#stylish saturday

[axelwolf8109]

Whoever gave Dylan the idea for the all black look tonight, thank you

[021894s]

TANGLED DESIRES- p.sh

PAIRING: enemy!sunghoon x f!reader

SYNOPSIS: At a prestigious private school, you and Park Sunghoon are locked in a constant rivalry. During a party at your friend Karina’s, a heated argument between you two escalates into an unexpected, passionate encounter. The next morning, you wake up in his arms, forcing both of you to confront the new, complicated tension between you. As you navigate the fallout and shifting feelings, you start to question if your biggest enemy might actually be something much more.

GENRE: enemies to lovers, rich kids au

WARNINGS: smut (unprotected sex, oral sex) rivalry, hurt feelings, angst. ALL ARE OF AGE

wc: 15.4k

You attend the most prestigious school in Korea, where the sky-high tuition fees are only accessible to those born into pure wealth. This elite institution is a playground for the richest families, and your name is synonymous with success. Your family, being the owners of one of Korea’s top corporations, you seem to have everything at your fingertips—a glamorous life of luxury, an enviable social circle, and endless opportunities.

To the outside world, you’re the quintessential rich girl: impeccably stylish, effortlessly popular, and seemingly flawless. Yet beneath this polished veneer lies a different reality. Despite your privileged upbringing, you’re kind-hearted, fiercely intelligent, and deeply dedicated to everything you do. Your friend group, including Jake, Jay, Heeseung, Sunoo, Niki, Jungwon, Yuna, and Karina, forms a close-knit circle that navigates the pressures of their world together.

But there’s always been one glaring exception: Park Sunghoon. The feud between the two of you is infamous, an unspoken tension that pulses beneath the surface of your otherwise harmonious friendships. No one really knows how it started, and no one seems to care enough to unravel it. Instead, everyone just tolerates your constant bickering.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The lunch table is alive with conversation, the usual chatter amplified by the excitement of the latest gossip. Karina sits comfortably beside Heeseung, leaning into him with an easy confidence that only she can pull off. She’s in the middle of talking about her parents’ latest venture—something about opening another resort somewhere exotic—when she casually drops the bomb.

“So, they’re gone for the whole weekend,” she says, her voice loud enough to catch everyone’s attention. “And you know what that means…”

Jake perks up immediately, his eyes bright. “Party?”

Karina grins. “Obviously. Saturday night, my place. No theme this time, just show up and bring your best energy.”

Yuna claps her hands in excitement. “Finally! It’s been forever since the last one. I was starting to forget what a real party looks like.”

Jay laughs. “As if you’d ever forget. You practically live for these things.”

Yuna sticks her tongue out at him, but her smile doesn’t waver. “Guilty as charged.”

Heeseung wraps an arm around Karina’s shoulders, looking amused. “You’re not worried about your parents finding out?”

She rolls her eyes. “Please, they won’t even notice. And even if they do, what’s the worst that could happen? They’ll just buy me something to make up for being gone.”

“Must be nice,” Niki mutters, leaning back in his chair.

Sunoo nudges him with a grin. “Oh, come on, don’t act like you’re not excited. You were the first one to ask about the music last time.”

Niki shrugs, but he can’t hide his smile. “Yeah, well, only if it’s not Sunghoon’s terrible playlist again.”

You glance across the table, catching Sunghoon’s eye. He’s lounging back in his chair, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “My playlist was fine, thank you very much,” he retorts. “It’s not my fault you have no taste.”

You snort. “Please, Sunghoon, your taste in music is as bad as your taste in everything else.”

He looks over at you, eyebrow raised. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrug, feigning innocence. “Nothing, just that your definition of ‘good’ is highly questionable.”

He chuckles, the sound low and irritatingly smug. “Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Karina cuts in, sensing the rising tension. “Alright, let’s not turn this into another one of your little spats. Save it for the party, okay?”

Sunghoon smirks, still looking at you. “Looking forward to it already.”

You roll your eyes but can’t resist shooting back, “Don’t get too excited, I might just ignore you all night.”

“Oh, the horror,” he replies, his voice dripping with mock terror. “How will I ever survive?”

Jay laughs, nudging Jake. “You know, one day they might actually get along.”

Jake shakes his head, grinning. “Nah, where’s the fun in that?”

Karina steers the conversation back to the party details, running through a list of essentials while Heeseung nods along, offering suggestions. “Invite whoever you want,” she says, “oh except luci, last time I caught her giving mark head in my parents bedroom, I haven’t been able to go in there since.”

You laugh and nod in agreement, trying not to notice how Sunghoon is still watching you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you wonder what’s going through his head, but then you push the thought away. Whatever it is, it’s probably nothing you need to worry about.

Karina claps her hands, bringing the attention back to her. “So, everyone’s in?”

There’s a chorus of agreement, and the table erupts into a mix of laughter and excited chatter as plans start to form. You glance over at Sunghoon one more time, catching his eye for a brief second before looking away. This party is already shaping up to be interesting… and you have a feeling that’s an understatement.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The lunch buzz still lingers in your ears as the group makes its way back across the pristine campus grounds. The sunlight reflects off the sleek, modern architecture of the school’s main building, and you can’t help but admire the way everything here seems to sparkle—like even the bricks and mortar are aware of the school's prestige.

You find yourself walking beside Karina, who’s still chatting excitedly about the party, while Heeseung stays close, throwing in a comment or two. Yuna and Sunoo are a few steps ahead, their heads bent together as they giggle over something on Sunoo’s phone. You catch Jake and Jay trailing behind, still debating something about sports cars or the best summer destinations.

Just as you’re about to reach the entrance, you feel a presence beside you. You don’t need to turn your head to know who it is; Sunghoon always manages to sidle up to you when you least expect it.

“What, are you following me now?” you ask, not breaking your stride.

He chuckles. “Oh, please. Don’t flatter yourself. It just so happens our lockers are in the same direction.”

“Right,” you drawl, rolling your eyes. “Like you don’t go out of your way to annoy me.”

He glances at you, smirk still firmly in place. “Maybe I just like seeing you get all riled up. It’s entertaining.”

You shoot him a glare, but before you can fire back a retort, the group reaches the main hallway. The chatter from the student body fills the air, a mix of excitement and post-lunch drowsiness. The smell of expensive cologne and designer perfumes lingers in the air, an unmistakable signature of the school’s elite.

Karina stops at her locker, Heeseung leaning against it with a casual arm draped over her shoulder. She turns to you, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “So, you’re coming early on Saturday, right? I need a hand setting things up.”

You nod, grateful for the distraction from Sunghoon. “Of course. I’ll be there.”

“Great!” She beams. “And maybe you can help me make sure everything stays under control. You know how things can get with this crowd.”

Heeseung laughs softly. “Good luck with that. I don’t think anyone’s ever managed to keep Sunoo and Niki under control for more than five minutes.”

As if on cue, Sunoo pops up beside you with a grin. “I heard that, Heeseung! I’m an angel, thank you very much.”

Niki appears at his side, raising an eyebrow. “An angel of chaos, maybe.”

The group laughs, and you feel the tension in your shoulders ease. It’s moments like these that make all the bickering and drama feel worth it.

But then, just as you’re about to make another comment, Sunghoon’s voice cuts through the noise. “So, Y/N,” he says casually, “what are you going to wear to the party? Let me guess… something that screams ‘trying too hard’?”

You whip your head around, narrowing your eyes at him. “And what are you planning on wearing, Sunghoon? Something that screams ‘I own everything but a personality’?”

There’s a collective gasp from your friends, followed by a chorus of laughter. Sunghoon raises his eyebrows, feigning a look of hurt. “Ouch, that one actually stung a little. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

You cross your arms, feeling a triumphant smile tug at your lips. “I’ve got plenty more where that came from. Try me.”

He leans in slightly, lowering his voice just enough that only you can hear. “Maybe I will,” he says, his eyes flicking over you in a way that makes your pulse quicken. “But you’re going to have to do better than that if you want to get under my skin.”

You’re about to retort when a voice interrupts. “Can we get through one day without you two turning everything into a competition?” Jay sighs, looking exasperated. “Seriously, it’s exhausting just watching you.”

Jake nods in agreement, though he’s grinning. “You guys need to find a new hobby. Preferably one that doesn’t involve verbal sparring in the middle of the hallway.”

You shrug, unable to resist the urge to keep poking at Sunghoon. “I’m open to suggestions, but I doubt Sunghoon has any better ideas.”

Sunghoon leans back, crossing his arms with a playful smile. “Oh, I’ve got plenty of ideas. But I think you’d be too scared to try them.”

Before you can respond, the bell rings, signaling the end of lunch. Karina groans. “Ugh, saved by the bell. I guess we’ll have to pick this up later.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

As everyone starts to disperse to their respective classes, Sunghoon gives you one last look, a challenge in his eyes. “Don’t worry, Y/N,” he says smoothly. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart is beating just a little faster. You can’t help but wonder what exactly he’s planning… and why a part of you is actually looking forward to finding out.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The day of the party arrives with a crisp, clear sky and a hint of excitement that seems to permeate every corner of the city. You wake up early, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervous energy. Karina had texted you the night before, reminding you to come over in the afternoon to help set up for the party. You agreed eagerly, knowing that any opportunity to help would give you something to focus on and take your mind off the strange tension building between you and Sunghoon.

When you arrive at Karina’s mansion, the house is buzzing with activity. Karina’s housekeeper greets you at the door with a warm smile, directing you to the large, open-plan living area where Karina is already busy coordinating the decorations with a small army of helpers. The space is being transformed into a glamorous party venue with twinkling lights, elegant table settings, and a dance floor that looks like it’s straight out of a high-end club.

Karina spots you as soon as you walk in, her face lighting up with relief and excitement. “Y/N! Perfect timing. I’m so glad you’re here. We could use an extra pair of hands.”

You smile, rolling up your sleeves. “What can I do to help?”

Karina hands you a stack of neatly folded napkins and points towards a table covered with party favors. “Start by setting these up on the tables. I want everything to look perfect tonight.”

You get to work, organizing napkins and arranging snack trays, chatting with Karina about the last-minute details. The hours fly by as you work alongside her, the room gradually coming together into a setting that is unmistakably Karina’s style—classy, sophisticated, and just a bit over the top.

As the afternoon drifts into evening, Karina claps her hands and gathers you for a brief break. “Alright, it’s time for a quick change. You’ve been working so hard, and I want you to look as fabulous as the rest of the evening.”

You raise an eyebrow, half-teasing. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Karina waves her hand dismissively. “you don’t want me to answer that. cmon you’re hot, why not show off a little?”

Before you can protest, Karina ushers you into her bedroom and pulls out a sleek, little black dress from her closet. The dress is short and simple with a cut that accentuates your figure without being too revealing.

“Put this on,” Karina insists, handing you the dress. “Trust me, you’ll look amazing. And don’t worry about the hair and makeup; I’ve got that covered too.”

You change quickly, admiring the way the dress fits and the way it makes you feel more confident and glamorous. When you step out of the room, Karina is waiting with a professional-looking makeup kit and a few hair tools.

As she works on your hair and makeup, she chatters away, filling the room with her usual upbeat energy. “you look sexy”

You smile at her reflection in the mirror. “Thanks, Karina. You don’t think it’s a bit much? It’s definitely more out there than I usually go for”.

Karina beams, finishing up with a final touch of lipstick. “babe there’s no such thing as too much. And who knows, maybe you’ll catch someone eye tonight,” she tells you with a wink.

With a laugh and a final look at yourself in the mirror, you feel a surge of excitement. The dress feels perfect, and the makeup and hair make you look polished and ready for the night. As you head back downstairs, you catch sight of Karina’s smile of approval, and you can’t help but feel a bit more confident about the evening ahead.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The music starts pumping through the walls as you and Karina make your way back downstairs. The final touches have been set, and the room looks like a scene straight out of a teen movie: fairy lights strung up in every corner, a couple of disco balls catching the light just right, and a dance floor that practically begs people to let loose. Karina surveys everything with a grin that stretches from ear to ear.

“See?” she says, nudging you with her elbow. “This is why I always go all out.”

You chuckle, glancing around. “Okay, okay, you were right. This does look kind of amazing.”

The doorbell rings, and Karina practically bounces on her toes. “That must be the first guests! Come on, we have to greet everyone in style.”

The two of you rush to the front door, and soon enough, your friends start streaming in. Sunoo is the first to arrive, with Niki and Jungwon right behind him. They all look ready to have the best night ever, and Sunoo immediately zeroes in on you, his eyes going wide.

“Oh. My. God. Y/N!” Sunoo exclaims dramatically, clutching his chest. “Look at you in that little black dress! Who is she?!”

You roll your eyes, fighting back a grin. “Alright, Sunoo, calm down. It’s just a dress.”

“It’s not just a dress,” Niki interjects with a grin. “It’s the dress. Who are you trying to impress tonight?”

Jungwon nudges Niki. “Yeah, spill. Is there someone you’re hoping to catch the eye of?”

You smirk, crossing your arms. “Oh, please, like I’d tell you guys even if there was.”

More of your friends arrive, and soon the room is buzzing with chatter and laughter. Jake and Jay show up not long after, both of them effortlessly cool as always. Jay immediately gets to work DJ-ing from his phone, while Jake heads to the makeshift bar, already concocting a round of mixed drinks.

Then, just as you start to relax, you see him—Park Sunghoon. He steps in, looking annoyingly good in a casual black button-down and jeans. His eyes scan the room until they find you. For a split second, he looks almost surprised, but then his trademark smirk appears.

“Well, well,” Sunghoon says as he strolls over to you, hands casually shoved into his pockets. “Look who decided to play dress-up. You got a hot date tonight or something?”

You scoff, giving him a look. “Oh, please, Sunghoon. Unlike you, I don’t have to try so hard to impress everyone.”

Sunghoon chuckles, leaning in just slightly. “Right. Because you just show up looking like that for fun?”

Before you can shoot back a retort, Karina swoops in, looping her arm through yours. “Hey, Sunghoon, quit being a troll. Y/N looks amazing, and you know it. Now go get a drink and try to be nice for once!”

He holds up his hands, his grin widening. “Alright, alright, I’ll behave... for now.”

You watch as he saunters off to join Jake at the bar, and Karina gives you a knowing look. “Don’t let him get under your skin tonight, okay?”

You nod, trying to brush it off, even though you’re still buzzing from his teasing. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The party is in full swing now—music thumping, people laughing, and the lights twinkling overhead like stars. You find yourself swept up in the fun, moving from one conversation to the next, the earlier tension with Sunghoon momentarily forgotten. You’re by the snack table, popping a few chips into your mouth when Haechan sidles up next to you with his signature grin.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says smoothly, leaning in a little closer than necessary. “Looking good tonight. That dress is seriously working for you.”

You smile at him, amused by his blatant flirting. “Thanks, Haechan. You’re not looking too bad yourself,” you reply, playing along. He’s always been a harmless flirt, and you don’t mind the attention tonight.

He grins wider, clearly pleased. “I try. But seriously, I can’t believe I’m just now noticing how stunning you are. Were you hiding this whole time or just waiting for the perfect moment to make your grand entrance?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, you know me. Always dramatic,” you joke, and he chuckles, leaning in a bit more.

“You’re full of surprises, Y/N. Makes me want to know you better,” he says, his voice dropping slightly, and you can’t help but laugh at his over-the-top delivery.

What you don’t notice is that from across the room, Sunghoon has been watching the entire interaction with a growing frown. He’s leaning against a wall, a drink in hand, his eyes narrowing as he watches Haechan lean closer to you, flashing that charming smile. His jaw tightens, and his grip on the cup becomes visibly tighter.

Heeseung, who’s been standing beside him, follows his line of sight and notices the tense look on his friend’s face. A knowing grin spreads across Heeseung’s lips as he leans over to Sunghoon, nudging him with his elbow.

“Someone looks like they’ve got their feathers ruffled,” Heeseung teases, keeping his voice low so only Sunghoon can hear.

Sunghoon scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Sure,” Heeseung laughs. “That’s why you’ve been glaring at Haechan like you’re ready to knock that grin off his face.”

Sunghoon doesn’t respond right away, but his eyes remain fixed on you and Haechan. Heeseung watches with amusement, clearly enjoying the show.

“Just admit it, man,” Heeseung continues, his tone light. “You’re jealous.”

Sunghoon finally looks away from you, giving Heeseung a dismissive look. “I’m not jealous. I just don’t like seeing him act like a fool.”

Heeseung snorts. “Right. Because you’re so worried about Haechan embarrassing himself.” He claps a hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder. “Come on, dude, just go talk to her. Or are you afraid she’ll turn you down?”

Sunghoon shoots him a glare. “Shut up, Heeseung.”

Heeseung just laughs harder, clearly unbothered by Sunghoon’s mood. “Alright, whatever you say. But just so you know, glaring at Haechan isn’t going to do anything except make you look more obvious.”

Sunghoon doesn’t answer, but Heeseung’s words seem to hit a nerve. He turns his attention back to you, his expression unreadable, though there’s still a flicker of something in his eyes—something more than just casual interest.

Meanwhile, you’re still chatting with Haechan, completely unaware of the little drama unfolding across the room. But you can’t shake the feeling that someone’s watching you, and when you finally glance up, your eyes meet Sunghoon’s for just a second. He quickly looks away, and you can’t help but wonder what that was all about.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The party continues to buzz around you, but after a while, the noise and energy start to feel a bit overwhelming. You decide you need a break, a moment to yourself away from the chaos. Without saying anything, you slip out of the crowded living room and head toward the balcony, where the air is cooler and the music is just a muffled hum in the background.

You push open the glass doors and step outside, letting the crisp night air hit your face. It’s a welcome change from the warmth inside. You lean against the railing, taking a deep breath, trying to clear your mind. The stars are faint above the city lights, and you can hear distant sounds of traffic, a reminder of the world continuing outside this little bubble of a party.

You close your eyes for a moment, just enjoying the quiet. But then, you hear the soft sound of footsteps behind you. You turn, half-expecting to see Karina or maybe Sunoo, but your heart skips a beat when you see Sunghoon stepping out onto the balcony.

“What do you want, Sunghoon?” you sigh, not bothering to hide your annoyance.

“I could ask you the same thing” he replies, his voice closer than you expected. You feel the warmth of his body behind you, jus inches away. “Running away from the party?”

”Hardly.” You glance over your shoulder at him. “Just needed a break from all the fakes and liars inside.”

His lips curl into that familiar, infuriating smirk. “And here I thought you thrived on that type of thing. Who knew Y/N had limits?”

You roll tour eyes, turning back to the view. “Yeah, well, believe it or not I do. But you wouldn’t know anything, would you?”

Sunghoon steps closer, his breath brushing against your ear, sending an unwanted shiver down your spine. You feel a rush of heat flood your cheeks and something else you refuse to acknowledge. “You don’t know anything about me, Sunghoon. And id keep it that way if I were you.”

He laughs, a deep, rich sound that makes your skin prickle. “I think you like it when I get under your skin. Why else do you always react like this?” You scoff, turning to face him, only then realizing how close he actually was. “Maybe i’m just tired of you acting like you’re gods gift to the world. newsflash: you’re not.”

His grin widens, and he takes another step closer, invading you’re space entirely as if he wasn’t already to begin with. “Admit it.” he says, his voice dropping lower. “You like our little games. You like the way I push your buttons.”

Your heart is pounding now, and you hate that he’s right, that there’s something about him that gets to you in a way no one else does.But you refuse to five him the satisfaction of knowing it. “In your dreams,” you snap, though the breathlessness in your voice betrays you.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing your arm, and you feel a jolt of heat at the contact. “Is that so?” he whispers, his lips dangerously close to yours now, his eyes dark with challenge. “Because I think you’re lying. I think you want this as much as I do.”

Your breath hitches, and for a moment, you’re frozen, caught in his gaze. The intensity in his eyes makes your pulse race, a mix of anger and undeniable attraction. He’s so close now that you can feel his breath your lips, and before you can stop yourself, you grab his shirt, pulling him the last few inches towards you.

“Maybe I just want to shut you up,” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper. “Then do it,” he taunts, his lips brushing against yours, almost but not quite a kiss. It’s all the encouragement you need. You close the distance, your mouth crashing against his. His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, and you press against him, fueled by a mix of anger and desire.

The kiss is intense, a battle of wills as much as it is anything else. His lips are firm, demanding, and you meet him with equal force, neither of you willing to give an inch. Your hands move up to his hair, tugging slightly and he groans against your mouth, deepening the kiss.

You’re lost in it. Lost in him, every nerve in your body alight with sensation. His hands slide up your back, his touch sending sparks through you, and you hate how much you crave it, hate how much you want him despite everything.

You’re breathless when you finally pull back, your heart hammering against your ribs. Sunghoon’s lips are parted, his breaths coming in ragged, and his eyes are dark with something dangerous—something you know you shouldn’t be entertaining.

His hand is still on your waist, his thumb brushing the exposed skin just beneath the hem of your shirt, and you swear every nerve in your body is on fire. He leans in close, his lips grazing your ear, and his voice comes out in a low, almost pleading murmur. “Come back to my place.”

It isn’t a question, but there’s something in his tone that sends a shiver down your spine, a combination of hunger and desperation that mirrors what’s coursing through your veins. For a moment, you’re tempted—so, so tempted to just say yes and give in to whatever this is. But logic fights its way to the surface, and you pull back just enough to meet his gaze.

“Are you serious?” you ask, your voice wavering more than you’d like.

His expression doesn’t falter, his eyes locked onto yours. “Dead serious.” He swallows, his grip on your waist tightening, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “I don’t want this to end here.”

You hesitate, your mind racing. This is Sunghoon—Park Sunghoon—the guy you’ve spent so long arguing with, glaring at across rooms, doing everything in your power to avoid. But there’s something different about the way he’s looking at you now, something raw and real that makes it hard to think clearly.

“I don’t know,” you say, trying to sound firm, though your resolve is crumbling by the second. “I mean… this is crazy.”

“Maybe,” he agrees, his voice still low, still laced with that edge of desperation. “But I think you like crazy.” His lips curl into a half-smile, that familiar cockiness tempered with something else, something softer.

You bite your lip, weighing your options, feeling the tension between you both—hot, magnetic, impossible to ignore. “This is a bad idea,” you whisper, though even you can hear the lack of conviction in your words.

Sunghoon steps closer, closing the distance again, his forehead almost touching yours. “Probably the worst,” he says, his breath hot against your skin. “But if you don’t say yes, I’m going to lose my mind.”

You can feel his heartbeat through his shirt, can feel how fast it’s racing, and you know he means it. Part of you is screaming to walk away, to leave now before you make a mistake, but there’s another part—a louder, more reckless part—that’s screaming for you to stay, to see where this goes.

“Just one night,” he murmurs, his lips brushing yours again, barely a kiss, just enough to make you shiver. “No strings, no expectations. Just… us.”

You close your eyes, fighting against every instinct telling you to run. But when you open them again, his gaze is still locked onto yours, and you can’t deny the heat pooling in your stomach, the way your skin tingles with every touch.

“Fine,” you breathe, barely louder than a whisper. “One night.”

His grin is immediate, but there’s relief in it too, and he closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours again, this time harder, more insistent. “Let’s get out of here,” he says against your mouth, his hand sliding to intertwine with yours, and you know there’s no going back now.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

You manage to sneak past your friends to leave Karina’s mansion, the partygoers and scattered distractions making it all that more simple.

The drive is quiet, both of you caught in your own thoughts. The city passes by in a blur of neon signs and headlights, the streets quieter than they were earlier. You steal a glance at him, watching the way his jaw clenches, the way his fingers tap against the wheel like he’s counting down the seconds.

Sunghoon pulls up to his mansion, its sprawling, modern architecture framed by towering trees and high walls that ensure absolute privacy. The wide driveway curves up to the grand entrance, where soft lights cast a warm glow over the marble steps and tall double doors. You glance around, taking in the sheer size of the place—not because it surprises you, but because you’ve never been here before.

Your own family’s estate is nothing to scoff at, but there’s a distinct style to his home—something sleek and almost understated, despite its size. You tilt your head slightly, noticing the details: the way the garden is meticulously maintained, the sharp lines of the building softened by the greenery that surrounds it. It’s impressive, in a way that’s different from what you’re used to.

He takes your hand to lead you inside, you follow him down the dimly lit corridor, decorated with family pictures and modern art that costs a fortune. He pauses at his bedroom door, his hand still holding yours, and turns to look at you one more time. “Last chance to change your mind,” he murmurs, though his thumb strokes the back of your hand, a comforting gesture.

You take a deep breath, then shake your head. “I’m not changing my mind.”

A small smile tugs at his lips. “Good,” he whispers, unlocking the door and pushing it open.

You step inside, and he follows, closing the door behind you. The space is dimly lit, warm, and there’s an unexpected coziness to it—minimalistic but comfortable. The air feels thick with everything unspoken between you.

Sunghoon turns to you, his gaze intense, and he steps closer, his hand moving up to your face, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he admits quietly, his voice almost a growl.

Your breath catches, and you feel the heat rush to your face. “Then stop talking,” you murmur, your own voice breathless.

His lips are on yours in an instant, capturing your mouth in a kiss that’s all-consuming, filled with all the tension, the want, the frustration that’s been building for so long. You kiss him back just as fiercely, hands sliding up his chest, feeling his heartbeat pounding beneath your palms.

Sunghoon's hands roamed over your body, squeezing your tits. You let out a small involuntary moan, a grunt leaving him immediately after. His lips move down to your next, trailing up and down before reaching that sweet spot right behind your ear.

It all feels to fucking good, your panties sticking to your core. He moves to sit on the edge of his bed, pulling you into his lap before catching your lips once again. His growing hardness is poking at you. “You look so fucking sexy in this little dress,” He tells you in a low tone that makes you clench around nothing, the ache between your legs growing. You start grinding on him, his hands grabbing your ass, encouraging you to keep grinding against his clothed length. “That’s it baby, grind on me, keep rubbing that pretty pussy over my cock.”

Your head is thrown back, lip in between your teeth, his words encouraging your quickening movements. “Need you so bad, Hoon,” you manage to get out.

“Yeah baby? tell me what you need.” He tells you. It’s almost embarrassing how much you wanted him. “Need your cock.” Without another word you feel his hands back on your ass, lifting you up and throwing you down on his bed. He looks up at you with mischievious eyes, hovering over you as his hands roam down the sides of your thighs to them hem of your dress. “Can i take this off?” he asks, caressing the soft, exposed skin there.

Eagerly, you nod quickly, reaching for the hem to help him pull it up and over your head. Luckily you opted for a pair of black lacy panties and opposed to your more comfortable ones. He audibly sighs and your exposed figure, “You’re so beautiful,” He tells you, his fingers working to slide your panties down your legs and tossing them to the side, revealing just how much you wanted him.

“Shit baby you’re so wet.” He leans down, placing soft, wet kisses just below your navel, dangerously close to where you wanted him most. “Hoon please,” you murmur out. He straightens out, unbuckling his belt to pull down his pants and boxers all in one go. While he wasn’t remarkably long, he made up for it in girth. You lick your lips at the sight, anticipation and heat pooling.

He pumps himself a couple times before he’s lining himself up with your entrance. He takes his time, making sure to smear your slick between your clit and his length. You feel his tip parting your folds, your breath hitching in your throat. “You ready?” his eyes meet yours for assurance. No words come out your mouth, all you do is nod.

He enters you carefully, a strong contrast from his words earlier in the night. The last thing he wants is to rush, just because of how unpatient and horny he is. You close your eyes, holding in the gasp that threatens to escape your lips. “Relax baby, I got you.”

“I know,” you breathe out. The sudden stretch has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. The burn quickly turning into a delicious one. “That’s it,” he praises you continuing to slide in until he’s nestled completely between your walls. “You take me so well,” he grunts, his length twitching inside of you.

“Fuck me, Hoon” you murmur, your walls clench around him, throwing his head back at the feeling. Before you know it he’s pulling out of you, only to smack his hips back against yours. It knocks all the oxygen out your lungs, leaving you breathless as he repeats the same action over and over again. “Fuck,” you breathe out, focusing on how good he looks above you.

You’re in a complete feeling of euphoria. Sunghoon’s skills topping those of the few guys you’ve slept with before. In that moment, all the bickering and years of back and forth leave your mind completely. The only thing closing your mind is how good him of all people is making you feel.

“Hoon… faster,” you let out, his hips snapping in a faster pace on command. Your back arches off the bed, hands grasping the sheets in small fists. He notices and reaches for them to thread his fingers through yours, pinning them above your head. “You like that baby? love how good you feel… fuck you’re so tight. Gonna make you cum so hard.”

“I’m so c-close, fuck,” you breathe out. His thrusts become messier and you know he’s close. “Cum on my cock pretty,” he grunts, hands letting go of yours to grip your hips. Clenching around him, it takes a few for pumps before you’re both coming undone. His cock twitching inside you as he fucks his cum into you.

He drops his sweaty forehead against your shoulder, quick, deep breaths meeting your skin and he comes down from his high. It takes you both a while before your breathing steadys. “You good?,” he asks you, settling on the bed beside you. “mhm,” is all you say in response, unsure as to where this leaves your relationship. It all felt to good to ignore. “Are you good?” you ask him after a moment of silence. “Better than I have in a long time.”

You’re not sure when you fall asleep. The exhaustion taking over you all at once.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The morning light filters softly through the heavy curtains, casting a gentle glow across the room. You wake to the sound of birds chirping outside, their songs a peaceful contrast to the intensity of the night before. The bed is warm, and you’re nestled comfortably under the covers, Sunghoon’s arm draped over you.

You shift slightly, the movement causing Sunghoon to stir beside you. He mumbles something incoherent, tightening his hold on you before settling back into a deeper sleep. You take a moment to just lie there, letting yourself absorb the strange, surreal comfort of the situation. There’s an odd serenity in the room, a calm that feels almost unreal given the whirlwind of emotions that led you here.

As you slowly become more aware, you gently untangle yourself from his embrace, careful not to wake him. You sit up and stretch, glancing around at the elegant room that’s now your temporary sanctuary. The soft morning light highlights the sleek lines and modern decor, giving the space an almost ethereal quality.

You slide out of bed and make your way to the bathroom, feeling a little self-conscious but determined to gather yourself. You glance at yourself in the mirror, trying to process the whirlwind of the past night. The evidence of sleep lingers in your eyes, and you smooth your hair, mentally preparing yourself for whatever comes next.

When you return to the bedroom, Sunghoon is still asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. You take a moment to just watch him, the vulnerability in his expression softened by sleep. There’s a part of you that feels a pang of something—softness, maybe even affection—though you’re still trying to fully understand what it all means.

Deciding not to linger too long, you quietly gather your things and start to get dressed. You’re pulling on your clothes when you hear a rustling behind you. You turn to find Sunghoon blinking awake, his gaze immediately locking on you with a sleepy, yet intense look.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.

You smile softly, trying to keep things light despite the previous night's intensity. “Morning. I didn’t want to wake you.”

He stretches lazily, a smirk forming on his lips. “And here I was thinking you’d sneak out before I even woke up. Not very considerate of you, you know.”

You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize I was supposed to tiptoe around your mansion.”

He chuckles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Yeah, well, you should be lucky you’re not being kicked out for your unexpected visit.”

You roll your eyes, pulling on your shirt. “Oh, please. It’s not like I forced my way in. You made it pretty clear you wanted me here.”

His smirk widens. “True. And now I’m faced with the charming aftermath of our little escapade. How do you intend to handle that?”

You shrug, trying to keep your tone casual. “I think we both know this doesn’t exactly change things. We still don’t like each other. This was… a one-off.”

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “A one-off? That’s what we’re calling it now? What happened to all that intense ‘hate’ from last night?”

You narrow your eyes at him, feeling a bit defensive. “It’s complicated. We both know that. I’m just here to sort myself out.”

He stands up, stretching with a yawn. “Well, I suppose if you’re done with the morning-after drama, I should at least make you breakfast.”

You look at him skeptically. “Breakfast? You’re really pulling out the stops now?”

He gives you a mockingly hurt look. “Don’t sound so surprised. Even enemies deserve to be fed after a night like that.”

You smirk, shaking your head. “Fine. Breakfast it is. But don’t think this means I’m sticking around for a whole lot of chit-chat.”

He grins, clearly pleased with your response. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Just a quick meal and then you can be on your way.”

As he leads you to the kitchen, you both fall into a familiar rhythm, trading barbs and jabs that feel almost comfortable in their own way. The awkwardness of the night before is still there, but it’s tempered by the humor and banter that defines your relationship.

In the kitchen, Sunghoon starts pulling out ingredients, his movements confident and efficient. You watch him, feeling a strange mix of irritation and appreciation. Despite everything, there’s something almost endearing about the way he’s trying to play the gracious host.

“So, what’s the plan after breakfast?” you ask, grabbing a coffee cup and filling it. “Are we going to pretend like nothing happened, or do you have some other grand gesture in mind?”

He looks over at you with a smirk. “Maybe I’ll just enjoy the novelty of seeing you eat my food. Consider it a small victory.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a genuine smile on your lips. “Enjoy it while it lasts. I’m not here for long.”

He chuckles, placing a plate of food in front of you. “Don’t worry, I won’t be offended if you leave right after. I’m sure we’ll find new ways to annoy each other soon enough.”

You take a bite of the breakfast, shaking your head in mock exasperation. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As you eat, the tension from the night before begins to ease, replaced by the familiar dynamic of your interactions. It’s not exactly comfortable, but it’s familiar—a small reminder that despite everything, some things never really change.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The bell rings, signaling the end of the period, you gather your things and stand up, eager to leave the classroom and escape the strange tension that’s been hanging between you and Sunghoon all day. You’re heading toward the door when you feel a light tap on your shoulder. You turn around to find Sunghoon standing close, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Can I help you?” you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Sunghoon leans in, his face just inches from yours. His breath is warm against your ear, and you can feel his proximity even though you try to back away slightly. “You look cute today,” he whispers, his voice low and deliberately teasing.

You freeze for a moment, your heart skipping a beat as his words sink in. You’re taken aback by the unexpected comment, feeling a rush of irritation mixed with something you can’t quite define. You quickly compose yourself, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Seriously?” you hiss, trying to keep your voice low so that no one else hears. “Now you’re trying to play nice? How pathetic.”

Sunghoon pulls back slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m just making an observation,” he says innocently, though the amusement in his eyes betrays him.

You roll your eyes, your frustration evident. “Yeah, well, save it for someone who actually cares. I’m not in the mood for your games.”

As you turn and walk toward the door, you hear Sunghoon’s laughter behind you, light and mocking. You try to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks as you make your way out of the classroom, determined not to let him get under your skin. Despite your efforts to stay composed, his words linger in your mind, adding to the awkwardness and confusion of the day.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Lunch at school is a lively affair, with the cafeteria buzzing with the chatter of students and the clatter of trays. You and your friends—Yuna, Karina, and the rest—settle into your usual spot at the table. Sunghoon and his group are seated across from you, and you can feel his gaze lingering on you, even as you try to focus on the conversation with your friends.

Karina is mid-sentence, animatedly discussing the latest school gossip when Sunghoon's voice cuts through. “Oh, come on, Y/N. You can't actually believe that nonsense.”

You glance up, catching Sunghoon’s eyes. He’s smirking, clearly enjoying the opportunity to poke at you. “And what’s so ridiculous about it?” you retort, trying to keep your voice steady despite the irritation brewing inside you.

“Seriously?” Sunghoon’s grin widens. “It’s just a bunch of exaggerated stories. You’ve always had a knack for falling for that kind of thing.”

You roll your eyes, feeling a familiar annoyance bubbling up. “Says the guy who’s always spouting off about how everything’s ‘not worth his time.’”

Sunghoon leans back in his chair, folding his arms. “At least I don’t get caught up in every little bit of drama that comes my way.”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “I’m not the one who spends half his day looking for ways to pick fights. Maybe if you weren’t so obsessed with making everything a competition, you’d see things more clearly.”

Yuna and Karina exchange glances, trying to stifle their laughter as the two of you go back and forth. Karina nudges you playfully. “Looks like you two are back to your old routine.”

You shoot her a sidelong glance, annoyed but unable to hide a small smile. “Oh, you have no idea.”

Meanwhile, Sunghoon’s eyes are fixed on you, his smirk never fading. Every time you catch him looking, you feel a mix of frustration and unease. His gaze is unrelenting, and despite your best efforts to ignore it, you can’t help but feel self-conscious.

“What are you staring at?” you snap, catching him in the act.

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, his expression innocent. “Just observing. Is that a problem?”

You narrow your eyes, crossing your arms. “Maybe if you had something better to do than harass me, you wouldn’t have to be so nosy.”

He chuckles, leaning forward with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Maybe I just enjoy watching you get all riled up. It’s entertaining.”

You glare at him, feeling your irritation spike. “Yeah, well, it’s not exactly a compliment.”

Sunghoon shrugs, still smirking. “Suit yourself.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

After lunch, you head to your next class with a sense of relief, hoping to escape the tension of the cafeteria. As you settle into your seat, the classroom buzzes with the usual pre-class chatter. You glance around, hoping to avoid any more interactions with Sunghoon, but he’s in the same class, sitting a few rows behind you.

The teacher arrives, and the room quiets down as the lesson begins. You try to focus on the lecture, but the lingering effects of the lunchtime bickering keep your thoughts scattered. Every now and then, you can feel Sunghoon’s eyes on you, though you avoid turning around to confirm it.

Halfway through the class, you feel a small piece of paper land softly on your desk. You glance down to find a note with neat handwriting:

*“Can we at least pretend to be civil? I promise I’m not plotting your demise.”*

You roll your eyes, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. You scribble a quick reply:

“Why start now? It’s more fun to keep you on your toes.”

You fold the note and toss it back over your shoulder, hoping it will reach him without drawing too much attention. A few moments later, you see Sunghoon’s hand reach forward to grab it, his expression unreadable.

The rest of the class proceeds in a blur of lectures and notes. The occasional glances you and Sunghoon exchange are filled with unspoken tension, but you both manage to keep your interactions to a minimum.

At the end of your lecture, you pack up your things and make your way out of the classroom. You’re heading down the hall when you hear Sunghoon’s voice behind you.

“Hey, wait up.”

You stop, turning to see him catching up with you. He’s wearing a casual expression, though there’s a hint of seriousness in his eyes.

“Seriously? What now?” you ask, trying to keep your tone even.

Sunghoon’s gaze lingers on you, and he seems to consider his next words carefully. “So, I was thinking… why don’t you come over to my place later?”

You raise an eyebrow, puzzled. “For what? We already had our… whatever that was.”

Sunghoon gives you a knowing look, his smirk widening. “Come on, you know you’re curious. Besides, you know you want me.”

You feel a rush of heat at his words, and you try to maintain your composure. “And what happened to it being a one-night thing? Are you trying to make this a regular thing now?”

Sunghoon’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “Maybe I am. Or maybe I just want to spend more time with you. Either way, I think you’re interested.”

You hesitate, feeling the pull of his words. The desire that was ignited the night before is still burning strong, and you find yourself tempted despite your better judgment.

With a sigh, you give in, unable to resist the allure of what he’s offering. “Alright, fine. I’ll come over. But just to see what you have in mind.” Sunghoon’s smile broadens, clearly pleased with your decision. “Great. see you later.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Later that night, you stand outside Sunghoon’s, house, or rather mansion. With a deep breath, you ring the doorbelll, and a moment later, Sunghoon opens the door. His eyes rake over you, and there’s that cocky familiar smirk on his face. “Youre here,” he says, stepping aside to let you in. There’s no hint of surprise, just a kind of smug statisfaction, like he knew you’d come.

“Yeah,” you reply, stepping inside “so what’s this all about?” Sunghoon doesn’t answer immediately. He just walks past you, heading into the foyer. You follow, your curiosity piqued, but you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker back to you with that same intent look. He turns around suddenly, before you can even process what’s happening, he’s closing the distance between you, leaning in like he’s about to kiss you.

“Woah wait,” you say quickly, pressing a hand against him firm chest to stop him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Sunghoon pauses, eyebrows raised, but there’s no real apology in his expression. “What do you think in doing?” he counters, his voice low, almost daring him to challenge you. You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing. “I didn’t come here just to… you know.”

He smirks, leaning in just enough that you feel the warmth of his breath. “Then why did you come here?”

You hesitate, caught between wanting to play it cool and the undeniable pull you feel toward him. “Maybe I was curious.” Sunghoon chuckles, “You’re here because you want this, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his hand grazing your hip lightly, testing your boundaries.

You swallow hard, trying to keep your composure. “You think you know everything, don’t you?”

His smirk widens. “I know enough.” He leans in again, and this time, his lips brush against your neck, a bold move that sends a jolt of heat through you. You bite your lip, figuring the urge to melt into his touch. “I didn’t say you could—“

“Then stop me,” he challenges, his voice a whisper against your skin. Your mind races every logical thought battling against the desire that’s been simmering between you since the other night. You hate how easily he gets under your skin, how is arrogance is both infuriating and strangely alluring. But instead of pushing him away, you find yourself lingering, testing the r limits just like he is.

“You’re infuriating,” you mutter, half annoyed, half breathless. He pulls back just enough to look you in the eye, his expression smug but hungry. “Yet I don’t see you walking away.”

You hate that he’s right. Instead of anything else, you meet his gaze head on, feeling that dangerous spark between you flicker into something more. “Just shut up and kiss me,” you say, finally giving in, if only to wipe that smug look off his face. And he does—without hesitation, with the kind of intensity that makes your head spin. It’s heated, unrestrained, and nothing like you imagined, and yet somehow it’s exactly what you wanted.

With a frustrated sigh, you put a hand on his chest and push him back a step. “Okay, seriously, what is this?” you demand, trying to keep your tone steady. “We can’t just keep… doing this whenever we feel like it. It’s stupid.”

He raises an eyebrow, looking way too amused for your liking. “Why not? You look like you’re enjoying yourself.”

You shoot him a glare. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just… I don’t want this to get messy.”

He smirks, clearly entertained by your struggle. “Messy? You mean you don’t want people to know you like kissing me?”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “I don’t like anything about you, Sunghoon. But if we’re being honest, there’s… something here, and I don’t see it going away anytime soon.”

His grin widens, and you want to slap it right off his face. “So, what? You’re proposing a deal?”

You roll your eyes. “Maybe. Friends with benefits. No strings attached, no drama, no catching feelings.”

Sunghoon chuckles, but there’s an edge to it. “Friends? I don’t think we’re even close to that.”

“Fine,” you snap, annoyed that he’s right. “Enemies with benefits then. Just… an arrangement. To get this out of our systems.”

His gaze darkens, and for a second, you think you see something flicker there, something unreadable. But then he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “And what makes you think I’d agree to that?”

You raise your chin, meeting his challenge head-on. “Because you want this just as much as I do. Maybe more.”

He pauses, his lips curling into a slow, wicked smile. “Okay, I’ll bite,” he says, his voice low. “But here’s the deal: we do this my way. No whining, no complaining, and you definitely don’t get to pretend you don’t want it.”

You scowl, hating how cocky he looks, how certain he is that you’ll cave. “Fine,” you bite back. “But don’t think for a second that this means I like you.”

He laughs, the sound rich and mocking. “Trust me, I’d hate it if you did.”

You feel your blood boil at his arrogance, but there’s a thrill in it too, in the way you both seem to enjoy this game. “Deal,” you snap, holding out your hand.

He takes it, but instead of shaking, he pulls you in closer, his lips just inches from yours. “Just remember,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on yours, “this doesn’t change anything. I still can’t stand you.”

You smirk, matching his intensity. “Right back at you.”

And before you know it, his lips are crashing against yours again, and all that frustration and anger blurs into something reckless and wild. For now, you’ll play his game, but you know this is far from over.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Over the next few weeks, the “arrangement” with Sunghoon becomes a twisted game of secrecy and tension. You find yourself sneaking glances in class, meeting him in darkened hallways between periods, and exchanging heated looks across crowded lunch tables. The two of you are constantly dancing on the edge of discovery, and it’s becoming harder to hide the intensity simmering between you.

It starts small. The accidental brush of fingers when passing by in the hallway, the way his eyes linger a little too long when you’re speaking. But then, it escalates. The stolen moments between classes turn into late-night texts and spontaneous meetings wherever you can find some privacy. Empty classrooms, deserted stairwells, even the back of the library—places where no one would think to find the two of you together. The more time passes, the harder it gets to keep up the charade.

You’re starting to notice the way his friends glance between you two, confused by the sudden silences or the shared looks you forget to hide. Jay catches you one morning when you’re walking out of the library with Sunghoon following a few steps behind, your hair slightly mussed, your lips redder than usual.

“What’s going on there?” he asks, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “You and Sunghoon plotting world domination or something?”

You laugh it off, rolling your eyes. “Please. He’s too much of an idiot for that.”

But Jay looks unconvinced, his gaze flicking back to where Sunghoon is standing, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, watching you with a smirk that’s all too knowing. “Sure,” Jay says, dragging out the word like he’s not buying it.

At lunch, it’s even worse. Sunghoon sits across from you, his foot nudging yours under the table. It’s subtle, but it’s enough to send a jolt up your spine. You kick him back, hard, and he just chuckles, leaning back in his chair like he’s thoroughly enjoying the game.

“What are you two whispering about?” Yuna asks, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. You’re both quick to cover it up, but it’s obvious that your friends are starting to catch on.

“Nothing,” Sunghoon says smoothly, his voice annoyingly casual. “Just telling Y/N that she looks like she needs more sleep. Those dark circles are really showing.”

Your jaw clenches, but you force a sweet smile, playing along. “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’ll sleep just fine once I stop seeing your face every day.”

He grins, but there’s a flicker of something more heated in his eyes, something you recognize all too well. “Yeah, right.”

Karina frowns, sensing the tension that seems to hang in the air whenever you two are in the same room. “Seriously, what is up with you guys?” she asks, tilting her head.

You wave it off, laughing a little too loudly. “We’re just being our usual selves. You know how it is—can’t stand each other.”

But your friends are starting to notice the little things. The way Sunghoon’s gaze always seems to drift in your direction, the way you keep sneaking out of group study sessions with flimsy excuses, only to return looking flustered and breathless. Sunoo even catches you and Sunghoon exchanging hushed words in the corner of the hallway, too close for comfort, and he raises an eyebrow, a mischievous grin forming on his lips.

“Are you two planning a secret mission, or is there something else we should know?” he asks, his tone playful but probing.

Sunghoon just shrugs, but you can feel his eyes on you, daring you to say something. “No mission,” he replies coolly, “unless it’s trying to survive Y/N’s terrible attitude.”

You force a laugh, but the heat in your cheeks gives you away. “Yeah, well, some of us have better things to do than deal with you, Sunghoon.”

But it’s getting harder to pretend, harder to keep the fire between you from spilling over in front of everyone else. Every time he’s near, it feels like the world narrows down to just the two of you, a constant push and pull that’s impossible to ignore. The stolen kisses, the midnight texts, the moments of heated bickering that seem to blur into something more—it’s becoming too much to hide.

And it’s only a matter of time before someone figures it out.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

You grip the sheets of your bed, lip caught between your teeth as sunghoon is under your duvet, tonguing your wet entrance, heat pooling in your belly, felling the intensity of your orgasm creeping up on you.

It’s all cut short when your door bursts open without warning, and Karina barges in, her voice already raised. “Y/N, I swear I’m going to lose my mind—!”

You freeze, your heart stopping in your chest. “Karina!” you squeak, quickly yanking the sheets up to your chin. “What happened to knocking?”

Karina stops mid-rant, blinking at you. “Oh, come on, like I ever knock?” she scoffs, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Anyway, you will not believe what Heeseung just did—”

She’s moving closer to the bed, and you panic, shifting slightly to keep Sunghoon hidden beneath the covers. You can feel him tense up, and his hand slips to your thigh under the sheets, pinching you playfully. You bite your lip to stifle a gasp, kneeing him as a warning.

Karina continues her rant, oblivious. “I mean, he had the nerve to ditch me for practice again, and I’m just—ugh, I needed to vent to someone who understands!”

Your mind races, desperately trying to keep her attention away from the suspicious lump between your legs. “That sounds… really frustrating,” you say, a bit too brightly. “But maybe just, you know, talk to him?”

Karina flops down on the edge of your bed, dangerously close to Sunghoon’s concealed figure. “Oh, I’ll talk to him, alright. I’m just so sick of his stupid excuses—”

Sunghoon’s fingers press into your clit under the sheets. He’s grinning, enjoying the situation far too much. You jab him again, your heart racing.

Karina glances at you, finally noticing your tense posture. “Are you okay? You’re acting weird,” she says, her brows furrowing.

You force a laugh, your voice too high. “I’m fine! Just… woke up. Didn’t expect you to burst in like that.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Since when do you care if I burst in? And why are you so… red?”

You feel the heat creeping up your neck. “Uh, just… hot in here,” you stammer, shifting to keep Sunghoon completely out of sight.

Karina looks like she’s about to press further, but then she sighs, clearly more focused on her Heeseung drama. “Whatever, I just needed to get that off my chest. He drives me insane!”

You nod quickly. “Yeah, I get it. He’s… Heeseung, you know?” Karina gives you a small smile, her frustration easing. “Thanks for listening. And seriously, you look so weird right now.”

You laugh nervously. “Yeah, just tired.”

Finally, she stands up, heading toward the door. “Alright, I’ll leave you to… whatever you were doing. I’m gonna go call him and give him a piece of my mind.”

You nod eagerly. “Good luck with that!”

As soon as she leaves, you exhale in relief, lifting the cover to eye Sunghoon, who’s still grinning like an idiot. “What?” he whispers, amused.

“What?” you repeat, incredulous. “You almost got us caught, that’s what!”

He chuckles, pulling you back down under the sheets. “Relax. She didn’t notice a thing.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart is still racing from the close call. “You’re lucky,” you mutter.

Sunghoon just leans in closer, his lips brushing your cheek. “You love the thrill,” he murmurs.

And damn it, you hate that he’s right.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

It's late, the night air cool against your skin as you lean against the wall outside the school building, waiting for Sunghoon. You don't even know why you agreed to meet him here. Maybe because he seemed so insistent, or maybe because a part of you wanted to see him, even though you’d never admit it.

He arrives moments later, his footsteps heavy as he approaches. There’s a different energy about him tonight—something serious, something intense. His usual smirk is nowhere to be found, and his hands are shoved deep into his pockets. He stops in front of you, a little too close, and you have to tilt your head up to meet his eyes.

“What’s this about?” you ask, trying to sound casual, though your heart is pounding in your chest.

He doesn’t answer right away, his gaze boring into yours like he’s searching for something, something he can’t quite find. You shift on your feet, uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

“Sunghoon?” you prompt, your voice wavering just slightly.

He finally speaks, his tone lower than usual. “I’ve been thinking… about us,” he says, the words almost hesitant, like he’s testing them out.

You blink, caught off guard. “Us?”

He nods, his expression serious. “Yeah, Y/N, us. You and me… whatever this is.”

You swallow hard, trying to keep your face neutral. “I thought we agreed it’s nothing,” you reply, but your voice comes out softer than you intended.

Sunghoon’s eyes narrow, frustration flashing in his gaze. “Yeah, that’s what we said,” he agrees, “but it doesn’t feel like nothing to me anymore.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you feel a lump forming in your throat. You’ve never seen him like this—so open, so exposed. “Sunghoon, I don’t know what you’re getting at,” you say carefully.

He takes a step closer, his expression more intense. “I’m saying that I’ve caught myself… thinking about you. A lot. When you’re not around, I’m wondering what you’re doing, who you’re with. I hate that it bothers me when I see you talking to other guys, and I can’t stand the idea of you being with anyone else.”

You feel a wave of panic rising in your chest. This is too much, too fast. You press your back harder against the wall as if trying to create more distance between you. “Sunghoon, this was never supposed to be serious,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I know, and I tried to keep it that way. But every time I see you, every time we’re together… I can’t help it. I don’t want to help it.”

You shake your head, refusing to let his words sink in. “You don’t mean that,” you insist, more to yourself than to him. “You’re just saying this because it’s… new or whatever. It’ll pass.”

Sunghoon’s jaw clenches, and he moves even closer, leaving barely any space between you. “No, Y/N, it won’t. I’ve tried to stop feeling this way, but I can’t. And I know you feel something too, even if you won’t admit it.”

Your pulse quickens, and you feel your resolve starting to crumble. “I don’t—” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“Stop lying,” he says firmly, his voice carrying a hint of desperation. “You’re scared, I get it. But don’t pretend like this is all just a game to you.”

You feel a flash of anger, your defenses rising. “What if it is, Sunghoon? What if I don’t want anything more than what we already have?”

His expression falters for a moment, a flicker of hurt crossing his face. “Then I guess I’ve made a mistake,” he murmurs, taking a step back.

You feel a pang in your chest, a sharp, unexpected ache. “Sunghoon…”

He shakes his head, cutting you off. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

For a second, you want to reach out, to say something, anything, to make that look on his face go away. But the fear of letting your guard down, of admitting that he might be right, keeps you silent.

He takes another step back, his expression hardening. “I won’t bother you about it again,” he says, his voice cold. “Let’s just go back to pretending like none of this ever happened.”

You nod, though you feel a tightness in your throat. “Yeah, let’s do that,” you say quietly, even though your chest aches with a feeling you don’t want to name.

Sunghoon turns and walks away, and you’re left standing there, the cool night air biting at your skin. You watch him go, feeling something inside you break just a little, and you wonder if maybe you’ve made a mistake too.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The next morning at school, everything feels heavier. The halls are crowded, but it’s like there’s a spotlight following you, and you can’t shake the feeling that everyone knows. You make your way to your locker, avoiding eye contact with anyone, especially Sunghoon.

You don’t see him at first, but you feel him—his presence looming in the periphery. It’s like he’s everywhere, watching you, and it makes your skin prickle with nerves. You busy yourself with rearranging your textbooks, trying to calm the storm inside your head.

“Hey, Y/N,” Karina chirps, appearing beside you. Her usual bright smile is there, but her eyes are curious, searching your face. “Are you okay? You seemed a little… off yesterday.”

You force a smile, gripping your locker door tighter than necessary. “Yeah, just tired, I guess.”

She studies you for a second longer, then nods. “Well, you should have come to dinner with us last night. It was a total mess, as always, but fun.”

You nod absently, not really listening. Your eyes flick over Karina’s shoulder and catch Sunghoon’s gaze across the hallway. He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching you with an unreadable expression.

“Y/N?” Karina prompts, bringing your attention back to her. “You’re zoning out again.”

“Sorry,” you mumble. “Just a lot on my mind.”

Karina glances over her shoulder, following your line of sight. Her brow furrows slightly. “You’ve been weird around Sunghoon lately,” she remarks. “Did something happen?”

Your heart skips a beat, and you quickly shake your head. “No, nothing. Why would you think that?”

She shrugs, unconvinced. “I don’t know… Just a feeling.”

You’re saved from having to respond when the bell rings. You grab your books and make a beeline for your next class, trying to ignore the heat of Sunghoon’s stare burning into your back.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Class drags on painfully. You can’t focus. Your mind is a whirlwind of confusion and annoyance. You thought sneaking around with Sunghoon would be fun, a game—a way to blow off steam. But now it’s getting messy, and you’re starting to feel the consequences.

When the bell finally rings, you bolt out of the classroom, desperate for fresh air. But as soon as you turn the corner, you’re yanked into an empty hallway.

Sunghoon.

His grip on your arm is firm, and his eyes are intense, searching yours. “We need to talk,” he says, his voice low.

You pull your arm free, glaring at him. “What’s there to talk about, Sunghoon? We agreed this was supposed to be casual. No strings, remember?”

He frowns, clearly irritated by your tone. “Yeah, but it doesn’t feel like that anymore, does it?”

You cross your arms over your chest, trying to steady your breathing. “That’s because you’re making it weird. Just… back off a little, okay?”

Sunghoon’s jaw clenches, and he takes a step closer. “Back off? You’re the one acting all paranoid, Y/N.”

“Maybe because you won’t stop staring at me like everyone else can’t see it!” you snap back, your voice rising. “This was supposed to be simple. But you’re turning it into something… complicated.”

He scoffs, a humorless smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe because it is complicated. Or have you not noticed?”

You hate the way your chest tightens at his words, the way his closeness makes your heart race. “Don’t do this, Sunghoon,” you warn, your voice quieter, more vulnerable than you’d like.

He pauses, his gaze softening just for a second. “Do what?”

“Make this more than it is,” you whisper, feeling a knot form in your throat. “Because I can’t… I won’t.”

Sunghoon’s expression hardens again, and he leans back, crossing his arms defensively. “Fine,” he mutters. “If that’s how you want it.”

You swallow, forcing yourself to stay composed. “Yeah. It is.”

He nods curtly, stepping away, his face unreadable. “Good. See you around, then,” he says before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving you standing in the empty hallway with your heart in your throat.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The next few days are torture. Sunghoon keeps his distance, and you tell yourself it’s for the best. But every time you see him, every time you catch his eyes across the cafeteria or in class, there’s a hollow ache in your chest that you can’t ignore.

Your friends notice the tension. They ask questions, but you shrug it off, pretending everything’s fine. But you can’t stop replaying your last conversation with Sunghoon, the way his face looked when you told him to back off. You hate how much you miss him, even if you’d never admit it to anyone, especially not to him.

One afternoon, as you’re walking to your car after school, you spot him leaning against a tree nearby, talking to some girl you don’t recognize. He’s smiling, that same smile that used to be reserved for your private moments. Something sharp twists in your chest, and you quickly look away, anger flaring up.

He catches your glance and, for a moment, his smile falters. But then he leans in closer to the girl, laughing at something she says, and your stomach churns with a mix of jealousy and frustration.

You grip your bag tighter, feeling a sting behind your eyes. This is exactly why you didn’t want things to get complicated. You turn away, refusing to look back.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Sunghoon avoids you. He’s usually the first one to shoot a teasing remark your way, but he’s silent. The hallways feel strangely empty without his usual jabs, and your friends are starting to notice the shift between you two.

“Are you guys fighting again?” Karina asks, as the two of you walk to lunch. Her tone is half-exasperated, half-amused, but you know she’s genuinely curious. “You and Sunghoon, I mean. There’s definitely more tension than usual.”

You shrug, trying to seem indifferent, but your stomach twists with anxiety. “When aren’t we fighting?” you mutter.

She gives you a knowing look, but thankfully doesn’t push it further. You’re not sure how much more of this you can take without your feelings bubbling over. You’re determined to get through lunch without letting Sunghoon get under your skin, but when you enter the cafeteria, you spot him immediately.

He’s at your usual table, talking to Heeseung, but his gaze is elsewhere. The second you walk in, his eyes find yours, and there’s a fleeting moment of something unreadable in his expression. A flash of frustration? Longing? You can’t be sure.

You take a deep breath and head over, sliding into your usual seat. Karina sits next to you, and for a moment, everything feels normal. But then Sunghoon starts talking.

“So,” he says, his tone casual but his eyes locked on you, “Heeseung, heard you and Karina had another spat. What was it this time? You didn’t say ‘I love you’ enough?”

Heeseung rolls his eyes, but Karina just laughs, lightly smacking Heeseung’s arm. “Don’t listen to him, babe. He’s just deflecting from his own issues,” she teases.

Sunghoon smirks, but there’s no real humor in it. “I don’t have issues, Karina. Just people who like to make things complicated,” he says, glancing at you.

You feel your face heat up, irritation boiling over. “Oh, please,” you snap back. “Like you’re the picture of simplicity.”

He leans back in his chair, his eyes glinting with challenge. “Never said I was. But at least I’m honest about it.”

Your chest tightens. “Honest?” you scoff. “You’ve been playing games from the start, Sunghoon.”

He shrugs, feigning indifference. “Maybe I have. But at least I know what I want.”

His words send a jolt of electricity through you, and you clench your jaw, trying to keep your composure. “And what’s that, exactly?”

He leans forward, his voice dropping low so only you can hear. “You. But you already knew that.”

Your heart skips a beat. For a second, you’re frozen, caught between wanting to slap him and… something else. Something you’re not ready to face.

“You’re such a—” you start, but before you can finish, Sunghoon’s foot nudges yours under the table, and your breath hitches.

You’re hyper-aware of the table between you, the curious glances from your friends, and the heat creeping up your neck. Sunghoon’s gaze is still on you, challenging, waiting for your response.

You can’t help the retort that slips out. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

He shrugs with a small grin. “More than you know.”

Before you can shoot back another insult, heeseung cuts in, oblivious to the tension. “Okay, what is happening between you two? I feel like I missed an entire chapter here.”

Sunghoon doesn’t even glance at Heeseung. “Nothing’s happening. Right, Y/N?”

“Right,” you reply, forcing a smile, but your voice sounds strained, even to your own ears.

Heeseung and Karina exchange a look, clearly unconvinced. “Sure, whatever you say,” Karina murmurs with a smirk. “Just remember, denial isn’t just a river in Egypt.”

Sunghoon’s lips twitch in amusement, and he finally looks away, leaning back in his chair as if nothing happened. But under the table, his foot is still lightly brushing against yours, sending sparks up your leg.

You bite the inside of your cheek, determined not to let him see how much he’s getting to you.

But you can’t help it—the sensation, the frustration, and the undeniable attraction between you are all mixing into one chaotic storm.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and everyone begins to gather their things. You stand, trying to shake off the tension still lingering between you and Sunghoon, but Karina has other ideas.

“Hey, Y/N,” she calls, grabbing your arm just as you’re about to head out. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

You nod, feeling a knot form in your stomach. She leads you to a quieter corner of the hallway, away from the crowd. You can tell by the look on her face that she’s not letting this go.

Karina crosses her arms, tilting her head slightly. “Okay, seriously,” she starts, her voice low but pointed. “What the fuck was that back there?”

You blink, trying to feign ignorance. “What was what?”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t play dumb with me. You and Sunghoon… there was some serious tension at lunch. It was like watching a live soap opera, and I feel like I’ve missed a few episodes.”

You sigh, glancing around to make sure no one is listening in. “It’s nothing, Karina,” you insist, but even to your own ears, it sounds unconvincing.

Karina raises an eyebrow. “Nothing? Really? Because from where I was sitting, it looked like something. A big something.”

You bite your lip, unsure of how much to tell her. “Look, we… we just don’t get along. You know that.”

“Yeah, but this felt different,” she replies, not letting up. “Like, I don’t know, it almost seemed like… there was something more there.”

Her words hit a little too close to home, and you feel your cheeks heat up. “You’re imagining things,” you say quickly, but Karina’s not buying it.

She leans in closer, her expression turning more serious. “Y/N, I’m your best friend. I know when something’s up. And that? That was definitely something.”

You hesitate, torn between the urge to confide in her and the fear of admitting the truth. “It’s complicated,” you finally admit, your voice barely a whisper.

Karina’s eyes widen with intrigue. “Complicated how?”

You swallow hard, looking away. “I don’t even know how to explain it. We’ve just… been hanging out a little more lately. And things got… weird.”

“Weird how?” she presses, clearly not letting this go.

You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “We’ve been… hooking up,” you confess, your voice almost inaudible.

Karina’s mouth falls open in shock. “Wait, what? You and Sunghoon?” She looks like she doesn’t know whether to laugh or gasp. “Since when?”

“A few weeks,” you admit, feeling a strange mix of relief and anxiety now that the secret is out.

Karina blinks, taking a moment to process. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I didn’t think it would last this long,” you say defensively. “I thought it was just going to be a one-time thing, but then… it wasn’t.”

Karina’s expression softens slightly. “And how do you feel about it? About him?”

You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant. “I don’t know. It’s confusing. Half the time, I can’t stand him. The other half… well, you saw how lunch went.”

Karina lets out a small laugh. “Yeah, I did. It’s like you two can’t decide whether you want to kill each other or… not.”

You groan, leaning back against the wall. “That’s exactly how it feels.”

Karina nudges you with her elbow. “Just be careful, okay? Sunghoon’s not exactly known for being straightforward with his feelings.”

You nod, appreciating her concern. “I know. Trust me, I’m not expecting anything… much. It’s just… whatever it is.”

Karina gives you a knowing smile. “Alright, but just remember, I’m here if you need to talk. Or, you know, if you need me to kick his ass.”

You laugh, feeling some of the tension ease. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

As you walk back to class, you feel a little lighter, but also more uncertain than ever. Because now that Karina knows, it feels more real. And that scares you more than you’d like to admit.

You pause for a moment, letting your thoughts catch up to your racing heart. Sunghoon had admitted it first, hadn't he? In his own cryptic way, he’d confessed he wanted more than just the back-and-forth, more than just the thrill of the chase. You remember the way he looked at you that day, his eyes full of frustration and something else — something softer, something you weren’t ready to face.

He’d said he wanted you. He’d practically dared you to deny that you wanted him, too. And ever since, you’ve been trying to convince yourself that it didn't matter — that it was just some passing thing, some fling to fill the boredom. But it wasn't. It never was.

You sigh deeply, leaning back against the wall of the building. The memory of his words still lingers like a brand on your skin: "I want you." It had sounded so simple when he said it, so sure. Like he wasn’t afraid of the mess that came with it.

You’ve been too afraid to admit it to yourself, but now… now it feels like you’ve been fighting a battle that’s already lost.

He confessed his feelings first, but you’ve been holding back, afraid to let yourself feel the same. Afraid of what it might mean, of how it could change things between you. You thought you could control it, could manage the situation and keep your distance, but all you’ve managed to do is dig yourself deeper into this mess.

You’re tired. Tired of fighting your own heart, tired of pretending you’re unaffected. Tired of feeling like you're caught in this tug-of-war between desire and denial.

*He’s already put himself out there,* you remind yourself. *He made the first move.* And that thought alone is enough to push you forward, to make you realize that maybe it’s your turn now. Your turn to decide if you want to keep running or if you’re brave enough to let yourself fall.

Pushing off the wall, you feel a wave of determination settle over you. If you’re going to do this, you need to find him and be honest. Not just with him, but with yourself.

Because you don’t want to keep this back-and-forth going, this constant dance of pushing and pulling. You want to know where you stand — with him, and with whatever this thing between you is becoming.

You take a deep breath and start walking, knowing exactly where to find him. And this time, you’re not going to let him get away without an answer.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

You find Sunghoon by the lockers, leaning against the metal with that typical nonchalant pose he seems to have perfected. His head is tilted down, focused on his phone, but he looks up as you approach, sensing your presence. His eyes flicker with surprise for just a moment before his usual guarded expression returns.

“What do you want?” he asks, his voice laced with that familiar arrogance, but there’s something else there, too—an undercurrent of curiosity, maybe even hope.

You don’t bother with pleasantries. “We need to talk,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. You try to sound firm, but even you can hear the slight waver in your voice. Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

“Oh, so now you want to talk?” he retorts, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “After avoiding me all day?”

You roll your eyes, feeling the tension bubble up again. “I wasn’t avoiding you,” you snap, even though you both know it’s a lie. “I just needed… time to think.”

He straightens up, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Think about what?” he asks, and his tone is a little softer now, less mocking.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of your next words pressing down on you. “About this. About us,” you say, your voice steadier now. “I’m tired of all this back and forth, Sunghoon. I’m tired of pretending like there’s nothing between us when we both know there is.”

His eyes search yours, and for a moment, his guard slips. “I told you how I felt,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re the one who kept pretending it was just… nothing.”

You feel a pang of guilt twist in your stomach. “I know,” you admit, meeting his gaze head-on. “And I was wrong. I thought I could just… push it away, ignore it. But I can’t. Not anymore.”

Sunghoon’s expression softens, just a little. “So what are you saying?” he asks, his voice careful, as if he’s trying not to hope too much.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to stay honest. “I’m saying… I want to figure this out. I want to try… whatever this is between us. But I need you to be real with me, Sunghoon. No more games.”

He takes a step closer, closing the distance between you, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. “I’ve been real,” he says, his voice low and intense. “I’ve been real since that night at Karina’s party, and I’ve been waiting for you to catch up.”

You’re taken aback by the sincerity in his words, by the way his eyes seem to bore into yours like he’s trying to see into your very soul. “I’m here now,” you reply, your voice barely a whisper.

Sunghoon takes another step closer, and now he’s right in front of you, his breath warm on your skin. “So what do you want?” he murmurs, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. “Do you want me, or are you still trying to convince yourself you don’t?”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you’re not sure what to say. But then you realize you’ve known the answer all along. “I want you,” you admit, your voice steady, finally letting the truth slip past your lips. “But I don’t want to keep pretending like it’s nothing. I want to try… something real. But I don’t want it to be this constant push and pull, Sunghoon. I can’t keep doing that.”

Sunghoon’s lips curl into a small, almost relieved smile. “Then let’s stop playing games,” he says softly, leaning in closer. “Let’s see where this goes, no more pretending. Just you and me.”

You feel a strange sense of relief wash over you at his words, a weight lifting from your chest. “Okay,” you whisper, and it feels like the most honest thing you’ve said in a long time.

His smile widens just a fraction, and he closes the final distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a way that feels both familiar and new. It’s not the frantic, heated kisses you’ve shared before—it’s slower, deeper, filled with a promise of something more.

And for the first time, you feel like you’re finally on the same page. Finally moving in the same direction.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Over the next few weeks, things between you and Sunghoon change in ways you never could have anticipated. At first, it’s subtle — small shifts that only the two of you notice. You spend more time together between classes, sitting closer at lunch, and texting late into the night. The playful bickering is still there, but it’s softened somehow, more like an inside joke than a battle.

Your friends don’t notice at first. They’re used to seeing you and Sunghoon together, arguing about this or that, so the extra time you spend with him doesn't raise any immediate red flags. But eventually, the signs become too obvious to ignore.

One day at lunch, you’re sitting next to Sunghoon, your legs brushing under the table. His hand casually rests on the back of your chair, his thumb occasionally grazing your shoulder. Jay, seated across from you, narrows his eyes, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Okay, what’s going on?” he asks, his tone teasing but his eyes curious.

You glance over at Sunghoon, who just smirks. “What do you mean?” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant, but you can feel the flush creeping up your neck.

Jay gestures between the two of you. “This,” he says, waving his hand. “You two. You’re being weird. Weird even for you two.”

Karina, who’s been listening in, gasps. “Oh my god,” she says, her eyes widening with realization. “Are you guys… together?”

The table goes silent for a second, everyone turning to look at you. Sunoo’s eyebrows shoot up, and Jake leans forward, looking like he’s trying to solve a particularly complicated math problem.

Sunghoon leans back, crossing his arms over his chest with a grin. “Depends,” he says casually. “What do you think?”

You elbow him in the side, rolling your eyes at his vague answer. “Yes,” you say, looking at your friends. “We’re… together. Kind of.”

“Kind of?” Sunghoon echoes, feigning offense, and you shoot him a playful glare.

“Yes, kind of!” you insist, turning back to your friends, who are now staring at you like you’ve just revealed you’re secretly an alien. “It’s… new.”

Heeseung chuckles. “I mean, I’m not totally surprised,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “You two have been like a powder keg waiting to explode for years.”

Yuna nods eagerly. “Honestly, it was about time,” she adds, and you can’t help but laugh at her bluntness.

Jungwon, however, looks mildly concerned. “So, you’re serious?” he asks, glancing between you and Sunghoon. “Like, actually serious?”

Sunghoon looks at you, his smile softening just a bit, and he nods. “Yeah,” he says, and there’s a sincerity in his voice that makes your heart skip a beat. “We’re serious.”

Your friends take a moment to process this. Then Jake grins. “Alright,” he says, raising his glass of soda. “To Y/N and Sunghoon. The enemies-to-lovers arc we didn’t know we needed.”

You laugh, and everyone joins in, raising their glasses. It’s strange, in a way, seeing everyone so quickly accept what feels like a massive shift in your life. But it also feels… right.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Over the next few days, things become more obvious. You and Sunghoon are no longer trying to hide. He reaches for your hand in the hallways, and you let him. He kisses you on the cheek in front of the others, and they pretend to gag but smile knowingly when they think you’re not looking.

You catch Karina’s eye one afternoon, and she gives you a grin that’s part smug, part excited. She leans over, whispering, “So… you finally admitted you like him, huh?”

You smile, shrugging a bit. “Guess so,” you say, and she laughs, nudging you with her elbow.

The hardest part, strangely enough, is getting used to the change yourself. It’s still weird to not have to hide how you feel, to be able to smile at Sunghoon without wondering if anyone is watching. But with each passing day, it gets a little easier.

And it’s not like everything is perfect. You and Sunghoon still argue — of course, you do. That’s just how you are. But there’s something different now, something that feels less like anger and more like… passion. Like you’re both on the same side, even when you’re bickering.

There are moments when you catch him looking at you from across the room, a small smile on his lips, and you feel a warmth spread through your chest. And in those moments, you know — this is real. This is right.

Your friends have stopped asking questions. They’ve accepted that this is your new normal, and honestly, so have you. The only thing left to do is see where it takes you.

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[ericshoney]

Protective ~ Sturniolo triplets

You had thought that your Saturday was going to be a dull one. Not having any plans, you thought to just chill, game and probably watch movies all day. That was until Matt had messaged you asking if you wanted to spend the day with him, Chris and Nick. You agreed and said you'd head to their place soon.

As it was quite hot out, you slipped on a pair of light blue denim shorts, along with a white crop top and your trainers. You were happy with your outfit as you knew it wasn't only just simple and stylish, but would keep you cool too.

You then walked to the triplets place, which was luckily around the corner from your apartment. When you arrived, you walked in as the door was already unlocked waiting your arrival.

"Hey guys!" You greeted as you saw the trio sat on the sofa waiting for you, their heads buried in their phones.

"Hey, looking good!" Chris responded first.

"Thank you." You replied with a smile.

"Where are we going?" You then asked, as the brothers pulled away from their phones.

"We thought about the mall." Matt said, making you nod.

"Alright let's go!" Nick exclaimed.

You laughed at his sudden excitement as you headed to the car. You got in the back with Nick, as he started showing you some random TikToks as Matt drove and Chris played some music.

When you all arrived, you walked in seeing it wasn't too busy. You walked in the middle of Matt and Nick, Chris on Matt's left.

"Where to first?" Nick questioned.

"There!" You exclaimed, pointing to a store that had a sale on.

You headed off a bit before the guys, starting to look around at everything. Your eyes landed on some cool shirts that were half price.

"Hey beautiful~"

You looked over and saw a random guy standing next to you. You looked around and saw it was only you and him.

"Uh hey." You mumbled.

"That's a cool shirt, would look good on you." He said.

You remained silent, hoping if you ignored him, he'd leave, but he wasn't having it.

"How about I get your number, I'll buy you that shirt and take you on a date." He carried on.

"Who?" Nick called, suddenly appearing, along with Chris and Matt.

"Who...what?" The stranger questioned.

"Who the fuck are you." Nick replied.

"Just asking a pretty girl out, none of your business." He responded.

"She's not interested." Matt said, as Chris wrapped his arm around your shoulder, knowing you were uncomfortable.

"So fuck off." Nick said, waving his hands to send the stranger away.

The guy scoffed and walked off, as you sighed in relief.

"What a weirdo." Matt mumbled.

"You okay?" Chris asked softly.

"Yeah, thanks for showing up suddenly." You answered, giving the three a smile.

"Of course." Nick said, as Matt and Chris nodded.

You four then looked around all getting some stuff you liked, before heading to grab some food. As you headed to the food court, you noticed it was really busy. The guys noticed how uncomfortable you suddenly felt with so many people around, as they shared a look, all suddenly thinking the same thing.

"Drive thru." They said at the same time.

You all then headed back to the car, Chris' arm still wrapped around your shoulder in comfort as Nick and Matt walked in front of you.

After arriving back at the car, the four of you settled on McDonalds, Matt driving there and going through the drive thru as Nick ordered for all of you.

"You wanna head back to our place?" Matt suggested, looking back at you.

"Yeah, I don't want to deal with anymore strangers." You said with a small giggle.

"That I can agree on." Matt replied.

"That guy was a total creep though." Chris said.

"Totally. His approach was all wrong." Nick agreed.

"Maybe next time, wear jeans." Matt said jokingly.

"Whatever." You grumbled, making the boys laugh.

"But in all seriousness, we're here to save you from the creeps, the heartbreaks and the fashion disasters." Nick said.

"Your all just protective, but I love you all for it." You responded.

The three smiled as you headed on home, happy you had them by your side.

[morganbritton132]

was thinking about that wayne buying little steve cereal text post and was wondering if you still plan to write the fic its inspired? if so i am definitely looking forward to it and am cheering you on. if not that's cool too, i was just curious!

Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll ever actually write the fic. But! I will tell you what I had in mind because it wasn’t supposed to be a sad fic!

Wayne starts noticing this kid around town.

He shouldn’t. He doesn’t notice any other kid, and this boy is well-dressed. He seems polite enough and well-behaved. There’s no reason that Wayne should pay him any mind, except… the hair. It’s a mess. It’s brushed up and backwards like the person who fixed it didn’t quite know what they were doing.

He keeps seeing that hair everywhere.

It’s asking questions at the hardware store about lightbulbs. It’s distracting Bob at the Radio Shack. It’s taking up half the aisle at Melvard’s with a cart it can’t see over, and asking Wayne, ‘Mister, can you reach the floss for me, please?’

There’s nothing out of the ordinary, honestly, but Wayne feels a might uncomfortable every time he sees this head of hair (a bit more stylish than the last) doing something that a parent might do. Especially because he never sees a parent.

It comes to head when he’s three people back in line at Melvard’s and people are complaining. He sticks his head out to see what the hold up is and sees that head of hair again, counting out quarters and dimes at the counter for a box of cheerios.

Davey, in front of him, swears under his breath and bounces on his feet like he’s about to say something, but Wayne beats him to it. Wayne takes the few steps up to the counter, looks Donald in the eye and wishes that it had been Joyce Byers instead.

He sits his carton of eggs and gallon of milk down on the counter next to the kid’s cereal and tells Don to ring it all up together. Then he tells the kid, “Put your money away, boy.”

He tries to talk to him outside the store, but the boy squeaks out ‘thanks’ and is running before Wayne can get anything out. He doesn’t see him for a while after that, and he can’t stop thinking about how hungry he looked.

A month and some change later, Wayne finds himself sliding into a booth at the diner across from the kid with the hair. He’s devouring slices of toast, pennies and nickels counted out on the table next to him.

The kid startles, and Wayne cuts to the point, “You hungry?”

The kid nods in that skittish way that reminds him of his nephew and Wayne orders two plates of pancakes. He lets the boy eat before he asks where his parents are. He gets no answer. He asks if he has enough food at home. The kid’s eye flicker to him and then back down, “Usually.”

He clicks his tongue, swears internally, and asks how often he’s left alone and hungry, and the boy says, “Their flight got delayed.”

The boy shrugs his shoulders and explains the money they leave him, and how sometimes he’s runs out but he’s learning better. It crushes Wayne just a little that he seems so proud of himself. Wayne gives the kid his number and tells him that if he’s ever hungry to call him.

For a while, Steve would call sporadically. Sometimes goes weeks, sometimes months. They’d meet at the diner and eat. This eventually lead to Wayne cooking for him in his trailer, then to him teaching Steve the basics, then to them cooking together.

Steve got older. He got a credit card. He got busier with school, and sports, and his friends. He didn’t need Wayne to feed him anymore, but they still tried to have dinner at least once a month.

When Eddie came to live with Wayne, he told him that Stevie came to dinner every third Saturday of the month. Eddie assumed Stevie was Wayne’s girlfriend.

The first Saturday that passed, Steve had to cancel because he had a basketball game. The second Saturday, Steve’s parents were in town so he couldn’t come. The third, Steve no showed, called the next day delirious with flu and apologized to Wayne.

The fourth Saturday rolls around and Eddie is thinking, “Man, this chick does not like Wayne. He needs to break up with his girlfriend before it gets really sad.”

Then there is a knock at the door, and Eddie opens it to the biggest jock asshole in the school.

Eddie stares at Steve in horror, and Steve stares back in total confusion, and then they both get annoyed like, “What are you doing here?”

Then cut to Eddie calling Steve out on bullying and Steve tattling about Eddie walking on the lunch tables. They bicker and argue, and Wayne secretly loves it.

[sunshinelollipopsicle]

Spoil Spree

♡ masterlist - request!

♡ pairing - rafe cameron x fem!reader

♡ summary - rafe brings you to the mall so he can spoil you, despite your hesitance to accept spending his money

♡ warnings - fluff, rafe's a sugar daddy

♡ w/c - 0.7k

♡ a/n - manifesting a millionaire husband rn

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, and Rafe Cameron had decided to take you on a shopping trip to the local mall. You walked hand-in-hand, and you were a bit nervous. Rafe loved to spoil you, but you were always hesitant to accept his generosity, especially when it came to expensive gifts.

As you strolled through the mall, Rafe pointed out different stores, asking if there was anything you liked. You admired the beautiful displays, but each time, you shook your head, insisting you didn’t need anything.

“Come on,” Rafe said with a playful pout. “There has to be something you want.”

You smiled shyly, squeezing his hand. “I’m fine, really. I don’t need anything expensive.”

Rafe stopped walking and turned to face you, his expression serious yet tender. “You deserve to have nice things. Let me get them for you.”

You bit your lip, feeling a little overwhelmed by his insistence. “But Rafe, I don’t want to take advantage of you. It’s your money.”

He cupped your face gently, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks. “It’s our money. And seeing you happy makes me happy.”

You looked into his earnest eyes and reluctantly, you nodded. “Okay, but just a little.”

Rafe’s face lit up with a triumphant smile. “Deal. Now, let’s go find something you’ll love.”

He led you into a chic boutique, filled with elegant dresses, stylish accessories, and everything in between. You wandered through the racks, still feeling a bit hesitant. Rafe, however, was determined.

He picked out a beautiful dress in a shade he knew would look perfect on you and held it up. “How about this one?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

You took the dress, admiring the soft fabric and intricate design. “It’s beautiful, Rafe, but it’s too much.”

He shook his head, placing a gentle hand on your back. “Nothing’s too much for you. Try it on, please?”

With a sigh and a small smile, you headed to the dressing room. Slipping into the dress, you examined it in the mirror. It fit perfectly, and when you stepped out to show Rafe, you saw his face brighten. “You look stunning,” he said, his voice filled with adoration.

Blushing, you looked down, smoothing the dress with your hands. “Thank you, Rafe. It really is lovely.”

Rafe walked over, taking your hands in his. “Let’s get this and look around for other stuff.”

Soon enough, Rafe guided you to another store, this time one specializing in shoes. You felt a little more at ease now, thanks to his persistent encouragement. As you looked around, your eyes fell on a pair of elegant heels that immediately caught your eye.

Rafe noticed your gaze and grinned. “Try them on,” he urged.

You hesitated, but he gave you a reassuring nod. “Go on. They look perfect for you.”

You picked up the shoes and slipped them on, feeling the soft leather mold to your feet. You walked a few steps, and Rafe’s approving smile made you blush.

“Those are a must,” he declared.

“Okay, we’ll get these.”

Rafe took your hand and led you to the register. After paying for the shoes, he took you to a quaint little shop filled with jewelry. The sparkling pieces caught your eye, and you found yourself drawn to a delicate necklace with a small, shimmering pendant.

“That one’s beautiful,” Rafe said, noticing your interest. “Try it on.”

You picked up the necklace, your fingers trembling slightly as you fastened it around your neck. The pendant rested perfectly against your collarbone, catching the light in a way that made it seem to glow.

Rafe stepped closer, his eyes fixed on the necklace. “Absolutely gorgeous,” he murmured, reaching out to gently touch the pendant. “I'd say it was made for you.”

“Rafe, it's-”

“Don’t even think about saying it's too expensive,” he interrupted. “It's coming home.”

You laughed lightly, nodding. “Alright, alright. You win.”

With the necklace safely purchased, Rafe suggested one last stop: a luxury handbag boutique. You browsed the selection, and a stylish, leather bag stuck out to you, and you couldn’t resist picking it up to examine it more closely.

“What do you think?” you asked, turning to Rafe.

He gave you a once-over, nodding happily. “I think it suits you. Do you like it?”

“I do. It’s beautiful.”

“Then we’re buying it,” he said.

By the time you left the boutique, Rafe was carrying four different bags with all your new items.

As you walked to the car, you glanced over at him, “Thank you, Rafe. For everything.”

He placed him arm over your shoulders, turning his head to press a kiss to your forehead. “Anything for you, I'm glad you enjoyed it.”

[elioslover]

Friday Nights - Harry Styles x reader. (Dadrry Oneshot).

[The polls revealed that you sweetpeas wanted more dadrry and my ovaries agreed. Hope you guys find it as cute as I do! 💞]

Premise: Harry can't wait to get home to see his favourite girls.

More dadrry / Other writing

Word count: 1.9k / Warnings

🧸

Harry has the entire weekend off- not just a lucky Saturday afternoon- the entire weekend. And he has spent the first 18 hours without empty hands, but the fullest of hearts.

His baby girl- who has long surpassed gaining the skill of walking- has been carried and coddled from the second Harry’s boots hit the hardwood of the entrance hall early Friday evening. The sun has yet to fully set and his whole body is whisked away with excitement at what awaits on the other side of the front door.

At the familiar sound of keys dangling from their slotting in the keyhole, his little petal has dismissed her activity of creating a colourful artwork, crayon still squished between her chubby fingers as her wobbly feet bound over to the front door in pursuit of the mysterious person attempting access.

With the patience she has surely learned from yourself- not Harry- his little 3-year-old is standing in wait, eyes wide with curiosity, her posture still shy and weary of who might enter in a moment.

And when the door becomes ajar, a familiar worn-down leather Gucci boot comes into vision, and then she can see the other boot too- her features prettily framing a painting of the unconditional love she has for her daddy. Those silly boots older than herself are the surest sign of one of her favourite humans stepping into the house.

Giddily, she beams up at him, her chubby ankles balancing her soft feet as she bounces up and down, her body swaying with enthusiasm, her eyes shining with pure excitement.

Harry isn't even halfway through the door when he is confronted by his cute, cheery, tiny toddler, and he feels his shoulders soothingly shrug at the mere sight- unaware of just how happy he is at the blessing of ending his stressful days in the comfort of a home life he never considered a possibility.

Taking a full step into the hallway, Harry is reminded of your existence whenever his babygirl wistfully looks at him. She is the combination of he and your love, and so much more.

Her hair is a little damp, presumably from just having had a bath and some supper. Harry thinks he must have caught her amid playtime, and he hopes tomorrow might offer the opportunity for him to partake in these activities.

And he will, sternly telling you that he hopes you'll take the opportunity to make the weekend your own; tending to tasks, catching up with both friends and binging series, even just using the time to extend your naps, meals, and self-care.

But right now, the bag slung across his shoulder is dropped to the floor, he brushes the edge of the door in an attempt to shut it but cares not if it shuts completely, because a three-year-old- dressed in a pale blue set of jammies decorated in her favourite dinosaurs- is exclaiming, "Daddy" through a burst of enthusiastic giggles.

He takes a step forward, but she is more than willing to meet him in the middle, her tiny toes coming into contact with his boots before he can blink and she tightly wraps her arms around his leg- she only measures up to below his knee- adorably squeezing as tight as she can.

Harry's heart swells so big, he fears he is a balloon filled with so much helium it's begging to burst- but if it bursts, he knows his entire body will become a firework exhibition centred around the theme of how much he unconditionally loves his baby girl.

He does his best to bow closer, wrapping his arms around her, and in true tradition, Harry then lifts her little-ness, helping her balance her feet on the tops of his boots- Harry would have thrown these scuffed, barely stylish boots away if it weren't for the undeniably heart-warming reaction he receives when arriving home.

She now stands atop his shoes, her arms extending up so her hands can be clasped by his, and they are swallowed like a small petal in his palm- so small, he has never seen something-someone- so dainty. Harry slowly takes dance-like steps around the hallway, enthused and cheered on by the cheeky giggles of his daughter enjoying their little 'dance' along the hardwood.

Still humouring and guiding her around, Harry calls out, "'M home, Lovie," seeking out the location of his gift-giver, yourself.

"Hi, Bubs!" You call, and by the distance in your voice, Harry knows you're probably in the kitchen- which is confirmed mere seconds later, "'m in the kitchen", you coo, "felt like making spring rolls…", you pause, "It's still undecided if I'm succeeding or not."

Harry chuckles softly, eager to enter the kitchen and see exactly what you're on about, and by now, the easily distracted toddler has released him, bumbling on about wanting to show her daddy the latest masterpiece she will soon add to her collection.

He certainly will, "How 'bout you show me, and then we can draw another one together?"

She sillily but seriously considers it, her hand stroking her chin as if the fate of the world is balancing atop her ten fingers. Harry thinks he sees himself in her, he thinks he sees himself in you, and loving you has surely rubbed off on him.

Eventually, his sassy three-year-old tells him- with humorously, adorable certainty- "Yes."

Harry's chest lulls with love as he tells her, "Need to say hi to mummy first, okay?"

She nods avidly, "I'll start without you." To which Harry laughs aloud and begins the task of removing his boots.

Harry trails down the hallway, his sock sliding along the hardwood, his eyes glancing over the array of framed photographs- ones of himself and you, of the baby, pets, family and friends.

As he rounds the corner, the aroma of freshly chopped cabbage and carrots invades his senses, and said senses go into overdrive as his eyes land on the loveliest of things; his partner, partially hidden as you stand behind the kitchen island, slicing an avocado, humming along to soft sound of 'Hand Me Downs'.

He finds himself behind you so fast, like a fugue of neediness had taken over and he had to tend to it. You hum in contentment, body sinking back into his chest, still chopping with nonchalance as his arms carefully, but desperately, wrap around your waist, his hands mindlessly shifting the material of your clothes to ensure skin-on-skin contact.

He wants to be near- just for a moment- softly peppering kisses along the nape of your neck, and when you shudder, he huffs out with an overload of admiration. His little pecks seem successful as you finally discard your dinner prep, placing the knife on the counter before twirling your body around to face Harry.

His smile is bright and matches his eyes, unintentionally encouraging your features to mirror his as you tilt up onto your toes in favour of giving him a good smooch,

"Hello, my Darling." You address, pressing your lips to the corner of his own.

"Missed you, Lovie." He says before going in for a proper kiss; pecking you one, two, three times before he is smiling so much that it becomes hard to call this kissing.

You giggle against his lips, giving him one last kiss before tilting back less than an inch to let him know, "Missed you more."

"Liar." He chuckles, tilting his neck to the ceiling, giving you the opportunity for a cheeky nip of his chin. Harry's body jolts with pleasant surprise, hand sliding down your lower back to give your denim-clad bum a good squeeze.

And then perhaps the sassiest and cutest demand comes echoing down from the room over, "Excuse me!" which only has the pair of you a soft chuckling mess.

You gently stroke the nape of Harry's neck, nails scraping the nearest tufts of his hair, "Y' better get going." a final kiss to both cheeks and his lips before you remind him, "Your Highness awaits."

Harry nods along with a swift tap to your bum cheek and a kiss to your forehead as he leaves the kitchen in pursuit of the art gallery that is guaranteed to be covering the walls of the games room.

She is already seated at her little yellow table, her collection of colourful markers, pencils, and glitter pens are all neatly lined up on the right, and she has a pile of complete artworks stacked on the left. In the centre is an A4 pink piece of cardboard already covered in streaks of black marker.

Continuing to scribble, she makes a small gesture for Harry to pull up a seat next to her. He does so, untucking the chair he knows will do a useless job at holding his height, nevertheless, he settles in easily- a product of this being a recurring event- turning his body to signal his attention is entirely hers.

For the next twenty minutes or so, Harry enthusiastically reacts and admires his little one's creations, and then he follows her to the puppy's bed, letting her show off the new toy she chose for their golden retriever to sleep with this evening, then Harry helps her up the stairs, gently hoisting her up, her legs wrapping around his hips, her head curling into his chest.

She instructs him to go to her bedroom, only loosening her grip as he slowly dips to place both her and himself upon her bed. Out of his hold, her little legs crossed, feet wiggling with excitement, patting the spot next to her for her daddy to occupy.

Harry could never say no to that- for starters, it was challenging enough saying it to you- his body shuffling closer, shifting to suit her wishes until she is happily cradled across his chest, his hip awkwardly pressed into the mattress, shoulder twisted unpleasantly, but he has no cares to give.

She wants him to tell her a story. Sometimes she wants to hear about him having fun with his friends, or how he and mommy met and fell in love, other days she wants him to make one up tonight, she wants to hear about his singing.

She asks simple, scattered questions, mostly unrelated to the one before and after. Slowly they delay and his answers add an extra drone, she is getting rather comfy, cuddling up into the crook of Harry, sharing this contentedness with such sleepiness that he knows he is sure to follow.

Downstairs, admiring your dinner, you are quite proud of the final results of your spring rolls. Patience and persistence certainly has its perks. If your phone were nearby, you would be tempted to take a picture, but you have something better; a handsome husband who will soon praise you in wonderment as he scarfs down your proud work.

After a brief stroll through the living room and the games room, you patter your way up the staircase and make a beeline for her bedroom. As expected, you find your favourite duo, but what wasn't expected was the sigh of Harry cradling a sleeping toddler.

She is sleeping soundly, her little wrists and ankles scrunched, her face with a naturally concentrated brow furrow- just like her father. Harry has one arm wrapped around her, his head tucked behind her own, laying obscurely but looking cosier than ever.

[kiwi-but-the-bird-not-the-fruit]

This one request is for Nefero/ femReader.

For the past week, Nefero has been seeing his girlfriend less and less. His girlfriend has been having out with genderbent!Manny (I'll call her Manuella) a lot lately. At first, he doesn't mind that his darling has new friend. He likes that she's happy. However, He gets jealous. Between class the girls quickly go to the restroom and come out all smiles and giggling. When lunch rolls around, femReader is sitting with Manuella when she and Nefero usually sit together. And when Nefero goes to see Reader, Manuella is by her side talking up a storm. Thinking they're going through to a rough patch Nefero invites femReader on a date on Saturday to smooth things over. But surprisingly Reader rejects his offer and tells him she's busy. Nefero has a lot of pride, he can't bring himself to tell Reader that he's worried about their relationship. On the Saturday, Nefero goes to the mall for some retail therapy. While shopping, he sees Reader and Manuella hand in hand going into a shop. Hurt and crushed, Nefero goes home in tears. Later on, he gets a message from Reader saying she's coming over and she wants to tell him something. Because Nefero ain't no punk, dries his tears, fixes his makeup and meets Reader outside to confront her. But instead of a new girlfriend with her, Reader has a new septum piercing in his favorite color. Wha??? Turns out Reader had wanted the new piercing for some time now so she's been asking Manuella about hers (Side note: Manny from Monster High OG has a ring through his nose or a septum piercing). Manuella been giving her tips on how to care for it and showing cool ring designs. Despite being excited, Reader was a bit nervous so Manuella went with her with for support her to get the piercing on Saturday. She was shaking a bit. so Manuella held her hand to keep her still and steady. The reason why Reader didn't tell Nefero about it was because she wanted it to be a surprise to show off her cool and new accessory. Happy that is was all an misunderstanding. Nefero embraces his girlfriend.

My apologies for this being so long. Thank you for your time.

This is just amazing love this prompt and don't worry I enjoyed reading it your really creative and makes my writing go so much smoothly, so I really appreciate it!

I definitely like the idea of a more vulnerable side of Nefero so I'll make it cannon for their relationship and honestly I was gonna add some vulnerability when it's just the two of them alone

(Also I do remember Many having the septum piercing he rocked it.)

Alright here we go!

__________________________________________

Prompt-The reader hasn't been as active in the relationship for about a week she's hanging out more with Manuella (genderbent! Many) and Nefero is very desperate for readers attention /jealous and oh so secretly vulnerable.

Established relationship

Will be suing [Name] as substitute for (y/n)

Readers Nickname, my jewel/my queen

h/c)= hair color

(h/s) =hair style

(h/t)= hair type

(N/n)= Nickname

(E/c)=eye color

Angts with happy ending

________________________________________

Monster high is seen in plain view, the sky is a fangtastic shade of gray with the big stormy clouds covering for miles

Mansters and ghouls are seen entering the school with chitter chatter all around

In comes a limousine, the door swings open to reveal the De Nile Brothers fighting with each other

"You knew I was gonna use those earnings and you took them!" Cleon yells at his older brother who seemed unbothered by his younger brothers tantrum, he ignores him and walks up the stairs as Cleon keeps on yelling his undead heart about the stylish earing he took from grandmother's tomb.

Nefero walks in and searches around with an almost hopeful stare, yet to the untrained eye that wasn't his girlfriend he looked forever resting bitch face.

He glances side to side but doesn't see a sliver of (h/c) hair around the crowd of onlookers but he doesn't find her, there was pit forming deep in him but he simply moved on with long strides, making every Monster and ghoul to make way his majesty Nefero De Nile

Nefero walks to his locker and finds his girlfriend, he becomes ready excited he walks a little more faster and as he approaches he sees her new friend, her name was Manuella

Normally he wouldn't mind her friends but recently it made him mad how much time the two were having, like somehow he didn't exist in her ethereal world that sometimes he'd look at himself and think he wasn't the one to be in such a presence.

Now he truly felt it, making his skin crawl with frustration and oh so well known jealousy.

It wasn't a good color of him; he'd prefer his signature dark green with ofcourse the fiery red he saw [Name] as.

She wore a apple red skirt and black crop top with a gold skull design, she had on platform heels with red bottoms and her (h/c) (h/t) hair was in (h/s) that had green clips on the side of her head,her face was done softly but with bold red and black eyeshadow.

As he walked towards the two he adjusted his earring which he thought would get her attention for at least a minute.

"Hello my queen" he grabbed her waist leand down a bit to her neck and kissed it softly. [Name] looked at him and smiled sheepishly "oh! Hey Nefie, whats up" she turns which makes his hand leave her waist as well making his body just be in front of [Name] not letting him be as close as he wanted.

"Oh nothing, just wanted to walk to class with you is all my jewel" he took her hand and gave it a kiss. [Name] nodded her head smiling then took back her hand and grabbed his hand, then continued talking to Manuella as they walked to class.

At the very least she was holding his hand so he was happy for the meantime.

_______________________________________

In class it seemed that the only thing that was important to [Name] was talking to Manuella and sometimes he could have cursed that they were whispering at times but he let it go because it could be a personal ghoul problem and he didn't want to but into something that he wasn't needed for.

As time went by Nefero resorted to at least paying some attention to class he twirls his hair around on his finger but his mind still swirled with thoughts of his dearest, who was just inches away from him.

Oh how he craved for her to hold his bicep or caressing his face as she took notes while he looked at her. He keeps twirling his dark teal and gold hair as the class goes on.

*Ring Ring Ring*

The bell announced the end of the class, Nefero got up and was going to get [Name]'s chair and pull it out for her to then be created by an empty seat, he quickly scans the classroom then sees her and Manuella rushing out of the leaving an empty seat with the confused manster.

He looked very dumbfounded for a few seconds to then change up his attitude and continue like nothing happened at all

Nefero is seen walking the hall looking to each of his side with his eyes,he makes sure no one can tell he's getting desperate or that he's actively looking or someone, normally he would announce proudly that he is looking for his girlfriend but he had been feeling unsure on where he stood at the moment

'Does my jewel not love me anymore?! Did she find someone else! She must be bored of me! Is that why?!' The manster is beginning to hyperventilate, be it camouflage by his smirk but his un-dead heart was filled with pressure deep within his chest.

He looks to the side to finally see his darling [Name],walking out the bathroom laughing along side Manuella, Nefero becomes once again jealous on the inside, he was about to approach them but the bell rings for their next class separately since he couldn't bribe bloodgood to have then take all the classes together but she said no but still gave a fair amount he was pleased with that but not fully.

As he watches [Name] and Manuella laugh all the way down the hall till they disappear he feels...neglected? He's not sure but it could be for all he knew, he was not used to this treatment, and as the tall prince stood there in the middle of the hallway almost every Monster was in their class while he just stood there...for a while.

As lunch time rolled around we can see [Name] with Manuella who is talking really enthusiastically to the ghoul next to her, Nefero walks into the cafeteria in hopes to at least be sitting with [Name] and ask her on a shopping date.

'Maybe if we go on a date shopping around will fix what's going on' he thinks as he approaches their usual table to be created by Manuella talking quickly with a bright smile, looking at [Name] making the poor guy frustrated that she was still taking his personal time with his girlfriend.

He shrugs himself up, smooths out his hair back and proceeds to walk up to [Name] with confident strides.

When he gets to her free side he starts to say "hello my queen,are you free this Saturday? I'd like to go with you to the mall, maybe buy you a matching new wardrobe for me and you" he looks at her smiling, expectancy in his purple bright eyes.

[Name]'s smile falters into a sympathetic one "oh Nefie I'm so sorry I can't this Saturday I'm busy that day" she looks down sheepishly and ashamed that she had to let him down on his kind offer.

[Name] felt extremely guilty to do this to her wonderful boyfriend but she would make it up with the surprise she had planed just for him and only him, she just loved Nefero so much,more than words can say,so it really did hurt her to leaving him like this for the past week to plan her surprise with Manuella.

Nefero looked away as he shook his head and walked away quickly out of the cafeteria he would just not eat for now, maybe later, just when he's not distraught and sad.

[Name] watched as her boyfriend walked out in a haste, she turns to her friend "I feel awful, I hope he'll like the surprise but this is killing me Manuella" Manuella reassures her "don't worry (n/n) I'm sure he'll love the surprise and understand why you've been hanging out so much with me this week" [name] nods and gives a small smile "yeah hope so"

_______________________________________

Saturday rolls around and Nefero gets out of the limo that sits in front of the large mall, this was the next best thing he could do for his paranoid brain,he had previously spent the whole night worrying.

But that thought was so silly she wouldn't do that, not after the countless times they shared their most intimate secrets to each other, especially not when they had touched skin with skin in the most close/intimate of positions.

He walks along the endless hallway in the mall, his teal and gold hair sways behind him, the heels on his knee high boots click on the floor.

'No she wouldn't' he told himself over and over as if he said it as many times as he could it would eventually become a secret spell to possibly prevent his worst fear.

[Name] leaving him without a second thought.

Nefero walked along the mall with his servants. He hadn't gone into any store so far but eventually he probably just not as quickly as usual.

He turns a corner and as his eyes redirect landing on a well known figure, it was his girlfriend walking hand in hand with Manuella going into a store

"..." Nefero stopped in his tracks stunned, he stared in shock and disbelief at what he was seeing, there wasn't a good explanation for this, right?!

She couldn't do this to him could she?!!

He quickly turns the other way and starts to run back to the entrance where he frantically looks around "where is the limo! Get it here now!" He yelled at his servants " get it here this instant!"

After several minutes the limo gets there and Nefero practically leaps into the backseat and starts barking others "TAKE ME BACK HOME THIS INSTANT" tears start to quickly run down to his cheek and chin, his usual elegant composure gone and stripped.

____________________________________

In his room we see Nefero sobbing into his velvet pillow he wears a green robe his hair is all messy and stuck to any exposed skin with sweat and tears, there's used napkins surrounded him, an empty bucket of chocolate ice-cream on his nightstand

"*sob**snif*Nefero tries to keep his sobs to a minimum but the intense feeling of betrayal was just too strong so he wept hard not caring anymore, how could he? The only ghoul he truly loved was with another for what it seemed to him, so might as well cry his un dead heart all he pleased.

Nefero looked to the side at his night stand that held the discarded carton of ice-cream and next to it the photo of him and [Name] he'd have to pack it away later, he stared into those (e/c) eyes and felt his own eyes sting from the endless river of tears.

*Buzz* *Buzz*

The sound of his eyecoffin getting a notification made him stop for a brief moment, he reluctantly gets up from his laying position and goes to grab it, he takes in a sharp breath when he sees who had texted him, it was [Name] it read

'Hey! Im coming over, i want to tell you something'

Nefero frowns but decides to at least confront her, he gets up takes off his robe to reveal that he still had his outfit from the mall, he goes to his vanity and quickly reduces his makeup to at least look decent and not like a pathetic mess.

After 20 minutes getting ready (which was shorter than the usual time) he walks down to the front of the house and as he gets to the front door the bell rings meaning [Name] arrived

Nefero walks up, opening the door with a cold expression; he expects to see [Name] and Manuella together but it was just her he raises an eyebrow.

[Name] covers her nose but a grin is still seen from underneath "Nefie look!" She takes down her hand to reveal a green septum piercing.

Nefero stares in confusion "wait what?" [Name] sees he's confused so she goes to explain herself "I know I haven't been as present in our relationship, it was because I've been wanting to get this septum piercing but since I didn't know much I asked Manuella to educate me and help me pick!" She quickly explains

"and so when I told you I couldn't go with you to the mall today it was because I was going to get it but I needed some moral support so Manuella came with me even helped me relax holding my hand since im kinda bad with piercings, remember my belly button piercing and how you held my hand? I need that but i couldn't spoil the surprise" her wide smile as she told the story.

"You.. wanted to surprise me with a new piercing of my favorite color" he gets up close to her face reaching a hand to the side of her face moving her head side to side looking at it clearly "it's beautiful" he smiles relief going through his body that it was just a misunderstanding on his part

"I love it" his darling smiles at him ecstatic "Really!" She holds his hand that was on her face and squeezes it as she jumps up and down "Haha yes my jewel!" Nefero picks her up and swings her around, he sets her down and hugs her tight her chest pressing against his "I guess I need to stop over exaggerating things in my head" he whispers in her hair "what do you mean Nefie?" She asks still being pressed into his chest

"I sort of thought you got bored of me and were cheating on me with Manuella" [Name] gasps "Nefie! I'd never do that!!" She huffs backing away and crossing her arms.

Nefero laughed at her cuteness "yes yes I know I was just...*sigh* very confused and hurt when you started to pull away and be around Manuella, you could say I was jealous she took all your attention" he admitted looking down at his shoes in shame, [Name] gets up close and cups his cheek making him look at her "my darling Nefie I'm truly sorry I made you think that I got bored of you or that I didn't love you,and for what it's worth-" she took a deep breath looking deep into his eyes with a smile.

"I will never stop loving the Manster I fell so deeply for since the first day we met,you are my world you are my sun and i your moon without you my existence would be meaningless without your beams of light I'd be left in the unseen,unnoticed but YOU can see my cracks and uneven edges only you can see up close unlike any other." She leans in and kisses him sweetly on his lips, happy tears start to flow down from Nefero's eyes as he uses his hands to close the gap between them once more and kisses back with just as much love.

The sweet close connection of their lips danced the same tune they've known, tongue's intertwined as passion mixed itself with desire, they stop for air gasping hot heavy pants "thank you my jewel, you are truly my goddess sent from the heavens and to think you would chose me" he steals another kiss.

"I'll always chose you in any life...in any universe" she grabs his hand smiling "Let's go inside Nefie I've missed you~" She purred making Nefero blushed yet smiled at her "lead the way my queen~”

____________________________________________

Hi hi! hope you all liked this one and hope I did it justice, I may edit later maybe change a few things,but for now I'm quite happy with how it turned out thanks for the request!!

@myjerseygirlblog

Hope it's up to your standards and I honestly love your request their so creative and they push my brain to think so if you have any more at any point in time please request away!!

And any other person who wishes to see their request/promt written of any monster high or ever after high character x reader one-shot, please request away as well!

And I feel like I'm getting better in suggestive sensual insinuations? Idk I'm trying my best

Hope ya'll have an awesome day/night

byeeeee ♡♡♡♡

[jasmine7031]

おみ乃 椿

Last Saturday, I ate some amazingly delicious and stylish yakitori at Kyoubashi. The egg-cooked rice and minced rice bowl at the end were exquisite.

[santacoppelia]

Just a little something about 15th, 14th and healing.

There was this one thing that has been living rent free in my head since I watched The Giggle on Saturday. Well, a lot of things, really, but...

When 15th hugged 14th for the first time... It hit an emotional chord really hard.

This made me think of all the times that my therapist insisted on me loving and understanding my past self (and how good it finally felt when I was able to accept that chubby, weird, obsessive, anxious little person I was as a child and a teenager... And I accepted all the anger and fear and hurt they had inside, and how much it still drove my adult self).

Also reminded me of a common theme on conversations, about how younger generations are doing the "emotional healing" for all the generational trauma that previous generations never knew how to process. How younger generations are addressing and working on what older siblings, parents and grandparents tried so hard not to see, but that were marking the life of every generation.

And... the main idea it left stuck in my emotional fridge was "make sure to be the adult you needed when you were younger". That's a truism I'm pretty sure I found here a long time ago, or on an IG post, one of those things that sound so "self help" that it is almost embarrassing to admit how helpful you find them when they actually come true (happened to me).

That hug is all of these things, on a Timelord scale.

Ncuti is so perfect to be the Doctor Who who finally addressed the trauma, was ready to be present for all his past selves (not only in the heroic way, as was in the 50th Anniversary Special, but emotionally too), accepts all of the past... And lets it heal.

15th will be so fresh and ready to run new adventures. This hug was the most stellar presentation he could have received... And I'm so ready to see him run, have fun, be cheeky and smart and compassionate and THE MOST STYLISH EVER.

Go on, Doctor. Heal and be happy. We all deserve it, and you've reminded us all about it.

[angel-sweets666]

How did strade catch you?

strade x reader

warnings: kidnapping, drugging ect yk strade stuff

Strade first saw you when you moved into the house next door. From the moment you arrived, you exuded a warmth and friendliness that caught his attention. On the day you moved in, you went out of your way to introduce yourself to him, chatting easily and flashing a bright smile. Strade couldn’t help but be captivated by your charm and beauty.

As the days passed, his thoughts were increasingly consumed by you. He found himself watching you more closely, admiring your every move. You were just so pretty, almost perfect in his eyes. Yet, a darker thought gnawed at the edges of his mind. Wouldn't you be even prettier with some blood? The idea thrilled him in a twisted way, making his desire to catch you grow even stronger. You were becoming an obsession, and he was determined to have you, no matter the cost.

One day, while you were taking out the trash, you noticed the man watching you from the window. You smiled and waved up at him, and he waved back, his usual toothy grin flashing. Strade opened the window and lit a cigarette, the smoke curling lazily around his head.

"Hey buddy! Whatcha doing?" he called out.

"Taking out my trash!" you replied, walking closer to his window so you could hear him more clearly.

"Oh, that's fun. Garbage man should be here tomorrow!" he said with his casual German accent, which always seemed to add an extra layer of charm to his words.

Strade leaned against the windowsill, his eyes fixed on you. "Say, wanna go for a drink tomorrow night?"

His invitation took you by surprise, but his charming demeanor and that captivating accent made it hard to refuse. You considered his offer for a moment, feeling a mix of excitement and curiosity. "Sure, that sounds like fun," you replied with a smile.

"Great," he said, his grin widening. "I'll pick you up around eight."

As you walked back to your house, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation. Strade was always such a charmer, and there was something intriguing about him that you couldn't quite put your finger on. Tomorrow night promised to be interesting, and you found yourself looking forward to getting to know your mysterious neighbor a little better.

8 o’clock that Saturday rolled around, you got into a casual outfit that could work for a bar or a fancy place. A knock on the door scams and raced down “hey strade” you smiled and he held the door open for you “hey buddy!” He grinned “I know a bar, I’ll take you there” he informed you

Eight o'clock that Saturday finally rolled around. You stood in front of your mirror, carefully selecting a casual outfit that could work for both a laid-back bar and a more upscale place, just in case. After a few moments of indecision, you settled on a stylish yet comfortable ensemble that made you feel confident.

A knock on the door broke the silence, and you felt a rush of excitement as you raced downstairs. You opened the door to find Strade standing there, his usual toothy grin in place.

"Hey, Strade," you greeted him with a smile.

"Hey, buddy!" he replied warmly, holding the door open for you with a slight bow. His charm was irresistible, and you found yourself grinning back.

"I know a great bar nearby," he informed you, his German accent adding an extra layer of allure to his words. "I'll take you there."

As you walked to his car, you noticed how different he looked tonight—more relaxed, yet there was a gleam in his eyes that hinted at hidden depths. The drive to the bar was filled with easy conversation. Strade had a way of making you feel comfortable, like you had known each other for years.

The bar he took you to was cozy, with dim lighting and a welcoming atmosphere. The chatter of patrons and the soft hum of music created a perfect backdrop for the evening. Strade led you to a corner booth, where you both settled in. He ordered drinks for both of you, his confidence evident in the way he spoke to the bartender.

"So, tell me more about yourself," Strade said, leaning in slightly, his eyes locked onto yours.

You shared stories about your move, your job, and your hobbies. Strade listened intently, occasionally interjecting with witty remarks that made you laugh. He shared bits about his own life, his accent making even the mundane details sound fascinating.

As the night went on, the drinks flowed, and the conversation deepened. Strade had a way of making you feel special, like you were the only person in the room. His gaze was intense, yet there was a warmth to it that drew you in.

"Do you come here often?" you asked, curious about this side of him.

"Not as often as I'd like," he admitted. "But they have great beers and cheap booze so.. thought it work” he grinned “say! Want a drink?” He asked, you trusted him enough with you drink. Big mistake.

Soon enough, Strade was carrying your limp body in his arms, skillfully pretending that you had simply gotten sick from drinking too much. His face was a mask of concern as he navigated through the bar's exit, eliciting sympathetic glances from the few patrons who noticed. Gently, he placed you in the passenger seat of his car, buckling you in as if he were merely a friend ensuring your safety.

Strade stepped back, admiring his handiwork. "That was way too easy… You're easy to kidnap, Schatz," he chuckled softly, the sinister undertone of his words lost in the empty parking lot. His grin widened as he settled into the driver's seat, the adrenaline of his actions making his heart race.

As he drove through the quiet streets, Strade glanced over at you from time to time, his mind racing with the plans he had for you. The streetlights cast fleeting shadows across your face, highlighting the eerie calmness that had settled over you. In his mind, you were already his, a canvas for the twisted desires that he could barely contain.

The drive felt surreal, the usual humdrum of the night punctuated by the knowledge of what was to come. When he finally pulled up to his house, he quickly exited the car and circled around to your side. With practiced ease, he scooped you up again, your body limp and compliant in his arms.

He navigated through his house, the dim lighting casting long shadows on the walls. Strade moved with purpose, each step taking him closer to the basement door. He kicked it open with a quiet grunt, the creak of the door adding to the sinister atmosphere. The basement stairs loomed ahead, descending into darkness.

Carefully, he carried you down the stairs, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the confined space. The basement was cold and damp, a stark contrast to the warm, inviting bar where the evening had begun. Strade flicked on a light, the harsh glow illuminating a room that was far from welcoming.

He laid you down on the cold concrete floor, securing your wrists behind the metal pole that sat in the middle of the basement He took a step back, admiring the sight of you bound and helpless, completely at his mercy. Strade grinned a devilish grin “all mine now~ don’t worry shatz…I’ll keep you safe…”

[elliesbelle]

nobody compares to you

chapter 5

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, slight slut-shaming, brief mention of death, minors do not interact

word count: 2.3k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

featuring the isa song “sometimes you lose your soulmates”

Present Day 

Though you didn’t exactly enjoy Mondays, it was at least the one day of the week when you got to wake up naturally instead of at the crack of dawn. Your first class isn't until noon, so when you wake up at 9:30 in the morning, you decide to get your day started early. 

You weren’t always the type of person to completely do themselves up just to go to class. Maybe in freshman year for the first few weeks, but you were a seasoned vet now. Most of the time, some leggings and a simple shirt or sweater sufficed. But after such a shitty weekend, you figure you could at least make yourself feel good by looking good. 

After half an hour of getting ready, you look yourself over in the bathroom mirror. You smile, fairly satisfied with your appearance. Despite the cold breezes of Saturday night, the forecast called for a rare warm day. As a result, you allowed yourself a floral sundress, decorated with a puffy knitted, button-up jacket on top of it in case the season’s true weather decided to show. A pair of simple white sneakers finished your outfit; not the most stylish, but practically, you still had to walk around campus. 

Your lips shine from the bit of lip gloss you’d applied. You’d only applied some light mascara on today (you figured that your Literature and Sexuality class did not warrant your bold, false eyelashes). You’d lightly painted your eyes with colours that complemented those of your sundress, blending them seamlessly onto your eyelids. As you did this, that one memory that was prodding you two days ago became clearer. 

“I have no idea how you do that so naturally, dude.” Ellie’d said, watching you in awe from the foot of your bed. 

Her ocean green eyes watched the meticulous strokes of your makeup brush applying eyeshadow to your lids. It was early on in your “friendship” and it was still a couple more weeks of her calling you “dude” before you became “babe” and “baby.” 

“It’s not that hard, honestly. Just takes some practice.” You’d said, trying to keep your hand steady as you grew nervous under Ellie’s watchful gaze. 

“Nah, it’s natural talent. You’re an artist.” She’d replied. 

You’d scoffed, saying, “Ellie, all I’m doing is my makeup. You’re the actual artist, remember?” 

“No,” She’d shaken her head. “I just draw. You’re the artist here.” She’d said decidedly, eyes full of admiration as she continued to stare. 

You’d blushed furiously then, and you would continuously do so when you’d replay that memory the months following after. 

But it was two years later and now, the memory instead has you staring at your reflection tight-lipped and frowning. 

Why is she still everywhere? 

It was roughly a fifteen to twenty-minute walk from your apartment to the university. You lived in an off-campus apartment complex that was in a decent location from both the school and a downtown area nearby. It was less convenient than living on campus like several of your friends still did, and this certainly wasn’t what you’d had in mind when you were planning out your social college experience. But after the freshman year events of Rafael’s death and Ellie’s abandonment, you were far more comfortable where you were. 

You liked walking anyway. You found solace in the strolls you took, accompanied only by your thoughts and headphones. 

About five minutes into your trek to campus, you pull out your phone to text your friend Tara. 

A couple of minutes later, you were just officially entering the campus when Tara texts you back. 

You continue walking as you frown down at your phone. Dina had spent most of the previous day at your place, cheering you up and taking your mind off Ellie. Your group chat with your other friends was blowing up and by the end of the night when Dina had left, you were overwhelmed by the amount of unread texts you had. The group chat remained unopened until right now. 

The chat consisted of your friends Tara, Sidney, Astrid, Rebecca, Kristen, and Mina. You’d met them all in freshman year. Tara was your assigned roommate and Astrid was Dina’s. They were all initially casual friends, ones that you saw on a usual basis and got along well with, but they weren’t necessarily very close. You were better friends with the gang from Jackson. But after you came back to campus for sophomore year, you detached yourself slightly from Dina and Jesse, knowing full well that Ellie had them first. They both tried to remain closer to you; but they remained inseparable from their childhood best friend, not fully knowing what events led to what “broke up” you two. It wasn’t the same and it was a much different dynamic with this other friend group, but the girls were there for you all the same. 

Reluctantly, you click on the group chat named “Wilson Crew ❤️‍🔥” (Wilson Valley had been the name of the freshman dorm building most of you had resided in the first year). Scrolling up to where you’d left off, you scan the messages your friends had left the previous day. Your eyes grow wider and wider the more you read. 

The previous day, Tara, who worked at a campus coffee shop called Ruston Coffee, was tasked to train a new girl. To her, your other friends’, and now your shock, the new girl Tara was training was Freshman Girl. The same Freshman Girl who stayed glued to Ellie’s side for most of Saturday night. The same Freshman Girl who drooled over Ellie’s every word and move. The same Freshman Girl that mistook your Ellie’s signature lavender-laced joints as lilac. The same Freshman Girl who wore Ellie’s old motorcycle jacket the entire night. 

It turned out Freshman Girl did have a name: Daniela. Your friends had sent messages with different levels of shock and horror. Kristen called her a whore, to which Sidney agreed, to which Astrid reprimanded and told them both to be nice. Mina sent memes as a response. Tara also texted that Daniela would be working with her again today. 

You look up. Ruston Coffee is just down the way. You don't have to go in. You can skip coffee for today and hide out in the library instead. 

“I’m not expecting you and Ellie to magically make up. I won’t try to get into the middle of it because I know that’s between you two. But you definitely need to figure out this out, babe. This doesn’t seem like something that should remain unresolved.” Dina’d said.

“But don’t also let it affect all the other parts of your life, okay?" She continued. "She shouldn’t be stopping you from hanging out with me and Jess more often or going out to parties we’re at or anything that involves Ellie in some way. Don’t let her stop you from enjoying your life.” 

And Ellie certainly shouldn’t stop you from getting coffee. If you want to get a coffee and relax before class, Ellie should not be getting in the way of that. 

You take a deep breath and march towards the coffee shop, fingers gripping tightly onto the straps of your backpack and feet stomping in rhythm to good 4 u by Olivia Rodrigo blasting loudly through your headphones. 

A bell above the door tinkles as you enter Ruston Coffee. The shop was a little busy, most seats taken up by other students sitting with their laptops or biding time before class. There's a line of people by the register and you begin approaching it until you hear your name being called. 

Your friend Tara waves you over by the counter where orders are usually dropped off. In one of her hands is a straw and your ready-made mocha frappe. 

“You’re the literal best, Tara.” You sigh, pulling your headphones off and walking up to her. 

She hands you your coffee order. 

“No problem.” She says, smiling. “You know that I don’t mind.”

“Thank you for indulging in my caffeine addiction,” You say, whipping out your phone and sending her $6. 

Tara frowns and says, “You better not have given me a $3 tip this time.” 

You sip from your straw. 

“Dude!” Tara reprimands, laughing. 

“$2 tip!” You say, defensively. 

“Just for a $4 coffee.” She chides, shaking her head. 

You shrug. 

“So uh,” Tara begins, her voice lowered slightly. “Did you see what I said in the group chat yesterday? Cause you weren’t responding.” 

You gulp. 

“Uhh. Yeah, I did, just now. Sorry, Dina was at my place yesterday, so I was busy—” 

“Nah nah, it’s cool, man. But like. You saw what I said about that girl, right?” 

“Is she here?” You ask, chewing the inside of your cheek. 

“Not yet. But—” Tara checks her watch. “—she’s supposed to be here in less than five minutes or so.” 

Fuck. 

“Oh, okay.” You gulp, your heart rate increasing. 

“Are you okay, dude?” Tara asks. 

“No, yeah, I’m fine.” You lie. “How did training her yesterday go?” 

Tara crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. 

“Literally the worst. She kept on looking at her phone instead of listening, she left one AirPod in her ear the whole time, she kept asking when we were gonna be done. And now I have to go through it all again once she gets here.” 

You give Tara a sympathetic look. 

“I hate that,” You say, sucking on your teeth. “Can’t you just, I don’t know, not hire her?” 

“We’re short-staffed as fuck, so we don’t have much of a choice.” Tara sigh. 

One of Tara’s co-workers comes up behind her and attempts to elbow her ribs which she dodges easily. 

“Get back to work, Maclay.” He says, putting down two cups of coffee next to her before heading back towards the register. 

“Fuck off, Khanh!” She replies, shooting a middle finger to his back. 

“Should I let you get back to work?” You ask. 

“Nah,” Tara reassures. “I wanna shit talk this Daniela girl first before I have to deal with her this morning.” 

“Do you know how often she’s gonna be working with you?” You inquire. 

“I’m not sure yet, but if Bonnie thinks she’s gonna stick me with a lazy new girl this early in the year—” 

You hear the bell above the door tinkle as someone enters the coffee shop. Both you and Tara look instinctively at the new arrival. Tara groans silently and your throat goes dry. 

Freshman Girl Daniela walks in. Wearing Ellie’s jacket once again. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Crap, I gotta go now, I guess.” Tara whines begrudgingly. 

“Y-yeah…” You say, unable to take your eyes off of that same jacket that used to often adorn your shoulders back in your freshman year. You hate that it looked good on Daniela. 

“I’ll see you later, dude.” Tara says, wrenching her elbows off the counter and walking towards the register. 

“Good luck.” You reply. 

You aren't exactly subtle with your stare, but thankfully Daniela doesn't seem to notice. It's a little different seeing her now in the daytime. She was very pretty, you have to admit to yourself. She has a short, pixie cut that complements her sharp bone structure. She's wearing a bright yellow tank top below Ellie’s jacket that clings to her lean figure, making her stand out slightly. The light makeup she has on looks so simple and natural. 

Daniela wasn’t Ellie’s first conquest since you ended things with her. She didn’t waste much time dating around after you all came back for your sophomore year. You’d avoided her as much as possible so you wouldn't have to come face-to-face with the girls she’d get involved with. You still heard about them, of course, and you were sure there were even more than the ones you’d known about. 

But Daniela was the first you were forced to encounter. You weren’t prepared to be thrust right into Ellie’s love life once more. But here you are, staring at the most recent fling of the girl who you were once so desperately in love with. 

As Daniela lazily makes her way through the shop towards the back, you eventually tear your eyes off her and head straight for the exit. 

♫ Maybe she’ll come through / If he waits some more 

But she doesn’t / No, she doesn’t ♫ 

You're leaning against one of the trees in the quad, backpack laid next to you and headphones back on your ears. Your next class is in the building right behind you, but you still have a while until it started. 

♫ It’s not like the movies / Like you dream it’ll be 

Sometimes you lose your soulmates / And sometimes they leave ♫

Your journal and pen are laid out on your lap but abandoned as your fingers pick at the grass around you. Your mostly empty coffee cup sits next to you, condensation dripping into the soil. Your eyes are completely glazed over, watching the clouds in the sky. 

♫ She’s not a girl you forget / She’ll run through your head 

With all of the moments / You loved but now dread 

To remember / Burning like—♫ 

Your hands and voice react quicker than your mind does. Your sudden movements cause your headphones to fall onto your neck. After a second, you realize that you had shrieked and that your hands had flown up to your face to catch something. As you bring the object down to look at it, you realize it was a football. 

“Shit! I’m so sorry!” 

You look up to see a tall girl in a dark t-shirt and grey sweatpants jogging towards you, a dirty blonde braid bouncing behind her. 

“Abby?”

author's notes:

sorry for the delay in uploading this! i'm back from my brief vacation, and after i settled in after getting home, i almost immediately plopped down in front of my laptop to finalize this ldksfjsdlkds

not very chockful of ellie in this chapter, i know, i'm sorry! y'all got plenty last chapter! but don't worry, more will be coming up soon. i just enjoy keeping y'all in suspense.

i just wanna mention that most (if not all) of the names that i use in this fic are picked out people in the games themselves. also tara's last name is maclay as an homage to my lesbian queen tara maclay from buffy the vampire slayer. she's not the same character obvi, but i just enjoy putting in the reference :)

freshman girl aka daniela may have been named after and based on some whore girl that my ex left me for and that i'm still bitter about it oops

i hope y'all enjoyed the surprise guest appearance at the end of this chapter! she will be integrated further into the story from this point on, so stayed tuned :)

taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly, @elliesinterlude, @sawaagyapong, @peppesgirl, @iconsoft, @maybeidohaveadhd, @ellieswifee, @valiantllamapersonpony-blog, @nil-eena, @echostinn, @uraesthete, @softbunlvr, @cherriessxinthespring, @amitycat, @chrissyfishywissy, @yevheniiaaa, @machetegirl109, @bertandfearnie, @ximtiredx, @efam, @elliesnoviecita, @oatmilkchaii, @tayyyystan, @emothurman, @livvy-2000, @abigaillovestoread, @gold-dustwomxn, @liabadoobee, @yuckyfucky

[al-the-remix]

Six Sentence Saturday (or something like that)

Starting on my second bucktommy fic 😌 This was inspired by a post I'm pretty sure @unfuckablebogtroll made a few months ago that I can't find anymore, but the gist is that Tommy buys his house during the 2007/8 financial crash, refinances during covid, and has been saving since then to be able to renovate it himself. In this fic Buck's obviously going to volunteer to help Tommy out ( with his previous construction experience and all) and slowly insinuate himself into Tommy's home without either of them fully realizing it...at first. Buck learns Tommy as he learns more about his house: starting the inside and working outwards. Meanwhile Tommy learns how to let people help him and that Buck's really in it for the long haul ✨

“Hey, can I ask you a question?”

Looking over his shoulder, Tommy raises a brow. He’s elbow-deep in Evan’s kitchen sink, warm, sudsy water tickling his skin as he finishes the last of the dinner dishes. Evan made a chicken parm that had Tommy contemplating the existence of God and carefully planning the head he’d be giving his boyfriend later. As long as Tommy had known him–which was admittedly not very long–Evan has been a shoot first, ask questions later kind of guy. More likely to barrel through any awkwardness than couch his questions in some kind of lead up. “Of course you can, you know that.”

Evan takes the plate Tommy offers him in hand, drying it and setting it aside, his expression just hesitant enough to give Tommy pause. 

“Why do we always hang out at my place?”

The question startles a laugh from him. That…wasn’t what Tommy had been expecting. “We don’t, sometimes we go on dates.” Tommy allows his face to settle, faux serious and gently teasing. “Are you claiming I’m not romancing you enough Buckley, because I take that accusation very seriously.”

It gets him the reaction he was hoping for: Evan rolls his eyes like he’s aiming to hit 20 Klicks into the stratosphere and keep climbing. He can hear Evan's common refrain in his head, only coworkers call me Buckley, and I don’t even want to contemplate explaining what we’ve been up to to HR.

 “Ha, ha. You know that’s not what I meant. You don’t think it’s a little weird that it’s been two months and I haven’t made it past your garage?”

Tommy’s brain goes straight to the gutter, but Evan’s arms are crossed over his chest in what Tommy has come to learn is a tell-tale sign of him feeling a little insecure.

Tommy tucks away the innocent expression he’d been pulling and sighs, yanking the plug and reaching for the discarded towel to wipe his hands clean. “I mean, it’s a shorter drive for me to come here from Harbour than make you slog it all the way out to mine. I was just trying to make things easier on you.”

Evan holds up his hands like he’s trying to brace both himself and Tommy for his next question. “Okay, let me be more direct. Do you still live with your mom?”

That one shocks, a genuine, full belly laugh from him. The concern on Evan’s face is beginning to grow, and Tommy waves him off. 

“No, it’s nothing like that. My place is just…a little unfinished at the moment, is all.”

Evan’s apartment was so put together it had honestly taken Tommy aback the first time he’d gotten a good look at it He didn’t know what he’d been expecting but it hadn’t been anything this nice, clean, or stylish, and the next opportunity he’d had to linger and poke around…with fewer distractions…he had quickly reevaluated the person he’d assumed Evan to be based on first impressions alone.

It had been his first in a long chain of lessons he’d learnt to never underestimate Evan Buckley. It had also made him feel slightly…lacking.

“Okay,” Evan says slowly, he’s using that tone of voice that usually means he already has a succession of twenty questions in the barrel and was just barely holding back from pulling the trigger.  “Unfinished, how?”

Tommy scratches at the side of his nose before he can stop himself. A nervous tick. “Well, I bought it with the intention of renovating it myself--my first job was working for a contractor–but I, uh, kept getting a little side tracked.”

Evan shrugs. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“You haven’t seen it yet…” Tommy warns.

Evan’s smile slides sideways. “Yeah, and don’t you think it’s a little unfair that Eddie’s seen your place and your boyfriend hasn't?”

He feels silly, but Tommy can’t stop the way his stomach goes hot and squirmy every time Evan says it. Boyfriend–like it’s a pearl cupped lovingly on the bed of his tongue. 

It’s Tommy’s turn to roll his eyes. He reaches out, covering Evan’s damp hand with his own and offering him a direct, hot-eyed look. “I’m not trying to impress Eddie.”

His words have their intended effect, Evan grins and ducks his head, cheeks going pleasantly red. 

Evan laces their fingers together. “I don’t care how rough it is around the edges, I want to see every part of you,” he says, devastatingly sincere. 

Every time Tommy thinks he’s gotten an upper hand on his feelings, Evan throws him for a loop. “Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

Evan’s grin spreads across his face like soft butter on toast. “You got it.”

[reidmarieprentiss]

Bridges to Belonging

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Six Part Seven

Summary: Spencer and Y/N go on their date!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: suggestive conversation, self doubt, glasses Spencer, reader wears glasses/contacts but other than that i'm trying not to give her a physical description, let me know if i do put her in a narrow category!! i know i said she had curves at rossi's dinner party but to be objectively fair every human has at least one curve lmao

Word count: 5.4k

a/n: i am really enjoying writing these two :') life has been so boring since i graduated. if you're wondering how i bust these out so fast, one -- i don't have a life, and two - i wrote all of my essays the night before or the day they were due hahah

main masterlist

It was Saturday morning, and the air held a crispness that hinted at the excitement of the day ahead. Y/N stood before her wardrobe, contemplating her outfit for the day. She opted for something comfortable yet dressy enough for wherever Spencer might be taking her. The outfit was stylish but not overly formal, perfect for a day that could involve a fair amount of walking yet elegant enough for an unexpected dinner venue. She chose layers—a practical choice that allowed for adjustments depending on whether the day turned warm or cool.

As she dressed, a flutter of excitement danced in her stomach, mixed with a tinge of anxiety that she couldn't shake off. Y/N was excited, truly, but she couldn’t help tempering her anticipation with a cautious restraint. Her past experiences with relationships and dates had taught her to guard her heart. More than once, she'd been let down, left to pick up the pieces after what she thought were promising beginnings fizzled into disappointment. These memories, still vivid, cast a shadow over her current excitement, reminding her to brace for any outcome.

Approaching her dresser, Y/N paused, her hand hovering over her contact lens case. Usually, she preferred contacts for a more put together look, especially when putting extra effort into her appearance. However, remembering the discomfort of her contacts drying out during unexpected long hours, she opted for her glasses instead. She hadn't worn them the first time she met Spencer, and a small part of her worried about what he'd think. Would he notice? Would he care?

She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, now framed by the sleek lines of her glasses. Taking a deep breath, she told her reflection, "Just enjoy the day, no matter what comes," trying to bolster her spirits. She wanted to listen to that optimistic voice in her head telling her everything would be fine, that Spencer was different, that this time it wouldn't end in disappointment. Yet, she prepared herself mentally for any scenario, unwilling to let her guard down completely.

Y/N grabbed her essentials—phone, wallet, a light scarf—and slipped them into her bag. As she took one last look in the mirror, she practiced her smile, the one she’d use to mask her nerves when she met Spencer. She hoped the day would prove her fears unfounded, that it would be a turning point from her past experiences. But she kept her expectations in check, a self-protective measure honed by past heartaches.

—

As the morning sunlight streamed through the blinds of his apartment, Spencer Reid found himself standing before the bathroom mirror, his usual nerves mingling with a specific concern today. He adjusted his glasses, the frames unfamiliar against the bridge of his nose, as he leaned closer to examine his reflection. His contacts had dried out, an unfortunate oversight, leaving him no choice but to wear his glasses for the date with Y/N.

He studied himself critically. The glasses were practical, a necessity for his work, but he rarely wore them anymore. There was something about them that made him feel exposed, more like the bookish nerd he had always been, and who he had been made fun of for being, and less like the confident man he hoped to appear as today. What if she doesn’t like them? The question nagged at him, adding an extra layer of anxiety to his already jittery state.

Spencer took a deep breath, trying to center himself. He remembered reading that people often perceive glasses as a sign of intelligence and reliability, traits he hoped Y/N would appreciate. Still, he couldn't help but worry that perhaps she might prefer him without them, or that they might alter the way she saw him—literally and metaphorically.

As he turned away from the mirror, he made his way to his bedroom to choose his outfit. He opted for a smart-casual ensemble that felt comfortable yet presentable: a crisp button-down shirt paired with a well-fitted blazer, and his best jeans. The glasses, he decided, would just have to become part of his look for the day.

With his outfit sorted, Spencer paced his living room, every potential topic of conversation he had prepared buzzing through his mind. His thoughts were filled with bits of trivia about the latest exhibits at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, hoping these would spark engaging discussions between him and Y/N. He rehearsed some points in his head, mapping out how he might transition from discussing ancient artifacts to more personal subjects, like her interests and hobbies.

However, as much as he prepared, his thoughts kept drifting back to his glasses. He paused in his pacing, catching his reflection in the window. The morning light cast a soft glow that somehow made the glasses seem less obtrusive, more a part of him. "Maybe it's not so bad," Spencer muttered to himself, adjusting to his reflection.

He grabbed his notebook from the coffee table, a little ritual that always helped calm his nerves. Scribbling down some last-minute notes about things he wanted to remember—like asking Y/N about her recent projects and ensuring to mention a little-known fact about an art piece he thought she'd appreciate—helped him feel more in control.

Yet, beneath the surface of his meticulous preparations, there was an undercurrent of excitement. This wasn't just any date; it was a date with Y/N, someone who had sparked a level of interest in him that was rare and invigorating. The glasses, he realized, were just a minor detail in the grand scheme of things. What mattered was the connection they might deepen today.

Finally ready, Spencer took one last look around his apartment to ensure everything was in order before leaving. He grabbed his keys and his jacket, pushed up his glasses with a newfound sense of acceptance, and headed out the door. Today, he decided he would focus on the possibilities, not the insecurities. After all, if their connection was genuine, Y/N would see beyond the glasses to the person behind them. And perhaps, in those museum halls filled with timeless artifacts, they could find something just as enduring between them.

—

Y/N arrived at the coffee shop Spencer had texted her about, her heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and nerves. She spotted Spencer already there, waiting for her by the window, a steaming cup in front of him. He looked up as the bell above the door jingled, his face lighting up when he saw her. Despite her nervousness, Y/N felt a warm flutter in her chest at the sight of his welcoming smile.

"Hey, Y/N, over here!" Spencer called out softly, waving her over.

She walked towards him, her steps hesitant but eager. "Hey, Spencer," she greeted, her voice slightly quivering. As she sat down, she noticed his glasses and couldn't help but smile. "I like your glasses," she said, touching the frame of her own as if to point out the coincidence.

Spencer chuckled, a blush creeping up his cheeks. "Thanks, I usually wear contacts, but, you know, they dried out."

"Same here," Y/N admitted, feeling a connection over their shared minor dilemma. "It’s a glasses kind of day, I guess."

Internally, Y/N felt a surge of relief. Seeing Spencer in his glasses, looking unexpectedly handsome, eased her worries about her own appearance. My god, I didn’t think he could get anymore attractive, she thought, her initial anxiety about her own glasses fading away and being replaced with a warmth that couldn’t be helped by removing her scarf. Maybe all of her clothes. 

Spencer felt a similar relief, his earlier concerns about his glasses dissolving as he saw Y/N's reaction. She doesn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, she looks adorable in hers. Maybe this isn’t such a big deal after all, he reassured himself. His thoughts remained much more pure than Y/N’s, although he couldn’t help but think about how if he tried to kiss her today their glasses would clink together. The thought made a blush rise up his neck to his cheeks. 

There was a brief pause, an almost knowing silence, before Spencer leaned forward, his eyes bright with excitement. "So, I have something planned for us today. I hope you'll like it. We’re going to the Met. There’s a few exhibits I think you’d really enjoy, and then I thought we could grab dinner at a nice place nearby. How does that sound?"

Y/N's eyes widened, her earlier anxieties melting away into genuine excitement. "That sounds amazing, Spencer. I’ve always wanted to go to the Met! And dinner sounds perfect," she replied, her nervousness turning into anticipation.

Spencer seemed relieved by her enthusiasm. "Great! I wasn’t sure what you’d think. I mean, it’s a bit of a train ride, but I thought it might be fun to spend the day in New York."

"It’s more than fun, it’s perfect," Y/N assured him, her smile sincere. "I can’t think of a better way to spend the day." And she meant it, they could talk on the train ride there and back, maybe hold hands, brush thighs. It’s in the little things. 

They decided to take their coffee to go, stepping out together towards the train station. As they walked, the initial awkwardness began to fade. Spencer’s eyes occasionally met Y/N’s, each glance accompanied by a shy smile. "I’m really glad you’re here with me," Spencer confessed, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone.

"Me too," Y/N responded, her heart skipping a beat. "I’ve been looking forward to this all week."

Their conversation drifted to lighter topics, each shared laugh bringing them a little closer, building a bridge over their initial anxieties. As they boarded the train, Y/N felt a newfound optimism. Today was not just another date; it was the beginning of something special, she could feel it. And as they settled into their seats, watching the cityscape start to pass by, she believed, for the first time in a long time, that her hopes were well placed.

As the train clattered along the tracks toward New York, Y/N and Spencer found themselves in the comfortable cocoon of their shared booth. The cityscape blurred past, creating a serene backdrop for their burgeoning connection.

"So, Spencer," Y/N began, leaning forward with a playful glint in her eyes, "tell me about the most bizarre case you've ever worked on. I promise I can handle it."

Spencer chuckled, a blush already tinting his cheeks. "Well, there was this one time we dealt with a suspect who believed he was a 21st-century vampire..." As he recounted the peculiarities of the case, Y/N listened intently, occasionally brushing her foot against his under the table, sending a jolt through him each time. 

(Pretend this case happened earlier)

"Vampires, huh? Are you sure you aren't one?" Y/N teased, her tone light but suggestive. "You do have a certain... nocturnal charm."

Spencer's laugh was nervous, delighted. She's incredible, he thought. So bold and funny. It's utterly disarming. "I assure you, I'm not a vampire. Just a regular guy who happens to have naturally sunken eyes."

Y/N smiled and giggled, pleased with his playful response. "Good to know. I prefer my dates to be sunlight-friendly. Speaking of which, how do you usually spend your days off when you're not chasing fictional vampires or real criminals?"

Spencer found himself more relaxed as he shared more about his love for reading and rewatching sci-fi movies and TV. Y/N seemed genuinely interested, her responses peppered with witty remarks that kept him on his toes.

"Reading, huh? I should have guessed," she said, taking a sip of her coffee. "Next you'll be telling me you have a cat named Schrödinger."

"No cat," Spencer admitted, grinning. "But I wouldn't mind one. As long as it doesn't interfere with my reading."

Their conversation flowed effortlessly from books to favorite ways to spend a rainy day, each topic drawing them closer. Y/N's confidence and teasing made Spencer's heart race, but he found himself enjoying the thrill of it. She’s so refreshing, exciting even. I haven't felt this engaged in a long time.

As the train rolled closer to their destination, Spencer found himself wishing the ride wouldn't end. Y/N had the rare ability to make him blush and laugh in equal measure, a combination he found intoxicating.

"So, Spencer," Y/N leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a whisper as the train noise crescendoed around them. "If today goes well... would you consider making our next date a night at the opera? I hear it's quite the experience."

Spencer's eyes widened, both at the suggestion and her proximity. "I'd like that," he managed to say, his voice steady despite the butterflies in his stomach. "I'd like that very much."

Y/N smiled, her gaze lingering on his for a moment longer than necessary before she leaned back in her seat, satisfied with his response. Spencer watched her, a smile tugging at his lips, his earlier nerves replaced by anticipation and hope. She’s already wanting another date? I’m still hoping I can work up the courage to kiss her, he thought as the skyline of New York City came into view.

As they stepped into the grandeur of The Metropolitan Museum of Art, the vast spaces filled with centuries of art and history, Y/N's excitement was palpable. Her eyes sparkled with each new room they entered, each piece they observed. Spencer, usually reserved, found himself drawn out by her enthusiasm, his voice animated as he shared insights and facts about the artworks around them.

They wandered through the exhibit "The Philippe de Montebello Years: Curators Celebrate Three Decades of Acquisitions," where Y/N's favorite pieces resided. Her gaze lingered on each work, genuinely appreciating the artistry and the stories Spencer told her about the origins and significance of each piece.

"Did you know this particular painting was considered lost for almost two centuries before it was found in a small, forgotten chapel in Italy?" Spencer pointed to an intricate Renaissance painting, its colors vibrant even after all these years.

Y/N listened intently, her interest deepening with each fact. "I had no idea," she responded, her tone full of genuine fascination. "You know so much about all of this, Spencer. It's incredibly... exciting."

Spencer, caught off guard by her candid compliment, blushed deeply but couldn't suppress the grin that spread across his face. "Really?" he asked, his voice a mix of surprise and delight.

"Yes, really," Y/N affirmed, stepping closer to him. "Your brain is the sexiest thing about you, Spencer. The way you know all these things, the way you're so passionate about sharing them—it’s captivating."

Encouraged by her words, Spencer found himself sharing even more. They stopped in front of a medieval tapestry, its threads telling tales of battles and legends. As he explained the symbolism woven into the fabric, Y/N's admiration only grew. She watched him, not just listening but truly seeing him—someone who had finally found a receptive audience for his wealth of knowledge.

Spencer felt a thrill unlike any other. For so long, he had been used to people tuning out his ramblings, to seeing eyes glaze over halfway through his explanations. But with Y/N, it was different. She hung on his every word, her curiosity feeding his own, her enthusiasm fueling a confidence he rarely felt in social settings.

As they moved through the museum, their conversation flowed effortlessly from art to personal anecdotes, each story Spencer shared bringing a new sparkle to Y/N's eyes. He talked about his mother, his childhood filled with books instead of playdates, and she listened, understanding and nodding, sharing bits of her own life in return.

The day at the Met became more than just a date; it was a revelation for both. For Y/N, it was discovering that someone could match her enthusiasm for learning and experiencing new things. For Spencer, it was the joy of finding someone who not only appreciated his intellect but was genuinely excited by it.

As the museum began to close, and they slowly made their way out, neither of them wanted the day to end. They were lost in a bubble where art and intellect intertwined, where every fact shared was a thread pulling them closer together.

As Spencer and Y/N stepped out of The Metropolitan Museum of Art, the energy of New York City enveloped them once again. The streets buzzed with the usual symphony of honking cars, chattering pedestrians, and the distant siren of an emergency vehicle. Spencer turned to Y/N, a thoughtful look on his face.

“There’s a restaurant not too far from here where the team and I ate after wrapping up a case once,” he suggested. “It’s really good, not too fancy but the food is excellent. It might be a bit of a walk, though, so we could grab a cab if you’re tired from all the museum walking.”

Y/N, reveling in the connection they had fostered throughout the day, shook her head with a smile. “I don’t mind the walk, actually. It’s a beautiful evening, and I’m enjoying spending time with you. Let’s walk.”

Spencer nodded, visibly pleased by her eagerness to extend their time together. They started down the sidewalk, navigating through the bustling crowd. The city seemed to glow with a warm, golden light as the sun began to set, casting long shadows on the pavement.

As they were walking, the crowd around them thickened momentarily as people hurried to cross the street before the light changed. In the midst of this, a passerby stumbled a bit too close to Y/N, jostling her slightly. Instantly, Spencer’s protective instincts kicked in. He placed his hand on her lower back, gently pulling her closer to his side, away from the rush of the crowd.

The contact sent an unexpected jolt through Y/N, a spark that felt electric. Surprised and thrilled by the sensation, she instinctively reached for his bicep, feeling the solid muscle under her hand, and linked her other arm around his. The gesture was intimate, natural, and it seemed to anchor them both amidst the sea of people.

Spencer, who was so often touch-starved and reserved in his physical interactions, felt a warm thrill at her touch. His heart raced slightly, a pleasant buzz of excitement coursing through him. The feeling of her hand on his arm, her body close to his, was unexpectedly comforting and exhilarating. It was a simple gesture, but to Spencer, it felt significant, a physical affirmation of the connection they’d been building all day.

As they walked on, navigating the streets of New York toward the restaurant, Spencer felt a sense of contentment wash over him. Y/N’s presence at his side, the way she fit naturally into his space, made the city around them fade into a soft background. He found himself hoping that the evening would stretch on, reluctant to let go of the moment.

The walk to the restaurant became a leisurely stroll, each step taking them deeper into a shared comfort. They talked easily, laughter mingling with the city sounds, the initial spark at their contact evolving into a steady, warm glow. By the time they reached the restaurant, Spencer and Y/N were closer than ever, both physically and emotionally, eager to continue their evening together.

At the restaurant, the atmosphere was imbued with a sense of romance and intimacy, exactly the kind of place Spencer remembered and hoped would impress Y/N. The lighting was low and warm, casting soft shadows around the room and illuminating the tables with a gentle glow from the candles placed on each one. These candles, unscented and subtle, added a touch of elegance without overwhelming the senses. In the background, a live band played soft, sensual music, their melodies weaving through the conversations and enhancing the romantic vibe of the evening.

They were seated in an intimate curved booth that offered both privacy and comfort, allowing them to share each other's space effortlessly. It was cozy but spacious enough to not feel crowded, perfect for leaning in close and sharing quiet conversations.

Following the waiter's prompt, both Spencer and Y/N opted for red wine, a decision made easier by the fact that neither of them needed to drive back. As they sipped their wine, the rich, bold flavors seemed to deepen the already warm atmosphere, loosening inhibitions slightly.

Y/N, feeling the effects of the wine which always tended to make her feel a bit more daring, turned her full attention to Spencer. She smiled at him, her eyes twinkling with a mischievous light. “You know, I’ve been thinking,” she began in a slightly lower, flirtatious tone, “about how someone as smart as you, with all those facts in his head, must have some hidden talents I’ve yet to discover.”

Spencer, usually more reserved, felt a rush of boldness fueled by the wine and the undeniable chemistry between them. He returned her smile with one of his own, this one tinged with a newfound confidence. “Well, I might have a few surprises left,” he replied, his voice deeper than usual. “But I’m more interested in exploring what makes you... you. Besides, I find myself wanting to know all about your talents, hidden or otherwise.”

Y/N was pleasantly surprised by his reciprocation, the boldness of his words matching her own flirtatious energy. She leaned in closer, lowering her voice to match the intimacy of their booth. “Is that so? Well, I might just have to reveal a few secrets tonight,” she teased, her hand reaching under the table to lightly touch his leg.

The contact sent a thrill through Spencer, and he didn’t pull away. Instead, he welcomed it, letting her hand linger on him. The conversation shifted seamlessly from playful banter to deeper, more personal topics. They talked about their hopes, their fears, and the excitement of new experiences. Spencer found himself opening up more than he usually would, driven by the genuine interest Y/N showed in every word he said.

As the evening progressed, their connection deepened, bolstered by the wine and the enchanting setting. The music from the live band seemed to wrap around them, a soundtrack to the unfolding intimacy. Laughter and shared confidences filled their booth, the rest of the world fading into a distant murmur. For both Spencer and Y/N, the night was shaping up to be more enchanting than they had anticipated, each moment pulling them closer into a mutual fascination that promised only to grow.

As the train whisked them back towards home, the rhythm of the rails seemed to echo the residual buzz of the evening’s wine. Both Spencer and Y/N choose seats next to each other this time, their shoulders occasionally brushing in a comfortable, familiar manner. The closeness felt natural after the evening they had shared. They were both visibly tired, the excitement of the day and the indulgence in wine having drawn a gentle fatigue from them.

Despite the weariness, their conversation continued to flow smoothly, albeit with a quieter, more reflective tone than before. They leaned into each other slightly, the warmth between them palpable in the cool air of the train compartment.

“So, you’re a Doctor Who fan too?” Spencer asked, a hint of surprise and delight coloring his voice as they discovered yet another common interest.

“Yes, absolutely,” Y/N responded with a smile, her eyes lighting up. “I’ve been hooked since I was a kid. There’s just something about the Doctor’s adventures through time and space that’s captivating.”

Spencer nodded enthusiastically, his own fondness for the show sparking further attraction towards her. “I totally agree. It’s the blend of science fiction and deep moral questions that gets me. Plus, the Doctor is a great character—always changing, yet fundamentally the same.”

Their shared enthusiasm for the show spun off into a deeper discussion about their favorite episodes and Doctors, each reference pulling them closer in mutual geekdom. It was during this exchange that Spencer found himself making a spontaneous invitation, surprising even himself with his forwardness.

“You know, if you’re up for it, maybe you could come over sometime and we could watch a few episodes together? I have a pretty decent setup for a Doctor Who marathon,” Spencer suggested, his voice a mix of casual and hopeful.

Y/N’s smile broadened, and she nodded, her heart warmed by the invitation. “I’d love that. It sounds like a perfect plan.”

The ease with which they continued to talk about everything from favorite books to music showed how compatible they were, not just on a surface level but in deeper, more meaningful ways. Their laughter and shared looks filled the space around them, creating an intimate bubble even in the public setting of the train.

As the train neared their destination, both Spencer and Y/N felt a reluctance for the night to end—a sign of the significant connection they had forged. They exchanged sleepy smiles and soft words as the city lights began to grow brighter outside the train windows.

By the time the train pulled into the station, Spencer felt a sense of anticipation for their next meeting. Having Y/N in his apartment, a space he had never shared with a romantic interest before, felt like a big step, but it was one he was now eagerly looking forward to. The night had started as a hopeful date and had blossomed into the beginning of something truly special. As they stepped off the train, their hands found each other almost instinctively, a fitting end to a perfect day and the promise of more to come.

After exiting the train station, Spencer insisted on walking Y/N back to her apartment, citing crime statistics that painted a stark picture of the risks women faced when walking alone at night. Though the mood was light and jovial from their shared experiences of the day, his protective nature was evident, and Y/N appreciated his concern. 

The walk to her apartment was filled with light conversation and reflective pauses, both savoring the last few moments together. The city at night provided a beautifully lit backdrop, with street lamps casting soft glows on the sidewalks and the distant sounds of the city nightlife buzzing around them. Their fingers slotted together providing enough warmth to keep fires blazing within them both.

Upon reaching her apartment building, a comfortable silence fell over them as they stood at her doorstep, reluctant to end the evening. "Thank you, Spencer," Y/N said, her voice warm and sincere. "Today was amazing. Truly."

Spencer, his hands now shoved awkwardly into his pockets, nodded, his face showing a mixture of happiness and the usual nervousness that came when he was unsure of what to do next. "I had a great time too, Y/N. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Thank you for going with me."

Sensing his apprehension and wanting to ease his nerves, Y/N stepped closer and, on an impulse, kissed his cheek gently. "Goodnight, Spencer," she smiled, her eyes holding his gaze for a moment longer than necessary.

Spencer's face turned a deeper shade of red, his mouth gaping not unlike a fish before he managed a bashful, "Goodnight, Y/N." As she turned to enter her building, Spencer stood rooted to the spot for a few seconds, a hand reflexively touching the spot on his cheek where her lips had been.

He finally uprooted his feet and hailed a cab to take him home, his mind replaying every moment of the day and the evening, but especially that last, unexpected kiss on his cheek. He was absolutely buzzing with a mix of elation and disbelief. As the city lights passed by the cab's window, he couldn't keep the grin off his face, feeling an excitement he hadn't known in a long time.

Meanwhile, Y/N, after closing the door to her apartment, immediately dialed her mom. The time difference meant it was still early where her mom lived, and she knew she’d be awake. As soon as her mom answered, Y/N gushed, "Mom, I had the best date tonight. You remember I told you about Spencer from the FBI? It was with him."

Her mom's voice, hilarious and encouraging, came through the phone. "Tell me about it! But leave out the gory details."

“Mom!” Y/N whined petulantly but did as she asked anyway—she recounted every detail from the Met visit to the candlelit dinner and the casual yet intimate conversations they had shared. She described how considerate Spencer had been, walking her home and the protective reasons behind it, and she didn’t leave out the part about the kiss on the cheek that had left her feeling a pleasant flutter in her stomach.

"Mom, he’s different, really thoughtful and so smart. I think this could be something special," Y/N admitted, her voice a mixture of hope and a bit of wonder.

Her mom's reply was full of the usual maternal optimism and caution, "Just take it one step at a time. But he sounds wonderful. I’m happy for you."

Hanging up the phone, Y/N felt a contentment settle over her. The night had been perfect, and now, sharing it had made it feel even more real. As she got ready for bed, the memories of the evening played back in her mind, each one a promise of potential tomorrows.

— 

Sunday morning came too early for Y/N, her sleep interrupted by a loud banging on her apartment door. Disoriented and a bit alarmed, she pulled herself from the warmth of her bed, wondering who could be at her door at such an early hour. She wasn't expecting anyone, and the unexpected noise had her heart racing slightly as she approached the door.

Living in the city had taught Y/N to be cautious, but she also knew that only a select few knew her address—now Spencer and the Hotchners. With a mix of confusion and caution, she tiptoed to the door and peered through the peephole.

To her surprise and immediate relief, it was Penelope Garcia standing outside, her bright and colorful attire unmistakable even through the distorted view of the peephole. Penelope was holding a large carrier with what looked like coffee and pastries—a peace offering or perhaps a bribe for an early morning intrusion.

Y/N opened the door, her expression a mix of amusement and mock annoyance. "Penelope, what are you doing here this early?" she asked, though her tone was light and welcoming.

Penelope's face lit up with an excited grin, and she practically bounced on the spot. "Girl talk time! I brought reinforcements," she said, lifting the carrier slightly to emphasize the coffee and pastries. "I may or may not have used my magical database skills to find your address. I couldn't wait to hear all about your date with Spencer!"

Y/N couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head as she stepped aside to let Penelope into her apartment. "You're impossible," she said fondly. "But since you come bearing caffeine and carbs, I suppose I can forgive you."

Once inside, Penelope set the treats on the kitchen counter and turned to Y/N with wide, expectant eyes. "So? Tell me everything! Was it as magical as you hoped? Give me all the details!"

As Y/N poured them both coffee, she started recounting the events of the previous evening—from the walk through the Met to the candlelit dinner and the charming walk home. Penelope listened intently, occasionally interjecting with excited squeals or empathetic nods.

Y/N shared how comfortable she felt with Spencer, how their conversations flowed naturally, and how he made her laugh. She even blushed a bit when mentioning the protective gesture he made and the cheek kiss that ended the night.

Penelope was thrilled with every detail, her enthusiasm making Y/N relive the joy of the date all over again. "Spencer really likes you, you know," Penelope said with a knowing smile. "He even texted me because he had to tell someone how great the date went."

Hearing this, Y/N felt a warmth spread through her, her smile broadening. That man is just too sweet, I want to eat him up. 

[lemoncrushh]

Tattooed Heart - Part VI

SUMMARY: You are a cocktail waitress at a swanky lounge. Harry comes in one night, and you instantly dislike him. But another encounter eventually changes your opinion.

PAIRING: Waitress Y/N x Artist/Tattoo Artist Harry

TROPES: Enemies to Lovers

MUST BE 18+ TO READ

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

STORY PAGE

“Hey, gorgeous! How are you? I’ve been so worried about you!” John exclaimed enthusiastically into the phone.

“I’m pretty good, actually. How are things at Zelda’s?” While you didn’t necessarily want to know the answer, you’d always considered John a friend and knew he had your back. Which was why you decided to give him a call.

“Oh girl, things have changed dramatically since you left!”

“Really?”

“Yes! We got a new manager. His name is Rafael, but we’re allowed to call him Rafi. He’s a dish and a half, let me tell you! Not like that last asshole.”

You chuckled. “Good, I’m glad for you.”

“Yeah, sucks for you though! If only you could have stayed. Hey, want me to put a good in for you with Rafi?”

“Um…no, that’s okay, John. I’m kind of happy where I am.”

“Seriously? Where’s that?”

You told your friend about working at the cafe. Then proceeded to tell him how Harry got you the job.

“To make a long story short,” you said, trying to do just that, “he’s not the jerk he appeared to be. And…well…now we’re dating.”

“Hold up! Stop right there. Rewind! I need to hear everything, Y/N! EVERYTHING!”

You laughed at the way John enunciated every syllable. And you’d expected as much. For the next hour, you went into every detail with him like he requested (at least as much as you were willing to divulge), and by the time you finished, it was time to get ready for your date with Harry.

“Oh my God, girl, that’s so crazy!” squealed John. “But I’m happy for you. If you’re happy.”

“I am.”

“Good. Just don’t forget about me, okay? Pop in some time, maybe with Handsome.”

“I will,” you promised.

After pulling on a pair of jeans and a stylish top, you brushed your hair and touched up your makeup. You were meeting Harry at his place, where he was making you dinner again, and then you were going to a movie. It seemed to be the first Saturday you were both off since you’d met. And you were looking forward to having a normal, mundane date night.

The last couple weeks had been both hectic and amazing. Since that evening at the gallery, Harry had been extremely busy finishing up his moon series paintings. Donovan McNulty had still been showing interest in Harry’s art, and specifically voiced that he wanted to know the minute his newest pieces would be available. And you’d been picking up extra shifts at the diner to make a little extra money. But any moment you were both free had been spent together. You took turns, rotating your visits at each others’ apartments. You enjoyed leaning against his kitchen counter while you watched him cook, and Harry enjoyed teasing Shae when she was around, and nibbling on the soft spot behind your ear as you watched TV when she wasn’t there - and sometimes when she was.

Your feelings for him were growing daily, and while you told yourself it was still too soon to have such feelings, you used your free time away from him to write them down. You expressed every emotion from the way your heart skipped when you’d see him sitting in his usual chair at the cafe, to the way your body ached for him as you laid in your bed staring at the ceiling. You even included the way it had felt when you’d seen Nicolette at the cafe and at the gallery, even though Harry assured you tenfold that he had broken off all contact with her. You didn’t want to be jealous of his ex. You knew deep down that it would not bode well if you were going to take this relationship to the next level. And you definitely wanted to.

Harry greeted you with a smile as he opened the door, a glass of wine already in his hand waiting for you. When you stepped inside, you gave him a quick kiss before accepting the glass and taking a sip.

“Mmm, something smells yummy!,” you commented, turning for the kitchen.

“Chicken Piccata with roasted radicchio and sweet potatoes,” Harry announced proudly as he followed you. “It’s almost ready.”

“Chef Styles, when are you opening your own restaurant? This is way too impressive for just me.”

“You’re the only one I care to impress,” he said, pushing your hair from your neck to softly brush his lips across your tender flesh.

You reached behind you for his hands, bringing his arms around your waist. He hummed against your skin as he gave you a squeeze. The timer on the oven sounded then with a friendly chime, and Harry hesitantly released you in order to remove its contents. Watching him serve up the meal, you joined him at the table with your wine.

“I have some news,” he announced after you’d taken your first bite and raved about its deliciousness.

“Oh? What is it?” you asked enthusiastically.

“I’m having another gallery showing. For the moon series.” Harry stabbed his fork into his chicken before lifting his eyes to you.

“Are you kidding? That was quick!”

“Well, yeah,” he grinned. “I brought them yesterday for Sherrod to see. Apparently he phoned McNulty, gave him some rubbish about how brilliant they are, and he’s flying down Thursday to see for himself.”

Quickly dismissing the fact that he’d degraded his own art, because you knew he didn’t really think it was rubbish, you focused on the positive.

“Oh my God, Harry! That’s wonderful! I’m really proud of you.”

“I know, babe. And I appreciate all the support you’ve given me. You'll never know how much.”

“I have an idea,” you jested. “You spoil me with this delicious food.”

“That’s just because I can,” he winked. “And because I want to. It’s not a payment.”

“Good to know,” you said before popping a bite of sweet potato in your mouth.

“I would like your help with something, though.”

“Sure, anything.”

“Could you help spread the word about the exhibit?” Harry requested. “Maybe invite some friends? The more the better. The cocktail party was nice, but I’d like it to be a massive event.”

“Ooh, yes! I’d love to!”

Rising from your chair, you reached over the table to plant a kiss on Harry’s lips, to which he happily accepted.

“When would you like to get your tattoo?” Harry asked as you laid twisted in the sheets, his bare thigh crossed over yours, his fingertips tracing nonexistent lines down your arm.

You turned your head to the side to look at him. If it was possible, he appeared even more beautiful than ever, his eyelids heavy, his pillowy lips swollen, his scruffy jaw threatening to produce more facial hair now that the morning was nigh. The evening of lovemaking had been blissful, Harry having brought you to orgasm not once, not twice…but three times. And while you worried you’d never walk again, the man beside you looked completely fucked.

You couldn’t help but be elated by the knowledge that you’d made that happen.

“I’m not sure yet,” you whispered, reaching for his stubbly chin. “Soon, I guess.”

You felt Harry breathe out of his nose, and while he tried to hide it, you could detect the frown on his lips.

“Do you not want it?” he inquired after a beat.

“I…no, I do,” you nodded.

“‘Cause you don’t have to get it,” Harry added. “The one I designed, or any other one. If you don’t want a tattoo, it’s fine. I’ll understand.”

“No, I want one.”

Harry continued to draw his finger down your arm. You could tell the conversation wasn’t over, but you were unsure what else to say. So you let Harry gather his thoughts instead. Finally he sighed, his gaze returning to your face.

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“What for?” you asked.

“If I made you uncomfortable. It just dawned on me that I might have been a bit presumptuous with the tattoo. I know they can be very personal, and I…I should have just let you pick what you want.”

Blinking, you rolled over onto your side to face him. “Harry, no. That’s not it at all. I love the one you designed. I told you I loved that painting.”

“Then what is it?” Harry lifted a hand to brush your hair from your face, twisting the end of the strands between his fingers. “Any time I bring it up, you kind of hesitate or change the subject.”

“I…I didn’t realize,” you looked down at his chest. “I apologize.”

“Baby, look at me,” he insisted, urging your chin up. “Talk to me. Are you af-”

You stopped him mid-sentence with your finger on his lips. As you shook your head, Harry chuckled. Then tugging on your wrist, he released your hand from his mouth.

“You don’t even know what I was gonna say,” he remarked.

“Just don’t use that word.”

“Alright,” he softened his expression, returning his fingers to your hair. “Am I moving too fast for you? Is that it?”

You gulped and sucked in your lips. Then you let out a nervous chuckle of your own. “It seems ridiculous to admit that after what we just did.”

“Not really,” Harry shook his head. “Sex can be separate from feelings. Although…I’m going to confess right now…for me…it’s not. Not with you.”

“Harry…” you breathed.

“Babe…” he murmured, pulling you closer. “I reckon I’ve conveyed my feelings for you already…at least a little bit. But if you need me to back off…I will.”

You stared at him, this gorgeous man. You couldn’t believe in just a few weeks you’d gone from hating him to…whatever this was.

“No,” you argued. “I don’t want you to.”

“No?”

“No, because…I’m feeling…things too.”

Harry’s voluptuous mouth curved into a sexy grin. You felt his hand on your back, his fingers dancing up your flesh.

“I’m just…a little hesitant, I guess,” you added, “about getting the tattoo…because it’s such an intimate thing to do, you know? To get ink on my skin of something you gave me, art you designed for me. And it’s…forever.”

Harry blinked slowly with a nod. “I completely understand, love. I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

“You didn’t. It’s just me. Like you said, it’s personal. And I would feel horrible if something happened between us, and-”

“Shh, baby…” Harry interrupted you this time. “It’s okay. I get it. Take all the time you need.”

You gave him a gentle smile before he pulled you into a deep kiss. Your eyelids heavy, and sleep threatening to take over, you tugged on the sheets. Getting the hint, Harry grinned, situating the covers over you before reaching for the lamp.

“Goodnight, baby,” he whispered. “Sweet dreams.”

You hummed in agreement as he held you against his warm body, and before you could even think any more about tattoos, you were sound asleep in his arms.

The rest of Sunday and most of Monday was spent making phone calls. You promised Harry a grand party, and you were determined to deliver. After telling Shae your plan, she was more than happy to come through by offering to tell her coworkers as well as some of your mutual friends. You called John to let him know as well, and he said he was already going to ask for the night off, and maybe even bring Rafi with him…if he was available, as he put it. You also called the gallery Monday morning, unbeknownst to Harry, to speak with Sherrod yourself. He told you how excited he was for Harry’s new exhibit, which put your mind at ease a bit.

“I really want this to be special for him,” you explained. “Is there anything I can do to help? To get the word out? More advertising? Do I need to hire a caterer or something?”

“Don’t you worry about a thing, darling,” assured Sherrod. “I’m already having my secretary making contacts as we speak. And I personally phoned my caterer on Friday.”

“Oh, fantastic,” you said. “The more people we can get to come, the better. There’s just one thing…”

“Don’t worry about that either, my pet. You have my word Miss Waters will not get an invite.”

“Ohh. For some reason I thought…” you chuckled nervously. “I don’t know how art galleries work, forgive me.”

Sherrod laughed heartily through the phone, catching you off guard. “Nothing to forgive, darling. Harry and I have already spoken about this as well.”

You breathed through your nose. Of course they had.

“Thank you, Sherrod. I appreciate everything.”

“It’s going to be a splendid night, you can be sure!”

Hanging up, you felt a heavy weight lift off your chest. It was quickly replaced with a glittery excitement. You couldn’t wait.

When you arrived for your mid-day shift at the cafe, you made a beeline for Jill who was making a cold brew for a customer. The look on her face when you told her the news about Harry’s exhibit was priceless.

“Of course I’ll be there!” she squealed. “Are you kidding me?”

“Bring some friends too, okay? I want to show him all the support we can give.”

That night, you sat in front of the TV writing in your journal. You soon found yourself mindlessly doodling in the corners of the page. Harry was at work, and you didn’t want to bother him. Yet you couldn’t stop thinking about him. He truly had been the only thing on your mind all day.

“Pppfff, more like for the last month,” you admitted out loud.

Tossing your notebook to the side, you leaned back on the couch and ran your fingers through your hair, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Jesus Christ, what am I doing?”

Getting up from the sofa, you slipped on your shoes, not bothering to change out of your lounge-at-home outfit - a dark green tunic and black leggings. The only effort you made was to brush your teeth and touch up your lip gloss before heading out the door.

The neon sign in the window seemed to glow brighter than you remembered, an enticing greeting to lure you in. Not that you hadn’t already planned to go inside.

Swinging the door open, you noticed an empty waiting area and counter. Smooth, instrumental jazz played through the speakers as you peeked your head through the doorway to scan the tattoo stations, but still saw no one. You were just about to walk through the shop to Harry’s office when you saw Kyle emerge.

“Oh, hey,” he grinned. “You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yes,” you nodded, happy that he knew. Surely he didn’t remember you from the last time he’d seen you in the shop, but perhaps Harry had told him about you and he put two and two together. The idea made you blush a little.

“Harry’s in the back. I’ll go get him for you.”

Before you could retort, Kyle disappeared through the doorway from which he’d just appeared. And within seconds, your handsome, cheery boyfriend replaced him.

“Hi, babe!” he beamed. “What are you doing here?”

You shrugged, shyly. “Came to get my tattoo.”

His eyes widening, Harry stepped closer to you. “Really? Are you sure?”

Licking your lips, you nodded. “Positive.”

His dimples on full display, Harry pulled you into an embrace. You could feel his heart beating in his chest as he whispered in your ear. “I’m so happy.”

Then stepping back, Harry gestured toward his station. “Go ahead and have a seat. I’ll get everything ready and tell Kyle he can go home.”

“Oh!” you mouthed, surprised. Harry disappeared into the back room again before you could argue.

Situating yourself in Harry’s chair, you gazed at the art on display around his station as well as photos of various clients’ tats. While a few pieces looked to be fairly common, most of them were exquisite, no doubt one-of-a-kind works of art. You were staring at a large dragon piece on someone’s back when you heard a voice behind you.

“Bye, Y/N,” Kyle called. “Have a nice night.”

“Oh, thanks. Same to you,” you waved just as Harry walked up.

“You didn’t have to make him leave,” you said under your breath. “You’re not closed yet, are you?”

“I am now,” Harry wiggled his brows before walking to the front door and locking it, turning the OPEN sign to the CLOSED side.

With pursed lips, you tried to hold back a smirk as Harry returned, his own smirk tugging on his mouth.

“Slow night?” you inquired when he sat down on his stool.

“You would not believe. That’s why we were in my office. Kyle helps me with my website.”

You hummed in acknowledgement as you watched Harry get his tray ready just like he had the day you’d brought Shae. That already felt like a lifetime ago.

“You always surprise me with your music choices,” you commented as you listened to the soft jazz.

Harry chuckled with a nod. “This is my focus, slash wind-down music. Since it was slow, I switched it from grunge whilst we worked on the website.”

“I like it,” you grinned.

Harry gazed up at you from under his lashes before his eyes roamed down your body. You felt a tingle as his gaze made its way back up to your face.

“What?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“Was just recalling the last time you were sat in this chair.”

“Oh my God, Harry,” you blushed. “Please tell me you sanitized it!”

His eyes squinting as he giggled, Harry scooted closer to you. “You’re too much, babe.”

“Why, because I like cleanliness?”

“No, because that’s your first thought. It certainly wasn’t mine.”

You stared into his jade eyes that were now inches from your face, the irises appearing to have a dark line around them.

“That was…um, some kind of night,” you murmured softly.

“Indeed, it was.” Harry’s hand landed just above your knee then before he slid it slowly up your thigh.

“Hmm,” you nodded. “Are you trying to seduce me again?”

Harry puffed out a chuckle. “No. Don’t reckon I had to try then either.”

Dragging your tongue across your teeth, you focused on his mouth and the way his hand felt on your leg. “Fair enough. What do you remember most about that night?”

“How sweet your pussy tasted on my tongue,” he quickly replied, as if he’d had his answer ready before you’d even asked the question. “And how you tugged on my hair and your thighs trembled as you called my name.”

“Harry…”

“Oh, it was much louder than that.”

You blushed again, but this time you didn’t bother hiding it. Leaning towards you, Harry placed a soft kiss on your lips. Followed by a second, and a third. By the fourth, your fingers were in his hair, his tongue in your mouth. You reveled in the sensation, urging him with your own. When a gentle moan escaped your chest, Harry’s hand that had been on your thigh made its way between your legs. You began to grind against him in your seat, knowing your leggings and panties were already soaked through. His other hand traveled underneath your t-shirt, and when his fingers met your bare skin, you gasped.

“Are you…,” you gulped, “planning to eat me out again on this chair?”

“No,” Harry shook his head, a devilish smirk on his face.

“Oh.”

“I have other things in mind,” he added, echoing the exact words he’d said to you that night before taking you home.

“Oh…”

Harry sat back on his stool and raised a brow. “I thought you wanted a tattoo, love.”

“Harry Styles! Are you teasing me?” you exclaimed.

Giggling with glee, you noticed his eyes dancing. “Maybe.”

“Rude!” you frowned, tugging your shirt down. Your pussy still throbbing from his hand, you pouted.

“I’m sorry, baby. It’s my fault. Seeing you in this chair…it turned me on, and I got carried away. I do want to play. But I think we should get started on this tattoo, don’t you? It’s gonna take a bit.”

You nodded with a sigh. “Okay.”

Harry gave you a peck on the nose and one on the lips. “Now, did you decide where you want it? The ink, I mean,” he smirked.

“So, I had considered getting it on my side, like down my hip. There’s plenty of room to make it big. But then I changed my mind.”

“Too much?” Harry asked.

“Nope. Not enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nobody’s gonna see it there. Except you. And while the idea is sexy, I’d rather have the art my boyfriend designed to be in a spot everyone could see.”

“Baby…” Harry breathed, his hand over his heart.

“I know, I’ve been hesitant about this,” you explained. “About us. But I have no clue why. We’ve spent all this time together. You’ve shown me time again that you’re interested in more than just…a fling. Every time I’m with you, I feel butterflies and moonbeams and…all the cheesy things.” You let out a nervous sigh as you looked down at your hands, then back up to his gorgeous face. “The truth is…I’m crazy about you, Harry.”

“Sweetheart,” he cried, pulling you into another kiss. Then leaning his forehead against yours he murmured, “You make me so happy.”

“Good,” you grinned, your right hand on his cheek as you held out your left. “That’s why I think we should put it right here, below my elbow, down the inside of my arm.”

“I think that would be lovely,” he agreed, misty-eyed. Then he kissed the inside of your wrist before rising from his stool. “Let me go get the stencil, and I’ll be right back.”

When he stepped away, you suddenly felt butterflies in your tummy, and not just from the notion of getting a tattoo. You’d almost told him more than you’d planned. The truth was, you weren’t just crazy about him. You were falling for him. Hard. Perhaps you had been falling bit by bit every day. And you were finally willing to admit it to yourself. But you weren’t quite sure yet if you were ready to say it to him. It still felt too soon. But you loved the look on his face when you’d revealed what you had. His delight gave you hope that perhaps he felt the same.

Harry returned with a big smile on his face. Placing the stencil next to him, he pulled on his gloves. Then reaching for the rubbing alcohol and a cotton pad, he eyed you.

“Still wanna do this?” he asked.

“Definitely,” you beamed.

Taking your arm, he gently rubbed the soaked cotton pad down your arm, from the elbow to your wrist. Then he took a new disposable razor and gently shaved the area, just like you’d seen him do on Shae, back when you still hated him. The idea brought a sour taste to your mouth.

“You okay?” he asked again.

“Yeah, sorry. Was just…thinking.”

“About?” Harry raised a brow.

“How far we’ve come in just a short time.”

Harry’s face softened. “I think about that a lot.”

“You do?”

��I thank my lucky stars every fucking day that you forgave me. That you were able to see the real me and change your mind. I only wish…”

“What?” you asked.

His gaze seemed to burn into you as he looked deep into your eyes. “I wish we had met some other way. Like some random day at the cafe, or maybe here when you’d come with Shae. Or maybe even at Zelda’s on a night I was alone. Some other way that you could have met the real me instead of that prick I pretended to be.”

You sat in silence as you absorbed Harry’s words and watched him place the thermal paper on your arm with the stencil. When he peeled it off was when you spoke.

“What would you have said?”

“When?”

“If we had met in a different situation. What would you have said to me?”

“In which scenario?” he smirked.

“Let’s go with the first one. Obviously I wouldn’t be working at the cafe. But let’s say I came in one day that you were sitting there working on your iPad.”

Harry chuckled loudly, catching you off guard. “Well, I can’t really say for sure, can I? There are other factors involved.”

“Alright,” you agreed. “But you said you’ve thought about it. What happens in your…wish?”

You swore you caught a tiny bit of color in his cheeks as Harry pulled his tray closer to him. “We have to get serious now, babe. I’m about to stick a needle in your arm.”

You puffed out a breath in humor, then sat up straight in your chair. “Fine. Mark me.”

Harry’s nostrils flared as he chuckled at your joke. Then he made a few adjustments to his tattoo gun before getting to work. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as bad as you thought it would. You watched as Harry traced the stencil, starting with the dripping moon at the top. After every stroke, he would wipe your skin. He seemed so focused, so gentle. You stared at his face for a little while, and every time he’d bite his lower lip, it sent your heart all aflutter. When he finished the outline, he looked up at you.

“Still doing okay?”

“Mmhmm,” you nodded.

He gave you a smile before returning his focus to your arm. You were both quiet for a moment until he spoke again.

“I probably would have stared at you for a bit.”

“Huh?”

“At the cafe. If you had been sat near me at a table by yourself. I would have kept sneaking glances at you, but making sure you didn’t notice.”

“Well then, how am I supposed-”

“At first,” he interrupted. “Then I would have wanted you to notice. When we finally made eye contact, I’d have smiled at you.”

Lifting his head, Harry gave you just the smile he was referring to. And your insides ignited.

“I would say that’s very cheesy and cliche, but it’s not. I like it.”

“So what would you have done if I’d come over to your table and asked you your name?”

“I would have told you, and hoped to God you’d ask me for my number too.”

“Alright then,” Harry snickered. “That’s one scenario. But it didn’t happen.”

“It’s fine, Harry,” you said. “Something else happened instead. And we’re here anyway.”

“Yes, we are.”

You watched Harry continue on the tattoo, the moon starting to look realistic with the shading. As always you were in awe of him and his talent. Just like when you would watch him work at the cafe, you found yourself completely mesmerized. It was utterly sexy to you, from the way he focused on his project at hand, to the curls that framed his face and neck, and even down to the way his own tattooed arms flexed as he worked. As you studied him you let out a deep breath, feeling the wetness pooling in your panties again.

“Still okay?” Harry suddenly asked with a tiny smirk, as if he’d noticed.

“I’m wonderful,” you answered dreamily.

“You need to move your elbow a little?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure,” you nodded as Harry sat back to let you. Your arm had been in one position for a while, and you were starting to feel the effects.

“Okay, I’m good,” you commented as you reached your arm out again. “Tell me about your next project. What are you working on?”

“Just a second,” Harry muttered. As he scooted closer again, you wondered what he was doing until he beckoned you with his gloved hand. “Kiss me.”

You grinned widely before you happily obliged, giving him a few more kisses than he’d asked for just for good measure.

“Mmm, thanks babe. It’s hard to be around you for this long without touching your lips.”

“You’re welcome. And you’re the sweetest.”

With a wink, Harry returned to his task, this time moving onto the shading of the heart. “I actually haven’t started anything new yet,” he replied to your previous inquiry. “With the moon series now at the gallery, I’ve kind of been trying to finish up some older pieces.”

“Oh? I didn’t know you had anything that was incomplete.”

“Yeah. You saw the citiscape one, right?”

“Yes, that was gorgeous! That wasn’t finished?”

“Not yet. I keep feeling like there’s something missing, but…I dunno. I’m also not sure if I want it to be a series or a stand alone piece.”

“Well, whatever you decide, I know it’ll be amazing. As always,” you offered emphatically.

“Thanks, babe. This is why…” he left his thought unfinished as his tattoo gun rounded the edges of the heart.

“Why what?”

Harry lifted his head, giving you an easy grin. “Why you’re a wonderful lady.”

You watched Harry finish the heart on the tat while you thought your own heart could burst. You thought he was going to say it for a second, but you understood why he hadn’t. It seemed like such a mundane moment to express those three words.

Changing the subject, Harry chatted with you lightly about the upcoming exhibit, about the cafe, about food. You told him about your pal John, and how he was planning to come as well as Jill and Shae.

“Thanks again for doing this for me, babe,” he grinned. “I truly appreciate you.”

“Of course, Harry. I honestly think I’d do just about anything for you.”

Raising his eyebrows, Harry gave you a sexy look before quickly looking back down at your arm. “I think we’re done, babe.”

“Oh. Oh!” You tore your eyes from his to gaze down at your new tattoo. It was extraordinary to say the least.

“It’s…so beautiful, Harry,” you choked. “I love it!”

“It’s yours,” he commented. “And only yours.”

Your eyes began to well up with tears, making your vision too blurry to even see it. But you knew he was right. You had a one-of-a-kind Harry Styles work of art on your arm. And you couldn’t be more proud.

“C’mere, you can look in the mirror,” Harry beckoned, gesturing to the mirror behind him on the wall.

Standing in front of it, you wiped your eyes with your fingers until Harry handed you a tissue.

“Don’t cry, love,” he cooed. “You’ll make me think you made a mistake.”

“Of course not, silly man.” You stretched your arm down to look at the full length of the ink on your skin. “No mistakes here.”

“I’m glad,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chest on your shoulder as you took in the image of you both in the mirror. Grabbing his phone, Harry then took a couple of quick photos of your arm. “Let’s go ahead and put a covering on that so it won’t get infected.”

“Oh, how long do I have to do that? I wanna be able to show it off this weekend.”

Harry smirked at your pout. “Just a few days. You should be okay by then.”

Once again, you sat in his chair while he applied the dressing and bandage. Then he explained to you the aftercare, which made you giddy. You knew it was his job, but you enjoyed seeing him being professional.

“I’ll give you some information to take home with you as well,” he added as he removed his gloves, “but right now, I really need to touch you.”

You opened your mouth, but before you could make a syllable, Harry slid his hands under your jaw and pulled you into a warm kiss. He soon deepened it, his tongue invading your mouth as his hands traveled around your neck to your hair. When he finally released you enough to take a breath, you gasped.

“Wow.”

“Uh huh,” he voiced so low that you barely heard it. Then he licked his lips before sliding his hand up your thigh like before. “Exactly.”

You stared at Harry, his eyes darkening as he fingers began to tease you between your legs.

“So, what…mmm,” you swallowed at the sensation, “what other things did you have in mind?”

“Oh, you really wanna know?” he quirked a brow.

“Mmhmm. Yes, please.”

“Hmm, you ask so politely. But I might wanna keep teasing you like this. Make your legs tremble until you can’t stand it anymore. Until you’re begging for me to make you come.”

“Mmm,” you moaned again as he applied more pressure with his thumb, his hand cupping you, still over your clothes. “I don’t think I would be opposed to that.”

“No? You like being teased?”

“I like the way you tease,” you replied, breathy.

A low chuckle rose from his throat, and you felt the vibration as his face was just inches from yours. Then he surprised you by rising from his chair, his hand leaving your throbbing core to tug on the bottom of your t-shirt.

“Off, sweetheart,” he demanded.

You lifted your arms for him to remove your top, careful of your freshly tattooed area. You nearly came unglued at the sight of him biting his bottom lip.

“Sorry I don’t have on fancy undies,” you said, looking down at your cotton bralette.

“Are you kidding?” he snorted before he helped you remove that garment as well, his hands quickly palming your bare breasts.

You closed your eyes, reveling in the pleasure of his calloused thumbs skimming across your perky buds. He was so light and gentle with his touch, that you almost pouted, but you knew this was his intention. To drive you crazy.

He kissed you again, his hands still on you until he backed away suddenly. You opened your eyes to see him removing his own shirt, his tattooed torso on display. Your mouth watered instantly, an automatic reaction now.

You and Harry had good sex. There was no denying it. Not that you liked to compare, but Harry was the best in bed. He already knew what you liked, what buttons to press and which ones not to (not that there were many). But the best thing about the sexual part of your relationship was that it was never boring. Even when it was just quick fucking, it was amazing. Even when it was sweet, sleepy sex, you were left satisfied.

So Harry implying - albeit obviously - that he wanted to fuck you on that tattoo chair was no surprise. But the thrill was still as strong as ever. Everything he did excited you. Jesus, just looking at him sent a bolt of electricity down to your cunt, making you squeeze your muscles together.

Letting out a breath, you reached for his belt, pulling it from the loop and releasing it. He gave you another smirk as you tugged on his jeans with your non-tattooed arm, frustrated when the button wouldn’t come loose.

“Let me help, baby,” he growled, keeping your hand in position as he covered it with his own hand and helped you pull. The button popped open, the zipper separating along with it as your tug was determined. Then Harry assisted you further, his hand guiding yours down the front of his pants.

“As if you had to help me with that,” you scoffed with a grin.

“Maybe I wanted some help,” Harry eyed you.

“I don’t think that’s necessary either, big boy.”

His sexy low chuckle vibrated through your hand while you found you were a hundred percent correct. Standing from the chair, you pulled him from the confines of his jeans, the pink, bulbous head of his hard cock greeting you.

“Mmm,” you sounded. “Maybe I could help a little.”

You released his erection for just a moment to run your hands down his chest, your fingernails raking over his pecs and the light dusting of chest hair around his nipples. But it didn’t take long for Harry to reach for your tits again, squeezing them in his hands.

“Wait…I thought I was supposed to be teasing you,” he groaned.

“So you don’t want your cock in my mouth?” you teased back.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “Fuck, babe, I don’t know anymore. You’re so hot. I’m so turned on.”

“I can see that,” you grinned, wrapping your palm around his cock again. Before he could protest, you fell to your knees.

“Babe…” you heard as you barely licked the tip.

“Just let me, Harry. Please? I’m begging,” you looked up at him with puppy dog eyes, batting your lashes.

Letting out a breathy chuckle, Harry gave you permission with a nod and heavy eyelids. You took your time, wetting the head first, then slowly dragging your tongue underneath his length, from the base to the tip. Then licking your lips, you wrapped them around his hard cock, giving a generous amount of suction.

You heard his heavy breathing get louder and faster as you steadied yourself with your other hand on his hip. His own hands were everywhere at first, starting in your hair, then trying to paw at your breasts, then finally settling back on your head, gently urging and guiding you.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good at this.”

You’d never considered yourself a pro at giving head. You couldn’t even take all of him, for fear of choking. But he didn’t seem to mind. Your mouth and tongue along with your hand seemed to do the trick. After a few more swirls of your tongue, you allowed your other hand to reach underneath, grabbing his balls. He moaned loudly, another expletive rising from his chest.

“Baby. Baby, baby, stop. I don’t wanna come yet.”

Popping off of him, you smiled up at him, saliva dripping from your chin. You enjoyed pleasuring him, but you were excited to move on to phase two. With another low groan, Harry ran his thumb across your chin, guiding you back up to your feet.

“Y/N. I need to be inside you. Now.”

“Aw, you mean I don’t have to beg?”

Harry didn’t bother replying with words. Instead, he pulled down your leggings with fervor, your panties clinging to them so they slipped down together, pooling around your ankles just like Harry’s jeans.

“Turn around, sweetheart,” he patted your hip while wiggling his brows.

More electricity surging through you, you happily did as you were told, bending over the tattoo chair. You felt Harry run his hands down your ass before grabbing your hip and situating himself at your entrance. He slid in slowly at first, like he always did in order to get adjusted. But as soon as he let out a gasp that echoed your own, you knew it wouldn’t be long before he started to move faster.

Harder. His fingers dug into your flesh as he pounded into you. You bit your lip at first, then thought it silly since you were alone. As you began to moan, so did Harry. The sounds intertwined with the sexy, slow jazz were intoxicating. And when Harry bent over to grab your hair and talk in your ear, you thought you might come.

“Pussy’s so good, baby. Been thinking about it all day. Always so wet for me.”

“Mmmm,” was all you could manage.

“You like me fucking you like this?”

“Yes!”

“You like my hard cock pounding into you, my balls slamming against your wet pussy?”

“God, yes!”

“Yeah. It’s mine, innit? Your gorgeous cunt is all mine.”

“Mmhm.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s all yours, Harry. I’m all yours.”

Moaning in your ear, Harry slowed down. You wondered for a moment what was happening as you knew he hadn’t come yet. Then you felt a chill on your back as he stood up, his hands at your hips.

“Let’s get these off the rest of the way,” he said with heavy breaths, indicating your pants.

Blinking, you wiped your eyes and toed off your shoes, stepping out of the leggings as you watched Harry do the same with his jeans.

“Sorry, babe, for the interlude,” his voice cracked. “I wanna try something else.”

“Okay.”

You watched as he readjusted the chair to lay flat. Then he laid down on it.

“C’mere, babe,” he beckoned. “Climb on top of me.”

You shifted your eyes nervously. “Are you sure we won’t break it?”

“Only one way to find out,” he smirked.

Sucking in your lips, you climbed on with Harry’s assistance. You giggled at the awkwardness of it all as you straddled him.

“Just a second, honey,” he said when you were about to aim his cock. “Let me look at you.”

You glared at him, once again wondering what was going through his head. He acted as if he’d never looked at you before. But as you smiled down at him, his own lips grew into his dimpled grin, making you warm all over. He brushed your hair from your face, his thumb grazing across your cheek.

“You’re like an angel,” he murmured. “You take my breath away.”

“Harry…” you exhaled.

“I’m all yours too, honey.”

You beamed at him, knowing it was a reply to your previous admission. Then lifting yourself onto your knees, you looked into his eyes as you sank down onto his cock. You hissed as he closed his eyes, both of you already sensitive.

You rode him with determination, needing to chase the release. After bouncing on him a few times, Harry took your left hand and held it to his chest, making sure you didn’t put too much pressure on that arm. You giggled awkwardly as you tried to keep your balance, but your boyfriend was good at helping.

As you started to reach your high, the burn imminent both in your thighs and your core, you began to cry out.

“Harry….it’s so good, baby…oh, God…Harryyyyy.”

Bucking his hips against you, his hands both now on your own hips, he stared you in the eyes.

“I know, honey. Tell me.”

“Mmmmm…I’m all yours, Harry,” you bit your lip, throwing your head back.

“Y/N. Look at me.”

Blinking, you gazed down at him, his gorgeous face flushed. He groaned in pleasure before wrapping his arms around you.

“Tell me, baby. I wanna hear you say it.”

“What?”

“Tell me you love me.”

Your eyes widening, you stared at him in…no, not disbelief. Because you absolutely believed it.

“I know you feel it, baby. Just like I do. Tell me. Please.”

You’d slowed down your hips, Harry having paused his thrusts. But as you began to resume, moving faster, his gorgeous mouth hanging open, you nodded.

“I love you, Harry.”

His lips twitched before he licked them, then pulled you to him for a kiss.

“I love you, too, Y/N.”

A tiny giggle escaped your throat as realization kicked in. You were in love. And all his.

You rode Harry to the finish, reaching orgasm just before he cried out those three words again. He kissed you deeply, his tongue letting you know how pleased he was. His head falling back, his eyes closed in complete bliss, the biggest, dopiest grin on his face.

“Say it again, babe.”

You kissed his salty chest and neck, then gnawed on his stubbly chin.

“I love you,” you sang softly before kissing his lips.

“And I love you,” he echoed while your face hovered over his, your hair surrounding you both like a secret garden. “So much.”

Chatter filled the room and your ears as you suddenly heard the clink of a fork against glass.

"Ladies and gentlemen! A toast! To our man of the evening!" announced Sherrod. Harry turned to him with a bashful grin. "It has been my utmost pleasure to host this soiree for such an incredible artist. He is a viable part of this community, and I know you all join me in congratulating him at completing another remarkable series. To Harry Styles!"

As everyone clapped and cheered, raising their glasses, you heard Stan shout, "Hear, hear!"

Smiling at your boss, whom you had been thrilled to see arrive with his wife, you watched him make a taste of his own.

"Harry, my son, I've watched you sit at that same table in my cafe for over a year, doodling on your notepads and…thingamajig…" he gestured, making the guests chuckle. "To be honest, I didn't understand why my coffee shop, or why that table…or why only flat white lattes…" more laughs erupted as he patted Harry on the shoulder. "But I knew you had talent. And ambition. I'm proud of you, son. And I'm proud to say I knew you when."

"Hear, hear!" Sherrod and others cheered, raising their glasses again.

"Thank you, Stan. Thank you Sherrod," Harry choked. "This whole night means more to me than you'll ever know. All of you. I'm so humbled that each of you came tonight. This truly was special. I'll never forget it."

Harry's eyes met yours during his final words. Then as the chatter resumed, he stepped forward and pulled you into a long kiss.

"Alright you two," said Jill behind you. "Don't go find a room just yet. I need to take pictures."

You giggled as your friend held her phone up and you posed for several photos with Harry, including one where you were kissing him on the cheek. Satisfied with her shots, Jill squealed with joy and announced she had to take some more with her other friends next to Harry’s art.

A waiter came by then with more champagne, and you gladly took another glass, handing him your empty one.

“I’m so happy to see you having a good time,” beamed Harry, his arm still around you.

“I may have had a few too many of these,” you snickered, covering your mouth with your hand.

“No matter. We have that limo, thanks to you.”

“You can actually thank Shae. It was her idea.”

“Where is Shae, by the way?” Harry turned his head to search for your roommate. He spotted her next to the shrimp, talking to Kyle. His chest shook with laughter as he turned back to you.

“What?” you asked. “Kyle’s a nice guy, right?”

“Yeah. Too nice. She’s probably giving him an earful, and I’ll have to hear about it later.”

You playfully slapped his arm in your friend’s defense, though you knew he was right.

“Good idea, by the way, showing off your tattoo right away. I already have some clients lined up.”

“That’s awesome!” you cheered. You figured one of them was the nice lady you were talking to last time, since you saw her again soon after you’d arrived.

“Harry, my good man, congratulations!” another voice sounded. You both swiveled to see Carlo, his arm already stretched to give Harry a hug.

“Thank you so much for coming, Carlo.”

“Anything for you, my friend! Y/N, I don’t believe you’ve met my beautiful wife, Jossalyn.” Carlo gestured to the stunning tattooed brunette to his right.

You both gave each other salutations before Harry pulled her into a hug as well. Then they announced their exit and said their goodbyes.

“You have a lot of friends and admirers, Harry,” you commented.

He nodded. “Seems that way. I need to remember to count my blessings.”

You lifted your hand to his handsome face, and he covered it with his own, gently shutting his eyes.

“Y/N! We have to be going, guys!” John shouted, breaking your reverie.

“John, thank you so much for coming!” you told him as you squeezed him. “And for bringing Rafi.”

“Told you he’s a dish,” he whispered in your ear.

You nodded as you watched his partner shake hands with Harry, then you did the same. As soon as they left, Harry leaned into you.

“Rafael is interested in my art.”

“Your art, or something else?” you quirked a brow. “I saw how he looked at you earlier.”

Harry cackled. “I promise it was strictly a professional conversation. But if it makes you feel any better, I’ll remind him I’m taken.”

As he slid his arm back around your waist, you shook your head as you smiled up at him. “I was teasing you. I wouldn’t blame anyone in this room for wanting a piece of you…professionally or otherwise. But I appreciate the sentiment. Also, I trust you.”

“Yeah? I’m glad, baby.”

Harry brought his hand up to slide under your jaw, and he was just about to kiss you when the other man of the hour interrupted.

“Harry, lad, I have an early flight in the morning, so I must bid farewell,” said Donovan McNulty. This evening he wore a black suit with a red bowtie. You smiled at him, holding out your hand.

“Mr. Nulty, thank you so much for coming. You’ve made Harry so happy.”

Donovan leaned in and kissed your cheek, then the other. “My dear, I reckon it’s the other way around. Besides, it looks like he’s found his happiness right here, with his muse.”

He gave you a wink as he squeezed your tattooed arm before shaking Harry’s hand and waving goodbye.

The party continued for another hour or so. You and Harry both gave a lot more thank yous and farewells. Then when no other guests remained (Harry insisted on seeing everyone out to show his appreciation), Sherrod finally shooed you out to the limo.

“Thanks for helping with everything, sweetheart,” cooed Harry as he necked you in the back of the car.

“I didn’t do much,” you conveyed. ���Sherrod set up most of it.”

“No, you did more than you know. I love and appreciate you.”

“Same here, handsome,” you grinned before caressing his soft lips. “By the way, I have something to show you when we get to your place.”

“Yeah? Is it under your dress?”

You giggled as his hand wandered under the flimsy fabric of the new dress you’d purchased just for this occasion.

“No,” you playfully tugged at his wrist. “It’s something I left there while we were getting ready. It’s in your nightstand.”

“Handcuffs?”

“No! Harry Styles, I’m trying to be romantic and open, and you’re being naughty.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, babe. I can’t help it. It’s just where my mind went.”

“It’s okay,” you tutted.

“What is it?”

“You’ll see.”

Harry held your hand as he walked you to his apartment. The glow of the moon shone through the balcony doors, punctuating the end of the moon-themed evening like a full stop. Although you weren’t ready for it to end just yet.

You laid your clutch bag on the counter next to his keys and wallet before he pulled you in for yet another kiss. Throwing your arms around his neck, you let his tongue tangle with yours, tasting the champagne you’d both consumed. Then he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you into the bedroom.

“Are you gonna show me now?” he asked between kisses after he laid you down.

You simply nodded, then reached for the bedside table, opening the top drawer. You retrieved a small notebook, the one you’d been writing in. Opening it, you flipped to the page you wanted to show him. When you handed it to him, he looked at you inquisitively.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Remember when you asked me if I had a hobby, something that I was passionate about? And I mentioned I used to write?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You inspired me.”

With an easy grin, Harry sat back on the pillows, crossing his ankles. You sat next to him, your legs tucked underneath you as you bit your bottom lip nervously.

Brilliant, blazing, glistening, glittering

The celestial satellite shines by the light reflected from the sun

Its beautiful mystery soothingly captivates us

All aglow, seemingly from within

Feminine energy that affects the rise and fall of the tides

A big balloon, luminous and serene

These are words used to describe the moon

But they are also words to describe my heart

For my heart is now a big balloon

All aglow and alight from within

From the light of your heart, the sun

Brilliant, blazing, beautiful

Wondrous and astral, my heart is now home

Lowering the notebook after reading your poem, Harry looked at you.

“It’s kinda short,” you offered with a hesitant chuckle. “But it took me forever.”

“Baby,” he said, scooting closer to you and reaching for you. “This is beautiful.”

“Really?” you crinkled your nose, still not completely confident.

“Yes, baby, really. I love it. I love you.”

Your expression softened, easing into a smile. Harry pulled you to his chest, brushing your hair back from your face.

“Thank you for writing it, but even more, for sharing it with me.”

“I figured I should, since you share so much with me.”

“That’s what I mean, love. Not only did you share your heart with me, but you put it into words on paper. It’s stunning. I’m…”

His hands still in your hair, he paused his words.

“What?” you asked as you saw a tiny tear escape from the corner of his eye and down his cheek. “Harry…”

“Can’t help it, baby,” he choked as you wiped the tear. “I’ve fallen so hard for you.”

“Me too,” you whispered.

“Tell me again, Y/N.”

“I love you…” you said, his lips capturing yours once again before you could say his name.

You didn’t mind that he asked you to say those words. In fact, you liked it. You would tattoo it on your heart if you could.

THE END

And there we have it :). Please like, comment and consider following me if you enjoyed it! Feedback is love x.

[ieatangstforbreakfast]

Pairing ೃ⁀➷ Earth 42! Miles Morales x Fem! Reader

Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.

Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, eventual angst♡

Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.

Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ sorry for the delay, too busy girlbossing hehehe I made a closet for the reader, here’s the link || Her Closet

Chapter 3: To Dance For You, To Die For You

Warning ೃ⁀➷ Profane language, depression, family angst, plot progression, long ass chapter, reader lore, underaged smoking.

FIC MASTERLIST

Previous chapter || Next chapter

You || One hour ago

hey, u up already?

"… He sure is taking a while to answer."

You shut your phone with a click at the side, burying it down the sheets next to you.. "... I'm just gonna tell myself that he misses me so much, he can't put it to words."

You looked over to see the digital clock resting atop your nightstand, a bright 『 7:32 AM 』 gleaming right back at you.

… Maybe he’s still asleep.

It doesn’t take long before your attention drifts away from the subject. Unlike what Miles initially thought, you had priorities of your own. Sprawled before your table were books and notes you wrote all throughout your last lecture— neatly organized in pastels and glitters. You peered over the poorly written cursive, eyes cautiously and redundantly scouring through each word. Yet, despite the amount of time you've spent reading the paragraph, nothing at all entered your mind. That same suffocating scribble haunted you, and it sucked all the soul inside your body.

Saturday mornings.

Within the confines of your neat room, you still felt oddly and terribly exhausted. Which was ironic, as your routine was terrific as most would say. Ultimate Dream Girl was how your cousin put it. You woke up early, exercised, studied, ate good food, dressed in stylish clothes, went to school, and studied again after classes— and still, whenever you woke up every single day, you'd feel ultimately, and questionably exhausted.

It’s like you were sinking. Drowning even.

Yet you had to maintain your perfect, glamorous shell of a being. Even if it meant sleeping less these days.

But Miles took the boredom out of your humdrum life. Only he managed to tease out traits in you that even you didn't know existed— a bluntness paired with a foul mouth, and a sense of genuine lightness. He made you feel like your best self, and what was most ironic was the fact that your best self didn't have to be this talented, sophisticated, multi-achiever genius who managed to seamlessly shoulder adult matters— your best self just had to be happy.

And Miles made you genuinely, wholesomely, and incredibly happy.

Only Miles managed to eradicate the burden of carrying your family name. Around him, you were just you. A dumb, pretty teenager with a passion for art.

And that absolutely terrified you.

Peering over your books, spots of white shroud your vision. Like a feather, your head felt oddly light. You try to shake your head to refocus on the paragraph, only then you notice the blotches of red trailing down the page like splatters of paint.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Your fingers cascade over your nose, only then noticing the bloody mess running down your lip. You cuss, bolting off your seat to grab the tissue box sitting above the vanity.

“Miss?” One of the maids called out from outside your door.

You drag the sheets of tissue over your nose, muffling your voice as you answered. “What is it?”

“Your tango practice will start soon. Would you like me to prepare your clothes?”

“.. That would be nice, thank you.”

As her footsteps echoed away, you lull your head down, hand gripping onto the edge of your table. It gushed out like an open faucet, and this hammering in your head had you kneeling down to the floor.

“Oh my God, what is that?”

“Quickly, take a picture.”

“Get moving, people.”

The endless wails of the siren. Deafening, unyielding, and alarming. What was once the symbol of hope, was now all that silenced New York.

The lights of red and blue emanated through the streets like a ghost. Those who watched whispered among themselves, turning their heads from the glares of the officers who’d circled the establishment. Above the sign stood what was once the glory of Senator Barlowe’s billboard— now trashed with a chilling message spray-painted in bloody red.

『　ＮＥＶＥＲ　 ＦＯＲＧＩＶＥ．

ＮＥＶＥＲ　 ＦＯＲＧＥＴ．』

The police figured to take down the board, ushering the media and the people away. Though you can never truly silence the people, the people only learn to talk quietly. It’s how the world works, Miles thinks. You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you cannot fool all of the people all of the time.

His figure appears above the buildings like the menace all of upperclass society viewed him as— the emblem of his chest shining brighter at the bottom of the billboard. A shameless warning from the vigilante. A warning for the oppressive, a threat for a threat.

An eye for an eye. A life for a life.

Miles dreamt of it: losing you the same way he lost his father.

An image of you dying in his arms. The stain of your blood in his hands, and the touch of your body growing colder. As he held you close in that illusion, he felt your heart slowly easing to an inevitable stop. There, Miles knew he couldn’t bear the thought of losing another person to the wickedness of the system.

So he plotted.

The digitalized purple of his mask gleamed in the foggy morning, the fingers of his gauntlet gripping on the empty can of red paint in his palms, crushing it with a single gritty grasp. Miles looked at his masterpiece, the image of the man’s face all painted in red. He figured to beat the old thing up himself, had he had the chance— but New York won’t change from the decision of one vigilante. The people have to wake themselves up, to untie the blindfold of fear around their eyes.

Because once that fear fully unfolds, it’s never going to blind you again.

You || Five hours ago

hey, u up already?

Still no reply.

"From the top in three, two, one!" Marks the start of the bandoneon.

Emerging from the band, you approached the center with steady, elegant steps. Your heels clack against the wooden floors, the hem of your dress tickling your ankles. Your hands gently glide down your body along to the dramatic rhythms of the orchestra. Across the room stood your partner, reaching a hand out while circling your presence— as if to admire your entirety.

"Step, step, step. Spin!" The choreographer bellows. The boy reaches for your hand and spins you into his arms, dipping you down. Your fingers paint the floor with one swipe, head down to feign shyness. When you're brought back, your hand glazes down his cheek, stepping back with his arm wrapped around your waist.

"Keep your head high, shoulders back!"

In the passion of the tango, your grace was your skill— yet your indifference was your detriment.

Your hand steadily grips his shoulder, each step like a tease in average courtship. In the midst of the music, your head's riddled with a million thoughts. With each passing thought, your moves become harsher, and meaner.

Grip tighter, moves sadder.

With each pass of the violin, the knot in your mind tangles and tangles. While gawking into the stage light above, you shut your eyes tight to shield your view. And when your partner's fingers brush against the curve of your waist— you think of Miles.

The memory of his grip on you was forever ingrained in your mind. And when you turn around once more, suddenly, in your hazy mind, Miles stands before you, holding your hand above your head to ready you for a twirl.

In the delusion of your comfort, a sense of ardency replaced your indifference.

Madame Eleanor marveled at the view of the spark before her, glowing like a vibrant vermillion.

But as the final pose commenced, you were disappointed to see a pair of blue eyes instead of Miles' brown ones.

"Perfect!" Eleanor gasps, her hands clasped together with a clap. "Finally! My goodness, how astounding."

You awkwardly pull away from your partner, your body drenched in sweat. Eleanor approaches you with a smile too wide for her cheeks. "That was amazing, dear. All four weeks of practice finally paid off." She sighs, placing a hand over your shoulder. "You dance just like your mother."

The words were harmless initially, but to you it was anything but praise.

You fake a smile. "Thank you."

"I think we've done enough today. Let's wrap it up and call it a day. Great job, everybody!"

Only then the burden was eased off your shoulders. Immediately, you walk towards the bench to reach for your backpack. You dip your hands inside to fish out for your phone, a variety of notifications written across the screen.

Despite the many notifications and boxes your phone bore, you endlessly scrolled down in search of one name and one name only.

Miles || 7 minutes ago

ye im up sorry ab that

kinda busy rn

what time r u gonna go btw

You look around in search of the clock, girl-mathing your way to fix your schedule.

You || Just now

maybe around 6?? idk yet, hold on

nvm maybe around 6:30 to 7:30

You had a lot on your plate, and though you were full, you still have to devour all of what's on there.

Before you could even shut your phone, Miles' text bubble suddenly pops up.

Miles replied to you || Just now

ok

js be on time

[Y/n] replied to you || Just now

damn u must miss me sm ;)

Miles looked over his phone from behind the screen of his mask— allowing it to unfold as he hid behind the brick walls above the roof, sinking down to the floor in exhaustion. Even then, he felt utterly warm just from the sight of your message alone. With a single press, he slips his hand off from the gauntlet just to hold his phone better.

He lolled his head sidewards, pondering over what to reply.

『 so what if i do?| 』

His thumb brushes against the send button, mind in complete tatters.

"... Hey." His head perks up at the sound of his uncle's voice. "What’chu doin lyin around? Get yo punk ass up, we’ve got lots to do."

"Y-Yeah, sorry." He stammers, slipping his phone into his pockets.

You glare at the screen before you.

「 Seen two hours ago 」

Well, fuck damn it, Miles. If you don’t miss me, might as well just say it. Does the G in your name stand for Ghoster or what?

“Are you even listening to me?”

You snap away from the abyss when the sound of your brother’s voice pulls you back to reality. The smoke exits your tongue as your eyes go past the black screen, welcoming the sight of your brother’s frustrated glare. His mere presence was an annoyance to you— as he was always scourging through your work like an animal desperate for scraps. It was pathetic. Despite all that, the both of you still managed to live under one roof.

It was your most common hobby to hang around the balcony to drink whatever beverage you felt like drinking. And at this time of autumn, hot cocoa was your most preferred drink, paired with any pastry you craved. As miserable as you were, you preferred suffering in your wealth. After all, it was yours to keep.

And yet despite your efforts to unwind, your pest of a brother suddenly appears like an unwanted guest.

“Can you stop smoking?” He pleads. In spite of his cries, you take another hit and blow. Antonne only gives up with a disgruntled groan.

“Did you see my message?”

“I did.”

“… Why didn’t you reply?”

“I did reply.” You pulled the mug to your lips. “I replied with silence.”

“You’re insufferable.” He clicks his tongue, sitting before you. Even then, you spare no time to even glance at him. Your other hand traces past the notes you’ve written over the documents, fingers flipping through the pages for a triple-check. Antonne stretched his neck, taking a peek at the title, and yet, you rest your palm over the private contents decisively.

“What do you want?” The sentence comes off too harshly for your own liking, yet it doesn’t shake you. Antonne insists.

“I want us to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

The mug clicks against the marble table as if to mark the end of your words. Antonne clasped his hands together, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. “I know it’s a difficult task, but direly, [Y/n], in all seriousness, you’re not inheriting the hotel.”

“I already know all that.” You interject. “And I still won’t drop my responsibilities.”

“What for?” He queries. “You’re bound for a life outside of all this mess— why do you keep bringing yourself into this life?”

You clamp your fist.

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

Antonne sat there, all the words in his mouth vanishing— leaving only a speechless, baffled face of himself that only worsened your mood. For a moment, his jaw hangs open, his mind ravaging through his thoughts to form a sentence.

“I don’t understand. Why— why are you doing this?”

For a moment, the thought of bursting crosses your mind, though right after the thought followed this shame of vulnerability. After all that, the only words that exited your mouth were,

“You would never be able to understand.”

“Can’t you at least—“ Antonne huffs, running a hand through his hair. “[Y/n], if this is about what happened to mother—“

“Mention her one more time, I dare you.”

Ruthless. A familiar air. You were too much like your father, and it was the most tragic thing. “It’s true, isn’t it?” He chokes out, knuckles growing paler from the grit of his wrist. “All this, all of what happened, you’re—“

“I have a meeting with dad.” You stand up, picking your things together. “Go find someone else to plague with your questions.”

“You’re irredeemably suffocating.”

“We’re siblings for a reason.”

Miles || Just now

im On my way!

wtf is that autocorrect

i meant to say im omw

im just gonna pick up something for a moment

The bell sang a soft chime upon his entrance. The warm air welcomes him, with a fire behind the bars of a furnace, and the smell of freshly baked goods and hot chocolate permeating throughout the establishment. Miles felt the chill of autumn roll off his gloved hands, embracing the warmth that felt very much like you. He peers over the aisles of bookshelves lined up before a fake brick wall, picturing the idea of sitting next to you with your nose buried into some novel, allowing him to lean his head over your shoulder to listen to you whisper about some paragraph.

He wanders and wanders, taking note of the chalk-written menu above the cashier, the half-eaten pies beneath glass domes, and the homely pictures of the owner’s life story hung all across the walls.

Next to the counter, a lone, middle-aged woman stood with a mug and a rug in her hands. Her blue eyes flit open— and it reminds him of the dull grey he often witnessed during a heavy downpour, and she acknowledged him with a single nod.

“Afternoon.”

Miles returns the gesture. “Afternoon, ma’am.”

His steps take him closer to the counter. It must’ve been suspicious somewhat— him, who was dressed in tones of dark purple and black like some thief, standing by the entrance for far too long. Miles had to admit, his presence was unbefitting of this whole cozy theme, and yet when he imagines you there with him, suddenly, he didn’t feel all too out of place anymore.

Miles looked at the woman, only then recognizing her from the pictures on the wall. Instead, now, she’s aged past her prime, and her blonde hair was shorter and frizzier. Her eyes were now tucked behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses, having to squint just to study his presence.

“I-I just had to ask..” Miles gulps. “Are you guys perhaps.. Hiring r’now?”

“Hiring?” The woman raised a brow. “Why? You wanna apply?”

“Oh no! Not me,” He frantically explained. “I-I’m inquiring after my girl— my girlfriend.”

Embarrassment bled into his freckled cheeks. Initially, he wanted to say the two terms, girl and friend, separately to explain you were just that (But were you, really?), instead the unsure label clumsily exited his lips.

Then again, it’s not like you’d correct him had you been there anyways.

“Your girlfriend?” The woman placed a hand over her hip, a southern sort of twang in her voice. “Why isn’t she the one asking me?”

“Oh— it’s just, she’s really busy, and I know she really likes this place.. God… Idonreallyknowhowtoexplainitbut,” She held a hand up to ease his pace, shaking her hand. “Hold on, lover boy. I can’t understand a single damn thing, hold your horses.”

Miles nibbled on his lower lip, taking a deep breath. “Okay. Basically, she mentioned about wanting to apply here but couldn’t find the time to ask, so just in case her schedule clears up, I wanted to know if you guys are up to hiring part-timers… So I can tell her.” He managed to explain in a much calmer way, watching carefully as the owner hummed.

“So you only really wanna ask?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, alright.” For a moment, she bends down to reach something beneath the counter. A second or two later, she stands right back up, slipping a crisp flyer towards him. “All the details are in there. If she wants to apply, tell her to call for me— the name’s Matilda, and you’re?”

“Miles, a-and my girlfriend’s name is [Y/n], by the way.” Miles beams, picking up the paper. He liked repeating that word, girlfriend.

“Alright, Miles. I’ll wait for your little girlie.”

“Thanks a lot.”

Looking over to the glass domes, Miles then added.

“Also, can I get like a slice of each pie you have?”

You || fifteen minutes ago

I’m already here

where the fuck are you smh

“One, two, three… Spin.”

Miles shuts the chain door behind him, eyes rummaging through the darkness in search of the voice’s owner. At the end of the hall, a dim light emerged along with a shadow dancing over the golden circle just behind a wall. The dark figure moved like a ghost, each step of her feet echoing throughout the subway. The boy neared like a moth to flame, holding the box of pies close to his chest as he neared and neared.

Slowly, he peeks over the wall, only to find you dancing along to something he couldn’t comprehend. You had your phone in your hand, and your headset on too. A count was on your lips, lasting in intervals of three to eight. Your steps were like pulses, and the way you had your hands up meant that it was likely a partnered dance, despite the evident gap, you carried the dance effortlessly well, even in a pair of jeans and a hoodie. You were too lost in the flurry of the Latin music that was melting into your ears like honey, and Miles was too lost in the sight of you. There he was, gawking like a little kid on Christmas day, with his lips half parted and eyes following the traces of your fingers.

He’d already known you were something of a dancer. The way you carried yourself, the way you walked, and the way you moved, Miles noticed it all; A sort of grace, or some sort of flow in the way you presented yourself.

Like a princess, little girls would say.

Yeah, like a princess. My princesa.

Only then, you twirled and met his gaze. You froze in terror as Miles placed his hand over your shoulder.

Do it, Miles! You can do it! Just like what Uncle Aaron taught you.

“Heyy…”

“… WHAT THE FUCK!”

Your phone comes flying out of your hands, landing straight into Miles’ abdomen with a powerful thud. He catches the gadget with a groan of pain and laughter, which comes out as a dying wheeze. You rush to his aid, pulling the box out of his grasp and placing it down.

“Holy shit! Are you okay? Why the fuck were you standing there like a fucking skincrawler— fucking hell, Miles!” You endlessly cussed, aiding him by the arm.

“… I couldn’t help it.” He heaved. “You looked like one of those inflatable tube dancers, jesus— HAHAHAHAHA“ And he’s back to howling in your face all over again, falling to the floor like a duck in search of air. You click your tongue and swat his shoulder.

“I bet you can’t even dance.”

“Yeah, that makes the both of us.”

“Oh I hate you so much.” You shove him lightly before burying your face behind your hands.

“… Why were you dancing anyway?” Miles eased, eyeing the darkness. “And why didn’t you turn on the lights? The whole damn scene looked kinda apocalyptic.”

You knelt next to him, nails digging into the fabric of your jeans. “Well, I kinda have this tango performance at school and it’s in two weeks… I’m still not all that confident with what I’m about to present, so I’ve been working my ass off to perfect it.” You waved your hand around. “And about.. This... I couldn’t find the damn switch.”

He shakes his head in disapproval, placing his arm over his knee. “God, you’re hopeless.”

You tilt your head, lowering your voice into a whisper. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“…. I can dance tango.” He dumbly grins. “I think— I mean, I’ve watched it before, and I’m hella great with my feet.”

“Is that a proposal to dance with me?”

Miles scoffed. “In your damn dreams.” He laughs, leaning his head over to the wall. There, you pout at him like some little kid.

“What? Why are you lookin at me like that?”

And the next thing he knows, he’s up with his chest pressed against yours, listening to the sound of your voice guiding him through the basic steps of the Latin dance. He takes your other hand in his, while your other is latched onto his shoulder. Carefully, his fingers creep up on your waist, the sensation silencing him.

“And then when I step back like this, you take your left foot forward, and we’re just going to do this back and forth.”

“Oh— okay, oh shit,”

“Ow.”

“Sorry.”

“Just think of it as a game, and follow my feet.”

Miles readily follows your words, uttering subtle apologies whenever he’d step on one of your feet. When he does get the eventual gist of it, the two of you prance around in short steps. Miles grew overly conscious with the sound of his breath, as you were too near that it was detrimental to his whole being. With your head down, you carefully watched his moves, completely anonymous to Miles’ staring. He was hoping you’d look up and catch him like you always do. You were so pretty like that.

“Very good.” You beam. “Damn, you really do dance well, huh?”

“Of course I do.” He clumsily twirls you into his arms, still catching you either way. “I got it from my mama.”

“I assume she’d be a greater dancer than you, though.”

“Well, yeah, that’s true.” He admits. “But hey, ain’t I a good partner?”

As you turned around once more, your faces inch closer, your lungs a little too short of breath. Your hand traces down the outlines of his arms, the tension between the both of you thickening. You could almost sense it, Miles begging you to give in, and you were bound to— eventually.

“Yeah, you’re doing great.”

Then again, you pull away, fingers brushing past and slipping away from his palm. Although you were the one distancing yourself, your hand reached out for his. You tried to fool yourself into thinking that it was just for the dance— but when you circle him, and when you notice that Miles couldn’t help but face your figure, no matter where it went— you were defenseless. He looked at you like you were the eclipse, a shadow that capered around the flashlight’s gleam like how the moon would collide with the sun. You swivel back into his grasp, and you couldn’t care less if it was anything but perfect, because it was only at that moment that you recognized tango in its truest form.

And it was through this dance that Miles realized he’d absolutely die for you.

As the ending commences, the two of you smile at one another. Miles, who grinned at you so lovingly, could hardly see the rue in yours. “You ain’t half bad.” He then states, easing a crack out of his limbs as he stretches. “That was some ground-breaking exercise, shit, I started feelin shit I ain’t never felt before.”

“Yeah,” You tiresomely added. “God, now I’m starving.”

His head perks up. “Actually, I brought some food today.”

“Oh?”

He gestured over to the box. “I bought like a fuck ton of pies for my mom to cheer her up.” Miles picked up the box, offering it to you with a nudge. “You can get only two.”

As he slips the lid off, you marvel at the pastries inside, mouth watering from the smell.

“This one’s butterscotch, blueberry, apple.. Chocolate and banana, pumpkin, and cherry… The fuck are you doing?”

Miles watched as you positioned your phone above the box, angling it well. “Taking a picture, dumbass.” You shot back. The flashlight gleams over the food with a quick snap. “Shit, it looks so pretty.”

“Okay, you ain’t eating shit.”

“Wait!”

You point the camera at him. “Pose in three, two, one.”

And he pulls up his middle finger with a blank face.

“Tsk. Not like that, Miles.”

And he pulls up his pointer finger, turning his pose into a peace sign.

As the photo snaps, you immediately look into your phone’s album, grinning stupendously wide. “Pretty boy, indeed.”

“.. Why’d you keep calling me that?”

“Because you’re pretty. I like pretty things and pretty people.” You answered as though it were too obvious. Miles shook his head, hardly saying another word. Yet in his mind, he couldn’t help but ponder.

But you’re prettier than me.

“Now, which one should I eat?” You pondered with a tune, eyeing each slice. “They all look so good.. God! Okay, I’ll take butterscotch, and uh, the chocolate and banana one.” You cautiously tug the wrappers to pull out each of the treats. Miles couldn’t help but playfully deride. “You choose like a kid.”

“Just because I chose the chocolate one means I’m a kid.”

You take the flashlight and place it down the floor before taking a seat. Miles follows suit, sitting beside you with his chin resting above his palm, unconsciously watching you devour the treat with your cheeks full like some chipmunk. You hummed with each bite, going on about how you adored the flavor. Even as you did so, Miles listened and stared, adoring the way you spoke and the way you boasted about the flavors. Then and there, he realized how much he liked seeing you eat, and at that moment as well, Miles knew he’d like to eat with you everyday in the far future.

As you finished your little meal, you licked the chocolate off your fingers, anonymous to the stain on your cheek.

“You got a little sum on your..” He points at the corner of your lip. You try to wipe it off, yet it simply smudges. His fingers naturally reach for your chin to clean it off. You lean in, not thinking much about the act.

“Is it gone?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.” You sweetly beam.

Slowly, his fingers lift away from your chin.

You lean your head against the wall, heaving a short sigh. “That was absolutely delicious.”

“I bought it from that store we saw yesterday, down the block.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and uh,” He slips his hand into his pocket, fishing out the folded flyer. Hesitantly, he hands it over to you. “I got you something.”

“What’s this?” You airily query, unfolding the paper. You browsed into its contents, only then realizing that it was a part-timer flyer. Your jaw hung open, eyes switching glances between the contents and the boy beside you. “Wh-where did you get this?”

“I asked the owner.” He directly answered. “You wanted to know if you could.. Get a part time job, so I asked.”

“I—“ The mere act rendered you speechless. “Oh my god. This is… Why are you so nice to me?”

Miles’ head turns away. “I’m not being nice. I wanted to apply too.” He smoothly lied. “I got you a flyer just in case.”

【 Emilie Chocolat — We are now hiring! Open positions for: bookkeep, barista, cashier. Accepts part-timers. Must be at least fifteen years old. 】

“Oh, I don’t know if I could apply right now.”

“Why not?”

You chew on your inner cheek, cautious of your words. “I don’t really have the time to go to an interview right now. I’m very busy with school.. And at home..”

“Then go when you have the time.”

You think about it. “… Alright. I’ll try. Not entirely sure yet, but I’ll try.”

“Take your time.” Miles mildly suggested, as if to comfort. “You have all the time in the world, man.”

“… Yeah.”

You’d like the think his words were true. When it came to Miles, you find yourself a little too optimistic— a parallel of your usual self. You’d joked to yourself every now and then, that if the world was ending and Miles would tell you that there’s a cure, you’d believe him. And it wasn’t that you were easy to fool, no, it wasn’t that at all. You were quite smart, as mentioned by all those who watched you grow up, but since Miles’ entry into your life, you started optimistically letting things fall into place before scheming.

You didn’t know what to call it. Calling it infatuation was underwhelming for you. To say you simply like him didn’t feel enough.

Though you didn’t want to admit it too quick.

That’s how your mother fell anyway.

“Do you think,” You huff. “Do you think I can do it?”

Miles straightened his lips. “You probably can. You’re smart.”

You roll your eyes. “How’d you know?”

“Ion think someone dumb can lie so well about having band practice just to see someone at night.”

“I don’t lie often, Miles,” Your head lilts. “I lie only for you.”

“… By that, does lying to me also count?”

You don’t know how to answer. You can feel his expectant stare burning into your skin.

“…. It’s not about lying to you. There are just some things I prefer not to say.”

Your head pivots, finally earning the strength to look him in the eyes. Before he could even speak, you already knew what he was going to say. You knew him too damn well.

“If that’s the case, can I ask you about somethin?”

As you’re about to open your mouth, he holds up a finger.

“Don’t try to run away this time, and don’t lie. You’ve gotta swear on it.”

You raise your hand. “On God, I won’t lie nor will I try to run away.”

He brokenly nods, taking in a deep breath.

“… Then, who– who am I to you?”

[nolita-fairytale]

your instagram feed as a pastry chef dating carmen berzatto (& headcanon)

i made this as a companion piece to 'make my heart surrender.' reader's instagram feed after you move to chicago and headcanon about boyfriend!carmy.

if you haven’t yet, you can read ‘make my heart surrender’ here.

images are all from pinterest. if you own one of these and would like me to take it down, please let me know! i could see reader's instagram feed looking something like @apartmentmiso's insta.

your life in chicago would include:

when you first move to chicago, the two of you are like giddy kids in love who can't get enough of each other.

while you get your own place, it's almost a moot point because you spend so much of your time together between the restaurant and sleepovers. it doesn't take long for you and carmy to decide that you should just live together. and six months later (spring 2023-ish) his lease is up, and since he has less crap to move, he decides to move in with you.

it's certainly an adjustment, and it's important for you to have separate spaces/hobbies too. carmy def has an avoidant attachment system (and you def have some strong avoidant tendencies too), so you both need space sometimes to go to shut down for a little bit. sometimes your relationship feels like it's moving so quickly, and other times, it feels like a natural pace considering you platonically dated for years before.

carmy as a boyfriend: carmy is such a loving boyfriend. we know that he is an acts of service king, so while he may not always have the right words to convey his feelings or communicate (he's working on it) he's always looking for a way to show you he loves you. since this is his first real relationship, you have to be patient with him as he learns how to be a partner. it works because you know he is trying, and you often remind him that it's like when you guys were best friends in new york, except now you get to have sex.

this is a deeply passionate relationship because you both very intense people in your own ways. being loved causes carmy to soften a little. though he's still just as laser-focused and commanding in the kitchen, he's also more openly empathetic. as he explores what connecting with you feels like, it helps him connect with others better. being loved by carmy brightens you, lifts you up, and makes you feel lighter.

when the time is right, you ask him if it's okay to call him by the family nickname, 'bear.' it feels too intimate to do off-the-cuff, and he's more than happy to say yes.

lots of farmers' market dates when you both can get a saturday or sunday morning off.

being there for him as he feels more and more ready to talk about his relationship with mikey. every anniversary and birthday feels heavy, especially as carmy starts processing his grief and guilt.

when you get into fights because he's being a dick or not letting you in, or you're pushing him too hard, you both agree to take a time out before having a conversation. even when it's a big fight and there's yelling and arguing (and maybe some argument sex), you both are committed to making this work. it's surprisingly healthy and a product of the both of you being in therapy.

the first time you fight, carmy freaks the fuck out and thinks it may be over, and you have to explain to him that sometimes couples fight. you both agree to love each other, even when you hate each other.

you both love a secondhand moment and spend your days off thrifting vintage denim and one of a kind pieces. you're that annoyingly stylish couple that always looks good and always finds the best things secondhand.

in terms of separate hobbies, you get really involved in your local urban garden and begin to help create programs/workshops within their org to foster food accessibility. this becomes a big passion of yours, and it leads you to getting selected for one of the summer james beard chef bootcamp sessions (advocacy intensive for policy change in the food industry)

making the most stunning cakes in and outside of the restaurant (here me out but i feel like you have somewhat of a strong instagram presence as a pastry chef).

speaking of social media: i have this headcanon of everyone realizing that angel has a knack for social media / storytelling, so he takes over the social media account from richie and carmy. angel becomes the main character of the social media account and it's kind of iconic.

you and sydney become close friends, and at some point, you try to set her up with a sous you used to work with who has just moved to chicago.

you love taking photos of carmy when he's not looking -- especially at work. and he hates it but he actually loves the fact that you have a full camera roll of photos of him.

on a day off, one of your favorite things to do if you have the energy, is to make an extravagant layer cake (or some other indulgently time consuming food project) with the windows open on a perfectly warm spring day just for fun. other days the two of you lay around, sleep in, and enjoy doing absolutely nothing.

the two of you adopt a little black kitty from a local shelter and name them aioli

helping carmy adjust to having more downtime when the bear begins hiring more staff and he's not needed 24/7. he struggles with letting go of some control, but begins to appreciate having more than one day off a week.

nsfw thoughts:

okay so we already know that our acts of service king loves to go down on his partner. like i'm genuinely so obsessed with the fact that as a fandom we universally agree on this. he's also a bit of a people pleaser so... this just makes sense to me.

i do think, for the most part, he lets you lead as you probably have more experience than him, and he wants to learn what you like/don't like.

however, i think over time, he'd definitely gain more confidence in the bedroom and would feel more comfortable taking the lead more often.

the more confident he gets, the more you let him lead, and frankly, you find it really hot when he takes control. like i don't think carmy will ever be a dom daddy, but he would engage in some light spanking, leaving love bites all over you, and fucking you into the mattress by the end of the sesh.

carmy is def a needy bb who loves to be praised/hear that you're his, how much you need him, how good he makes you feel.