#if you’re not sure and would like direct feedback you can message me and I will keep confidentiality

[sameeyeszine]

Will you accept creators for this zine regardless of whether or not they've drawn/written/created for ships you deem problematic?

This is a tricky question, and I’m going to do my best to answer it gracefully. As the individual reviewing the portfolio submissions, an applicant submitting material that I *personally* found triggering for consideration would put me in an uncomfortable position. This could also be an issue for fellow contributors- if you disagree with the direction of something that you’ve already committed to being a part of, it can feel difficult to disengage even if you have no strict obligation.

Additionally, I’ve stated previously that one of the main values of this zine is to promote respect towards the cultures and experiences that this franchise has drawn from, which are so often overlooked, maligned, or dismissed by both fans and licensed creators.

It’s ultimately up to each applicant to decide how they feel about the content guidelines outlined for this zine, but as an individual person who is not making a statement for the future of all media analysis and free speech rights or whatever else, if you think that what you want to make or submit in your portfolio goes against those guidelines, I would suggest looking for a different project.

[froggyfics]

Muffins

You and Tim ruin muffins for Jason and Dick.

Ummm, I’m not sure how we got here. I was requested to make a super fluffy piece, but it just turned sideways. I don’t even know why it turned out the way it did.

Sorry if y’all are squeamish about spit, I’m just disgusting

This is literally the first smut piece I've done, it's not full smut, but still, let me know how I did!

Sorry to the anon that requested a fluff piece. I really don’t know where it went wrong. Please blame my parents for my repressed childhood.

Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome! 

Pairing: Tim Drake x gn!reader

Theme: Fluff, Implied Smut

Warning: Spit Kink

Word Count: 1,026

You gaze excitedly upon the remaining muffin, with your salivary glands kicking into overdrive as you inhale the dessert’s scent. 

Your tongue hangs out slightly in preparation for muffin to enter your mouth. It’s a big muffin, and it’ll be a tight fit, but you’re sure you can manage. 

The pads of your fingers are ready to pick up the muffin when, unexpectedly, another pair of hands enter the frame. 

It occurs almost in slow motion. Tim’s nimble fingers grasp the sides of the dessert, removing the liner and tossing it in an unknown direction. He purposely holds your gaze, aware that you are watching his every move in utter shock. He grins widely, knowing that he’ll be punished for his actions, but nonetheless, believes that your reaction would be worth the trouble. 

“Don’t do it,” you warn. 

“Watch me.”

He opens his mouth widely, stretching his face to the maximum. He stuffs the muffin into his mouth carefully. Tim doesn’t want to actually eat the muffin. Oh no, he wants to simply bask in the experience of bothering you. Because nothing makes Tim happier than when he’s on your mind, even if it’s at the expense of your peace of mind.  

The muffin completes its journey to Tim’s mouth. His lips struggle to close completely, as his mouth is at its maximum capacity. 

The look on your face is worth the painful stretch of his jaw. He wants to smile, but he knows he’ll choke if he does. It’s now time for phase two.

He reaches into his mouth and grabs the base of the muffin. He cautiously pulls it out, one centimeter at a time. You watch in disgust as Tim pulls the muffin out his mouth, still fully intact, and places it proudly back on the plate it was originally on. 

There’re a few seconds of silence before laughter cuts through the air. Your eyes shoot daggers at Jason and Dick, who are sitting at the kitchen table as well. Jason clutches his stomach and Dick covers his face with his hands, both shaking uncontrollably with laugher. You turn to face Tim, who sports a toothy grin. He knows what your reaction will be. You know he’s just doing this to get a rise out of you. You know this, but you can’t help yourself.

You shudder involuntarily. “That was so foul,” you start. You look over at your traumatized muffin. There’s an extra shine on the dessert that wasn’t there before. You realize it’s Tim’s spit that made its way from his mouth and settled into its pores.

“You’re disgusting,” you add. 

Tim has now joined in on the laughter. It’s the type of laughter that’s so boisterous that through his shirt, you can see his stomach contort as the sound travels out of his body. It’s an infectious laugh that you realize you never want to be immune to. 

Your mouth quivers as you try your best not laugh, too. This is serious! He messed with your muffin! And it’s the last one, so it’s not like you can just grab another!

“I-I-I can’t even eat this!” you sputter. “Your saliva is all over it!”

Tim’s laughter doesn’t slowly die down, but instead, it abruptly ends. It shocks you at just how quickly the mood changes. He quirks his head to the side, looking deep into your eyes. Tim blankly stares at you and approaches. He’s no longer looking at your eyes, as his gaze lowers to your mouth. His fingers graze your lips, and you hold your breath. There’s something electric in the air suddenly. The atmosphere has shifted from lively to…sensual. You’re unsure of what’s about to happen next. You can’t even continue with your rant, and you simply gaze at him in anticipation. 

“My saliva is all over your muffin?” he mocks. He no longer has a childish smile on his face, but sports a devious smirk instead. 

You’re unsure of how to reply. All you can do is nod slightly, your eyes round with excitement, wondering what Tim will say next. 

One hand remains on your lips and the other slides up and down your arm. The motion would be comforting during any another moment. In this moment though, the action is anything but comforting. Instead, it lights a fire within your core. 

“You’ve literally begged me to spit in your mouth before,” he emphasizes. “A little saliva won’t hurt you one bit.”

The laughter from Jason and Dick immediately ceases and is replaced by disgusted groans. You can see from the corner of your eye that Dick is pretending to vomit and Jason’s face contorts in revulsion. 

Tim’s raunchy admission makes you blush furiously, but it also leaves your toes curling. Redness now tints your neck, face, and ears. Your craving for dessert quickly dissipates and now you have a different sort of hunger.

“I didn’t need to hear that,” Jason laments.

“Yeah, thanks guys. You’ve ruined muffins for me,” Dick adds. 

You don’t even hear what Jason and Dick continue to complain about. Tim is all that crowds your mind. He’s still got that devious smirk on his face. You stare right back at him as you make your next move.

You grab the muffin without breaking eye contact. He’s so focused on you and his attentiveness makes you all the more tense. You break it in half and slip your portion into your mouth. Its sweetness immediately hits your tongue, and you just have to close your eyes at how good it tastes. 

You open your eyes after you’ve swallowed, and notice that Tim’s still looking at you with passion, love, and lust in his eyes. You lean in closer to him and hold up the remaining portion to his lips. He opens his mouth and you take the opportunity to slip his half of the muffin in. When he begins to chew it, you whisper. You whisper low enough to where Jason and Dick can’t hear what you’re saying. This conversation is between you and Tim only.

“The muffin was good, but I think I need something else to wash it down with.”

[hisunshiine]

—i kiss your waist and ease your mind [6/7]

Part 6 of 7 of the Seven Days Series ↣ series masterlist

🗓️pairing: nurse!jungkook x teacher!reader 🗓️au/genre: non-idol au, brother’s friend au, fwb, age-gap(reader is older), f2l, fluff, angst, smut 🗓️rating: M 🗓️wc: 6,323 + text message 🗓️warnings: angst, mentions of Gwangju Uprising, casualties from the Uprising, hospitals, argument, hurt feelings, minor character death, grief explicit sexual content: unprotected sex, creampie, grief/comfort sex?   🗓️an 0.5: WELL, THE POST WAS ACCIDENTALLY DELETED AND ONLY SHOWS IN CERTAIN SITUATIONS, SO I HAD TO RE-UPLOAD. 🗓️an: well, well, well…back again for some pain, are you? I would apologize for how this ends, but it’s necessary for the set up of the final day of the week, and truly, I think it makes the final day that much more better if we have to hurt a little bit more, right? Thank you for reading, and again, I appreciate my beta readers for all of their help!   🗓️summary: “i kiss your waist and ease your mind.” The only thing that could make you feel better is the same thing that made you feel worse. You and Jungkook are both confused with your emotions, but two different stories help you both see a bit more clearly. The only problem is that when the two of you get around each other, clarity goes bye-bye. don’t let these soft lyrics fool you; make up sex doesn’t actually solve any issues if sex is the only communication that happens.  

Taglist: @sizzlingfestpeach @mochminnie @jungkooksmytype @kookslastbutton @taebangtanbabe @bbtsficrecs @jk97bam it’s not letting me tag you (if joining the taglist, please think about reblogging with tags/leaving feedback!)

Last night could not have been any worse for Jungkook—well, he’s sure it could have—but luckily the worst that could’ve been, had not come to be. Today, however, is proving itself to be a challenge in its own right. Jungkook knew he had to work early in the morning, but was alright with going out last night because he was with you. 

Last night honestly had been turning into a great night—the way you had silently laid your claim to him at the club, possessive of him in a healthy way—Jungkook thought things were progressing in the right direction. And clearly, you did, too. Hell, he knew he was all over you last night. Knew that he was taking a huge risk in advancing the relationship past friends with benefits when he threw all caution out the window to kiss you like that in front of your friends, but at the time, Jungkook didn’t care. 

And now? Well, that would be a different story, seeing as now that several people know that you’re the one he’s been fucking every night, they might all think something more should come from this situation. Jungkook doesn’t know what to tell them if they ask, and he’s been avoiding Jimin every chance he gets during his shift so far, because he doesn’t really know what to say. He walks to the nurses station to grab his oversized water bottle, drinking several large gulps before being interrupted. 

“Jeon, we have a case that’s just moved over to us, can you help?” Park Soo-hyun, the head nurse for the shift, asks him. As he lowers the semi-transparent canister, he takes in her cotton candy pink hair, which is mussed in a few places; the corners of her eyes are pinched with stress.

“Yeah, no problem.” Jungkook sets the bottle back on the shelf, and follows the shorter Nurse Park down the hallway to the right of the nurses station and watches as she pauses at the elevators to press the call button. Jungkook slows his walk and raises an eyebrow at his fellow nurse. 

“Sorry, we need the help on another unit,” she shrugs, elbow extending her arm to pass Jungkook a slim tablet with the patient's info pulled up. 

“Honestly, that’s perfect.” Escaping to a different floor means almost zero percent chance of Jungkook running into Jimin, so he strolls into the elevator with no regrets. 

Jungkook scrolls past the general information to see just exactly what he’s dealing with as the metal carriage rises. 

His heart breaks a little when he sees that this case is a hospice care one—a focus on the quality of life at the end of it. He follows Nurse Park, barely noticing as he puts one foot after the other, approaching the room. There are several acronyms listed in bold to the left of the door. This clues him into the fact that the goal has shifted from treatment care to comfort. 

Jungkook sees a sleeping, elderly woman in the hospital bed closest to the window, her grey hair pulled away from her face in a short ponytail. Next to her side is a similarly (he assumes) aged man, holding her wrinkled hand in his own. It is a sight that tugs at Jungkook’s heart; he doesn’t usually struggle with the elderly, just small children who end up in this unit, but with how he’s currently feeling about you, he thinks it's impacting him more than he’s used to. 

“Mr. Kim? This is Nurse Jeon. He’ll be with you and your wife for most of today,” Soo-Hyun says kindly as she pats Jungkook’s back in a motherly nature. “Please let him know if you need anything, okay?” She passes Jungkook a small phone, which he pockets, and leaves him in the sunlit room. He steps closer, pulling up the doctor’s chair to sit; a small, rolling, cushioned stool in hospital green. He glances at their names on the whiteboard. Patient: Jung Min-Ji, Spouse: Kim Tae-Woo.

“Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jungkook starts, voice gentle and quiet so as not to disturb the sleeping woman.

“Hello,” Mr. Kim replies, voice weathered with time and wisdom. “We’re okay, son, you don’t need to sit with this old man.”

Jungkook is no stranger to the phrases the older generation tend to say when in this position. The feelings of being a burden on the hospital staff, guilt for brief thoughts blaming their loved one for being in this position, grief that they could possibly lose their loved one—they’re all valid emotions, and a lot for a person to bear. Especially an elderly man who appears to be carrying this weight alone. Instead of responding to his statement, Jungkook changes the topic. “How did the two of you meet?”

The man’s eyes sparkle to life as he looks at Jungkook’s eager face. “Oh, we’ve known each other since we were kids. She was the most beautiful girl in the village, and I was just some dumb kid who followed her around like a puppy. She’s older than me, you see, and I was the annoying little brother of her best friend.” He smiles fondly at her sleeping form, and Jungkook feels his chest grow tight. “She used to hate my guts. My friends and I would terrorize her and her friends, pull their ponytails, leave frogs in their backpacks, all the terrible things thirteen-year-old boys would do to pretty girls they were afraid to talk to.”

“No wonder she hated you, Mr. Kim!” Jungkook laughs. “I’m guessing you finally stopped tormenting her if she ended up married to you?” Jungkook points out.

“Yes, yes.” The man chortles fondly as he reminisces. “I finally grew up, and realized that treating her badly was not the way to her heart. A little too late, though. She ended up married to some other punk in the neighborhood. He wisened up a little faster than I did, told her how he felt one winter, and they were married by the time the cherry blossoms bloomed.” He sighs, and Jungkook tilts his head, questioning. “Oh, I was distraught. I couldn’t do anything about it, though, I realized that I missed my chance, busy playing games. I ended up married to one of her friends, and well, we spent the next fifteen years circling each other.”

“Wow, that must’ve been hard to deal with.” Jungkook can’t imagine being in his shoes. Or well, he can, but he doesn’t want to imagine that future for himself. Doesn’t want to see a future where he stands in suit and tie to take wedding photos, and it’s not you next to him in them.

“Oh, I loved her enough, my ex-wife, but I think she always knew deep down that she wasn’t…she wasn’t Min-Ji.” Jungkook can see his hand tighten imperceptibly around his wife’s frail one. “We never had kids, and when I came home from work one day to find her waiting with her things packed...I think I always knew that day would come.”

“So, how did you end up winning over Min-Ji?” Jungkook is intrigued by the man’s story. He doesn’t know what he would do in this situation.

“Oh, I wouldn’t call it that. She was thirty-two with a new-born daughter, and left a widow after the Gwangju Uprising. Her husband was one of the many lost that summer. I was freshly twenty-eight, newly single, with an empty house, and still in love with her. I stepped up as her friend, offering her and her daughter a place to live and slowly we became a family. I asked her to marry me a couple years later and she said yes.” Kim Tae-Woo’s eyes water, and even in the dimly lit room, Jungkook can see the love he has for the woman in front of him. 

“That’s an amazing story, Mr. Kim. I’m glad you found each other.”

“Oh, me too. She’s given me everything I never knew I wanted. Three children and the best forty-three years of my life. She’s my everything.” He turns back to Jungkook, a look on his face that he can’t read. “Do you have someone, Nurse Jeon? Someone you love more than your own life?”

The question throws Jungkook for a loop, because the whole time his patient’s spouse was telling their story, there was only one person who crossed his mind. You. He hesitates to answer, but Mr. Kim was honest with him, and Jungkook is sure that he can be vulnerable with this man, too. 

“Yeah, I think I do.”

—————

“Stop staring at your phone and moping, oh my god.” Yoongi rolls his eyes at your mood, whispering to Leah about how you’re the rain cloud following them around, ready to ruin the wedding tomorrow. 

You glance at the message one last time before locking your phone and stuffing it into your hoodie’s front pocket. 

You hate that you and Jungkook ended the night like you did, even more that he didn’t text you his usual morning text. The thumbs-up emoji haunted your dreams last night, and you barely slept, waking up throughout the night. The bags under your eyes reflect the nightmares, a fact your annoying little brother enjoyed pointing out when they picked you up at 10 AM.

-10 am flashback

“Shush Yoongi!” Leah berated him gently, “need I remind you how you looked after our almost break-up?”

“Hey! I thought we promised never to bring that up again!” Yoongi pouted the whole trip to the wedding venue for the final review of the plans. 

-end

You sit back in the chair, your head facing away from the floor-to-ceiling window of the wedding venue, wishing not for the first (or even second) time that things had gone down differently last night. Sorting through all of your feelings is a lot harder than you thought it would be. Especially with your brother’s looming nuptials while seated in a decorated wedding hall. 

“I’m not moping, jackass.” You pick at non-existent lint on the sleeve of your hoodie before tilting your head back and allowing the hood to fall off. “I just don’t know what to do with myself.”

“We’re almost done. Leah is just dropping off the last of the checks for the vendors, and we are running through the ‘Day-Of’ itinerary one last time with the planner. Then we can grab some lunch, and you can fill us in on the troubles running through that head of yours.”

“Sushi?” You make your eyes big and pout your bottom lip as you turn your head to look your brother in the face. He looks good; his hair is freshly done with an undercut cropped close to his head and the top layers falling in organized, chaotic layers. He has a healthy glow about him that screams ‘happy and in love’, that makes you feel wisps of green envy. His face breaks out into a smile, eyes disappearing in delight. 

“Of course, princess. Whatever you want, if it means you’ll be in a better mood.”

Hearing Yoongi call you ‘princess’ reminds you of Jungkook, and you turn away again, hiding your crestfallen look as Leah walks back into the room with the wedding planner. Yoongi leaves you to join his soon-to-be wife’s side, shaking hands with the wedding planner as they bid her goodbye and motion for you to meet them at the exit. 

Finally supplied with sustenance, you feel a little better as you chew and swallow the tempura-fried shrimp drizzled in spicy aioli sauce. Though that feeling dissipates a bit when Yoongi sets a deliberate gaze on you. 

“Spill it. I know you're moping about Jungkook, but what happened? Do I have to kill him?” he attempts to make you smile, but the joke falls flat with you today. 

“To be honest, it all happened really fast. One second we were good, really good. And then he just kind of shut down and called me a taxi and kicked me out at like 2 AM.”

“Wait, that dickhead kicked you out at 2 AM? I should fucking kill him! What if something had happened to you?” Yoongi’s ears are red and his eyes glint in anger. Leah reaches out a hand to soothe him as you speak quickly to do the same.

“Nothing happened to me. I’m a big girl, Yoongi. I’m pretty sure I said some hurtful things to him, and if the situation was reversed, I would’ve asked him to leave, too. If I had been a little more sober, I probably would’ve left on my own volition instead of getting into an argument.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Leah cuts in tentatively, “you do like Jungkook, right? Like not just as a friend?”

Your face says everything your mouth won’t as you shift in your seat. Leah nods knowingly, and Yoongi takes a deep breath. 

“Okay. You’ve already told Mom and Dad that you’re dating him or whatever, so what’s holding you back from taking that step with him if you like him so much?”

It takes everything in you to not cut your eyes at him. You see Leah cover her mouth; the mirth there doesn’t match the situation, but she can’t help but feel like her very smart and emotionally aware fiance is missing some important social factors. You don’t blame her for the smile, in fact, you welcome it, knowing full well that she gets it.

“What’s holding me back? Maybe that conversation with Mom earlier this week, where she nagged at me for being single and not giving her grandkids, and then when I told her I was seeing someone, she ridiculed Jungkook’s age? Or how about the fact that the stupid goth art teacher talked shit about how young Jungkook was?” You shake your head, defeated. “Everyone judges the relationship between me and Jungkook, before it’s even a relationship. So what happens when it is real?”

“What changed?” Leah’s brows are furrowed, and you can see her mind sorting through the information you’ve given, or lack thereof. “Something must have happened to make what you had going no longer work for either of you, right?”

You decide to trust them both and tell the truth of what happened.

“So after we left the club, we went back to his place since it was late. Taehyung, Jimin, and Hoseok are now fully aware that there’s something between me and Jungkook because he wasn’t exactly subtle. To be fair, I didn’t stop him either, so I guess if I’m being honest, we weren’t exactly subtle. We get back to his place, and it’s business as usual.” Yoongi grimaces as he reaches for his whiskey, downing the entire thing as you skim most of the sex, though a memory surfaces as you let the night replay in your mind. 

“Oh god!” You slap your hands to your face, covering your mouth. “I just remembered…I kind of let slip that I loved him while having sex,” you mumble into your hands, head dropping down in embarrassment. “And then right afterwards he’s receiving a ‘you up?’ text from SoHee—with a fucking topless picture!—and I just lost it. There was an argument, which I honestly can barely remember what was said. We were both so mad, you know?”

“Wow, no wonder you were mad. I’m guessing he didn’t say anything about your confession,” Leah questions, validating your feelings in a way that warms your heart. You definitely think you and your new sister-in-law (as of tomorrow) will get along great.

“No, he didn’t. And it’s not even that he has to say it back or anything, I didn’t say it for that reason, but the fact that we just had—”

“Please don’t say it again!” Yoongi interrupts.

“I wasn’t! Anyways, the fact that we just had such an intimate moment happen, and here comes SoHee texting Jungkook her perky tits asking if he’s awake? I know a booty call text when I see one.” 

“Wait, but you just said SoHee texted it to Jungkook, right?” Yoongi sits back, a quizzical look on his face. “So, he got a text from SoHee and you got jealous. But I’m gonna be that person right now and point out to you that technically, you and Jungkook aren’t together.”

“Yeah, thanks for stating the obvious,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “Anyways, we were in the bathroom,” you think back through the specifics. “His phone went off, and he set it down to dry my hair, and then it went off again. The message lit up his phone, so I saw the text from SoHee.”

“Sis, you know I love you, but I think you’re jumping to conclusions. It sounds like Jungkook was just the recipient of the messages, not necessarily the instigator. Guys can receive unsolicited tit pics just as much as women get dick pics. People just think all men are horny 24/7, but we also can feel uncomfortable in these situations. If we’re at work or start dating someone new, and an old flame sends us a ‘you up’ text or sends nudes? Not to mention, sometimes we just aren’t attracted to the people sending us stuff. It causes issues no one asked for.” 

Yoongi’s eyes show no malice as he speaks a truth you’re upset with yourself for not realizing in that drunken stupor, or even in the light of today. “Jungkook’s hot, you know? He could’ve just been the recipient of unsolicited nudes. He might actually get quite a few that he ignores, because that man is high-key in love with you.” 

“Honestly, I’ve seen you and Jungkook together, and I agree. Who cares what other people think, especially the ones who don’t know either of you well enough and shouldn’t matter enough to sway your happiness with each other.” Leah looks at Yoongi, and he takes her hand gently. “This wedding tomorrow will not be my first one, but it’s the one that matters the most to me. Your brother loves me on a level that I never knew was possible, thanks to my ex, and though our age gap isn’t as big as yours with Jungkook, I’m still older than him. Both of these are things your mom took issue with, but you know your brother.” She looks over to him with a fondness you understand. It’s how you look at Jungkook. “The only thing that matters is what you and Jungkook want. I know it’s not easy, but it’s infinitely worth it.”

By the time Jungkook finishes a sponge-bath and documents the care Min-Ji received during this time, he realizes it’s past the typical lunch time and that the husband has yet to eat. The three children he mentioned live on the other side of the country, but are traveling now to be with their parents. He had hoped they would arrive earlier with the promised food Mr. Kim is waiting for, but Jungkook insists he get something to hold the man over for the time being. He reminds him of which buttons to press to contact the phone in Jungkook’s pocket, then heads to the canteen.

The employees share the cafeteria area with the visiting families of patients, and it is bustling quite a bit as Jungkook exits the elevators straight into the lobby of the cafe. To the left, the room extends into a seating area once past the cashier lines, and Jungkook sees the moment SoHee spots him through the crowd. 

He’s tired of hiding from people—tired of hiding from his feelings, really—so he decides not to run away this time. If SoHee decides to talk about the messages she sent last night, he will address it and let her down easily. They’re still friends, in Jungkook’s mind, so he smiles at her as she approaches him, soft pink scrubs swishing lightly from her quick steps.

“I am so excited about the wedding tomorrow!”

Jungkook can tell; her smile is glowing. Once upon a time, he might’ve been enthralled by it, it’s still a beautiful smile, and it sucks to know that he might be the reason it fades in a few moments.

“Yeah, me too. I actually wanted to talk to you about it.”

“Yes, that’s why I came over here, in fact, so we could finish coordinating and—”

“SoHee, wait.” Jungkook knows he’s being rude, cutting her off, but the longer she stands there, grinning up at him like that, the more his chest feels tight. “I can’t be your date for the wedding.”

As he predicted, the rosy apples of SoHee’s cheeks lower along with her smile as she processes his words.

“I don’t think I understand?” She's polite as she speaks, head quirked to the side as if showcasing her confusion, but Jungkook is no fool to the glint of a woman’s eye as she braces for battle. 

“I know that it took me a lot longer than I promised to get back to you about this, but I’ve only just figured things out myself, and I just don’t want to string you along.”

“What have you been doing then, if not stringing me along?” SoHee crosses her arms across her chest, stance shifting to one of defensiveness. “I’m not trying to be a bitch, Jungkook, but from my point of view, it kind of seems like you’ve been doing exactly what you claim you don’t want to do.”

Jungkook sighs, restraining himself from rolling his eyes at her words and tone. He can’t help but feel that SoHee is being a bit dramatic—it’s not like he was the one who started all this wedding date talk, and he never even agreed to be her date! He did put off turning her down, but she’s the one who texted him to say he didn’t need to feel obligated to take her. And then she sends nudes and a booty-call text message at the worst possible moment last night and wants to get mad at him?

“Look, SoHee, I know that you probably feel like I’m the bad guy in this, but—”

“You’re an asshole, Jungkook.” SoHee’s voice carries a little too well, and other nurses standing nearby tune into the conversation. He really hates public confrontation like this, especially when he didn’t do anything wrong, and yet, here he is dealing with this bullshit.

Jungkook doesn’t mean the words he says in the way that they come out, but he feels cornered. “What do you want me to say, SoHee? ‘I’m sorry that I like somebody else’? Or possibly, I’m sorry that you sending me nudes I never asked for at 2 AM fucked up my relationship?” He probably could’ve said it with a little less attitude, probably should’ve held back from the second example, especially when he sees the way SoHee’s eyes begin to fill with tears as she looks at all of the gawking bystanders. One of the other nurses walks over and places an arm around SoHee’s shoulder, glaring daggers at Jungkook as if willing him to keel over on the glossy linoleum. 

“You really are an asshole, Jeon. Why would you say that to someone, in front of a crowd? You have no tact.” 

Jungkook is about to fire back at the other woman, but a hand on his shoulder reigns him back in despite his blood continuing to boil.

“Janice, why don’t you escort SoHee to the employee lounge for a bit? I’ll have a chat with Jungkook here.”

Frozen eyes sending a final chilling glare, the women disappear as Jungkook finally moves through the cafe line to the cashier, Jin following quietly. He continues to shadow Jungkook as he makes his way back to the palliative care and hospice unit to deliver the food. As he rounds the doorway, he sees that the patient’s adult children have arrived, a few grandchildren as well. 

To his surprise, Min-Ji is awake, but this only makes him worry about what’s to come. He sets the food to the side, greeting the members of Min-Ji’s family as he does a quick check of Min-Ji’s breathing. The pattern appears abnormal—though normal for someone approaching the end of life. He’s glad her family made it in time to see her; he knows that before the day is out, possibly even before his shift ends, she’ll quietly cross the veil.

Jungkook slips back out of the room to give the family some privacy, and to meet with Jin, who he knows is waiting for him. The two men walk to a nearby empty nurses’ desk, and Jungkook waits expectantly for Jin to speak. 

“Well, that went swimmingly.”

“All thanks to you, my friend,” Jungkook responds snidely, “not only is SoHee mad at me, I’m also not talking to You-Know-Who right now because of a pretty serious fight we had last night.”

“Calm down, she’s not Voldemort,” Seokjin snorts out. “But you two fought about something serious?”

“Yeah…She was at my place last night and saw a series of messages from SoHee that included a nude. She kind of went spastic on me, accusing me of requesting the nudes from SoHee after having sex with her because I’m ‘too young’ to behave any differently. I honestly was so angry, I called her a taxi and sent her home.” 

Seokjin blinks at Jungkook dumbfoundedly before speaking. “Maybe if you’d already told our dear friend you’re banging his sister, and then told her that you want to date her, none of this would have even been able to happen.”

“This advice would’ve been better than encouraging SoHee’s imagination,” Jungkook grumbles out, though his voice takes a softer tone when he says your name as he continues, “if she had wanted to date her brother’s youngest friend, I think she would’ve said something by now.”  The condescension towards the age gap is laced through every word. Seokjin ponders his words before speaking his point of view.

“You know, I think that maybe the two of you put too much weight on this age gap. Even now, you’re taking on this submissive role, waiting for her to tell you or make the first move. But let me tell you a little something about women. No matter their age, they want someone who isn’t afraid to want them back. And you, my friend, are shaking in your scrubs.”  

“I’m not scared,” Jungkook instantly defends, but even he can hear the lie whistle through his teeth.

“Then why are you waiting for her to make all the decisions? Why haven’t you had an adult conversation, sat her down, and told her what you wanted for a change?”

“Because I—” Jungkook pauses, unsure of how to answer. In all realness, he is scared. He enjoys what the two of you have going on, and he worries that if he speaks up for what he wants, if he asks you to change the friends-with-benefits status to something real…being incinerated by the sun after being lit on fire by jet engine fuel would hurt less than the hypothetical rejection he fears. 

Seokjin just gives him a knowing look, his eyes soft with empathy for his younger friend's dilemma. “Just talk to her. Show her you want her, and not just in a friends-with-benefits way.” He once again gives Jungkook that knowing look. “Tomorrow is the perfect opportunity to clear the air. Everyone loves a good wedding.”

“Except SoHee is also going to be there.”

Seokjin curses lowly under his breath and is about to say more when Jungkook’s phone begins to emit a shrill tone for attention. The two men silently make their way back to Min-Ji’s room, knowing that if the phone is ringing, it’s not for any good reason.

It’s been a long day full of revelations. The long talk with your brother and his soon-to-be wife has left you feeling drained and empty. Sitting on your couch, you open up the app to order food from your favorite takeout place barely a block away. Carelessly, you reorder the last meal you placed before slumping backwards into the plush cushions. 

Now that you’ve ordered, you really wish you had chosen delivery, like the lazy ass you want to be, but it’s not that far from your place. You close your eyes for what feels like a moment, but an alert jerks you out of the light slumber you’d slipped into. Your food is ready to be picked up. Sighing, you rock back then forward to lift yourself from the sunken spot on your comfortable couch and shrug on Jungkook’s hoodie for the trek. 

The weather teases a light rainfall, the petrichor scent enveloping you as you quicken your steps through the glass door of the establishment. Approaching the counter, the cashier recognizes you and pulls your order—two plastic bags with a brown paper bag inside each full of steaming hot food.

Checking the receipt stapled to the first bag, you see that you’ve accidentally ordered twice as much food; your last placed order was a meal for two, and the extra food? Jungkook’s favorite dishes from here. With resignation, you grab both bags, attempting to balance them on each forearm and use your foot to push open the door, but the door swings open as a man with an umbrella steps through. 

Jungkook says your name as if it's a curse and a prayer, sidestepping back onto the sidewalk to hold the door for you to exit. You thank him, fully intending to keep walking past him, but he follows you instinctively. 

“Let me help,” he says, his hand reaching out to grab one of the bags, and like muscle memory, you allow it, both of you walking in tandem until you reach your place. Unlocking the front door, he follows you in if only to set down the bag, but you stop him with a hand to his wrist before he can leave. 

“I, uh, accidentally ordered your favorites when I rushed my last reorder. You can have it, if you want. I can’t eat all of this.”

Jungkook just shrugs, and you finally notice how he looks. It’s not good—well, he always looks good; he can pull off anything. It’s more so that he doesn’t look well; his face is pale, eyes listless and devoid of any joy, parts of his face a bright red from being picked at. It’s one of his habits you’re well aware of, like when he bites his nails when nervous. Reaching into the bag, you lift out the container and pass it to him along with napkins and utensils. Taking the food from you, he steps into your living room, plopping down onto your couch as if muscle memory has taken over, he takes off the lid and begins the motions of eating the meal.

Your own thoughts are racing, unsure of what to do or say, so you just say nothing, instead pouring two glasses of water and delivering them to the coffee table before going back for your food. You end up sitting on the smaller couch, the corner closest to where he sits on the larger couch. The room fills with the sounds of you eating, an awkwardness that never used to be there lingering in the air. Your eyes flit from your food to Jungkook’s slow movements, so after you swallow your most recent bite, you take a sip of water before speaking.

“Is everything okay, Jungkook?” The urge to call him ‘baby’—to cuddle him to you and comfort him—is strong, but you resist.

His hand moves the food around a bit, and you watch him as he gathers himself to reply. It feels like hours, but he finally looks at you. “Yeah, I just had a really hard case today. It was a hospice patient, and I spent most of the day with her husband. Well, second husband—but the love of her life, I’m sure.” 

“Oh,” you don’t know what to say; you’re not really sure what made the case so hard, so you wait for Jungkook to elaborate.

“They, uh, knew each other for a long time, since they were kids, you know? But he was the younger brother of her best friend, and she married someone else before he worked up the courage to pursue her. He ended up married to one of her friends instead, but she left him. He said his first wife knew that no one could compete with the girl he actually loved. So when the first husband died in the Gwangju Uprising, leaving her a single mom with a small baby, he stepped in to provide them with a place to live and just help out, but they ended up together eventually and they have a big family.” Jungkook’s eyes look back at his food, a bit teary. “I met their kids and grandkids. They arrived right before she—” he clears his throat, but a small tear sneaks down his cheek.

You reach out for him, pulling the food from his hands and placing it on the table. You scoot closer to him, taking his hands into yours as he looks down at where the two of you connect. He sniffles, trying to stabilize his voice before he continues with his story.

“They arrived right before she passed. She’d been asleep the whole time I was there with her husband, but once everyone arrived, she woke up and was talking to them all, told them she loved them one last time, and then she just…slipped away. I don’t think I can ever forget the sound her husband made as he cried.”

“Oh, Jungkook…” unable to bear it, you join him on the same couch, holding him close to you as he cries. Your own eyes are wet; something about this couple’s story resonates with you after everything that you’ve experienced today.

“I can’t imagine going through that,” Jungkook says with a wobbly voice. “Losing the person that you love the most in the world? I mean, he almost avoided having to go through this, she married someone else! And the chance comes around for him to be with her and he takes it, but the way he cried when he lost her…I’m not sure it’s worth it in the end.” 

His words cut like a knife to your heart. You want to remind him of the good that he told in the story, how the couple had a large family, how the wife was surrounded by the evidence of their love when she died. How the man taking that second chance meant a single mom and her baby had a better life—that anguish he felt when he lost her was because they shared a love like no other. To you, it’s always worth it. 

Instead of saying what you want to say, you ask him what he needs. And those beautiful teary eyes look up at you and he whispers one word; “You,” and you’re unable to say no to him. Not when his lips meet yours with a desperation that you can’t begin to decipher, not when his hands pull you closer, and he clings to you like a lifeline, and definitely not when he sighs out your name against your lips, as if the simple utterance fills him with solace and relief of all that ails him.

His strong hands relieve you of your clothing as his lips remain fervently attached to yours. You relish in the feel of him as your naked form meets his own body, skin to skin, while he lays you back onto the couch. His kiss leaves you dazed; you have no idea how long it took for you both to end up naked, and by the time the question is flying through your mind, Jungkook is already nestled between your thighs, his cock hard and throbbing pressed against your lower stomach and your ankles crossed at his lower back.

When he pulls away slightly—reaching to line himself up with your slick opening—you bite his bottom lip where it was resting against your own, and the sensation causes him to surge his hips forward, fucking himself deep inside you. The intrusion is orgasmic, stretching you to a fullness you only experience when he doesn’t take time to prep you. Jungkook is needy, fraught with a raw emotion he can’t yet put words to, but his body can.

With each stroke, he finds comfort, the grip of your walls building the friction to a pleasurable high that he wants to drown in. Is there anything better to ease his mind than to be buried inside of you? He knows you're close, can feel the way you quicken—hurtling towards climax as you dig your nails into his back and cry out his name. Your body wrapped around him brings him a level of peacefulness that allows his mind to empty and his heavy cock to release thick spurts of cum until you're full and leaking around his softening member. 

You lay underneath him, holding him close as his chest rises and falls, and he peppers kisses along your shoulder. His movements are slow and you can feel the effects of the day taking over and pulling him into sleep. He slides his body so that the two of you are back to front, him curling around you as the big spoon. He grasps the blanket you keep across the top of the couch and attempts to cover you both, but you take over for him. 

He drops his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest as he kisses the back of your head once more. 

“I’m sorry, Princess,” he mutters before he’s softly snoring, and you lay there in his embrace, contemplating what his apology could be for. 

Was he apologizing for sending you home last night? For that thumbs up he sent that ruined your day? Because he feels bad that he only made you cum once after using your body to make himself feel better?  It’s only when you’re about to drift off that you remember his words about his patient, and your mind wonders if his apology is telling you sorry because he can’t give you what you want the most. Himself.

stay tuned for “i’ll be loving you right, seven days a week” coming 9-?-2023!

↣all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2023. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One Side of the Story

Series Masterlist

Warnings: dark elements but nothing too graphic in this one.

Please leave me some feedback either in a reblog or an ask! Likes are always appreciated as well. You know I love yall and hell yeah, you love Professor Steve.

You shake as you put your phone to your ear. There’s no answer. You try again, gripping tight the strap of your bag as you clench your jaw. You’ve never been so angry in your life. Or stunned.

Why would Steve do that? What gives him the right? Is he so obsessed with his work that he believes you need to be just as zealous? Being a TA was supposed to be a minimal commitment, now you’re not too sure about it.

On the third attempt, Jensen picks up. You can hear his television in the background, some video game with mournful stringy music. One of those fantasy adventures he loves so much.

“Hey, what’s up? How’s the super serious schoolwork?”

“Jake,” you snap, the only word you can muster in your fury.

You hear the click of a button and the noise of swords clashing stops. He lets out a breath as you stop yourself from walking down the wrong path. Where the fuck are you? You let your anger get the best of you and your feet carried you off without direction.

“What’s going on?” His tone grows heavy, “everything okay?”

“No. It’s not.”

“I thought you were working on your lesson– you just messaged–”

“I can’t even– I–” you sputter and put your hand to your forehead, “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“What?” Confusion laces his voice as you hear shuffling, “where are you? I’ll come meet you.”

“I’m sorry,” you drop your hand as you turn back the way you came, “I… I shouldn’t have bothered–”

“You’re not bothering me,” he insists, “tell me where you are and I’ll be there.”

“I…” you look around. “I’m not sure, one sec– I’m by the engineering building. Besides that big orange pole.”

“Wait for me there. I’m coming. Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

“Umm,” you look up as you hear another set of footsteps. You back up behind the square pole as you see Professor Steve march down the path. No jacket, no bag, but he’s searching for something. For you. You hide as best you can and whisper, “please.”

“On my way,” he assures you as you peek around the pole. “You saved me from fighting this dragon anyway. I really didn’t feel like it.” He continues as his keys jangle noisily, “I’d rather get my ass kicked at Mario Kart.”

You’re silent as you watch Steve. He turns, eyes scanning the campus. You pull back before he can see you and hold your breath. You wait as his sole scuffs the pavement noisily. He lets out a long breath and a grumbled, ‘shit’.

Finally, he retreats. You only peek out again as you see his shoulder disappear beyond the corner of the building. Your chest is aching as you keep air trapped inside. You blow out and quickly scurry away.

“Hey, you still there?” Jensen asks.

“Yeah,” your voice quavers, “I’m here.” You gulp and hurry on, “I’m heading towards you right now.”

You struggle to keep your phone against your ear as you tremble. The fact that Steve followed you down has you uneasy. What was he going to say? Worse, was he going to do something? 

You don’t know, you're frazzled and not thinking straight. It’s not that serious, right? He’s an overbearing professor, you’ll be done with him eventually. You might just have to settle for a C.

📚

“You’re dropping out of the TA position?” Jensen wonders as he walks beside you, your bag slung on his shoulder. That little argument was easily won on his side. “Huh,” he fixes his glasses thoughtfully, “but… that’s a sudden decision. You seemed so into it like an hour ago.”

“Yeah, well,” you throw a hand out as you walk along the campus path, “I just realised it’s going to be way too much work.”

You pick your nail. When you finally caught up to Jensen, you thought of telling him the truth. You couldn’t find the words that didn’t sound ridiculous. Your professor took your phone and catfished your boyfriend over a study date? You can still barely accept it.

After the initial flurry of anger, you’ve calmed down and formed a plan. You’ll nip it in the bud and never think of it again.

“I’m going to meet with Professor Barnes and let him know. Means I’ll have to give up my dreams of that extra side hustle. Back to being a peasant for me.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, “join the club. My lab position barely pays enough to justify the hours.”

“At least you have that,” you mutter.

“If this is… I hate to make it about me but if you’re worried about, er, us, you know I don’t mind the extra hours–”

“No, no,” you wave him off, “no, it’s not that. It’s just… St– Professor Rogers, I don’t think I’m a good fit. He’s very… particular and I just don’t think it’s a good idea. Maybe next year.”

You mull over your decision. It’s your only choice but it doesn’t cancel out the whole reason you signed up for the extra workload. You need money. Bad. Even with your entry scholarship and the extra grants, you’re struggling. That’s not his problem. He’s probably dealing with the same crunch.

“That’s too bad but I got that feeling. He seems like a tight ass.”

“Yeah…”

“Kinda felt bad at that movie, you know? Him there alone?”

“Er,” you hesitate, you don’t really want to think about Steve, “yeah, I guess he was a part of the organization.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Jensen snaps reactively.

“Hmm, what do you mean?”

“My buddies are part of the film club. Shit’s student-run.”

“Really?” You frown, “oh, I thought…”

“Maybe he gave some money at the fundraiser but I know the film crew, a bunch a witches and role players. Good people for a D and D game but not exactly the best students.”

“Huh,” you chew the inside of your lip. 

Why would Steve lie about that? What else did he lie about?

📚

The door opens almost as soon as you knock. Professor Barnes greets you from the other side, his foot behind the door to keep it only a foot away from the frame. You can’t see past him or the frosted glass.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” you say, “I got turned around on the east wing.”

“That’s fine. These old buildings are mazes,” he smirks, “besides, you’re right on time.”

He pulls his foot back and the door falls inward. He waves you inside as you see another figure awaiting you. You furrow your brow as you recognize Steve’s tense posture and blond hair, even as he refuses to look back at you.

“I figure it’s best we all deal with this,” Barnes beckons you in with his singular hand.

“Um,” you murmur, “sir, I can come back lat–”

“No, please, come in, sit,” he struts away and gestures to the empty chair, “I need this sorted out and I’m sure you have exams you need to study for.”

You reluctantly acquiesce. As you cross the threshold, Barnes asks you to close the door. You drag your feet to the chair next to Steve’s and sit. You keep your head forward as he does the same.

“So, I understand there has been some… unprofessional behaviour,” Barnes begins, “these situations are delicate and must be handled appropriately. Thank you, Professor Rogers, for bringing this to my attention and you, miss, for facing up to it.”

“Facing up– what do you mean?”

“It’s not the first time that a student has… behaved this way but I can understand how youth can sometimes lead to bad decisions.”

“I don’t understand? What–”

Barnes reaches across the desk and curls his fingers in a gesture to Steve. Steve hands over his phone, the screen already lit up. The dark-haired professor turns it and reads aloud.

‘I can’t wait to see you. Should I wear that cute little skirt you like?’

You wince and curl your lip. What the hell is that?

“I don’t think I should read any of the others as I’m sure you recall what you sent,” Barnes accuses.

“I didn’t– what?”

“This is your number correct…” he reads out your phone number digit for digit. 

“I… I didn’t…” you take out your cell and unlock it.

You open your messages and flip back to the list of conversations. In your frantic escape, you hadn’t looked beyond Jensen’s. It’s right there. Messages forged just before he sent the last to Jensen. Some of them make your skin crawl, you wouldn't even send those things to your boyfriend.

“No, this wasn’t–”

“Now, there are two options,” Barnes intercedes, “we can end this here and agree to dissolve this arrangement entirely. Or I can report this to the dean which would mean an investigation. These sorts of matters are taken rather seriously and could lead to expulsion–”

“What, but–”

You glance over at Steve as he stares ahead, stone-faced. He did this. He set you up! And you have no evidence to dispute his own.

Well, you were going to quit anyway. So what does it matter? Take the shame and walk away.

You can only hope that you never have to encounter Professor Rogers again. At least, not beyond your final exam.

[insidemymind19]

About you

Part 2

I’m really not sure how I feel about this so any feedback is more than welcome

Warnings: heavy mentions of: drug use,miscarriage,blood,pregnancy,TRNSMT 2017

If your uncomfortable with any of these subjects please DONT READ

2017

“Els whereee are you” she hears Matty’s voice boom around the hotel room as she retches into the toilet once more. “There you are my darling princess angel.” He’s high again. “I can’t wait for this show tonight the Scottish crowds are fucking amazing I just feel so good” he yells not even noticing his girlfriend clinging to the toilet like her life depends on it. “Come on baby let’s go to the bar get a drink loosen up before the show” he coaxes completely oblivious to the situation in front of him. “No matty I have to get ready and I don’t think you need anymore” Ellie tries to be as delicate as possible as not to annoy the high man in front of her, “right ok be like that then I’ll just go alone you obviously don’t want to spend any time with me” he deadpans not understanding what she’s saying. “Matty I didn’t mean it like that” she yells as she hears the hotel door slam behind him. She can’t cope with him when he’s like this. Elouise reaches for her phone and shoots a message to the group chat they set for situations like this, ‘he’s really bad today said he was going to the bar can someone go find him don’t think he wants to see me at the moment. This shows going to be rough’ she hits send praying that some of the guys are able to sober him up before the show.

“Ok what’s wrong you’re being quite” Ross asks Ellie as he sits in her hotel room after a few minutes of observing her, “Ross I don’t know what to do” Ellie replies emotion leaking through her voice with Ross instantly having an idea what she’s talking about. “Elouise it’s not your responsibility to look after him yes you might be together but you know how he is he’ll not listen to any of us, we all know he needs help but we can’t do that until he realises himself” Ross tell her curtly. “I know that but that’s not everything” Ellie thinks for a moment as to whether or not to tell him. “I… Im.. um” “Ellie just spit it out” Ross replies wanting to know what’s going on. “I’m pregnant” Ellie replies quickly, not wanting to admit what is happening. Ross is taken aback by this revelation. “Are you sure, have you done a test? You might not be” Ross replies trying to reassure the women sat in front of him. “Yes Ross I’m sure I’ve done 4 tests” Ellie Quietly says. “Shit does matty know” “no I don’t know how to tell him. What if this tips him over the edge Ross I can’t do it on my own” Ellie replies desperation in her voice. Ross’s Heart breaks for the blonde women he considers a sister sat in front of him tears in her eyes instantly engulfing her in a hug, “Elouise so many people are there for you and I know for a fact you would never be on your own ok, me George, Adam, Carly,Grace, your mum, Denise So many people care about you Ellie” Ross replies doing his best to reassure her all things considering.

As Ellie stands side stage at TRNSMT she knows this is going to tough, just then she feels George place an arm around her shoulder and a soft kiss on her head whispering a “we’ll be ok.” they take the stage and start to play the opening notes to love me she watches Matty prance around the stage her heart aching not only for him but for the little life inside of her.

the show is over they’re all sat quietly backstage Matty nowhere to be found Ellie feels a sharp pain in stomach, something she’s been feeling since she stepped off stage, Ross notices her face screw up in pain, “you ok” he says in her direction alerting to George and Adam to the situation too, “um yeah probably just soar from standing up for so long and not eating” Ellie says trying not to alert the other whilst reassuring herself. “Ellie you’re bleeding” Adam says as he notices the blood pool in her lap the pain in her abdomen crippling now. “Elouise we need to get to the hospital now” Ross says panicked as he watches the colour drain from her face her eyes growing droopy. “Wait what’s wrong what’s happening” George asks not understanding the situation. “She’s pregnant” Ross hastily explains whilst lifting the barley conscious women into his arms, “Els hey look your going to be ok Yeah everything’s going to be fine” he tries to reassure her whilst lacing his finger in hers

‘Where am I’ Ellie thinks to herself, light blinding her a horrible aching in her stomach, the familiar feeling of a calloused hand in hers, a constant beeping sending a piercing pain through her aching head. After a few moments she gains the energy and whimpers softly, alerting the man beside her as her reassures her with his words that she’s ok squeezing her hand softly, a feeling she knows all to well from him, she lets out a soft murmur of his name “matty” she tries to move to see him a horrible pain spasming through her stomach groaning in pain, “hey hey Els don’t move ok” she opens her eyes at the unmistakable sound of Adams voice, glancing around the room in her confused state “where’s matty” “I need matty” Ellie pleads with Adam, “do you remember what happened Ellie” Adam asks cautiously not really sure how to approach the subject “I remember being in pain on stage” then suddenly it clicks “wait Adam is the baby ok” “is my baby ok” she asks Adam in desperation. The look on her face tells her all she needed to know, “I’m so so sorry el” Adam says as he dives into her arms to bring her some form of comfort. Ellie’s sure she feels her heart shatter in that moment, 5 words breaking her heart into tiny pieces “ I… I didn’t even get to tell matty” she sobs loudly “he didn’t even know” she lets out through straggled breaths. “Where is he” “why isn’t he here Adam” she screams.

Back at the hotel Matty is on a comedown. A bad comedown. Sitting at the toilet shaking and shivering, “Here mate drink some more of this, try get this shit out of your system” as George hands him a glass of water. “Where’s Ellie she’s got far better bedside manner than you” matty groans earning him a warning glare from george, he soon goes back to looking at his phone a worried expression on his face as he reads Ross’s message explaining that they’ve told her the news. Matty clocks the worried expression on his best friends face as he lifts his head, “whats with the face Georgie, who’s died” he questions tiredly, George giving him a look he can’t quite place, “what, what’s happened” matty asks. “Ellie she um.. No you know… um nothing it’s fine” George says quickly feeling like it’s not his place to break this news, but Matty needs to know what’s happening especially when it concerns Ellie.

Once again not sure about this but thank you so much for taking the time to read ❤️

[noodyl-blasstal]

Review-tribution - Best Served Cold Chapter 6

Day 6 of @tazsapphicweek so it's time for chapter 6 of Best Served Cold!

Read below or on Ao3. Missed the start? Here's ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, and ch 5.

-

Sloane leaves Davenport a message, she’s very concerned about a company trading under the name she has trademarked. Hopefully he can help her sort out the confusion when he’s back from his voyage.

–

Raven doesn’t check her phone until the morning after their date. She’s alternately furious and delighted to see what they found. Thank goodness for friends, she could never have proved this on her own. It’s too early to tell Istus yet, they need some more evidence behind them, but they’ll get them. They can’t be allowed to get away with this. They won’t be allowed to get away with this.

–

It doesn’t take long to swap out the QR codes. Hurley and Sloane easily dupe and switch out the posters.

It turns out that one of the benefits of owning your own website is being able to delete the negative reviews.

It turns out that when ‘you’ direct everyone to a different website which you’re not in control of, your 5 stars perfect rating (from names which, on a quick cross examination by Hurley, largely match the ones on the complaint emails) drops quite dramatically.

Worst customer service I have ever experienced If I could give this place 0 stars I would. The owners were so rude and the portions are tiny.

Weird texture Everything is just so powdery? For the price they charged me I expected more. I won’t be going back.

Do they even want customers there? I have never been so aggressively negged by staff members before. I called my therapist when Ieft.

They wouldn’t let me take anything branded The staff said that they didn’t want their brand to be associated with me and wouldn’t let me have any of the cups with the logo on. It wasn’t even that nice! If they don’t want to be associated with me then I certainly won’t be back.

Hurley approves all of the new reviews. There’s a carousel of terrible feedback on the main page now, she set it to cycle through the comments. She’s sure that there’ll be an influx of good ones once they realise, but they don’t seem to have yet.

–

“Hey, Raven! Look.” Hurley turns her phone round, delighted smile on her face.

“Hang on, let me get my glasses.” Raven is so glad she finally caved and got a chain for them, no more forgetting where she last put them down... Well, she’s so glad Istus found one that was tiny bones and ravens and therefore was too good not to use. “What am I looking at?”

“Facebook.” Hurley says, like that will mean something to her.

Raven looks blankly back at her in the hope she’ll explain.

Hurley doesn’t even roll her eyes, which Raven appreciates. “It’s The Good Lick Store’s Facebook page. They made one when they realised… somebody…” Hurley looks side to side shiftily… “had made another website and they must have figured that whoever it was would also nab their Facebook page if they didn’t set it up. People are leaving reviews. Lots of them. They can’t delete them on there either!”

“These are bad.” Raven says, scrolling slowly through the list of complaints about quality and customer service. She’s smug to see how many people recommend going to Happy Scoops instead.

“They’re really bad.” Hurley confirms.

Raven loves to hear the joy in her voice. The last few weeks have been a stew of tension and worry, it’s nice to feel like the tide is turning. Hurley’s joy bubbles over into a laugh and soon Raven joins her, it’s irresistible.

–

Sloane snuggles into her side as Hurley presses send on the email.

“And you’re sure that’ll be anonymous?” She asks.

“Absolutely.” Hurley says. “All of the evidence, but no way of knowing where it came from.” She doesn’t bother trying to keep the smug tone out of her voice. They all deserve a win, and the management company deserves to know the truth about who has been ‘complaining’ about Happy Scoops.

It doesn’t hurt to add screenshots of the reviews, but that’s just for her own gratification.

Sloane plants a kiss on her shoulder. “You’re a brain genius and I love you.”

Hurley closes the laptop and pulls Sloane into her lap. “I love you too.”

–

“Istus! I’m so sorry, I heard what happened.” Cherity looks genuinely bereft.

“Thank you so much for your kind thoughts, Charity, but I’m afraid I don’t quite follow?” Istus hands over Cherity’s usual cone.

“You know, dear, the…” Cherity looks to the side furtively and whispers “... the fro yo people.”

“Oh, well, you know, there’s plenty of space for two businesses.” Istus tries to smile as brightly as she usually would. There’s no need to trouble customers with this, no matter how friendly they are.

“No no, what they did. We know it was them who cancelled the events. Ziad told us in the group thread.”

“The what, sorry?” Istus stares blankly.

“They posted something on the wrong Facebook account, and Ziad took a picture and sent it, and then Mustafa told us about how confused you were about the cancellations and we put it together. May the gods have mercy on their souls, but we certainly haven’t in the comments. Anyway, goodbye dear, I’ve got to pick up Mercy from play group, but we’re with you!” Cherity drops her bombshell and leaves.

–

“Raven?” Istus asks. “Do you know how to make Facebook happen?” She shuffles the sparkly, cloud shaped mouse of their elderly computer again to see if that can speed up the ever spinning wheel on the screen.

Raven creases her brow as she looks up from the book she’s reading. “Is this a test, beloved? Do you think I’m some kind of replicant?”

Istus takes a deep breath so she doesn’t accidentally sound terse. It is definitely an out of character request, but she needs to work out what’s going on. “No. I just need to get on. Cherity said something odd today and I just want to check what she meant.”

“It’s definitely a website. You have to type in the bar at the top for those.” Raven says, letting her glasses fall on the chain and pushing herself out of the seat. Istus has long since stopped teasing her about the grumbling noises when she does it (since she started doing them too, in fact).

The computer finally chugs to life and lets Istus click on the kind swooshy fox that takes her to the internet (Kravitz let her pick her favourite one, and the fox was much more fun than the coloured ball). “This one?”

“I think that’s the google bar which is different. But try putting facebook in there anyway?” Raven leans down, uncertain, one hand on the back of Istus’ chair, and squints at the screen.

Istus types ‘Facebook’ into the bar and waits.

“Do you think we should get a faster one?” Raven asks as they both watch the spinny wheel on the screen.

“Maybe we can ask the boys?” Istus muses, leaning back to rest against Raven as the computer screen goes black and then starts to load the next page.

Raven rubs her chin against the top of Istus’ head, and Istus smiles up at her despite the fact that Raven can’t see. It’s easy to send up a thought of gratitude for this moment. Istus spends a lot of time thinking about the future, it’s a good thing, it’s why her business has lasted so long, it’s why they have the house, it’s how they can afford to retire if they ever get round to it. But sometimes, sometimes it’s important to stay in the here and now, and being here with her wife is a wonderful now to stay in.

“There we go.” Raven points at the screen. “You need to log in.”

“Huh… where’s the little book got to?” Istus cracks the desk drawer.

“I’ll tell Kravitz on you.” Raven’s smile is evident in her voice.

“You wouldn’t!” Istus plays along as she shuffles papers aside. “My love, how could you betray me like this?”

“But if you write your passwords down then everyone can steal them.”

“I don’t have anything to steal in the computer.” Istus finds the little book rammed right at the book. “Anyway, Taako gave me the book because he was sick of us calling to get them to do the reset thing.”

“A wise man.” Raven nods.

“Shall we use yours?” Istus is fairly sure hers doesn’t work anymore after the time she kept mixing up the order of the numbers and exclamation marks Kraitz said she needed.

“Go on then.” Raven reads her the details and Istus types. It’s a well practised routine.

“I’m in!”

“What are you looking for now?” Raven leans back down to peer with her.

“Well, Cherity said that The Good Lick Store posted something strange in the wrong place.” Istus types the shop’s name into the search bar, proud not to have to ask this time.

Their name pops up next to their logo - Istus has begun to think it more garish than fun as time goes on… though that may be more to do with the shop’s owners than anything else.

“I don’t see anything.” Istus says.

“Try scrolling down?” Raven suggests.

Istus moves the mouse down, nothing happens.

“I think you use the wheely bit.” Raven points.

Istus tries again and the page shoots by until there’s a blank spot and the loading wheel comes up again.

“Maybe try a tad slower?”

Istus moves the wheel gingerly the opposite way and Raven fully drapes herself over Istus’ shoulders.

“Hmmm, maybe they deleted it.” Istus shrugs. “Nevermind.”

–

“How many fish?” Carey asks Killian

“Not that many.” Killian smiles the smile of someone who has hidden an amount of fish very north of not that many in a frozen yoghurt shop.

Carey smirks and nods. “...and I assume you’ll need a shower, you know, because of the not very many fish juice.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“You can’t talk about fish juice and seduce me!” Killian groans and pretends to push her away, pulling her closer instead.

“Can’t I?” Carey grins happily as Killian groans.

“It’s you, not the fish juice.” Killian scoops Carey into her arms.

“To the bathroom!” Carey points the way.

–

Sloane smiles, grimly satisfied with her work. She slips away into the shadows.

–

“It’s just terrible, what happened to the sign.” Carey says.

“So awful.” Killian nods.

“Sadly there’s no leads on who was responsible.” Hurley shakes her head. “I’ve been trying to figure it out all morning, but there’s simply no evidence.”

“Such a shame to see mindless vandalism like that.” Sloane shakes her head. “What is the world coming to?”

Raven barks a laugh and tries to quickly cover it with a cough. “Mmhmm, terrible.”

“It is a little bit funny.” Istus says, primly. “Such a shame those letters were in the sign in that order.”

Raven looks up surprised.

“Of course, no one here would have stooped so low.” Istus narrows her eyes at them all in turn. “But hopefully they can repair it easily enough…” There’s a long pause and Istus adds in a stage whisper. “Did any of you get a photograph?”

–

It takes three days before the sign is repaired. Raven makes sure to pass by at least once on each and every one of them. Partly to glare at the twins through the window and partly to enjoy the sight of the queues dwindling. The sourness on the faces of the hosts increases with each visit.

–

Raven’s busy scarfing down a sandwich between appointments when her phone ba-bings, then pings again, and again.

Istus’ Army Hurley: Quick! Everyone! It’s happening Hurley: Check this out!

The link she sends next takes Raven to a statement.

We are a group of concerned locals and we’re calling for a boycott of The Good Lick Store. They have been sabotaging other businesses (see screenshots attached). They created a fake profile to reduce other business’ revenue and, in the process, took away a community lifeline. They selfishly put profit in front of people. We’re not going to stand for it, and you shouldn’t either. Don’t let yourselves be used to harm the businesses who are there for our community!

Underneath sit three screenshots of posts from The Good Lick Store’s new Facebook page, clearly written as if they were Happy Scoops (cancelling yet more events).

“Incredible.” Raven laughs to herself as other messages begin to pop up.

Sloane: YES! Killian: Take that, dick store! Killian: Carey says “wahoo with three exclamation marks at least” Raven: Good job Hurley Hurley: Not guilty! It wasn’t me. Raven: Then… who? Carey: Yeah, who’s our saviour? Hurley: Customers Hurley: I messaged the page after I saw the post, it turns out it’s people who come to the events, they’re furious. Raven: OH. Istus did say that Cherity mentioned something about Facebook. We couldn’t find anything though. Hurley: They’re obviously angry about being lied to, but coming after Istus? It’s never going to be good PR Hurley: Wait, Raven, you went on Facebook????? Killian: Are you reading the comments? Please read the comments Hurley: Incredible Killian: I think it has broken Carey, she just keeps snort laughing. Raven: How do I get there? Hurley: Hang on.

A screenshot pops up in the chat.

Francisco ‘A boycott won’t be hard, the ice cream’s shit anyway.’ The Good Lick Store ‘It’s not ice cream, it’s frozen yoghurt.’ Francisco ‘Sorry, my bad. It won’t be hard, the frozen yoghurt is shit anyway.’

Raven: You’re not supposed to argue with people on the internet, Kravitz said. Hurley: Kravitz is very very right. Sloane: I’ve gone on a deep dive. Did you see their statement? Hurley: Share with the class?

A screenshot quickly follows. The Good Lick Store believes in quality, belives in luxury, believes in pursuing your dream. Our dream is to bring you sophisticated flavours, challenging topping combinations, and real-world business practices. We believe in our product and we believe in challenging our competition. In business there’s always a winner.

Sloane: But wait for this

Another screenshot of the first comment. Aoife: ‘Well the winner’s not you, is it?”

Sloane: Do you think they’re feeling good about their life choices? Hurley: Snrk Carey: Get’em! Raven: Has anyone showed Istus yet? Killian: No! Don’t! She’ll feel bad for them. Hurley: They don’t deserve cheer-up cake Sloane: Or restorative cookies Raven: You make a good point

-

Enjoying the story? Find the final chapter here.

[sheenashifts1217]

Hii!! I'm coming after seeing your post about shufflemancy and I wanted to give it a go!! Can I get a message from my s/o Jake from my Enhypen dr? - Ash 🌟💫

Hiii!

So, I’m not even kidding, but the first song is O Holy Night by the glee cast

I’m not entirely sure I’m getting anything from this song (unless glee or this song means something to you?). I was going to reshuffle, but something told me to keep this so maybe this has significance to you, if not that’s also okay. However, the word “divine” kept standing out to me when I listened to this. Jake thinks you are divine and he really wants you to know that and truly believe it.

The next song is If I Could Fly by One Direction

This is a very vulnerable song and it represents your vulnerability with each other. Jake is saying he lets his guard down around you and he’s so grateful that he can trust you with that side of him that no one else sees. He’s yours and wants to always be yours. He feels defenseless when you’re around, but also worries about scaring you off. He wants to be there for you the way you are for him. When you are unsure of yourself or just need a shoulder to cry on, he is there and ready to listen or do anything for you. I just heard “or k1ll anyone”. So I’m getting he’s very protective over you. You mean the absolute universe to him.

The last song Jake showed me was BITTERSUITE by Billie Eilish

What really stood out to me is this is another song about letting walls down and vulnerability. You and Jake have a very emotionally intimate connection.

As I was listening, these are lyrics that stood out to me and in the order they stood out:

“I was on my knees

I see the way you want me

I want to be the one

I’ve been overseas

Keep it brief

You seem so paranoid (I saw him pushing you on a swing set as I heard this part. To me, that symbolizes trust. He trusts you and sees your trust in him, but he wants you to let him in deeper)

Open up the door for me, cause I’m still on my knees”

This man is literally ON HIS KNEES FOR YOU. He thinks extremely high of you. One of you, I’m not sure if it’s him or you, struggle with vulnerability. I feel like it may be a bit of both of you. He wants to be there for you and do those cute couple things that other couples do. This also just made me realize that the Christmas song could also been him saying he wants to do those mundane things, like spend Christmas together (if that’s what you celebrate) or just the holidays. He wants to cuddle with you and watch Netflix. Just little things and slowly you both can open up more because you both care for each other deeply. I’m picking up that he feels you all are so much alike that it could be hard to expose yourselves because you both fear the same part of yourselves. He’s saying trust him and that he won’t judge you. He wants to embrace you. I just heard “all of you”. Don’t let insecurities hold you back.

I really hoped this helped and resonated in some way. For some reason, i also feel guided to tell you that the number 4 could be significant. Happy shifting and I would love to hear feedback if this resonates any or not at all. Thank you for your patience and allowing me to practice:)

[oraclekleo]

Hello! If it's possible, may you do a sweet romance between me and Lee Know from stray kids, please? Of it's not, may you do a tarot reading about my future career? My zodiac sun sing is leo, rising leo and moon is aries. My Chinese zodiac sign is horse. My personal arcane is a Emperor, my life way's Arcane is a devil. Thank you ❤️

Hello!

First of all, if you want the sweet romance reading with Lee Know, it's for free now and you can fill the form for it, visit the link:

Book a Tarot Reading (Paid) Instructions (SPECIAL FREE OFFERS AVAILABLE)

Now! Your future career! Let's see...

Future Career Tarot Reading

@teensunshine

Cards: XXXIX The Temple (The Wild Unknown Archetypes), 7. The Rebel (The Oracle of Roses), 3 of Swords, XVII The Star, XI Justice, Page of Cups (The Everyday Witch Tarot), Knight of Cups, 10 of Coins, VII The Chariot

Interpretation:

It’s interesting how your astrology placements are fiery but this reading has more air related cards. It can mean that your career is likely to truly fuel your life in a way, you might even slip into workaholism at a certain point. Make sure to keep the balance between work and fun and don’t push yourself too hard as it could result in exhaustion or burn out.

This was the first thing I noticed but there’s more. It looks like you might be affected by your past when considering your future career. Maybe you are tempted to go for the safe and tried path, rather than risking following your own desires. Maybe people around you are advising you to choose a career that’s most likely to secure you financially but I can also see in the cards that you are hesitant to accept this. Maybe your own dream job is something less secure but more aligned with your heart’s desires. The Star card could speak of social work, the Justice card could mean legal business. Maybe you are studying the law and while your friends and family advise you to make a career in the private, highly paying sector, you would prefer to fight for the vulnerable people as public defence or as a social worker?

I can see a lot of sensitivity towards others while you have the ability to not let their issues crush you. That’s a very good talent to have and maybe you are considering a career as a therapist.

The cards are advising you to follow your instincts when choosing a career for yourself. Job is a major part of most people’s lives and just imagine you would end up doing something you don’t enjoy at all. People might be calling you naive (like the Page of Cups) but you’re a visionary if anything. If you are able to honour your own gut feeling and intuition, and rebel a little bit against the society’s expectations, you are likely to succeed. The Chariot card is telling you that it’s not going to be a walk in rose garden all the time but the 10 of Coins speak of deep value you might gain, not only monetary (though it’s also one of the meanings) but you could become a true asset to the society and your community through your work. The Star card is a reassurance, there’s hope for you. Be true, act with dignity and integrity because you will reap what you sow.

This is the message I get from the cards. Feel free to give me your feedback, I'm always happy to hear from my followers, no matter whether it's critics or praises. 😊

Thank you so much for putting your trust in me and I hope the reading is at least a tiny bit helpful for you.

Please, be sure not to base important life decisions on a tarot reading only. Your faith is always in your hands and when you receive a reading, you can always decide whether you will continue with the path mentioned in it, or whether you change direction.

Be blessed and best of luck with your productive life!

Kleo 🦄

[iwadori]

Haikyu Boys neglecting you for another girl PT 1 (Kenma)

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Word count: 1.3K

Genre: angst,fluff

masterlist

Kenma:

You go over to your boyfriend ,Kenma’s, house every weekened to play on your shade survival minecraft world 

But one week you were too cramped to come over one week so you missed out on a gaming session 

At school the following week you heard Kuroo and the guys teasing Kenma over a new found gaming friend 

But you payed no attention

Now you’re done with your exams and ready to continue on w/ Kenma on fighting the enderdragon and building up your world

You get to Kenmas house an hour after finishing your school club, upon entering you hear him button smashing upstairs (per usual) but something not so usual was him giggling with laughter...

Kenma.Your stoic boyfriend Kenma. giggling..

Because of your confusion you slowly go up the stairs as his laughter ensues making you more perplexed ‘kenma barely talks to people that aren’t Kuroo and me, especially someone who makes him laugh this much’ you think to yourself.

“Ella, i’ve found the stronghold! Just follow me” Kenma exclaimed as you entered his bedroom “Yes Ella you have to press X to jump” he laughed again

‘Ella, who’s ella’ you think. You hear a response on the other end but you can make it out properly. Kenma and ‘Ella’ continue on speaking making plans on what they’re about to do next.. with Kenma not noticing you came into his room yet. You look at the TV and notice that Kenma is playing with someone else on YOUR world that you started which made you slightly agitated. 

You purposefully drop your bag a tad too aggressively, but that seems to work as you catch Kenmas attention as he turns to you for a split second as he mumbles quitely “Oh hey babe” before swiftly getting engrossed again into the game.

Annoyed, you sit on next to him on the bed waiting.. JUST WAITING for some proper acknowledgement to which you received none. You just sat there mindlessly scrolling through your phone as he continuously talked with Ella AND coached her through killing the ender dragon (a plan that you and Kenma said to do together since the beginning of your minecraft survival world idea)

After almost an hour of just sitting there idly, you decide to get up pick up your bag and leave. Hoping just hoping that your ‘oh-so great and caring’ boyfriend would take off his headset and stop you from leaving. But this isn’t a movie of course... so no Kenma did not run straight after you pull you into his arms and comfort you. He stayed in his room laughing away with Ella putting you at the back of his mind.

You go straight home and cry still wishing for a follow-up text on the incident that happened at Kenmas but no response there.

Luckily for you, it was half term break meaning there was no school for a couple weeks so you didn’t have to face the awkward confrontation or lack thereof with Kenma at school. But it was unlucky for you since usually every half term and weekend you’d spend at Kenmas but obviously now you can’t.

You do wonder if he’s thought about texting or calling you to reconcile or even just thought about you at all. You desperately wanted to reach out to him, but with your relationship you do feel that you’re the one that always has to start the conversation after you’ve had a ‘falling out.’ So all you do is wait ( assuming that you’ve broke up or something for now.)

The two weeks of break has ended and now you’re back at school waiting to face the music. The whole day, you felt anxious waiting to bump into him in the corridor or see him at lunch but you never did.

Later that day you get a message..

Kuroo: Hey y/n! How have you been ??

Y/N: Fine.. i guess

Kuroo: How are things with Kenma

Y/N: Tbh I don’t really know, we haven’t spoken since the weekend...two weeks ago I don’t think we’re together anymore..

Kuroo: Y/N don’t say that you and Kenma are definitley how do you spell deathfinetly? still together just meet him today at the arcade at 8pm and ALL WILL BE REVEALED 

Y/N: okay....

Kuroo: DW Y/N! It’ll all be fine

Nervous, you get changed (making sure to look extra cute because this may be the last time you’ll have the title of ‘Kenma’s Girlfriend’ :(( ) You arrive at the arcade and look around for a second before spotting Kenma at the race car game (where you had your first date) and it looks to you he is hiding something behind his back..

When you reached him he looked very shy (even more so then usual) and you were about to speak before he shouted

“Y/N!” he said cringing at the volume of his own voice “ I need to tell you something, more like show you..”

You stood before him with your arms crossed silently tapping your foot waiting on him to continue. Surprisingly, he brings in front of you a little girl who looked about 8 or 9 with a very very cute face.

“n-n-nice to meet you” she bowed in front of you a blush covering her face

“Y/N this is Ella” Kenma said “My new step-sister”

You were shocked to say the least Kenma having a new sister that was great but didn’t answer ALL your questions. Judging your facial expressions Kenma led you and him to sit down letting Ella go on play (as you obviously watch her close-by) 

“Okay, I know you’re probably confused but Ella is ma’s new boyfriends daughter and that time you came over my house was my first time ‘meeting’ her so instead of doing it physically I thought the best thing to do was to play minecraft with her and as I was so focused on that I kinda sorta forgot about our usual dates and over half term I went over to hyogo were Ella and her dad live for the break to meet them officially I’m sorry very very very sorry Y/N for not contacting you i just assumed you were mad at me ... which you still probably are now so i understand if you want to break up and i-” Kenma stops hearing you slightly chuckle looking exasperated after all that rambling. 

Thats the most you’ve ever heard Kenma speak in one go ever and you thought it was endearing that he has a new sister. Of course you were mad that your boyfriend that he neglected you for weeks but you were definitley over that and wanted to just continue on with your life with him.

Kenma stared at you expecting some form of response and all you did was stand up, go to him and pat his head. 

“You’re so cute kenma” you said “Of course I was mad, but i get it now”

“So are we still boyfr-”

“Miss Y/N” asked Ella looking up at you awww how cute “Are you and nii-chan boyfrined and girlfriend”

Kenma and Ella both stared at you expectedly waiting on your response (Kenma more than Ella)

“Of course he’s my boyfriend sweetie!” You said ruffling her head and you hear Kenma sigh in relief “Let’s go play some games now come one Kenma”

You hold Kenma’s hand as Ella runs ahead of you

“Also Kenma..” you let go of his hand “You let her play on our world..seriously”

Kenma awkwardly rubs the back of his neck and chuckles

“I’ll make it up to Y/N dont worry “ he said

And he did do that indeed, as it seems over the break he built a mansion for you and him and reset the end so you complete the ender dragon with him. But you did also include Ella in on your world now and you and her got closer to the point where she will call you nee-chan.

Authors Note: how do you feel about the ending ?

I hope this is well, I’m not that used with Kenmas character so i hope i wrote it good and you like it! Please give me comments and feedback and my request are open so send in your request please!! Also this was meant to be a part two to my ‘taking a prank too far’ but i kinda wrote this in a different direction 

[whiteqnn]

PURE [3] - Corpse Husband x Fem! Reader

A/N: Over 1 thousand notes. You guys are insane. I can’t see any other explanation.

Thank you so much for all the love and support under the previous parts, all those comments just absolutely made my day! I would never expect this story to receive such a positive feedback, which I’m extremely grateful for! 

Anyway, I decided to add some additional plot to this story - mainly, the sudden criticism and hate directed on Y/N after the last Among Us stream. I thought it would make things more interesting.

That being said, I hope you enjoy the third part ^^

part 1

part 2 

part 4 

part 5

PURE [3]

Y/N stared at her phone screen, reading through the latest tweets of her friends inviting their fans to watch their streams. It was Thursday evening and just as it was planned, everyone was getting ready for another game of Among Us. Just as she would do if it wasn’t for all those comments...

The last stream caused sudden, unexpected amounts of attention on her social media. She probably shouldn’t be that surprised by it, given the fact that by appearing in Sean’s and Felix’s videos she wasn’t all that strange to their fans. But people who watched Rae, Toast, or Corpse’s streams didn’t know her. And apparently, some of them weren’t that happy to see a new face among the group of well-known gamers. 

She always tried to avoid the unnecessary spotlight as much as she could, preferring to stay hidden somewhere behind other, much more popular streamers. And it never bothered her. She was never one to enjoy too much attention anyway.

That’s why when she discovered how upset, or even angry, some people were when she played with all those famous streamers, she was quite shocked, to say the least. 

Like all those comments under Poki’s tweet, in which she mentioned who’s gonna be playing this time...

“Duh, why’s that Y/N chick supposed to play with them again? There are at least hundreds of other, much more popular streamers I can think of who would be better than her.”

“Who the fuck is she anyway? Why’s she there?”

“lmao, some random girl who got lucky enough to know jacksepticeye. Don’t get why she’s playing with them though.”

“NOT HER AGAIN. I SWEAR TO GOD SHE WAS SO FUCKING ANNOYING LAST TIME”

Sure, she wasn’t as famous as Felix, or Sean, or Rae, or anyone else for that matter. Her audience wasn’t very small, but it was nothing compared to the number of fans other YouTubers had. It was understandable that most people didn’t know who she was, and didn’t understand why she was there in the first place.

She was, in fact, just some random girl who was lucky to have Sean as her friend. But in a group of such great and well-known streamers, she definitely stood out like a sore thumb. 

Y/N almost jumped in her seat when her phone beeped with a new message, Sean’s nickname showing up at the top of her screen. 

Jackaboy: We’re starting in a few kiddo

Jackaboy: But join the call now so we can both make fun of Felix

After the last game, she was so excited and couldn’t wait for this evening. She looked forward to cooperating with Sykkuno again, to arguing with Toast, to laughing with Sean and Felix, to murdering other people with Corpse... Yet now, all this excitement seemed to vanish just like the mood to play, let alone talk with other people. They would surely see right through her and try to make her spill the beans, which would ruin the stream. And the last thing she wanted was to ruin their game.

Jackaboy: You there Y/N??

She sighed, thinking of some believable excuse that wouldn’t arouse suspicion, but her mind was flooded with all those comments and DMs she received over those past days, which expressed nothing but hatred towards her. 

Y/N: I’m really sorry Sean, but I don’t think I will be joining you today... I don’t feel very well. 

She waited for Sean’s reply impatiently, expecting him to send her some angry emoji or tell her to move her ass and join the discord call. What she didn’t expect though, was that he would facetime her. 

Her first instinct was to throw her phone across the room as if it would make Sean stop calling. He wouldn’t stop unless she’d tell him the truth. 

So she cleared her throat and plastered the widest smile on her face, before answering his call.

“Alright, what is going on?” Sean asked right away, staring at her with his brows furrowed. He wasn’t in his recording room, but in his kitchen, which meant that he left his stream to call her. “And please don’t tell me you’re sick cause I won’t believe it anyway. And neither will Pewds.”

“I’m tired, Sean... I was working late again and I really need to rest.” she lied, trying to keep her voice steady and calm. She really didn’t want Sean to interrogate her now, not when his fans were waiting for him. “I’m sure you’ll find someone else though. Please tell the guys that I’m sorry”

“Y/N, c’mon, cut this bullshit. What’s wrong?” he asked softly, moving his phone closer to his face. “You know you’re a terrible liar, just tell me what happened. If you don’t wanna play then neither do I.”

“Sean, please don’t do it” she shook her head with a sigh. “Your fans are waiting for you, I’ll be fine.”

“Well they’re waiting for you too you dummy, I already promised them you’ll be playing with us tonight” he stated matter of factly, rolling his eyes. Y/N remained silent for a moment, and Sean suddenly furrowed his brows, narrowing his eyes at her in a suspicious look. “Did someone tell you something rude last time we played? Who and what?”

“What? No, Sean, oh my God. Everyone was super nice, it has nothing to do with the last stream... not with you guys, at least.” she mumbled under her breath, dropping her eyes from Sean’s confused face.

“What do you mean not with you guys? Y/N, what the hell happened?” he demanded, slowly getting more and more worried. She wouldn’t tell him though, too scared that Sean would just laugh it off, even though he also sometimes had problems with dealing with hate. And just as if he was reading her mind, Sean sighed, his face softening in a sad smile. “You’ve read the comments, didn’t you?”

She felt so stupid for being so easily offended by comments of some random people on the Internet, that she just nodded her head meekly, still looking anywhere but at the man. 

“Look kiddo... I’m not gonna tell you to get yourself together and just ignore them, cause it won’t help, and I know cause I’ve been there. Hell, I’m still there.” he chuckled to himself and continued “Anyway, you really shouldn’t be worrying yourself about people who don’t even know you. They don’t know you, Y/N, why would some complete stranger’s opinion matter to you?”

“They said I shouldn’t be playing with you guys... that I’m nothing but a burden and you should be playing with someone who’s at least recognizable.”

“Well excuse me Miss, last time I checked I could choose who the fuck I want to play with.” Sean scoffed, clearly irritated by such comments “You’re one of my best friends Y/N and I don’t give a fuck what some haters say. And neither should you.”

“Maybe you should just invite someone else... It would make everyone happy.” she muttered almost inaudibly, but Sean almost barked at her when he heard her words.

���I told you to cut that bullshit, Y/N! Everyone couldn’t wait for this game and now you wanna back out? C’mon, kid. Do you have any idea how heartbroken Sykkuno’s gonna be? When you left so quickly last time, he kept complaining that he has no one to team up with.” she couldn’t help but smile at that, letting out a tiny giggle. “And Corpse? Have you even seen his last tweet?”

“What? No, I- I don’t follow him...” she said, wondering what Sean was talking about. She quickly searched for Corpse on Twitter, still being on facetime with Sean, and her heart almost dropped when she saw the last tweet.

@.Corpse_Husband Really excited for tonight’s Among Us stream, 8PM PST.

Jacksepticeye

Valkyrae

Pewdiepie

Pokimane

Sykkuno

Disguised Toast 

Logic 

Mr Beast

and, hopefully, my partner in crime - Little Y/N 

:)

She stared at the screen with her eyes widened, and her lips corners curling up in a small, bashful smile. It was so nice of Corpse to mention her as well, especially with the nickname that he seemed to like so much since their last game. 

“God, if you could see yourself right now. How’s it that my pep talk didn’t do shit, but Corpse’s tweet magically made you smile, ugh.” Sean reminded her of his presence, and she quickly returned to the call, trying to somehow control her burning cheeks. 

“It’s not like that, Sean, I really appreciate that you’re trying to cheer me up... I just didn’t expect your friends to like me...” she admitted quietly, and if Sean could, he would probably strangle her at that moment. 

“I JUST TOLD YOU THAT SYKKUNO KEPT BUGGING ME ABOUT YOU FOR TWO FUCKING HOURS. YOU THINK HE WOULD TALK ABOUT YOU IF HE DIDN’T LIKE YOU?!”

“I just... what if they’re just being nice, but they don’t actually want me to play with them?”

“I’m done.” Sean groaned, shaking his head furiously. “Alright, here’s what you’re gonna do. You stay away from your phone, join the discord call, say hi to everyone, and we’re all gonna have fun, okay? If not, Pewds is gonna murder you, cause he was already growing impatient even before I called you.”

“I’m still not sure if that’s a good idea, Sean...”

“But I am sure, Y/N! Now come on, we’re playing in five. I’m telling everyone you’re joining as well.”

And before she could even reply, he hung up. Y/N groaned, rushing to her computer to turn it on. Now it would just be plain rude not to join the game, especially after Sean wasted his time talking with her, while he should be talking to his fans. Just as he suggested, she kept her phone far away from her desk, deciding to stay away from Twitter and all those comments for a bit. Maybe it would help her clear her mind and at least try to have some fun. 

An invite to the group call was already waiting for her, along with a message from Sean with a code to the game. Y/N put her headphones on before joining the call and quickly typing in the code. 

“... so let me repeat myself. I ALWAYS sound guilty, no matter what. Please, guys, don’t vote me out!” 

Y/N shook her head with a smile on her lips when the first thing she heard after joining the call was Felix’s pleading voice. Clearly, he was already trying to save his own ass even before the game began.

 Y/N could hear Sean’s loud voice as he commented on Felix’s plea with some snarky remark, later also catching the sounds of Rae’s laughter. Everyone was already there, they’ve been clearly waiting for her to join. 

“Hey, look who’s finally here! Hi Y/N!” Poki noticed her presence first. 

“Hello everyone” Y/N said, as shy and quiet as usual.

“Oh, Y/N! It’s so great to see you again, I was worried you weren’t joining us tonight” Sykkuno said, a pout clear in his voice. 

“WELL ABOUT DAMN TIME” Felix all but yelled, making her roll her eyes with a smile. “What did I tell you about being late?!”

“Give her a break Felix, her mic wasn’t working again... Luckily, I was there to save the damsel in distress” Sean said, and even though she couldn’t see him, Y/N was almost certain that he was smirking. 

“Yeah, I’m really sorry guys to have kept you waiting so long...” Y/N said, feeling genuinely bad. Maybe Sean was right after all? They could have just invited someone else, and yet they decided to wait for her.  

“It’s okay, you’re here now and it’s all that matters” a deep voice sounded out, and whether she liked it or not, Y/N grinned like an idiot with a blush rising up her cheeks. 

“Shit, here we go again...” Felix sighed, making everyone else laugh. Y/N bit at her lower lip, feeling her heart thump in her chest as she felt a sudden wave of courage, deciding to speak up despite her initial shyness:

“Well... I couldn’t just leave my partner in crime alone, right?” she asked, and she could swear she heard Corpse stutter as if he completely didn’t expect her to say that.  

“Ah yes, after all, killing wouldn’t be the same without her, right Corpse?” Toast teased, repeating Corpse’s words from the last stream. Everyone in the call laughed, Y/N included. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling, even though just mere minutes ago she was on the verge of crying. “It’s good to have you here, Y/N/N. Maybe I’ll actually get a chance to finally kill you this time.”

“Jesus Christ, Toast. You sound like a psychopath. Hey, I’m happy you’re here, lemme stab you in the back, please?” someone whose nickname was MrBeast spoke up with a chuckle, before directing his next words to Y/N “I believe we haven’t played together before, I’m Mr Beast, it’s really nice to meet you Y/N”

“Yeah, pleased to meet you!” another player, Logic, spoke up “I also didn’t have a chance to play with you yet, but I’ve seen Sean’s last stream... Let me just say, that Toast murder was absolutely perfect!” 

“Wow. And here I almost managed to block it out. I’m fucking traumatized Y/N, you should be ashamed of yourself” Toast scoffed over Felix’s laughter. 

“You should be proud of yourself!” Sean interfered “Just so you know lads, Y/N may seem like a little angel, but she’s a little demon. You’ve been warned.” 

“Yeah, she’ll charm you with her voice only to snap your neck next second.” Felix scoffed.

“Just like she did with Corpse!” 

“Charm?!” Y/N gasped, her cheeks burning.

“I don’t recall Y/N killing me...” Corpse said in his low voice. 

“I love how that’s the only thing he denied” Poki pointed out in a teasing voice, which only made Y/N sink further into her chair. 

“Can we please start the game now?” she asked in a pleading voice, hoping that everyone would stop making fun of Corpse and her. She could only imagine how uncomfortable he felt, for some reason being the target of their jokes... They must’ve made him feel awkward, right? 

“Jack, did you tell Y/N how we’re playing tonight?” Sykkuno asked, and she sighed in relief that they dropped the jokes. 

“Oh, right! So there’s this mod called proximity chat, where we’re able to hear each other as we pass by another person, and it seems quite fun so that’s what we decided to try out tonight.” Sean explained to Y/N, and before she could ask another question, he added “I’ve just sent you the link, it’ll take a minute to install it.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you Sean” Y/N said, before downloading the mod and quickly installing it. When everything was set and ready, she pulled up Among Us again and typed in the code, and the game finally began. 

“Woah”

“Holy shit!” 

“Guys this is so cool!” Sykkuno exclaimed, his voice so happy and excited that Y/N couldn’t help but giggle. 

“Okay, I’m scared now. I feel like encounters with Imposter are just gonna be perfectly cut screams” Felix chuckled, as they left the dropship and moved down the map. That’s when Y/N gasped in surprise, upon seeing the locations completely different than those she was used to.

“Wait- is that a different map?” she asked through her mic, hearing Toast’s distanced, devilish laugh. There was only Rae and Sykkuno beside her, as everyone else have already split up to do their tasks.

“Oh yeah, that’s Polus, it’s much more fun than the one we were playing in last time.” Rae explained happily and Y/N groaned. She didn’t know that map.

“Great. I don’t even know how am I supposed to do tasks in here...”

“Oh, it’s not that hard. They’re in most cases similar to those you already know, they only look a little bit different.” Sykkuno said in his kind voice, before asking “Do you want to team up again, Y/N?”

“I thought you would never ask Sykkuno” Rae chuckled under her breath.

“Yeah, that would be great! I need someone to show me around” she smiled. The trio finally moved from their spot beside the dropship and went to the left where, as Y/N later realized, was electrical. She quickly did her task in there, being under the watchful eyes of both Sykkuno and Rae.  

Before the latter could do his own task, the first body was reported.

“The body is in the lab” Felix said, and Y/N couldn’t help but smirk as she saw that it was Toast who was murdered first. One less person to accuse her or try to frame her, if he was the Imposter. 

“I just ran towards the lab from the left side, I only saw Poki on my way there” Corpse said right away, and the accused girl was quick to try and defend herself:

“Okay, I wasn’t in the lab, I was doing that engines task which is next to the lab.” 

“Did you see someone else there?” Jack questioned. 

“Nope, just me and the engines.” 

“Okay. Sykkuno, where are you?” the lime astronaut was next on Jack’s list of suspects, which made Sykkuno groan. 

“Why do you sound so suspicious right away?” he asked in disbelief, causing the rest to giggle “I was with Y/N and Rae all this time, we were all doing our tasks in electrical.”

“Is that true Y/N?”

“Yes Sean, that is true” she rolled her eyes with a laugh “I don’t even know this map, I have to stick with someone so I don’t end up like Toast.”

“Alright, what about rest? Logic? I think I saw you in admin but then you disappeared somewhere.” Felix said.

“Yeah I’m with Mr Beast in the office”

“That’s right” Mr Beast confirmed, which didn’t bring anything new to the investigation, so everyone decided to skip.

“Wo- Okay where are we now?” Y/N asked in surprise, when the new round began in some completely new place Sykkuno didn’t manage to show her yet. She could hear as Corpse laughed at her shocked voice, which made her smile widely.

“Yeah, I’m also not used to this new map yet” he admitted, his black astronaut walking up to her white one “Hey, wanna see something cool?”

“Sure!”

-

*Meanwhile Sykkuno*

“Okay this is bad guys, we lost Y/N” Sykkuno said to his mic, running around the map to find the girl he was earlier teamed up with. “I thought she followed us when the new round began, but she must’ve gone the other way... What if she’s dead already? Not good, not good...” 

-

"Woah! This looks amazing! Is there some task here as well?”

“Yes, there’s temperature recording right here” Corpse said, standing by the lava pit, watching as Y/N’s character ran back and forth over the pool of lava. 

“I wonder if you could jump into it. What do you think, Corpse?” she asked curiously, standing close to the edge. 

“Not that I’m aware of it...” he mumbled coming closer to the edge as well “Why would you jump into it?” he asked with a half-smile on his face. 

“So Felix can’t stab me in the back.” she whispered, even though there was no one around them. 

“You think it’s him?” Corpse mirrored her voice, and she hummed in response “Why?”

“He’s constantly suspicious of everyone, last time we played he also kept interrogating us all, without even telling his own location.” she stated as if it was very obvious. Corpse couldn’t help but let out a laugh “What? Why are you laughing at me?”

“Not at you, Y/N. I’m just impressed by your investigation skills” he admitted “In that case, we better both jump in. Felix likes to frame other people.”

“You wanna jump into the lava with me?”

“Sure I do.”

“There you are!” Sykkuno’s lime astronaut came out of nowhere, followed by Mr Beast. Two of them walked up to Y/N and Corpse, and before the latter could even say anything, Mr Beast snapped Y/N’s neck.

“WAIT, NO-”

“OH GOD, OH GOD” Sykkuno yelled in panic.

“KILL HIM CORPSE” Mr Beast screamed, frantically running around.

-

“What the heck?” Y/N stared at her screen in shock, her dead body laying over the lava pit. Mr Beast had already fled to the left, leaving her, Sykkuno and Corpse standing between two of them. None of them said anything for a moment before the black astronaut finally spoke up.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N” he kept repeating, regret clear in his voice. “And Sykkuno, I- I can’t even express how-”

He was cut off by Felix’s scream, who reported the bodies before Corpse could kill him as well.

“IT’S CORPSE ALRIGHT” Felix yelled right away “HE’S STANDING OVER Y/N AND SYKKUNO, HE HAS THEIR BLOOD ON HIS HANDS”

“That is- I did not kill them” Corpse replied, calm as ever, as opposed to his frantic apologies. 

“Then why were you standing there?! Without reporting the bodies?!”

“I was... mourning their death.” he replied, which caused the whole group to burst out laughing. “Seriously guys, you think I would murder Sykkuno? And Y/N? I would never even think of hurting them.”

“The simp is strong, we get it, but it doesn’t really save your situation” Rae laughed. 

“Let’s kick him out guys, he can’t even defend himself” Sean chuckled, and everyone else didn’t need to be told twice. Soon enough, Y/N watched as Corpse’s black astronaut was thrown into the lava pit... Oh, the irony...

The game continued with her wandering around the map, doing the rest of her tasks to at least support somehow her fellow crewmates. She stumbled upon Corpse’s ghost at some point and laughed wholeheartedly when he started circling her little character in something she read as an attempt to apologize. 

A little while later another body was reported, this time it was Felix who lost his life. Y/N didn’t really focus on the conversation this time, glancing at her phone instead. There was this urge to reach for it and check how people reacted to her joining the game, but she kept repeating Sean’s words in her head. There was no point in worrying about the opinion of somebody who doesn’t even know her... or at least that’s what she tried to convince herself to think. 

Her attention was brought back to the game when she heard the sound of a new message from someone who was also dead. She clicked on the chat, seeing that it was one of the Impostors.

Corpse: :(

Corpse: I’m sorry 

Y/N thought it was sweet of him to apologize for it, even though it was his main goal to murder everyone after all. She believed he was genuinely sorry for it, just like she was each time she was an Impostor and had to kill somebody.

Sykkuno: Welcome to the afterlife, Corpse!

She laughed at Sykkuno’s constant happiness, which was evident even in his messages, before typing one as well:

Y/N: We’re all corpse here

Sykkuno: Oh, so it means we’re all really cool then ^^

Y/N: Fair point

Corpse: See Y/N

Corpse: I told you I would jump into the lava for you 

Y/N: You didn’t exactly jump...

Corpse: :(

Y/N: But let’s say it counts as well :)

Corpse: :)

Before they knew, the voting ended. Mr Beast was thrown into the lava, which ultimately lead to the victory of crewmates. Y/N cheered happily, when the blue sign appeared on her screen, right above everyone else who was innocent. 

“Yaaay, the first time I wasn’t killed in the first game!” Sean announced enthusiastically, his astronaut running around the dropship.

“Yeah, and the first time it went so fast...” 

“Right? Corpse, I’m disappointed in you. What happened to the King of Impostors?” Rae asked.

“Well.. no matter how good you are, you can’t always win, right?” Corpse replied calmly.

“Hmm, you seemed kinda absent-minded during the game, though...” Poki suggested with a smirk hiding in her voice, and Rae was very quick to pick on it.

“Oh, you’ve noticed that too? Almost as if he was distracted by something” 

“I don’t know what are you talking about” he chuckled nervously, and Y/N just sat in her chair confused about what was going on. “Anyway, who’s up for another round?” 

“Yeah, I have an idea” Sean said, effectively shutting everyone up “What if we play something along the lines of hide and seek? Let’s have one impostor, and everyone else needs to get their tasks done before he finds them.”

“That is...” Felix took in a dramatic breath “THE BEST THING I’VE EVER HEARD ABOUT”

“Yeah, I think it will be fun” Sykkuno replied. 

“It sounds really cool, but let’s maybe tell who’s the impostor? I think it would be more fair” Rae suggested. 

“I think it’s a good idea” Sean concluded, before changing the settings for one impostor only. Y/N waited patiently for the game to begin, and when she saw that she was a crewmate again, she sighed in relief. Only to gasp in a panic a second later...

“It’s me.”

Everyone stumbled out of the dropship as Corpse admitted that he’s the impostor. It seemed that knowing exactly who can murder everyone made the whole game a little bit terrifying...

“I don’t know where the heck I’m going” Y/N mumbled to herself with a nervous laugh when instead of doing her tasks, she searched for the perfect place to hide. When she entered security, she spotted Mr Beast fixing the wires, so she decided to join him.

“OH SHIT- god damn it, you scared me to death!” he all but yelled when she appeared next to him, doing her tasks. 

“Sorry” she giggled, quickly finishing the wires, before speeding out of the room. On her way to weapons, she stumbled across Felix’s dead body, and could hear some screaming in the background... but didn’t recognize who was murdered next. 

Y/N managed to do most of her tasks without meeting Corpse, whom she hoped not to see probably for the first time since they played together. She was just leaving decontamination when she heard Sean’s panicked laughter:

“...tee, bitches love me?”

“Wrong.” Corpse’s voice almost made her squeak in surprise, only to really scream when he suddenly snapped Sean’s neck. 

“Retreat, retreat!” Y/N laughed as she sped past oblivious Rae and Logic, Corpse hot on her tail. She quickly returned to the decontamination room, hoping to flee from her inevitable death, when Corpse’s black astronaut walked in, and the door closed. 

“Please don’t kill me” she chuckled, even though there was no hope for her. 

“Finish my lyrics, and I’ll let you live...” he began, and Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion “ I spilt wine...”

“Wait- what lyrics? You sing?” she asked, completely dumbfounded. Corpse was silent for a moment as if he didn’t understand her, before bursting out laughing “What’s so funny again? Corpse, come on!” 

“Yes, Y/N, I do sing, I was actually hoping you’ve heard some of my songs...” he admitted, still chuckling to himself. She felt a blush rising up her cheeks.

“Oh- I- I didn’t, I-... but I will, okay? I’ll do it right away!” she promised, quickly jumping up to grab her phone and listen to Corpse’s song. She was genuinely shocked, she would never expect him to sing! 

 She unlocked her phone with a wide, somehow nervous smile on her face, which, however, dropped the moment she saw her notifications. Hundreds of notifications. 

“You there, Y/N?” Corpse’s voice reached her after a moment, when she still didn’t say anything, just kept looking at her screen. “I hope my music isn’t so bad that you passed out from listening to it...”

She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, her phone gripped tightly in her shaking hands.

“Um, Y/N?” his voice became more worried now “Is everything okay?” 

Y/N cleared her throat and quickly wiped her eyes, closing them for a moment to steady her breathing.

“Yeah, all good Corpse” she forced herself to smile, so her voice wouldn’t sound weird. “Look, um, I need to leave, can you tell the others bye from me?” 

“Is something wrong?” Corpse asked confused.

“No, of course not!” she laughed through her tears “Something just came up and I really need to leave.”

“You sure you’re-”

“Bye Corpse. It was nice playing with you.” 

-

A/N: I hope you guys are not too disappointed in me... It didn’t turn out as I initially thought it would. Isn’t it too dramatic? And is this hate plot fine? Or is it not? What do guys you think? 

TAG LIST IS CLOSED!

@slytherin-chan @pillowjj @afuckingunicornn @love-and-virtues @ignooynim @crapimahuman @hannahjsworld @laugh-like-the-moon @fallengoddess772 @kingric03 @dolphinpink310 @paigeyisme @bunnychano3o @dxrtygxrl28 @z-nyx @baby-iyania @trashygeek

[froggyfics]

Play Fighting

You have a training session with Slade.

This was suppose to come out in September 2023...It's now February 2024. We're gonna just be happy this is finally completed.

Additional note at the bottom

I categorized this as a fem!reader, just because I mentioned “girl” once in this fic. So, I hope that those who prefer gender neutral readers will still enjoy this. 

Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome! 

Pairing: Slade Wilson x fem!reader

Theme: Fluff

Word Count: 1,279

You grunt as your back crudely hits the mat once again. The pain shocks your system, but you’re not at all surprised that you’re in this position.

“I told you, I’m not good at this stuff,” you grumble.

“Get back up,” he commands.

Rage surges through your body and if looks could kill, he would be six feet under already.  He laughs heartily, with his palm clutching his chest.

“You think you can intimidate me, doll? A little girl like you?”

His mocking tone acts as a battery for you, and your depleted energy disappears. You grab the sword that you dropped on the ground and position yourself in a battle stance. 

“Make sure you protect your chin,” he instructs.

You ignore his suggestion.

“Protect your chin,” he repeats.

“Protect your own chin,” you mutter.

He doesn’t respond with words, but instead lunges at you. The speed at which he travels makes you shriek, and you can’t help but drop your sword and cover yourself with your arms. You glue your eyes shut, waiting for the impact.

It never comes. Seconds pass before you slowly open your eyes once again. He’s just standing there with a smirk on his face and his arms crossed. His hair droops down due to his sweat and is sticking out in different directions. The rash guard he has on clings to his body - his muscles barely contained by the thin polyester. The sight of him in front of you makes you salivate, but of course, you can’t let him know that you’re desperately attracted to him. You have an intense crush on him, but you know better than to fall for those ocean blue eyes – sorry – eye. 

“Stop looking at me like that, Slade! C’mon,” you exclaim, as you pick your weapon back up. You can’t stand how he looks pityingly at you. “Fight me like a man!” You try to goad him, but Slade, ever the patient one, refuses to indulge you. 

You beg, plead, and even shout expletives at him to resume the training session. Slade continues to stand in front of you, arms crossed, with that knowing smile on his face. 

The situation is more frustrating given that your gaze falls onto his lips every few seconds. You’re so angry that you can’t control your own impulses. It’s cruel that a man with such a hideous personality could look so attractive.

Well, if he’s not going to fight you, you’ll have to bring the fight to him.

You leap towards him, sword in hand, stabbing the air repeatedly as Slade easily dodges your every attack. He’s light on his feet for a man of his stature. Within seconds, you can feel your fatigue overcome you, especially in your arm.

“Getting tired?”

“Not at all,” you heave. You’re definitely tired, but you won’t let Slade in on that information.

“You can tell me if ya get tired. I know pretty girls like you aren’t used to being pushed around like this,” he purrs.

Thankfully, your face is already red from the training session, otherwise, his comment would’ve made you look like a tomato. 

“Whatever.”

Something in the air changes once the word leaves your mouth. Slade no longer has a playful smirk on his face. He neither smiles nor frowns, but his eye gives away his true feelings. He’s glaring at you.

He lunges at you once more. This time, you don’t cower. You desperately swipe at him with your sword, but it’s useless against him. 

He’s suddenly within arm’s reach, and he slaps your wrist with an open palm. You nearly lose your grip on your sword’s handle, but you recover quickly. 

“I like you girl, but you got one hell of a bratty attitude. Don’t think I won’t teach you a lesson if I got to.”

“You seemed fine with my attitude not too long ago.” You struggle against his grasp, but he has a firm grip on you.

“Yeah? Well, my patience has run out.”

“That’s too bad, I like giving you an attitude.”

He forcibly yanks your arm, and suddenly you’re dangerously close to him. You’re so close that you can smell him. He smells a bit of sweat, with an undercurrent of…vanilla?

“I like correcting attitudes.”

A polite smile crosses your face. “Wait till I tell everyone that the big, bad Deathstroke uses girly body wash. You smell like a bakery.”

Pain radiates up and down the column of your spine. Your back hits the mat before you even register that Slade had leg sweeped you.

For the millionth time in this training session, he has the advantage. He hovers above you in a lunge - triumph oozing out of him. 

You want to humble him so badly. 

He clutches his hip after you punch the bony part of his pelvis as hard as you could. The punch distracts him momentarily, but it’s long enough for you to slither your way out from under him. 

For good measure, you slap him once. Redness immediately begins to surge on his cheek as his capillaries break. You know you’re definitely going to regret doing that later, but you just couldn't resist!

You swing your sword and stop just before it connects to his neck.

Slade wobbles for a moment, still in a lunge, but rights himself within a few seconds. His gaze moves from the sword to you and back to the sword several times. 

It’s at this moment that you think you’ve gone too far, specifically with the slap. Sure, you’re cheeky with Slade every once in a while, but he's always real quick to set you straight when he’s not in the mood.

Based on his expression, he’s not in the mood right now.

However, he’s right where you want him. The upper hand you have - however momentary - makes you all the more confident to do what you’ve been wanting to do for so long.

“Kiss me.”

Slade rarely gets caught by surprise, so you revel in his stupor. “You have a sword to my throat,” he responds with an air of disbelief.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t act like you can’t get out of this situation.”

He doesn’t move. You continue to stare at one another. Sweat gathers in the crevices between your palm and the sword handle, loosening your grip. You swallow loudly. Has it always been this hot in here? Did you just make it creepy? Can he not be this damn irresistible?

“Kiss me,” you whine, a bit more desperately this time.

He sighs deeply, taking a moment to mull over his options.

“Fine,” he says. He leans forward to reach your lips, and you raggedly bend over to meet him halfway. The sharp blade presses into his neck, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

When he’s near centimeters from your face, a great idea crosses your mind. An idea that would solidify your victory for this training session. You let him lean even more closely to you - so close that his eye begins to close in preparation for the kiss. Once his eye closes, you remove the sword from his neck and swiftly move to the side.

The sword acted as a barrier for Slade to keep him upright - once the sword was removed, he fell forward. 

Any other person would have laughably landed on their face, but Slade, ever the skillful mercenary, plants his palms on the floor and pulls himself into a half-plank position. 

He turns his face to look at you with a look of annoyance.

You unceremoniously drop the blade and place your hands on your hips. “Oh, Slade, you take things way too seriously. We were only just play fighting!”

Note: I got the prompt "kiss me...you have a sword to my throat" from @celestialwrites however!!!!! I cannot find for the life of me the exact post that inspired me

[mint-yooxgi]

Gilded Gold - Yandere!Vampire Prince!Jaehyun X Reader

Yandere AU, Vampire AU, & Prince AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Smut (Someone goes a little feral at the end there)

Pairing: Jaehyun X Reader

Words: 22,845

Warnings: Jaehyun is pretty sadistic and manipulative in this one, as such there is a lot of violence and gore mentioned. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: It’s finally here! Omg, after months (again) of nothing, I'm really happy with the length of this one and how it turned out. Certain scenes are really good in my opinion, so hopefully you enjoy reading them just as much as I enjoyed writing them. I’ve nearly had this idea planned out for almost a year, so I'm happy that I've finally finished writing it all out. Tbh, certain scenes are pretty self indulgent... Anyways, I do really hope you enjoy this one, please do let me know what you think! Feedback is always appreciated!

“Is everything prepped and ready for tomorrow?” He asks, expression stern as he looks towards his adviser. 

“Yes, my Prince,” with a nod from the adviser, a smirk begins to slowly spread itself across Jaehyun’s lips.

“Perfect,” a dark look takes over his features, smirk now fully formed as he thinks over his plan once more.

Tomorrow will change everything, and he can hardly wait. For too long he’s waited, watching in the shadows until this day would come. Until finally, he can have everything that he’s ever wanted. Tomorrow, he’ll finally have you.

From the first moment he saw you all those months ago, he knew he had to have you. The way you so willingly went out of your way to help your neighbours with their little market stand only confirmed to Jaehyun that you’re a kindhearted individual. However, if it weren’t for the way you cussed out an older man for attempting to hit on your younger sister, he would have assumed you to be too soft. That is what intrigued him: that you could look so innocent on the outside, but on the inside, contain a strong, level-head, is what drew him to you.

Since then, he’s been sneaking out of the castle at least five times a week to find you, and once he did, he couldn’t stop himself from simply observing you. He became another shadow in the night, and you were none the wiser as to the monster lurking just outside of your window.

The day he learnt that you had no potential suitors, he swears he had never been happier in all his long years of living. It took him a bit of persuading, but he eventually convinced his mother to let himself actively pursue you. She was a bit wary at first, having never met you, nor even having heard of you before. The fact that you’re a mere human, and a commoner, no less, concerned her greatly. However, he made sure to take care of everything before your arrival. After all, you’re his responsibility now, and he’ll make sure to take care of you in any and every way that he can. 

Soon, the whole kingdom will know that you are meant to be his, the Crown Prince’s very own betrothed. The announcement might turn some heads, considering everyone is aware of the vampire society, and how the creatures of the night reign over them, but he’s counting on the support from those whom support interspecies relationships. It will be a huge step in a positive direction for his family to bring a common human into their inner circle. Not that you would have a choice, whether you know it or not.

That night, he barely gets any rest, too excited for what is to come tomorrow. He has it all planned out, the outfit he’s going to wear, how he’s going to make a grand entrance when meeting you for the first time, as well as the first thing he’s going to say to you once he sees you. 

His eyes flash red. Fuck, he finally gets to see you in person with you actually aware of his presence this time. Oh, how he can hardly wait to see your reaction when you gaze upon him for the first time. A smirk slowly tugs at his lips as he envisions the scene in his head, your awestruck face, the wonder shining in your eyes, and the way you’ll bite your lip as you take him in with the realization that he’s all yours.

Tomorrow cannot come fast enough.

That next morning you are awoken by the sound of your mother answering the front door. Muffled voices reach your ears as you bury yourself deeper into the warmth of your comforter. The sound of your door creaking has your eyes flinging open as your mother storms into your room.

“Get up! There’s a royal advisor at our front door asking for you, personally,” she tears your blankets off of you before moving over to your dresser to pull out some of your nicest clothes. “Apparently he has a message from the Prince. For you.”

“For me?” Your head is reeling at the thought of a royal advisor visiting you with a personal message from the Prince himself. What would the Prince want with you? You have no idea.

“Yes, you,” your mother tuts at your confused look as you clamber out of bed. “Now hurry up and get dressed. Don’t keep him waiting.”

Without another word, your mother leaves your room, heading back downstairs so as not to keep the advisor alone for too long. She would have made your sister keep him company, but she had to go to work this morning.

Squinting at your now closed door, you shift your gaze over to the outfit she has so meticulously picked out for you to wear. The clothes are quite literally the nicest ones you own, and your frown deepens. What message could possibly warrant you wearing your nicest clothes?

Yawning, you rub at the sleep still in your eyes. Screw formalities, it’s just a message, it can’t be that serious. Forgoing the outfit, you quickly head to the bathroom to freshen up and at least make yourself look presentable. No matter what this message turns out to be, you’re going to hop right back into bed afterwards anyways, so you see no point in getting dressed.

Making your way downstairs, you hear soft chatter coming from the front room, and as soon as you enter you can feel your mother’s scrutinizing gaze on you for not changing. You briefly make eye contact with her before turning your attention to the unfamiliar man standing across from her. You can already tell from his proper stature and from the royal emblem hanging proudly on the left side of his uniform that he’s the advisor.

“Ah, good, you must be Miss (Y/n), it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he bows to you. “My name is Minho, and I come bearing a message from Prince Jaehyun himself.”

You bow back respectfully, nodding for him to continue as your mother smiles almost nervously from the side of the room.

“You are to be moved to the castle immediately,” he says as your eyes go wide. “You are to be betrothed to Prince Jaehyun effective immediately.”

“Excuse me?” Your jaw has dropped, disbelief clear on your face.

“You are to be moved-“

“No, no, I heard you,” you cut him off, “I meant, what the actual fuck?”

“(Y/n)!” Your mother scolds.

“What? You’re telling me that this completely unprompted visit is to tell me I am to become the prince’s fiancée without any say in the matter?” You ask, incredulously.

“I apologize, I should have been clearer,” Minho clears his throat. “You do get a choice, as it is the Prince’s intention to court you first. However, in doing so, it requires you to come stay at the palace for the time being.”

“I-“ your mouth gapes like a fish out of water, “do I have a choice in this?”

“Of course!” Minho immediately responds. “I understand this is very sudden, and probably very confusing, but the Prince promised to explain everything once you have arrived to the palace for the day. We really shouldn’t keep him waiting too long.”

“I-“ you’re about to object once more when your mother cuts you off.

“Go with him, sweetie,” you frown at the look she’s giving you. You don’t think you’ve ever heard her voice sound so tense, completely different to how she looked when she first entered your room not ten minutes ago. “He told me you would have to leave immediately, so I’ll send a few bags with your stuff later this week.”

“But mom-“

“No buts,” she smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and the Prince chose you, no less. Please be on your best behaviour.”

“Great, then it’s settled!” Minho smiles, beginning to exit the room in order to walk towards the front door. He places a hand at the small of your back and guides you along with him, with you too stunned to say much else. “Thank you for your hospitality,” he bows to your mother once at the door, “we’ll be in touch.”

With those words, he is leading you out of the front and to the car that awaits at the end of the driveway. By now, a few of your neighbours have stepped outside their homes to view what is going on, and you can see them whispering to themselves as you are ushered into the back seat. You only wish you got to say goodbye to your sister before you had to leave.

“Guess leaving is so urgent that I can’t change out of my pyjamas, huh?” You joke, a hint of seriousness to your tone as you cross your arms. 

Minho soon slides into the front seat beside the driver whom has been waiting in the car this whole time.

“I’m afraid not, Miss,” he replies, pulling out his phone. “We’re on a tight schedule today.”

You sigh, leaning your head on your hand as you look out of the window. You see more neighbours watching the car go down the road as you drive off, and you begin to wonder how you even got into this mess. Though you will admit, a part of you is intrigued. To catch the eye of the Prince, the Vampire Prince, no less, is causing your heart to race. 

You’ve seen a few photos of the Prince before in passing, and he does look very handsome, so a part of you is curious to see if that’s actually true. Another part of you feels excitement at the thought of being sought after by the prince himself. Maybe that’s why you’re not putting up more of a fuss at this matter. A sigh escapes your lips at the thought, and you begin to wonder what exactly is in store for you once you arrive at the castle.

About forty-five minutes later, you arrive at the palace. Your breath is quite literally stolen away as you gaze upon the fortress in awe, taking in the arches and crevices in the architecture, along with its massive size.

“If you think the outside is grand, just wait until you see the inside,” Minho chuckles, noting your gaze of wonderment.

His words manage to pull you out of your admiration of the palace and back to the steps in front of you which lead up to the front doors. Shaking your head slightly, you clear your thoughts. You’re sure you’ll have plenty of time to admire and explore the castle once you get settled inside.

“So, uh…“ you trail off, following Minho up the steps, not knowing what to ask first.

“I’ll be leading you to your personal chambers while you’re going to be staying here, then some servants will be coming to prepare you for lunch with the Prince,” Minho explains, and you nod along absentmindedly, still too distracted by the grand stonework of the building, of which is much more intricate on the inside. “I’m sure His Royal Highness would gladly take you on a tour of the premisses, given how intrigued you seem to be by the grounds already.”

At this you can feel your face heat up in slight embarrassment, “sorry.”

“No, no, don’t apologize, Miss,” Minho smiles at you assuringly. “It’s quite nice to see someone admiring the architecture once more.”

“What do you mean?” You tilt your head slightly in curiosity.

“Oh, it’s just been quite a while since we’ve had a new guest who’s admired the detailing as you are,” he says.

“Must not get many new guests then,” you mutter, but he still manages to hear you.

“No, not really,” he sighs, eyes soon going wide as he’s come to realize what he’s just said, clearing his throat in the next moment. “I mean, I’ve said enough already.”

You simply hum in response as he leads you through some side corridors and up another set of stairs. You can feel your legs burning at the amount of flights you’ve climbed, not used to the amount of steps yet. Once you reach the tops of the stairs, you find yourself resting your hands on your knees in order to catch you breath.

“One second,” you hold up a finger, indicating to Minho to stop and let you catch your breath.

“Alright, but we really mustn’t delay, Miss,” he says, worry flashing briefly in his eyes, but it passes so quickly that you do not see it.

After a few moments, you right yourself, taking a deep breath before nodding at him to continue. He nearly breathes a sigh of relief as he continues to lead you down the hallway you’re now in, checking his watch on the way and noticing he’ll make it just in time. It’s important for everything to go according to schedule today, or so the Prince has reminded him countless times, along with the other staff. Everything has to be perfect.

Leading you to a set of doors near the end of the hallway, Minho pushes them both open to reveal a large room full of everything you could possibly think of. You’re pretty sure this room is the size of your entire main floor of your house, complete with a four post king sized bed, privacy screen which looks like it leads to another part of the room, along with various shelves, desks, and cabinets spread throughout. To say you are awestruck would be an understatement.

You take your time wandering around the room, opening one of the side doors to find an adjacent bathroom built for the gods. A large tub rests on one side, along with a set of double sinks, a large mirror that takes up the entire wall, along with a huge shower which you believe also works as a sauna. You are hardly able to believe what you’re seeing, this is all so unbelievable. To think, your lifestyle quite literally has changed in the blink of an eye. 

Now, if only you could see what rests behind the privacy screen. You’ve avoided opening the doors so far due to the fact that you’re unsure what’s waiting for you on the other side. In the back of your mind, you hope it’s not another room. More particularly, that it’s not the Prince’s room.

The whole time that you spend exploring your new room, Jaehyun stands just off to the side beside the privacy screen where you cannot see him. A smirk is ever present on his face. He could smell your scent getting closer with every step you took down the hallway, only serving to make his dead heart race in his chest. He cannot help how his mouth salivates at the thought of you now only being one room away, nothing more than a thin set of doors standing between your bodies. He can hardly wait to meet you.

After a few more moments of you taking in your new room, you turn to look at Minho, “so, uh, am I allowed to see what’s behind those privacy doors,” you motion to them with your head, “or is that part off-limits?”

Your attempt at a joke earns a small chuckle from him, “actually, I believe the Prince should be joining us soon.”

“Is that the Prince’s room?” Your eyes widen as your suspicion is all but confirmed. You know you’re expected to become close with him, but you aren’t expecting to be literally sharing a room.

“Oh, no!” Minho is quick to answer, to which you breathe a small sigh of relief. “I believe His Highness went to inspect the second portion of your room earlier, before your arrival, in order to make sure everything is up to his standards.”

“Ah, I see,” you nod in understanding. “Glad to know he’s taking such precautions for me.”

Of course! He wants nothing but the best for you, after all. It’s what you deserve. Jaehyun’s smirk only grows, and he takes your words as his cue to finally make his presence known, and finally enter the room.

Ever so slowly, you notice a shadow forming behind the semi-transparent screen. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, racing at the prospect of finally being able to meet the Prince in person. Little do you know, that this is not the first time that the Prince will be seeing you.

Just like a scene from a movie, the doors part, Prince Jaehyun stepping through the threshold. His gaze lingers on the ground briefly before finally looking upwards to lock gazes with you. Your breath hitches, and you can feel your heart skipping a beat, all of which does not go unheard by Jaehyun, only serving to make him more smug during this time. Besides, the smirk resting on his features only adds to his charming good looks as he takes a confident step forwards, slowly making his way over to you.

The whole time, your eyes never leave his. Again, to say you’re stunned would be an understatement. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a finer looking specimen in your entire life, and from the looks of things, he can read your expression like an open book. 

For a brief moment, your gaze rakes over his entire body, and you have to stop yourself from inhaling sharply once more. He’s wearing the finest embroidered suit that you’ve ever seen in your life, the sharp gold thread contrasting with the black fabric. You know the suit must have cost a fortune, just from the design alone, not to mention the materials. The detailing of the floral design, combined with the surrounding leaves is stunning, but what catches your attention the most is the fact that he’s not wearing a shirt beneath the suit jacket. You can see the smooth skin of his chest on display, only serving to make you lick your lips in admiration, anticipation lingering in your chest. For what, you aren’t quite sure, but fuck, you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t think he was extremely attractive.

His chest swells with pride. He knew you would react like this, only confirming to him that you also find him as attractive as he finds you. Well, considering all the peasants you had to endure back in your hometown, he’s not surprised. As if any of them ever stood a chance with you. Well, not if he had anything to say about it.

So far, everything is going exactly how he has planned it to, and he couldn’t be more happier in this moment. Minho was on time and everything, though Jaehyun worried at one point that you were running behind schedule. He cannot let that happen, everything needs to run like clockwork in order for things to be perfect.

The one thing that he wishes more than anything that he could do right now would be to take you into his arms, but he knows that would be overstepping boundaries at the moment. The last thing he wants to do is scare you off on the first day. After all, since you’re going to be spending eternity together, he doesn’t want to push you away now.

You don’t mean to stare as you have been, but you cannot help it. With wide eyes and slightly parted lips, you continue to stand there, almost dumbfounded by the current events. By now, you are most certainly regretting not listening to your mother to change into your nicest clothes. Meeting the Prince while still in your pyjamas is making you feel a bit self-conscious. How embarrassing, to meet him while you’re still in your sleep clothes.

On the other hand, Jaehyun thinks that it’s so endearing that you’re still dressed in your pyjamas. Were you that excited to meet him that you couldn’t even wait to leave, meaning you forwent changing? How adorable.

“Miss (Y/n), may I formally introduce you to Prince-“

“Jung Jaehyun,” he cuts Minho off, taking your hand into his own in order to bring it to his lips and kiss the back of it tenderly. Oh, how soft your skin feels against his own. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Introducing yourself, your voice is a bit airy, still breathless due to everything that you’ve encountered so far. You’re especially impressed with the way he’s held himself, “the pleasure is all mine, Your Highness.”

“Please,” he smiles, running his thumb over the skin on the back of your hand before releasing his hold on you and returning his hands to his sides, “call me Jaehyun.”

You smile back politely, thoughts running through your head a mile a minute. All the while, your nerves begin to grow, and you begin to ponder why exactly it was you that he chose. You don’t necessarily think you’re anything special, but Jaehyun would beg to differ.

“Um, I was told that we were going to be dining soon?” You ask, shifting slightly from foot to foot as you attempt to break the small silence that has settled over the three of you. You figure Minho is probably avoiding saying anything right now out of respect for you and the Prince.

“Ah, yes,” Jaehyun nods once in confirmation. “That is, if you’re willing to join me for lunch. Of course, I’ll let you change first, unless you’d prefer to stay in those.”

At the motion of his head towards your choice in outfit, you can feel your cheeks heating up once more in embarrassment.

“Oh, uh…” you avoid his gaze for the first time today, and he can’t help but be reminded of how cute you are as you add quietly, “I don’t have anything else to wear.”

He simply quirks a brow in response, “has Minho not shown you your wardrobe yet?”

“No, I-“ you smile sheepishly, “I didn’t get a chance to pack any of my own clothes before I left. I mean, I didn’t even have a chance to change.”

He chuckles this time in response, “come with me, Princess.”

You cannot deny the way your heart positively flutters when he calls you that. A fact which only makes him smile subtly. You haven’t even known him for more than fifteen minutes and he already sets your heart racing. A fact which only serves to stroke his ego even further. This is going even better than anything he could have ever planned.

Leading you over to a side door that resides in the second half of your room, of which you notice is a lavish seating area complete with a chaise, he opens it. A grandiose closet is revealed to you, filled with the most lavish pieces of clothing you’ve ever seen in your entire life. Dresses, shirts, skirts, you name it, line the shelves. Rows upon rows of accessories cause your eyes to widen even further than they already have. You cannot help the surprised gasp that escapes your lips as you take it all in.

“Is this-“ you blink, attempting to wrap your head around everything as you try to get the words out, “is this-“

“It’s all for you, Princess,” Jaehyun smiles at your wide eyed expression.

“I-“ you turn to him, “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he assures you.

“Honestly, I’m torn,” you bite your lip nervously.

He simply quirks a brow at you to continue, despite the fact a frown wants to pull onto his features.

“I’m torn between ‘I can’t accept this’, and ‘thank you so much’,” you admit, and you hear him chuckle once more. Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Minho tense.

“Always so humble,” he hums. “Don’t worry about it, it’s a gift.”

“I-“ you take a deep breath, “thank you.”

He smiles, putting his hands in the pockets of his pants, “just promise me that you’ll use it.”

You notice how he motions to the closet with his head, and you immediately nod, “of course.”

“Good,” he nods once. “Well, I’ll let you get ready. Maria and Greta should be arriving soon to prepare you for lunch.”

As soon as he finishes speaking, a soft knock sounds at your bedroom door, signifying the arrival of the two aforementioned women. He could hear them walking down the hallway and figured now would be as good a time as ever to take his leave, even if it will be momentarily.

“I’ll see you soon, Princess,” with those words, he walks out of your room. 

The two women whom have been patiently waiting in the hallway to come in now step inside as Minho steps out of the room following Jaehyun. You notice that they look somewhat nervous, approaching you carefully as if you’re someone to be cautious of. You send them a reassuring smile, introducing yourself shortly after.

“It’s nice to finally meet the woman the Prince has been talking non-stop about,” Maria admits, seeming to relax more now that you’ve talked to the two of them.

“Maria,” Greta hisses while elbowing her partner. Your brow furrows, it seems as if they’re not allowed to talk about that in front of you.

“He’s talked about me?” You question as they move you into the closet to pick out an outfit for the day.

“Oh yes,” Maria nods. “He’s been very… excited for you to come visit the palace.”

“I won’t warn you again,” Greta narrows her eyes at Maria disapprovingly.

“Am I not allowed to ask about it then?” You frown.

“Oh, you can ask any and all the questions you’d like,” Greta answers, pulling a simple gown down from the racks. “We’re just not supposed to talk about certain things.”

“Like the Prince?”

“Listen dearie,” Greta sighs. “If you knew what’s best for you, you’d run, and run far.”

Her words only serve to confuse you even more, especially at the nervous expression Maria now wears on her face.

“Is there something I should know?” You ask as they help you into the dress.

“Don’t listen to Greta, dear,” Maria pats your arm gently once the dress is secure. “The Prince is a wonderful gentleman, and from the looks of things, he’s completely smitten with you.”

“But he hardly even knows me,” you mumble as they start to work on your hair.

“He knows you better than you think,” Greta’s voice is barely above a whisper. In fact, it’s so faint, you don’t catch all of what she says.

“Pardon me?” You catch her gaze in the mirror they have you sitting in front of now.

“All the more reason for you to get to know him better,” she corrects herself with a smile, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

Maria manages to change the subject shortly after by asking you questions about yourself, and her telling you small stories about her life. The two of you are able to connect well quickly, and you know that if she continues to look after you while you’re here, you will have a friend in her. Greta, on the other hand, you’re not so sure about.

Not only does she continuously look at you with worry in her eyes, she scolds Maria any time she thinks Maria has overstepped any sort of boundary. The amount of times Maria has begun to tell you about the Prince, only for her to be cut off by Greta soon after is astounding. Hopefully you can get some answers from the Prince himself. After all, you are going to lunch together.

“There, all finished,” Maria smiles warmly at you as she helps you stand up.

“Thank you,” you smile back, smoothing out the front of your gown subconsciously.

“Come now,” Greta says, checking her watch, “or else we’ll be late.”

“Oh dear, we wouldn’t want that,” Maria suddenly looks worried. “We’ll lead you to the dining room. His Highness should already be waiting.”

“I guess I shouldn’t keep him waiting, then,” you joke as you three move to exit the room.

You fail to notice the brief glance the two of them share as Greta says, “no, you really shouldn’t.”

Without another word, you all make your way down the hallway, them leading you to where Jaehyun has instructed them to meet him. As he hears you approaching, a small smile tugs at his lips. He can’t wait to start his forever with you, and today is day one.

“Ready for lunch?” He asks, turning around just as you walk up to him.

You nod, humming your eagerness. You can’t wait to see what they decide to serve to eat, you are in a palace after all. Besides, the company is wonderful so far, and you really want to get to know him better.

Lunch with Jaehyun passes by far too quickly for either of your likings, and before you know it, you’re both finished. To say that you enjoy your time with him would be an understatement. Not only was the food delicious, but you also got to do what you wanted and get to know him better. One thing you know for sure, is that he has a beautiful smile, of which you hope to see more of. Plus, he’s got the cutest dimples you’ve ever seen.

After lunch, he gives you a tour of the castle, and once again, your breath is stolen from your lungs. The whole time you spend admiring the architecture, Jaehyun spends admiring you. His dead heart races in his chest every time he looks over to see that awestruck expression on your face. You’re so beautiful, and the fact that you’re admiring everything he shows you so far, along with how grateful you’ve been towards him, assures him that he’s made the best choice in choosing you as his fiancée.

Every so often, his hand will brush against your own as he walks with you through the castle. You cannot help the rush you feel each time he does this, his touch both innocent and teasing at the same time. Each brush only makes a subtle smirk pull at his own lips, knowing he already has such an effect on you.

All too soon, the afternoon comes to an end and he’s leading you back to your room for the evening. He’s told you that you’ll more than likely be meeting his mother tomorrow, so you should get as much rest as you can, considering how hectic the day has been for you.

“If you ever need me, I’m just down the hallway to your left,” he tells you, of which you find yourself nodding in response. “If an emergency ever arises, come and get me. No matter the time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, lips twitching upwards in a half smile. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” he returns your smile. “I’ll always be here for you.”

By now, the two of you have stopped just outside of your bedroom door. You stare deeply into his eyes, and you can see the sincerity reflected in them. Your lips part slightly as you take a small step backwards as he continues to stare intensely at you, almost as if he’s in a daze.

Before you know it, he’s blinking as if to clear his head while clearing his throat, “well, I’ve got a few things to attend to before dinner. I’ll have someone bring you something to eat for then. In the meantime, feel free to do whatever you’d like, just let Maria know where you’ll be.”

“Sounds good,” you smile once more.

“See you later, Princess,” he grins, grabbing your hand in order to place a gentle kiss onto the back of it, successfully making your face warm. Without another word, he takes his leave. 

Watching his figure disappear down the hallway, you let out a blissful sigh. Lunch was enjoyable, and you can’t wait to see what else he has in store for you. Not only that, but you can’t wait to further explore the castle and find your favourite spots. Hopefully you can find a little nook to read some of the books from the massive library that caught your eye while you explored with Jaehyun.

Entering your room, you bite your lip. The only thing you’re particularly nervous about would be meeting his mother. Based off of what he’s told you about her so far, she can be very picky about mannerisms, and it can be difficult for anyone new to impress her. Maybe that’s what Minho meant by no one new has come to the palace for a long time. You just hope you can make a good impression, or at least good enough for her to at least tolerate you. After all, if you’re to marry her son, having her like you would be a huge success.

“You okay there?” Maria’s voice manages to pull you out of your own thoughts.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” you reply absentmindedly, walking further into the room as the door falls shut. Your brow furrows slightly as you notice Greta isn’t with her this time. “Where’s Greta?”

Maria stiffens ever so slightly, “she has this afternoon and evening off.”

“Ah, makes sense,” you nod, moving to sit on your bed.

“Is there anything I can get for you, Miss?” She asks politely.

“Not at the moment, thank you,” you shoot her a grateful smile. “I think I might just nap, I am a bit sleepy.”

“Alright, well, I’ll help you change,” 

“No need, I can do it myself,”

“No, please, I insist,” she’s already begun to move around your room and grabs a fresh set of clothes for you to change into. “After all, it’s what I’m here for.”

“Well, okay,” you sigh softly, allowing Maria to help you change.

Once done, the two of you just sit together in your room talking about anything and everything. She tells you that her family has always served the Jung’s for as long as she can remember, but she doesn’t mind it here. Apparently, the job pays really well, and they get ample time off.

Before you know it, there is a knock on your door and another servant is there holding a tray for you piled high with plates containing your evening meal. You thank them and move to take the tray from their hands, but they insist on putting it down for you. They set everything up for you on the table in your room before bowing respectively and leaving you to your own with Maria still patiently standing off to the side.

Sitting back down, your eyes rake over the food now resting in front of you. This is one of your favourite meals, but Jaehyun couldn’t possibly know that. Could he?

“The Prince made special preparations for you before you came,” Maria says, noticing your stare.

“This is my favourite dish,” you comment.

“I take it everything is to your liking, then?” She smiles.

“Of course, but I still don’t understand how he knows this is my favourite dish,” you say.

“If I’m not mistaken, I believe he was informed by your mother,”

“He’s talked with my mom?” Your eyes widen slightly in surprise.

“Oh, I mean, Minho was told by your mother, who in turn told Prince Jaehyun when he got back to the palace today,” Maria is quick to correct herself.

“Ah, I see,” you turn back to the food spread out in front of you. “Oh my! Where are my manners? Would you like anything?”

Maria almost looks caught off guard by your offer of sharing your food with her, “oh, no, thank you! I couldn’t.”

“Nonsense,” you shake your head, pushing one of the many side dishes over to her. “I don’t like eating alone, anyways.”

“Are you sure?” Her voice is hesitant, gnawing her bottom lip in worry.

“Of course,” you confirm. “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.”

“Thank you, Miss,” she graciously accepts the dish, grabbing a set of utensils to join you in eating.

You simply smile at her in response, happy to be sharing your favourite meal with someone else. Her presence brings you comfort in this still unfamiliar place, of which you know will take some getting used to, despite the tour you took today. After all, you are alone, and far from home.

Meanwhile, Jaehyun paces in his study. He sent Minho to gather Greta for him just before you came to meet him downstairs for lunch that day. He overheard what she told you, and to say he was not impressed would be an understatement. Is she trying to make him look bad in front of you? No matter, he’ll dispose of the problem soon enough.

“Minho, I still don’t understand what’s going on-“ Greta’s voice gets caught in her throat once she is escorted inside the study to see Jaehyun now leaning against his desk with his arms crossed.

“Your Highness,” she bows respectively. “How may I be of service to you?”

“I have a favour to ask of you, Greta,” the way he says her name sends a shiver of fear running down her spine: full of venom and malice.

“Y-yes, sir, what is it?” Her blood is rushing through her. She’s heard of the Prince’s famous glare but never having been on the receiving end, there’s nothing that could have prepared her for the look of bloodlust in his eyes that came about so suddenly.

“I want you to run, Greta,” he pushes himself off the edge the desk, staring directly into her eyes, “and run far.”

A gasp escapes her lips. He heard.

“Well?” He hums, tauntingly, amusement shining in his eyes as he stares at her now trembling form. “What are you waiting for? That’s an order.”

With a shaky nod from her, she’s bustling out of the room and down the hallway. He can still hear the sound of her racing heart even after she makes it to the floor below him.

The malicious grin never leaves his lips as he begins to make his way out of his study. Currently, he is a predator stalking their prey. This’ll be fun, he hasn’t had to chase his prey in a while, and he cannot wait to tear into her throat. How dare she even suggest that you run from him. He would never hurt you. 

Anyone else, on the other hand? Fair game.

“Are you really sure this is necessary, my Prince?” Minho nervously watches Jaehyun as he passes through the doorway into the hall.

“Of course,” Jaehyun smiles, but it only serves to unnerve Minho as Jaehyun’s eyes flash red in the next moment. “She nearly lost me what is mine.”

In the blink of an eye, Jaehyun is gone from his sight, and Minho can only breathe a sigh of relief that he’s left unharmed this evening. Once Jaehyun sets his mind to something, there is no changing it. No one can stop him when he’s on a warpath, and Minho is just glad that he isn’t on the receiving end of one of the Prince’s violent episodes.

It takes Jaehyun mere seconds to catch up with Greta, who has been able to make it into the grand foyer before the main doors. He slams her against the wall, hearing a few of her bones fracture due to the impact. Her whimpers and pleas for her own life fall on deaf ears, even as more servants shuffle passed. They all know not to get involved, lest they want to suffer the same fate as Greta. Too many have learned that the hard way.

The last thing she sees is Jaehyun’s malicious smirk, fangs on full display as he tears into her throat. Once he’s sure she’s dead, he tosses her body aside, letting the blood spill over the floor. He spits the chunk of her neck he has in his mouth onto her body, a look of pure disgust on his face as he glares down at her corpse.

“Somebody clean this mess up,” he snarls out as he turns his back to her body. The others are frozen in fear, but his growl manages to have a few snapping immediately to their senses and rushing over to Greta’s dead body. “Now!”

He doesn’t stick around to see if they remove her or not, opting to head straight to his room for the evening. He wants to see you again, but he knows that it might be too soon. Besides, with his emotions heightened at the moment, he would potentially be putting you in danger. At least he’ll still be able to smell your scent, and hear whatever it is that you’re doing. That’s enough for him, for now.

A smile tugs at his lips as he faintly hears you conversing with Maria about something that happened to you during your childhood. He knew placing Maria with you as your personal assistant would be a good idea. Greta was his mother’s choice, and he had a feeling she was going to be nothing but a nuisance for him. Nothing is going to get in his way of winning your heart. Nothing. Everything has to go according to plan.

The following morning, he does a brief check of the front foyer to make sure everything has been cleaned properly, and that nothing remains of the events of that previous evening. The last thing he wants is for you to see something like that. Seeing that it’s been cleared of any evidence, he smiles, making his way back upstairs to finally greet you for the day.

To be quite honest, he is a little nervous himself for you to meet his mother. She didn’t exactly approve of him essentially stalking you, what he just calls taking a keen interest in making sure you’re doing alright. If Greta was any indication of how his mother will act, he knows she’ll probably devise a plan to take you away from him, or worse, make you afraid of him. After all, she knows exactly how her son can be.

Knocking gently on your door, he can hear your soft footfalls as you walk closer to him. He can’t wait to see you, and when you open the door to reveal yourself he most certainly is not disappointed with what he sees. How you look more beautiful every time he sees you is a mystery to him. One thing he knows for sure though, is that you’ve enchanted him since the moment he first laid eyes on you.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he smiles, noticing how you react positively to his words.

“Good morning,” you greet back politely, a small smile gracing your own features.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks, noticing Maria has already remade your bed.

“Quite,” you nod, smile only widening as you look at him. “Did you?”

“I did indeed,” he hums in response, though he would have slept better if you were in his arms. “Are you ready for today?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you let out a nervous chuckle as you step into the hallway, closing the door gently behind you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be with you the whole time,” he assures you, extending his arm out for you to loop yours with his. “Let’s get going.”

“Yes, let’s,” you hum back, taking his arm as you begin to walk down the hallway. “Any advice for me before we meet you mother?”

“Just be your usual charming self, and I’m sure you’ll be fine,” he squeezes your arm slightly, causing you to look over to already see him smiling at you.

You say nothing but choose to nod in understanding. You just hope your usual charming self doesn’t do or say anything that might embarrass you.

The two of you make idle chat as you make your way to the throne room to meet his mother. He manages to make you laugh, loosening your tense shoulders slightly as you relax the more he’s able to distract you. The whole time, he observes you fondly, glad to know that he can ease your nerves slightly, even if you’ve only officially known each other for a day. If only he could help you to relax in any and every other way he knows how.

All too soon, you’ve arrived just outside the doors to the throne room. Minho already stands waiting outside the grand set of double doors for the two of you, announcing your arrival to the queen as the doors part for you to walk through. 

Your heart races in your chest, nerves momentarily returning as you’re faced with the task at hand. This is one of the most important moments in your mind, for if his mother doesn’t approve of you, you do not know what will happen. That being said, you want to make sure to make the best impression you can on his mother, no matter what happens.

Walking into the room, you see his mother already sitting on her throne, watching the two of you as you approach where she is seated. Her gaze is scrutinizing, though it seems as if she’s watching he son more closely than she’s watching you. A fact which confuses you slightly since you would have assumed she would be more interested in how you hold yourself around her son rather than how her son holds himself around you. However this may be, you’re only grateful for the momentary relief you feel as you finally stop just before her throne.

“Mother, I’d like to formally introduce you to the woman whom I’d like to become my betrothed,” Jaehyun introduces you, telling her your name shortly after.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Majesty,” you say, bowing politely in introduction to the queen.

“Please, Your Majesty sounds so formal,” the queen waves her hand slightly in the air as if dismissing the remark before leaning forwards slightly in her throne, “call me Cathy.”

“Huh,” you muse, “like mother, like son.”

“Oh?” Cathy’s amusement is clear on her face as she looks from Jaehyun over to you.

“Yes,” you confirm. “It seems not liking titles runs in the family. Jaehyun’s also told me to call him by his name instead of his title.”

“Has he now?” Cathy leans back, eyeing her son suspiciously. That’s very unlike her son, as he only ever allows people to call him by his title, no matter who they may be. You must be important to him then, a fact which only causes her worry for you to grow. None of her son’s other playthings ever got to address him by his first name. “And has he been treating you alright so far?”

Jaehyun’s eyes narrow ever so subtly at his mother, for he knows what game she’s playing. Like hell she’ll catch him slipping up.

“He’s been nothing but a gentleman since I’ve arrived,” you respond, and if your words don’t fill his chest with pride, nothing else will. He can hardly wait for you to see what else he has in store for you.

“I see,” she hums, placing her hands gracefully in her lap.

“I’d also just like to thank you very much for your hospitality, and for letting me stay at the palace during this time,” you bow deeply once more. “Thank you.”

“Of course, sweetie,” she smiles. “Anything for the one my little Jaehyunnie has been so obsessed with lately.”

“Mother,” Jaehyun’s reaction is a warning to her, but to you it just sounds like a boy being embarrassed by his mom.

You giggle, and normally he would think it’s the sweetest sound, if not for the circumstances. “So I’ve heard.”

“Ah, I see,” Cathy grins. “He’s already told you all about how he-“

“Are you quite content, mother?” Jaehyun interrupts, eyes flashing his warning towards Cathy who only appears to be amused at his antics.

“Oh, indeed,” she smiles back, though you fail to register the malice hidden behind her lips. “I was only hoping to be joined by Miss (Y/n) here for some morning beverages. I’d love to get to know her better, if she’s alright with that, of course.”

Before Jaehyun can even respond, you’re already speaking, “I’d love that.”

“Excellent!” His mother stands, descending the stairs and coming to stand before you. Having her this close really makes you realize the amount of power and regality she possesses. She extends her hand out for you to take. “If you’d be so kind as to join me.”

“Of course! Thank you,” you take her hand, allowing her to lead you out of the throne room as your arm slips out of Jaehyun’s grasp. With one final glance back, you see Jaehyun already staring after you, an unreadable expression on his face.

Turning back around, you notice Cathy leading you towards the gardens. Once outside, you see a nice table already set up facing the fountain, some of the finest cups and plates already set on top. Letting go of your hand, she motions for you to sit with her, a servant already pouring what looks like a steaming cup of tea for each of you.

“Thank you,” you repeat your words from earlier once you’re seated, graciously accepting the cup that is handed to you.

“I’m so glad you could join me this morning for a little girl talk,” she smiles, tilting her own cup in your direction in a mock ‘cheers’ gesture, of which you mirror.

“It’s nice to be invited,” you reply, taking a sip of your drink.

“I want you to know that you can come to me for anything, dear,” she says, looking you directly in your eyes and you’re momentarily stunned by how sincere she looks. “Absolutely anything.”

“Oh my,” you blink a few times in surprise, “that’s awfully kind of you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good,” her gaze lessens in intensity, allowing for your shoulders to relax slightly, not that you had even been aware of tensing them. “I know how my son can be, so your safety and happiness is my number one priority.”

“Thank you,” is all you can say, and you’re starting to feel like a broken record, but you truly are grateful for her words. Though, you don’t quite know exactly what she means by her most recent ones. Jaehyun, to you, seems like a really nice, caring guy, so the knowing look she sends you when she says that only serves to confuse you. Besides, she seems a lot nicer than what Jaehyun had made her out to be, of which you find a bit strange. Perhaps she’s just putting up a nice front for your sake at the moment. Either way, you’ll make sure not to do anything that would warrant her to dislike you.

“So, tell me about yourself,” Cathy sips her tea, leaning back in her seat to get comfortable as she watches you.

The rest of the morning is spent with the queen, getting a feel for each other and learning all about the other. She listens intently to everything you have to say and she looks genuinely so intrigued by you. The more time you spend with her, the more you seem to relax around her. She’s nothing like how Jaehyun described, which only makes you believe that that’s his familial side talking. Perhaps they’re not as close as the media makes them out to be.

By the time lunch rolls around, you find yourself eating alongside the Queen in the dining room, Jaehyun nowhere to be seen. Noticing your curious gaze, she mentions that he has some diplomatic council meeting to attend to, but he’ll probably be joining you for dinner that evening. You simply nod in response, continuing on with your conversation with the Queen.

Another hour passes with you spending time with Cathy, and the both of you enjoy this so much that you plan to make your little girl talk a weekly thing. You end up leaving with a smile on your face, as if a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders as you head back to your room. Honestly, you cannot wait for next week to be able to spend more time with the Queen, as she’s nothing at all like you were expecting. It’ll be nice to have another person that you can consider a friend while you’re staying here.

Making it back to your room, you’re greeted by Maria who seems to have been patiently waiting for your return. She asks you how your day has been so far, and you tell her honestly that you had a lovely morning with the Queen. 

“I’m a little surprised though,” you admit.

“Why’s that?” She asks, brow furrowing in slight concern.

“Jaehyun told me that she was a hard woman to please,”

“Really?” Her voice comes out in mild disbelief. From what she knows of the Queen, she’s a lovely person through and through. The Prince on the other hand… though she would never tell you that. Not that she could without risk of losing her life and everything she holds dear.

“Still, I’m glad we made such a connection today,” you smile. “That’s good, right? Getting his mom to like me is a step in a positive direction.”

“Of course, Miss,” Maria returns your smile, though it seems a bit forced. She has to be extra careful around you now with how she acts and what she says, after all, by now, every servant in the castle has heard of what happened to Greta last night.

“By the way, how’s Greta doing? I haven’t seen her since yesterday,” you wonder aloud, almost missing the way Maria’s shoulders seem to tense at the inquiry.

“Oh, uh, about that,” Maria says, eyes shifting nervously around the room. She’s just grateful she’s facing away from you at the moment. “Greta took a vacation to go visit her family, so she won’t be back for a while.”

“Ah, I see,” you hum. “That’s nice, hopefully she has a lovely time with her family.”

If only you knew what kind of condition she was in when her body was sent back to her family. Maybe then you would have heeded her warnings.

“Yeah,” Maria replies, somewhat breathless. “Hopefully.”

The next few weeks pass by in a blur for you, each day bringing about a new adventure with Jaehyun. So far, he makes you very happy, and you’re beginning to settle into things at the castle. You especially look forward to the weekly girl talk dates with Cathy, of which she’s asked you to start calling her ‘mom’. Each time she does, you smile shyly and your heart warms, though when you told Jaehyun, he seemed quite shocked.

You’ve also discovered that some of the servants are humans and others are vampires, which was a bit of a surprise to you since you thought all of the servants were humans. At least most of the one’s you’ve encountered so far are. They’ve all been super nice to you, except for the odd one that either looks at you with pity or worry in their eyes. A few even go so far as to attempt to warn you against something, but Jaehyun always appears before they can finish whatever it is that they have to tell you. Whenever this happens, you can never understand the fear that seems to take hold of their body, eyes pleadingly looking towards Jaehyun. Oddly enough, you usually never encounter them again, only hearing brief mention of their names from passing servants.

Of course Jaehyun won’t tell you the amount of teeth he’s pulled, eyes he’s gouged out, or even tongues he’s cut off because of this. No, never. He always has to be the perfect prince in your eyes, keeping you blind to everything that might scare you away from him.

What really sets him off one day is when the two of you had just come back from riding your horses through the grounds. The stable hand, Shotaro, had given you a hand helping you off of your horse. Instead of Jaehyun being the one to help you, he was forced to watch as another male held your hand delicately and smiled at you softly.

Having had a few previous interactions with the vampiric stable hand, you thought nothing of this. A simple friendly gesture to you was near treason in Jaehyun’s eyes. Only he should be able to touch you like that. How else is he supposed to charm you and show you how much of a gentleman he can be towards you? How he can provide for you, even in the most basic of ways?

Luckily, Maria was waiting to lead you back to the castle in order for your weekly girl talk with the Queen. Using this opportunity as you’re walking away, Jaehyun rounds on Shotaro, already seeing the vampire visibly stiffen at the deathly gaze that is sent his way. In the blink of an eye, Jaehyun is in front of him, grasping the same hand Shotaro used to help you down from the horse.

“Scream, and I will end you,” Jaehyun seethes, not giving a second thought as he crushes Shotaro’s hand in his grip, hearing the bones snapping beneath the pressure. The tears he sees threatening to fall from this pest’s eyes only serve to widen the sadistic smile on Jaehyun’s face. “If you ever touch what’s mine again, your hand won’t be the only part of you I shatter. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes, my Prince,” Shotaro stutters out, fear pouring off of him from every angle.

“Now, you better go get that hand of yours fixed up,” Jaehyun tilts his head slightly, a malicious gleam in his eyes. “We wouldn’t want any bones to set and start healing in the wrong place, now would we?”

“N-no, my Prince,” he shakes his head, clutching his broken hand to his chest as soon as Jaehyun releases his grip.

“Good,” Jaehyun hums, a dark expression taking over his features. “Now, get out of my sight.”

Immediately, Shotaro flees the scene, fearing the Prince might inflict more of his wrath upon him. How you haven’t noticed Jaehyun’s eccentric behaviour yet is a mystery. Then again, he purposely keeps you blind to everything bad about his personality, only willing to show you the good parts. Those good parts which are only reserved for you.

Meanwhile, you have just been softly conversing with Maria as she walks with you back up to the castle from the stables. It’s then that you realize that you’ve been walking alone with her for the past two minutes, causing your brow to furrow slightly.

“Where’s Jaehyun?” You verbalize your thoughts, and just as you’re about to turn around to look for him, you feel his comforting hand on the small of your back.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, I had to check up on something back at the stables,” his smile is dazzling and you can’t help but nod your head in understanding as you smile back at him.

Naturally, your arm slides around his, the two of you walking comfortably back into the castle with Maria at your heels. Soon enough, the two of you enter the throne room, a large smile breaking out onto your features as you greet the Queen. A smile which Jaehyun wants only for himself.

“Are you finally going to join us today, Jaehyunnie?” Cathy asks, standing from her seat and making her way towards the two of you.

“Oh, I’d love that,” you look towards him with a hopeful expression, eyes wide.

“Not today, unfortunately,” the look you’re giving him almost makes him change his mind immediately, the pout causing him to gently cup your cheek in his hand, running his thumb over your skin. “Maybe next time.”

“Alright,” you sigh, slightly disappointed. You love spending time with him, almost as much as he does with you. “You promise?”

“I promise,” he smiles, placing a gentle kiss onto your forehead as he reluctantly steps aways from you, only to see his mother observing him carefully. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Okay,” you respond, eyes following his figure as he turns and walks out of the room, gaze lingering ever so slightly on the doors even after they’ve closed behind him.

“Ready to go, dear?” Cathy’s voice manages to pull you out of your daze, you nodding in the next moment and following her out into the gardens for your weekly girl talk session.

The afternoon passes with the two of you conversing about how you’re liking staying at the palace so far. You tell her honestly that you’re having a wonderful time, and that everyone seems so nice, except for the odd few who seem to avoid you like the plague. She seemed to only hum in response at that, though you’re not quite sure why.

“How’s your family? Have you been writing to them like I suggested?” Cathy sips her drink, looking at you expectantly.

“Oh, I completely forgot,” you meant to send them a letter last week after she had suggested it, but you got caught up in the plans Jaehyun had made in the afternoon that you forgot all about it. Besides, he didn’t quite look too enthused when you mentioned writing to them, but that could just be your faulty memory. “I should write them today, I do miss them greatly.”

“Would you like to visit them?”

“I’d love to,” you smile softly, not believing it to be possible. “But-“

“Excellent! I’ll make arrangements for you to visit them tomorrow,” Cathy interjects, a chipper expression on her face.

“I don’t know how to thank you enough,” at this point you know not to question her decisions.

“Nonsense,” she places her hand gently on top of yours which has been resting on the table between the two of you. “It’s the least I can do. After all, with how much you talk about your family, I can tell they’re important to you.”

“They are,” you confirm, looking over to meet her fond gaze.

“You have a kind heart, (Y/n),” she hums, shifting her gaze to look out over the garden. “Guard it well.”

You can only smile in return, thoughts running wild as to you finally being able to go visit your mother and your sister since you first arrived at the palace two months ago. Finally, you’ll be able to catch up with them and tell them all about what’s been going on in your life. Maybe if you’re lucky, you can introduce Jaehyun to them as well.

That evening, after Jaehyun has bid you a goodnight, he storms into his mother’s chambers. Throwing the doors open, a loud bang reverberates throughout the room, a few passing servants looking on in fear. Sending a dangerous look their way, Jaehyun manages to scare them off before rounding on his mother.

“You promised to let her see her family tomorrow?” He seethes, voice booming as there’s no fear you may overhear. After all, your room is all the way on the opposite side of the castle.

“Oh, Jaehyunnie, what a pleasant surprise for you to drop by to finally come visit your dear mother,” she feigns interest, sparing him a side glance before going back to her nightly routine.

“Spare the small talk, mother,” he spits, brows furrowed in anger. “Why would you do something like this?”

“Are you that obsessed with isolating the poor girl?” Cathy hums, tilting her head questioningly at her son. “She needs to socialize with other people, she can’t just stay around you the whole time.”

“I’m the only one she needs,” his voice is low, a growl threatening to rise up his throat. “The only one she’ll ever need.”

“You do not own her,”

“I know,” he snaps. “I’ve worked too damn hard to let her go now.”

“You have a lot to realize before you should even think about calling her yours,” Cathy states, hearing her son let out the growl that he had been holding back this whole time. She only looks amused by his reaction. “You cannot control her.”

“Everything’s gone according to plan thus far,” he retorts, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Besides a few minor set backs which have been disposed of.”

“Ah, yes,” she muses. “I’d appreciate if you stopped mutilating my servants, let alone killing them.”

“It’s no less than they deserve,” he counters.

“And what does your beloved think about that side of you?”

A brief moment of silence settles around the room, speaking volumes in Cathy’s eyes, until he breaks it.

“She doesn’t know,” Jaehyun watches his mother move around her room carefully, eyes narrowed in distaste. “She never will."

“My child, there will come a day when her eyes are opened to see your true colours,” Cathy warns, pausing in her step to turn and look down upon Jaehyun with her nose upturned. 

“Is that a threat, mother?” His eyes hold a crazed look in them at the mere idea of you finding out the truth. Hell, even the thought of you being taken away from him sets his instincts into overdrive, causing his eyes to bleed red and another growl to escape his throat.

“It’s not a threat if I only speak the truth,” she replies calmly, only causing his anger to flare more than it already has. “Do not expect her to return with you after visiting her family tomorrow. I have been keeping in touch with them regarding this entire situation and they know the lengths you are willing to go to ensnare her. The lengths you have already gone. I don’t know what you told Minho to tell her mother that first day that has her so terrified of the consequences, but her sister, Lori, was it? She seems to have a level head on her shoulders.”

Jaehyun’s blood boils, eyes filling with fury as they remain red, “you’ve been doing what?”

“Warning them about you and devising a plan to free the lovely Miss (Y/n) from your clutches,” her brow quirks as she watches her son fume before her very eyes. 

“I’ll kill them if they so much as even try,” he hisses, chest heaving with every breath as he is thrown into this situation. He’s come this far, there’s no way he’s letting you go now.

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” Cathy’s voice is steady, firm in her command of the room. “Enough blood has already been spilt on your account.”

“Clearly, there hasn’t been enough,” Jaehyun growls, eye flashing once more at his mother.

Rising to her full height, the Queen does not take the underlying threat from her son lightly, “you dare threaten me? Let’s not forget who brought you into this world and who taught you all that you know. Be careful, boy, lest your ambitious lust go to your head.”

“I don’t care who you may be to me, mother,” he seethes, straightening his back and matching her ferocity with his own, “but if you so much as even attempt to take what’s mine away from me, I’ll kill you.”

Without another word between them, Jaehyun is storming out of his mother’s room, leaving her standing with a shocked expression on her face. Never, in all of her long years of putting up with his antics has she ever seen him look this serious, this deadly about something in her life. Her worry only grows for you as she thinks of what he may have in store for you in the future. Going forward, she’ll have to be extra cautious, preparing herself for whatever her son has planned to come.

The next morning, you wake up bright and early, excited to finally go visit your family again after being away from them for so long. You hardly got any sleep at all last night, considering how excited you are. Being able to catch them up to everything going on in your life will be like a dream come true, and besides, you never did get your clothes from your mom that she promised to send to the palace, and you really miss your favourite sweater.

“You’re awfully happy this morning,” Maria comments as she does your hair for the day.

“I am,” you agree. “I haven’t seen my family in months and I can’t wait to introduce them to Jaehyun.”

“That’ll be lovely!” Maria replies, though you catch her grimace in the mirror.

“What is it?” You question, eyes wide with concern.

“Nothing to worry yourself about,” she tells you, shrugging off your inquiries.

“Clearly it’s something,” you counter, to which she sighs.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the Prince will not be joining you right away this morning,” Maria admits, to which your expression drops slightly.

“Oh,”

“But don’t worry! He told me to tell you that he’d be along as soon as he can,” Maria continues, giving your shoulders a quick rub in encouragement. “He just has a few things to tend to first. You know, political duties and such.”

“I understand,” you nod, still visibly disappointed you won’t be arriving at the same time, nor travelling together this morning.

“Come on, dear, let’s get you changed,” she gives your shoulders one final pat before leading you to the closet to finish getting you ready for the day.

After a quick breakfast with the Queen, you’re being ushered into the back of a car to head back home for the day. The whole car ride over feels like an eternity, the scenery not being able to distract you one bit. 

Restless wouldn’t even begin to be able to describe you, your eyes flitting everywhere inside the car, then out the window, only to repeat the same process over and over again. Even your leg hasn’t stopped bouncing in anticipation, fingers toying with the edge of your shirt just to have something to do.

Eventually, after what feels like hours to you, you arrive in a familiar neighbourhood. Once the car is parked, you step out onto a familiar driveway, a smile gracing your features as you breathe in the fresh air. The driver has only been instructed to drop you off since Jaehyun will be by later, accompanied by Minho to take you back to the palace. Once he sees you’re safe, he’s starting the engine once more and pulling out of the driveway. This way you can have some privacy before the Prince arrives. Cathy made sure of that.

Making your way up your front porch, there’s a slight spring to your step, pushing open the front door in the next moment and calling out a cheerful ‘I’m home’! Oh, how good it feels, too.

“(Y/n)?” You hear your mother’s voice sound from the kitchen before her head is peeking out from the doorway, eyes wide with disbelief. “Is that you?”

“Hey, mom,” you greet, kicking off your shoes and running over to embrace her, her arms already spread open in anticipation.

“It’s so good to see you again, sweetie,” she says, hugging you even closer than before, almost as if she’s afraid you’ll disappear in a moment’s notice. “When the queen sent notice last night of you coming to visit this morning, I could hardly believe it.”

“More like you couldn’t believe it,” Lori’s voice sounds from the entranceway behind you, causing a large grin to spread on your face as you turn around to face your younger sister. “Where’s the Prince? I’m surprised you two aren’t joined at the hip.”

You roll you eyes at this, “it’s lovely to see you, too, Lori. I’ve missed you so much.”

She merely sticks her tongue out at you in response, coming over to squish you in a hug in the next second. “Yeah, yeah, I missed you, too.”

Despite her grumbling, you can tell she means what she says, if the tightness of her hug is anything to go by. You can tell she’s also missed teasing you, just as you’ve missed teasing her.

“If you must know,” you say, pulling away from Lori after a long hug. “Jaehyun will be coming by later, he’s just got a few things to attend to first. He sends his regards, though, for the time being.”

“Wow, first name basis with the Prince,” Lori whistles lowly. “That’s a shocker considering I’ve heard that he doesn’t let just anyone call him that.”

“Lori,” your mother shoots a warning look at your sister.

“What? It’s the truth,” she shrugs, only causing you to chuckle.

“Well, we are pretty close,”

“I’ll say,” Lori hums. “Speaking of, has he ever told you why he chose you, or how he even found out about you in the first place?”

“Lori, my word,” your mother shoots her another look, as if to tell her to quit while she’s ahead.

“Mom, it’s okay,” you chuckle, voice nothing but reassuring. “I always knew my little sister was concerned for me, no matter how badly she tries to hide it. As a matter of fact, yes. I have asked him before.”

“And?” She motions with her hand for you to continue.

“He told me that one day while he was out he saw me and overheard the conversation I was having with Jaemin - remember how we always banter back and forth?” Seeing her nod, you continue, “anyways, he apparently appreciated my wit and humour and decided to learn more about me. Well, here we are.”

The smile you send your mother and sister only serves to unnerve them slightly. They’ve been told not to tell you that Jaemin has gone missing since you’ve left for the palace.

“You believe him?” Lori gives you a ‘really’ look, brow quirked in disbelief.

“I have no reason not to,” you shrug.

By now, the two of you have sat down at the kitchen table, your mother busy with preparing lunch for all of you.

“You know how crazy that sounds, though, right?” She goes on to say. “After eavesdropping on your conversation he suddenly wants you to move to the palace so he can make you his wife? That’s very strange.”

“I mean, I was a little weirded out at first, but after he explained himself I felt better,” you say, leaning back slightly in your chair in order to relax. “I trust him.”

At your words, Lori only seems even more suspicious, your mother distracting you long enough for her to hide her concern.

“That’s nice, dear,” she smiles at you. “You must really like him, then.”

You hum in agreement, “I really do.”

“So,” your mother begins, sitting down to join you two at the table as the food heats up on the stove, “tell us everything.”

It takes you about an hour and a half to explain everything that’s happened to you since your arrival at the castle all those weeks ago. The whole while, your mother and sister listen patiently to what you have to say, chiming in here and there with little comments of their own. Your mother seems happy for you, but you can tell your sister isn’t all that convinced. Her comment about the Prince not being everything he seems to be certainly is enough to rub you the wrong way, putting a slight damper on your mood the longer you spend at home.

“All I’m just saying is that he seems too nice, from what you’re telling me,” her eyes hold the same suspicion you can hear clearly in her voice.

“He’s given me no reason to suspect otherwise,” you counter, a slight furrow to your brows.

“Yet he’s never once suggested visiting us, and when you do, he’s nowhere to be found,” Lori quirks a brow at you.

“It’s not his fault he has duties to attend to,” you defend him, upset that your sister doesn’t seem nearly as happy for you as you thought she’d be.

“Does he always have ‘duties’ to attend to when there’s something you want to do?” A knowing look is sent your way, as if she already knows how you’re going to answer. “If you’re always alone there, then why don’t you just come home? It sounds to me like you’d be better off that way, anyways.”

“No!” You immediately counter, crossing your arms in front of your chest, hurt that your own sister would even suggest something like this. “That’s not the case. He’s been nothing but caring and respectful towards me since I got there. I don’t expect him to wait on me hand and foot all the goddamn time. It’s nice having some space every once in a while, too.” You can tell you’ve momentarily stunned her with your answer as she looks at you, dumbfounded. Taking this opportunity, you continue, “if all you’re going to do is shit on my happiness, then I won’t bother to come home at all. I care about him and I know he cares about me, and all you’re doing is making your jealousy clear. I don’t want to move back home, I want to stay with him. I-“ you swallow, gathering your courage to utter your next words, “I’m in love with him.”

A soft gasp leaves your mother’s lips, “sweetie.”

“What?” You turn your attention to look at her, noticing how she’s already staring at you with an unreadable expression on her face, your sister sitting frozen in her spot at your admission.

“You love him,” comes your sister’s voice. Not a question, but a mere statement of facts, of which causes you to gape slightly before closing your mouth and steadying yourself. You let out a breath that you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

“I do,” you confirm, staring both women down as they stare back at you. Your mother with a dumbfounded expression, your sister with a stern gaze that feels as if it’s boring into your soul.

A moment of silence passes over the three of you as they let your confession sink in, only interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

“I’ll get it,” your mother sighs, heading towards the front door to see who it could be.

“He has you wrapped around his finger, doesn’t he?” Lori sighs, causing whatever last thread of patience you had to snap at her remark.

Your snappy retort dies in your throat as soon as you hear a familiar masculine voice coming from the front door, Jaehyun politely introducing himself to your mother after being invited inside.

“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear,” Lori mutters, shaking her head.

In an instant, you’re standing, the scraping of your chair against the floor enough to cause Lori to look up at you in surprise at the sudden action. You say nothing as you head out of the kitchen and towards the front door, Lori following shortly afterwards with a frown prominent on her face.

To everyone’s surprise, you start to slip on your shoes. Out of the corner of your eyes, you see Minho shoot you a worried look while your mother and sister share a glance. However, none look as concerned as Jaehyun does right now.

“Is everything alright?” He asks lowly, hand finding purchase on your lower back as you right yourself after fixing your one shoe.

“Fine,” you respond shortly, to the surprise of everyone in the room. “Thanks for lunch, mom. It was really nice seeing you again.”

You move over to give her a brief hug. It takes her a moment to return it, unsure of what exactly has transpired in the past minute to have you rushing out of the door so soon. You seemed so excited for them to meet the Prince earlier, so this only serves to increase her worry.

“Of course, dear,” she answers. “Is everything okay?”

You pull away, giving her a tight smile, “just a bad headache, is all.”

“Are you sure you don’t just want to lie down for a bit? You just got here,” she frowns, worry evident on her features along with a hint of what looks like sadness.

“I’m sure,” you reply, sending her a weak smile in return. 

One thing you’ve always been horrible at is hiding your emotions. Anyone can read them clear as day on your face, especially right now. That’s one thing Jaehyun has learned about you during your stay at the palace, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t find out what happened. For now, he’ll simply go along with your wishes, playing the part of the concerned lover. Good thing, too, otherwise if a moment longer had passed, he probably would have torn Lori’s head from her shoulders for causing you such distress.

Even though he’s only just entered the house, he’s been outside far longer than any of you have suspected. Of course he overheard what the three of you had been talking about, and your family’s attitudes certainly rubbed him the wrong way. He knows his own mother definitely has something to do with the way Lori is acting. Thank fuck she won’t be a problem any more.

The only good thing his mind has latched onto at the moment is your loving confession. He has to remind himself to stay in control of his emotions for the time being, lest he want his plans to be ruined. After all, things are going far better than he could have ever hoped on this end.

“Okay, sweetie, if you’re sure,” even though she doesn’t look convinced, she doesn’t push the issue. “Come and visit again soon!”

“We will,” you give her another small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

Giving one final nod to your mother, you hardly even spare Lori a final glance as you bid her farewell, the both of them waving goodbye to you from the front porch. Once seated in the backseat of the car beside Jaehyun, you let out a sigh.

“Is everything okay, Princess?” His voice holds nothing but concern as he motions for Minho to raise the privacy screen.

You finally meet his gaze, and he curses whoever was the one to cause you pain, “honestly, not really.”

He shifts closer, placing a comforting hand on your knee, “did you want to talk about it?”

A few moments pass by in silence as you attempt to calm yourself down. Taking a deep breath, you meet his gaze once more.

“She called you a devil,” he inhales sharply at your words, feigning shock. “And I know how much you hate that word, let alone being called such a thing. I just couldn’t sit there and listen to any more of Lori’s bullshit slander of you.”

“I see,” he says, lips tugging downwards in a frown. On the inside though, he’s surprised that you even remembered him telling you that offhandedly one of the first times you went horseback riding together. It warms his heart that you would remember a detail like that of himself. Though, this only serves to confirm to him even further that you’re perfect for each other.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize for your family’s behaviour. “I just couldn’t stand how she was talking about you, or the fact that I felt like they were invalidating my feelings.”

“It’s not your fault,” he assures you, shifting so that his hand can now gently stroke your back as you lean forward to rest your elbows on your knees.

“I was looking forward to you meeting them, too,” you pout, disappointment clear in your voice. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s alright, Darling,” he sends you a reassuring smile. “If I’m being completely honest, I’m kind of glad we left early. I don’t think I would have had the heart to be proper company to your loved ones.”

This time, it’s your turn to look at him in concern, “is everything okay?”

“Not really,” he shoots you a weak smile, his facade cracking just as he had planned from the moment you decided to leave your house as soon as he had arrived. “No.”

“What’s wrong?” You cup his cheek tenderly, and he leans into your touch, briefly closing his eyes as he revels in the way your skin feels against his, though you take it as him seeking comfort for whatever it is he’s about to tell you.

“It’s my mother,” he pauses, swallowing a fake lump in his throat. “She’s been murdered.”

“Oh my god,” a gasp escapes your lips, a hand coming up to cover your mouth in shock.

“I was only just informed minutes before I arrived at your house,”

“Oh, Jaehyun,” your eyes hold nothing but sorrow as you embrace him, “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re doing an awful lot of apologizing today for things that aren’t your fault,” he comments, wrapping his arms securely around your waist as he pulls you closer into his chest.

“Still,” you whisper into his neck, “I’m sorry for your loss. Your mother was a wonderful person.”

A hum is all you receive in response, his grip tightening ever so subtly around you as he feels you start to shake slightly. He knew the two of you were close, but he wasn’t expecting you to shed actual tears when you learnt his mother had passed. Perhaps it’s the combination of emotions from your family mixed with this sudden news that has you curled up in his arms, seeking his comfort as much as you are comforting him. Either way, he’ll use this to his advantage, loving the feeling of having you pressed so close to him, clinging onto him like he’s the only one you’ll ever need.

Quietly, he shushes you, telling you that it’ll be alright. You’re quite surprised at how well he’s taking all of this, though you can tell he’s glad for the comfort you provide him during this time. However, what you fail to see is Jaehyun glancing briefly towards the window, eyes flashing as he catches his reflection in the glass. A look of smug content resides on his features as he continues to stroke your back in comforting circles.

You manage to fall asleep about halfway through the car ride back to the castle. Your head is resting on Jaehyun’s lap as he gently strokes his hand over your hair. A smile pulls at his lips when he hears you hum in content, shifting yourself closer to him in response.

Growing up the way he did, getting everything he ever wanted or could ever ask for, and hardly ever receiving punishments for his actions, he’s used to others shouting and crying about how unfair he can be. The amount of people he’s seen beg for their life with tears in their eyes has never made him blink one time. However, seeing you this upset, with tears in your eyes has made him promise himself to never see you cry again. You’re the only person in this universe he cannot stand to see in pain, and he will do anything and everything in his power to make sure that this never happens again. You deserve nothing but happiness, of which he knows only he can give you.

The news of the Queen’s death spreads throughout the nation like wildfire. Many demand answers as to how something like this could have happened, as well as who would do such a thing. Luckily, Jaehyun had prepared for this. A few servants, both human and vampire alike, that had tested his patience for far too long took the fall, information leaking that the murder was an inside job long planned out by said servants.

Jaehyun played his part well, condemning the criminals for their vile acts and taking his precious mother away from him, as well as the precious matriarch away from the citizens. The best part is that you were there the whole time comforting him and making sure he was okay. 

Those were some of the best days for him, being able to stay by your side nearly twenty-four seven, being able to hold you in his arms as you slept beside him. Fuck, he can never get enough of you: your soft skin beneath his fingertips, the way your body feels pressed against his own, the way you stood by him and offered him condolence when he needed it, and especially the way you smell. There were a few times he nearly went feral during the night due to your scent spiking with arousal. He could tell you were having some pretty nice dreams about him, for the one time you moaned his name in your sleep, nearly driving him insane.

He only wishes he had done this sooner, maybe then your sister wouldn’t be even more suspicious towards him. The letters from her only seemed to increase after his mother’s death, but he has no time for them, nor does he even want to entertain them. Maybe then he can finally have you all to himself without worrying about what your stupid brat of a younger sister might do to take you away from him. No matter, he’ll make sure to dispose of her soon, if she doesn’t stay in line.

Approximately two weeks after his mother’s funeral, Jaehyun takes you on a small picnic beneath the willow tree that overlooks the gardens. The place is secluded enough that you know you won’t be disturbed. After all, after the commotion of the past few weeks, it’s nice to just get away for a while, especially with just the two of you.

Currently, his head is resting in your lap, the two of you finally able to relax and enjoy each other’s company without interruptions. Glancing down, Jaehyun catches your gaze.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look today yet?” He smiles softly up at you as he watches the evening sun kiss your skin.

“Hmm,” you pretend to ponder his question, gazing out over the gardens as you teasingly tap your chin. “I don’t think you have.”

“It’s a shame, then,” he clicks his tongue, shaking his head slightly. “All the stars in both heaven and on earth could never compare to your beauty.”

The way he looks at you, like you’re his entire world, sets your heart racing in your chest. You bite your lip, looking away bashfully.

Sitting up, he lets out a small chuckle at your reaction. How can you be so cute?

“Don’t hide that pretty face from me, Darling,” cupping your chin gently in his hand, he turns your head to face him, noticing how you avert your gaze slightly in embarrassment. Pride swells in his chest as he knows only he can get a reaction like this out of you. Only he can make you feel this way. “From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one for me.”

“Jae,” the whisper of his name from your lips sends a shiver down his spine.

“Getting to know you over these past few months has only confirmed my first thought I had of you,” he tells you, stroking his thumb slowly over your bottom lip as you watch him carefully.

“Oh?” Your gaze becomes hooded as you watch him, his own eyes focussed on the way his thumb is caressing your lip. “What might that be?”

“You’re perfect,” his voice is low, seductive, as he moves his hand to the back of your neck, thumb now stroking the nape.

“You must not have met many good people, then,” you lightly joke, the corner of your lip twitching upwards as your eyes flick to his lips, noticing how the space between the two of you grows ever smaller by the second.

“No,” he replies softly, “I haven’t.”

Your hand comes up to cup the side of his face, thumb rubbing his cheek tenderly as the two of you continue to stare into each other’s eyes. A moment of silence passes between the two of you before Jaehyun is breaking it.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I thought you’d never ask,”

You barely have time to finish your words when his lips are on yours, the hand he has placed on the back of your neck pulling you in closer. His touch is soft, lips delicate over your own, as if you’re the finest piece of glass that needs to be handled with the utmost care. Your eyes flutter shut.

This tender moment is enough to steal your breath away, something that Jaehyun never fails to do when you’re alone with him. How you got him of all people to fall for you is still a wonder, of which everyday you’re thankful for. Ever since he’s come into your life, you’ve never been happier. Each day with him is another where he makes you feel special. He cherishes you, just as you have come to cherish him, but more than all of that, he makes you feel loved.

Pulling away, he rests his forehead on yours, the hand on the back of your neck holding you in place as your eyes open to see him already gazing at you fondly.

“Like I said,” he breathes. “Perfect.”

“I could say the same about you,” you hum, pecking his lips once more and causing him to smile.

He hums back, content with how this evening is going so far, and with one final lingering kiss to your lips, he pulls away from you, albeit a bit reluctantly. If he’s honest with himself, he’s a bit nervous. The question he’s been meaning to ask you this entire evening sits at the tip of his tongue, unwilling to actually be formed into the proper words.

“I love you,” this is not the first time he’s told you this, but it still sets your heart aflutter. Maybe this time will be the time you say it back.

“I know,” you hum, lips tugging upwards as your eyes reflect the same love and want shining in his own.

“Even though we haven’t know each other all that long, no one makes me feel the way that you do,” he begins, again, somewhat nervously. You take his one hand into yours, letting him know he can take all the time he needs to in order to form the words he wants to say to you. “You mean the world to me, and I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life. I know it sounds ridiculous, but my life changed the day you stepped through those palace doors, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. You’ve changed my life for the better; you make me want to be a better man.”

“Jaehyun,” his name is but a whisper on your lips as he pulls out a ring from his pocket.

“Will you do me the honour of becoming mine?” He asks, gaze locking on yours as your hands come up to cover your mouth in shock. 

All you can do at the moment is nod your head, a large smile breaking out onto your face before it morphs into a slight smirk as he slides the ring on your finger. “Does this mean I get to call you mine?”

“You can call me whatever you’d like,” he grins, eyes hooded as he pulls you onto his lap to admire the ring now glinting on your finger. “My perfect bride.”

Your giggle is like music to his ears as he pulls you in for another kiss. This one is more heated, full of passion and longing with an undertone of a promise of what is still yet to come. 

Jaehyun could not be happier than he is in this moment with you. Everything has gone according to plan, and soon, he’ll get to call you his wife. Not that you would have had a choice in the matter, even if you had denied him. Now, you’re his, indefinitely, and nothing can change that. Now, he’s never letting you go.

As the sun begins to set in the distance, it’s your turn to rest your head on his thigh. He’s currently feeding you some red grapes, of which he’s been told are your favourite.

“What else we got?” You ask after a having a few more grapes.

“Hmm, let’s see,” he digs through the basket, pulling out and listing the different food options. “Why, do you not like the grapes?”

“I do, don’t get me wrong,” you smile reassuringly at him. “I’m just not the biggest fan of red grapes.”

“I thought they were your favourite,” Jaehyun replies, a small frown pulling at his features. Who was it again that told him that red grapes were your favourite? Ah, that’s right, Ben. If he had known they weren’t your favourite he would have never even dreamed of having them packed for you.

“Nah,” you scrunch your nose slightly while shaking your head. Jaehyun would think it’s cute were not for the situation he finds himself in. “Green grapes are where it’s at.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiles, though you don’t registered how it looks slightly forced.

Shooting him a smile back, the two of you turn your attention back to the sunset before you, making small comments here and there about the way the light reflects off of the surrounding areas. You feel completely at peace. Jaehyun on the other hand, is suffering from inner turmoil at this mistake. Something that is so small could have meant a world of difference to you, and the last thing he wants is to screw things up this far into your relationship. How is he supposed to be the perfect lover if he can’t even get your favourite foods correct?

The moment he bids you a goodnight and your door shuts behind him that evening, he’s speeding to the kitchen. The staff, whom had been finishing up for the day are startled by his sudden appearance. Immediately, they bow in respect, a few of the cook’s nerves spiking in fear that what they had prepared this evening did not please him.

“Where’s Ben?” His voice booms throughout the room, eyes deadly as they scan the area for the aforementioned man. 

“He’s just gone to dispose of the trash, Your Highness,” one of the cooks tells him.

“How fitting,” he muses, already thumbing the coin in his pocket which he had grabbed from the cellar on the way here.

The side door to the kitchen creaks slightly when it opens, a lanky man walking through in the next moment. Sensing the tension in the kitchen, he freezes, the door falling shut behind him. Noticing Jaehyun standing at the opposite end of the counter, he immediately bows.

“Your Highness,” 

“Red grapes, huh, Ben?” At Jaehyun’s words, Ben stiffens, already knowing something must have gone wrong for the Prince to be in the kitchen this late.

The rest of the staff share brief glances towards one another in confusion as they watch the scene before them play out. None are willing enough to move for fear of the Prince’s wrath.

“Do you know what this is?” Though his voice is calm, Jaehyun is far from it, only able to maintain his composure due to the fear radiating off of everyone in this room. He loves knowing the power he holds over each one of their insignificant little lives.

Ben eyes the coin now poised in Jaehyun’s hand warily, the metal glinting ever so slightly in the light of the kitchen.

“A coin, Your Highness,” Ben answers as Jaehyun looks at him expectantly, obviously wanting more than just that as his answer. “The ones which you use to pay us.”

“Very good,” he feigns amusement, eyes narrowing harshly in the next moment. “Now tell me, what’s the point in paying you when you provide me with the wrong information?”

Ben looks stunned momentarily, “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.

“Red grapes, Ben,” Jaehyun tuts. “Red. Grapes.”

It seems as if something clicks in his mind, “oh, yes, (Y/n)’s fav-“

“You dare speak her name in my presence?” Jaehyun’s voice booms, a few of the younger staff now visibly shaking in fear at his outburst. “Do not taint my love’s name with your tongue.”

“My apologies-“

“Silence, you scum,” he hisses between clenched teeth. Jaehyun’s anger currently knows no bounds, only serving to worsen the longer he has to deal with this situation. Taking a breath, he seems to visibly calm down slightly before speaking once more. “Did you know, Ben, that she prefers green grapes over red ones?”

It is then that Ben realizes his mistake. The information he had gathered proving insufficient and false. He starts to shake, unsure of what is to become of him now.

“I’m sorry, my Prince, it will not happen again,”

“You’re right,” Jaehyun smirks. “It won’t. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an engagement party to plan,” he turns to leave the kitchen, tossing the coin he’s holding in his hand in the air once before catching it between his fingers. “Oh, and somebody clean this mess up.”

In the blink of an eye, Jaehyun has flung the coin through Ben’s head, a dull thunk being the only sound heard as his now lifeless body falls to the floor. The whole kitchen remains silent, no one daring to even move a single muscle until Jaehyun has turned the corner, nothing but the coin embedded in the wall serving as a reminder of his presence mere moments ago.

The following week passes by in a blur to you, the whole castle bustling from the news of your confirmed engagement to the Prince. Now, there is cause for celebration instead of remaining in the period of mourning that had plagued the nation previously. You only wish his mother was still here to see it all.

You’ve planned to host an engagement party this coming Friday evening, and you can hardly wait. The two of you have been discussing plans for the event, and you don’t think you’ve smiled brighter than you have been these past few days. Jaehyun has been with you every step of the way, sharing in your excitement at the date grows near.

All too soon, the night of the party arrives and you’re dressed in the finest materials you’ve ever worn. Quite a few diplomats and vampires from surrounding kingdoms are coming to wish you a congratulations on your engagement to the Prince, and to say you’re nervous would be an understatement. You just hope you don’t make a fool of yourself in front of so many important people.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, cannot wait to show you off. Finally, he gets to profess his love for you in front of so many others, finally letting everyone know that you’re his and his alone. If anyone so much as dares to take you away from him, he’s prepared to do whatever it takes to keep you and make sure you never leave his side. Nothing, in all of the world, could tear the two of you apart.

Luckily, the evening goes by without a hitch, passing by much quicker than either of you two expect. Though, you have to say, you’re glad. With the way he’s been looking at you all night, the end of the party could not have come sooner.

Making your way back to your room, you think back to the events of the evening. A smile tugs at your lips as you recall the way the two of you danced, the way he held you close in his arms and made you feel loved. You couldn’t ask for a better man to have come to sweep you off of your feet. You only hope that the night doesn’t end here, and from the dark look you still see swimming in his eyes, you have a feeling that it’s only just begun.

With the way Jaehyun has been looking at you this entire evening, you swear he wants to eat you whole. His eyes are dark, a smirk on his lips as he backs you into the wall of your room, hands finding purchase on your hips as he leans into your neck, inhaling deeply.

“Fuck, you smell so good,” he breathes, eyes fluttering closed in bliss as he allows your scent to cloud his mind. A growl escapes him, finally allowing himself to indulge his fantasies, revelling in everything you. “All mine.”

You cannot deny the way your heart positively flutters at his words, and from the way his grip tightens, you can tell he is enjoying each and every one of your reactions. After weeks of tensions rising, interrupted moments and longing glances sent each other’s way, you know what you want, and you what you want, is him. Badly. 

“I hope you don’t mind, Princess,” his voice is low, nose ghosting over the skin of your neck until his lips come to rest right beside your ear, “but tonight,” he hisses as you pull him closer, “tonight, I’m going to make you mine.”

Bringing his lips to yours, he steals a kiss, loving the way you hum approvingly in response. He loves all the reactions you’re giving him, he thinks they’re so cute. The way your heart is racing in your chest, excitement rolling off of you in waves, sets his own dead heart racing. He can smell your arousal building, a fact which only makes his chest swell, a growl of approval building from deep within.

He could get lost in you. The feeling of your lips on his, your scent, your touch. Everything about you drives him wild, and tonight, he finally gets to show you exactly what you mean to him. He’ll treat you like the royalty you are; whom you are meant to be.

Breaking the kiss, he leans back slightly to rest his forehead on yours, staring deeply into your eyes. You can see the love he has for you shining in them, along with the lust and desire swirling within his irises.

“I’m addicted to you,” voice nothing but a whisper, he cups your cheeks in his hands, “I can never get enough.”

“Then don’t,” your soft reply has his eyes widening slightly. “Because I don’t think I could ever love another as much as I love you.”

He swears his dead heart has once again stopped beating in his chest as he lets your words sink in. You love him. You finally told him that you love him.

A smile breaks out onto his face as he claims your lips with his own. You love him, and that’s all he’s ever wanted. Everything he could have ever asked for has just been granted to him. You’ve fulfilled his every wish, and tonight, he’s going to finally make you his, in every meaning of the word. Tonight, you’re his Queen, and his alone.

“Fuck, you don’t know how happy you’ve just made me, hearing you say that,” he says against your lips, needing to feel every inch of your skin beneath him soon, or he might just go crazy. Your giggle is music to his ears as he litters your face with kisses, “I love you.” He hums contently. “My Queen.”

Your breath hitches as you hear him call you that for the first time. You cannot deny the way your stomach clenches at hearing him call you that, and from the slight upturn of his lips, you know he heard your reaction loud and clear.

Feeling a surge of confidence wash over you, you look into his eyes once more, smirk dancing across your own lips. 

“Then fulfill your promise and make me yours,” you purr. “My King.”

A shiver runs down his spine at your words, and he cannot help the snarl that escapes him, “with pleasure.”

In the blink of an eye, he has you pinned on the bed, hovering over top of you as he trails his lips over the skin of your neck. Pinning your hands at the side of your head by your wrists, he takes this opportunity to start sucking marks into your skin, biting down occasionally. Although he doesn’t let his fangs out yet, he makes sure to leave his marks. He wants everyone in the kingdom to know that you’re his, that he’s finally claimed you for all to see.

The sound of tearing fabric registers in your mind, and you glance down to see that Jaehyun has torn both your dress and his shirt from this evening from your bodies, eyes drinking in every curve of your figure beneath him. His hands come up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples as they harden from his touch.

“Beautiful,” he hums.

Giving your chest a slight squeeze, he emphasizes his approval, only serving to make you become bashful. In the next moment, you attempt to cover yourself with your arms, but he’s quicker. Grabbing your wrists, he pins them beside your head once more.

“Ah-ah,” he tuts, a gleam to his eyes, “don’t you dare hide from me.”

Before you can say anything in response, his lips are on yours as he successfully steals your breath away for the nth time that night. Ever so slowly, he parts from you, trailing kisses down your neck and to your chest, where his hands have returned to cupping your breasts gently. 

A shiver runs down your spine once you feel him take one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking lightly as his tongue flicks over the pert bud. His opposite hand works at the other, making sure neither goes untouched. Your satisfied hum is all he needs to hear to know you’re enjoying yourself so far. Smirking against your skin, he trails kisses from one breast to the other as he takes his time to make sure each gets the attention you deserve. By the time he’s done with you, you’ll be screaming his name in ecstasy all night long.

A hand in his hair catches his attention as you guide his head back up to yours, lips meeting in a heated kiss. He can never get enough of you: your taste, your touch, your everything, and he’ll take everything you’re willing to give him, and then some.

Slowly, he grinds himself into you, your legs parting naturally for him to fit between them. The gasp you let out when you feel his hard cock rubbing against your core is music to his ears.

“Feel that, baby?” He hums, nuzzling his nose against your neck and scenting you once more. “That’s all because of you. You have no idea what you do to me.”

The breathless whisper of his name you let out sends a shiver of pleasure down his spine. His one hand grips your thigh, pulling you against him as your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him in to kiss you again as he continues to grind himself into you.

Breaking away, he nips at the skin of your neck, trailing kisses down your body. The whole time, he mumbles against your skin about how he just needs to taste you, your panties being ripped off of your body not even a second later.

The full force of the scent of your arousal hits him as he settles between your legs, a pleased growl echoing from within his chest. He can already tell his eyes have bled red, your slight gasp confirming it when you meet his gaze.

Trailing kisses up your thighs, he notices how your chest rises and falls with each breath in anticipation. A smirk dances at his lips as he sees you close your eyes momentarily the closer to your entrance his mouth gets. 

Testing the waters, he licks a tentative strip up your core, watching your every reaction and drinking it in. Fuck, if you aren’t the best thing he’s ever tasted in his life, and he’s sure to let you know.

At his words, you cover your face in slight embarrassment, feeling every breath he makes hit your core and send little jolts throughout your entire body. From the chuckle you hear him let out, he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“No, no, no, none of that,” he reaches up and pulls your arm down so you’re no longer covering your face. You meet his gaze once more, and your heart nearly stops at the carnal hunger you can see shining within them. “I want you to watch me as I devour you.”

A moan slips passed your lips as you watch him bring a hand up to spread your lower lips, tongue slowly dragging through your folds all the while he stares deeply into your eyes. Every sound you make, every reaction, is his tonight, and his alone.

Wrapping his lips around your clit, he sucks a few times before flicking the sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue. He alternates between this and bringing his tongue down to circle your entrance before thrusting it in to collect your juices, massaging your inner walls at the same time. Like hell he’s going to let anything go to waste, not after he’s waited this long to finally have you all to himself.

Your hips start to move in time with his tongue, and he lets out a snarl as your hand comes to tangle in his hair, only serving to pull him closer into you. His tongue continues to work you up in every way he knows how, wanting you to know that only he can please you like this. Only he can make you feel this good.

His eyes never leave yours the whole time, even when he starts to pick up the pace. Every twitch of your inner walls lets him know he’s doing something right, taking the opportunity to slide a finger in using his free hand. Now, he focusses his tongue on your clit, licking and sucking as his finger massages your inner walls. The way you’re clenching around him only makes him that much more eager to finally be inside you after all this time.

By now, multiple curses and moans of his name have slipped past your lips, whines only serving to becoming louder as he adds a second finger. Each movement he makes is precise, and you can feel the pressure building with each moment that passes by. With each flick of his tongue, you swear it will be the push you need to fall over the edge, but he purposely slows his movements, wanting to keep you on the brink for as long as possible and prolong your pleasure. By the time he adds a third finger, you feel as if you’re just about ready to fall apart.

“That’s it, darling,” he coaxes, moving his fingers along your inner walls in time with each flick of his tongue, the pressure within you about to snap. “Let yourself go.”

His words are all you need to hear in order to feel yourself falling over the edge, your orgasm crashing into you as a scream of his name tears from your throat. A smirk on his lips is the first thing you see once your vision clears, chest heaving with each breath you take as he laps up every last drop of your essence with his tongue.

“Such a good girl for me,” he hums, removing his fingers in order to crawl up your body and place them at your lips. “Suck.”

Immediately, you part your lips, taking his fingers into your mouth and tasting yourself on them. A moan bubbles in your throat as your tongue swirls around his digits, echoed only by his own groan as he sees the blissful expression on your features.

Taking his fingers out of your mouth, he kisses you once more, pulling your body impossibly closer to his own. He needs to feel every inch of you pressed against him, not wanting to leave any part of your body unexplored this evening.

“Jaehyun,” his name falling from your lips is one of the best sounds he’s ever heard in his life, and he could never tire of it. “Please, I need you.”

Those words are all it takes for him to be ripping off his pants and lining himself up with your entrance. He can’t help but tease you a bit, dipping the head of his cock into your folds to collect your wetness before pulling back out again just to hear you whine. You’re so cute when you’re needy for him.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make you feel so good,” his voice is a low drawl that sounds right beside your ear.

Your arms are already wrapped around his torso, nails digging into the skin of his back as you feel the need to bring him closer. The next thing you hear is him let out a small chuckle, feeling him beginning to stretch you out in the next second as he begins to push into you.

Your mouth falls open in a soundless gasp as you feel him stretching you out. His own breath falters as he feels your walls pulsing around him, the soft warmth of your flesh feeling as if it were made for him. Considering the fact that you two fit perfectly together, he swears that’s the case.

He has to remind himself not to move before you’re okay, every instinct in his body screaming at him to ravish you as soon as he’s seated in you fully. However, he’s in no rush tonight, wanting to take his time in order to make the sweetest love to your body. Something only he can do.

As soon as he sees you nod, he’s resting his forehead against yours as he pulls out slightly and gives a shallow thrust to start. His movements are slow, precise, each movement of his hips a sensual grind to make you feel every inch of him buried within you.

“I fucking love you, you know that?” His voice is rough, strained as he attempts to control himself for the time being. This is your first time together, and he wants to make sure it’s special for the both of you, something neither of you will forget. 

You let out a gasp at a particularly sharp thrust, “I love you.”

This is all he could have ever wanted, and more, as he begins to pick up his pace. His lips meet yours once more in a searing kiss, all of his passion, love, lust, and want for you being conveyed wordlessly through every movement he makes.

When his lips aren’t on yours, they’re sucking marks into the skin of your neck, teeth nipping at the skin shortly after. As he increases his pace, his one hand comes up to grab yours, fingers intertwining as the other grips your waist, holding you to him as close as possible. The way your free hand drags down his back, nails biting into his skin lets him know he’s doing all the right things. Your legs wrapping around his waist only serve to pull him that much closer into you, a pleased rumble escaping his chest.

Shifting slightly, he adjusts the angle he’s hitting you at, hearing your sharp intake of breath as he hits a specific spot inside you.

“Fuck, my King, right there,” your voice is desperate as it comes out, eyes closing in bliss as your head is thrown back.

The snarl that tears from his throat is feral, your words snapping any last bits of sanity he had left in his body as his hips snap into yours. 

“That’s it, Darling,” he growls, eyes bleeding red once more as he takes in the beautiful expressions you’re making for him, “let your King take care of his Queen.”

The hitch in your breath at his own words causes a tightening in his abdomen, and he knows he’s getting close. He has to remind himself that you’re still only human as his grip tightens on your hand and waist, not wanting to hurt you, but needing you to feel just how desperate he is for you. Everything about you drives him insane, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t treat you like the Queen you are.

With each thrust, he can feel your walls twitching around him, signalling that you’re getting closer to your second release of the night. Bringing his one hand down from your waist, he uses his thumb to circle your clit, feeling your whole body shudder beneath him as you near the edge.

“Come on, my Queen,” his chest rumbles in content each time he says those words, voice dangerously low. “Come with me. Come for your King.”

The way his thumb flicks at your clit, combined with his words and the angle he’s hitting inside of you is enough to push you over the edge for the second time that night. Seeing you shake beneath him in ecstasy, combined with the sinful way you’re moaning his name has him following shortly after, a loud cry of your own name escaping his lips.

Lazily thrusting into you a few more times as you both come down from your highs, he makes sure you’re okay before pulling out of you. In the blink of an eye, he’s got a damp washcloth ready in his hand, wiping you down gently while whispering soft praises in your ear, telling you how good you are for him, and how much he loves you. You can only smile softly in return, finally able to catch your breath once he returns from disposing of the washcloth.

Crawling into the bed, he tucks you both under the covers, pulling you close into his chest in the next moment. His hand strokes over your back gently as he places a tender kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” he whispers. “My Queen.”

“And I love you,” you hum. “My King.”

Silence settles over the two of you as you each take comfort in the other’s embrace. Eventually, sleep overtakes you, leaving Jaehyun to watch over your sleeping figure with a smile on his face.

“Always and forever,” he whispers, allowing his eyes to close and his whole body to relax as he succumbs to his own darkness.

Dawn comes and Jaehyun manages to wake before you do, appreciating the way the morning light cascades over your naked form, painting you in golden hues for him to adore. His eyes trail over your back, tracing the curve of your spine as he remembers the events of last night. Licking his lips, he inhales the scents of the morning deeply, positively growling at the way you’re now covered in his scent.

As it should be. As it will always be. From this point onwards, you’re his and he’s yours, and last night serves as a confirmation of that fact. Now, you’ve given yourselves to each other, and all that’s left to do is set the date for the wedding.

A few minutes pass by with Jaehyun simply admiring you. Very lightly he traces his hand over your back, loving the way you shiver underneath his fingertips, for it only makes him recall how you were trembling beneath him in bliss merely hours before. He could stay like this with you forever, but unfortunately, he needs to attend to some final arrangements for the royal announcement of your wedding ceremony.

Letting out a small sigh, disappointed he has to leave you for the time being, he slides out of bed. The glint of the ring on your left hand in the morning light catches his gaze, only causing a small smile to form at his lips. Last night could not have been more perfect.

Moving as silently as he can so as not to disturb you, he exits your room.

It takes him longer than he would have liked to get ready that morning, his movements feeling a bit sluggish the more he has to move around. It’s almost as if his senses have dulled slightly for the time being, for his hearing isn’t as sharp as it usually is, nor his sense of smell. Perhaps these are simply side effects of his mood, for he knows when he’s overcome with emotions he can never think straight, let alone react in an orderly manner.

Making his way through the castle, he finally enters the throne room, having requested to meet Minho there to discuss everything that still needs to be done for the upcoming ceremonies. However, what he isn’t expecting to see is another person standing with their arms crossed in front of their chest beside a very nervous looking Minho.

“What is the meaning of this?” Jaehyun’s voice practically booms across the room, demanding their attention.

“Your Highness, I’ve been attempting to escort Miss Lori out of the castle and back to her home, but she simply will not go until she speaks with her older sister,” Minho explains, words coming out rushed as he looks towards Jaehyun frantically.

“Is there anything I can help you with? Your sister is currently still resting in her chambers,” Jaehyun continues to play the nice card. He’s gotten this far despite not needing anyone’s approval, but that still doesn’t mean he won’t try for you.

“Cut the bullshit, you’re not fooling me,” Lori narrows her eyes at him, only causing Jaehyun to raise his brows amusedly.

“Is there a reason that you’ve come to talk with your sister then?” Jaehyun asks, already bored with this conversation, yet still feigning interest and concern. Again, he’d do anything for you, even if it means something as trivial as this.

“I’ve come to collect my sister and take her back home,” Lori answers. “Away from you.”

Jaehyun’s expression falls, immediately darkening at the threat apparent in her voice, “I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in here.”

“No, I don’t think you understand your situation,” Lori counters, causing Minho to send her a look filled with nothing but distress. “I’ve seen through your little ‘nice guy’ act long ago thanks to your mother, and I’ve finally come to save my sister from whatever you plan to do to her. She’ll listen to me this time, she always has. I’m taking my sister back home with me, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

The confidence in which she says those words irritate Jaehyun to no end. Though, he supposes he finds this situation rather ironic, causing him to let out a few laughs in disbelief. How dare Lori threaten him of all people. Like she could ever do anything to tear the two of you apart now, considering what occurred last night. After all, the two of you are to be bonded for life.

“You came all this way to threaten me? Me, of all people?” He chuckles maliciously, shaking his head in disbelief. “You think I’m just going to let you waltz in here and steal what rightfully belongs to me? That I’d even let you near what’s mine?”

“Your threats don’t scare me, I know you won’t do anything to me,” Lori raises her chin in the air in defiance, a smug look resting on her face. Clearly the letters his mother had sent her are still giving her a false confidence on this matter.

In a flash, he’s in front of her, holding her in the air by her neck. The hold his hand has around her throat is firm enough for it to be a threat, but not hard enough to completely block her airway just yet. “You underestimate the lengths I am willing to go to keep what is mine. I’ve spent too long planning everything out and making sure things run smoothly in order for things to get where they are now. I’m not giving my love up so easily.”

“Then, obviously you wouldn’t harm her own sister!” She manages to choke out, gaze darting off to his right as if something, or someone has caught her eye. His grip only serves to tighten ever so slightly as his eyes flash red.

“Wouldn’t I?” He hums, tilting his head in false sympathy. “I mean, considering I disposed of my own mother who got in the way, what’s a measly little human girl compared to that?”

Minho can do nothing but watch as this event unfolds before his very eyes, taking a few steps back in order to give the Prince space to do what he has to. His own heart is pounding in his chest out of fear, so he can only imagine how Lori feels in this very moment.

“It’d be so easy for me to cover up your death, so don’t flatter yourself,” Jaehyun seethes, eyes crazed as he stares into hers. “I’ve done everything I can to rid myself of nuisances in my way. So, what’s one more?”

Shifting his predatory gaze, he locks eyes with Minho, waiting for the advisor to speak and confirm his words.

“Yes, Your highness, you’re correct,” Minho swallows nervously, he’s never seen Jaehyun like this before. The intense insanity in his eyes nearly has Minho stumbling over his own feet despite standing perfectly still. He knows something must have happened last night after the engagement party, otherwise there’s no way he would be looking like that right now.

“You’re nothing,” he hisses. “A measly little human whose life will end at the flick of my wrist, worth no more that the servants I’ve killed beneath my feet. Poor Greta, only wanted to warn the love of my life about me, and look what that got her,” he feigns a pout, “only her throat ripped out.”

Lori gasps, remembering how you mentioned to her that one of the servants you met on one of your first days here seemed to have suddenly disappeared, never to be seen again.

“Not to mention the countless other lives I’ve taken for even looking at my love the wrong way. Or maybe, perhaps I should say poor Ben, who only got his skull run through for providing the wrong information about my love’s favourite foods,” Jaehyun tuts, shaking his head. “Bastard could have ruined everything. Just as you are trying to do.”

Lori can feel the breath being squeezed out of her lungs as Jaehyun slowly crushes her airway. She attempts to claw at the hands around her neck to no avail, legs kicking out uselessly beneath her. 

“Don’t you ever think for one second I’d let you take away what I’ve worked so hard to achieve,” he spits, venom dripping from every syllable as he crushes her throat, bringing his other hand up and tearing her head off in the next moment in his anger. “Worthless scum.”

Lori’s head hits the floor with a loud thump, her blood pooling around her now discarded body as lifeless eyes stare up at Jaehyun in fear. He shakes his head in disgust, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe off the blood that had managed to get on his hands. 

“Clean this up,” he orders, turning to Minho to see him nod once in understanding.

Closing his eyes, he shakes his head. So much for his pleasant morning. 

Turning around, Jaehyun sighs, eyes still closed. His face is still contorted into an expression of annoyance, brow furrowed as he takes a deep breath. He can feel his whole body tense as he recognizes a familiar faint scent in the air.

Slowly, he opens his eyes, realizing in horror that you stand in the open doorway of the throne room. Your hands are both raised over your mouth, as if to cover a silent scream as tears stream down your face. He can feel his dead heart falter in his chest as he watches you. The fear you look at him with is something he never ever wanted to see from you, especially directed towards himself.

A few moments pass by with the two of you just silently observing the other. Jaehyun hates how it’s only now that he can seemingly hear the loudness of your racing heart, your scent becoming stronger the more time you spend staring at one another. All that he had worked so hard to create, everything he’s done to impress you, to woo you and make you fall in love with him, is now ruined. It’s only all confirmed when he sees you turn and attempt to run away from him.

In an instant, he’s run to you, caging you in his arms and holding you tightly. Your screams and protests are falling on deaf ears as he holds you to his chest. His attempts to quietly shush you and calm you down are not working, with you only seeming to struggle harder against him, spouting insults and curses at him. 

“Sweetheart, please,” he sighs, “I need you to calm down.”

“Calm down?” You’re hysterical at this point. “Calm down? You just murdered my little sister in front of my very eyes and you have the audacity to tell me to calm down?”

“I did it for us,” he replies calmly, voice sounding completely opposite to how he really feels inside at the moment. “She would have only gotten in the way.”

He’s not entirely sure how you managed to sneak up on him, but he assumes that he didn’t hear you due to his dull senses this morning. The fact that you’re covered in his scent is probably why he didn’t smell you right away, too. Either way, he’ll do his best to steer the conversation in a direction which suits him, considering he doesn’t exactly know how long you had been standing there for. However, your next words only serve to confirm just how long you had.

“And I suppose your mother, Greta, Ben, and who knows who else were all collateral, too?” You retort, anger and disgust shining in your eyes which only causes his grip to tighten ever so slightly around you.

“Yes,” he answers, but he isn’t stupid enough to believe you’ll willingly accept his reasonings. “They were. I don’t expect you to understand why I’ve done what I have yet, but if you think I’m ever going to let you go, you’re mistaken. And before you say you hate me, I just want you to think back on everything I’ve ever done for you since you’ve been here. I want you to remember all the moments we’ve shared together, especially the good ones. Especially last night,” a shiver runs down your spine as he whispers those words lowly in your ear before trailing his lips down your neck, pressing them against the same spot he did the previous evening. Your struggling lessens as he continues, “I’d never do anything to harm you, I think my actions towards you have shown that. I never wanted you to be scared of me. Why do you think I never showed you this side of me yet?”

“You really are a devil,” you spit, finally giving up your attempts to escape his hold for you know that it’s futile at this point. You’ve long been trapped in his clutches, you just only wish you’d realized it sooner.

“A devil who loves you,” he hums, nuzzling his face deeper into your neck and breathing in your combined scents. A shiver goes down his spine. At least now he doesn’t have to worry about hiding this side of himself from you any longer. Plus, you now know what he’s capable of; what he’s willing to do for you. What he’s always been willing to do for you. “I always get what I want, so don’t even think about leaving me. You sealed your fate the moment you agreed to become mine.”

“I hate you,”

He simply chuckles, “that’s not what you were saying last night.”

“Yeah, well, things change,” you reply, refusing to so much as look in his direction as he holds you from behind.

“That they do,” he hums once more, clearly amused by your stubbornness. In the next moment, his eyes are going dark, expression deadly serious as he turns you around to stare deeply into your eyes. A shiver goes down your spine. “One thing that hasn’t changed though, is the fact that whether you like it or not, you can never escape me. I love you, and I will always love you, so you better get used to that. After all, a King should never be without his Queen.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨3

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) sleep paralysis, stress.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: I’m so happy people are liking this story. Thanks so much to everyone reading and sorry if I’m a bit inactive lately, I’ve been exhausted and yesterday didn’t end, I swear.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

On Monday, you yawned over your keyboard as your fingers moved on instinct alone. Your eyes ran along the text but the words were just letters to you. You had a lot to think about, a lot to do. 

You decided you would skip lunch and get through your work day an hour early so you could head to Clark’s right away. He was hard to deny when he asked if you could make it back so soon. You told him you worked everyday from home and you had hours beside that at the gallery three times a week at least. He accepted it with a nod but his silence was telling so you caved and said you could make it but not until the evening.

You texted Marcus as you waited for your Uber. He had a few hours to go still and you left him everything he needed to make supper with instructions; the veggies were cut, the meat thawed, and the pans already arranged on the stove. You had faith he could manage on his own.

The mansion was just as intimidating as the first time you visited. You walked up the drive and to the front steps. It was human nature to be envious of the sprawling yards and lavish estate and yet, it didn’t feel as if someone could truly live here. It would be like staying in a hotel as you were always overly aware of your every move, afraid to break something or make a mess.

You hammered the large knocker when your soft tapping brought no answer. You heard someone on the other side and wiggled your foot nervously. The door opened and square-faced woman greeted you in another language. You couldn’t tell if it was Swedish, German, or some other dialect. You were never a skilled linguist.

“Um, hi, I’m…”

“Ah, you are the lady painter,” she said, “I remember. I am Nina, Mr. Kent’s housekeeper.”

She turned and beckoned you to follow her. You closed the tall door and trailed her across the spacious foyer and behind the stairs into the kitchen. She turned through another room and led you out through the glass doors that opened onto the pool.

“Miss, would you like a drink? Tea? Coffee?” she asked.

“No, thank you,” you said as the water moved and your eyes were drawn to the figure moving beneath the surface.

“Miss,” Nina nodded and left you.

You stood, awkward and listless, and glanced around at the loungers and the umbrella over the round table. You weren’t entirely sure what to do. Had he forgotten about you?

“Hey,” your gaze was drawn back to the pool. Clark waded to the edge, his broad shoulders and chiseled chest visible as he made his way to the shallow end, “sorry. Lost track of time.”

He grabbed the metal railing and climbed up the stairs. The water slaked off his tight trunks and down his thick thighs. He appeared even larger with less clothes. You looked away before your thoughts lingered too long.

“It’s fine, I should have texted I was on my way,” you said, “I can go wait for you--”

“No worries,” he took his towel and rubbed dry his dark hair. The scruff along his chin was thicker than before, almost a full blown beard, “you’re not in a hurry, are you?”

“No, not really, can’t really rush… painting,” you shrugged, “I just… I didn’t mean to catch you off-guard.”

“Pfft, I’m ready for anything,” he grinned, “but I should also listen to the artist. I’ll go get changed and you can get settled in the studio.” He directed you ahead of him as he approached the sliding doors, “you just finished work? You should take a few minutes to unwind.”

“Uh, yeah, but it’s just, um, typing, not exactly hard labour,” you said as he followed you inside.

“Work is work,” he said, “I will never fault anyone who works hard, regardless of what they do.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” you stifled a yawn behind your hand.

He let out a breath as you came out into the foyer, “I’m sorry, you could’ve… you’re tired. We could have rescheduled. I’m sorry if I came across… pushy yesterday. I don’t mean to take advantage of you.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you assured him, “I’m fine.”

“Alright,” he said doubtfully, “but you let me know if you need a break.”

“Will do,” you murmured as you neared the stairs.

🎨

You weren’t even close to done just the background of the portrait. Clark really didn’t even need to be there as you shadowed the folds of the curtains around his figure and the marble bust. Your arm hurt from reaching across and up the gigantic canvas and your eyes burned from squinting at your work.

You backed off the ladder carefully with your paintbrush and palette balanced in one hand. The paint was drying and you needed to mix more. You set down your armful and wiped your hands on the rag. He was watching you, he was always watching you. Well, no, he was just looking in your direction; it was all for the portrait.

You hit the button on the side of your phone and gasped. It was midnight. You had several messages from Marcus and you blanched as you unlocked the cell and quickly texted back. You rubbed your eye as you hit send and turned to Clark.

“I didn’t realise it was so late,” you said, “I gotta go.”

“What time is it?” he asked and looked at his watch, “oh.”

He pushed himself to his feet with a grunt and stretched out his arms as he neared. You took your brush and rinsed it in the tinted water in the jar.

“I’ll just clean up as I wait for an Uber,” you said as you let the brush rest in the jar and lifted your phone again.

“I’ll drive you,” he said as he grabbed a rag, “it’s a long way. I’ll hire a driver for you from here on out. It’ll be easier and cheaper.”

“You don’t have to--”

You flinched as he wiped your cheek with the rag. He smiled and showed you the paint on the white cloth.

“I wouldn’t offer it if it was too much trouble,” he tossed the rag down, “and I did have something to talk to you about. The drive will be more than enough to get it sorted.”

“Oh, okay,” you eked nervously. Had you done something wrong? Were you not painting fast enough?

“I’ll meet you downstairs,” he touched your arm gently.

He left you and you finished scraping off the palette and cleaning your brushes. You dumped the jar in the sink just inside the nearest bathroom and rinsed the porcelain back to white. You left everything arranged neatly on the table and descended to the first floor.

Clark stood by the door in a different jacket, his tie gone and the top button undone. He held the door for you and showed you to the garage. There were at least a half-dozen cars inside and he took you to the same silver one he drove the night of the show. You settled in and groaned as the tension left your shoulders.

He started the car as the doors rose behind him and he backed out smoothly. He turned down the long drive and onto the desolate roads of the wealthy countryside. He kept one hand on the wheel and dropped his other to his thigh casually.

“So, your job, you like it?”

“It’s work,” you said, “I get paid to sit at home and type. Half the time, I’m just waiting for an assignment.”

“I asked if you liked it,” he said more pointedly.

“Oh, well, not… really?” you answered, unsure. 

He could be so pleasant and then so blunt. He made you nervous and the more you thought of it, the more you realised you knew almost nothing about this man besides his name. You didn’t know how he made his money or what exactly he did outside of his extravagant mansion.

“If I doubled your fee, would you quit?” he asked without hesitation.

“Quit? This… the painting won’t take forever,” you said, “I can’t really just drop everything--”

“This is an opportunity,” he said, “you could spend your days doing what you love. And who’s to say it’s just one painting? I already have something in mind for the dining room and I have friends asking about you.”

“Friends? Who--”

“One thing at a time,” he said curtly, “I’ll introduce you to them in time. Is it a deal?”

“I… it’s all very sudden, can I think about it?”

He looked at you in the rearview and you caught his eye. For a moment, you were afraid. There was something in his expression that left you breathless. He lifted his hand and stretched his arm between the seats, his fingers gripped the leather just above your shoulder.

“Sure, I’ll give you a couple days,” he said at last.

“I--I’m sorry…” you didn’t know why you were apologizing but it felt appropriate, “I just, I’m tired.”

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” he assured and the epithet hung in the air.

“I have to go to the gallery tomorrow, I’ll get back to you on Wednesday,” you said as you rubbed your chin nervously. Your lips was quivering. He was smiling but you felt his impatience in the small space of the car, “if I… if I say yes, I have to talk to my boss and that might get messy.”

“No problem,” his voice softened, “you take some time and figure it out.” His thumb rubbed the leather seat and he pulled his arm away to grasp the steering wheel, “why don’t you close your eyes. We got some time left.”

You peeked over at him and nodded. 

“Okay,” you murmured and hugged your bag against you as you tried to relax against the leather. You turned your head and looked out the window up at the starry sky. You closed your eyes as the fatigue settled over you but you could only fake dozing as your nerves stormed inside of you.

He was right, it was a great opportunity, but you just couldn’t believe it would last. Was it your own doubt getting to you? Or should you be weary of this fairytale buyer? It was late and you couldn’t think. All those worries could wait until tomorrow.

🎨

You crept into the dark apartment. It was after one and you foresaw a long day ahead of you. You’d get maybe four hours in before it all started again. You put your purse down and went into the bedroom, undressing in the shadows and crawling into bed next to Marcus as the colours of the tv moved around him. The playlist he was casting kept on even as he slept.

He grunted as you laid on your back and he turned to graze your arm with his fingertips. 

“You’re home,” he grumbled and kissed your cheek, “I was worried.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I… it’s so far out there and it’s a lot of work. The canvas is like nine feet-- I’m sorry, I’ll let you sleep.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” his voice was gristly as he propped himself up on his elbow, “you’re gonna finish the job right?”

“I don’t know,” you said, “I don’t know if I can.”

“Of course you can,” Marcus insisted, “I mean, at that price, you can do anything.”

“It’s not about the money, Marcus,” you huffed, “I don’t know if it’s worth all this. Going back and forth…” you ran your hands over your face, “he wants me to quit my job and just paint for him.”

“You should,” Marcus said blithely, “why not? He’s paying you well enough.”

“And what about when I’m done,” you whined.

“You’ll find more work. Vanessa even offered to take on more of your work in her shows, so what’s the problem? Isn’t this what you want?”

“Y-yeah, it is but… I don’t know, it just seems too good to be true.”

“You do this and we might even have enough for a down payment,” he said, “something had to give after all these years. Why can’t it be this?”

You looked at him and tried to smile, “you’re only saying that because he has a pool.”

“Maybe,” he kidded, “but I also want it for you. You spend all your free time painting anyhow so why not get paid for it?”

“Mhmm,” you mumbled, “yeah, I just don’t know why I feel so… I don’t know. It just all seems off.”

“Sleep on it, you’ll feel better,” he leaned over and kissed your lips that time, “love you.”

“Love you,” you echoed as he grabbed the remote and shut off the tv.

You closed your eyes as the darkness shrouded you and despite your anxiety, you fell into a deep sleep. You didn’t even roll onto your side before you sank into your REM but found yourself caught in limbo. The abstract and intense sensation of paralysis overtook your body and your eyelids flicked open.

It was an awful feeling you knew too well. You knew you were dreaming, you knew it was all in your mind, but your body was filled with sand and your subconscious conjured visions of doom. The tall man stood by the door as he always did and just stared. He got closer, just a little at a time, and you fought to move just a finger and free yourself from the trance.

You felt like you were drowning as your body remained heavy and unmoving. He was getting closer and closer. As he did, his figure changed and his shoulders got wider as his features came clear in the slat of the streetlight that leaked between the curtains. It was Clark staring down at you, his blue eyes sinister and sparkling. 

He reached for you and you woke with a start as your name rose from his lips. You inhaled sharply and looked over at Marcus as he snored. It was only the two of you. You reached for your phone, it was just after three. You turned onto your side but your heart still raced. It always happened when you were stressed, the dreams felt so real that you never really came back down after.

You stared at the wall and curled up under the blanket. You didn’t expect to get much sleep anyway, not with the question on your mind. Should you quit and live your dream or should you kill all hope before life did it for you?

[literallymitch]

𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 || 𝐃.𝐃

requested: no

summary: the first part of the reputation series in which the reader first meets Damiano

pairing: Damiano David x famous!reader

word count: 2k

what kind of content: fluff

warnings: drinking

passages written in cursive are flashbacks

some of the lyrics were changed so they would fit the story

Please don’t steal any of my conten and release it elsewhere. Also all of this is fiction. I don’t know these people in real life nor do I know how they act

a/n I I hope you all enjoy this one, as much as I do. I’m so excited about this series jdhidcuheu. What song do you guys think is next? As always please keep in mind english is not my first language. I’m super happy about feedback!!

With a buzzing head I woke up. I shouldn’t have drank so much yesterday. Feeling the after effects of the alcohol I consumed yesterday, I looked at the sleeping figure next to me. A gorgeous man with brown hair and tattoos that fitted him perfectly. I smiled to myself, knowing he was the reason I probably drank a little too much yesterday. There was no way I would have found the courage to actually talk to him otherwise. He looked like an angel sleeping so peacefully in my queen-sized bed. As I looked at his sleeping figure, an idea popped into my head. I grabbed my notebook and went to my balcony that was connected to my bedroom. Looking at him one last time through the huge window in front of me. I opened my notebook and started writing down some lyrics in memory of last night.

You should take it as a compliment That I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk You should think about the consequence Of your magnetic field being a little too strong

“We wanted to start working on our next album soon too.” , the gorgeous man in front of me said with an Italian accent.

After a few drinks I was finally talking to him. I was too busy taking in his beauty that I didn’t really listen  to what he just said to me. All of a sudden, I started giggling.

“You know, your accent is so funny, I love it. Like the way you pronounce some words? Hilarious”.

“Thanks, I guess?”

I cringed a little thinking about this specific moment. If he knew the only reason I was making a fool out of myself in front of him was his magnificent appearance, he would take it as a compliment. He probably already knew that was the reason. How could he not know? It’s not like he has never looked in a mirror. Also, there is no way, I am the first person that had to suffer from his magnetic self. By now he should know what his whole existence is doing to people.

And I got a boyfriend, he's older than us He's in the club doing, I don't know what You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much (I hate you so much)

“Shouldn’t your boyfriend be here as well?” the beautiful Italian boy asked.

“My wha- Oh you mean Andre? He isn’t my boyfriend. The media just made that up after we went out once, and I was caught at two of his games. We haven't talked in months. He’s probably at some club right now, annoying some poor girl.”

At that moment I thought I’ve seen a small smile appear on his face. He then just turned to the bar tender, ordering another beer. God, how could he just keep his cool like this the whole night. Usually it was the other way around. People would stand drunk in front of me trying to make a move, while I just stood there unimpressed. He really made me feel like an insecure fourteen-year-old girl again, and I hated him for that

Whisky on ice, Sunset and Vine You've ruined my life, by not being mine

“The sunset is really beautiful today” Damiano stated sipping on his glass of Whisky. I nodded in agreement while I ate a grape from the vine that was placed on the bar counter.

The bar were at was on top of a small mountain somewhere outside Rome. From there we had a great view over the whole city of Rome and how the sun met the city's skyline. It really was beautiful, still it was nothing compared to him. I wish he would’ve been mine, so I could’ve rested my head on his shoulder right there and then, but he wasn’t.

You should take it as a compliment That I'm talking to everyone here but you (but you, but you)

“I’m glad we’re finally getting a chance to talk after you talked to, well, everyone else at this bar except me.”, the handsome man called me out while he sat down next to me.”

Feeling a bit caught, I just gave him an awkward smile. I tried to come up  with a reasonable excuse, that was less embarrassing than ‘Yeah sorry about that, I was just too scared to talk to you because you look like you’re straight out of my dreams.’

“I’m really sorry about that! It was just that every time I was done talking to someone, the next person already stood behind me wanting to talk.” I lied.

“It’s alright. I guess that's what happens when you’re a world-famous singer.”

And you should think about the consequence Of you touching my hand in the darkened room

It was now 11pm and the sky outside was completely dark. The lights in the bar were also dimmed a bit, creating a cozy atmosphere. Damiano and I were in the middle of our conversation, as he accidentally grabbed my hand, that was resting on the bar counter, instead of his drink. It felt like an electric shock. An electric shock that woke up the butterflies inside my body. My hand started to tingle, and I’m pretty I was full on blushing now.

If you've got a girlfriend, I'm jealous of her But if you're single that's honestly worse 'Cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts

“So do you have a girlfriend?”,  at this point I was so drunk I didn’t even care how this question came across anymore.

I was pretty sure he in fact had a girlfriend, I mean how could he not looking like this?

“No I don’t.” Thank god. “It’s kinda hard building up a real relationship with someone when you're always busy, but I guess you can tell me a thing or two about it too.”

Oh, yes, I could. Still I would drop everything I was doing right now,  just to be with him.

Chocolate brown eyes looking in mine I feel like I might sink and drown and die

Just as my confidence made a small comeback, I made the mistake to directly look into Damianos beautiful brown eyes. There really wasn’t a single thing about him that wasn’t extremely beautiful. I started to feel a bit dizzy as a wave of heat rushed through my body. What is this man doing to me?

Just thinking about it again made my heart beat three times faster.

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have

For like the million time this evening, he made a laugh. Great, so he wasn’t just incredibly handsome, but also extremely funny. I didn’t realize how happy I was in his presence until I remembered he wasn’t mine. Suddenly I felt kind of sad, thinking about how I maybe would never see him again after tonight. I just wanted to grab his hand and run away with him. Somewhere I could be alone with him. Somewhere he would be only mine.

Guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats Alone, unless you wanna come along

I looked at the clock that was hanging on the wall behind the bar tender. I was shocked when I realized it was already midnight. There was no way we’ve been talking for like three hours now. I scanned the room for my friends, I went here with in the first place.

“Looking for someone specific?” Damiano asked, now also looking in the direction I was looking in.

“Just my friends, but it seems like they already went home. I’ll check if they texted me” I picked up my phone, checking if I had a message from my friends.

‘Hi babe, we already went home, we were kinda tired. Have fun talking to handsome stranger. You better tell us everything tomorrow ;)’

“Did they text you?”

“Yes, my friend texted me that they already went home. Guess I’ll have to go home alone then. At least my cats are waiting for me.” I stood up and tried to make my way over to the wardrobe to get my coat. Unfortunately I forgot how drunk I actually and almost tripped as I tried to walk. Alcohol and heels really are not a good combo. Thankfully Damiano grabbed my arm helping me to stabilize myself.

“You’re sure, you’ll make it home alone?”

“Yes, I am a big girl. Unless you wanna come along.” I said with a cheeky grin on my face.

Damiano left out a soft chuckle. He paid for our drinks and then accompanied me on my way back home.

“It’s already pretty late, if you want to, you can stay over.” I told him after he brought me up to my bedroom.

“That would be nice, thanks.”

After I got myself ready for bed, I basically fell into my cozy bed, cuddling myself up in my soft sheet.

“You mind telling me where your guestroom is before falling asleep?” the Italian boy asked with an amused look on his face.

“Mmh, I don’t know. Just sleep here, it's fine.” I answered him, already half asleep.

After that, I probably fell asleep, since I don’t remember anything else that happened.

You're so gorgeous I can't say anything to your face (to your face) 'Cause look at your face

“Good morning.” I heard a raspy voice say.

I looked up from my notebook and came face to face with Damiano gorgeous figure. His hair was messy, and he still looked a bit sleepy. Since he just wore a pair of boxer shorts, I could finally see all the tattoos that covered his upper body. All of a sudden I felt the same way as I did last night when I saw him for the first time. The words were stuck in my throat and I felt the anxiety build up in my body. How does he manage to make me feel this way by just existing?

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” I somehow managed to say.

“Yes I did thank you. What are you doing?” he asked me curiously as he sat down on the garden chair next to me.

“I’m just writing a song. The idea came to mind when I woke up.”

“Not gonna lie, it’s pretty impressive that you’re able to write a song now after you could barely walk yesterday.” a small laugh left his mouth. “Can I see it?”

“No, it’s kinda awful. I’m to hungover to write something good now. I just wanted to write the idea down.” I lied,  I actually really liked the stuff I wrote so far, but he would probably think I’m a freak when he found out I wrote a song about after knowing him for a day.

“Can you at least tell me what it is about?”

“So you can steal my brilliant idea? No, thanks.” we both started laughing. “I can offer you breakfast though”

“I’m fine with that too” he said flashing me his beautiful smile

And I'm so furious At you for making me feel this way But what can I say? You're gorgeous

We were now sitting on my roof garden eating breakfast. Damiano told me some things about his life and what interests he had. As he did, so I looked at him in awe. I really started crushing on him as he continued to talked about his last tour with a huge smile on his face. I hated it that I was practically on my knees for him already, but how could I not? He’s perfect.

“I could really get used to this, you know?” he said out of nowhere.

“Me too.” I responded, not really questioning what he meant.

I also didn’t care as long as it involved us spending time together. I would make him mine no matter what.

[bibbykins]

Double Date

A/N: Hello my dears! I'm not done with the Jin and/or Hobi confession yet but I did write this little flashback last week and think I'm finally ready to post it! This is the situation in which Jimin discovered MC's reaction to yelling, just to clarify. As always, please hop into my ask box and give me some of that lovely feedback!

Note: This is a flashback as part of the drabble series The Household's Bunny, which I recommend reading the installments of prior to this one

Word Count: 4.2k

Pairing: Soft Yandere! Jimin x Chubby! Reader

Warnings: Lying, fatphobia, usage of the word "fat" as an insult, talks of sex, yelling, vomiting, implied previous trauma, bad friend, loser date, verbal argument, implied stalking, yandereish behavior

Summary: On a double date was not how Jimin imagined your first date with him going. Let alone, a double date in which you both are with someone else. The torture of sitting next to his ex and watching you with another man was well worth it to see you up close. He could only hope you and his "date" don't mind his blatant staring at you.

Jimin often wondered how he ended up so stupid sometimes. From prodigy orphan to absolute idiot. It was a little tragic. Here you were, back from the hospital, a smile on your face, sitting across the table from him… and he was on a date with your friend Yoora.

Sure, Yoora was fine, but she wasn’t you. That’s why they had broken up in the first place. He just… didn’t like her. Of course, he omitted the fact was that he liked someone else.

You, on the other hand, were on a date with some lowlife he hadn’t even bothered to remember the name of. Yoora had begged Jimin to go on a date, to which he vehemently denied. He had dated Yoora and things fizzled out quickly, so he saw no value in going on a date again. He only budged with her begging when she said it was for you, who was apparently too nervous to be on a date alone with this other guy. He sprung at the chance to see you outside of class, something he could only hope Yoora didn’t notice. Although, Jimin couldn’t help but wonder why you would go on a date with someone you weren’t comfortable being alone with, but maybe he was just bitter you were going on a date with someone that wasn’t him.

You flashed Jimin a brief smile in between your chat with Yoora, making his mind go blank. Fuck, you were so pretty. You wore a simple white turtleneck with a brown plaid skirt and brown loafers with white socks to match. You looked unbelievably cute, even against the aged neon fabric of the chairs at the bowling alley. Not that your date appreciated just how divine you looked, hardly paying you any mind, instead looking around constantly and only really responding to Yoora.

Not that Jimin was being much better to Yoora. His eyes were constantly fixated on you, but both you and Jimin unaware of this blatant fact. He hadn’t been this close to you outside of the classroom in… well, basically ever. He watched with hearts in his eyes as you bowled your second gutter ball. He laughed as you bowed cheekily before returning to the table right as your date went to bowl.

“I’m so full!” Yoora exclaimed as you sat back down, the pizza you both agreed to share only having two slices out of it as you reached to make it a third, “I don’t know how you can eat more than one slice, y/n! Good for you.” She giggled obnoxiously as your moves faltered in setting the pizza on your plate.

Jimin’s eyes landed on Yoora’s form for the first time in the whole night with a displeased look. Her form shrunk under his sharp glare and any future taunts she had planned died on her tongue as you searched for the words to say, “She’s just keeping herself nourished for me, aren’t you babe?” Your date spoke with a slimy voice as he slid in the booth next to you and Jimin watched confusion fill your face. Jimin’s smile noticeably dropped.

"It's a little silly to imagine everything she does is for you, no?" Jimin gave your date a pointed look, all with a smile on his face, as your date also shrunk, nodding awkwardly.

The most input your date ever gave to you directly was about how hot you were or to chide at your poor bowling skills. It was a little painful watching your smile fade throughout the date, and Yoora joining in to try and make you feel even worse wasn’t helping. Jimin couldn't imagine a scenario in which any of this would make you happy, and he just couldn't hold his tongue the entire time.

“I’m just hungry.” You shrugged, figuring Jimin was just being a gentleman in lightly scolding Jihoon, “I eat when I’m hungry, hence the pizza.” You spoke simply as you took another bite. You knew what Yoora was doing. Passive-aggressive slights to your weight in front of romantic partners were not shocking to you in the slightest.

This was why you didn’t want to go on a double date with Yoora. Sometimes she was nice and funny, but other times she was like a mean girl straight out of a teen movie. This was why you considered Yoora more acquaintance than a friend since she only talked to you when she had no other friends around. This dynamic was fine enough since you hadn’t made any friends in college, so having someone to interact with was nice enough, but you drew the line at her getting this intimately involved. However, she insisted she should bring herself and Jimin along for your safety. You had joked you’d like to see Jihoon try to carry you away to kidnap you, but she didn’t laugh.

It was ironic that your weight was only funny when she was making the joke.

Yoora shrunk a bit as she watched a smile grace Jimin’s features again while you ate, “I’m gonna use the bathroom.” She spoke hurriedly out of nowhere and you gave her a small wave.

Your date resumed his survey of the building before his eyes caught sight of something and went wide, “Shit, a friend from my bio lab is here.” He murmured quite loudly before turning to you, “I’ll be right back.” He spoke in a similarly rushed tone as he made a bee-line to the restroom.

You gave Jihoon a weak smile, waving him away when you realized he didn’t even look at you for a response before getting up. Well, there goes another liar. Last night it was, “Baby, you’re so beautiful. I could see myself marrying you. Let me take you on a date and then we can come back to my place and seal the deal.” You were no longer so naive as to think a simple handjob would make Jihoon a romantic, but you did hope it would be enough motivation for him to reciprocate with skill. You hated liars, especially liars who do it to get into your bed. On top of that a horny liar with no skill.

Jimin noticed your date dodge the line of vision of his friend and sneak to the bathrooms and frowned, “Why is he going to the bathroom if his friend is right there?” He mused to himself.

“To hide.” You sighed, making Jimin jump, shocked you heard him. You looked up and saw his confusion before sighing, “He doesn’t want to be seen with me, so he’s going to the bathroom.”

Still short-circuiting from the direct eye contact he was making with you, he sputtered, “Wha- Why would-”

“Look at me.” You poked the sliver stomach between the hem of your top and the top of your skirt. Jimin admired the plush skin before snapping himself from the trance.

He shrugged, “I am, and it makes even less sense.” He finally had the determination to hold eye contact with you without his mind going into overdrive and right as you opened your mouth to respond, your phone vibrated.

You looked down at it with a frown, “Yoora wants me to meet her outside.” You mumbled, before looking up at Jimin, “I don’t think I was supposed to say that to you.” You looked at him with a sorry look, “I’ll be back.”

You pushed the front doors open to see Yoora standing with her arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently as she looked around, as if she didn’t send you the text message a mere minute ago. She caught sight of you and her eyes went wide before settling into a smug gaze, “Ah, there you are!” She smiled and it was sickly sweet, “I wanted to tell you Jihoon and I are leaving.”

Ah, she must have been looking around for his car to come around. Well, that’s saving you the awkward conversation of rejecting him, so you shrugged, “Okay.”

Evidently not wanting the nonchalant reaction you gave her she scoffed, “Seriously? You have nothing to say?” For some reason, Yoora would sometimes make it her mission to push your buttons, usually, this was by making you flustered, so you’re not sure what happened to spur on such unadulterated malice.

However, you didn’t really have the energy to dissect it so you shrugged a little more incredulously, “What is there to say? No?” You scoffed, “You guys are consenting adults, you both made a choice-”

“God, you’re so annoying!” Her increase in volume made you jump and also caught the eyes of fellow students and unaffiliated customers just trying to have a night out.

Nevertheless, you blinked wildly, “Me?!” You guffawed, “You’re the one that brought me out here to tell me you’re ditching me and your date?” The whole thing felt so ridiculous.

“Yes, you!” Her hands gestured to you wildly, “My date is oogling you and so I decide to seduce yours and you just say ‘okay’?!” Her volume was increasing and you could feel a familiar nausea pooling in your stomach, “Let me be pissed at you for stealing my date!”

“It’s not my fault I’m hot, nor does that make you less hot.” You countered, not really believing it was you Jimin was interested in, but more so Yoora he wasn’t interested in, “He just doesn’t like you. You said you knew that.” You pointed out, making her falter because you were right. Yoora told you Jimin wasn’t interested in her but she was trying to change that despite your words of caution.

“You? Hot? You’re fat!” Ah, there it was. She was evidently running out of sound reasons to be mad at you but was still not ready to just face the fact that she felt shitty her date looked at the fat girl more than he looked at her.

You couldn’t contain your laugh, “Oh, no shit? I am?” You mockingly looked down at your form, which only seemed to fan the flames.

“Just get fucking mad at me!” She shouted, wiping the smile off of your face

You sucked your teeth, “Stop yelling. You know that yelling makes me-”

She rolled her eyes before losing her mind, “What do I know about you?! You won’t even tell me why you were in the hospital-”

Now you were getting really queasy and annoyed, wanting this to end because at this point she was just yelling at you to feel like less of an asshole, “Because you’ll just tell everyone, and it’s not their business- or yours for that matter!” You felt a little bad criticizing her gossipy nature, but you knew you were going to puke any minute now.

“I’m your friend!” She spat, ironically, in a rather unfriendly manner

You scoffed, “You’re going home with my date!”

This seemed to catch her off guard, almost, almost, making her realize she was simply being an asshole, but she stuck to her guns, “He-He doesn’t even like you!”

“And yet, if we’re such good friends, you’re still going home with him to what? Prove a point to me?!” You were exasperated as you heard his obnoxious car pull up behind you, “I know now he doesn’t like me, that’s what the date was for!” You were beyond tired as you watched her eyes dart between you and the red Mustang, “But now I know that you don’t really like me either.” You sighed and this made her sight settle on your form, her gaze significantly softer.

“Y/n…” Her voice was lower, surrendering.

“It’s fine. You’re not required to like me.” You insisted, “I just wish you wouldn’t lie about it.” This time, you felt a little hurt at your own words, but the bile in your throat wouldn’t give you much time to reflect on it, especially as Jihoon honked his horn, like the gentleman he was, “Well? Go on.” You gestured to the obnoxious car as Yoora got in with her head down.

Not even bothering to wait for them to drive away, you ran to the alley on the side of the building with a hand clasped over your mouth. The moment you made it to the dim-lit hallway of brick, you puked your guts out. The bile burned your throat, but you could still feel a careful hand pulling your hair back ever so gently as another hesitantly rubbed your back. The touch was calming and void of judgment. You figured someone assumed you were drunk and was used to being a hero. However, when you were finally done and stood up, you were faced with the most sought-after man of the Arts department.

“Are you… okay?” Was the first thing that came out of his mouth and you had no real energy to be all that embarrassed. Vomiting took all the life out of you almost every time.

You simply turned back to look at the mess you made and cringed, “Oh shit.” You spoke slowly, “I should clean that up.” You sputtered.

Jimin merely smiled and shook his head as you turned back to him, “It’s an alleyway, come on, someone will just make a worse mess in an hour.” He handed you a water bottle, “Go ahead and rinse.” You looked at him with pleading eyes, his looks were more than enough to make you feel flustered. He seemed to read your eyes as he turned around.

“Thanks.” You spoke up after you rinsed, “But-”

“Let me drive you home.” He waited to hear your footsteps behind him before pressing onward.

He ignored your protests the whole way to his car, brushing them off with a wave of his hands. You had figured it was just him being cool, but the reality was that he was mentally hyping himself up. Now with his anger at Yoora and your date dissipated, he was back to a bumbling mess when it came to you, even if the nagging worry of what could have happened to you to make you throw up at yelling was an ever-present weight he took on his shoulders. The girl of his dream would be in his car, sitting right next to him, and that was enough to make him short-circuit. His face was getting redder and redder just thinking about it. Not that your polite and melodic voice insisting you can just take the bus helped any. Surely you had to know how beautiful you were? He never doubted you knew until today, and the notion made him frown but also, thankfully, calm down.

By the time he opened the door for you, any hints of redness on his face were obscured by the cloak of night over the sky and the dim street lamps. You gave him a short smile and he had to fight a squeal in his throat. Instead, you were met with a strained look, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he even liked you or if he was just being kind. You entered your address on his phone and he feigned looking at the route as if he wasn't familiar with the area. He then texted one of his housemates a name and a license plate number for information and wordlessly began driving.

You simply looked out the window as he seemingly studied his phone, not wanting to make his possible dislike of you worse. Although, you would prefer him not to like you at this point. You were kind of over people “liking” you by now. Jihoon had done no less than confess his undying love for you mid-orgasm and you were ashamed to admit how excited that had made you feel despite the emptiness that could be felt in the air. You had convinced yourself that could just be how love felt. How would you know any otherwise? Part of you knew you were deluding yourself, even if you would never know what love felt like, you knew it wouldn’t feel like that. It wouldn’t feel like the bittersweet taste of settling for less than you deserve in exchange for an escape from the all-consuming loneliness that surrounded you no matter who you hooked up with.

“I’m, uh, sorry Yoora did that to you. Jimin blurted out, making you look to him and making him clench the wheel.

“It’s not your fault.” You reassured him, “The whole point of the date was to see if this guy actually ‘loved’ me, or even liked me for that matter.” You couldn’t stop yourself from talking, “That post nut clarity must have made him realize he’s a huge liar.” You couldn’t hide the bitterness in your words before you took a breath, “So, how much did you hear?”

“I walked out when I heard her calling you fat.” He stumbled against the words, clearly uncomfortable even repeating Yoora.

You hummed, “Yeah, well, I guess you’re all caught up.” You looked back out the window and Jimin could relax ever so slightly, “I don’t know how I can make her feel threatened. She’s so… loveable.” He frowned at this, “I know I’m pretty, but that doesn’t make me loveable.” He wanted so desperately to say you are loveable. If you weren’t, what had he spent the last year doing? He wanted to slam on the breaks and finally tell you how captivating you are in more ways than one, but the fear of misstepping caged him into his spot as you continued on, “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that no one is obligated to love me.” You seemed to be letting all the exhaustion hit you, not even bothering to stop yourself, “It’s okay. I have the next best thing, sex.” Even you seemed to be unconvinced, “Maybe if I ask everyone for sex I’ll feel as content as Jihoon.” You seemed to be getting more and more upset as you dwelled on the topic.

“Why haven’t you asked me for sex then?” Jimin wanted to slam his head on the wheel and call it a night when he heard his voice speak what should have been an offhand thought.

You giggled a bit at this, relieving Jimin a bit, before shrugging, “I don’t want to use you like I let people use me.” You blew a breath, "You called my bluff. I don't wanna use anyone."

“Why do you let-”

“I, too, get horny and lonely.” You laughed bitterly, “People just lie to me that it’s something more when it’s not. Thank goodness I’m a psych major, or else I might believe them each time.” Judging by the melancholy in your words, Jimin doubted you didn’t not believe some of them, and the notion tore his heart in half. However, he was so pinned down by his fear, he couldn’t conjure the words needed.

“I mean, there are people out there who would like you and not just your body.” He spoke and he swore he was breaking a sweat by now.

You shrugged again, unconvinced again, “I’m glad you never asked me for sex.” You murmured and he glanced at you.

“Why?” Was he not your type?

“Because I think you’re a good person,” You gave him one more smile as he pulled up to your apartment complex, “and I’d like to keep thinking that.” You placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, “Thank you, for everything tonight.” He merely nodded in acknowledgment, throat strangled with a million emotions as he watched you go into your apartment.

Jimin let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding and drove, as if on autopilot, and let his head plop lightly on the wheel, “Pathetic display, Jimin.” He scolded with a strained voice. He hated this about him. He hated that each time emotions got too real, each time he could not hide behind a charming smile and playful banter, he would choke up. He had been a dance prodigy since birth, since getting scouted by a private school, since Mona adopted him for his career to go even further. And yet, he couldn’t confess to the girl he’s liked for over a year. Instead of staring, he wished he had just asked if you were okay.

He had never imagined you would be nearly as lonely as you felt. Anyone on campus would look at your smile and assume you were doing peachy, but by now, with his observations, he could see when you were faking. Why had he never approached you more to make you smile for real? Why did he remain complicit in fuckers like Jihoon and Yoora’s plight to make you feel less than the perfect girl you are? Who had instilled such an intense reaction to yelling in you? How many times have you thrown up in an alley alone because of the people who knew how to use someone as caring as you? Maybe if he had sat down and eaten that cookie with you, he would be driving the both of you home together.

He wondered if he would ever get the chance to do so at this point.

-------

“...Jimin?” Your voice snapped him from his thoughts as he looked at you, all dolled up and a little sweating from performing your final for the class he was your TA for, “You still here?” You giggled as you waved your hand in front of his eyes. You had been the last one to perform, so you figured his brain was fried from watching dozens of dance performances.

His smile grew with yours as he caught your hand in his, interlacing your fingers, “Yeah, I’m here, just got swept away in your performance is all.” He responded cooly and you rolled your eyes mockingly, “I’m serious, it was beautiful.” He brought your hand up, placing a kiss on your palm.

“Well, I had a wonderful training buddy.” You interlocked your fingers behind his neck as he laced his fingers on the small of your back. The PDA made you feel giddy, like a girl in her first relationship showcasing her wonderful boyfriend to the world, “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He studied your face, your form, your everything for a moment. He basked in the glory of having someone as beautiful as you within his reach at long last. He thought back to each practice session and each kiss that came with it and couldn’t help the glee that spread in his chest. The glee was only further amplified by the very emotion on your face and he couldn’t fathom how he ever lived with himself seeing a fake smile on your face most days.

“You know I love you, right?” He blurted, making both of your eyes widen. Had he seriously just done that? Had he seriously confessed his love to you while the rest of your dance class waited to be dismissed? The air was still before he spoke again, “Could you do me a favor and beat the shit out of me?” He asked, making you giggle. Your joy was contagious and he found himself laughing too, in spite of the millions of emotions at confessing his love so suddenly.

You couldn’t fight the smile on your lips even if you tried. There was something so weightless about Jimin’s love, yet so meaningful. Where Yoongi had been intense and passionate, Jimin was bashful yet honest. It was this floaty feeling that made you lean up to his ears and whisper, “I love you too.” You beamed at him with a genuine smile and his heart soared.

“You do?” He asked excitedly, “You don’t have to, you know?” He reassured you and you could only chuckle.

“Oh well, if I don’t have to…” You joked as you moved to pull away from him, but he pulled you closer.

“I take it back- You have to.” He hurriedly spoke, “If… If you mean it.”

You nodded, a blissful smile on your face as you leaned up to kiss him, “I mean it, and it’s really nice being able to know you mean it too.” You whispered in his ear and in a moment of pure joy, he lifted you and spun you around, not caring about who saw or stared. You squealed at this, enjoying the moment of careless affection. He set you down with a slow kiss and you couldn’t help but melt into his form.

“You ready to go home?” He asked with a gleeful tone. You nodded excitedly and watched with hearts in your eyes as he dismissed the class with his hand in yours. He was always happy to display your relationship, even telling the professor in case he didn’t want Jimin grading your work. He announced it to the class with a blissful look and posted you all over any and all social media accounts he had. He had never been more proud to have someone by his side, and it made you emotional more than once. He held your hand in his as you walked to the car, swinging your arms just to hear your melodic laugh.

You checked your phone as Jimin closed the car door when you got in, “Oh, Hobi’s flight got delayed until tomorrow and Jin has to stay late tonight.” You mumbled, deep in thought for a moment, “And everyone else has something going on, so I guess it’s just me and you for dinner. One last night of freedom before you have to be busy too.” He placed a hand on your thigh as he drove and he'd be lying if he said he didn't have to mentally hype himself up to do it each time.

“Do you want to pick up dinner or just cook at home?” He asked cooly, masking his sheer glee at the domestic implications in his question.

You hummed, “I can cook something if you want,” You noted before a mischievous smile grew on your face, “My love.” You teased the pet name, making Jimin brake abruptly as he was getting out of the parking spot, his arm holding your body back from pushing forward. You gasped before you dissolved into laughter.

“Hey! Are you trying to make me crash?!” His face was beet red as he lectured you about car safety and how words can shake his whole world the whole ride home, and you had never been more enchanted by a flustered lecture in your life.

Eventually, he was finished lecturing you and the car was filled with laughter and light quips. He wondered how he ever lasted this long without you by his side, but he was glad he would no longer have to.

Tip Jar

[sunflowervolvimp3]

42 Hours (II)

Content: part 2 to an enemies to lovers au in which Harry and Y/N are forced into a cross country road trip to make it to their best friends’ wedding on time!! includes a karaoke bar in Cleveland, Ohio, sharing of motel rooms (oh my god there was only one bed 👁️👁️), and a lesbian wedding in the Catskills

Warnings: language, alcohol, NSFW content, making fun of Nebraska and The Notebook

Pairing: Harry Styles x reader

Word Count: 32k

A/N: okay can I just say that I am so glad this is finally done. I have been working on this fic for over a month!!! the entire thing is over 51k in length!!!!!! my word doc is almost 100 pages!!!! this was meant to be a fun story about enemies to lovers stuck on a road trip!!!!! what happened!!!! but thank you guys so much for all the love and support and interest in this story <3 I was really nervous about splitting it up (which looking back was a good choice because again. it’s so long.) but you all showed so much love for the story and the characters!!!! I’d like to give a special shout out to miss andrea @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy​ and miss alex @darthstyles​ for proof reading, and miss andrea again for this pretty header image!! if you’re looking for any good reads after this, I highly recommend checking out their masterlists!! and as always, if you like this fic, please like it AND reblog it!! and shoot me a message about it!! feedback is always appreciated, not just by me, but by ALL content creators, and is the main motivation for us to create more for you all to enjoy!!

{masterlist}

{masterlist}

here is everyone’s wedding looks!! and HERE is a lil moodboard of Jo and Laure’s wedding so you can sense the vibes!!

also!! if you want to set the mood for a road trip with Harry, here is a link to the playlist that is mentioned and referenced in this fic!!

It’s almost instantaneous, Y/N notices, how quickly and easily she and Harry fall into a rhythm of friendship. From the moment she wakes up the next morning to a blue sky, the storm long passed, and Harry holding out a cup of black coffee for her, the stress and anxiety of the previous day is gone. There’s no watching herself around Harry, biting her tongue to stop herself from snapping over every small motion he makes as he fidgets in the driver’s seat.  There’s no irritation caused by the way he taps his fingers on the steering wheel, or how he asks any question that crosses his mind, speaking out his random chain of thoughts just as often.  

The thing that Y/N’s come to realize is that Harry is so much more interesting than she’d ever thought. He’s certainly more interesting than the endless fields of corn that whip by her window as he drives down the interstate.  His jokes are dumb, but he says them with such a big grin on his face that she can’t help but laugh.  His comments are strange, but Y/N finds herself enjoying the weird words that slip from his mouth without being caught by a filter.

“If we were in a Children of The Corn situation,” Harry begins, raising his voice to be heard over the sounds of Simon and Garfunkel. “Do you think you’d be able to outsmart the cult?  Or would you get sacrificed to He Who Walks Behind the Rows?”

Y/N half chokes on the bottle of water she’d just raised to her lips, and coughs the liquid from her lungs as she turns to give Harry an incredulous look. “Excuse me?”

“We’re in Nebraska. That’s where it takes place, right?” Harry asks, glancing at Y/N from behind his sunglasses. “There’s, like, a weird child cult, and they kill all the adults in town for the corn harvest, or something, and then this couple on a road trip discovers them, and tries to stop them.  Do you think you’d be able to?”

“Do I think I’d be able to stop a child cult?  Or would I get sacrificed to their weird corn god?  That’s what you’re asking me?” Although she can’t help but snort at the ridiculousness of the question, her mind is already appraising the situation Harry’s proposed. “I think I’d be able to stop them.  They’re just kids, right?  You just can’t be afraid to—you know—” Y/N drags her thumb across her throat, and Harry quirks up an eyebrow at her casual response.

“You’d kill a bunch of kids?”

“If the kids were evil and wanted to kill me?  Absolutely.” Y/N leans her head back on the head rest, still keeping her eyes locked on Harry. “Wouldn’t you?”

Harry lifts one shoulder in response. “I don’t know.  I’d try to reason with them, I think.”

Y/N extends a finger gun at him, clicking her tongue in sync with the motion. “And that’s why they’d sacrifice you and not me.”

Harry laughs, shaking his head slowly as he turns his attention back to the road. “Lovely. Wouldn’t you try to save me?”

Y/N hums, pretending to think the question over. “That depends on how annoying you’ve been that day.”

“You’re such a sweetheart, Y/N, you really are.” Harry laughs more, but stops abruptly as he spots a sign to the right of the road. “Oh!  There’s a souvenir shop at the next exit!”

A groan falls from Y/N’s mouth as her head flops back, already sensing defeat. “No, Harry, you don’t need another keychain—”

“You don’t know that! Maybe I could get a corn stalk keychain!”

…

“You know, I could drive for a bit.  If you’d like.”

Harry looks up at Y/N with an apprehensive gaze, his nimble fingers halfway through attaching a new silver key chain in the shape of Nebraska to his key ring. “What?”

“You’ve been driving for three days straight.” Y/N leans over the passenger side of the car, resting her arms on the sun-warmed roof. “I could drive.  I know how to; I just don’t do it in L.A. because the traffic is annoying. But the interstate is practically empty, so…”

“Uh, no offense, Y/N, but…” Harry opens the drivers door, a small smile curving the corner of his lip. “No one drives Stevie but me.  And besides, she’s a stick.  Have you ever driven one?”

“Well, no.” Y/N admits, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. “But you could show me.”

Harry inhales deeply, glancing around the souvenir shop parking lot.  Y/N can tell he’s surveying the area, searching for a reason to say no, but as far as she can tell, there isn’t one.  There are no other cars around, and the area is mostly flat, giving her a good space to practice driving in.  With a defeated look on his face, Harry exhales sharply and gives a quick nod as he takes a step back from the driver’s side. “Fine.  Get in.”

Y/N and Harry swap sides in the car, although Y/N is much more enthusiastic about it than Harry is. From the moment she climbs in and begins adjusting his seat, a pained look comes over Harry’s face, making her roll her eyes.

“Oh, come on.  You’re a giant, Harry, I have to adjust things so I can reach the pedals.” Y/N scoffs, reaching up to adjust the rear view mirror. “You can put them all back later.”

“Yeah.” Harry sucks in another breath before pushing his sunglasses up into his chestnut curls. “Okay, so…there’s three pedals on the floor.  The right one is gas, the middle is the brake, and the left is the clutch. And then here—” Harry takes Y/N’s right hand and places it over the gear shift. “This is how you shift.  There’s six gears, right?  And their use depends on the speed you’re going, so you’re going to start with one—” His hand squeezes hers as he shifts the gear shift over and up to the left with ease. “Which is here.  Here’s two—” He shifts the gear shift down to the left, and continues to move it as he speaks. “Three.  Four.  Five. And reverse.  Got it?”

“I think so.” Y/N nods, her hand flexing beneath Harry’s large palm.  His rings feel cool against her warm skin, and she has to admit, it’s not the worst feeling in the world. “Up left, down left, up middle, down middle, up right, down right.  Right?”

“Right.” Harry lifts his hand off hers to point towards her feet, which are sitting on the carpet cover in front of the pedals. “You want to start with your foot pressed firmly on the clutch, the one—yeah.  There, to the left.  Keep it pressed there.  Is it pressed there?”

“Since you first told me to press it, yeah.” Y/N furrows her brow in concentration, which is caused both from learning how to drive manually, and the effort it takes to stop herself from laughing at the nervousness in Harry’s voice. “Now what?”

“Take off the parking brake.” Harry pulls the lever down himself, making sure Y/N is focused on her other movements. “And the car is in neutral, so you can turn the key in the ignition.” He holds out his keys towards her.

Y/N takes the cool metal from his hands, quickly finding the right key for the Impala and slipping it in. The car roars to life, a sound which is now familiar to her ears. “Okay.  There.”

“Good.” Harry pauses for a moment before reaching across Y/N’s body and buckling her seatbelt, which she had forgotten in the excitement to drive. “Safety first.” He sits back in the passenger seat, fixing his seatbelt across his own body. “I have a feeling we’ll be needing these.”

“Oh, shut up.” Y/N sticks her tongue out at him, her eyebrows and nose wrinkling as she makes a face. “What do I do now?”

“Now…” Harry fidgets with his seatbelt again as he moves forward in the passenger seat, one hand bracing against the dash as he directs her. “Press the clutch and the brake at the same time, like that.  Now move the gear shift into first gear.”

Y/N does as he says, pushing the gear shift over and up to the left.  It takes much more pressure for her to move it without Harry’s help, she notes, but doesn’t let the effort show on her face. “Then?”

“Take your foot off the brake.” Harry instructs, caution laced through his voice. “And slowly—slowly! —release the clutch as you press down gently on the gas.”

“Okay…” Lifting her left foot first, Y/N does her best to match the motion with her right foot, pressing down at the same pace as she lifts the other.  Her movement, however, isn’t as smooth as she wants it to be, and the car lunges forward in a choppy motion.

“Careful!” Harry says loudly, twisting his body to face Y/N as he continues bracing himself.  His entire body is tense, his shoulders practically up by his ears as he appraises Y/N. “You have to do it at the same time!”

“Alright, alright—” Y/N tries again, focusing on matching her feet to each other.  This time, the movement is smoother, and the car begins to drive forward slowly, moving faster as Y/N presses down more. “Is that—am I doing it?” Y/N asks nervously, navigating herself slowly through the parking lot. “Is that it?”

“That’s it.  You’re doing good, yeah.” Harry nods slowly, but Y/N can see the strain in his jaw from the corner of her eye. “Now let’s try…let’s try shifting gears, so you can speed up.”

“Try not to sound so terrified.” Y/N mutters, turning the wheel to guide the car around a lamp post.

Harry ignores her comment. “You’re going to do the same motion, but this time release the gas while pressing down on the clutch.  Then move the gear shifter to two, like before, and—”

Before Harry can finish speaking, Y/N attempts to change into second gear.  The car lurches again as she releases the gas and presses on the clutch, and the jagged motion only gets worse after she shifts into second.

“Slowly, Y/N—” Agitation is clear in Harry’s voice, and his knuckles turn white as he grips the dash. “Slower!”

Another lunge of the car shifts Y/N to the side, and her foot slips off the clutch completely. With a sickening sound, the car lurches to a stop, despite Y/N’s foot still pressed on the gas.  “What—?”

Harry, who’s been wincing throughout the entire ordeal, sucks in a sharp breath. “You stalled her.” He says, shaking his head with a quiet horror.

Y/N tugs on her bottom lip as she glances at him from the corner of her eye, her voice hesitant. “Is…that bad?”

“Is that—?” Harry’s green irises snap to meet hers, wide open and shocked. “Yeah, it’s bad. That’s enough practice for today, I think.  I’m driving again.”

Y/N tries to protest. “But—”

“Nope!  Out!” Harry shakes his head firmly, unbuckling his seatbelt and exiting the car in one swift motion. “Come on!”

With a defeated sigh, Y/N unbuckles herself, climbing out of the driver’s door that Harry’s just opened for her.  “Sorry.” She mumbles, walking around to the passenger’s side and climbing back in.

Harry gives her a small smile, albeit a pained one, as he begins to move his feet over the brake and clutch, shifting the car into neutral. “It’s fine.  That was pretty good for a first practice, really. Just…maybe it’s too soon for highway driving.”

Y/N buckles her seatbelt as Harry restarts the engine, and within a few minutes, he has his signal flipped back on to head back to the highway. “You know, mostly I wanted to drive so that I could pick the music.” She says casually, resting her chin in her hand after propping it up against the arm rest. “I’m getting a little tired of The Beatles on repeat.”

Harry laughs, raking his hand through his curls before shifting gears with ease. “Oh really?  What would you put on, if you had a choice?”

“I don’t know.” Y/N shrugs, taking a moment to think. “We could listen to a nice sonata, maybe. Oh!  Or Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake.  I haven’t listened to it in full in a while.”

A sound of surprise and indignation leaves Harry’s mouth. “Tchaikovsky—?  No!  No, you can’t listen to classical music on a road trip!  You need music that you can scream the lyrics to!”

“Is there a rulebook about what you can and can’t listen to on a road trip?” Y/N raises an eyebrow as she poses the sarcastic question. “I wasn’t aware.”

“There’s an unofficial rulebook, yes.” Harry risks a glance over at Y/N, his green eyes alight. “And one of the most important—if not the most important—rules is that any song you listen to has to be able to be sung loudly while driving down a highway. Everyone knows that.”

“My bad.” Y/N says sarcastically, toeing off her shoes to better cross her legs beneath herself. “So, in short, we’re stuck listening to your playlist, huh?”

“Now you get it.” Harry shoots her a cheeky grin, pointing with his free hand. “You can change the song, though.  If you’d like.”

“Really?” Y/N reaches down to the small catch all tray between them, where Harry’s phone sits connected to a car charger.  She picks it up carefully, raising an eyebrow in question. “May I?”

When Harry nods, Y/N clicks on the screen, which displays the controls to the Spotify playlist currently being projected through the car’s speakers.  Unsurprisingly, a Beatles song is moving across the scene, causing Y/N to press the skip button immediately.  The next song is by The Killers, called “Spaceman,” and while she likes it, it’s not really something she feels like listening to in the moment. She hits skip again, passing over “Night Moves,” “Piano Man,” and “Seven Wonders,” (the last skip earning a sound of protest from Harry) before a familiar album cover pops up on the screen.

“Hold on.” Y/N says, mouth agape as the 1990s Vocoder sound fills the car. “You listen to Cher?”

“Are you kidding?” Harry’s surprised expression matches hers. “Of course!  She’s a treasure.” He taps his fingers to the beat of “Believe” while his head bops to the same pattern. “I love this song.  It’s a good one.”

Making a sound of agreement, Y/N lets her gaze drift to the window, watching the agriculture fields that whiz by. “Yeah.” She murmurs, losing herself in the beat. “‘No matter how hard I try…you keep pushing me aside’…”

“‘And I can’t break through’…” Harry’s voice joins with hers, louder and surer of himself than hers had been. “‘There’s no talking to you’…”

Y/N’s head turns from the window, locking eyes with Harry for the split second he looks away from the road ahead of them. “‘It’s so sad that you’re leaving…it takes time to believe it’…”

“‘But after all is said and done’…” The grin playing on Harry’s pink lips grows, popping out his dimples as he continues to sing. “‘You’re gonna be the lonely one’…”

With a grin pasted across her own face, so big that her cheeks ache, Y/N joins Harry for the chorus, yelling the lyrics more than singing them. “‘Do you believe in life after love?  I can feel something inside me say…I really don’t think you’re strong enough’!” Harry’s hand drifts down to the volume dial, turning the music up until the bass thumps through the entire car.  Y/N can feel it in her chest like a second heart beat.

“‘Do you believe in life after love?’” Encouraged by each other, Harry and Y/N scream the lyrics even louder on the repeat, straining their necks as much as their vocal cords. “‘I can feel something inside me say…I really don’t think you’re strong enough’!”

When Harry’s hand moves again, Y/N thinks that he’s reaching for the dial again, perhaps to turn it down, but then his hand makes a questioning motion, and Y/N realizes that Harry, ever the one for dramatics, is acting out the lines.

“‘What was I supposed to do?  Sit around and wait for you?’” Harry points at Y/N then, an exaggerated look on his face as his whole body moves to the beat. “‘Well I can’t do that!  And there’s no turning back’…”

Not wanting to be one upped, Y/N pushes up the sleeve of her sweater, exposing her wrist enough that she can tap on it. “‘I need time to move on’…” A fit of giggles interrupt the next line as she and Harry both raise their arms to flex their muscles. “‘I need a love to feel strong’…” Y/N taps on her temple as she sways her body to the beat the best she can in the car. “‘Because I’ve got time to think it through’…” When she turns to point at Harry, she finds him already pointing at her, once again in sync with her thoughts. “‘And maybe I’m too good for you, oh’!”

They repeat the chorus in the same way as before, screaming the lyrics as loud as they can, pulling dramatic facial expressions and dance moves to match.  Halfway through the repeat, Harry attempts to mimic the classic Cher move of pushing hair over the shoulder, and the ridiculous sight is enough to send Y/N into another fit of laughter.  She almost misses the entrance for the bridge, but recovers just in time to yell the lyrics in sync with Harry.

Forming fists and dragging her arms towards her dramatically, and Harry doing the same with his free hand, the two of them screw their faces up as they sing passionately. “‘Well I know that I’ll get through this…because I know that I am strong’…” The flexing of arms returns for a moment before being replaced by impassioned pleading hand gestures. “‘I don’t need you anymore…I don’t need you anymore…no, I don’t need you anymore…no, I don’t need you anymore’…”

Although they’d been energetic in the previous choruses, Harry and Y/N give their all for the final chorus, bouncing and yelling and gesturing as much as they can as they drive down the interstate at sixty-five miles per hour.  They quiet for a moment as the beat falls out, singing the lyrics at a slightly lower volume, but when the beat returns, they scream the lyrics one final time in unison before the music fades out.

The song changes to “Baby Driver,” and Harry reaches to lower the volume as he and Y/N both struggle to catch their breath.  They laugh between pants, hands on chests as they rapidly rise and fall.  Y/N lets her head fall back against the back of the seat, shifting her legs so only one rests on the seat beneath her thigh.

“That was a good one.” She admits, pushing her now-sweaty hair out of her face. “I’ll give you that. Cher was a good choice.”

“Do you see what I meant, now?” Harry asks breathlessly, his grin still plastered to his face. “Do you still want to listen to Tchaikovsky?”

In lieu of a reply, Y/N reaches for Harry’s phone again, skipping songs until “Jessie’s Girl” begins to drift through the speakers. “Turn it up again, Harry.”

There’s a twinkle in Harry’s eyes when he does as she says.

…

“I can sleep on the floor.” Harry volunteers, tugging his hand through his stretched out curls as his eyes scan the interior of the motel room. “Make a little bed out of pillows.  Then you can have the bed.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Harry.” Y/N shakes her head adamantly, setting her bag on the small table in front of the room’s mirror. “You can’t sleep on the floor!”

Harry purses his lips. “I’ll take the chair, then.  I can stretch out on it—”

“Please, you have limbs like Gumby.” Rolling her eyes, Y/N unzips her bag and pulls out her toiletries. “You can’t sleep comfortably in a chair.  We can deal with one bed for one night.  It’s not the end of the world.”

Four days ago, Y/N might have considered having to share a bed with Harry the end of the world.  If someone had told her about the lack of available motel rooms on the road, Y/N might have never left L.A.  And that first night in Utah, she remembers, she would have rather smother Harry in his sleep than share a bed with him.  Now, however, they’re in Iowa City, and for all her talk of how much she despised Harry before, she’s found herself quite fond of him in a short period of time.

There’s a list of reasons why that’s happened, she thinks, as she pulls out her charger to plug into the wall.  Their forced close proximity in the car and motel rooms probably has something to do with it, as well as Harry being her only company for the last four days.  And maybe, just maybe, a small part of it is due to the way Harry looks in the dim motel room light as he flops back on the bed, his red and black striped t-shirt riding up just the slightest bit to expose the fern tattoos lining the bottom of his stomach.  The way his jade irises manage to sparkle in the light of the lamp, or how his chipped nail polish still manages to look elegant as his fingers dance along his chest and twist his rings over his knuckles.  The way his lips, despite his constant habit of biting them, look so soft and so pink, and how Y/N thinks she could just—

Y/N clears her throat, stopping her thoughts in their tracks.  It’s really been too long since she’s been around another human being, she thinks, keeping her back to Harry as she roots through her suitcase for her pajamas. Four days is too long for her to be with the same person, with hardly any alone time, and she’s wondering if she’ll be able to have alone time any time soon when her fingers brush over the familiar smooth silicone surface of her vibrator.

Y/N pauses, pulling her fingers back as if she’s been burned.  Right.  She’d tossed that in there just before leaving L.A., just in case she needed some stress relief.  Glancing back over her shoulder subtly, Y/N sees that Harry has his phone out now, his nimble fingers tapping along the screen as he lays on the bed.  Maybe some stress relief is exactly what she needs.

Grabbing the first articles of clothing she can get her hands on, Y/N carefully wraps her vibrator within the fabric, trying to fold it so that it doesn’t look like its hiding a small purple sex toy.  Once that’s done to the best of her ability, she grabs her toiletry bag, tucking it under her arm as she quickly makes her way to the bathroom.

“I’m going to shower.” She mutters, closing the door behind her without waiting for Harry’s response.

Although the ritual of stripping from her clothes, starting the shower and adjusting the temperature settings, and relaxing her muscles underneath the (albeit low pressure) stream of water is familiar, it takes Y/N a few minutes to work up the courage to run her hands down the length of her body.  She takes her time as her fingers dance over the planes of her breasts, down her stomach, fluttering over her hips before making their way to the crevice where her thighs flow into her core.  Taking a deep breath, Y/N begins with just her fingers, running them through her wet folds slowly and carefully.

She allows herself the time to warm herself up, waiting until she can dip her index finger inside her slick entrance and circle its way around her clit before grabbing her vibrator from the shower ledge.  She flicks it on to its lowest setting, making sure the electronic buzz is hidden beneath the sound of the shower before gently circling the tip around her clit.

The relief, Y/N finds, is instantaneous.  A breathless sigh slips past her lips as she rubs the toy over her folds, delighting in the fluttering sensation it leaves behind.  Without breaking contact, Y/N turns the toy up a level, biting her lip to keep from moaning as she presses it back to her clit.

Despite the tension building up in her body as Y/N works herself to an orgasm, this is the most relaxed she’s felt in days.  The tension, she finds, is so much sweeter than the anxiety and stress she’s been experiencing throughout the road trip.  Although her shoulders tense, it’s different than the knots worked into her muscles from hours in the car.  Although her leg feels as though it may cramp from its position perched on the bath tub ledge, the burn is more welcome than the ache of being stuck in one seated position.

If someone were to ask her what crossed her mind when Y/N brought herself over the edge, what thoughts drifted into her head as she gripped the wall of the shower with one hand as her core convulsed in the most delightfully sinful way, Y/N would tell them that it was nothing specific.  Strong hands, she’d say, smoothly and knowledgeably caressing her body.  A low voice whispering dirty nothings in her ear. A deep breath flowing down her neck as cherry lips and white teeth nipped and kissed down her skin and across her collar bones.  Nothing specific.  And Y/N would believe it when she’d say it.

But if anyone were to be listening at the exact moment that she thrust the vibrator inside her, panting and whimpering as her index and middle finger worked over her clit and brought her to climax, they’d hear the breathless whisper of a name that Y/N herself didn’t even know she was saying.

The nice thing about getting off in the shower, Y/N thinks, once she’s regained enough function in her head to do so, is that cleanup is a breeze.  Within fifteen more minutes, Y/N’s washed her body, shampooed and conditioned her hair, and is climbing out of the shower with the motel towel wrapped tightly around her body.  Within another few minutes, she’s towel dried to the best of her ability, and finally realizing that the pajamas she’d grabbed in her quick bid for the washroom happened to be the pink silk set that she’d tucked at the bottom of her suitcase four days ago.

Cheeks burning, Y/N weighs her options.  She could wrap the towel around herself, she thinks, and instruct Harry to look away as she snuck back to her suitcase and grabbed the sports bra and boxers she’d been sleeping in for the past few nights.  Or…she runs her fingers over the lace trim of the set.  These pajamas were quite comfortable, and the silk would feel so nice on her body after multiple nights of scratching motel sheets.  And, if she’s being honest with herself, her other pajamas are quite dirty from a new nights of use.  Now that her body feels completely relaxed and clean, she’d like to put on something to match.

When she steps out of the bathroom, Y/N does her best to seem casual and calm, still running her towel through her set hair, her clothes and toiletry bag (where she’s hidden her vibrator) tucked under one arm. “The shower’s free.” She says to Harry, barely glancing at him as she returns her items to her bag. “Although the water pressure is pretty shit.”

A low chuckle echoes from Harry’s mouth. “I expect nothing less.” He says, and Y/N thinks she may be in the clear when the laughter stops abruptly.

Biting back a sigh, Y/N straightens her back, knowing that she can’t avoid the conversation forever. “What?” She asks, tossing her towel on the motel room chair.

Harry is sitting up on the bed, his phone still held loosely in his right hand as his left props his body into an upright position.  As his eyes scan over Y/N’s body, his tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his lips without Harry being aware he’s doing it. “What—” His voice cracks, and a flush creeps up Harry’s pale neck as he clears his throat. “What are you wearing?”

Y/N begins to comb her fingers through her hair, sectioning it off before she begins to braid. “Pajamas.”

A scoff leaves Harry’s mouth. “No, no, those aren’t pajamas.  That’s…lingerie.”

“Yeah, well…I brought them as pajamas.” Y/N mumbles, twisting her hair into the desired pattern before tying it off with the ponytail on her wrist. “Look, I—my other ones are dirty, and I didn’t want to put a sweaty sports bra back on right after showering.  But…if it makes you uncomfortable, then I can—”

“I’m not uncomfortable.” Harry cuts over her, giving a quick shake of his head. “I just—we’re sharing the bed tonight, so I wasn’t sure—as long as you’re comfortable—”

“I am.” Y/N says quickly, cheeks beginning to burn as the conversation continues. “I’m comfortable.”

“Alright then.” If Harry’s cheeks are any indication, then he’s feeling the same thing Y/N is. “I’m…going to shower, then.”

And that’s how, two hours later, after watching a rerun of When Harry Met Sally, Y/N ends up in bed next to Harry Styles in lingerie that she’d bought to impress her ex-boyfriend.

Harry, to his credit, is doing his best to draw a line between them.  His lanky body is practically hanging off the edge of the bed with how far he’s pulled himself from her, his defined back turned towards Y/N. Her own posture mimics his, back turned from Harry, clinging to the edge of the bed in an attempt to respect his personal space.  The problem, Y/N thinks, exhaling hard as she shifts under the covers, is that she doesn’t like sleeping on her side like this, and she especially doesn’t like tensing up to make sure her limbs stay in their designated zone.  It feels awkward and uncomfortable, and after laying in bed for over an hour, she finally huffs before turning onto her back, her hands settling down over the sheets.

“Harry.” She whispers, twisting her head to the side as she struggles to make out the shape of his body in the dark. “Are you awake?”

The bed creaks as Harry’s body shifts towards her, twisting on his hip to be able to meet Y/N’s eyes. “Yeah.  Can’t sleep.”

“Me either.” Y/N rolls over again, propping herself up on her side to face him as he matches the motion. They’re closer now, their faces about six inches away as they rest their heads on their pillows.  Y/N can smell the mint of Harry’s toothpaste on his breath. “Why can’t you sleep?”

Harry shrugs one shoulder as best he can while horizontal. “Dunno.” He mumbles, voice low in the quiet darkness. “Don’t think I’m used to sharing a bed with someone and not…being close to them.”

“Yeah.” Y/N matches the tone of her voice to his, as if speaking quietly and gently will preserve whatever it is hanging between them. “Feels weird.”

Moving his hands from his chest to tuck them under his pillow, Harry worries his bottom lip between his teeth, a nervous look apparent in his eyes even in the darkness. “Would it be okay if I moved closer?” He asks, caution written into every word. “It’s just—staying on the edge isn’t very comfortable.”

Four days ago, Y/N would have shoved him off the bed.  Now, however, she finds herself nodding, pulling her top leg into a bent position, her bare knee brushing over Harry’s beneath the sheets. “That’s fine.”

Y/N watches the way Harry’s body visibly relaxes, the tension she didn’t even know he had leaving his body.  Trying his best to move without disturbing her, Harry turns over to lay on his toned stomach, and the sheets pull down around his body enough that Y/N can see how his Rolling Stones t-shirt has ridden up his back.  Without thinking, Y/N pulls one hand from beneath her pillow and reaches for the sheets, pulling them back around Harry to his mid back.

“Thanks.” His voice is raspy, half muffled by the pillow as he tucks his hands beneath his head, eyes still locked with hers with an intensity that, during daylight hours, would have made her cheeks burn.

But in the safety of the darkness, Y/N simply returns her hand to its previous position, allowing the lack of light to masquerade the concern written onto her face. “You’re welcome.”

…

“I’m not saying The Notebook is a bad movie, I’m just saying that it doesn’t make sense!”

Harry gives Y/N an incredulous look as he flips on his turn signal, shifting gears in the car so he can exit the highway and head towards a gas station. “What do you mean, it doesn’t make sense?” He demands, turning the car over the curve of the road. “They’re in love!  Noah reads to Ally to help her remember that!  What about that doesn’t make sense?”

“Well, the dialogue for one.” Y/N shrugs, tapping her fingers to the beat of “Heroes” that’s drifting through the speakers.

Harry scoffs as he pulls into an empty gas station, slowing the car to a gentle stop in front of a pump. “Give me one example of the dialogue not making sense!”

“‘If you’re a bird, I’m a bird’?” Y/N raises an eyebrow as she quotes the movie. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“What do you mean, what does it mean?” Harry demands, shifting the car into neutral and pulling the emergency brake before turning off the ignition. “It’s romantic!  It’s talking about—about reincarnation, and past lives—”

“And what about how Noah and Ally first met, huh?  She was on a date with someone else!  She wasn’t interested in him!” As she rants, Y/N’s volume grows, almost drowning out David Bowie completely. “And then he climbed up a Ferris wheel, demanded that she go out with him, and said that if she didn’t, he was going to kill himself!”

Harry points an accusatory finger at her, his expression fierce. “Don’t!  It was romantic—”

Y/N pushes his finger away, holding her stance adamantly. “It was creepy!  And don’t even get me started on the arguments, and the lying, and—and she was engaged to someone else!  Noah was a homewrecker!”

Harry takes a deep breath, squeezing his keys in his hand as his eyes close for a moment. “I’m going to fill Stevie with petrol.” He says, his tone careful and controlled. “And when I get back, I am going to give you a very long lecture on why you’re wrong.”

Y/N rolls her eyes as she grabs Harry’s sunglasses from the cupholder next to her, slipping them onto her face as she sticks her tongue out at him. “Whatever.  Go pump the gas, Styles.”

With one last withering look, Harry climbs out of the car and slams the door behind him, turning his attention to the rusted gas pump in the middle of nowhere along the Illinois interstate.  Y/N can’t help but laugh at the irritated look on his face, and how he flips her the bird when he catches her laughing.  Small giggles still roll through her as she turns her attention to Harry’s phone, choosing a new song as David Bowie slowly begins to fade out. She’s just begun scrolling through her options when her own phone begins to vibrate from where she has it tucked underneath her leg.

Y/N sets Harry’s phone back down on his seat as she grabs her own, her eyes widening when she sees Brant’s name lighting up her screen.  She should answer, she thinks, as she hasn’t spoken to him in person since their conversation in Colorado.  That conversation seems like a lifetime ago, and Y/N’s thumb hovers over the “accept” icon, her teeth tugging her bottom lip over and over.  She should answer.  She should.  Brant will probably want to discuss work, and find out when she’s coming back so they can plan another dinner, because he always likes to schedule things at least a week in advance.  He’ll tell her about his coworkers, what the weather in L.A. has been like (as if it ever changes), and maybe, just maybe, if he has time, he’ll tell her about a new Netflix series he’s just starting to watch.  Y/N should answer.

The driver’s side door opens with a creak, and Harry bends down to poke his head inside. “Alright, I’m going to go inside the petrol station and get us some snacks, and then I’m going to explain to you exactly how wrong you are.” He says firmly, mouth pressed into a flat line of determination.  His expression falters for just a moment as he sees the conflicted look on Y/N’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Y/N says quickly, pressing “ignore” and tucking her phone back under her leg. “Just go get the snacks while I create my counterargument, alright?”

Harry rolls his eyes, reaching into the car and pulling his sunglasses off Y/N’s face.  He slips them over his own eyes, his expression back to its determined look. “Fine.  Do you want Cheezies?”

“Uh huh.  The crunchy ones!” Y/N reminds him, grabbing his phone from the seat again to continue selecting a new song.

“Right.  The crunchy ones.” Harry shoots her a finger gun as he shuts the car door. “You can eat them as I prove you wrong!”

“You wish!” Y/N yells back, the phone call all but forgotten as she watches Harry walk into the gas station.

…

“We should go out tonight.”

Y/N sets her duffel bag on the queen-sized bed situated in the center of the motel room, giving Harry a confused look as she registers his words. “Go out?” She asks, tugging on the zipper of the bag. “Go out where?”

“To a bar.” Harry flops down on the bed next to her bag, leaning back on his elbows as he speaks. “All we’ve done this entire trip is drive, and we’re getting to the Catskills tomorrow.  We can have a bit of fun tonight, can’t we?”

Y/N snorts as she rifles through her bag, pulling out her phone charger and favourite book. “It’s a road trip; driving is the point, isn’t it?  Besides, what kind of bars are in Cleveland, Ohio?”

Harry shrugs lightly. “We passed a sign for one on our way into town.  And we haven’t had dinner yet, so we should go get something to eat anyways.  And I haven’t had a pint in forever.”

“I doubt you’ll like the pints from a dive bar in Cleveland, Harry.” Y/N rolls her eyes as she plugs her charger into the wall. “I don’t think they’ll be up to your standards.”

“That’s for me to decide, isn’t it?” Harry matches her eye roll with ease before turning his expression into something more endearing. “Please?  We don’t have to stay too long if you don’t want to!”

Y/N sighs as she sits down on the bed next to him. “Harry—”

“Just one drink!” Harry pleads, pouting out his bottom lip. “Please?  To celebrate not killing each other on this trip?”

In spite of herself, a small laugh falls from Y/N’s mouth. “The trip’s not over yet, Harry.  Don’t count your eggs before they hatch.”

“Y/N…” Harry whines, turning onto his side as he looks up at her. “Come on!”

Y/N tugs her lip between her teeth as she looks down at Harry.  It’s true, she thinks, that all they’ve done for the last five days is drive and sleep in motels.  Maybe they could use a break before tomorrow’s final day.  And they’ve been getting along so well today that Y/N would hate to put a damper on their moods now…

“Fine.” She relents, ignoring how there’s a turning feeling in her stomach when she sees Harry’s green eyes light up. “But just one drink!”

…

“I’ll take another Old Fashioned, please!” Y/N says to the waitress, raising her voice to be heard over the man singing a bad cover of “Take on Me” on the small bar stage. “And—Harry, do you want another?”

Harry bites back a laugh, barely managing to cover it with a cough as the waitress turns to him. “Uh, yes, please.” He smiles charmingly, flashing his eyes to Y/N between his words. “I’ll have another pint.”

With a quick nod, the waitress begins to work her way from their table to the bar, pushing through the crowds of people scattered around the bar.  

Y/N leans over to Harry as she twirls her straw through the remnants of ice in her empty glass. “You picked a good bar!” She says loudly, gesturing to the people around them. “Who knew this would be the center of Cleveland’s drinking scene?”

“I did!  I have good taste!” Harry replies with a laugh, lifting his pint glass to his lips to drain the remnants. “And here I was, thinking that you’d be whining to go home after the first drink!”

There’s something about the way Harry says “home” that turns Y/N’s stomach.  Or maybe it’s the Old Fashioneds, she thinks, as she eyes the three empty glasses sitting in front of her. “Oh.  Yeah.  Maybe we should go…?”

Harry groans, waving off her suggestion without a second thought. “No!  We’re having fun!  When was the last time you went out?”

“Uh…” The alcohol makes it hard for Y/N to think back in her memory, but she does her best to focus for a few moments to search for the answer. “I think…a few months ago?  Jo came to visit, and we went out for drinks…”

“That’s just sad.” Harry shakes his head, feigning disappointment.  Or maybe not feigning it, Y/N thinks, because a deep sigh leaves his lips right after. “You live in L.A., a place with so much culture and so many opportunities, and you don’t take them!”

“I take opportunities just fine!” Y/N defends herself, a pout working its way onto her lips of its own volition. “I’m just busy—”

“You’re always going to be busy!” Harry argues as the waitress approaches them with their drinks. “You—thank you—” He says to her as she hands him his pint and Y/N her Old Fashioned. “You have to take time for yourself, to enjoy things!  Or else life is just going to pass you by, and soon you’ll be old and grey in your apartment, with no cool stories to tell!”

Y/N takes the straw from her previous drink and slips it in her new one. “I have stories!” She argues hotly, a flush coming over her face from both the alcohol and the argument. “I have plenty of stories!”

Harry takes a gulp from his pint, wiping away the drop of beer that drips from the corner of his mouth. “Oh yeah?  Tell me one.”

“Like—” Y/N takes a long sip of her drink. “Like now!  The story of how I had to go on a road trip with a guy I hated to make it to my best friend’s wedding on time!”

“I’m not really a fan of that title, honestly.” Harry purses his lips, his brow furrowing as he sets his pint back down on the table. “How about we call it the story of how you had to go on a road trip with a guy you hated to make it to your best friend’s wedding on time, and along the way, you and the guy actually realized that you got along pretty well, and became friends?”

A small smile plays on Y/N’s lips, and she raises her glass towards Harry. “Sounds like a plan.” She says softly, barely audible over the noise of the crowd.  Harry lifts his pint glass and clicks it against her drink.

They both take a sip of their drinks, and when Harry lowers his glass, there’s a mischievous glint in his eye that immediately makes Y/N uneasy. “I have another idea for a story.” He says, setting his glass down and pointing towards the stage. “How about the story of us singing karaoke at a bar in Cleveland, Ohio?”

Y/N snorts, half folding herself over their table as the snort turns into a full laugh. “Not a chance in hell, Styles!” She says through her laughter, tapping her fingers against the wood table top.

Harry pushes her shoulder, making her sit up again as he tries to convince her. “Come on!  We’ve been singing in the car for two days straight! There’s tons of songs we could do—”

“The car is completely different than a stage!” Y/N argues, shaking her head firmly. “No way!”

“What, are you worried about making a fool of yourself?” Harry raises an eyebrow as he gestures around the bar. “Is there anyone you know in the audience?  The audience that’s full of people who are pissed out of their minds?”

Biting her lip hard for a moment, Y/N gives a reluctant shake of her head. “No.” She mumbles, looking down. “But I just—I don’t sing karaoke.”

“And you didn’t spend five days in the car with me, either.  Until you did, and we had fun.” Harry points a ringed pointer finger at her, and the annoying glint in his eye means he knows he has her trapped. “There is literally no better place to try it than right now, in this bar, where you know no one.”

Y/N glances around the bar, appraising her surroundings.  She knows Harry has a point; besides himself, she knows not a single soul in the building.  They’ll be leaving tomorrow morning, and she won’t ever find herself in this bar—or, honestly, Cleveland, Ohio—again.  If there was ever a time to try karaoke, it would be now.  

And hasn’t this trip been full of trying new things?  New foods, new conversations, new ways of thinking…Y/N finds herself locking eyes with Harry, losing herself in his intense gaze.  Y/N’s not sure what’s swirling around in his irises, whether it’s alcohol or something else entirely, but it’s intoxicating.

Y/N lets out a harsh exhale, pulling the straw out of her drink and downing it entirely in one swift motion. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand as she slams the glass back on the table before looking back at Harry to find a new grin pasted across his pink lips.

“Alright.” Y/N slips off her stool, stumbling for just a moment until Harry catches her elbow. “You go pick the song.” She says, pointing towards the DJ near the stage. “I-I’m going to run to the bathroom.”

Harry nods, catching his lip between his teeth as his hand squeezes her arm. “Are you alright?  You stumbled there—”

“I’m fine!  Perfect, actually.” Y/N assures him, pulling away and walking towards the washroom.  She calls over her shoulder to him as she does. “Go pick the song!  I’ll be back in a moment!”

When Y/N reaches the washroom, she’s surprised to find it empty, and she’s even more surprised when she catches her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Is that really her? She wonders, propping herself up on the counter as she leans closer to examine herself.  Her skin is flushed from the alcohol, all across her cheeks and neck, and it only gets warmer as the heat of the bar finally hits her. Y/N undoes the top few buttons of her plaid shirt, exposing her chest to the air.  Cocking her head to the side, Y/N studies herself for a moment before undoing the rest of the buttons and rolling up the sleeves to wear the shirt like a cardigan, leaving her bralette exposed.  It’s a different look than anything she’s ever done, but…she likes it, she realizes, as her eyes scan over her reflection.  She likes this.  Being somewhere that no one knows her, somewhere filled with people that won’t judge her for drinking too much, somewhere that she doesn’t have to worry about stories getting back to her work.  Y/N likes the wild look in her eyes, the breathlessness stirring inside her, the plumpness of her lips from the ice of her drinks.   When she looks at herself, she sees a different person. Someone she doesn’t recognize. Someone who seems to know what they want.

Her phone vibrating in her back pocket pulls her from her thoughts, and it takes Y/N a moment for her intoxicated self to manage to pull it out.  When she sees Brant’s name flashing on the screen, she only hesitates for one second before hitting decline.  That one second of hesitation, however, is all it takes to make her contemplate herself in the mirror again, second guessing what she sees.  She tucks her phone away before washing her hands, and splashes a little bit of cold water on her cheeks to help cool herself down. Giving herself one last look over, Y/N buttons the few bottom buttons of her shirt back together, tying it into a neat knot to cover her stomach.  Even if no one here knows her…she can’t get too wild.  She still has to be who she is.

After exiting the bathroom, Y/N returns to the table, expecting Harry to be waiting there for her. All she finds, however, is his jacket tossed over the back of his chair, and his now empty pint glass sitting on the table. Y/N turns in a small circle, wondering where he is in the crowd when she hears his slightly slurred voice magnified over the speakers.

“Y/N.  Up here, love, c’mon.”

Y/N turns towards the stage, her eyes wide as she realizes Harry has a microphone in one hand and has the other hand wrapped around the microphone stand.  His smile is practically glowing underneath the stage lights, and his eyes seem to be doing the same.  He releases the mic stand to run a hand through his hair before beckoning her forward.

“Ladies and gentlemen of Cleveland, this—” Harry points towards Y/N, and she almost swears that every person in the bar turns towards her. “This is my very good friend Y/N. And five days ago, she hated my guts!” The crowd boos, and Y/N stares at Harry with incredulous eyes.  What is he doing?

“No, no, don’t boo, it’s alright.  I hated her guts too.” Harry says with a shrug, leaning against the mic stand again. “But everything’s alright now!  We’re getting along, she’s stopped being such a control freak, and she even said she would let me pick a song for us to sing tonight, isn’t that nice?”

The crowd cheers as Y/N walks towards the stage, stopping just before it to stare up at Harry as he continues his drunken monologue.  If she was sober, she’d probably pull him down from the stage, grab the front of his patterned button down shirt, and drag him back to their table.  But the alcohol running through her system is making her bold, and with her head swimming in the amber liquid she’d been consuming, all she can do is laugh and stumble her way to the stairs to the stage.

Someone wearing a t-shirt with the bar’s logo on it helps her up the stairs, handing her a microphone once she makes it onto the stage.  Harry, realizing she’s where she needs to be now, motions to the DJ behind her, and a familiar beat that Y/N can’t place begins to play.

“Harry—” Y/N speaks without raising the microphone to her lips. “What song—?”

“Don’t worry, you know it.” Harry assures her, his eyes flickering over her appearance quickly. “You look great.  Just go with it!”

There’s really no choice but to go with it, she thinks, because within a moment, Harry has a simpering smile on his face as he lifts the microphone to his lips, his body turned towards the audience but his eyes flickering to you.

“‘I wasn’t jealous before we met…now every man I see is a potential threat’.” He sings in a confident voice, and Y/N watches the split second it takes for the crowd to realize he’s actually good.  And it’s not just his voice, she thinks.  It’s his demeanor.  The part of Harry’s personality that had first irritated her, the part that lives for a spotlight, the part that can draw someone in with a snap of a finger…that part shines on a stage.

In contrast, all Y/N can do is stare with a shocked expression painted across her face as Harry continues to serenade the crowd.  He makes eye contact with specific people as he croons the next lines, his hand confidently wrapped around the microphone “‘And I’m possessive, it isn’t nice…you’ve heard me say that smoking is my only voice’.”

It’s then that Harry’s attention turns back to Y/N, his eyelids hooded, half hiding his emerald eyes as he saunters back towards her.  It’s like a switch has flipped in his head, because Y/N is certain that he’s never looked at her in this way before. “‘But now it isn’t true…now everything is new’…” The closer Harry gets to her, the less Y/N can breathe. By the time he’s a foot away from her, she feels like her breaths are stuttering in her chest, giving barely enough oxygen to her body to keep her going.  

Harry, it seems, is unaware of the affect he’s having on her.  His long limbs are loose and free as he continues to move closer, the smirk on his face intertwined with something deeper that Y/N’s drunken mind can’t quite put her finger on. “‘And all I’ve learned, has overturned…I beg of you’…”

The scent of cologne, alcohol, and sweat that emanates from Harry as he gets close enough to press his forehead to hers reminds Y/N exactly where she is, and what she’s supposed to be doing.  Just managing to bring the microphone to her lips in time, Y/N shoves Harry on his shoulder, pushing him away enough that she can walk past him and distance herself. “‘Don’t go wasting your emotion’…” She sings, glancing at him over her shoulder as she moves away.  Harry watches her with darkened eyes, a hungry look on his face as Y/N begins to sway her hips to the music.  It’s fun, she realizes, being on stage like this, and playing the part with Harry as she sets down a challenge. “‘Lay all your love on me’.”

The crowd cheers as Harry begins to take measured steps towards Y/N again, looking like the cat who wants to catch the canary.  Y/N, ever the competitive player, refuses to give in so easily, and quickly extends a hand to two people sitting in front of the stage.  They give her support as she slides down from the platform, working her way through the tables without so much as a glance behind herself at Harry, who she knows is following her.

“‘It was like shooting a sitting duck…a little small talk, a smile and baby I was stuck’.” Y/N finally turns around, pausing her walk to see Harry hopping down from the stage. She points at him slowly, giving a small shake of her head as she sings the next line. “‘I still don’t know what you’ve done to me…a grownup woman should never fall so easily’…”

Harry’s smirk only grows, and he runs a hand haphazardly through his sweaty curls.  He’s enjoying playing the part too, and Y/N can tell by the way he allows her to cross the seating area, so that they’re walking parallel to each other towards the bar.  He’s not chasing her down.  He’s taking his time, knowing that he’ll get her in the end.

“‘I feel a kind of fear…when I don’t have you near’…” Y/N pauses at a table of two men and a woman, leaning down between the latter two.  She only takes her eyes off Harry for a moment to give a questioning look to the man, who gives her a smile of permission.  Y/N runs her fingers across his shoulder and down his arm, but keeps her eyes glued to Harry the entire time. “‘Unsatisfied, I skip my pride…I beg you dear’…”

When he sees Y/N’s fingers trace down the collar of someone else, Harry’s brow furrows in jealousy, his jade eyes shifting even darker than they were before.  He keeps pace with Y/N as she begins to move again, but there’s an air of tension in his saunter that wasn’t there a moment ago.  When he sings, it sounds like half plea, half demand. “‘Don’t go wasting your emotion…lay all your love on me’.” Harry rounds a table of people before beginning to close the distance between him and Y/N, each of them now standing in front of the bar.  With the tension between them now palpable, the crowd is moving out of their way discreetly, watching as the two approach each other. Harry licks his red lips before singing the next line. “‘Don’t go sharing your devotion…lay all your love on me’.”

Y/N releases her bottom lip from between her teeth, running her fingers over the finished wood of the bar before pulling herself to sit atop it.  She crosses her legs carefully before leaning her weight on one hand, giving a small shrug, knowing that Harry’s eyes are glued to her every motion as the bartender pours him a shot. “‘I’ve had a few little love affairs…they didn’t last very long and they’ve been pretty scarce’…”

Harry’s lips wrap around the shot glass, throwing it back just in time to sing the next line as tequila drips from the corner of his mouth.  The drop of alcohol runs down his chin to trace the muscles of his neck, and as Harry pulls himself to sit next to Y/N on the bar, the only thing she wants to do is lean forward and lick the liquor from his skin.

“‘I used to think I was sensible’…” Harry passes a newly poured shot to Y/N, meaning for her to take it from him, and he nearly stutters over his next line as Y/N wraps her hand around his own, guiding him to guide the shot to her mouth.  There’s a sharp intake of air into the microphone before Harry can sing again, and Y/N smirks at the small victory as she wipes her mouth doing her best to hide how the bitter taste of the tequila affects her. “‘It makes the truth even more incomprehensible’.”

Y/N brings her microphone to her mouth again to sing the next verse with Harry, their eyes locked together as they lean forward into each other.  Despite the cheering of the crowd, Y/N can’t help but feel as though she and Harry are the only two in the bar, as if this—very public—performance were small and intimate and just between them.

“‘Because everything is new’…” Harry grips the knot in Y/N’s plaid shirt, easily pulling it undone with one hand.  His eyes break away from hers for only a moment to canvas over her newly exposed midriff and lace bralette before snapping back to her gaze with a renewed vigor. He keeps the tails of the shirt clutched within his strong hand as he begins to lean back on the bar, pulling Y/N down with him.

“‘And everything is you’…” Y/N almost falls over before she catches herself, bracing one hand beside Harry’s head on the bar to support her weight as he lays down fully. She can feel how tightly he’s gripping her shirt by how the hem of it is pressing into her skin, and the pressure of the fabric cues another kind of pressure to begin to curl inside her stomach. When she sucks in a breath, she can taste tequila and Harry’s cologne on her tongue, and she struggles to bite back a whine while Harry wraps her shirt tighter around his hand.

“‘And all I’ve learned has overturned’…” Harry releases the wrinkled fabric of her shirt, his now freed hand trading the cloth for the skin of her exposed waist.  The coolness of his rings against her flushed skin makes Y/N’s breath stutter, and she curls her body over him more in response.  The taste of Harry’s touch has sparked a need to be closer, as well as a new fluttering in her core, and judging by the way Harry keeps licking his lips, he knows it.

Refusing to be the only one affected by their close proximity, Y/N moves her supporting hand from the bar to Harry’s hair, tugging on it harshly as Harry opens his mouth to sing the next line.  As Y/N sings “‘I beg of you’…” with a pleading glance, Harry grunts deep in his throat, just managing to pull the microphone away from his lips so that Y/N is the only one to hear it.

Although getting a reaction out of Harry was her goal, actually hearing that reaction is another story entirely.  Heat rushes to Y/N’s face as Harry grips her waist tighter, pressing her thighs and hips to his own as he guides the two of them to the beat of the music.  The cheering and wolf whistles from the crowd are the only thing that keep Y/N grounded and in the moment, reminding her that—despite how it feels—there are people watching the two of them.

“‘Don’t go wasting your emotion…lay all your love on me’.” Harry grinds his hip against Y/N’s once more, moving them in a steady and consistent pace.  Y/N repositions her body in return, spreading her legs so she can straddle Harry’s hips more easily.  She knows, though, that she needs to start pulling back.  She has to do something to get away from him, to break the trance that his touch has her in, before she does something she’ll regret.

“‘Don’t go sharing your devotion’…” Y/N slowly sits back up, letting go of Harry’s hair in order to trail her free hand down his chest. Although she knows that she’s supposed to be distancing herself from him, she can’t resist digging her nails in just the slightest bit, delighting in the hiss that leaves his mouth. “‘Lay all your love on me’…”

Harry sits up slowly as the key changes, his eyes glued to Y/N’s lips as she sings a line by herself, her voice growing ever so slightly fainter every time Harry tugs on his red lips with his teeth, soothing the mark with his tongue a moment after. “‘Don’t go wasting your emotion…lay all your love on me’…”

Now that they’re both sitting upright, Harry grips their bodies and turns them so that their legs once again dangle off the bar.  Y/N can feel the blood rushing from her head as she drapes her arm over Harry’s shoulder, her eyelids fluttering as Harry digs his fingertips into her waist. “‘Don’t go sharing your devotion’…” Harry’s pupils are so blown that his irises practically look black.  His chest is heaving with every breath, his exposed skin flushed and sweaty.  His curls are a mess from Y/N tangling her fingers in them.  If Y/N didn’t know any better, she’d say Harry looks freshly fucked, and then she wonders if she looks the same.  By the way Harry’s looking at her, she thinks it’s safe to say that she does.

“‘Lay all your love on me’.” They finish together, hungry eyes locked with each other while the wolf whistles and clapping gets louder as the final notes of the song trail off.  This is where they should break apart, Y/N thinks, her chest moving rapidly with every ragged breath she takes.  This is where she should climb off Harry’s lap, climb down from the bar, return the microphones to the DJ, and gather her things and go.  This is the end of whatever the hell just happened during that song.  This is where she says “Harry, we have to be up early tomorrow to drive, so we should go back to the motel.”

To her credit, Y/N tries. She swallows hard, her mouth as dry as it’s ever been, and sucks in another breath, almost whimpering at the taste of his cologne in the back of her throat.  Don’t, she tells herself.  She needs to say what she needs to say.  Their game is done.  It’s over.

“Harry—” She begins, and that’s all she manages to say before Harry is kissing her.

Her body reacts before her mind does, but between the overwhelming sensations all around her and the copious amounts of liquor that her brain is swimming in, Y/N can only register every third movement.  The microphone falling from her hand onto the bar as she tangles her fingers back in Harry’s curls, twisting and pulling and receiving the most delightful gasps from him in return.  Harry’s teeth catching her bottom lip, just barely tugging on the tender flesh. Ringed hands keeping a firm grip on Y/N’s sides as Harry helps her down from the bar, his lips still pressed firmly against her own.  The lingering taste of tequila on Harry’s skin as Y/N kisses down his jaw, unable to completely pull away as Harry struggles to settle their tab with the bartender.

She’s never felt like this before; Y/N didn’t even know it could feel like this.  She didn’t know that she could feel an ache so deep inside her, both painful and pleasurable at the same time, and be so completely aware that the only cure for it is the touch of another person.  Y/N had been convinced that this rush was something that was fiction, made up by steamy romance novels to entice lonely housewives to dive beneath their pages. And yet here she is, stumbling out of a bar in Cleveland, Ohio, with Harry Styles, someone that she swore up and down that she hated five days ago.  Here she is with Harry’s jacket draped over her heated shoulders, his hands slipped underneath, rubbing at her exposed skin as he guides her back to the motel.  Here she is with his lips connected to her neck the moment their motel room door is closed, his fingers fumbling with the locks on the door as he refuses to pull away from her.

Yes, Y/N thinks, as she grinds her hips against Harry’s, relishing in the strangled moan that he breathes into her mouth: it’s never felt like this.

“Y/N—” Each pant of her name from his lips sounds like a song. “Fuck, Y/N—” Harry pulls back from her just enough to suck in a full breath, the first in what feels like hours. “I—we—”

“Shut up.” Y/N uses her grip on his hair to pull his head back, trailing open mouthed kisses over his jugular. “Just shut up, Harry, I need—I just need—”

“Need what?” Harry demands, eyes dark as he pushes himself away from her.  An involuntary whine at the loss of contact escapes from Y/N’s throat, and Harry has to steel himself again before he can continue. “What do you need?” He asks, struggling to keep his voice controlled. “You—you have to tell me, so that—I need you to be clear.”

Y/N licks over her swollen lips, eyes blown wide with lust as she stares up at Harry, struggling to find the words.  “I need…” She swallows once more, inhaling sharply as he grips her shoulders to steady her. “I need you, Harry.  Just fuck me. I-I need you to—”

Before she can finish her request, Harry has scooped her up into his arms, tossing her on the creaking motel bed as if she were a rag doll.  A gasp of shock leaves Y/N’s mouth, and she’s barely managed to sit up before Harry is caging his body over hers, forcing her back down as he kisses her hard.

Y/N’s hands go straight to the hem of his shirt, tugging roughly on the fabric, shoving it up Harry’s body before he gets the clue to half sit up and pull it off himself. After that, it’s a rush to remove clothes, each of them blindly pulling off shirts and bras and pants.  Everything is rushed, and that’s what Y/N wants. She doesn’t want time to lay down and explore, and allow herself space to second guess her decision.  All she wants is Harry to do something about the ache in her core, to fill her up so completely that she’ll be feeling him for days. It’s that need that makes Y/N tug on his hair to get his attention as he begins to kiss her thighs.

“No.” She shakes her head haphazardly, and the room spins slightly when she finishes the motion. “No, I just—I just need you to fuck me.  I’m ready, Harry—”

“But—” His teeth tug roughly on his bottom lip, mimicking Y/N’s actions from moments ago. “I want to taste—”

“Please, Harry.” Y/N whines, throwing her head back on the motel pillow. “It’s been so long since I’ve been full…please…”

The lewd admission catches Harry off guard. “Fucking hell—” He spits out, his hands tugging on his hair as he sits up. “Yeah, I—okay.” He closes his eyes for a moment to steady himself, the struggle to have a coherent thought clear on his face. “Okay, I need…”

Harry’s eyes begin to search the room, and the moment they settle on his bag in the corner, he rushes towards it.  Y/N watches the muscles in his back shift beneath his smooth skin as he unzips the bag, rummaging through it before pulling out a tiny foil square.  He tucks the package between his teeth as his hands fumble with his belt, undoing it quickly and pulling it off to toss to the floor.  He undoes his button and fly as he climbs back onto the bed, doing his best to waste no time as he situates himself between Y/N’s still spread legs.  

“Y’look so hot like this, y’know that?” He can’t stop himself from muttering the words as he pulls his pants down just enough to free his cock.  Y/N stares hungrily at how swollen he is, only half listening to Harry’s words as she watches his hand stroke himself, the other lifting the condom package to his teeth.  He tears the foil open, spitting the little tag from his mouth as he removes the condom from the foil.  That foil is soon tossed to the ground before Harry gives himself one last stroke, quickly but carefully rolling the condom down the length of his shaft.

Placing his hands on either knee, Harry spreads Y/N’s legs even wider, his eyes greedily taking in the sight of her bare core. “You’re dripping.” Harry says in a low voice, and before Y/N can reply with anything, he runs a ringed finger over her folds and slips it into his mouth.

“Ah—!” Y/N gasps at the unexpected sensation, the minimal contact enough to send her reeling. Harry grins at the response, loving how the pleasure from the small action is clearly written across her face.

“Sorry.” He says with a small shrug, lining himself up with her entrance. “Just wanted a little taste, tha’s all.  Couldn’t resist.” Harry drags the tip of his cock along Y/N’s slick core, a look of concentration overtaking his features. “I’ll go slow—”

A sound of protest leaves Y/N’s mouth. “No.  Go fast. I need it, Harry, please—” Her plea is cut off by Harry thrusting inside her with one sharp movement, and then Y/N stops talking completely.

There’s a slight feeling of pain, as she wasn’t lying when she said it’s been a while since she’s been with someone, but underneath that pain, pleasure is quickly building as Harry begins to snap his hips towards hers, finding a rhythm within a few thrusts. Y/N knows immediately that Harry is probably one of the largest men—if not the largest man—she’s ever been with, but that’s exactly what she needs right now.  The moment he filled her for the first time, there was a feeling of completeness that she’s been missing in her life for a long time.  She needed this, she thinks.  She needed to be stretched, to be filled, to be fucked, and Harry is the only one that could have fulfilled those needs this well. She’s convinced of it.

It’s far from the most romantic sex Y/N’s ever had; it’s all teeth clacking, biting, scratching, tugging, and growling.  And she knows that she should be concerned about how Harry’s teeth biting down on her shoulder is going to leave marks, especially when she has to wear a bridesmaid dress in less than 48 hours.  But all of that is exactly what she needs.  She doesn’t want Harry to whisper how much he loves her, how close he feels to her, how happy he is to be with her.  She doesn’t want to hear him say anything, except—

“Feel so fucking good around my cock.” He growls, his fingertips digging deeper into the flesh of her hips. “So bloody tight, Y/N…”

A sharp gasp tumbles out of Y/N’s throat as Harry swivels his hips, finding the exact spot she needs him the most. “Oh God, Harry, I—” Y/N scratches her nails down his back, surely leaving a trail of angry red marks in her place, as her other hand twists the sheets within her grip. “Fuck, right there, right there, right there—”

“Feels good, yeah? You like it?” Harry manages to bring a hand to her hair, tangling it within her locks and pulling hard. “Tell me.” His voice is so much lower than she’s ever heard it, his accent so much thicker, and the combination sends Y/N’s eyes rolling into the back of her head. “Tell me how much you love my cock, and—fuck—how much you love me fucking you.”

Y/N’s mouth falls open, a strangled whine echoing from the back of her throat as the head of Harry’s cock presses against her G-spot again. “I-I love it, Harry, I—your cock fills me so well—don’t stop, please don’t stop—!”

Using her moans as fuel, Harry begins to thrust faster, tugging on Y/N’s hair one last time before grasping her hips between his hands to gain more control.  If his flushed skin and the sweat covering his entire body is any indication, Y/N can tell that Harry is just as close as she is.  Her breathing quickens just as the sound of the bed creaking does, and she brings one hand down to her clit to rub fast circles, desperate to reach her release.

“Harry—” She gasps for what seems the millionth time that night, her body shuddering as she pushes closer and closer to the edge. “I’m so fucking close, Harry, please—”

The growl that falls from Harry’s mouth almost doesn’t sound like him.  It’s deeper, more animalistic, and so unlike the careful and slow voice that she’s gotten used to over the last five days.  Releasing one hand from her hip, he pushes her hand out of the way, replacing her fingers with his own to rub circles over her clit. “Cum for me, Y/N. I know you need it, baby, so just—” Harry groans as her walls squeeze his length. “Just cum.”

The command combined with his motions is all it takes to push Y/N over the edge.  A breathless gasp falls from her open mouth, and she screws her eyes shut as pleasure courses through her body.  It’s so much more intense than anything she��s felt before, so much more pleasurable, so much more dizzying, and just so much more. Small whimpers and Harry’s name are the only things she can think to say as her orgasm makes her movements stutter before falling limply back onto the bed.

“Fuck—” Harry moans roughly as he kisses her one more time, his mouth falling open against hers as her orgasm triggers his own.  Although the rhythm of his thrusts stutters, they don’t completely stop, and he continues to slam his hips against her own as he rides out his orgasm. “That’s it, baby—squeeze me tight—” Harry pants into Y/N’s mouth, barely registering anything he’s saying, let alone the pet name that’s begun to fall from his lips. “Christ…”

Things become a blur after that.  After Harry pulls out, all Y/N can focus on is how empty she feels without his thick cock filling her to the brim, and she doesn’t even realize that he’s gotten off the bed until he returns, his weight causing the whole bed frame to creak once more. With both of them so sweaty, Harry only pulls the top sheet over their panting bodies, pressing his head into the crook of Y/N’s neck as his eyes close.

Neither of them says anything, and for multiple reasons.  What exactly is there to say?  And, more pressing, what exactly is Y/N capable of saying right now?  There are no words running through her mind. All she can do is think in terms of physical contact and needs, and those two things tell her everything she knows in this moment.  She knows that Harry is in just his boxers now because she can’t feel the rough fabric of his pants against her bare skin.  She knows that she needs his hands on her, cupping her breasts the way he is. She knows that if he were to move away from her, she’d go chasing after him.  She knows that she’s completely worn out—completely fucked out, really—and above all else, she knows that whatever needs to be discussed between them can be discussed the next morning.

Harry, however, seems to have a different approach.  His face still pressed into her neck, he mumbles something against her sweat soaked skin, low and deep and completely inaudible.  Y/N feels an open mouthed kiss pressed to her neck, and then hears another mumble, this one even quieter than the last.

“Hm?” Y/N barely manages to hum the syllable in her exhaustion.

There’s no response, no repeat of the quiet phrases, and it takes Y/N a few minutes of feeling Harry’s breathing even out to realize that he’s fallen asleep.  If she were sober and had the mental capacity to examine things, Y/N would wonder what it was that Harry whispered into her skin.  But her brain is swimming in exhaustion and endorphins and tequila, and the only thing she can do is close her eyes and allow her breathing to sync up with the rise and fall of Harry’s chest.

…

The first thing Y/N registers the next morning is the shrill ringing of her cell phone, which somehow made its way to the bedside table in her drunken fervour the night before. The second thing she registers is the pounding of her head, like she can feel each pump of blood to her brain, and the uncomfortably dry feeling in her mouth, as if it’s been stuffed full of cotton. The third thing Y/N registers is—

“Christ.” Harry groans into her neck, his voice raspy from sleep and laced with irritation. “God, who is calling right now?”

Right.  The third thing she registers, probably the most complicated of all, Y/N thinks, is just how much of Harry’s taut and tattooed bare skin is pressed against her own.  His strong arms are thrown over her waist, clutching her tight to his chest. In the back of her mind, she’s vaguely aware of the chain of Harry’s cross pressing into her breast, probably leaving a small red indentation along with the other marks he left on her last night.

Last night.

Y/N lets out a small whine as the previous evening comes rushing back to her.  It’s a blur of alcohol, ABBA, and Harry.  Harry is everywhere, in every blurred picture her hungover brain can conjure.  Laughing at her from across the table.  Smirking at her on stage.  Staring at her with a hungry look in his eyes as he pulled her down on top of him on the bar, grinding his hips into hers.  Kissing her.  Kissing her multiple times.  Coming back to their room with his hands leaving scorching imprints over every inch of her.  And now, him laying next to her, clutching the two of them together like they’ve always done this.  Like it’s natural.

The phone rings again, louder than the last time, and Harry curses under his breath, the short exhale of air leaving goosebumps along Y/N’s neck.  He lifts his head just barely as he reaches across Y/N’s body, grabbing her phone from the bedside table and not bothering to check the caller ID as he answers.

“Hello?” He says, the rasp of sleep still clear his voice.  Within three seconds, Harry’s entire body tenses against Y/N, his arm constricting around her waist enough to shift her on the bed.

Y/N lifts her head up when she feels the change, finally opening her eyes just enough to read the change in Harry’s body language.  What she finds are dark and stormy green eyes, a swollen red mouth pressed into a thin line, and a deep crease between his furrowed brow, all of it such a contrast from the hazy memories of him the night before.

“I—yeah, she’s right here.” Harry mutters, his eyes snapping to Y/N’s face for just a moment. “I’ll—oh. Yeah, no, the trip’s been…good. Yeah.  Not too much traffic.” His arm moves off her waist as he pulls away from her, rolling onto his back as the bed creaks beneath them.  With his newly freed hand, Harry covers his eyes, rubbing them for a moment as the irritation on his face grows. “Yeah, it was nice of me to give her a ride.  Yeah.” He sucks in a breath. “Well, she’s—she’s awake now.  Here.  I’ll let you two talk.”

Y/N props herself up on one elbow, careful to keep the sheet pressed to her chest so that she’s not exposed. She knows that Harry’s already seen everything, touched everything, and kissed everything, but the sudden change in his demeanor is telling her that she needs to be guarded, even if she has no idea what caused it.

Harry holds out her phone for her, his face stony as Y/N slowly accepts it. “Harry—?” She begins, but he just gives a rough jerk of his head, and offers no other explanation.

Eyes still glued to Harry’s face, Y/N brings the phone to her ear, clearing the sleep from her voice. “Hello?”

“Hi.” The familiar cadence of Brant’s voice crackles through the phone speaker, an indication of how far away he is from her. “It’s good to finally hear your voice; I haven’t been able to catch you the last few days.”

Y/N keeps her eyes on Harry as her body goes cold, pressing the sheet tighter to her chest. “Brant.” She whispers his name unintentionally; her body won’t allow her to say it any louder. “Hi.”

At the sound of Brant’s voice leaving her lips, Harry throws the covers off of himself, jerkily pulling himself off of the low motel room bed.  He snatches his jeans off the floor, and doesn’t give Y/N another glance as he walks to the small bathroom, slamming the door behind himself.

“Hi.” Brant says again, completely unaware of what’s happening on the other end of the telephone line. “I’ve missed you.  Where are you now?”

“Uh, Cleveland.” Y/N says weakly, stumbling her way out of the bed to her duffel bag.  She grabs a new bra and t-shirt, along with her comfiest pair of pants.  Without Harry beside her, she’s freezing. “Today’s our last day of driving.”

“Oh, well, that’s good.” Brant replies easily. “The wedding is tomorrow, then?”

“Mhmm.” Y/N’s eyes flicker to the bathroom as the sound of the shower starting travels through the wood of the door. “And tonight is the rehearsal dinner.”

Brant makes a sound of acknowledgement on the other end of the phone. “That’ll be nice!  Do you know if you’re flying back?”

“Uh—” Y/N pauses her movements, her pants half pulled up her legs.  That, honestly, is a good question, and one which seems as though the answer is changing with every passing moment. “I guess I’ll call the airline and…see if I can fly back.  Maybe the storms will have passed.”

“You must have driven through them, right?  In Utah, or wherever they were?” Brant asks curiously. “Did they seem that bad? Honestly, I’ve always found thunder to be relaxing.  I think most people do.”

Y/N tugs her t-shirt over her head with one hand, accidentally bumping her chin as she does so.  The motion causes her to bite down on her tongue, and she lets out a curse under her breath, not even bothering to correct Brant.  It doesn’t matter, she thinks.  He probably wouldn’t remember. “Yeah.  Relaxing.”

The sound of the shower turning off catches her attention, distracting her from what Brant says next. “I—sorry—” She mutters in a distracted tone, raking her fingers through her sleep and sex mussed hair. “What was that?”

“I said let me know when you’re on your way back from New York, so I’ll make us a dinner reservation.” Brant repeats himself without suspicion of Y/N’s distracted tone. “We just got some new files at work that I think you’ll be very interested in.”

The bathroom door creaks open, and Harry emerges from the cloud of shower steam.  He’s dressed in just his pants, his marked chest still damp from the shower.  Although he catches Y/N’s eye for a moment, he quickly looks away, rubbing his towel through his wet curls as he turns to search for a shirt.  The red marks of Y/N’s nails are prominent on his otherwise unmarked back.

“Dinner?” Y/N repeats slowly, chewing on her cuticle as she takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “Are you—you still want to get dinner?”

“Of course.  I enjoy our weekly dinners, don’t you?” Brant asks, confusion finally slipping into his voice. “I’ve missed them.”

“I—” Y/N clears her throat, rubbing her thumb absentmindedly over her bottom lip. “Okay.  Yeah.  Dinner. I’ll, um, I’ll let you know when I book a flight home.”

“Sounds wonderful. Well, I’ll let you get on the road. Let me know when you’re available.” Brant’s voice already sounds more and more distant. “Goodbye.”

“Bye.” Y/N replies lamely, letting her phone drop to the crumpled bed sheets.

There’s a rustling behind her, the sound of a belt clicking, of the zipper on a duffel bag being pulled shut.  Y/N waits for a moment, to give Harry the chance to say something to her, but nothing comes.  Finally, she twists around on the bed, her nerves running on high.

Harry is completely dressed now, a black t-shirt covering his previously bare chest, and he’s tied his familiar green bandana into his damp chestnut locks.  His sunglasses are hanging on the neck of his shirt, but even without them covering his emerald eyes, Y/N can’t decipher anything that’s swirling within them.

“That—that was Brant.” She says finally, scratching a nail over the palm of her hand.

Harry jerks his head in a nod as he shoulders his duffel bag. “Yeah.  I heard.” Tapping his fingers against the leather strap, he finally spares a glance at Y/N. “He wants to take you to dinner, huh?”

Running her teeth along her bottom lip, Y/N takes a moment before she replies. “Harry, I—”

“I’ll be in the car.” He mutters, taking long strides to the door and unlocking it with a harsh turn of his hand. “Just hurry up, yeah?  I want to get on the road soon, so we’re not late to the rehearsal dinner.”

When he slams the door behind him, Y/N breaks.

…

And just like that, it’s like they’re back at square one.

It really feels like the first day all over again, Y/N thinks, in every sense of the sentiment. From the way she and Harry sit in silence, each avoiding the other’s gaze, to how every single one of Harry’s movements is filled with a tight and tense irritation.  Even the sound of Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer” is familiar, echoing through the speakers of the car like a soundtrack to an old memory.  

After four hours, the silence is finally getting to her.  She can’t stop shifting in her seat, her muscles seizing from hours on end in the same position—although, frankly, her soreness may partially be a result of her and Harry’s activities from the night before—and with every short and hard breath Harry sighs, Y/N gets more and more antsy.

“Harry.” She says finally, risking a glance at him from the corner of her eye.  He has one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the stick shift, both grips tight enough to stretch his skin over the bones of his knuckles until it goes white.  At the sound of Y/N’s voice, his jaw flexes, but he shows no other evidence that he heard her.

A frustrated sigh falls past Y/N’s lips. “Harry.” She says again, firmer this time. “Are you going to ignore me all the way to the Catskills?”

Realizing that he can’t feign deafness, Harry lets his shoulders lift once and drop down again in a quick motion. “’M not ignoring you.” He mutters, keeping his eyes glued to the road.

“We’re not talking. At all.” Y/N taps her fingers against her knee, just slightly off the beat of the music. “Shouldn’t we talk about what happened?”

“Why?” Harry asks, his voice flatter than she’s ever heard it. “What’s there to talk about?”

Y/N twists her body in her seat, her seat belt nearly cutting into her throat with how quickly she moves. “What the hell do you mean, what’s there to talk about?  There’s plenty!  Last night—”

Harry cuts over her with a sharp tone, still refusing to look away from the road. “Last night we got drunk, and we made a mistake.” His grip tightens even more on the gear shift as he moves it to accelerate the car. “And it shouldn’t have happened.”

It takes a few moment for the words to register in her brain, and Y/N blinks slowly as the process unfolds. “You think it was a mistake?” She tries to ask the question as nonchalantly as possible.

“I do.” Harry nods tightly, and while Y/N thinks that she can detect something else underneath his tone, his dark sunglasses hide the truth of his thoughts from her. “We got caught up with trying to—to pretend we’re not who we are.  But we know who we are.”

If Y/N’s brain couldn’t process Harry’s words a moment ago, it’s working in overdrive now as she draws a million different conclusions from the conversation.  What the fuck does “we know who we are” mean?  Wasn’t the whole point of this trip—the long lesson they’d learned together—that both of them were different than the other had thought? Hadn’t Harry proved to her, over and over, how he was so much more considerate and empathetic than she’d previously imagined?  Hadn’t she shown him that she wasn’t the Ice Queen he thought she was, wasn’t as controlling, wasn’t as perfect?  Hadn’t that been a good thing?  Hadn’t they bonded at roadside fruit stands, small souvenir shacks, ghost town gas stations, and dingy motel rooms?

But maybe…maybe she had imagined all of that, because the way that Harry is actively avoiding her gaze is telling her that he isn’t thinking the same thing.  Everything from his body language, to his tone of voice, to his attitude, is telling her that he’s just as stubborn and closed off as he was when they first met.  He hasn’t changed.  If he had, he wouldn’t be refusing to do something as simple as look at her.

Still, something about the interaction doesn’t sit right with Y/N.  Although she turns to face the windshield again, she keeps Harry in the corner of her gaze. “Is this…” She swallows hard. “Does this have something to do with Brant calling?”

A harsh snort is all the response she gets. “Christ, no.  Trust me, nothing that prick can do has that much of an affect on me.” Even from behind his sunglasses, Y/N can tell that Harry is rolling his eyes. “Although I suppose it is a reminder of where you belong.”

A flash of irritation rips up Y/N’s spine. “A reminder of what?” She repeats, eyes narrowing.

“You heard me, Y/N, don’t make me say it again.” Harry taps a finger to the song, perfectly on the beat. They’re out of sync, Y/N realizes. Had they ever been in sync?

No, she decides.  They hadn’t.  She’d just been fooling herself.  Being in the car for five days with only Harry for company had deluded her, but soon she’d be with Jo, and a million other people, and when she’s not in stuck in Harry’s car, smelling Harry’s cologne, listening to Harry’s music, she’ll have a clear head.  She’ll be able to think straight.

“Fine.” Y/N crosses her arms firmly over her chest, leaning her head against the cool glass of the passenger window.  A sign welcoming them to the state of New York whizzes past. “I won’t make you say it again.  You don’t have to say anything.”

…

“So?  What do you think?”

Y/N steps over the threshold of the cozy cabin, analyzing every little detail of the room as quickly as she can.  The interior seems to be one open concept room, cleverly split up with small architectural dividers.  The living room and kitchen flowed into each other smoothly, with a kitchen island dividing the space.  To the left of the living room is a small reading nook, holding a comfortable looking wicker swing chair and a half-size bookshelf that seems to be well stocked. Separating the reading nook from the rest of the cabin is the staircase, which Y/N presumes leads up to the master bedroom and bathroom that’s lofted above on the halved second floor. Between the wall of windows giving a beautiful view of the forest, the fire quietly cracking in the living room, and the potted plants scattered around the cabin, Y/N has to admit that she thinks she could live in this space for the rest of her life.

“It’s beautiful, Jo.” She finally replies, setting down her suitcase and duffel bag as she continues to look around.  She walks to the living room first, brushing her fingers over the cable knit blanket that’s draped over the back of the comfortable looking couch. “Is this for you and Laure?”

“Nope.  It’s for me and you.” Jo replies, walking to the kitchen and opening the fridge.  She pulls out a bottle of rosé, motioning over her shoulder to the cupboard. “Grab a couple wine glasses, would you?”

Y/N crosses to the kitchen, searching through the cupboards until she finds the glasses.  Setting them down on the island, she gives Jo a confused look. “Me and you?”

Jo gives her a familiar grin as she uncorks the wine, and the sight of it lights a warm fire in Y/N’s chest.  It feels like home. “It’s tradition for the bride not to see the bride before the wedding, isn’t it?  So after the rehearsal dinner, Laure and I will say goodbye until the ceremony tomorrow, and you and I—” She fills Y/N’s glass liberally. “Will have one last night of single girl fun.  And then you can have the cabin to yourself tomorrow night, because I will be on my honeymoon, and, hopefully, getting laid.”

Y/N smiles back at her as she lifts her glass, clinking it against Jo’s. “Sounds like a plan.” After taking a long sip, Y/N leans her elbows on the counter, propping her head in her hands. “I can’t believe you’re getting married tomorrow.  Married!”

“Yeah, well, that’s old news.” Jo waves her hand as she lowers her wine glass from her lips, her inquisitive eyes alight with mischief. “I’d rather know how the trip with Harry was. Are you two finally getting along? The last time I called, you actually sounded like you were enjoying yourself.”

Y/N pauses with her wine glass half lifted to her lips.  Part of her wants to tell Jo everything, because she always tells Jo everything. It feels wrong to have a secret from her.  But then again, she’s never had a reason to have a secret before.  Right now, however…the last thing Jo and Laure need the night before their wedding—three hours before the rehearsal dinner—is to be stressed because the maid of honour and the best man had a drunken one night stand in Cleveland, Ohio.  

“I wouldn’t say we’re getting along.” Y/N says diplomatically, taking a sip of wine between her words. “We’re…a bit better, I suppose.  But we’re not that close.”

“Really?” When Jo raises an eyebrow, Y/N almost swears that she can detect a hint of disappointment in her voice. “But Harry said—”

“He said what?” Y/N asks quickly, the diplomatic tone disappearing immediately.

Jo tugs on her bottom lip as she gives a small shrug of her shoulders. “Nothing, I guess.  I don’t know.  I overheard him and Laure talking last night, but I couldn’t really make much of it out.  It sounded like you two were at a bar.”

The new information makes Y/N pause.  Harry had called Laure while they were at the bar last night.  Harry had felt the need to call Laure while they were at the bar last night.  What had been so urgent, so pressing, that he needed to speak to her right then and there?

“A bar, yeah.” Y/N finally replies after a moment. “It was alright.  We just had a couple drinks to relax from being in the car.”

“Just drinks?  That’s all?  Nothing else?”

Y/N clears her throat, gulping down the rest of her wine before answering. “That’s it.  Nothing else.”

…

“Here you go, Miss Bride.” Y/N grins at Jo as she tops off her mimosa, fixing the tie of her pink silk robe as she settles back down in her chair. “Something to relax you, yeah?”

Jo glances up at Y/N, her pen pausing over the page of her notebook.  She’s careful when she moves her head, so as not to disturb the hairstylist that’s carefully curling her hair, but still manages to meet Y/N’s eye. “I’m relaxed.” She argues, but takes a sip of the drink nonetheless. “I just love mimosas.  You can’t blame me for that.”

Y/N gives a slight shrug as she brushes a strand of her own carefully styled hair over her shoulder. Jo, being Jo, had insisted on sleeping in as much as she could that morning, so when the hair and makeup lady had arrived two hours ago, Y/N had been the first one to get made over. Which, honestly, she quite enjoyed, but the real feat would be remaining picture perfect until the ceremony, which is still two hours away.

“Will you do something for me?” Jo asks suddenly, her pen still scratching over her notebook.  She finishes signing her name with a messy signature, waiting until the hairdresser has paused her movements to rip the page from the notebook and fold it up.  She quickly writes Laure’s name on the front and extends the note to Y/N. “Will you bring this to Laure?”

Although Y/N accepts the note from her automatically, there’s a flicker of hesitation in her voice. “This isn’t an explanation of why you’re leaving her at the altar, is it?”

Jo flips Y/N off with an elegantly painted fingernail. “No, you jerk.  We agreed to write letters to each other right before the wedding.  As a little keepsake.”

A sudden lump develops in Y/N’s throat as she turns the note over in her hands, her mind flickering back to the last time she’d read something Jo wrote for Laure.  How Harry’s voice had sounded reciting Laure’s words for Jo. “You two are sickeningly sweet, you know that?” Y/N finishes her mimosa before standing up, tightening her robe once again. “I’ll take it to her now. Where’s her cabin?”

“Just down the path towards the resort.  Take a left when you reach the arrow sign.” Jo instructs her, setting her notebook down beside her before relaxing back into her chair.  Her eyes close as the hairdresser continues styling her hair. “You’ll find it.”

Y/N nods, slipping on her scuffed up Vans before dashing outside.  When the slight chill in the morning air hits her, she pulls her silk dressing gown around her tighter, and debates whether or not she should grab a proper jacket.  She decides against it, however, and ignores the goosebumps popping up on her bare legs as she begins to walk down the path Jo mentioned.

It’s a quiet and calm morning, and Y/N can hear birds chirping and flittering through the pine trees around them.  The trees themselves add a wonderful scent to the air, in addition to the faint smell that indicates it may rain later.  Glancing up, Y/N can see that the sky is overcast, giving another indication of future weather patterns.  A small sigh escapes her.  A storm would be just the thing that’s needed today, she thinks wryly.  

When Y/N reaches the arrow sign, which points towards the lake, the main resort building, and the cabins, she takes a sharp left.  And practically slams into Harry’s chest.

On instinct, Harry’s strong hands grip her arms, steadying her as she stumbles back from him.  Y/N’s eyes widen as she registers who she almost walked into, and she can tell Harry is just realizing it’s her.  His grip on her tightens for just a moment before it releases, and he takes a step back from her, creating space between their bodies.

“Sorry.” Y/N says after a moment, clearing her throat. “I was just—”

“Yeah.” Harry holds up his hand, and for the first time Y/N realizes that he’s holding a note identical to hers. “You’re on messenger duty too, huh?”

Biting her lip, Y/N nods slowly, holding up her own note. “Mhmm.”

The two of them stare at each other for a moment, and Y/N doesn’t miss how Harry’s green irises pause during his scan of her bare legs.  Crossing her ankles together, Y/N lets her eyes wander too, admiring for a moment how Harry’s grey sweatpants cling to his hips.  But only for a moment.

“Well, here.” Y/N pushes the note towards him, taking the note that he trades her in return. “How’s Laure doing?”

Harry gives a half shrug, turning Jo’s note over and over in his fingers. “Pretty decent, except she won’t eat anything.  Says she’s too nervous.”

Y/N cracks a small smile at the image of Laure, someone who is usually so self assured and confident, being too nervous about anything. “Tell her she can’t have a drink until she eats.  That’s how I got some toast into Jo.”

“I’ll do that.” Harry says with a terse nod.  

A beat of silence falls between the two of them, the only sounds audible being the chirping of birds and the wind in the trees.  The latter sends a shiver through Y/N, and she wraps her arms around herself to rub her bare skin, trying to find a bit of warmth in the shade of the forest.

A crease appears between Harry’s brow as he registers the motion, and he quickly shrugs off his own jacket.  Before Y/N can refuse, he’s draping the fabric around her shoulders, careful not to touch any bare skin.

Although Y/N fixes the drape of the jacket, her mouth opens to protest. “Harry—”

“I should go.  I have to give this to Laure, and get her to eat something.” Harry’s voice is gruff as he takes a step back. “I suppose I’ll…see you at the wedding?”

Y/N nods slowly, her fingers still grazing over the hem of the jacket. “Yeah.” She should say more, she thinks.  She should voice her anger, or her hurt, or whatever the hell it is that’s curdling like a hot ball of lead inside her stomach, but she can’t think of the words. “Yeah, I—” I’m sorry.  I miss you. I wish I could take it back.  I wish I could do things over. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”

…

“Uh, hello.  Can everyone hear me?”

Y/N watches with expectant eyes as Harry leans forward over the podium, his pink lips brushing against the microphone for just a moment before he takes a step back.  He looks so different than the last time she’d seen him with a microphone, she thinks.  He’s dressed so much more formally, in a striking emerald suit that matches the colour palette of the wedding, along with Y/N’s dress.  His cheeks are flushed from champagne, his eyes bright, but there’s a hint of nerves under his thick accent.  

Harry raises his fist to his mouth, clearing his throat quietly as he unfolds a piece of paper and smooths it on the podium. “For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Harry Styles.  I have had the honour of being Laure’s best man today, as well as her best friend since we were teenagers.” Harry pauses his speech to smile at Laure, the fondness for the bride apparent in his eyes. “We’ve been through a lot together—I’ve watched her go through a lot, too—and she’s always come out on the other side better than ever.  An example of this is when she made the decision—after living in England her whole life, never leaving, living in the same small brownstone for eighteen years—to move to America for university.”

Y/N lifts her champagne to her lips, taking a small sip while keeping her eyes glued to Harry.  The more he talks, the more relaxed he appears, as he naturally falls into the role of a performer again.  Out of the corner of her eye, she can practically see him charming every woman in the room, and it takes all her concentration not to roll her eyes.

“She’d made the decision a bit impulsively, and—in true Laure fashion—stuck to it like the stubborn person she is.” Harry laughs lightly, shaking his head at the memory as Jo nods in agreement beside Y/N. “She was so certain that moving was what she wanted, so determined to do it—and then the night before her flight, she showed up at my house in tears, talking about how she couldn’t possibly go through with the move.  She couldn’t leave behind everything she’d known.” Glancing down at his notes for a moment, Harry takes a deep breath before continuing. “It freaked me out a bit, I won’t lie.  To see someone who’s usually so sure of themselves question such a big decision. But I assured her that everything would be fine, that moving forward was always scary, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t the right thing to do.  Life always pushes us forward, whether we’re ready for it or not.  So Laure left, and a month later, I decided to go visit her in America, expecting to find her incredibly homesick, in tears, a mess.” A small smile begins to play at the corner of Harry’s lip. “Instead, I arrived to find her adjusted, happy, and about to go on a date with a girl she had met named Jo.”

A laugh ripples through the wedding guests, and Y/N can’t help but smile in spite of herself.  

“And I, uh…I was at a loss for words that day.” Harry’s eyes flicker to the head table, settling on the two brides with a happy smile, and yet…something in his eyes looks flatter, like he’s trapped in a deep thought. “I thought I was going to visit my friend, and comfort her, and instead I found her on a date, completely fine.  She didn’t need me to comfort her.  She was—and still is—so incredibly resilient. She always has been.”

Harry’s eyes travel again, but this time, they settle on Y/N.  She shifts in her seat as he looks her over, his eyes phasing emotions again while his tongue swipes over his lips quickly. “So anyways—” Harry quickly looks away when he catches Y/N’s eye, turning his attention back to the audience of wedding guests. “I suppose I’m the one to thank for this marriage, because if I hadn’t pushed Laure to come to America, she would never have met Jo.” An easygoing smile pulls at his pink lips as the crowd laughs lightly. “And now, Laure…you’re at that same place again.  A new beginning.  Except this time, you’re not alone.  You managed to find something that most of us…” Harry hesitates again. “Most of us spend our entire lives searching for, and when we find it, we manage to f—screw it up.” His eyes flicker to Laure’s grandmother when he catches the curse word, and Y/N hides a small laugh behind her champagne glass. “But you didn’t. You and Jo…you’re lucky.  You figured out what you wanted, and you didn’t let anything—fear, anxiety, or your…your own pride—” Harry swallows hard, his eyes flickering to Y/N once more, and the glance makes her skin burn beneath her dress. “—stop you.  You’re both an inspiration to all of us.  I love you two.  To Jo and Laure!”

Y/N murmurs the toast with the rest of the crowd, raising her glass of champagne and draining it as her head spins with Harry’s words.  A waiter walks by and quickly refills the glass, grazing by Harry as he makes his way back to his seat on Laure’s right side.  Y/N barely gives herself a moment to catch his unreadable emerald eyes before she stands, carefully picking up the hem of her dress as she walks to the podium. It’s her turn now.

Stepping up to the microphone, Y/N clears her throat, resting her free hand against the wood to steady herself. “Thank you, Harry, that was…lovely.” Y/N begins, allowing herself one more stolen look at him.  His brow is furrowed, hands folded together over the cream tablecloth as his eyes focus on her.

“My name is Y/N, and I’m the maid of honour.  Jo and I have been best friends since the first day of kindergarten, when she punched a boy in the nose for me, which, funnily enough, wasn’t the last time she’d have to do that.” A laugh rolls through the room, and Y/N gives an endeared look to Jo’s sheepish grin before turning to face the wedding guests again. “I’ve had the good fortune of having her on my side from day one, and…I know just how lucky that makes me.  There’s so many times where I’d…I wouldn’t have been able to handle what life threw at me if I didn’t have Jo with me.  She’s kind, and compassionate, and fiery, and just…the very best person I know. And if you know her, then I’m sure you’d agree.”

Y/N takes a moment to breathe, her parched tongue swiping quickly over her lips. “I’ve, um, I’ve never been a perfect person.  I’ve never been very good at…articulating what I feel, or—or making a hard choice. I’ve always followed a safer path, out of…fear, I suppose.” Not for the first time since she began talking, Y/N’s eyes travel to Harry.  He still has the same stoic expression over his features, but his eyes…she can tell he’s hanging on every word she’s saying, and is analyzing every syllable.

“But Jo has never done that.” Y/N continues, shaking her gaze from Harry to settle on her best friend. “Even when she’s been afraid, she’s pushed forward, usually dragging me along with her.  And it’s a good thing she has, because I wouldn’t have half the stories I have now if not for her.” Y/N cracks a smile. “But she just—when Jo loves you, you know it. She never hesitates to tell anyone. She never worries about it being too much.  She has the biggest heart, and if you’re lucky—really lucky—she’ll keep you inside it. And I used to worry about her, because in my mind, that was dangerous.  Being so open was so terrifying to me, I was certain that it would backfire for Jo.  And then she met Laure.”

Although it’s a struggle, Y/N manages to train her eyes on Laure without letting them travel to Harry. “Laure and Jo may seem different on the surface, but they both share giant hearts. And their differences balance each other out so perfectly.  You two—I never really believed in soul mates until I saw the two of you together.” Y/N admits, biting down hard on her lip when she catches Harry shifting in his chair from the corner of her eye. “But the way you two know each other, and speak to each other, and love each other…anyone who sees it can’t help but know that you’re meant for each other.  That you’ve been meant for each other since the beginning of time. Every choice you made, every path you took—all of it led you two to each other, because that’s what was destined to happen.  You—” Y/N’s voice catches in her throat, and she takes a moment to compose herself before speaking again. “You’re going to be happy together, because you were meant to be.  It’s as simple as that.”

Y/N knows that she can’t say anything else without beginning to unravel, so she simply raises her champagne glass in the air, deciding it’s best to leave it at that. “To Jo and Laure.”

Above the echoes of the wedding guests, Y/N can hear Harry’s unmistakable voice.

…

“‘She’s like the wind…through my tree’…”

With her champagne glass raised to her lips, Y/N pensively watches as Jo and Laure turn to the music in each other’s arms, holding one another close as the voice of Patrick Swayze drifts through the speakers.  When the pair had originally told Y/N that they wanted to dance to a song from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack for their first dance, Y/N had laughed at the choice.  Now, however, as she watches Laure brush back a strand of hair from Jo’s face, her lips drifting down to whisper something in her new wife’s ear, Y/N has to admit that the song is the perfect choice for them.

“They look happy, don’t they?”

Y/N recognizes Harry’s voice, not needing to turn her head away from the couple on the dance floor to know that he’s moved from his chair three seats down.  Although the feeling of his warm breath on her neck is enough to make her shudder, as well as bring back memories of the nights they spent together, Y/N does her best to keep herself composed.

“They do.” She agrees after a moment, setting her fluted glass down on the table.  She keeps her fingers around the base, gently gliding them over the smooth crystal absentmindedly as she finally turns her head just enough to catch a sight of Harry.

He’s moved himself to Jo’s chair, with one hand braced against the table and one hand lightly settled on the back of Y/N’s seat.  He removed his suit jacket after his speech, but his waist coat is still buttoned properly, despite the sleeves of his dress shirt now being rolled to his elbows, exposing his tattoos.  His face is just as pensive as it’s been all day, but there’s some sort of change that Y/N can’t quite put a finger on.  There’s less of a guard in his emerald eyes, she thinks, before turning her attention back to the dance floor.

“Do you…” Harry licks his lips once, swiping a hand through his carefully styled curls before brushing over the back of his neck. “Would you like to dance?  With me?”

Y/N’s movements against the crystal flute pause.  That question was the last thing she expected him to ask. “I…” Clearing her throat, she keeps her eyes focused on the swaying of Jo and Laure. “I don’t know.”

A vibration on the back of Y/N’s chair lets her know that Harry’s tapping his fingers against it, the pattern familiar after watching him play the same rhythm on the steering wheel for five days. “You don’t have to, so—don’t feel like you have to say yes.  But I just…I don’t know.  I thought it would be nice.”

Yes, Y/N thinks wistfully, pursing her lips slightly at the nervous tone in Harry’s voice.  It would be nice.  To be wrapped in his arms again, his body close enough that she can feel the pounding of his heart beneath his formal clothing.  To feel his calloused hands within her own again, and resting on her waist, pulling her closer to himself with every passing moment…

“It…” Y/N glances down for a moment, fixing a crease in her dress with careful attentiveness. “It would be nice, yeah.  Until we try ripping each other’s throats out in the middle of the wedding.”

The joke is only half a joke, and Harry’s laugh is only half in amusement. “I didn’t really plan on that.”

“Well, it seems that things we don’t plan on keep happening, so…” As the music begins to fade out, Y/N finally turns her head to look at Harry straight on. “That’s not really a reassuring statement.”

A flicker of irritation flits through Harry’s eyes, a sight that’s become familiar in all her years of knowing him. “It was a simple question, Y/N.  Do you want to dance or not?”

As Y/N’s own irritation escalates, she knows that she should say no.  The best thing for her to do right now would be to distance herself from Harry, to get some space to clear her head, and to keep herself from making a scene.  Whatever there is to talk about—if there even is something they need to talk about—can be done at a later date, preferably not in the middle of a wedding.  And yet—

“Fine.” Y/N finished off her champagne glass, setting it back down on the table gingerly as a new song begins to drift through the speakers.  “Let’s go.”

Harry stands from his seat first, extending a hand to Y/N to help her up.  Although she’s wary, she takes it, the sensation of his cool rings against her own fingers growing more and more familiar with each moment she spends touching them.  

A few more couples have joined Jo and Laure on the dance floor now, and Y/N and Harry fit right in as he leads her to the center, keeping her hand held firmly in his own as his free hand finds her waist.  Y/N rests her own hand on his shoulder, gripping his sturdy frame carefully.

“‘Is love so fragile…and the heart so hollow’…”

The song, Y/N realizes, doing her best to focus on anything but the way Harry’s gaze is locked onto her with a frightening intensity, is one that she’s heard a few times over their road trip together.  The beat of the song is as familiar as a memory as the two of them sway to it, their motions careful and controlled.

“‘You’re saying I’m fragile; I try not to be…I search only for something I can’t see’…”

Harry’s hand on her waist, Y/N can’t help but notice, is so much more unsure than it was a few nights ago, when he pulled her close on top of the bar.  When he guided her movements in a way that was so much more frenzied than he’s doing now, and in a way that she misses.  She’s missed it, that breathless feeling.  The feeling of not knowing what’s coming next, and being enthralled by the unknown of it all.

“‘I need you to love me…I need you today…give to me your leather…take from me my lace’…”

The corner of Harry’s lips quirking up ever so slightly lets Y/N know that he’s listening just as intently to the lyrics as she is, and has the same events and memories floating through his head.  His hand begins to get braver, tightening his grasp on her as his hand begins to rub gently over her hip.

“Harry…” His name slips from Y/N’s lips involuntarily as she meets his jade eyes in question.  From the corner of her eye, she can see Laure and Jo watching the two of them as they dance, whispering into each other’s ears like girls gossiping in a school hallway. “What—?”

“Sh.” The sound is soft as it falls past Harry’s red lips, the crease between his brow slackening slightly as he sighs. “Just…don’t speak.  Not right now.”

“‘You in the moonlight…with your sleepy eyes…could you ever love a man like me’…”

The request is easy enough, but Y/N can’t make herself listen to it as she cocks her head to the side, the furrow of her own brow matching Harry’s. “Why?”

“‘And you were right…when I walked into your house…I knew I’d never want to leave’…”

The breath that Harry sucks in is mostly taken through his teeth, his lips pursing immediately after as he contemplates his answer. “I just want to…remember this moment. Properly remember it, before tonight ends, and we…”

“‘Sometimes I’m a strong man…sometimes cold and scared’…”

“…We go our separate ways.” Harry finally finishes, his eyes shifting to the floor as he pulls Y/N even closer to his chest.  Her elbow is completely bent to her body as her fingers drift further from his shoulder, moving closer to where the slope of his neck begins.

Although the explanation makes sense, the thought of going a separate way from Harry catches Y/N’s breath in her throat, so much so that she can barely choke out a reply. “Okay.” She manages, the lump in her throat growing with every passing second.

“‘Lovers forever face to face…my city your mountains…stay with me stay’…”

Eyes drifting closed of their own accord, Y/N leans her head forward, settling her cheek into the curve of Harry’s shoulder.  The smell of his cologne lingers in the fabric of his emerald waistcoat, intoxicating her further with every breath she takes.

“‘I need you to love me…I need you today’…”

Something warm and soft presses against the top of Y/N’s head, and she knows that it’s Harry’s own cheek resting against her.  A gentle sigh falls from his mouth, and Y/N feels every moment of it, from the rise and fall of his chest against hers to the breath of air that blows slowly from his lips.  She memorizes the motions, something for her to play in her head again later when she’s alone on a plane back to L.A., where her regular life is waiting for her. Where Brant is waiting for her.

“‘Give to me your leather…take from me my lace’…”

Y/N quickly lifts a finger to her eye, wiping away the moisture that’s pooling on her lash line before returning her grip to Harry’s shoulder. “If I said…” She hesitates, taking the time to choose her words carefully.  She needs to choose them carefully. “If I said that I loved every moment of the road trip…would you believe me?”

“‘Lovers forever face to face…my city your mountains…stay with me stay’…”

Harry squeezes her hand in his own, his entire body tightening in response to her words, and for a moment, Y/N fears that she’s overstepped.  An apology is already forming in her mouth, about to spill from her tongue, when Harry’s response cuts her off, his voice hesitant and anxious and so quiet that she almost can’t make out the words.

“If I said that I loved every moment I’ve ever spent with you, and not just these last five days, would you believe me?”

“‘I need you to love me…I need you today’…”

Y/N’s eyes snap open, her head quickly lifting from Harry’s shoulder to look at him with wide and astonished eyes.  Although the struggle is written clearly upon his face, he doesn’t shy his eyes away from hers, and instead holds her gaze as the voice of Stevie Nicks continues to croon over the speakers.

“‘Give to me your leather…take from me my lace’…”

As the music fades out, another song begins to fade in, increasing the tempo and causing the other couples around them to break apart and mill around the dance floor.  Only Y/N and Harry stay pressed together, stuck in a bubble of all their own, frozen in a moment of change, and unable to move forward or back in the same way they once had.

Over the fabric of her dress, Y/N can feel Harry’s thumb brushing against her hip, sending electrifying pulses throughout her body.  A loose curl has fallen from his styled hair into the path of his eyes, dusting over his eyelashes lightly as he blinks.  Did she believe him, she wonders?  Could she believe him?

“Can we…” Her mouth is dry when she tries to respond, and she licks her lips quickly, noticing how Harry’s eyes flicker to follow the motion. “Can we discuss this after the wedding? I just—I don’t want to take attention away from Jo and Laure—”

“Yeah.” Harry nods roughly, his hand squeezing hers one last time before he slowly drops it, stepping back from her with great care.  Y/N has to bite her tongue to stop herself from whining in protest.

“Yeah.” Harry repeats the word as he fixes his hair, his eyes drifting from hers. “We can discuss it later.”

…

Later, after Jo and Laure cut the cake, after each of them danced with their parents; later, after the staff members began to clear the plates from every table, after everyone waved goodbye to Jo and Laure as their car drove off to the honeymoon cottage snuggled further up the mountain side; later, after guests began to depart in their own cars; later, after Harry snagged a bottle of merlot from the kitchen, after Y/N slipped off her heels during the walk back to her cabin, the feeling of the ground beneath her feet oddly comforting; later, after Y/N opened the door, allowing Harry to step in first before following…

Later is each of them standing in the kitchen, still in their formal clothes, more disheveled than they were at the start of the day, as Y/N opens the cupboard and reaches for the two largest wine glasses she can find.

“Here.” She sets them down on the counter, allowing Harry to fill them to the brim with the crimson liquid. He pushes a nearly full glass towards her before taking the other in his hand, each of them bringing the glasses to their lips for a long drink.

Harry is nervous, and Y/N can tell.  She’s gotten a bit better at reading him over their journey together, and she can see the anxiety that’s running through him in his body language.  However, although the tapping of his fingers, the rubbing of his lips, and the crease between his brow is a major indication, she knows the real reason she’s aware of Harry’s nerves is because she’s hyper aware of her own.

“You, uh—” Harry clears his throat quietly, the action half reflex, half habit. “You looked really pretty today.  Beautiful, actually.”

A light flush heats Y/N’s cheeks, both from the wine and his compliment. “Thank you.” She murmurs, glancing down at her forest coloured dress. “I’m just glad the dress survived the car.”

A chuckle falls from Harry’s lips as he lifts his wine glass again. “Yeah.  A real miracle, huh?”

Y/N taps her fingers anxiously against the kitchen island, the coolness of the countertop a nice contrast to her heated skin. “Well, considering all the things that didn’t survive…” She trails off, watching as Harry’s face falls when the meaning of her words washes over him.

Still, Harry steels his shoulders, resolve painting itself over his pained features. “You mean us, yeah?” His tone is blunt and to the point. “After we…?”

“I just—what the fuck was that, Harry?” Y/N asks, her voice every bit as exasperated and exhausted as she feels. “I thought we—and then you—and now, saying you—you’ve always…?”

“I know I’ve been—I know I fucked up.” Harry drops his head, shame clear in his voice as he twists a ring around one of his fingers. “I know that, Y/N.  I’m so sorry—”

“I’m just so confused, Harry.  Really, I—” The words spill out of her now, faster than they ever have. “I know we were drunk when we fucked, but I…I liked it.  And the next morning felt so good, and so right, and then Brant called, and it was like…a switch flipped inside you.  And you called us a mistake.  So I just—I don’t understand how you could say that less than forty-eight hours ago, and then tell me you’ve always loved being around me tonight.”

Harry’s tongue swipes over his lips once before he inhales slowly, collecting and preparing himself for the conversation. “I’m sorry.” He says lowly, his accent thicker with remorse. “I didn’t want to—I felt like it was a mistake, but not because of anything you did.  It was because I knew that I had feelings for you, and I knew that you didn’t have feelings for me.”

The admission of his feelings was clear in his speech before he actually spoke the words, but the verbal acknowledgement of them still leaves an ache in Y/N’s chest as she refutes the statement. “You didn’t know that!” She says hotly, her hand tightening around her glass with every breath. “You wouldn’t let us talk about it, so how could you know?”

“Because Brant called!” While Harry’s voice doesn’t raise in volume, it does in intensity. “Brant called, and asked you to dinner, and you said yes!”

“What, did you want me to break things off with him right then and there?  Over the phone?” Y/N demands, an incredulous look on her face as she appraises Harry. “I’m not a bitch, Harry.  That would be heartless, and I’m not—I don’t want to hurt anyone. And maybe, maybe, it would be different if I felt anything for Brant, anything that was even a fraction of what I’ve felt for you, the good and the bad, but I don’t!”

Y/N’s words hang heavy in the air between them, flickering through the room like the dim light of the light fixture above them.  There’s just enough light, however, that she can watch as her words roll over Harry, sinking into every pore of his body until all the defiance rolls out of him.

“What—” His voice cracks with emotion, and he takes a moment to compose himself before he tries again. “What do you feel for me?”

Turning her eyes down to her wine, she raises the glass to her lips, draining more than half of it in one swift motion.  When she speaks again, her voice is slick with the liquor. “What does it matter?” She asks softly. “If you couldn’t believe it enough to not try to push me away the moment I let myself be vulnerable?”

“It wasn’t—your vulnerability wasn’t apparent to me.” Harry lifts the wine bottle automatically, refilling Y/N’s glass with merlot. “It was mine that scared me.  Brant called, and you spoke to him, and I felt like—it was like that first date all over again, when you gave your attention to that guy from your class.  I felt…” Staring into his own wine, Harry mulls over his words as if the liquor can reveal the perfect thing to say. “I felt like a jealous teenager again, like a proper idiot.  And I—you’ve always been so much more put together than me, and refined, and steady, and Brant clearly fits into your world neatly, so I—”

“Stop fucking doing that.” Y/N’s voice is as sharp as ice, as harsh as frostbite. “How many times can we prove to each other that we’re more than our projections of the last seven years?  How many times until it sticks?”

Harry studies Y/N’s face, his emerald eyes scanning over every slope and curve of her expression before he replies. “I didn’t think you felt anything for me.  I’m still not…sure…”

“Harry, I feel—I feel everything with you.” Y/N’s voice drops to a hushed whisper, as if what she’s admitting is top secret. “I feel like I can be myself.  I can be as stupid or serious as I need to be, and you’ll just…accept it.  The only person I’ve ever felt that with before is Jo.  No one else.  And it—it’s terrifying, but good, and then you pushed me away again, and that fucking hurt.  You have the ability to hurt me now, and the moment you got it, you did.”

“I didn’t know.” Harry mumbles the words, rubbing his hand over his flushed cheeks slowly. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.  If I’d known—”

“But you didn’t even ask. You can’t do that, okay?” When Y/N looks up at him, she can see the vulnerability on her face reflected in Harry’s eyes. “Please.  I don’t care if you get jealous, or angry, or—or anything else that’s as irritating as I know you can be—” A soft snort echoes from Harry. “Just be honest with me. Tell me.  Ask me.”

“What about…” Harry reaches across the kitchen island, taking Y/N’s hand in his own and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “What I said to you earlier?  I told you how I felt.   And I asked what you feel for me.  Can you be honest with me about that?”

“I can.” Y/N says carefully, pursing her lips for a moment. “I…I’m not sure if I’m ready to say something as…decisive as you do.  I’ve never really—I know that I feel…more intensely for you than I ever have for anyone else.  I just don’t know…how intense, or…I can’t describe it.”

“Maybe I can help.” Harry tugs gently on Y/N’s arm, bringing her around the kitchen island to his side of the room.  With his hand still holding hers, he leads her to the couch, sitting down and pulling her with him.  He’s mindful of the skirt of her dress, fixing it carefully so that it doesn’t get caught beneath her. “To me, love is…wanting to be near the other person. Do you want to be near me?”

Y/N nods softly. “I do.” She whispers into the darkness, the cabin quiet save for their breathing and the chirping of crickets outside.

“And what about…” Harry lifts a hand to caress her face, his calloused fingers gentle against her warm skin as he brushes over her cheekbone. “This?  Do you like being touched by me?”

Y/N’s skin burns beneath his touch. “I do.  A lot, actually.”

“And even when we were arguing…when we weren’t speaking to each other, and wouldn’t look at each other…” Harry worries his bottom lip between his teeth, the motion staining his lips an even darker pink than they were before. “Did you want me as badly as I wanted you?”

Harry’s other hand begins to rub Y/N’s thigh over her dress, still heating her skin even with the layers of fabric preventing actual contact.  Y/N’s eyelids flutter at the sensation. “Yes.” She breathes, leaning her head against the back of the couch. “I did.  I still do.”

“Obviously, I…I’d like it if you could know exactly how you feel, but…” Harry shrugs slightly, his hand drifting down to rest on the side of Y/N’s neck. “I know that it’s different for you.  You’re not used to it.  You don’t have to put a label on it, yeah?  I just want you to be comfortable with me.  As long as you’re mine, you can take as long as you need to express how you feel.”

Relief spreads through Y/N’s body at Harry’s words.  The freedom to take her time, to feel like she doesn’t need to have all the answers right away, is something that none of her past partners have ever offered her, and a familiar sensation begins to curl itself around Y/N’s core as Harry caresses her neck. “Yours?” She repeats slowly, her senses feeling like they’re processing through molasses. “Am I yours?”

“I’d like you to be.” The corner of Harry’s pink lip pulls up, but there’s an air of anxiety in his words. “Are you?”

The fabric of her dress swishes beneath Y/N as she pulls herself into Harry’s, managing to settle one knee of either side of him beneath the layers of tulle. “I am.” She murmurs, her hands wrapping themselves around his sturdy shoulders.  Their noses bump together as she moves closer, breath mingling in the small space between their lips. “I’ll be yours.”

Harry’s breath washes over her as he sighs gently, the fragrance of merlot and champagne settling on the back of her tongue. “Laure and Jo will be happy.”

A small laugh, mostly an exhale of breath more than anything else, sounds from Y/N as she twists the curls at the nape of Harry’s neck between her fingers. “Mmm.  Probably because they won’t have to break up any more fights.”

“No, no, we’ll still fight. It keeps things interesting.” Harry’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk, his nose brushing over Y/N’s once more as he tilts his head to the side. “We’ll just have a lot more fun when we make up with each other.”

Harry’s fingers find the bare expanse of Y/N’s back between the straps of her dress, gliding his fingertips over her warm skin.  The sensation of his cool touch against her sends a shiver up her spine, and she twists herself closer to him in return, but keeps the inch gap between their lips. There’s an anticipation between them, but also a stubbornness.  A refusal to be the first one to break.

“A lot more fun?” Y/N questions, massaging the tips of her fingers into Harry’s scalp.  She lets her painted nails scratch along him gently, just enough to make his eyelids flutter at the sensation. “What exactly do you mean?”

“I could tell you…” Harry purrs his words, pressing his head back into the palm of her hand. “Or I could show you.  It’s up to you.”

His words offer Y/N a choice.  Will she continue to push him?  Or will she give in?

When her hands retreat from his hair, Harry whines quietly, his half lidded eyes staring up at her in confusion.  Y/N braces herself against his shoulders as she carefully removes herself from his lap, picking up the fabric of her dress with one hand while grabbing the half empty bottle of wine with the other.

Harry watches as she takes a step backwards, her eyes glued to his as she appraises him.  As comfortable—and as attractive—as he looks on the couch with his emerald slack covered legs spread, sleeves half rolled up, chest heaving from their close contact, Y/N needs him somewhere else.

Harry’s tongue glides slowly over his parted lips as Y/N raises the bottle of wine to her mouth, taking a small sip before turning on her heel and walking to the staircase that leads up to the master bedroom of the cabin.  She only gets two steps up the stairs before she feels Harry’s hot breath on the back of her neck, his back and arms bracing against her as she climbs slowly.  With one hand still holding her dress out of her way, Y/N steps over the summit of the stairs, not waiting for Harry before she makes her way to the bedroom.

The bedroom itself has been tidied by the hotel staff since Y/N last saw it, and she’s never been more thankful for it; she and Jo had left it in a mess in their efforts to get ready that morning.  Instead, the staff have perfectly made the bed, complete with all the decorative pillows that Y/N had tossed onto the floor the night before, set fresh candles on the night tables and dresser, and left carefully rolled white towels on the edge of the bed.

A pair of tattooed arms wrap around Y/N’s waist, and a smile lights up her face as she falls back into Harry’s strong chest. “Your room is lovely.  Much nicer than those motels.” He rasps in her ear, teeth just barely grazing her lobe as he speaks. “Do you have a lighter for the candles?”

“You want to light candles?” Y/N raises an eyebrow as she drops her dress from her hand in order to trail her fingers over Harry’s wrist. “That’s a bit much, isn’t it?”

Pressing a light kiss to her neck, Harry shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so.” He murmurs. “We were so rushed last time.  I want to enjoy tonight.”

A smile creeps over Y/N’s face as she carefully unlaces Harry’s hands from her waist. “The lighter is in the bedside table, on the left.”

As Harry turns his attention to searching through the drawer, Y/N sets the wine down on the dresser, appraising her reflection in the mirror propped on top of it.  She begins to unpin the hair that had been carefully styled that morning, her hair only a fraction as put together as it had been. Setting the pins down on the wood surface in front of her, she takes her time taking off her earrings and bracelets, her eyes following Harry’s movements in the mirror.

The broad expanse of his back is still covered by his green waistcoat, rumpled as it stretches over the slope of his body.  With each movement, a new flicker of candlelight begins to glow in front of him, illuminating the silhouette of his body with soft flickers of orange and yellow.

“You’re a bit of a romantic, aren’t you?” The question slips from Y/N’s lips before she’s turned around completely to watch Harry’s actions without the aid of the mirror. “You like this sort of thing—the candles, the cabin in the forest, coming from a wedding…”

Harry’s body shakes as a laugh rolls through him, his side profile barely visible as he turns to light another candle next to the bed. “I suppose I am, yeah.  Are you not?”

Y/N gives half a shrug, tucking her now loose hair behind her ears as best she can. “I don’t know. I’ve never really considered myself one…never saw the point in grand gestures.  They’re not very realistic.”

“They don’t have to be realistic.  That’s why it’s a grand gesture.” Harry says easily, sauntering towards her with a dimpled grin on his face.  He reaches carefully behind Y/N, his thumb flicking the lighter to spark as he tilts the candle towards the flame. “And I’d hardly call candles a grand gesture. Haven’t you ever been properly romanced?”

Y/N tugs her bottom lip between her teeth as she contemplates the question. “Not…really? I mean, there’s been a few things, but nothing…I don’t know.  We were always busy—”

“You can always make time for someone if you want to.” Harry sets the lit candle back down on the dresser, repeating the motion with two more before setting the lighter down as well. “Hasn’t Brant ever—well, I know he hasn’t, actually—” A snort leaves Harry’s mouth as he begins to run his hands over Y/N’s bare shoulders, massaging the skin gently. “Haven’t any of your exes asked you what you wanted, or…done something spontaneous for you, like a surprise gift, or trip, or…?”

Harry trails off as he registers the expression on Y/N’s face, and feels the tensing of her shoulders beneath his hands. “Um, not really.” She says, doing her best to keep her tone light. “We were always very…scheduled.  A surprise trip wasn’t really feasible.”

The corner of Harry’s mouth tugs down into a frown, his hands continuing to work over the knots in Y/N’s shoulders as he turns her around.  He presses himself behind her, moving her hair to one side of her neck before pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her spine. “The more we speak, the more I see why you’re so guarded, love.” He murmurs, his tone carefully controlled. “You don’t need to be like that with me.  If you’re…afraid of what I’ll think, or…you know I tease you, but you’re always fine with me.  We can be serious—”

“No.” Y/N shakes her head adamantly, glancing at Harry over the curve of her own shoulder as she rests one hand over his own. “I don’t want to be serious.  I’m so sick of being serious.” She maneuvers Harry’s hand to her back as she speaks, guiding his fingers until they find the zipper of her dress. “I like that you tease me, and aren’t afraid to irritate me, and how you care enough to listen to what I say…”

The sound of her zipper slowly being tugged down pricks Y/N’s ears, and she watches Harry’s movement in the mirror.  There’s a clear look of concentration painted onto his expression as he helps remove her dress, but the moment he catches her eye, he locks into her gaze.  As he finishes pulling down the zipper, he keeps his emerald eyes glued to hers in the reflective surface, his stare becoming more and more hypnotic with every passing second.

“So what you’re saying is…” Harry’s lips brush against her ear as he leans closer to her, pressing a sensual kiss right over her pulse point. “You want me to romance you, but still annoy the shit out of you?”

Although it’s breathless, the sound that leaves Y/N’s mouth is unmistakably a laugh as Harry begins to trail kisses down her neck, slipping the strap of her dress down her shoulder. “Yes. It’s oddly endearing.”

“Oddly endearing is my middle name.” Harry’s laugh matches hers as his hands continue their task of removing her clothing.  Once Y/N’s straps are free of her shoulders, Harry helps her step out of the hunter green dress, carefully maneuvering the full skirt to the corner chair without creasing it.

“Wouldn’t want to ruin your pretty dress, now would—” Harry freezes mid sentence as he turns back around, his mouth falling slack as if seeing Y/N for the first time.

Despite having been naked and underneath his body less than forty eight hours ago, Y/N crosses her arms over her body.  The black teddy bodysuit she’d purchased to wear under her bridesmaid dress had, at the time of purchase, been more for practicality than anything.  The underwire of the strapless bra supported by the corseted middle was comfortable enough to keep her properly situated in her dress without a wardrobe malfunction, as well as serving as a barrier between Y/N’s sensitive skin and the stitched seams of the gown.  It’s not until this moment, with Harry staring at her with a hungry stupor in his eyes, does Y/N realize how racy the undergarment is.

“What?” She says after a moment, a note of uncertainty creeping into her voice. “I—it’s not like you haven’t seen me before.”

The nerves woven into her tone are enough to snap Harry from his thoughts. “This is…different.” He approaches her again, his steps slow and measured as he lays a hand on her lace covered side. “I was pissed last time I had you…didn’t get to properly take in the sight of you…” Harry scratches his nails over one of the mesh panels, his jade eyes darkening another shade once more.

“I didn’t get to enjoy you, either.  And yet you’re still fully clothed.” Y/N begins to fiddle with the buttons of Harry’s emerald waistcoat, working them open one by one as she forces herself to steady her breathing. “That’s not very fair, is it?”

“I suppose it’s not. Not fair at all.” Harry allows her to pull his waistcoat from his body, and it’s not until Y/N reaches the third button of his button down shirt that she realizes how much he’s enjoying her undressing him.

Every breath that Harry takes is ragged and shallow, his chest heaving with the effort to keep himself controlled as Y/N’s fingers trail down the exposed skin of his chest.  The sight of Harry’s throat tightening as her nails scrape his skin is too much for her to resist, and she quickly attaches her lips to the base of his neck as she pulls the now unbuttoned shirt from his body.

Swiping her tongue over the new mark at the base of his throat, Y/N manages to pull a moan from Harry, and her lips pull back into a small smile against his hot skin at the sound. “You sound really nice when you do that.” She murmurs, her hand trailing down to his belt as she speaks.

She can feel Harry swallow again, and when he replies, his voice is as low as she’s ever heard it. “Then you’ll have to make me do it more, won’t you, pet?” His eyes are blown darker with lust as he grips Y/N’s hips tight, pressing the pads of his fingers into her flesh. “Are you going to give me moans that are just as pretty?  Or am I going to have to pull them from your stubborn little mouth?”  

Y/N’s breath hitches in her chest at his dominant tone, her mouth falling open in a gasp against Harry’s collar bones.  She can feel the vibrations of his laugh in her lips, the tingle not unlike the burning she feels in her core, and Harry’s hand travels from her hips to her chin as the burning increases.

“Cat got your tongue, hm?” Harry grips Y/N’s chin between his thumb and forefinger as she fumbles with his belt, the action clumsier without her looking at her movements. “Don’t get all shy now, m’love.  It’s just me. We’ve been here before.”

Pulling his belt from his dress pants, Y/N tosses it to the side, her fingers resting on the warm skin of Harry’s abdomen. “I know.  It just feels different now, that’s all.  After everything we said, and…” Her eyes are unable to hold his as she drifts off, and she drops her gaze to his swallow tattoos as her cheeks redden.

A gentle tap on her chin brings her eyes back to meet Harry’s intense gaze. “I know it feels different, but that’s not bad.” Harry’s voice softens as his thumb begins to stroke over her skin, the motion slow and gentle. “It can be really good, actually. I told you, I can properly enjoy you now.  If you’ll let me, that is.  It’s up to you.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, dragging her teeth over her bottom lip as she reaches behind her back.  Her fingers quickly find the laces at the back of the garment, and she pulls the tie undone slowly, making sure to keep her eyes locked with Harry’s the entire time. “I want that.  I want you, Harry.  I want…all of you.”

She barely has her laces undone before Harry is grasping at her hips, pulling her body tight against his again for another desperate kiss.  His lips glide between hers smoothly, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle before he lets his teeth nip at her bottom lip, tugging at the flesh in a hungry way.  With her lingerie hanging loosely off her body, Harry easily yanks the material down her body, fully exposing Y/N’s breasts and stomach.  

The sight of her exposed skin is enough to grab Harry’s attention from the removal of clothing, and he leaves the lace bodysuit hanging at her hips as his kisses begin to travel down her jaw, her neck, her collar bones, to her breasts.  A breathless gasp falls from Y/N’s mouth as Harry’s open mouthed kisses become wetter and longer, until his hot mouth is wrapped around her stiff nipple.

“Harry—” Y/N tangles a hand in his already ruined curls, yanking hard at his hair as his teeth scrape against her sensitive skin. “God, be careful—”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Harry murmurs the phrase against her breast, barely pulling his mouth off enough to speak.  His eyes, although half lidded with lust, flicker up to her with a playful look. “Y’really want me to be careful, pet?  Or do you want me to devour you?”

His words send another flood of heat to her core, and it takes all of Y/N’s focus to keep herself standing upright. “Shut up.” She mutters, voice pitched higher than normal as she tugs on Harry’s hair again, half in need and half to solicit a groan from him.

The groan he emits, however, just adds more sensation to his teasing as the sound causes a vibration against her nipple, and Y/N barely manages to pull Harry away from her before her knees buckle.

Harry, however, wastes no time, and it’s only the moment after Y/N pulls him off of her that he’s kissing her again, teeth clacking against teeth as he backs her up towards the bed.  When the back of her legs hits the mattress, Y/N stumbles back, but Harry catches her in time to lower her gently to the bed.

There’s an unmistakable tenderness in the movement, and the action catches Y/N right in the throat. “Thought you weren’t being careful?” Despite her ribbing tone, Y/N’s voice is breathless as she settles back into the soft sheets. “Isn’t that what you just said, pet?”

A growl rips from the back of Harry’s throat as he cages himself over her shaking body, his mouth already reattached to her chest to leave a fresh trail of bruises from her sternum to her abdomen. “You’re such a bloody minx, y’know that?”

Although she opens her mouth to reply, the only sound that leaves Y/N’s lips is a gasp as Harry quickly lifts her hips to pull her teddy completely off, tossing it to the side without so much as a glance.  He leaves one last bite on her lower abdomen, just hard enough to leave an imprint of his mouth, before soothing the mark with a wet swipe of his tongue over the red skin.

“Knees up, minx.” Harry’s accent is thick, dripping from his voice like honey as his hands rub her lower calves, helping to push them up on the bed until Y/N’s legs are bent and spread open in a position he likes.  The way that Harry’s tongue swipes over his lips tells Y/N of his intentions right away, and she braces herself on her elbows on the bed before pulling back.

Harry, who had been leaving open mouthed kisses along Y/N’s knees, makes a disgruntled sound at the loss of contact. “Where do y’think you’re going?” He asks in frustration, pulling himself onto the bed and crawling after her.  Gripping one of her ankles, he spreads her open again, resuming the path his mouth had been making to her core a moment ago. “Trying to get away from me?”

A breathless laugh falls from Y/N’s mouth. “More like trying to get comfortable.  It’s been so long since I’ve had someone…” Despite Harry’s position between her legs, Y/N can’t bring herself to say the words.

“Had someone what? Eat your cunt?” Harry asks crudely, raising an eyebrow as he kisses her inner thigh.  His hot breath rolls over her core, causing Y/N to sigh as she relaxes back into the sheets. “That’s a tragedy, love.  Especially when you taste so sweet.  I remember from a few nights ago…I just barely got a taste when we…”

She should know better, Y/N thinks.  She should know, now that she knows Harry well enough, that something like this is coming, especially since it’s exactly what he did last time he was between her legs. Still, when his ringed index finger runs quickly between her folds, becoming coated in her wetness just for Harry to pop it into his mouth like a satisfied and smug ass, Y/N half jumps off the bed.

“Sensitive, are you?” Harry laughs around his finger, taking great care to lick off every bit of her wetness. “Just as sensitive as you are sweet.”

Y/N struggles to prop herself up on her elbows, doing her best to give him a scathing look. “You could’ve warned me, you—”

Her complaint is cut off abruptly by Harry licking over her slit with the flat of his tongue, collecting every drop of arousal before suctioning his lips over her clit. “What was that?” He mutters between his actions, flicking his tongue over Y/N’s clit as she grasps the sheets between her fingers. “I didn’t quite catch it, love.”

Falling back onto the pillows, Y/N allows her eyes to close for just a moment as she twists the cotton sheets between her hands. “Shut—shut up.” She moans, one hand releasing the sheets to latch onto Harry’s curls.  She tugs harshly, and the moan he releases sends shivers from her core into her spine.

Although Harry laughs against her, his smirk detectable against her folds as his tongue continues to work over her, a silence falls between them as he continues to eat her out. It shouldn’t be surprising, she manages to think as she tugs on his curly locks, that Harry is giving her the best oral she’s ever received.  Everything he does to her, from irritating her, making her laugh, to pleasuring her, is so intense that it only makes sense.

Harry’s tongue dips inside Y/N’s entrance, proving that thought to be true for what seems to be the millionth time that night.  Y/N can’t help but writhe on the sheets now, her body unable to contain the pleasure that’s building inside her core like never before.

When a gasping whine echoes from Y/N, a sound she’s never even heard herself make before, one of Harry’s hands moves from its position on her thigh, where he’s been holding her open so he can continue to work.  It travels up her leg to her pelvis, pressing flat on her lower abdomen and keeping her hips secure to the bed.

“You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you, pet?” Harry’s mouth is red, coated with her wetness when he glances at her.  He begins to rub circles on her abdomen, both soothing her and creating an ache deep inside her that she knows can only be satisfied by his cock. “You’re going to be a good girl and cum on my mouth, yeah?”

Y/N whimpers in response, barely managing to keep her eyes open as she nods desperately. “I-I need—your fingers, or—”

“No, no, pet, you don’t need that.” Harry assures her between long licks over her clit. “I’ll fill you later, but you’re going to cum from my mouth.  I know you can do it, love.  I know you can.”

“I—” Harry’s hand pressed to her abdomen is the only thing keeping Y/N from rutting her hips into the air in desperation. “Please, Harry, I—”

“You can do it.” Breath hot against her entrance, Harry dips his tongue within her again, moving it in and out slowly as his nose brushes against her sensitive bundle of nerves. “You—fuck—you’re so ready, Y/N, I know you can do it…just relax, pet…let go…”

Let go.  The command is so simple, and yet, isn’t that all Y/N’s ever wanted?  Isn’t that exactly what Harry has managed to allow her to do this entire trip?  No sooner does the thought cross her mind that Harry’s teeth graze over her clit, tweaking it ever so gently before pressing the flat of his tongue against it once more.  He gives a harsh suck, mouthing something she can’t understand, and then Y/N is tugging on his chestnut curls with a renewed desperation as she falls over the brink of pleasure.

“Harry, Harry, Harry…” His name is the only thing Y/N can repeat as she orgasms, her head falling back against the pillows while the waves of her pleasure wash over her.

Harry untangles her hand from the sheets, weaving his fingers through her own to give her something solid to hold onto as she loses herself in the sensations.  Although he keeps his mouth pressed to her, his actions are gentler, just licking the wetness that drips from her entrance as she rides out her orgasm.

It takes a few moment for the pleasure to recede enough that Y/N can become aware of her surroundings again. Chest heaving, she lolls her head to the side, her hand falling from Harry’s curls and onto the crumpled sheets.

Harry finally pulls away from her then, pulling himself from between her legs to the side of Y/N’s shaking body.  He licks his wet lips, savouring the last drops of her arousal before pressing softer kisses to her stomach, her sternum, her collar bones, until he reaches her lips.

“You alright, love?” Harry asks, voice quiet in the hum of the night as he settles beside her.  He brushes a sweaty strand of hair from her forehead, and the motion is so gentle that Y/N almost tears up. “Just take some deep breaths.”

“I—” Y/N sucks in another breath as Harry wraps an arm around her stomach. “I’m alright.  Just…trying to catch my breath.” She laughs nervously as her cheeks redden in a post-orgasm haze. “You’re, uh, you’re really good at that.”

Harry’s laugh is much more amused than hers. “Thank you.  I quite enjoy it, so it would be rather sad if I wasn’t good at it.”

“That’s true.” Y/N hums, rolling her head onto Harry’s shoulder.  He rubs small circles on her waist, and the action gives her something to focus on as she evens her breathing.

Harry sighs in satisfaction. “You know, if you had shagged Brant, I doubt his cunnilingus skills would have been as good as mine.” He says thoughtfully, as if he’s been pondering the idea for a while.

Y/N groans, bracing her hand against is muscled chest to shove him away. “Do not mention Brant while I’m lying next to you naked!  Christ, I shouldn’t have to say that!”

Harry laughs as he readjusts himself, pulling his body over hers while his lips work against her neck. “I’m sorry.  I won’t bring him up again, I swear.”

Huffing slightly, Y/N settles herself back into the sheets. “Good.”

“But for the record—”

“If you keep speaking, I’m not giving you a blowjob.” Y/N warns, shooting Harry a warning glance. “Are you prepared to give that up?”

The speed at which Harry’s face falls is almost comical.  His brow creases as his ruby lips pull down into a pout, his arms keeping himself suspended above Y/N as he relents. “Alright, I’m sorry.  Truly, I am.  I’ll stop.”

Y/N tugs her bottom lip between her teeth as her eyes focus on Harry’s shining green irises. “Good, because I really want to blow you.”

The crude admission catches Harry by surprise, his eyebrows jumping up in shock as he rolls to the side. Propping himself up on his elbow, he rakes a hand through his messy curls as he answers with a measured tone. “You do?”

Y/N nods slowly, pushing herself up to sit on her knees as one of her hands begins to trace over the muscles of Harry’s chest. “I do.  Like you said…I didn’t get to last time.  And I bet you taste good.”

Harry sucks in a breath through his teeth as he gives a sharp nod. “Yeah.  Okay.  If you want to—”

“I do.” Y/N presses on Harry’s chest to push him back again, but this time she does it carefully, settling him back into the sheets like he did for her.  Moving so that she’s on her knees beside him, she gives him a quick kiss, only letting herself enjoy his slightly chapped lips against hers for a moment before she directs her attention to the bulge in his Calvin Klein boxers.

Y/N trails a finger over the line of hair leading to the waistband, feeling the muscles of Harry’s abdomen contract under her finger. “Sensitive, huh?” She asks quietly, mimicking what he had said to her before earlier.

Harry inhales deeply, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “Yeah.  So don’t tease me.”

“I’m not.  I’m just…warming you up.” Y/N continues the motion for a moment before her fingers drift to the elastic of his boxers.  She dips a finger beneath it, continuing to tease his abdomen before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his clothed bulge.

Harry’s hips jerk in reaction, his mouth falling open as he spits out a curse. “Bloody hell…”

“Feel good?” Y/N only lifts her mouth enough so that the soft murmur can be heard.  She can feel Harry’s cock twitching as her lips move over it, and the thought that she’s turning him on enough for him to twitch in his boxers sends a flood of heat between her thighs.

“Feels really good, yeah.” Harry’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and the effort it takes to keep his voice controlled is apparent on his face. “Keep going.”

Y/N hums in response, hooking her fingers into the waistband of his boxers and slowly pulling them down his legs as Harry lifts his hips.  She waits until his boxers are completely removed to turn her attention back to his cock, and the sight of it makes her mouth water.

It’s just as big as she remembers, with a slight curve along the length leading to the red and leaking head. Y/N can practically see the heat radiating off of it, she thinks, and when she wraps her hand around the base, her suspicions are confirmed.

The weak groan that falls from Harry’s cherry red lips is the only thing that keeps Y/N from getting completely distracted by admiring him.  She pumps him slowly a few times, and his length throbs in her hand as more blood floods to his pelvis.  Licking her lips once, Y/N leans down and gives a small kitten lick to the leaking tip, collecting the precum on her tongue.

A garbled moan sounds from Harry’s chest, and Y/N watches from the corner of her eye as one hand tucks into his own curls before the other gathers her hair within his fist. Although he’s holding her, he doesn’t force her down, or try to guide her motions.  He wants to see what she’s going to do of her own accord.

Y/N takes her time, licking slowly from the head of Harry’s cock to one of the pulsing veins that runs down his shaft.  She traces the line with the tip of her tongue, enjoying the sounds that the action pulls from Harry before taking the head of his cock between her lips. Mindful of her teeth, she sucks slowly, pushing herself further and further down his length until her nose is just touching his pelvis.

“That’s it, minx.” Harry moans his words, his voice breathless and strained as he cards his fingers through her hair.  His flushed chest is rising and falling prominently as Harry takes deep breath after deep breath. “Doing so well, aren’t you?”

The praise sends a wave of delight through Y/N, and she begins to bob her head faster, working what she can’t fit into her mouth with her hand.  Harry, she learns, is extremely vocal during sex, which isn’t exactly surprising now that she knows him better.  Still, his moans and whimpers are all the encouragement Y/N needs to keep her pace, slowing down only to tease him.  And she loves to tease him.

“Fuck—” A groan rips from Harry’s chest as Y/N slows her motions again, trailing her tongue up his length before focusing on his tip with great interest. “C’mon, darling, don’t be mean to me.  I wasn’t mean to you.”

“I’m just enjoying myself, Harry.” Y/N says innocently, batting her eyes at him as she kisses the head of his cock. “Don’t you want me to enjoy myself?”

The question is simple enough, but the sinful context makes Harry buck his hips into her hand. “Y’know I do, pet, but you’re torturing me…”

Y/N lifts her mouth from his length with a quiet pop as her strokes slow down. “Am I?”

“Fucking hell—” Another moan forces its way through Harry’s clenched teeth. “You won’t be laughing when I’m fucking you at the same pace you’re teasing me right now.”

Y/N’s movements stutter for the first time since she began. “What?”

“Didn’t think of that, did you, minx?  Thought you could tease me, and I wouldn’t get you back?” Although Harry’s words are domineering, he pants through them, throwing his head back against the pillow. “That—Christ—That’s not how it works.”

Speeding up her stroking of his length, Y/N leans over Harry’s body, sponging a kiss just at the corner of his lips. “You don’t mean that, Harry.  You need to fuck me just as badly as I need it.”

“You need it, do you?” Harry’s eyes snap open, lust completely clouding the jade green of his irises. “How badly?  Tell me.”

Y/N kisses him once more, pulling back the moment his tongue tries to pull her in for more.  She returns her mouth to the tip of his cock, letting her tongue flick over his slit before sucking on him again. “So badly, Harry. I’ve never felt as full as I did with you in me…”

“Oh fuck…” Harry’s words slip into drawn out moans as he tugs on his own hair, his hips stuttering up into her hand again. “Stop.”

The sudden command makes Y/N pause, and she pulls her mouth off of Harry’s length to stare up at him with wide eyes. “What?” Her hand pauses its motions, but stays wrapped loosely around his base. “Is—is everything okay?  Did I hurt you?”

The concern and fear in Y/N’s voice is enough to snap Harry out whatever headspace he had been slipping into. “No, pet, you didn’t hurt me.  I just need to be inside your tight cunt.  Can’t stand another moment without it, if I’m honest.”

The twitch of his cock in her hands confirms his words, and Y/N gives one last lick to its biggest vein before releasing him.  She keeps her mouth in use, however, by sponging kisses up Harry’s already marked chest, stopping only once she reaches his lips.

The kiss they share is passionate, with a rhythm finally established between the two of them as Harry slots his plump lips neatly between hers.  There’s no awkward turning of their heads, trying to find a way to slip a tongue into a mouth, and no teeth clicking together.  Already, each of them knows the best way to fit together, as if they were meant to all along.

“How do you—” Harry mutters the words against Y/N’s lips, his breath flowing into her own panting mouth with every gasp. “How do you want me, love?”

Y/N takes a moment to think, but only a moment. “On top.  I like…” Her cheeks flush with even more heat. “I like feeling you over me. And holding your hands…”

Harry raises a surprised brow at the confession she spills into his mouth. “My hands?”

Forehead still pressed against his, Y/N nods, picking up one of his hands and lacing his ringed fingers through her own. “Mhmm.  They’re strong, and…and they fit in mine so nicely.” Y/N glances at Harry through her lashes, shy despite having his cock in her mouth less than a minute ago.  It’s the intimacy, she realizes.  A sexual act is nothing new to her, but putting emotion behind it…

“They do fit together well, don’t they?” Harry agrees, squeezing her hand as he leans forward, pressing puckered lips to her forehead. “Alright, then.  Lie down for me.”

After Harry grabs a condom from Y/N’s bag and rolls it on, it takes a moment for the two of them to get positioned comfortably.  Y/N leans back on the rumpled sheets, fixing one of the pillows behind her head with Harry’s help.  Once he knows that she’s comfortable, Harry spreads Y/N’s legs again, situating himself between them with his arms propped up on either side of her body.

Although it’s the same position as the last time they had sex, Y/N can’t help but feel like it’s entirely different in every single aspect.  While the drunken need that she felt for Harry had been exciting, and while he had satisfied her incredibly, there’s something different about knowing that she has feelings for the man who’s so interested in pleasuring her, and that he has feelings for her in return.

Harry moves one hand to his length, rubbing the tip of it between Y/N’s soaked folds as his other hand grasps her own. “Are you ready?” He murmurs, his lips hovering just over her own.

Y/N nods quickly, squeezing his hand tightly. “Please, H.  I need it.”

The first thrust into her is slow.  Painstakingly slow.  Y/N knows that she should be appreciative of the restrain Harry has, and that she needs a moment to adjust to his size, but the way he stretches her makes her feel so complete that she can’t help but whine for more.

“Faster, Harry.” She pants, squeezing her eyes shut as he continues to enter her slick entrance. “I…”

“Sh, love.  Just spreading you open first, yeah?” The effort to control himself shows through the strain in his voice, but Harry still manages to sponge a quick kiss over her lips. “Besides…I warned you, didn’t I?  Said I’d tease you if you teased me…”

Y/N whines loudly as Harry finally bottoms out, his hips pressing flush to hers and bringing a kind of euphoric fullness that she’s never felt before. “Oh God…” She drags out her speech, her eyes barely managing to flutter open in time to catch the look on Harry’s face as he feels her walls squeeze him.

His brows are drawn together, an all too familiar crease appearing between them.  It’s a look of concentration, but the pull of his mouth and the quiet pants leaving it tell Y/N that it’s so much more than that. His pupils are blown out, dilated so much that she can barely see the green that she loves so much, and every few moments, Harry’s eyelids flutter, times perfectly with the contraction of Y/N’s pussy around his length.  

“Move, Harry.” Y/N begs, grasping his free hand and squeezing it along with his other hand. “Please.”

Her pleading sends a shiver down Harry’s spine, and he begins to thrust in and out of her slowly, letting her adjust to each pace before gradually increasing his movements. “Like that, pet?” He asks, voice low and thick with pleasure. “Is that what you wanted?”

A whine is all the answer he gets, as Y/N is so far gone past the point of being able to reply with a coherent sentence.  The only thing she can think of is how good it feels to have Harry fill her.  How the feeling of his cock inside her is simultaneously too much for her, the most content she’s ever felt, and not enough to satisfy the ache deep within her.  Every one of her senses is consumed with Harry—the touch of his skin to hers, at her pelvis, over her abdomen, his hands squeezing hers with desperation as he thrusts inside of her repeatedly.  The scent of his cologne mingled with his sweat, so hot and all consuming that the air feels thick with it.  The taste of that scent on the back of her tongue, along with his Merlot flavoured kisses that linger in her mouth.  The sight of him caged over her, his sweaty curls and flushed skin being all that she can see.  The sound of his moans, hot and low in her ear.

Everything is Harry. Had there every been a time where it wasn’t?

When Harry pulls his hands from Y/N’s, a small whimper stumbles out of her mouth, growing louder when his thrusts begin to slow and the ball of tension in her core begins to uncoil. “What—?” She begins, the question still half formed on her tongue when Harry moves his grip to her knees.

In one swift motion, Harry has her left knee over his shoulder, quickly repeating the movement with her right leg as he sponges stuttered kisses over the newly available skin.  “Need to be deeper.” He mutters, pressing a wet and breathless kiss to Y/N’s lips before sitting up for more leverage.  Weaving his fingers back through hers, Harry begins to thrust again, the head of his cock rubbing against new areas with every motion.

And oh.  It’s like an entirely new feeling.  The moans and whimpers are leaving Y/N’s mouth in a steady stream now, with any ability she had to filter her volume gone the moment Harry’s cock presses against her G-spot.

“Fuck, Harry, right there, baby—” Y/N releases one of his hands to throw her arm around his shoulder, digging her nails into the muscled skin as the words of pleasure slip past her lips. “That’s it, that’s so fucking good—”

“Yeah?” Harry grunts, bracing himself against the bed so that he can increase the speed of his movements. “You like how my cock fills you?”

Y/N nods desperately, the movement stuttered as she shakes from both her pleasure and the force of Harry driving his hips into her own. “Yeah, I—fuck, you’re going to make me cum…”

Harry’s face twists in concentration as he removes his braced hand from the bed and trails it down Y/N’s body, pausing just enough so that he can tweak her nipple as he passes by. He continues on until he reaches his destination, and settles his large thumb over her clit to rub fast and concise circles on the bundle of nerves.

“Oh—” Y/N’s back arches off the bed as her nails dig into the skin of Harry’s shoulder, as well as the back of his hand.  She barely manages to pant through her whimpered words. “Fuck, I’m going to cum—”

“Please, baby.” Harry pleads with her, his expression desperate as he stipples more kisses to Y/N’s knees, the only inches of skin that he can get his mouth on as he drives himself harder into her. “Need you to cum for me, I—fuck, minx, I need it more than you know.”

A sharp gasp falls from Y/N’s slick mouth as Harry hits her G-spot again, and the sharp repeated motion combined with his stimulation of her clit is enough to send her barrelling headfirst over the edge.  A desperate sound leaves her mouth, half moan, half whine, as the coil in Y/N’s core snaps, sending shockwaves of pleasure through every inch of her body.  

The reaction is almost instantaneous.  As her body shakes with pleasure, abdomen contracting and releasing over and over, Y/N feels Harry’s hips begin to stutter, his movement growing sloppier as the constriction of her core works Harry to an orgasm.

“Y/N—that’s it, pet, just—yes—” Harry’s words are more coherent than hers, but still just form a string of half put together phrases as he presses himself deep inside her, his eyes snapping shut as he spills inside the condom.  A choked sound works its way out of his throat, pulling from deep within his chest, and the pads of his rough fingers dig into her thighs as he grounds himself throughout his orgasm.  

Y/N’s shuddering climax finishes before Harry’s does, and all she can do is collapse back in the sheets, enjoying the feeling of his cock throbbing inside her one last time before he pulls out slowly to clean himself and throw away the condom.  An involuntary whine, quiet but audible, falls from her lips at the empty feeling that’s left behind, but it’s soon satiated after Harry returns to the bed, wrapping his shaking arms around her and pulling her tight into his chest.

His chest, like her own, is soaked in sweat, covered in dark bruises, and heaving from the aftermath of the orgasm he’s just finished, but it’s the only place Y/N wants to be.  She presses her ear into his skin, his racing heartbeat thumping beneath her head, and she focuses on the pounding pattern as she attempts to catch her breath.

Harry speaks first, clearing his throat before his wrecked voice fills her senses. “That was…that was so fucking good.  I was worried that it wouldn’t be as good as the last time, because we were more sober, but…”

“It was better, yeah. I know.” Y/N agrees, her voice filled with exhaustion and contentment as she kisses over a purple bruise forming on Harry’s collar bone. “I think…I think knowing how we feel made it better.”

“I agree.” Harry’s hands move over her back, his fingertips tracing invisible patterns onto her sweaty skin. “Passionate sex with someone you care for with candles lit…all after the wedding of your best friend…was that romantic enough for you?” There’s a teasing edge to his voice, just barely audible beneath the rasp.

A tired smile lifts the corners of Y/N’s swollen lips. “I suppose so.  But it’s not hard to be, in comparison to others…”

“Well, from now on, you’re going to be comparing to me, yeah?” Harry shifts his arms around her, tightening his grip before reaching for the crumpled sheet to pull it over their bodies. “This’ll be the marker, I suppose.  And I’ll have to work on raising the bar with everything I do for you.”

“What about what I’ll do for you?” Y/N just barely manages to raise her head off Harry’s chest enough to look at him. “This is a two way street, you know.  I have to romance you, too.”

“Mm.  True.” Harry hums as he resumes tracing patterns on Y/N’s skin. “How about you stop making fun of my taste in romantic movies?  I’d like to watch The Notebook without you poking fun at it.  If you’re laughing at all the emotional scenes, it makes me feel pathetic when I cry at them.”

Y/N laughs quietly as she rakes her fingers through Harry’s sweaty curls. “That’s asking too much from me. How about…I can still make fun of your taste in romantic movies, but I’ll hold you and comfort you when you cry at the really dumb scenes?”

An exhausted snort rolls through Harry’s chest, but there’s a degree of tenderness hidden in the sound. “I suppose that’s the best offer I’ll get, isn’t it?”

“You suppose right.” Y/N sighs contently, her eyes drifting shut as she settles herself into Harry’s chest.  The feeling of the subtle rise and fall of his muscles is enough to soothe her to sleep, and she’s just settling in for what she thinks may be the best sleep of her life when her head suddenly drops as Harry abruptly pulls away from her.

“Harry—” Y/N’s eyes snap open as she pulls herself into an upright position, any feeling of calm that she had a moment ago gone out the window. “What the fuck?”

A sheepish Harry smiles at her from the dresser. “We left the candles lit, love.” He says, blowing out the three lit candles on the wooden surface before walking to one of the bedside tables, where four more candles are lit. “It’s not safe.”

“No, you know what’s no safe?  Jerking your girlfriend from her sleep when she’s exhausted, and has to be up early tomorrow.” Y/N rolls her eyes as she flops back into the pillows.

Harry blows out the last candle before sliding back into the bed. “Would you rather I let the cabin burn down?  That wouldn’t be very romantic of me, now would it?”

Turning over on her side, Y/N faces the wall away from Harry. “You’re an asshole.”

“Don’t be mean.” Harry’s pout is tangible in the press of his lips to her bare shoulder. “We were having a moment!”

“Not anymore.”

“You don’t mean that.” Harry laughs as he wraps his arms around Y/N, pulling her to spoon into his chest. “Just go to sleep.  You’ll be less grumpy in the morning.”

“Fuck off.” Y/N mutters, but she allows herself to be held against Harry as his breathing once again soothes her to sleep.

…

“Are you sure I can’t drive?”

Harry laughs as he shuts the loaded trunk of the Impala, the sound echoing off the trees around them and scaring a few birds that had settled in the branches. “After that disaster in Nebraska?  No way.”

“Did you let her drive Stevie?” Laure asks, shock woven through her voice as her eyes flicker between Y/N and Harry. “Really?”

“No, I let her try to drive Stevie.  And then she stalled her, and lost all driving privileges forever.” Harry replies with a snort, shrugging his jacket onto his shoulders as his keys jangle in his hands. “So I’ll be driving the forty-two hours back to L.A.”

Y/N crosses her arms with an irritated sigh. “Whatever.  Don’t complain to me when you get stiff from being in one position for eight hours a day.”

As Harry rounds the back of the car, he shoots Y/N a smug grin, walking up behind her to wrap his warm arms around her waist. “But you’ll give me massages, won’t you, baby?  I’d really appreciate them…”

“Okay, this is still weird for me.” Jo says slowly, shaking her head as her eyes flicker between their intertwined pose and Laure, who looks equally as bemused. “A week ago, we had to practically beg Harry to drive you, Y/N, and now you’re…?”

“It was bound to happen, wasn’t it?” Harry asks, resting his chin on Y/N’s shoulder with a smirk. “No woman could last five days with me while resisting the Styles charm…”

Y/N shrugs his chin off her shoulder with a snort. “Right.” She scoffs as she unravels his hands from her waist. “The Styles charm.  We’ll pretend that’s a thing.”

Harry pouts as Y/N pulls away from him, his arms still outreached and trailing after her. “It is a thing!”

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N walks over to Jo, wrapping her arms around the girl tightly as the crisp morning air sends a shiver down her spine. “Congratulations, Jo.  Have fun on your honeymoon.”

Although Jo hugs her back with a smile, there’s something lingering under the sweet expression. “Thank you.” She speaks in her normal tone, but waits until her lips are right by Y/N’s ear to lower her voice. “The moment you arrive back in L.A., I expect a three hour phone call explaining how all of this happened.  Is that understood?”

“You’re so demanding. I would have thought you’d be more mature now that you’re married.” Y/N laughs as she pulls out of the hug, turning to Laure and giving her a tight squeeze before walking to the car.  She leans against the cool metal of the passenger side as Harry rounds around to the driver’s side, having said his goodbyes right after she did.

“I’m serious!  The last time we talked about Harry, you threatened to cut off his—”

Laure takes Jo’s hand, squeezing it hard as she bites her lip to keep from laughing. “Okay, darling, that’s enough.  Just be thankful they’re not arguing anymore, yeah?  Maybe we’ll finally be able to have a wine night that doesn’t end with someone flipping a charcuterie board.”

The memory of Laure and Jo’s four year anniversary party brings a sheepish smile to Y/N’s face, and she watches as the realization hits Jo, who gives a satisfied nod to Laure before the latter presses her lips to her cheek.

Harry, however, is less amused, and shoots a questioning glance at Y/N over the hood of the car. “Wait, when did you threaten to cut something of mine off?”

“Oh, it was just a joke, Harry.” Y/N waves off his concern as she opens the passenger door with a click. “It’s nothing you have to worry about, as long as you don’t piss me off too much.”

“Right.” Harry says slowly, climbing inside the car as Y/N does the same.  “I’ll do my best.”

Harry starts the car with an easy and practiced motion, shifting it into reverse and pulling away from the mountainside resort as the two of them give one last wave to Jo and Laure through the passenger window.  Once they’re back on the winding mountain road, Y/N grabs Harry’s phone from its usual spot in his cup holder, scrolling through his music library with interest.

“What do you feel like listening to?” She asks curiously, her eyes scanning over the now familiar titles indecisively. “Something fast?  Something mellow?”

Harry shifts the car into second gear before grabbing Y/N’s free hand, brushing his pink lips over the back of her knuckles in a gentle motion. “I don’t really care.” He says with a shrug, winding his fingers through her own before lowering their hands between their seats. “Anything you want.”

The comment of free reign causes Y/N’s eyes to widen in disbelief. “Really?” She asks incredulously, and when Harry gives a confirming nod, she quickly settles on “Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” leaning back in her seat as the familiar guitar riff fills the car.

From the corner of her eye, she watches Harry’s nose wrinkle as his eyebrows crease beneath his sunglasses. “Actually, I changed my mind.” He says lowly, swiping his thumb over her knuckles in a motion of apology. “Not this song.”

Y/N lets out a groan as she presses her head back into the head rest. “For fuck’s sake, H—”

“I’m not feeling it! It just doesn’t suit this time of day, or this scenery—”

“We have forty-two hours left in this trip, and you’re already pissing me off.  Do you want something to get cut off?” Yanking her hand from his own, she grabs his phone again and opens it with a harsh sigh. “Okay, what do you want to listen to?”

“I told you.” Harry taps his fingers against the steering wheel as he risks a glance at her, gauging if the irritation in her voice matches the irritation on her face. “Whatever you want to listen to.”

Y/N allows herself a quiet snort, but makes no other comment on the contradictory statement. “Fine.” She says shortly, scrolling through his songs for another moment before clicking on “Strangers”. “How’s that?”

Harry raises his now empty hand defensively before finding her own again, squeezing it gently. “Good, love.  It’s good.”

“Good.” Y/N gives a short sigh of relief, settling back into her seat again as a new guitar riff begins to sound through the car speakers.

The first verse of the song has barely finished when Harry clears his throat thickly, the corner of his lip just barely twitching up. “You know, actually—”

“Stop the car.”