speaking to him. the usual cheer and brightness to minhyuk’s voice has all but vanished, “come on, we need to get to work,” he trudged slowly behind his friend, with minhyuk’s hand holding his own. there’s nothing but comradery between them, and yet hyungwon feels like he would trust minhyuk with his life.

“i hate this,” hyungwon murmurs under his breath, but he can faintly hear minhyuk chuckle at his whining, “i’m serious!! there’s barely any food and i’m starving and i’m supposed to pick fruit that i won’t even be allowed to eat?!”

minhyuk’s face is stone cold suddenly as he turns to, for lack of a better phrase, tell hyungwon to shut the hell up, “lower your voice,” he orders, and hyungwon deflates, but he obeys, and the quiet returns as they continue to walk to their spot in the field to pick the fruit, “i’m sorry, but i worry that being so outspoken will be your downfall, won.”

as they pick the apples, in silence from their short and blunt conversation, hyungwon spots one that stands out from the rest. he tries to resist getting a closer look at it, but he just can’t. he takes a few steps over towards it, subsequently a few steps away from minhyuk, and the apple does the rest. it’s almost hypnotic in the way hyungwon can’t take his eyes off of it. it’s red and glowing and hyungwon doesn’t know how he’s the only one captivated by the apple.

it’s like the fruit is speaking to him, calling him away, and he starts walking, even when minhyuk calls after him, he knows minhyuk spoke even though he couldn’t hear him. he walks for a few minutes, through the trees and the dense forest that he’s never traversed before. he doesn’t have to constantly gaze at the apple now, but he grips it in his hand like his life depends on it.

he comes upon a small statue hidden in the depths of the forest. it’s a stone carving of a bird, wings spread as if flying through the sky. it’s beautiful.

“isn’t it?” he hears from behind him, actually registering someone spoke to him this time, and he turns to see who it is. instead of the face of cheerful minhyuk he’s so used to seeing, a beautiful figure graces his eyes.

hyungwon can’t even focus on the physique, though, he’s too entranced by the piercing eyes that stare into his soul practically and the voice he can hear ringing in his head. “isn’t it, dear?” your voice repeats again, and he feels compelled to answer, though he’s not exactly sure how you read his thoughts. maybe he had actually said them out loud.

“yes,” he murmurs softly, turning back to look at the statue, “it’s gorgeous,” he takes a step closer to the statue to get a closer look.

“your voice,” you speak again, “i- nevermind,” you stop yourself, instead choosing to take a step closer to him, your hand touches his shoulder, “can i help you with something, dear?”

“i- what?” he’s taken aback by your question, because he didn’t search you or this place out, he was practically lured here by the fruit, “no, i-i’m okay, thank you though.”

“are you sure?” your touch on his shoulder finally registers in his head, like all his reactions are slowed and delayed, “if you’re not here for something, then… why are you here?”

“i dont… i don’t know,” he was never loud, but he’s even quieter now, “the apple… it led me here.”

you suddenly fell silent. he wonders if you used to apple to lure him, if this is a trap, but your touch is still so distracting and he can’t bring himself to care much. you look so harmless, with such pretty features that he wants to stare at forever.

it does make him wonder, however, just why your tone was so brazen when he said he wasn’t here to ask anything of you. you looked baffled when he said no, like that was the only reason you expected him to be here, “do people always just come searching for you… asking for things?”

“yes, they do,” you respond bluntly, but your words aren’t hostile. he faintly feels a sense of pity in his heart for you.

“that sounds like… such a sad existence,” the words leave his lips without him really putting much thought into them.

“it is,” you say as silence falls between the two of you before he speaks up.

“you uhm… are you… human?” you’re a beautiful yet lonely person in the forest, and it makes him wonder if you even are a person.

“no, dear,” you say as you lift your hand, the grass beneath both of you growing as you do so, “i am a being that represents nature. i think you humans would call me a god or goddess?”

“oh that’s… incredible. please explain to me more,” his eyes find you once again, watching you with already such a soft, adoring gaze.

“you just want to hear me talk, little human,” your tone is playful as his cheeks become rosy.

“maybe,” he smiles cheekily, “will you still explain it to me?”

“of course, sit with me and the flowers, will you?” you ask him, and he plops on the ground, sitting with his legs crossed as you begin, “i can control how nature exists in this world. i can make your flowers grow or trees in your forest more dense. you humans also love to hunt the sweet animals i create, ”

you pause, as if to give him a chance to speak up, and he does, “i’m sorry about that.”

“it’s alright, dear, your apologies are not necessary. besides, once they do die, they become gifts for other gods, and those gods treat their gifts from me very well,” you smile somberly, “tell me, how are you humans doing?”

he wants to lie, for some reason. he has an urge to just say ‘everything is fine, let’s just talk about happy things. i want to be happy’ but he doesn’t, “we’re… you want my honesty, right?”

“yes, yes absolutely,”

“we’re suffering. there’s too little food for everyone,” his stomach rumbles as he’s in the middle speaking, and he makes a sort of ‘see what i mean?’ gesture, “and we barely have enough to keep everyone alive through the month..”

you subtly gasp at his confession he just gives so easily, “and yet you were expected to pick fruit? that seems unfair, dear.”

“it was work that had to be done for the good fo the village,” he lowers his head at the thoughts racing through his head, envisioning the soft eyes of his friend, “but min- uh, my friend, he’s all i have. i know i… said i didn’t have anything to ask of you… and this may seem too much of me to ask, but now that i know what you are and can do, could you please help them? the people of my village, i mean,” he pleads, his eyes shining in the light.

“you want me to… provide them food?”

“please, i’d do anything,”

your face is suddenly much more serious, and you grip his shoulder as you lean in close to him, “for future reference, dear, don’t ever tell a being like me you’d do anything. ever. got it?” you were kind. you knew you were kind, but there were some that would rip his poor, innocent heart to shreds, steal his soul because he didn’t read the fine print. you’re relieved someone so soft and sweet and almost angelic stumbled upon you of all beings.

“yes,” he practically squeaks.

“good,” you sigh as you stand up, “i will help you, little thing. in return, please stay with me for one day. tomorrow afternoon, at this exact hour, you can return to the village,” you extend your hand for him to shake, “are those terms agreeable to you, my little human?”

his heart pounds in his chest. you want him to stay with you? for a whole day? he decides it’s a price that’s easy to pay if he remembers the prospect of being able to save him friend and his people from starvation “yes,” he murmurs, reaching out to shake your hand.

—

it doesn’t take much effort from you, just a wave of your hand and apparently, the harvest in the village would magically improve. he supposes one day is not a lot of his little time to give up if it meant the village could be revitalized with a bountiful amount of food. he just hopes minhyuk isn’t worrying too much.

you have a cottage of your own, he learns. it confuses him slightly because you’re a goddess, why would you need a very human-esque living space? he supposes he’ll never learn the answer to that question. the thing itself is impossible to see from the outside, he could have sworn nothing was there until your hand was in his (his heart stopped for a good minute) and you led him up the stairway leading into the cottage.

“make yourself at home,” you tell him, and he nods in a daze. your place was beautiful, full of flowers and vases with more flowers and little flower trinkets on the table and mugs with flower designs. judging from anything you considered to be your domain, you seem to like flowers. the softness of the atmosphere is calming to him, the scent of all the flowers is overwhelming, his knees are weak.

“what- what are you going to do with me for this day that you have me? you must have some plan for me,” you tilt your head with a faint smile on your lips as he sits beside you on the couch, “do you want me to work? am i a servant? please, all cards on the table, tell me what you want from me.”

“all cards on the table?” you echo, and he nods, for a second wondering if you just straight up didn’t know what he meant, but you lean in to him, close enough to just barely need to lean just a little more and you’d be kissing him, “i just think you’re cute. forgive me if i just wanted a day to gaze at you.”

he’s startled as you pull yourself away, leaving him flustered and blushing and stuttering as you excuse yourself outside to grow more flowers. he sees the beautiful sunflowers and roses and tulips and then his eyes find you once more. your beauty just radiates, it’s so overwhelming and intoxicating that he feels the safest really taking it all in when you’re focused on your flowers, not leaving him a blushing mess whilst so close to kissing him he just might faint.

the sun hits your skin in such a beautiful way that he can’t can’t stop staring. it’s ironic how you wanted him to stay for a night because you thought he was cute but he cannot take his eyes off of your beautiful smile and hair and demeanor and just… aura. your presence is so soft and comforting yet so overwhelming to him. it’s all something he can’t understand.

you return a few hours later, having given your guest time to really settle in. as you open the door, he’s in the kitchen area with one of your mugs, drinking a cup of tea peacefully and quietly, “welcome back,” he mumbles with a smile.

“hi there, little human,” you smile back at him, taking a seat beside him, “i’m… sorry. i know you were probably lonely, here all by yourself-“

“no, i actually enjoy the quiet. it beats picking fruit,” he shrugs.

“speaking of food, i was able to grant your request, but i completely forgot about you. would you like something specific to be prepared for your evening meal?” hyungwon forgot what it was like when there wasn’t barely enough food to survive on. he tells you his wishes for meat and vegetables and starches his stomach aches for, “alright, dear. sit at the counter with me as i cook.”

he’s stunned for a second, “i didn’t know you can cook.”

“you don’t know my name, my sweet. we have a lot to learn about each other.”

“what is your name?” he asks, and you giggle to yourself, having known he’d ask it the moment you brought up the fact that he hadn’t yet.

“y/n,” you answer, finding the spices you wanted, “and yours, my beautiful flower?”

his heart skips a beat at the endearing term you use. at this point, he wonders if you’re getting enjoyment out of flustering him so helplessly like this, “hyungwon,” he sees the way you smile when you hear his name. it makes him smile too.

“hyungwon… what a beautiful name you have, my dear. it’s fitting, for someone as beautiful as you,” at this point he’s absolutely sure you’re getting a kick out of making him a flustered mess, because now his cheeks are red and he can’t meet your gaze, “sorry, i don’t mean to fluster you—,” liar, he thinks, “— i just can’t help adoring you.”

“you’re too much for my weak heart,” he mumbles exasperatedly as you cook, looking over at him with that cheeky smile on your face like you know just how much you wreck his heart and his composure.

you seat him at the small-but-not-too-small dinner table, bringing plates of food and finally sitting at the seat across from him, “eat as much or as little as you want, dear.”

he goes to ask before he puts too much thought into the question, “are you not gonna eat-? oh, wait, nevermind, do you not need to?” you nod, smiling.

“i’m grateful that you think of me, angel, but you’re correct: this is all for you,” and while he’d theoretically be hesitant to eat while you just sit there, he finally remembered just how hungry he was, and so it would have taken much more restraint than he currently had to restrain himself.

after dinner, you lead him him to the bedroom in your cottage. emphasis on the singularity in that term, “oh- uh, a-am i going to sleep with you-?” he stutters.

“you can, you don’t have to if you don’t wish to, flower. i don’t really have to sleep so if you want the bed all to yourself, then it’s yours. i just… i thought maybe- you know what,” you tone changes suddenly, and he’d be damned if he didn’t catch it, “nevermind. take the room. call for me if you need me, i’ll be outside with the flowers again-“

“wait!” he calls out as you turn to leave him alone. you look over at him, eyes shining so beautifully in the moonlight.

“yes, my flower?”

he’s flustered once again, but he can’t help wanting you to stay with him. he reaches his hand out to you, similarly to how you reached yours out to him, “stay with me?”

you accept the proposal, sitting on the bed with him, weaving a few flowers into a flower crown while he lays on his side, watching you work on the crown like it was the most entertaining thing in the world.

“i think sunflowers will look pretty against your skin, hyungwon,” you mumble, keeping your voice soft as to not disrupt the peaceful atmosphere you’ve both created, and he smiles bashfully at your words, “truly, i think anything would look beautiful on you, but the yellows would really bring out the strong, almost sensual browns in your eyes. can- can i?”

he nods in consent, sitting up and sitting still for you, and your fingers gracefully position the crown on top of his head, “ah, do i look good with it on?”

“oh absolutely, sweetheart, but,” you scoot closer to him, and once again, his heart beats rapidly and his thoughts evaporate into thin air, replaced by the bashful shyness and the way he’s suffocated by your scent, breathing it in like it’s a drug, “in my opinion, you’re the most beautiful.”

he can’t breathe.

“i-i, um, oh my god,” he stammers, so shy as you smile at how he struggles.

“can i kiss you, pretty boy?” you whisper, your hand raising to hold his cheek as you gaze at his lips. it’s subtle, probably because he was malfunctioning inside, but he nods, closing his eyes and passively waiting for your lips on his.

he didn’t know what to expect, with you being a god and all, but it was so much more than he could have prepared himself for, both mentally and physically. it was a rush if he’d ever felt one, both his body on fire and goosebumps lining his skin.

your style of kissing makes him ache in so many ways. his lips will definitely be bruised from the way you bite them, drawing blood like a vampire but in the kindest way possible, your hand cupping his cheek and you other rubbing his thigh soothingly is enough to keep him from crying out because of the pain.

“stop me, hyungwon,” you mumble under your breath, “if you don’t want this, you need to stop me. tell me to stop and i will,” but how did you ever expect him to do that when he’s already so wrecked and all you’ve done is kissed?

“don’t,” he whispers, “don’t stop, please,” and you oblige, keeping your lips busy on his neck as he groans, reaching out to hold your waist, “please,” he echos his own words weakly.

“tell me what you want, i’ll do it, just tell me,” you see how choked up he is, and it’s cute how easily he’s wrapped around your finger, “tell me, tell me, my flower.”

“touch me more,” he breathes, and you help him throw off his shirt. your hands are all over him in an instant, you press kisses down his neck, paying attention to his chest as your hands wander lower and lower.

he bites his lip in anticipation, but it feels just like how it felt when you bit his lip before and he audibly moans at the recent memory. it’s almost embarrassing when he realizes just how openly and easily he’s been moaning since you started.

and it’s not like he exactly expected a warning, but he wasn’t ready for when one of your hands started rubbing his crotch and making him moan and whine helplessly, “please don’t tease me.”

“hm, alright, sweet thing. how about i ride you? would you like that?” he nods desperately, weak at the thought of you using him for your own pleasure and leaving him to drown in the overwhelming pleasure you give him, “take off your pants and underwear, then.”

he scrambles to do as you say, watching with his jaw dropped as you make the garments you wear all but disappear with just a wave of your hand, and he’s intimately reminded that you’re not human, that he shouldn’t have trusted you so implicitly as to let you put him in this position, and that he’s playing a game where he doesn’t know the rules.

but then he sees the genuineness in your smile, the way you treat him so kindly yet assertively, soft yet harsh, and he just can’t fathom being in any real danger when he’s being swallowed by so much pleasure when he’s under you like this.

he’d been zoned out for a few moments until you’re actually riding him already, holding his hand in a softness that makes him weak. he suddenly notices the flowers in your hair, the way your nose crinkles up when you smile down at him, the way looking at your lips reminds him of the ache on his. it’s incredible just how infatuated he is, the way he adores so much being not just under you in a physical sense but also being under your spell.

he moans in such a heavenly bliss, eyes fluttered shut as he can only hear his own voice make sounds that would normally make him embarrassed. he can’t bother to care right now because when he opens his eyes, you seem to like the sounds he makes. and he wants to please.

“hyungwon, d-dear,” you murmur, your hands resting on his chest to keep yourself stable on his chest, “i can’t keep my eyes off of you, baby. you’re absolutely ethereal. so please, can you show me how pretty you are when you cum? can you cum for me, my flower?”

god that name was the most precious thing to him, he wanted to be your beautiful flower forever.

he does cum. he orgasms viscerally, his body trembling as he throws his head back, his jaw slacked as he moans loudly, cumming so hard he can see white.

he stays in that headspace of pleasure, higher than the clouds, for a few moments as the high subsides and he’s left with a euphoric feeling that keeps him shivering with aftershocks, until he starts to hear your voice. you whisper little nothings to him as he starts to come down completely, “i’ve got you, little thing, don’t worry, you’re safe with me.”

he briefly ponders why you keep calling him ‘little thing’ when he’s as tall as he is, but your kisses to him temple take that thought away, “y/n?”

“yes, dear?”

“can you sleep with me?” he asks, not realizing that you already told him that you don’t need to sleep.

still, you can’t resist him when he’s just so adorable with that pout he probably doesn’t even realize he’s making, “of course, let’s clean up just a little bit, and i’ll lay with you while you sleep, angel.”

—

morning comes far too soon. you still have him for another 7ish hours, but once they’re up, he’ll return to his village, to that friend he mentioned, and disappear from your existence forever. it’s almost pitiful how quickly you became attached to the pretty thing.

you look over at him, sleeping so, so peacefully, his cheek squished against the pillow while he pouts and you can’t help but coo at how precious he looks.

it’s impossible to imagine a life anymore where you can’t keep looking at his face, at his pretty lips (that are covered in bruises in a way that makes this moment a bit less melancholic and innocent), at the softness in his eyes when he gazed at you. what a miserable fate that would be to live through.

“what’s on your mind?” you hear him groan tiredly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. you go to object, say ‘of course it’s nothing just go back to sleep dear’, but he catches it and, even in the early morning, he won’t take a lie.

“i just… you have a life to return to, and i don’t want to deprive you of that. i’ve just grown to like you, is all,” you murmur as you run your fingers through his hair, hearing his soft gums of contentment, “an existence of being by yourself might make one somewhat… easily attached.”

hyungwon doesn’t know how to respond, but he sits up, despite the tiredness that still rests in his body, he moves to get himself out of bed, using his hand to brush his hair out of his face, “we still have time together, so let’s do something you want to do.”

“like what?” you smile sadly, “what should we do?”

“hmm…” he makes a really cute face when he thinks, you realize, and it just makes you fall a little bit more, “well you really like flowers right?”

“of course,”

hyungwon’s face lights up, like he’s had a sudden realization, “oh! then what if we painted? i have minhyuk’s paints in my bag!! minhyuk told me to hold onto them for the day and i kept them on me!”

“wha- what if your friend doesn’t want you to use them?” you stutter, but you can feel that you’re already on board.

“then that’s his problem!”

now to be honest, painting was not hyungwon’s strong suit, but he had such a fun time with mixing colors and making flowers that don’t really look like flowers come to life on the many wooden walls of your cottage. neither of you had brushes either, so it was really just fingerpainting, and by the end, your hands were covered in myriads of greens and yellows and pinks reds and blues tinted by the white, they were almost works of art themselves.

and after hours of painting, making more flower crowns, even teaching him to make flower crowns, and more activities, your time with him was dwindling. of course, he doesn’t have to leave, but the time that he had to stay was slowly slipping away from you.

“hyungwon,” you mumble, getting his attention as he sits on the couch while you were supposedly making tea. you raise your hand, displaying a bright red apple, “this is the one from yesterday, right?”

“y-yeah, i think so, why?”

“i- come here, please.”

he wobbles over to the kitchen, sitting beside you as you show off the fruit, “what’s going on?”

“remember when you told me the apple lead to you the statue?” he nods, “this apple is blessed with my energy. it’s… magical, in a human sense. i just want to apologize for decieving and likely confusing you yesterday,” you look down at the fruit, shiny and glowing red with liveliness, “but i have a… proposal of sorts.”

“i- alright, what is it?”

“take a bite,” you say, your tone heavy with implications of what will happen, “take a bite, and stay with me, will you?”

“what- what about my family? my friend? what about the life that i have?” he asks, but it’s all rhetorical, he doesn’t expect a serious answer, “i was willing to give you a day, i can’t give you my life.”

why can’t you, you feel the urge to murmur to him, why can’t you give that all up? you know i’m all you want now, you’ll only spiral down even further into me, “you don’t have to eat it all, just a bite, just one.”

“what- why are you so adamant that i eat that apple?”

“because!” your voice cracks ever so slightly, and once again his heart aches and he rushes to attempt to soothe you, to hold your heart in his hands and never once let it be hurt, “because you are all i want, hyungwon,” you mumble as he hugs you, resting your head against him, “because i want you to return to your friend and your village, but i’m selfish, i’m so, so selfish. this is the best middle ground i could think of.”

“...what does taking a bite entail?” he asks tentatively, and his heart jumps when he sees your eyes shine with hope. whether or not you know it, you’ve got him good.

“half the time, you’ll be mine. your soul has to reside in my domain, your heart will constantly ache for me,” you murmur, your hands suddenly wandering and he chokes out a moan, “but the rest of the time, you can return to the village. you can return to your life, and i will not make any attempts to steal you away during that time.”

he’s left speechless, not exactly sure what you’d want him to say now, but you place the apple in his hands, pressing a few faint kisses to the edge of his lips just to fluster him, but then you disappear outside. he watches you through the window as you tend to your flowers, picking a sunflower to place into your hair. he’s so entranced by the way you move that he can barely focus on what he needs to focus on: the apple.

he wonders what minhyuk is feeling right now. he’s probably worried to death, horrified out of his mind that his friend just disappeared into the forest. he wants so badly to go back and reassure him that nothing bad happened and go back to the way things were except things would be better.

but he does also feel a sense of… devotion? infatuation? love, maybe? whatever it is, he feels something towards you. his heart aches to please you, to do in this situation what would make you happy. the way you looked when you were so emotionally vulnerable with him, you didn’t seem like a god that he had to worship in that moment, you seemed like a soul that he wanted to love. it’s this feeling deep in his soul that just leaves him, both his heart and his body, utterly defenseless to the prospect of you.

so this is the end of him as he’s been for his whole life. or at least, in a sense, half of him. he’s grateful that you went outside to let his head clear just a bit, it’s always so clouded with you and your scent and your aura that he feels delusional. he tosses the apple around anxiously as he tries to decide what to do, but in the end, there’s not a chance in the world that he could ever go against what would make you happy.

he tries to delude himself into thinking it’s a conscious choice he makes, but he knows he’s lying; he just doesn’t want to accept it. he’s been a wreck since the moment you lured him away with the very apple he holds, there’s not a single reality in which he gives you up. his heart aches to protect yours, and his body wishes to be ruined by yours.

he takes a bite. he’s yours.

—

taglist: @lovingonrepeat @neosincity @sub-hoshi-enthusiast @maknaeronix @multidreams-and-desires @mellowriting @foenixs @hobilluvvr @vanillaknj @yr-domxfantasies @treasure-hwa @fleurshopsub @rubyscloud9 @silencefavarchive @nct99 @bigkpopstan @monstaxdirtywonk and always feel free to ask to be added to/removed from the taglist <3

#subidolnet #sub!idol #sub idol #sub kpop #sub!monsta x #sub monsta x #sub!monsta x smut #sub monsta x smut #monsta x smut #monsta x fanfic #monsta x x reader #monsta x hyungwon #sub!hyungwon #sub hyungwon #hyungwon x reader #sub hyungwon smut #sub!hyungwon smut #hyungwon smut

189 notes · View notes