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gyusbambi · 3 years

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humph; han seojun (pt 5)

click here for humph masterlist!

story: frenemies to enemies to lovers, high school au

synopsis: seojun and you have known each other since kindergarten. you’re neighbors and even attended the same singing and piano classes. despite knowing each other for such a long time, you don’t enjoy spending time with seojun. even though you are aware of his unfairness, you keep spending time with him. when will you finally leave your childhood frenemy?

note: this is the last part of the series! i’m thankful for everyone who liked, commented and shared this fanfiction it really means a lot to me! through this series i gained many followers, i never imagined that this would get so many likes! again, hope you enjoy the last part and stay tuned for many other fictions hehe. humph! is a story inspired by pentagon’s “humph! / 접근금지”. originally, this is a seungyeon fanfiction, which i posted on my wattpad. words: ~4k

words cannot describe your current feelings. all you can say is that everything feels unreal and odd. indeed, you’re no longer able to focus on your work. all because of that night. all because of stupidly drunk han seojun.

why did you have to pick him up? why didn’t you just call someone else? thanks to his actions, you feel emotionally confused. not to mention, you are frightened to go to school.

can you imagine how awkward it’s going to be if seojun remembers the night? without doubt, your heart would get broken because you just know he’s going to apologize for kissing you. he’ll tell you it happened because he was drunk and definitely not because he feels anything for you.

memories from that night fill your head and it’s the only thing you can think of for the rest of the weekend.

not until your mother forces you to visit the han’s with her. no wonder you refuse to go, han seojun kissed you! of course, neither your mother nor your brother understand your panicked actions when you drop on your knees, hiding your face in your palms dramatically. both of them end up dragging you to the han’s, ignoring your annoying whines.

seojun’s mum greets you with excitement when you eventually arrive at their front door. stepping in with your trembling body, you look around in paranoia, checking if seojun’s home. while doing so, you fail to notice juyeong giving you a side glance with narrowed eyes.

you: chorong please pick me up from seojun’s house

quickly you type your friend a text message before entering the living room, where gowoon waves at you happily.

kim chorong: you’re at seojun’s?!

kim chorong: can i guess what you’re doing ;)

your phone rings two times in a row, making all eyes land on you. laughing it off, you put your phone on mute before typing chorong a reply.

you: ew no please just save me from here okay?

the conversation between the mums continue and suddenly your brother asks if seojun is home. gowoon replies that he probably got out of the shower just now, which puts you in a panicked situation.

i need to get outta here

but like always, the universes loves playing with you right on time because the next thing you see is seojun walking out of his room, dressed in jeans and a hoodie, hand ruffling his wet hair. trying your best not to make eye contact, your gaze darts around the whole room.

after greeting your mother and juyeong, seojun’s eyes land on your awkward figure. no longer able to avoid his gaze, you look right back at seojun, cheeks turning into a red color. you can’t do anything but blink since you’re extremely nervous. if he does remember everything from that night, you want to get swallowed by the floor beneath you. if he doesn’t, you certainly will try your best to remain calm and unsuspicious.

“do you have a moment?”, without waiting for too long seojun grabs your wrist after putting the towel away.

“f-for what?” you manage to speak as your panicked posture suddenly stiffens.

“science project.”, the boy comes up with an average excuse while trying to ignore the surprised looks everyone is giving him as he practically drags you to his own room.

what if he knows?!

from all the heart racing, you’re sure that you’ll end up in the hospital one day. it technically pounds heavily in your chest when you’re head is going through every possible answer you could give seojun when he asks you about the kiss.

after pulling you into his room, seojun closes the door behind you before pushing your body against it. in only seconds, his palm presses against it, right next to your face. it reminds you of the time when he questioned you about his motorcycle keys in the hallways. thankfully, his face isn’t as close as back then. you’re pretty sure, you would’ve fainted by now.

“so what about the science project, haha?” words finally leave your mouth when you realize seojun isn’t going to say anything but stare at your flustered face.

“about that...”, seojun mutters in a quiet tone as he leans in slowly. the only thing you can do is avoid his gaze while gulping, thinking that he probably remembers the kiss. yet, when he doesn’t stop getting closer, lips almost touching yours, you push him away in a swift move, eyes wide in shock,

“what the hell!”

han seojun doesn’t seem surprised. he only scratches his neck, eyes darting around his room before finally landing on your panicked figure,

“i had to do an experiment.”

“w-what experiment? are you kidding me?”

more confused than ever, you question with a flushed face. however, seojun sighs to reveal his exhaustiveness, hands hiding his face before rubbing his brow to ward off his headache,

“i- something happened friday night and i can’t stop thinking about it.”

acting like you don’t know what happened, you continue to look at him with confusion.

“i drank a little bit too much and can’t really remember anything except for one detail- but apparently someone came to pick me up and brought me home. i asked the worker who it was and he told me it was my neighbor.”

when seojun trails off and shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows you hold yourself back from letting out a relieved sigh.

he doesn’t know it was you. it’s like all the worries leave your body before the boy starts talking again,

“isn’t that weird? i mean why would my neighbor come to get me, it’s not like i’m close to any of them. also, which neighor? he said it was a girl around your height with y/h/c hair. the only neighbor that comes to my mind is lee minji but there’s no chance i could have kissed her.”

“you did what?”, although knowing exactly what he did, your eyes widden in horror when you notice that he remembers the kiss but not the person. seojun realizes what he just said and tries to explain everything in a rushed tone,

“look, i don’t know why i did it. i was drunk! besides that, i’m not even sure if it was her, or anyone! what if it’s just a false memory? or a dream?”

the young boy feels like he needs to justify himself to you when he catches glimpse of the worry hiding in your eyes. han seojun doesn’t want you to think that he would kiss anyone just like that. in fact, he wouldn’t want to kiss anyone but you.

but that’s not what you’re thinking at the moment. the only thing you can focus on is seojun’s statement leaving his mouth a few seconds ago: “i was drunk!”

of course, he was. how could you even have the smallest hope that he kissed you because he wanted to? ashamed of your expectations, you clear your throat and look away, playing with the rings on your fingers.

“oh man, that sucks!”, you chuckle falsely, “don’t worry about it too much. it could happen to anyone, you know?”

“i think about it day and night, thought.”, seojun rubs his neck, eyes fixed on the carpet on the floor.

“why? was it that special for you?”, laughing you push his shoulder playfully.

unexpectedly, seojun looks up to meet your eyes and blinks,

“it was.”

your heart drops. your body freezes on spot. your eyes stare into his.

hearing this shocked you, why was it special to him? without doubt, it was special to you too. precisely, you remember his soft lips on yours, warm touch on your face.

breaking the stare, you shake your head and look around, “just forget about it.”

after a short silence, your eyes finally land on something certain on seojun’s desk. taking a few steps closer, you are able to take a closer look at the item. picking up the polaroid picture, you smile at the photo of you sleeping on seojun’s shoulder in the bus. your arm was wrapped around his torso, his look fixed on you.

“where did you get this?”, turning around with the picture still in your hands, you show it to seojun with a happy face.

“o-oh that? the others took it while you were sleeping.”

“i didn’t know you had this.”

“yeah, i kinda just forgot hahahaha.”

“sure you did!”, suddenly kim chorong bursts into the room with a teasing smile,

“i’m here, y/n. but it seems like you don’t need me anymore.”

“why are you here?”, seojun frowns.

“she told me to come! it’s not always about you.”, sticking out this tongue, your friend shrugs and lets himself fall on seojun’s bed,

“what are we doing today? how about noraebang?”

brushing his fingers over the multiple lipsticks, seojun’s eyes focus on a certain pink one. hesitantly, he picks it up to take a closer look before putting it back to its place.

“do they have strawberry ones?”, he asks his sister who looks for something specific. gowoon asked his brother if they could go to the mall together, since she’s been getting into make up these days and therefore needs more products.

“what?”

“like strawberry lip balms.”

“why do you need one?” she laughs at her brother who seems a little unsure.

“just because!” seojun tries to hide everything when he notices his sister making fun of him.

when she eventually shows him the lip balms and he’s able to smell all of them, seojun gives up. the boy went through several lip balms but couldn’t find the right one. maybe he should just give up looking for signs.

“why is everyone so obsessed with them? y/n owns plenty of them, it‘s insane.“

juyeong, who happened to tag along with gowoon and seojun, lets out a sigh as he watches the older boy.

“she does?“, suddenly seojun is interested in something that juyeong says.

“absolutely. you can ask her, you know?“

“i should ask her as well! she seems to like make up!“, gowoon smiles excitedly.

although juyeong is aware of his sister‘s lack of skills in make up, he still nods almost to quickly,

“definitely, you should! you can come to our house since she‘s always home anyway.“

seojun no longer listens to the younger‘s conversation, but instead thinks about what juyeong said earlier.

running to get in class on time has become a regular thing for you. once again, your legs move in super speed in the empty hallways as you hold tight on your heavy books. not even realizing your open backpack hanging on your right shoulder, you struggle to breathe normally.

you become interested in your untied shoes while running and suddenly bump into someone else, because you didn’t look ahead.

in a swift move the person steadies you to keep you from falling. still, your backpack drops from your shoulder and causes all of your belongings to drop on the floor.

too distracted from the mess that got created, you quickly kneel down to collect your books and folders,

“shoot!” you mutter, extremely stressed from the fact that you’re losing more time.

“running late again, zombie?”

you realize it’s han seojun when he bends down to help you pick up your stuff. after collecting some of your folders and books, his eyes focus on a certain lip balm placed next to your foot. instantly he reaches for it with a frown, your books still in his other hand.

completely stressed out, you rapidly stuff all of your supplies into your backpack and fail to notice seojun observing every small detail of your lip balm. as you finally look up, you take your books away from seojun’s grip and hold them in your hands instead of putting them back in, so that you can save some time,

“thank you.”, before you can leave seojun stands in front of you, holding your strawberry lip balm. after smelling it, he raises his eyebrows at you,

“is this yours?”

“oh, yes! thanks.” unaware of his thoughts, you take the item from his hand with a smile and put it into the pocket of your blazer.

and then seojun just stands there, watching you sprint to your next class.

he’s about to lose his mind.

patting his skin dry with a towel after washing it with cold water, seojun’s gaze darts around the school’s gym. his eyes look for you in the big hall filled with students, who came to watch the basketball game. the young boy is sure to have seen you sitting in the first row with lee suho during the game. however, it seems like you are nowhere to be seen. did you maybe leave with lee suho?

frustrated and tired at the same time, seojun approaches his friend kim chorong only seconds after the game,

“do you know where y/n is?”

“y/n? i’m not quite sure. she was here during the whole game, thought.”, chorong shrugs with a small pout forming on his lips.

“how did she leave so fast?”, seojun sighs annoyed before someone suddenly hits his back forcefully,

“if you’re looking for y/n, she just left with lee suho.”, sua tries to hide her teasing smile.

“with lee suho? why? where did they go?”

“she told me she lost her bracelet and wanted to find it.”, sua crosses her arms,

“they’re probably looking in the hallways or something.”

hearing that, seojun instantly drops his bag and runs out of the gym hall, ignoring his friend’s calls.

“yah, where are you going? we’re gonna celebrate your win!”, kim chorong yells only to turn to sua after seojun is out of his sight. they both share a smile before high fiving,

“good job.”

“taehoon just called me. suho left y/n. she’s alone in the hallways, looking for that bracelet.”

“as expected, cupid team never fails.”

seojun slows down when he turns the next corner. finally reaching the hallway of the third floor, his steps echo in the empty area. it’s dark outside and many students already left the building right after the end of the basketball game, leaving only seojun and you in the dark hallway of the third floor.

eventually the young boy spots you near your classroom, searching for your bracelet with worried eyes. he notices how you run your hand through your hair, upset that you lost something so important. seojun hides behind the wall, still questioning if he should approach you. strangely, suho is not around which makes him question everything.

while thinking about leaving, seojun’s eyes land on a specific item placed right next to the plant on his right side. surprised, he picks up the flower bracelet, which he gifted you after he apologized on the last day of the school trip, and stares at it for a short while.

hesitantly, seojun finally steps out and approaches you with a more relaxed figure.

letting out a yelp, you turn around in a swift move when you feel two hands placing on your shoulders. with widen eyes you face han seojun standing only a few inches away from you. pressing a palm on your chest, you sigh in relief,

“you scared me. again.”

“looking for this?”, ignoring your annoyed eyes, he swings your bracelet in his right hand.

“how- where did you find it? i was looking everywhere!”, quickly you snatch it away from him to place it around your wrist tightly, making sure it won’t slip out this time.

“is it so important that you spend hours searching in this building?” seojun rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest, “you should go home now. it’s really late.”

“yes. it is important to me.” you mutter and glare at the boy in front of you before thanking him.

after that, suddenly silence takes over the room. you are too busy adjusting the bracelet on your wrist, while seojun only watches you with a curious gaze. he seems to be lost in his own thoughts.

it’s true that he’s seen you wear it every single day.

he’s also certain about the smell of your strawberry lip balm. seojun is a little bit angry at himself, for remembering every small detail of the kiss, but not the face of the person he shared it with. maybe he’s just tricking himself about it. maybe it is actually you, who he kissed that night.

thinking of the only way to find out, the boy interrupts the long silence as he puts his hand into the pocket of your blazer, taking out the specific strawberry lip balm. you��re more than surprised and freeze on spot when he places the tip of the container on your bottom lip and applies it on your lips.

absolutely taken aback, you fail to notice seojun taking a few steps closer to you, his body almost attached to yours now. it doesn’t take him long to lift up your chin, enabling your eyes to meet his. they look into yours with so much intensity that your cheeks start glowing from the heat. once again, your heart pounds aggressively in your chest as the young boy nears his face to yours. from all your experiences till now, you feel the most nervous now. not to mention, confused from his sudden actions. (*insert “i’m the mood for dancing” by yuju*)

last time he was drunk and didn’t know what he was doing.

now he’s completely aware of his actions.

instantly you close your eyes shut, waiting impatiently for his lips to touch yours. both of you have been longing feel this feeling again, never able to get rid of the memory from friday night. seojun tilts his head slightly before finally placing his lips on your soft ones.

and in the exact moment, when he tastes the strawberry flavor on your lips, his heart speeds up, his hands hold your warm face, he knows it’s you. he realizes that it was you, who picked him up and you, who he kissed with so much emotion.

firmly you grip onto seojun’s t-shirt when your knees feel weak. as a result the boy only smiles against your lips before his hands move from your face to your waist, pulling you to his body. running one hand up and down your waist, he continues moving his lips against yours.

before you have the chance to move yours arms to wrap them around his neck, seojun slowly pulls away. you open your eyes to see him licking his bottom lip with a small smile. somehow you’re unable to meet his eyes when he lets out a chuckle,

“thought i wouldn’t find out sooner or later?”

“h-how did you know it was me?”, you whisper, grip still tight on his shirt.

“strawberry taste.”

his simple answer surprises you, “oh, right...”

seojun caresses your face in his hands as he notices your shy tone to make you look at him,

“why didn’t you just tell me?”

“i thought you didn’t mean it since you were extremely drunk.”

“ah, y/n. you haven’t changed at all, have you?”

hearing seojun suddenly laugh makes you even more confused,

“what do you mean?”

“you’re always so oblivious about everything like my feelings towards you.” seojun smiles at you adoringly and pushes a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“you-”

“i like you, y/n. have been the whole time.”

“you were always mean to me, how was i supposed to know?”, slighlty pouting, you push his shoulder playfully.

“you’re right and i’m sorry about that. i was so focused on hiding my feelings that i didn’t realize i was hurting you. i didn’t want you to think that i liked you.”

“you succeeded.”

“yeah,” seojun scratches his neck while looking into your eyes, “still haven’t gotten an answer from you, y/n.”

taking his hand, you rub the back of it before kissing his right cheek,

“i like you too, seojun.”

seojun melts. he feels his happiest and his cheeks turn into the shade of a tomato.

“look at us. who would’ve thought?”, you laugh at his shyness.

“not me.”, seojun smiles before pulling you in for another kiss.

the cold hair hits your face as you sit on a swing while seojun pushes you. swinging your feet with a big smile on your face, you glance behind your shoulder quickly to see seojun looking at you with adoring eyes.

“higher!”, you scream, catching the kids’ attention on the playground for a short second.

therefore, your boyfriend pushes you with more force as he tries to hide his amused grin, “as you wish, my highness. but you’re scaring the kids away, don’t you think?”

“feels like we’re kids again.”, you remember your childhood moments with seojun.

“enough for now. when is it my turn?”, seojun pouts playfully, still pushing you on the swings.

“i said ten minutes not five, seojun.”

both of you laugh hysterically at your remark before he firmly grips on the chain of the swing, making it stop abruptly. before you can turn around to look at him with a frown, your boyfriend places a kiss on your left cheek, causing them to turn into a shade of bright pink.

“i love you.”

“i love you too, seojunnie.”

that’s all seojun needs to hear before pushing you on the swing again, heart melting in his chest.

and in the end of the day he knows that you’ll always be there for him. and you know that he’ll be right there too.

the end!

this is the last part of the series “humph; han seojun”. firstly, i hope you liked the ending and the story in total. secondly, i wrote this story because i noticed that there aren’t many han seojun fics! i thank everyone for giving me all the love that i don’t deserve. thirdly, please stay tuned for more fanfictions! be aware that i’m open for requests, feedback and everything nice. love you and stay safe,

your writer renjunes

#the end #humph #frenemies to lovers #han seojun #seojun #han seojun fluff #seojun fluff #han seojun x reader #han seojun imagine #han seojun imagines #seojun imagines #seojun imagine #seojun x reader #true beauty #kdrama #kpop #hwang in yeop #hwang inyeop #fanfiction

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wroteasongabouther · 4 years

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can’t stand to see you lonely: part 1

a/n: oh my god guys it’s finally here!😬 i really hope i didn’t hype myself up too much and that you guys actually like it. overall i just wanted to put out a story that revolved around christmas and this is what i came up with! so without me babbling too much, i hope you enjoy part 1 of my new story and as always any feedback/reblogs are very much appreciated.

and of course, thank you to the lovely jess @arrogantstyles and jill @havethetimeofyourstyles for beta reading this part for me and giving this rusty old writer the help i needed lol

word count: 17k

warnings: mentions of alcohol, some sexual tension, and an over consumption of starbucks holiday drinks.

fic page // let’s chat // cstsyl playlist

“What floor?” Harry asks, eyes stuck on the many buttons in the elevator instead of seeing who had entered the small space with him. He can tell it’s a woman, and they smelt lovely.

“Six please,” her soft voice replies.

Harry looks over his shoulder in what he hopes is a smooth motion to get a quick peek at who was behind that sweet voice. Her eyes were squinting slightly as she smiles at him. She must be my new neighbour, he thinks as he hits the number six button and it lights up before the elevator begins to move. He steps back, standing in the opposite corner of the young woman. Harry assumes that she is maybe a few years younger than him, but one thing he knew for sure was that she was very pretty. He may even say she was stunning. She's all bundled up with a long coat and a thick scarf as he guesses she had just gone out for some shopping, judging by the few large white paper bags hanging off her arm.

“Did you just recently move in?” He questions, catching her eyes switching from gazing at the wall to his own instead.

She smiles again and nods, “yeah.”

“I thought I heard someone move in beside me,” he exclaims. He was certain that someone had moved in beside him. It caused him a bit of a headache hearing all the moving around. And then on top of that, his new neighbour had decided to get right to hammering in on the wall they shared. Little did he know, there was a determined and beautiful girl on the other side.

“Oh you’re my neighbour then?” She says, bringing Harry back from his memory of a few days ago.

“Harry,” he introduces himself, reaching a hand out into the space between them. She switches her Starbucks holiday cup into her other hand in order to shake his. Her hand is warm from holding the drink and it causes Harry's stomach to erupt with little bitty butterflies.

“Y/N,” she says in the same gentle voice as before. He wanted to hear her talk more. There was something about the soft tone of her voice, like he could listen to her speak into the late hours and early mornings and never once get tired of it. He blinks a few times and drops her hand at his intimate thought.

Harry didn't believe in love at first sight per say, but he was known to develop an infatuation of sorts very quickly. A crush as some would call it. Well, to be precise, Mitch teases him the most of his little crushes. There was that one time that Harry fumbled over his words over and over again when they had gone for dinner and had a rather attractive waitress, having asked for her number at the end of the night too. Mitch mocked him for days about it, asking if she had ever texted him back - she didn’t. And Harry didn’t even want to think about the time he spilled an entire blended margarita on his white vans when a certain handsome lifeguard had winked at him during their trip in LA last summer. Mitch still doesn’t let that incident go either.

The elevator doors open, and Harry gives her a smile and motions with a hand for her to walk out before he does. His mom must’ve raised him well, Y/N thinks at her new neighbours mannerisms. First holding the elevator for her, then offering to press the elevator button, and now letting her exit first. Suppose it was just minor things, but growing up in this lovely city that is New York meant she was used to the rudeness of people and sadly the simplest of gestures can make her heart beat just a bit faster in her chest.

“If you uh,” Harry pauses as Y/N stops at her front door but looks back at him as he speaks. Harry slows his steps to keep eye contact with her. “If you ever need anything, don’t feel shy to knock on my door.”

Y/N smiles again, nodding at his offer while she twists her key in the lock and opens her front door. Harry's walking backwards now, just a few steps to that same door he’s saying she can knock on. His eye contact is intense, but addicting, like every word she had to say to him mattered. His eyes are green, just green, nothing crazy and yet she found them very endearing. Would it be cliche of her to say she swore she saw them sparkle?

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you,” she says and before she can say anything else, she steps into her new apartment and shuts the door behind her.

Y/N finds herself standing there for a moment, remembering every word Harry had spoken to her as she slips out of her shoes. She then remembers his facial features while undoing her coat and hanging it up along with her scarf. The bit of facial hair he was sporting, how it seemed like it may have taken a while to grow so he kept it minimal. Or that little mole by his mouth, she even took note of that in their short time together. He had a cute nose too, she thinks. Harry takes up every inch of space in her mind for over an hour before she’s brought out of whatever dream state fog she was in. She lets out a deep breath and shakes her head a little before going about wrapping the presents she had bought earlier in the day while sipping her Christmas Starbucks drink, falling back in love with the holidays all over again.

“No, no, no, no,” Y/N groans as she twists and turns the knobs for her shower, and yet, nothing happens. Only a few drops fall to the tiled floor causing her to let out another string of curses. “This can not be happening,” she says.

But it was. Y/N’s hair was a mess, beyond greasy and a bit matted from her sleep last night. Not to mention she smelt like sweat from bringing up the box that held her new fake christmas tree this morning. She had been tempted to walk down the hall and knock on Harry's door, but she didn’t want to be annoying and fall into the stereotypes of the helpless young female living on her own for the first time. So instead she grabbed a cable knit sweater, tugged on her old dirty ugg boots, and went down in the elevator to meet with the Amazon delivery person. Little did she know that the box was way too tall for the elevator. So, she ended up bringing it up herself. All six flights of stairs, Y/N pulled and dragged that box up to her floor which caused her to break quite the sweat. Thankfully, it wasn’t so heavy, but she couldn’t help but think that she went through all of this just so she could get her new fake christmas tree up. Freaking fake! Not even a real one because apparently that wasn't allowed at her apartment building. Oh, how she was going to miss the smell of a fresh christmas tree. And oh, how she wanted to get rid of this disgusting smell of sweat she embodied now.

“Why me?” She winces, looking up at the ceiling and letting the glass door for her shower close as she gave up on the water magically appearing.

Is this the most appropriate time to not be shy and knock on Harry's door? Suddenly, her Apple watch vibrates, and she brings her arm up to see the reminder she had set before to tell her of the tight schedule she’s on for the day. With only 45 minutes left to get ready, she needed to get moving quickly. Y/N curses herself for wasting the past fifteen minutes on her phone, reading over her newest Instagram comments and aimlessly scrolling through her feed. So she tugs both sides of her purple robe that she had changed into anticipating a shower in her own home. Y/N pulls it tighter and ties the belt around her waist into a bow, and before she can give it a second thought, she’s out the door of her own apartment and starting down the hallway.

Harry didn’t know when he thought Y/N would eventually knock on his door. A part of Harry was hoping that she would have knocked sooner than a week later. But nonetheless, when there was a frantic knock on his door, he didn’t miss how his heart skips in his chest as he imagined Y/N standing on the other side. Peering through the peephole in his door he saw her standing there - in a bathrobe? Harry's brows pull together in confusion as he unlocks the door and heaves the door open.

“Is your water working?” She asks, her voice sounding as panicked as her knocking had been. But before Harry can answer she starts talking a million miles an minute. “Cause mine’s not, like not a single drop and I need to shower. So badly. And I know it’s probably super weird and rude of me to just bang on your door and ask to use your shower. Honestly, I can’t even believe I am but I am in such a hurry and I have the busiest day ahead of me with work and going to the-”

“Y/N,” Harry cuts her off abruptly. Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and blinks up at him. “You need to use my shower? Is that what you’re getting at?”

Harry is a bit thrown off, not once did he think she’d come knocking for this reason. He glances down the hall awkwardly. He hopes that that noisy neighbour of theirs across the hall wasn’t peeping into their conversation, or seeing Y/N in this bathrobe. Mr Matthers can be a bit of a creep, Harry thinks. At the thought he hears a creak come from behind the door that’s across the hall.

She nods, “I know it’s like super strange to ask but mine is not working and I don’t have time to figure it out.” When Harry looks back at her, he notices she’s staring down at the ground between them, her eyes blinking rapidly as if she’s realizing what she’s gotten herself into. Harry didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable.

“S’alright, really, come in,” Harry says while opening the door to his apartment wider.

Y/N gives him a smile of appreciation before stepping into his home. The layout of Harry’s apartment is really just the opposite of hers, but the interior design he’s gone with is a lot better.

He’s gone for the classic monochrome look with blacks, white and greys. But with pops of colour where it matters, like a blanket over the back of his large L-shaped couch that looked handmade. She wonders if a family member made it, quite liking the light blues and pinks blended together. He’s got the same hardwood flooring like her own apartment and the plain off white paint on the walls - but with a few very unique paintings hung up on them. There’s two tall shelves, full of vinyls and novels and some picture frames too, that are on either side of his large flat screen tv which he took the time to hook up on the wall. It’s got a TV show paused on the screen, in her quick glance she can’t tell what show he was watching before she knocked but it looked like a cooking show. The corners of her lips twitch up into a smile at the thought of Harry being into cooking or baking maybe. He’s got a matching chair to his couch in the living room too that looks like she could fall asleep in it within a second. Overall it simply seems more grown up than her apartment - more put together and clean, that’s for sure.

To give her some credit, she has just moved in while she’s sure Harry’s been here for a while. Harry steps away from the door after locking it again, taking a few steps in order to be in her line of sight. With an arm thrown up, finger pointing down the hall, he gives Y/N another smile. He can’t help it, she looks rather adorable in that purple bathrobe. Was that all she was wearing? He thought to himself. He clears his throat as his mind goes on to imagine what’s under that plush purple material she’s wearing.

“Bathroom’s the first on the left,” he states, “did you bring your own soap or anything?”

“Honestly, no, I just kind of ran out of my place in quite a hurry and didn’t think twice as I got the sudden nerve to come over here.”

“Well, lucky for you I care about hair care, so there’s some good shampoos and even a nice hair oil to put into your hair afterwards when it’s damp. It’s in a small clear bottle with a white and gold label, by my toothbrush,” Harry explains. Y/N nods and starts towards the bathroom. With each step further into Harry’s home, she realizes what exactly she’s done. She can’t believe it really - just asking a complete stranger to let her shower in their home. She could be a murderer for all Harry knew, and he just opened his home up so freely. She steps into the bathroom, switching on the lights and the fan, she shuts the door and sighs. Lifting her arm up her Apple watch lights up to show the time. She had twenty minutes tops to shower, that’s all.

The bathroom is clean, very clean actually. Y/N lets her gaze wander around the space for a moment. There’s matching hand towels and all his skin and hair care are placed neatly on the small counter space too. She assumes he’s a bit of a neat freak. Turning to the shower, she opens the glass door gently and instantly reaches for the silver knobs. As she turns them water falls from the showerhead above her.

“Thank God,” she whispers while looking up at the water.

Y/N adjusts it to her preferred temperature and then she works on untying the knot of her robe. Words can’t describe how grateful she is that it held together in front of Harry. Him seeing her in the robe and with her hair in the state it’s in is embarrassing enough. Honestly, she can’t believe she even knocked on his door in it, and without any clothes to change into afterwards too. Stupid, she thinks while opening the glass door once more and stepping into the shower.

As Harry had said, there’s many bottles littering the built in shelves of the shower. Her fingers lazily turn the bottles so the labels face her. They’re all scented lavender of some sorts, helping with curly hair and volume. Well that explains why his hair looks so lovely, Y/N thinks as she opens a bottle of shampoo and squeezes it till a good amount falls into her other hand. As she hums ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’ she lathers up her hair and massages her scalp. Rinsing it out after and then doing the same with the conditioner. While she lets the conditioner sit in her hair she scans the few other bottles on the shelves for a body wash. She didn’t want to come out of the shower smelling like a pre-teen boy, but she also did not want to smell like sweat. Goats milk and lavender infused, Y/N reads the label of what looks to do a locally owned product. She can’t help but smile as she reaches for it and pours some into her hands before rubbing it over her skin. There’s something so sweet knowing that Harry supports local businesses. He really doesn’t seem like the guys that Y/N is used to.

Three sharp knocks on the door startle Y/N, bringing her out of her day dreams. She quickly brings her arms up to her chest, trying to save herself some modesty if Harry did walk in. Because of course she didn’t think to lock the door. God, what if Harry is a murderer? Y/N thinks. She doesn’t know him, he could very well walk in here with a large kitchen knife and stab her multiple times in the chest while the water begins to run red and she dies right here all because she thought his dimpled smile and green eyes were enduring. Didn’t she learn anything from the whole Ted Bundy thing? Hello, hot guy doesn’t immediately mean nice!

“Y/N?” Harry calls out from the other side of the door, raising his voice just slightly so she could hear it over the running water. She shakes her head from her ridiculous thought - no more Criminal Minds at night for her, she takes the quick mental note.

“Yes?” She responds.

“I just realized I didn’t give you a towel,” he says, his voice sounding strained as he closes his eyes and tries to not imagine his neighbour naked in his shower. Harry’s fist tightens around the towel as his mind ignores him and thinks of how the water is dripping down her skin.

“Oh, yeah,” she breathes out. Looking around the bathroom beyond the foggy glass. There weren't any towels that she could see. Maybe they were under the sink.

“So I uh, I grabbed one for you. I can just open the door really fast and drop it in, I wouldn’t look in I swear, I’d face the hallway and just reach through,” he clarifies, “wait, you locked the door didn’t you?”

“Actually, I didn’t,” Y/N says, “so yeah just drop it in, please and thank you,”

Harry nods, regardless of the fact Y/N can’t see him. He takes a deep breath before turning the doorknob and opening the door just a crack. The towel doesn’t quite fit through, so he opens it a bit more. His eyes are on the towel as he makes sure it gets into the bathroom. He notices the steam pillowing in the small space and just before he looks the other way, he sees Y/N’s purple bathrobe on the floor. Only her purple bathrobe. Harry swallows and drops the towel to the floor and quickly shuts the door again. Y/N jumps at the sudden slam of the door, her heart having been beating out of her chest as she stood under the warm stream of water and listened to Harry deliver the towel.

He spins around and walks away from the bathroom in a brisk walk, making it to his kitchen in record time. He takes a few breaths and blinks at the view from his kitchen window above the sink. It’s beginning to snow. Something tells him this will excite Y/N - just a feeling he has. He hardly knows the girl and he’s been conjuring up versions of her in his head these past seven days. He’d heard her play music through the walls Tuesday night, he recognized the artist after a few moments. Van Morrison, one of his favourites. What were the odds? He had thought. But then he quickly shut that thought down because many people liked Van Morrison, and just because his very cute neighbour liked the same music he did, that didn’t mean she was meant for him.

Then on Thursday in the middle of the day he had seen her running across the street from his apartment. One thing he loved about his apartment facing the front of the building is how he got to see people coming and going. That day it looked as though she was carrying a take out bag from his favourite restaurant. Again, what were the odds that she liked the same place? But again, he had another hard conversation with himself saying that it was a rather popular place in this area and lots of people liked to go there. Y/N was still a stranger to him. A naked and attractive stranger who was in his bathroom right now.

Harry breathes in deeply and leans both hands at either side of his sink as he watches the large snowflakes fall over New York City. He still couldn’t believe he lived here sometimes. Having grown up in a rather small town in Northern England, where the most exciting thing was the bakery he used to work in as a young teen or maybe the fun graffiti on some of the walls downtown, living in NYC always seemed a bit unrealistic to think of. But this was always a dream of his. To be in one of the biggest cities in the United States and doing what he loved the most.

“It’s snowing?” Y/N’s voice full of irritation catches Harry off guard. He turns around to see her standing in the threshold between his kitchen and living room. That purple robe, which would be making an appearance in his dreams he’s sure of, is back on her now clean body while the towel he had given her is wrapped around her hair atop of her head.

“You don’t like the snow?” Harry questions, both of his brows raised high at how off he was about his instinct of her loving the snow.

“No, I mean, yes I do,” she shakes her head slightly, “I just don't like driving it in. New York drivers already freaking suck and the moment snow starts falling it’s like they forget how to drive altogether.” Y/N explains, crossing her arms at her chest.

“It’s the same in London, nearly got into a few accidents in my early years of driving thanks to it,” Harry reveals. Y/N smiles at the knowledge about himself he had let slip, regardless of how irrelevant it is.

“Anyways,” she sighs, “thank you for letting me barge in here and use your shower.”

“It’s no problem, really,” Harry assures her.

“No seriously, you saved me a lot of trouble.”

Harry’s chest swells at her words, mirroring her smile as he stuffs his hands into the front pocket of his trousers and leans back against the edge of the counter. Y/N takes this time to look over Harry’s outfit. He’s got on a cream collared ribbed t-shirt, a beaded necklace adorning his neck, a pair of brown pants that flare out and nearly hid his white sock covered feet. He doesn't dress like the men Y/N sees day to day. It's different, kind of old school, but she likes it. Suits him, she thinks, despite the fact that she barely knows him.

“You’ve got to drive somewhere?” Harry questions, unsure if he’s prying.

“Yeah, JFK unfortunately,” she frowns.

“That’s going to be a nightmare,” Harry says.

“Thanks for the reminder, yeah,” Y/N teases him while fighting back the smile pulling at her mouth.

“Sorry, I just meant that it’s sort of a long drive and airport terminals are a pain, that's all.”

“I’m just bugging you. It most definitely is going to be a nightmare,” Y/N agrees with a chuckle, “and I’m going to be late if I don’t hurry.” She adds while jabbing a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of her own apartment. Harry nods and notices how her robe’s a bit looser than before as she drops her arms and it falls a few inches down her shoulder - exposing more of her soft looking skin. Harry has to look away and walk towards his front door with Y/N before his imagination gets the best of him.

Harry unlocks the door and holds it open for Y/N to walk out of his home. He liked having her in his space. Harry internally curses himself for yet another intimate thought about his neighbour fogs up his mind. Just as she steps over the threshold of his apartment, Y/N spins on her heels quickly and reaches up with both hands to grab the twisted up towel around her hair. Harry nearly comes undone right then and there. The sight of her wet hair falling down effortlessly around her freshly washed face causes Harry’s mouth to feel dry suddenly. But as she makes the move to reach up, pulling it off of her head, and then holding out the towel in front of her, all of this causes her robe to fall even more off of her shoulders. Now both of her shoulders were fully exposed for him to see. Which Y/N notices right away and blushes, rushing to try and readjust herself, then only holding the towel with one hand while she bares her other arm over her chest to keep the robe from falling open completely.

“Nearly stole your towel,” Y/N breathes out.

She’s distracted by how her robe is slipping apart and how Harry’s eyes are falling with it. Harry clears his throat and takes the towel from her, giving her a chance to fix her robe, and he leans against his door for support as his head spins from the scene he has played out in his head. Her robe falling apart, seeing the swell of her breasts, how her nipples must look. He imagines they’re hard from the chill in the hallway, pebbling into little buds. Then he’s imagining how he’d pull her back into his apartment, kissing and touching all over her skin till she’s left breathless and begging for more.

“Thanks,” Harry says and drops his arm to hold the towel down at his side.

“I owe you one,” Y/N states, “for letting me use the shower,” she adds. She’s not sure what else he would think she’s talking about, but she just felt the need to clarify. And she really needed to get back to her own apartment and finish getting ready. “See you around, Harry,” she says with a smile before walking away and hurrying into her home.

Harry thinks of how he should've wished her a safe flight, or even said goodbye. But instead he heard her door shut and followed suit by closing his own. Harry walks into his living room - discarding the towel on the back of his large arm chair, before moving his acoustic guitar from where it was laying on his couch and taking a seat. He then reaches for his cell phone that was left on the coffee table. Opening his contact, he finds the building's maintenance number and calls them.

“Hey Phil, how are you doing?... Good, I’m good yeah, uh, I’m just calling because the water in 602 isn’t working...Yeah Y/N, she actually had to leave in a bit of a rush, so I just wanted to make sure someone got in there as soon as possible to check it out,” Harry explains the situation to the building’s head maintenance man. “I’m not entirely sure when she’ll be back home, maybe you could give her a quick call and double check... Just being a friendly neighbour, Phil… Thanks Phil, have a good day and say hi to Georgia and the kids for me… Bye.”

Harry hangs up the phone and sets it back down onto the table, looking at the open notebook beside it. He hadn’t written anything all morning. Just had a few good cords stuck in his head. Harry picks up the guitar once more and plays the cords.

“Tangled wet hair, soft silk skin, looking so good it should be a sin,” Harry sings softly. It’s not his best and it’s not even that good, if he’s honest with himself. But it seems that Y/N sparked some inspiration inside of him. He grabs his pen, and starts scribbling down the words that now flow through his mind. Finishing with writing ‘Plush Purple Robe’ in capital letters before dropping the pen and going back to strumming the guitar.

He wrote nearly an entire song, thanks to how Y/N looked in that damn bathrobe standing in his apartment, and he just knew this would result in some teasing words from his friends when he brought it into their studio session next week.

Y/N was tired and her third Starbucks of the day wasn’t helping her out at all. She brings a hand up to cover yet another yawn that escapes her. Her eyes feel heavy, drooping as she blinks slowly a few times at her screen. She feels as though she might doze off if it wasn’t for the loud bang of the mail cart smacking against the elevator doors signalling it’s arrival for the day. It jolts her upright once again and she takes another big gulp of coffee, and sends a prayer up above, before she begins clicking away again at her laptop trying to finalize her schedule for the upcoming month of December.

Fittings, photoshoots, buyers meetings, and more fittings, there was rarely any free time in the first two weeks of the month. But thankfully her boss isn’t a complete Grinch and gave her minimal work during the last two weeks. Plus Y/N really did love her job. She lived for the magic world of fashion. The way her bustling office just meant that the designer’s creations were coming to life as A list celebrities and New York's elite fell in love with the pieces she’s gone through lengths to get for them.

She also loved Christmas just as much, if not more, as her job. Even thinking about everything she was looking forward to this holiday season made her feel all giddy inside now. Growing up in the city meant she knew the thrill of skating in Central Park and seeing the Rockefeller Christmas tree being lit up. Her smile was as bright as the lights. She loved going to the annual Christmas markets that were held; walking around with hot chocolate in her hands as she browsed the many homemade soaps and ornaments, and even clothing too. Y/N even enjoyed shopping at the Macy’s down the street and gasping at their holiday displays, and found herself buying a few too many decorations for her home while there. Over the past few days - with any free time she had off work - she had gone into full blown decorating mode in her apartment. It was like Santa’s village and it filled her with so much joy as she set everything into its rightful place in her new home, smiling from ear to ear at the twinkling lights and tinsel lining the perimeter of every room.

“Earth to Y/N,” her co-worker, Sammy, sings while leaning back in his desk chair to try and make eye contact with her.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, zoning back into reality and turning her own chair away from her desk that was up against the large floor to ceiling windows.

“Daydreaming about that hot new neighbour of yours?” Sammy teases her with a smug look on his face. Y/N rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest.

“No, I was not,” she says, “I’m regretting telling you about him already,” she adds. Sammy returns the eye roll.

“There’s no shame in having some eye candy as a neighbour you know,”

“Yeah there is when-“

“Y/N!” Her name suddenly being yelled across the room cuts her sentence off and makes Sammy and herself look over to where it came from. They both see their boss, Amanda, standing in the doorway of her office with both hands up in the air and a look of annoyance across her face. Y/N’s watch vibrates just on time to remind her of her meeting with Amanda. She’s always at least five minutes early; suppose daydreaming about the holidays - not her hot new neighbour - had put her behind schedule a bit.

“Better not keep her waiting,” Sammy says as he rolls his chair back over to his own desk while Y/N closes her laptop, taking it and a notebook with her quickly before slipping her feet back into her black heels. She always took them off when she sat at her desk to give her poor feet a break. As she broke into a speed walk across the office space, nearly avoiding the mail cart, she internally went over what today's meeting entailed.

“Sorry Amanda,” Y/N apologizes as she steps into the office, closing the glass door behind her quietly.

“It’s alright, you’re rarely even a few minutes behind that schedule of yours, so I was more surprised than anything,” Amanda states as she smooths her dress out and takes a seat at her desk. Y/N takes a seat in the chair across her desk, setting her laptop on her lap and then the notebook on top of it while she keeps her favourite pen in hand. It had a cheesy Christmas sweater snowflake pattern on it, which Y/N had bought a whole set for her and Sammy at Target last week.

“I wanted to quickly talk about your time with Miss Woods a couple days ago,” Amanda says, referring to one of the clients from North Carolina that had visited recently. “She said you showed her great hospitality and were a true New Yorker in her eyes, her words exactly.” Amanda gives Y/N a proud smile. “So, great job. She ended up purchasing those Gucci purses we had bought in hopes she’d like them even though she didn't ask for them. All thanks to you putting her in such a good mood, really.”

“Well she was a blast to be around, age really didn't slow her down,” Y/N and Amanda share a laugh. “She turned up my radio every time we got in my car, ordered doubles at dinner and brunch, and even talked about boy issues with me. It was a great time,” Y/N explains while adjusting herself in her seat and crossing a leg over the other casually.

“I think it’s your energy. Your love for this city can be infectious sometimes Y/N,” Amanda says. Y/N’s lips pull up into a smile at her words, they made her feel warm inside.

“Thank you,” she says softly with a nod.

“Now, onto what’s happening over this next week, let’s see how our schedules look,” Amanda starts as she opens her large planner than was always either on her desk or brought home in her large Louis Vuitton purse.

“I got an email from the lovely Mrs. Archibald this morning,” Y/N states. Amanda shakes her head as her face twists up at the mention of one of their bigger clients who happens to be married to the richest man in New York City. It’s just too bad she’s a real bitch sometimes because her attitude could make doing their job a bit harder at times. But Amanda and Y/N loved a challenge, and Mrs Archibald was just that. “She has a last minute dinner party tomorrow and she needs the newest item from Gucci that we can find immediately,” Y/N explains.

“Shit, our new stuff from Gucci doesn’t come in till next Monday,” Amanda curses, eyes roaming around her desk as if the answer to her problem would pop up somewhere.

“I know, which is why I went ahead and called Greg at the store on Fifth and Fiftieth, he said they just got a handful of exclusive holiday pieces early and would gladly have one of us pick a couple items up for Mrs Archibald,” Y/N says. Amanda’s sour look fades instantly and is replaced with a wide smile.

“What would I do without you, honestly!” Amanda exclaims. “Head over to Gucci after lunch today, and then we’ll get Mrs Archibald in first thing tomorrow.”

“Will do,” Y/N says while jotting down her after lunch plans onto a blank page in her notebook.

“How’s your influencer work going for you?” Amanda asks, her eyes on her planner in front of her instead.

“It’s been good, getting closer to five hundred thousand every day. I think the holidays will push me over the mark soon enough,” Y/N states.

“Great, make sure you’re getting close up shots of the dresses Greg shows you. Tease the people of what an exclusive holiday gown looks like,” Amanda suggests. Y/N smiles and jots down the note.

Having an audience was never the goal for Y/N. In fact, she thought of suspending her Instagram account all together once she got the promotion at work. She was worried that it would cause a conflict of interest, but Amanda and the rest of the team saw it as a plus. Having so many people follow Y/N’s life, being interested in what she’s interested in, wanting to get their hands on what she had, all lead to good publicity for the company. It even got them a few A list celebrities because of her account as they saw the company’s name in her bio, which led to contacting the company about setting some fittings up.

And with that set up, they settle into the rest of their itinerary for the week, making note of who needed to be involved with what, and who would be coming into their offices. Jennifer freaking Aniston was scheduled for a fitting this Friday and Y/N was praying she made it back from picking up an order of Louis Vuitton scarfs in time to see her in her custom grown that their team's seamstresses had been working tirelessly on with Prada’s team.

By the end of her and Amanda’s meeting, it was time for lunch. Sammy was waiting by her desk with his black Gucci backpack in hand that Y/N was sure held a Kardashian sized salad. Y/N was glad she meal-prepped teriyaki chicken and rice, so she didn’t have to eat yet another salad seeing as Sammy had gotten her into the over sized salad eating last month; she’s had enough of it.

“I’ve gotta head over to Gucci on Fifth Ave after,” Y/N states with a smile as her and Sammy walk into the conference room that they used for lunch sometimes, shielding themselves away from work a bit - even if the walls were glass and they could still see everyone working around them.

“Lucky bitch,” Sammy grumbles, “Greg always hooks you up with some free pieces when you go there, I swear.”

“Hey it’s only been a few items, nothing crazy,” Y/N defends herself before taking a bite of her lunch.

“Oh I’m sorry, two rings and a pair of tights are nothing crazy? Every other influencer would kill someone for those tights. Firstly, they’re so cute. And secondly, those rings cost my monthly rent.”

“I’m not complaining about any work perks. Maybe you could come with and get to know Greg a bit and get your own ring or two?”

Sammy chews his mouth full of salad, “no thanks, it’s so freaking cold out there. I’ll stay inside where it’s warm,” he says.

“Then don’t complain when I get another pair of tights and you don’t,” Y/N scowls playfully.

“I’d look so much better in those tights, you can’t even deny it,” Sammy says and pokes his fork at Y/N. She raises her hands up in surrender.

“Oh I wouldn’t dare to deny it, ever,” she smiles. They eat a few bites in silence. Y/N starts to feel a bit more energized by the protein she’s eating, thankfully. She now had a long journey to the Gucci store and back as well as a ton of emails to filter through too - which she’s sure will follow her home till the late hours of the night.

“What are you planning to wear for the Christmas office party?” Sammy chimes in, his eyes still on his phone.

“I don’t even know,” Y/N sighs and brings up her Pinterest app on her phone. “I found this outfit and am dying over it every day but I really should just find something in my closet and restyle it, I'm getting more broke by the day.”

“Blame your excessive christmas shopping habits,” Sammy deadpans while glancing at her phone screen.

“I’m aware of why I'm broke, thank you,” she deadpans back, narrowing her eyes at him. “Maybe Greg will have it in his heart to lend me a special piece for the party,” Y/N taunts Sammy with a smile on her face.

“Shut up,” he groans. Y/N laughs and is just about to shut her phone screen off when a phone call comes through from her apartment building maintenance.

“Hello?” She answers. “Hi Phil… Oh that’s awesome news thank you so much for getting it fixed so soon… Yes, I’m glad Harry called in about it right away too…” Y/N notices how her friend's eyebrows fly up at the mention of Harry’s name. “Lovely, thanks again Phil… Have a great day… Bye,” she hangs up the phone and sets it on the table in front of her.

“What did Harry do now?” Sammy questions without a second to spare. Y/N rolls her eyes, but can’t stop herself as she smiles.

“He called in about the water in my apartment like right after I made a mad dash out of his place to go pick up Mrs Woods in time. I hadn't even thought of calling about it and then I got a call on my way to the airport from the head maintenance guy saying Harry told him about it and asked for verbal permission to enter my apartment while I was out,” Y/N explains to him. She was still shocked by Harry’s kindness. Not only did he offer his shower to her, but he then got hers check out that same day. She probably wouldn't have called about it till the next day, if she was lucky to have any free time to stop by her house between entertaining Mrs Woods.

“What a neighbourly thing to do,” Sammy says smugly.

“Shut up, he’s just a nice guy.”

“Mhmm,” Sammy hums while stabbing his salad again for another bite.

The two of them continue to enjoy their lunch break and catch up on what’s been going on in the office. Their fellow associate Kate was trying to sleep with the mail cart boy. He seems freshly twenty one, if that. Just seven years younger than Kate, but she’s a well known cougar - it’s been a thing for, like, two years now. And Julianne was sick again, for the third time in two months. That was the extent of the office drama, sadly. Y/N packs up her bag with her left over lunch, notebook, and laptop before heading back to her desk with Sammy to get her coat and bundle up to brace the cold weather.

At least it wasn’t snowing.

The snow is coming down like a blizzard, making it hard for Harry to see in front of him. It was a colder day, his weather app had called for cloudy skies and a chance of some light flurries - but that all changed in a split second and had Harry racing home from the coffee shop a few blocks away. He’s just praying his notebook full of new song ideas, based off his people watching this afternoon that’s now in his tote bag, doesn't get wet in the short trip he has to walk. Just as he’s about to turn left down the last block till his building, he sees a young woman struggling to walk along the sidewalk in her heels just in front of him. She’s carrying a large beige garment bag, having it folded over her arm as she tries to maneuver around the busy sidewalk and everyone is rushing to get out of the storm. Harry’s just behind her now, that’s when he recognizes the jacket and scarf.

“Y/N?” Harry says, trying to not startle her. But of course, as Y/N turns around to look behind her at whoever had just called out her name on the busy streets of New York, she slips.

“Oh my god!” She squeals, trying to keep the garment bag up so it doesn’t damage the dresses inside, but that means she doesn’t have any hands to throw out to catch herself. Harry sees her begin to fall and reaches out without hesitation. “The bag,” she says, trying to get Harry’s attention to saving the garment bag rather than her. But of course he manages to wrap his arms under hers and hold her upright, standing straight to get her back on her feet once more.

“Shit, I’m sorry, shouldn’t have scared you like that,” Harry says.

Y/N squints at him through the thick snowflakes, he’s standing so close though that she doesn’t have troubles staring into his enchanting eyes. She smiles, adjusting the dresses and her bag before motioning to their apartment building only a couple blocks away. “Let’s get out of this snow storm,” she suggests.

“Right,” Harry agrees and lets her start the walk - that way he can stick close behind in case those death heels of hers cause her to slip again.

Y/N regrets her decision of wearing heels so much right now. She’s sure her cheeks are still red from embarrassment of nearly falling on her ass in front of so many people. Harry’s seen in her purple bathrobe, which is already embarrassing, but falling in heels in this snow storm would’ve only added to her list of making a fool of herself in front of him.

When she arrived at Gucci it was just cloudy, but then after nearly two hours inside the store - mostly chatting with Greg and his associates, she walked outside into the blizzard. Her office was too far of a walk, she knew getting a cab or an Uber during the storm would just be a nightmare and she didn’t want to wait around. There was no way she was going to risk taking the subway while carrying the garment bag that said Gucci right on it and have some lowlife steal thousands of dollars of designer clothes from her. So, she went with the most obvious option of getting these pieces out of the snow storm and headed to her apartment building that was only a few blocks away, thankfully.

“Thanks for saving me back there,” Y/N says with a sigh as Harry uses his key to let them into the building. They both brush the snow off themselves as they walk across the lobby and to the elevator. “I would've been dead if this fell into a puddle or something,” she states while lifting the garment bag.

“Does that say Gucci?” Harry asks, eyebrows raised as he looks at the label on the bag.

“Yeah, I just had to pick up a few things for work,” Y/N explains vaguely. Harry has followed Gucci on Instagram for years, he loves their pieces and finds what they make to be so wonderful. He wishes he had the money to spend on a shopping trip there and yet here is his neighbour - who he may or may not be crushing on - with a large garment bag with Gucci items inside. “I can’t even imagine what Mrs Archibald would've done if I messed these up, god she'd have a fit,” Y/N says with a chuckle, looking at the floors lighting up as the elevator moved.

“Your boss?” Harry questions.

“No, a client, super rich and super bitchy,” Y/N answers, emphasizing both times she says super to really get her point across. She moves the garment bag from one arm to the other, leaning back against the elevator wall.

“Client? What kind of work do you do?” Harry tries to ask casually, not trying to seem creepy or invading in any way.

Y/N smiles, “I’m a part of the, oh so lovely, fashion industry.”

“You don’t like it?” Harry questions, eyebrows furrowed together.

“No, I do,” she corrects him.

The elevator opens then, Harry motions for Y/N to exit first as he had before. She smiles and walks down the hall to her apartment. Just as she fishes her keys from her coat pocket she turns back and looks at Harry when he walks past her. “I owe you, again, for saving my ass, literally from falling,” she says. Harry stops walking and looks at her, she smiles and tilts her head to the side. “And for calling the maintenance guy for the issues with my water,” she adds. Seems Phil spilled the beans, Harry thinks.

“I um, I wasn’t sure how long your trip was, and I just thought it’d be the nice thing to do by making sure they could get it fixed as soon as they could,” Harry explains.

“I actually didn’t go on a trip, I just had to pick someone up from the airport. But regardless it was very nice to know you thought of it for me. So thank you, I owe you, Harry,” she says again, giving him yet another one of her dreamy smiles. Harry’s heart did a little pitter patter in his chest as he looked over her face, taking in how her wispy hairs were wet from the snow that had melted on her head and how her eyes seemed to sparkle under the dim lighting of the hallway. But her lips, he’s been imagining those lips for two days now. Along with that purple bathrobe being on his floor again - his bedroom instead of the bathroom though.

“How about dinner?” Harry blurts out. Y/N had turned back to her door, having it unlocked and open as he had fallen into one of his daydreams about her. She pauses mid step and looks back at where he had stood still, her eyebrows are furrowed together as she thinks he misheard him. Oh shit, abort! Abort! Backtrack and say nevermind before she flat out rejects you, Harry thinks while he waits for her response.

“I, uh, I,” Y/N stops her stuttering and closing her eyes for a moment. She lets out a sigh and opens her eyes again to meet his nervous stare. “I have to hang this up, and change these shoes first,” she says.

“Of course,” Harry nods.

Y/N ponders over it for a moment before coming to the realization that the weather outside was truly frightful and they shouldn’t go out anywhere. “Honestly we shouldn’t go back out there. What if I just ordered something in and you came over? You like pizza?”

“Love it,” Harry smiles. Y/N nods and opens her door further, stepping in to survey the state of her apartment. It’s not messy, thank God. She had time this morning to put away her clean laundry that had taken up her couch over the past few days. There’s a couple hoodies draped over the back of the couch though, a half full glass of water on the coffee table and her kitchen has a pile of dirty dishes beside the sink that she hadn’t gotten to putting in the dishwasher yet. She quickly bends down to put away the few pairs of shoes that were kicked off in whatever direction they went, and turns on the two light switches by the door to light up her living room and hallway.

“Well, come on in,” she says as she turns back to Harry. He smiles as she lets out a deep breath and opens her front door for him.

He should’ve guessed that it would look like Santa had thrown up in her apartment. It was traditional, which Harry loved opposed to the new all white or all gold themes some people went with, but there was a lot of it. A red and green checkered throw blanket over the back of her grey couch, a decent sized tree filled with lights and tinsel and ornaments that all matched, a family of snowmen in one corner of her living room, and many little vintage looking nicknacks along her tv stand, and few shelves around the space. Not to mention the priceless looking tiny christmas village that was set up on top of the desk by her front door, fake snow laid on top to really pull it all together. So much Christmas, and he was only looking in one room. He imagined this festive feeling went throughout her entire home.

“It kind of seems like a lot whenever someone new sees all of my Christmas crap,” Y/N says, breaking Harry’s stare away from her living room and back to her now. She had hung up the Gucci bag on the closet door to her left, and had slipped out of her shoes and was now undoing the buttons of her coat. Her eyes are on the decorations around them though, looking unsure as she takes it all in.

“It’s lovely, honestly, not crap at all,” Harry assures her. Y/N turns back to look at him and mirrors his smile.

“I just have a big soft spot for the holidays, I can’t help myself from buying four Christmas themed throw pillows if they make me feel all warm inside,” she explains, motioning to the couch that did in fact have four pillows on it.

“If it makes you happy, you don’t have to have any reason for buying ‘em.”

“I suppose so,” Y/N hums, finally taking off her coat and hanging it up.

Harry quickly takes his off too as she reaches for it, to hang it beside hers. He gives her a small thanks and then takes his shoes off, setting them beside hers . Y/N has walked into the threshold to the left that led to her kitchen. He notices the tinsel hanging from the beam and smiles before taking a quick peek into her kitchen. As he guessed, it’s all decked out in Christmas stuff too. Towels and nicknacks that seem to replace everyday things like salt and pepper shakers and her soap dispenser that was spaced like a snowman.

“I’ll order a pizza right away. Hopefully this weather won’t slow them down. Have you ever eaten at Sal’s down the street?” Y/N questions.

“Tons,” Harry says. He leans against the threshold to the kitchen and watches as Y/N sets her purse on her small kitchen table and fishes through it for her cell phone. She’s got this crease between her brows as she can’t seem to find it, but it instantly goes away and is replaced with a smile as the iPhone is in her hands.

“Do you like anything on your pizza?” She asks, eyes on her phone screen and she brings up the menu. She typically just gets a cheese, sometimes spices it up with a vegetarian pizza cause she likes the green peppers and red onions.

“I’m actually a vegetarian,” Harry states. “Well, I eat fish on occasion so I guess I’m a pescetarian.”

“Oh cool,” Y/N says, looking up to see Harry’s watching her from the space between her kitchen and living room. The way he’s leaning against the small space of wall, arms crossed at his chest and head tilted to the side - he looks good. He’s dressed in a pair of beige trousers, straight and baggy as his last ones were too, and has a white tank top tucked into the waistband while he layered with a fun patterned button up shirt. She can’t quite make out what is printed on the shirt, but the little squares seem to each have a picture in them.

“Where did you get that shirt?” Y/N can’t stop herself from asking, the fashion lover in her wanting to know.

Harry glances down at the short sleeved shirt on his body, then shrugs, “I think I thrifted it back home in England a few years back,” he says.

“I like it,” she says, then brings up one shoulder in a shrug to make it seem more casual. It’s not weird to compliment your neighbours clothing, Y/N thinks as she glances back down at her phone. “I’m going to order a cheese and they have a great vegetarian pizza too that I like,” she tells Harry while punching in her order on her delivery app.

“Yeah, I’ve had it before, it’s pretty great,” Harry agrees. Y/N can’t help as her body reacts to how low and slow Harry’s voice is. How she gets small chills throughout her body, as if threatening to pebble goosebumps along her arms, and how her mind feels foggy almost as she listens to him speak. She rolls her lips into her mouth and stuffs her phone into the pocket of her fitted black pants. He could tell her the most pointless story and she would let him, just to hear his voice and that accent that went with it. Moving to her fridge, she finds the bottle of red she had opened last night. It’s such a normal thing for her to have a glass or two after work that she doesn’t even think of her guest. He might not even like wine.

“Do you drink?” Y/N asks, looking over her shoulder to see Harry still in the same spot but his hands now in the front pocket of his trousers.

“What are we drinking?” He asks with a smile.

Y/N smiles back, as she always does, and reaches for the wine she had her eye on. “I opened this bottle of wine last night, it’s red. Would you be interested in a glass?” She asks, holding the bottle up for Harry to see.

“I’d love a glass, thanks.”

“Perfect,” Y/N nods and sets the bottle down on the counter beside her fridge. “You can get comfortable on the couch, I’ll bring our drinks in a moment.”

“Sounds good,” Harry nods. With one final glance up her body as she reaches high in her cupboard for two wine glasses for them, he shakes his head and turns around. He has to stop checking her out, he has no idea if she’s into him or not. She’s simply being a nice neighbour, and here he was, fancying her so much he’s checking her out like some horny teenager.

Harry runs a hand through his hair, walking around the back of the couch to take a seat on the corner furthest from where the Christmas tree lit up Y/N’s living room. He really did like all of her joy that she’s put into decorating her home. There’s no doubting her love for the holiday, not a single space feels like it was forgotten as she must have spent all day setting it up. He especially liked the framed photo on the side table to his right, where there was also a rather plain lamp and a Santa spaced coaster too. Inside the frame was a small child who he knew immediately was Y/N. There was no mistaking that smile of hers even at such a young age. She’s sitting on a man’s lap, a man dressed as Santa, but it’s truly the most realistic mall Santa he’s even seen. Harry thinks back to his home in that moment, imagining the many photos of him and his older sister with many variations of mall Santas that must be littering his mum’s house by now. Truthfully, many of them didn’t leave the shelves during the year.

“Here you go,” Y/N says as she holds out a wine glass nearly half full of red wine to Harry. He takes it from her, his fingers brushing hers for a moment and sending those childish tingles through his body.

“Thanks,” he nods and brings the glass to his lips to have a taste. If he wouldn’t be so infatuated by Y/N, he would have told her that he typically didn’t drink red wine. He typically doesn’t drink at all, except for the occasional night out with his mates. But he saw that look on her face that said ‘I need a glass or two’ and he couldn’t say no, knowing it’d make her feel awkward and end up not having a glass herself.

Y/N lets out a long sigh as she takes a seat on the other side of the couch, relaxing alongside Harry as if they aren’t complete strangers. He liked that she felt comfortable around him. She did in fact enter his apartment the other day in a bathrobe and use his shower after all. After she takes another long sip of wine, she sets it down on a matching Santa coaster that sits on the coffee table - Harry notices now that she had brought the bottle of wine with her too.

“Long day?” He questions. Y/N nods, tucking her legs under her as she gets comfortable on the couch beside him. She clears her throat softly before answering him.

“Uh, yeah, work’s just been a lot lately and I’m actually looking forward to some time off,” Y/N says, running a hand through her hair, and then leans her arm on the back of the couch. Harry watches her movements, bringing his glass of wine to his lips to have a small sip, which he notices she watches him do. He likes her eyes on his lips, he thinks before turning his body slightly and setting his wine on the side table. When he turns back and looks her way he notices the slightly tint of pink flushing over her cheeks. Harry fights the tug at his lips to smile at how she seemed to catch on that he caught her staring at his lips.

“That’s always the worst, feeling as if you’re counting down till the days off,” Harry exclaims.

“I typically don’t, to be honest. I love my job,” Y/N states. “It’s my career so I better,” she adds with a chuckle.

“So you’ve already found your career at such a young age then, that’s awesome. Have you always known you wanted to be involved in the fashion industry?” Harry asks, his eyebrows pulled together as he does find himself very curious of how she herself a career so young.

“First off, twenty four is really starting to not feel young anymore so let's not label me as a youngster or anything alright-“

“Um, twenty four is young but okay,” Harry cuts her off with a playful look on his face. Y/N rolls her eyes and chooses to ignore his teasing. He’s always hung out around people older than him and typically dated women older too. But Y/N doesn't seem young. From what he’s seen from her, she doesn’t fit the mold of any twenty four year olds he’s known before - most being rather rude and partying their youth away while it’s obvious that Y/N worked hard during those years. Y/N looks as though she's got the whole world figured out already, and he admires that a lot.

“And secondly, yeah, I guess I sort of did know, not at first, of course, but it was always an interest of mine,” Y/N states, bringing Harry back to their conversation.

“What did you want to be when you were a youngster then?” He questions, using her choice of words back at her which makes Y/N chuckle. She shakes her head and looks up at the ceiling for a moment as she falls back into memories of her childhood. She remembers being emotionally attached to a pair of plastic pink princess slippers and how she slept in her matching tiara for nearly a year before her mom put a stop to her fantasy.

“I wanted to be a princess-“

“Me too,” Harry says.

“Stop interrupting me,” Y/N laughs and reaches across the couch to smack his arm. Harry's head feels light, his cheeks hurt from grinning at Y/N so much. He hasn’t felt like this in quite a while. Being able to have a light conversion with a pretty girl. How she makes him smile and laugh so easily too, it’s a really nice feeling. “But you’d make a much prettier princess for sure-“

“Not at all,'' Harry disagrees, managing to cut her off yet again. She glares at him but can’t help the smile that's still on her face.

“Anyways, I wanted to be a princess and then I wanted to be one of Santa’s elves-”

Harry chuckles, “of course,” he says as he’s not so surprised to hear her say so - seeing as it looked like Santa’s village inside her apartment.

Y/N chooses to ignore his short interruption this time and continues on. “But then as I got older and got ahold of the internet, I wanted to be a model cause I thought it was the most glamorous thing, but I wasn't as beautiful or skinny as Candice Swanepoel so that was out of the question-“

“This is the last time I'll interrupt you I promise,” Harry says, Y/N presses her lips tight together and gives Harry another look as if to say yeah right. “But I cannot let you sit here and say you aren't pretty or skinny enough to be a model, Y/N, because you are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen and your weight is nothing to ever question,” Harry pauses as he looks down at the sofa between them, realizing that he had said all that out loud. He was slightly embarrassed as he’s not sure how she’d take her neighbour saying all that to her.

My heart needs to calm down like now, Y/N thinks as she wets her lips and fidgets with her own hands as she watches Harry. “Y/N, don’t ever think less of yourself,” he adds in a gentle voice that sends chills down her spine.

Y/N doesn't respond right away, because honestly she's speechless. No one has ever said something so kind and so genuine to her. Sure, she’s gotten compliments from people, but the way Harry immediately stopped her from talking poorly of herself had made her stomach stir and her heart race. They had only just met, only had a few interactions - they were all good, great even - but Harry wasn’t like most people she’s met before and she’s beginning to realize that. She looks up to see Harry's watching her, his green eyes staring back at hers. Something switches in the air between them as Harry feels like he should lean in. Should he lean in? Would she want that? Does she want him?

“Thanks,” she smiles, bringing Harry back to their conversation. She clears her throat and sits up straight again, flipping her hair over her shoulders and snuggling into the couch some more. “If I ever feel down about myself again, I’ll be sure to knock on your door and demand you shower me in compliments,” Y/N teases.

“I’d be honoured to,” Harry says. There's another beat of silence, but it's not quiet inside his head. All he’s thinking about is how he should've made a move. She felt it too, right? Harry stops himself before he can go too far inside his head again while thinking about Y/N. “I won’t cut in again. Continue from the dreams of being a model - which you’d be a great model, by the way, don't count that one out just yet.”

Y/N smiles again, not even sure if she’s stopped smiling honestly. “Right, well, modeling led me into the world of fashion. Not that I hadn't known about Vogue or any of the high fashion houses since I did grow up in New York; fashion week had always been a highlight for me. But I actually started to look into the other sides of it. Designing wasn't an option, I just didn't feel original enough. So I did some personal assistant stuff during my high school years at fashion week, working behind the scenes at shows.”

Y/N pauses to lean forward and grabs her glass of wine again, needing liquid to coax her throat before she continued. Harry noticed that she was talking so passionately, probably not even realizing how much she was using her hands while speaking or how her eyes lit up at the world she painted for him. “And then I got a scholarship into FIT, the Fashion Institute of Technology. I was lucky enough to get an internship at my current workplace but quickly got offered a position on my graduation day, and now I'm one of our senior associates.”

“And what does your job really entitled to exactly?”

“We do a lot of things, but we’re really a personal shopper and stylist company. Working with many of New York's elite, even some of the east coast’s elite really, as well as celebrities too, which is always fun to see the dress you styled at the Met Gala or the Grammys. I just do a lot of running around, it feels like,” Y/N explains, “like how I had to rush to the Gucci store on Fifth Ave in order to get some pieces for Mrs. Achibald for tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds like a real tough job,” Harry taunts. Y/N returns his smug look and narrows her eyes at him playfully.

“Right, well what do you do then? You always seem to be home, I’m starting to think you don’t even have a job. Maybe you’ve just got a sugar daddy, hmm?” Y/N jokes. Harry lets out a loud laugh, throwing his head back. Y/N laughs with him before taking a sip of her wine that she had almost forgotten about.

“Definitely not a sugar baby, although that would be the dream, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, totally,” Y/N nods in agreement. They both chuckle again. Harry reaches for his wine to take a sip before answering her question for real this time. Blame the wine, he thinks, for any longing looks or laughing too much at her jokes just blame the red wine in his glass.

“I’m actually in the music industry, kind of,” Harry states.

“How are you kind of in the music industry?” Y/N questions curiously, her brows pulled together as she takes another sip of wine.

“I am a studio rat, as people in the industry would call it,” Harry says, Y/N’s face scrunches up at his words utterly confused at the term. “I pretty much live in music studios most of the year. Most of my time is taken up by writing. So I guess I’m a songwriter, but I also make demos for my songs with a few people I’ve grown close with in my studio, so I end up doing some instruments for artists' studio versions of songs. I do a bit of producing too, but I mostly leave that to my buddy, Tom.”

“Wow, that sounds like a really cool job. And here I was jabbering on about my job when you’re a songwriter? That’s so cool,” Y/N repeats, another sip of wine going down her throat as she stares at Harry. His cheeks are starting to turn red, eyes avoiding hers as he fidgets with his rings. “Have you written any songs I’d know?” She asks, trying to get more information out of him.

“Maybe,” Harry shrugs.

“You’re not going to tell me?” Y/N asks, brows pulled together.

“Nope,” Harry shakes his head.

“Shouldn’t you be proud of your work?”

“Of course I am,” Harry says, bringing a crooked finger up to his nose before rubbing it twice. “I just know that my music might not be everyone's favourite.”

Since the beginning of his freelance songwriting career, Harry's always been nervous to show people what he’s poured his heart and soul into, especially to people he’s friends with, or people he likes. What if they hated it? He couldn’t bear listening to the fake “it's great” with an even faker smile. Although he knows people do like his songs, those people were mainly artists that bought his songs and their fans, of course, along with his fellow colleagues. He just doesn't want Y/N to hate his work.

“Well, I'm sure it's brilliant,” Y/N says. “And maybe one day you’ll show me.” She adds with a smile, not wanting to force the subject, over the rim of her wine glass before taking another sip and finishing off the red liquid in one small gulp. She frowns at the empty glass and sets it down on the Santa coaster on the coffee table. “Do you write all the time then?” Y/N asks, bringing her gaze back to Harry’s.

“Pretty much, although I’m in the studio less in December due to it being so close to the holidays. I’ve actually got my last session with my mates just in a few days.”

“Counting down the days till you have some time off?” She asks, referring to what he had said earlier to her.

“Not particularly,” Harry says.

Y/N is about to ask why, but then her phone bings from her pocket. It’s then that she realizes she hadn’t thought of looking at her phone once since sitting down with Harry. She had been so engrossed with their conversation, and feeling a light buzz that she managed to forget about the pizza she ordered. The notification on her screen read that her pizza had arrived at the building, and the delivery person would be here any second. Then her phone starts ringing.

“Hello,” Y/N answers the phone in a sweet voice. Harry has to stop himself from staring, instead finding himself grabbing the red wine that he wasn’t too fond of, and has a few sips as he listens to Y/N talk to, what he assumes, is the pizza delivery. She buzzes them up with one tap on her phone before the call ends. “Our dinner is finally here,” she tells Harry, even though he had gathered as much, but he still smiles in response. She stands from the couch and adjusts her pants by pulling them up slightly. They fit her so bloody well, Harry thinks. “And we are both nearly done with a glass of wine each before we’ve even eaten,” Y/N chuckles as she walks past Harry and to the kitchen to her purse.

While Y/N pays for their food, Harry takes it upon himself to top off her glass of wine. He was content with his last few sips between bites. Y/N sets the two pizza boxes on the coffee table before rushing into the kitchen to grab two plates and some napkins for them. They work together in a comfortable silence to get things set up; both boxes open and Y/N settles back onto the couch before they dig into the large New York slices.

Y/N brings a piece straight from the box to her mouth, once she bites into the greasy food she moans around her mouthful of cheesy pizza. Harry is just about to take his first bite as well but stops just short at the sounds that come from Y/N. He dares to glance her way, throat bobbing as he takes her in. Both eyes closed, her head hanging back and lips turned up into a smile as she chews her food. He watches her swallow, utterly mesmerized by her soft skin moving just slightly. Dear god, Styles, get it together, he thinks as he imagines her swallowing something else.

Y/N opens her eyes at the sound of Harry clearing his throat, turning her gaze to him and seeing him lift his piece of pizza to her in a ‘cheers’ manner. “Thanks again for the meal,” Harry says. There his voice does it again, sounding all low and throaty as it makes chills go down her spine.

“No problem,” Y/N nods. She tries to focus back on eating her food, willing the thoughts in her head to go away. But she can’t stop them from entering her dreams later that night after Harry and her had said their goodbye - Harry noticed her yawn a few times and began to clean up their plates and empty wine glasses while he continued to tell Y/N about his time in school before he was writing songs full time on his way to the kitchen. Y/N watched him from her spot on the couch, smiling at how he didn’t think twice on cleaning up after them. She was pretty sure that’s how her dream started too, but then it led to Harry’s voice whispering in her ear, asking if she’s been naughty or nice this year while they laid in bed. Y/N blames the large glass of wine. One hundred percent she blames the wine.

There wasn’t a more perfect day in the year, Y/N was sure of it, as she sat on a bench in Central Park. It was t-minus three weeks before Christmas Day and she had just gotten off work. The sun was slowly setting in the horizon as she stared at the sparkling snow that covered the ground and trees around her.

“Y/N?”

She turns her gaze away from the skating rink in the distance to see who had called out her name. A smile tugs at her lips as she sees Harry a few feet away. He’s dressed in a long dark coat that reaches to his knees, one which was exposed from a rip in his loose fitting jeans. With his outfit he wore a pair of chelsea boots upon his feet that trudged through the snow. Y/N noticed that he was bundled up with a grey scarf around his neck and a matching beanie upon his head too. She liked how his hair flipped up at the ends, sticking out of the beanie.

It has been almost a week since their pizza night together, and thankfully, those wine induced dreams had stopped after that one night, which to be fair were rather innocent compared to some other dreams she had thanks to too much tequila - regardless, it’s making it much less awkward to face him now.

“Hey,” she greets him as she meets his eyes once more. Harry stops by the bench, motioning at the open space to her left.

“Mind if I sit with you?” He asks. Y/N shakes her head and moves to her right just a bit to make more room for him. “Was going for a stroll, thought I was imagining you sitting here by yourself to be honest.” Harry states.

“New York City can seem rather small some days,” Y/N says with a smile.

“Some days, yeah,” Harry nods. “What brings you out to this lonesome bench in Central Park?” Harry asks, looking out at the scenery before them.

“This,” Y/N answers with a hand out to the park.

“It's rather pretty.”

“Very, and calming. And after my day at the office today, I desperately needed to just sit here by myself and disconnect from the world for a moment.”

“Oh,'' Harry says, bringing Y/N’s gaze away from the couple holding hands across the pond and to him instead. “I'm- I'm sorry if I barged in. I just thought it’d be weird if I didn’t say hi.”

“Oh no, it’s totally okay,” Y/N assures him. “I’ve been out here for a good while now.” As if her body realizes at the same time, she shivers beside Harry.

“Did you want to head home?”

“Not particularly,” Y/N hums. Her eyes falling back to the sights before her. The sky is becoming a soft hue of pinks and oranges before their eyes. It warms her heart despite her entire body is cold.

“How about a cup of hot cocoa?” Harry suggests as he sees the cart serving hot drinks just to their right. An older couple and, what seems to be, their grandchildren are being served steaming cups and candy canes too. That seems like something Y/N would like, Harry thinks as he stands from the bench. He's about to offer his hand but thinks twice about it, sticking both his hands into his coat pockets before he can make a fool of himself. “My treat,” Harry adds with a smile.

“I would love that,” Y/N beams while standing from the bench and falling into step with him.

Harry orders for the two of them as they step up to the small cart. Y/N discreetly takes out her phone and opens her Instagram app, swiping to the right to open her camera before she’s bombarded with notifications. She holds down on her screen to begin filming her pointed Versace boots that she had been gifted from work this winter; they had become a staple as the weather grew colder and the snow kept coming down since they had the thickest heel of all the shoes in her closet. Holding the phone up, she catches half of Harry’s body as she films the hot chocolate cart. His back is to the camera, his large coat and beanie covering any angle she did get of him so she’s not afraid to post the story after adding a quick filter to it and typing ‘pro tip: always get a hot chocolate when you’re feeling chilly in central park’ tagging her location as well before hitting post to her story and feeding her nearly five hundred thousand followers with some content for the first time all day.

“Thank you,” Y/N says softly as Harry hands her a to-go cup without a lid since there’s an abundance of whipped cream on top. Her smile turns into a grin as he also reveals he bought her a candy cane. She gasps and is quick to unwrap it and stick it into her mouth.

“Woah, you’re like a toddler itching for a sugar rush, huh?” Harry teases as they begin walking along the path and away from the cart.

“Candy canes are my weakness,” Y/N states as she pushes it to the left side of her mouth in order to talk more clearly.

“Good to know,” Harry smiles over the rim of his cup before opening his mouth and licking off some of the whipped cream. Y/N has to look away as she’s brought back to her dream.

Shaking her head slightly, she brings her phone back up to her face and it unlocks for her. Since it’s still open on the Instagram camera, she holds out her heaping cup of whipped cream and attempts to take a picture as they walk. The first two turn out blurry, then she stops walking, in hopes it’ll turn out nice before Harry can notice she stopped. Only it doesn’t of course, so she ends up furrowing her brows and sucks harder on the candy cane in her mouth before trying three more times to take the perfect snap.

Suddenly, Harry’s hand is in her shot, a blur over her whipped cream. She gasps and looks up to see his forefinger in his mouth, obviously licking off the bit of whipped cream he managed to steal. She’s surprised he did it, and she can tell he is a bit too, but then she huffs out a short chuckle while her mouth is still agape, which makes Harry grin. He doesn’t think twice as he reaches out to swipes his finger over the sweet cream again.

“Stop stealing my whipped cream!” Y/N glares at Harry as he licks his finger clean once more.

“It’s gonna melt anyways, you're taking so bloody long to drink any of it.”

“I'm busy enjoying my candy cane, jeez,” Y/N rolls her eyes and takes the candy out of her mouth, having forgotten about the picture, her phone screen turns blank. Harry shrugs and reaches forward again to steal more. Y/N is faster this time, and moves her cup away from him while bringing her candy cane up and pointing towards him. “Do it again and I'll stab you,” She warns. Harry throws his free hand up in surrender, but both of his cheeks have those deep dimples showing. I’m beginning to really like those dimples, Y/N thinks.

“You get rather hostile over your holiday treats, hm?” Harry questions, raising a brow before slowly retreating his hand to hold his own hot chocolate with his other. He brings the cup to his mouth with both hands and takes a sip.

“Yes, in fact, I do,” Y/N mutters, looking down at her own cup and notices that the whipped cream is nearly gone now. Suppose Harry was right, she missed her chance to enjoy the extra sweetness.

She takes a few sips as they continue to walk together through Central Park. The sky is beautiful as the sunset is in its full glory with dreamy pinks and purples littering the skies. Y/N debates taking a photo but decides against it as she slips her phone into her pocket. Just as she’s about to return the candy cane back to her mouth, she glances over at Harry and notices just as he brings down his own hot chocolate from his mouth that he’s made a bit of a mess.

She chuckles before saying, “you’ve got a little,” Y/N points to her upper lip, “uh, a whipped cream moustache.” She giggles as Harry pokes the tip of his tongue out and swipes it over his top lip. Y/N chuckles some more and offers him her napkin.

“Thanks,” Harry says before wiping it across his mouth, looking back to her to ask, “did I get it all?”

Y/N finds herself staring at Harry for a few moments longer than it would take to give a simple answer if his face was clean or not. She’s never felt so comfortable around someone before, not even her childhood friends or Sammy honestly. There’s this ease around Harry the few times they’ve been around one another, and it makes her heart swell up in her chest. She rolls her lips into her mouth and inhales deeply through her nose, breaking her gaze away from his face and to the ground. In order to not seem weird or awkward, she looks back up and finds his eyes on her while she nods her head.

“Yeah, you’re good,” she tells him. They start their walk through Central Park once more, heading towards home at a slow pace. Y/N has her candy cane back in her mouth, alternating between it and her hot chocolate before it got too cold. She could live off them both one hundred percent; two of the best things ever invented.

“So, tell me about your day,” Harry says, bringing Y/N out of her own thoughts and meeting his gaze again.

“It was a pretty good day, I guess,” she sighs, “we just have a lot of clients that like to do last minute shopping during the holidays and have some pretty crazy demands, but we want to deliver for them so we bend over backwards to do so.”

“I’m sure that can cause you to be rather exhausted then, yeah?”

“Very,” Y/N nods, “but I’m sure your day was much more interesting than mine, so tell me what kind of songs you wrote today?” Y/N asks with a smile.

Harry chuckles and lets Y/N lead the way to their left on the path home, he wasn’t the most confident with getting around sometimes since he usually stuck to the few places in the city that he was familiar with. While he has learned that Y/N is a New York City Native, he trusts her way direction over his, that’s for sure. He thinks back on what he had done today, including a quick run on the treadmill in the gym in their building that ended sooner than he thought as he got a burst of lyrical inspiration out of nowhere.

“I was in my apartment for most of the morning and a bit of the afternoon, then got in a bit of a rut after writing a new song about love, of course. Then I decided I needed to get out of the house and hope for some inspiration from people watching, which I have done a lot since living here,” Harry explains. Y/N takes a big gulp of her nearly cold drink, leaning to her left to get to the garbage they are passing in order to throw out the empty cup. Harry takes the chance to throw his empty cup out too.

“Do you always write about love?” Y/N asks, not thinking twice if it may be a bit too personal of a question. Harry is taken back at first by how that’s all she got from what he had said, but he only clears his throat and shoves his hands into his pockets now that they are free.

“Mostly, yeah,” he nods, “most relatable thing in life, I suppose.”

“Sometimes, I guess it can be,” Y/N agrees and goes back to sucking on her candy cane. She wonders how many times he’s been in love? How many times has she really been in love? Y/N sighs internally and focuses on her steps, avoiding a puddle by having to step closer to Harry. She sniffles from the cold at the same time and is hit with Harry’s scent - lavender, as it always seems to be how he smells. She still thinks it’s lovely.

The two of them make more casual conversation on their fifteen minute walk home through the busy streets. Harry tells her about an elderly couple he had seen just before seeing her, maybe in their 80s, and looking more in love than he’s ever seen before. He wrote a few things about how they looked before going on his way. Y/N tells him about how her grandparents used to go on walks through the park when she was younger, which then brings them into the topic of grandparents in general. Harry tells her about how his grandpa refuses to retire and how his grandma ends up bugging his mom because of how lonely she is. Y/N is smiling the whole time, loving how he must feel comfortable around her too as he’s able to talk about his family like this. Y/N also yawns many times in their short walk. She’s tempted to invite Harry into her apartment for some wine and pizza again but decides against it and simply gives him a smile and soft goodbye at her door, deciding to get into her night routine earlier than normal due to how she can’t stop yawning.

After hanging up her coat, double checking her door was locked, and slipping out of her boots, Y/N pulled her phone out of her pocket to check out what text she missed while on her walk home. She liked how she wanted to feel so present around Harry, having no want to look at her phone but instead being more interested in his little stories about his grandparents. Her face ID unlocks as she looks at the screen. It’s still on the photo she last tried to take for her Instagram. Harry’s hand was a bit of a blur as he stole her whipped cream off the top of her hot chocolate. There was no way to not know it was Harry’s hand, though, his rings being so unique and noticeable in the photo as well - her favourite being his initials wrapped around his fingers in gold. Some would think it’s maybe a bit narcissistic, but Y/N thought it looked good and really there’s no harm in being a narcissist sometimes right?

Y/N saves the photo but doesn’t post it, deciding to simply keep it for herself instead of letting her many followers see into a small yet sweet moment between her and her newest friend. She could call him that right? They were friends? Y/N did hope that Harry thought of her as a new friend too because she was enjoying this time with him a lot, maybe even a little too much.

It had been another day spent at the cafe down the street for Harry. Marking only one last day off till his final studio time this year, he was itching to get to work in a couple days and see his mates too. Over the almost two weeks, he’s written more than he had expected himself to and he knew he could thank a certain new neighbour, or I guess, a new friend, Harry thinks to himself as he turns towards his apartment building. There was no denying the feeling he got around Y/N. He wanted to become more than friends, eventually, no rush of course - but he couldn’t ignore the feeling he got around her; the butterflies and heart racing nearly every moment together. And he couldn’t forget the constant smiling, which he was doing right now just thinking about her.

Harry walks up to the main doors of his apartment building and notices a man beside the main doors. Harry furrows his brows at him. He didn’t look like some strange man trying to find warmth during the beginning of the evening here in the city that had fallen to freezing temperatures as the first week of December came to an end. In fact, he had a brand new iPhone in his hand and rather expensive looking clothes keeping him warm.

“Hey, did you need inside?” Harry asks the man standing by the intercom system. The man looks up at Harry, eyes narrowing at him. He seems Harry’s age, maybe even a few years older judging by the lines around his eyes. He’s got dark eyebrows which makes Harry think he must have dark hair under the beanie he wore under the hood of his thick winter coat. Harry waits for an answer, staring back into the stranger’s brown eyes.

“Yeah, girlfriends not answering and I know she’s inside,” his voice is low and gruff, he then lifts a Starbucks hot cup up - Harry recognizes the holiday pattern anywhere now since Y/N seems to always have one on her even in quick passing in or out of the building. “Even got me to pick her up this stupid drink on my way too, her fault if it’s cold now I guess.”

“Guess so,” Harry mumbles, kind of put off by the man’s attitude. He decides to give him the benefit of the doubt and holds the door open for it. The man walks in without so much of a thank you. You’re welcome, Harry sarcastically thinks to himself.

They walk together to the elevator in an awkward silence. Once the doors open Harry steps up to the buttons and hits the sixth one, not bothering to ask the man what floor he needs as he steps away. The stranger gives the lit up button a brief look before he’s staring down at his phone. As the elevator moves Harry’s mind wanders off to how he’d assert himself into Y/N’s evening today. Maybe he could make her dinner, then ask if she’d like to walk over to Central Park after because he knows how much she enjoys it there, and when they decide to take a break from walking and find a bench he’d finally get the nerve to make a move - maybe reach for her hand during the walk even. One thing was for sure, he liked Y/N and he needed to buck up and do something about it.

He’s still deep in thought about Y/N when the elevator doors open. The man he let into the building steps out first without even glance at Harry. Typical New Yorker, he thinks. Harry finds himself looking at where Y/N’s apartment door is over the man's shoulder as they walk down the hall, he’s debating just walking right up and asking her to hang out right away. But then the man stops in front of the door that reads 602 - Y/N’s door.

Y/N hears the knock on her front door and blinks rapidly at her laptop screen, unfocusing from her long email that she was to send to her boss, Amanda, within the hour with an update on how the first week of December had gone. She glances at the time and sees it’s nearly four in the afternoon. Took him long enough, she thinks while rolling her eyes and standing from the couch. Just as she’s a few steps away there’s another knock on the door. She sighs and unlocks it, quickly throwing the door open to reveal Mark standing on the other side.

“You are home,” he says, that attitude she knows so well is thick in his voice already. Y/N opens her mouth, about to sass him back, but then she notices a certain tall figure with a mess of brown hair walking behind Mark.

“Harry,” Y/N breathes out, hoping he didn’t even hear it honestly. But he slows his steps and gives her a tight lipped smile once facing her. It’s one she was not familiar with and makes her stomach feel as though it was full of rocks.

“Hey,” he says with a small three finger wave.

“You know this guy?” Mark, her boyfriend, questions. Bringing her eyes from Harry’s green ones and to his brown ones instead. “He was nice enough to let me into this place since you were too busy,” he states.

Y/N tucks her lips into her mouth and looks away from Mark and back to Harry. She knows he’s questioning everything by the look in his eyes. She tried. Well, maybe not hard enough, but she wanted to tell him about Mark, even just casually and quickly. Y/N didn’t intend to give Harry any sort of mixed signals during their times together, she really was just being polite and ended up enjoying being around him so much that she thought there was no harm in making a new friend. But she’d be an idiot to try and deny she felt something more than friendship with Harry.

“Yeah, uh,” she clears her throat and waves a hand between the two young men, “Mark, this is Harry my uh, my neighbour. Harry this is Mark, my boyfriend.”

Well shit, that’s not ideal, Harry thinks as he looks into Y/N’s eyes and prays he heard her wrong. But he knows he didn’t. So, he just takes a deep breath and forces a smile to stay on his face while holding a hand out to Mark, even though it hurt him to be polite to the guy that was dating the girl he’s been crushing on for nearly two weeks now.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Harry says as Mark grasps his hand and shakes it lazily. Shit handshake, he thinks. “I would love to stay and chat but I’ve got some work to get to,” he says quickly after taking his hand out of Mark’s and backing away from the situation towards his own apartment.

Y/N opens her mouth, but the words don’t come out. She just watches as Harry turns on his heels and his posture hunches as he gets to his door and tries to unlock it quickly. Mark is suddenly pushing past Y/N, saying something but she’s too focused remembering the look on Harry’s face just moments ago. She steps back into her apartment and doesn’t look over to where Harry is shutting his own door before closing her own gently.

Really fucked this up didn’t you, Y/N? She thinks as she turns the lock on her door and listens to Mark complain about his day while flinging his belongings around her living room. What is she going to do? What is she going to say? If Harry ever talks to her again, that is. She sighs and closes her eyes before making her way towards where her boyfriend was lounging on her couch, giving him a small smile as he opened his arms for her to sit with him.

“I did miss you these past few weeks while I was away,” Mark says, planting a quick kiss to her hair as she leans into his body - praying he doesn’t question why her heart is beating so fast. She’s sure he wouldn’t enjoy knowing it’s because of her growing feelings for her new neighbour, and seeing the realization in Harry’s face at the fact she wasn’t single kind of hurt to see.

“Missed you too,” she mumbles, lying. Y/N hadn’t thought about her boyfriend all that much these past, almost, three weeks that he was away for a business trip.

“Do much without me?” Mark asks.

Y/N shakes her head, “no, not much at all,” her soft voice replies while she begins to zone out on the wall that was between her and Harry’s apartments, noticing how it made her feel more separated from him now more than ever.

>> part two <<

thanks for reading, please reblog/leave some feedback if you enjoyed it! until next week 😘

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#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #boyfriend!harry #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles concept #harry styles prompt #1dff #cstsyl

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lordoftherazzles · 3 years

Note

Maybe a fic prompt (if you wanna do it)? I was looking at one of your gifs (they're stunning btw) and I was thinking of something like Bilbo admiring the view and saying "This is stunning" and Thorin agreeing but while gazing at the hobbit? This is kinda cliché but I feel it would be very cute. Also your writing is superior, I love it ( ꈍᴗꈍ)ﾉ✿

Ahhh!!! I love this prompt so much @nerdymeatball13 , and I'm sorry it took me a hot second to finish, lots of things piled on me at once but here we are!!

prompt "This is stunning"

word count 1789

relationship(s) thorin oakenshield/bilbo baggins

character(s) thorin oakenshield, bilbo baggins

warnings none

additional notes they're so schmoopy and I love them

-----

The worst was over. The Battle of the Five Armies had been something to both mourn and celebrate. Many lives had been lost, but the good that came from that outweighed the bad. A close scare came with the Line of Durin, but by some miracle or nothing short of divine intervention by Mahal himself, Thorin, Fili, and Kili all managed to pull through. It was a blessing that no one took for granted, especially the victims themselves.

Thankfully, that was several weeks ago. It was still tough for Thorin to be on his feet, but with enough stubborn resistance, he had managed to ward off most of those constantly fussing over his bandaging and stitches. Oin never let him out of bed for more than an hour at a time, but it was more freedom than Thorin had felt ever since he’d been carted back into the mountain with nearly half of his insides trying to spill outside.

This was one of those particular hours that he was allowed to be up and wandering around. He’d set aside all paperwork and kingly duties for the sake of a simple walk in hopes that it might clear his mind. Between recovery and trying to do as much as possible to help in Erebor’s reconstruction both literally and as a power, Thorin felt bogged down. There was little time for much else, and his mind had been growing more and more muddled as the weeks went on. A mind that was constantly in worry of what the spring months might bring as they were growing nearer and nearer.

Bilbo had opted to stay considering the winter months had settled in, which was a smart move versus trying to brave any snowstorm, but it was still up in the air if the hobbit had truly planned to head back west towards his cozy little smial, or if...by chance maybe he wanted to make Erebor his new home. It wasn’t something Thorin brought up. Yes, they had made amends, even more than that, with sweet somethings having been uttered occasionally back and forth, but it wasn’t the picture perfect romance that Thorin had been dreaming about lately.

Love was nice and all, and even better when it wasn’t one-sided, but to remain unknowing as to where it might lead? That was a nightmare in itself. It was a lot for Thorin to think about, and while he didn’t want to pressure Bilbo and flat out ask if he intended to stay or go, it was starting to eat away at the dwarf little by little. It’s what this walk was to help him with. To clear his head and hopefully return to his sickbed with a mind for papers and numbers.

What had led him towards one of the worst places in all of Erebor during this calm walk of his? The ramparts were a miserable place, but it gave you a good view of the stretch of land between Erebor and Dale, and not even Thorin could ignore what a sight it was. Snow covered and untouched, it was hard to imagine the brown and red blood stains that laid beneath it from a war not too long ago.

What he hadn’t expected was for someone else to already be out here and staring just as he wanted to. A head of dark golden curls that Thorin had been trying to clear from his own headspace.

“Bilbo,” The dwarf greeted casually, gaining a small glance from the hobbit as they stood side by side with at least a small gap between them.

“Good morning, Thorin. How are you feeling?” Bilbo was polite as ever as if nothing had changed, and while they were on good terms, didn’t this place...bother the hobbit? At all?

“I’m feeling alright,” No one wanted to listen to Thorin complain about how sore he might be or if he had a bad sleep last night, so he left it at that. Besides, the less whining he did, the sooner Oin would get off his back.

“That’s good. Every day is a little bit better, it seems.”

“Indeed,” It was an awkward conversation all over again. Thorin folded his arms behind his back and just let his eyes drift towards the snow covered land before them. A bit of that snow had collected on the ledges of Erebor’s structure, he could only imagine how lovely it might look from a different angle. “You looked to be deep in thought, is something on your mind?”

Bilbo finally pulled all of his attention away from the scenery and offered Thorin a small wave of his hand. “Oh, just thinking about the Shire. We get snow there too and it’s nice, but...there’s just something about this that’s different.”

Thorin’s heart could have sunk right into the ground right then and there. Bilbo was longing for home, wasn’t he? Those rolling green hills, even in the middle of winter, had to be far better than an ice cold mountain that was barely able to be called a kingdom. Finally deciding to toe the line of truths regarding Bilbo’s intentions, Thorin kept his eyes forward. “I’m sure you’ll be ready for the snow to clear sooner rather than later. It makes for bad travel weather…”

“Hm, it does, but I’m not exactly eager to go anywhere so quickly. You’re just getting back on your feet. Oin can’t handle barking at you to sit still all on his own now, can he?” Bilbo teased, seeming to be in higher spirits than Thorin ever would be on these ramparts, and with the idea of Bilbo’s departure looming in his head.

A small breath of amusement did escape Thorin though, finally removing his hands from behind his back and placing it on the stone before him. “I think I can manage to sit still, but your constant reminders have helped these past few weeks.” His fingers twitched, tapping against the stone in anxiousness that wasn’t overly normal. Considering everything that Thorin had been through though, he supposed he was allowed a little bit of shaky behavior and anxiousness.

“Something’s troubling you,” Bilbo observed. It wasn’t a question, but a fact that was being pointed out far too easily. “What is it?” Placing both hands around one of Thorin’s arms, Bilbo honestly couldn’t get enough of these small gestures of physical contact, even if he was a tad anxious himself when it came to initiating them.

Regardless of the comforting touch around his elbow, Thorin wasn’t sure it did anything to soothe his poor frayed nerves. Those nerves were exposed as soon as Bilbo was able to peg that something was bothering him and the words just started tumbling out. “How can you stand to be here?” Specifically, right in this very spot. “After what happened, how can you stand here and…”

Throw him from the ramparts!

How could Bilbo be here? How could he have forgiven Thorin for the wrongs he had done and a life that had been threatened? How could Bilbo not be whining and clawing at the first opportunity to head back to the safety of the Shire? These were the things that had been bothering Thorin, and being in this exact spot did not help.

“Thorin, you need to stop letting one small incident eat away at you. I’ve forgiven you for all of that, you weren’t yourself…”

“That’s no excuse. I laid a hand on you. You might be able to forgive me by some miracle, but I can’t forgive myself for that day...and now, knowing that you’ll be leaving-”

“Leaving? Who said anything about leaving?” Bilbo huffed, still clutching at Thorin’s elbow with both hands and giving his head a firm shake of annoyance as if he were dealing with a child. “You truly are a dolt sometimes. Handsome, brave and foolhardy to boot, but downright stupid when it counts.”

Thorin wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or annoyed at the backhanded compliments flying his way.

“You’re going to have to learn to forgive yourself because honestly, I’m not going to come up here and have you mope every single time all because you got a little angry and said some things and...that was it. That’s all you did,” When Bilbo put it that way, it sounded far less severe than Thorin thought it was. “And as for leaving? That was...something I wanted to ask you. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, but I do want to stay. Sure, I’ll miss my garden and some other aspects of the Shire but...home isn’t a place, Thorin.” Bilbo slid his hands away from Thorin’s elbow, his fingers lacing with a hand of the dwarf’s and giving it a small squeeze. “You’re my home, and that’s where I want to be if you’ll allow it.”

Thorin stood dumbly, looking towards their linked hands before letting his fingers flex tightly to grip back at Bilbo’s. “Of course…” Having Bilbo stay was all he ever wanted.

“Good, and don’t you worry, we’ll make some better memories here, I’m sure.” Leaning against Thorin’s side with hands still tightly wound together, Bilbo just exhaled a deep sigh as if a great weight had been lifted off of his chest. The same could be said for Thorin.

A ray of light seemed to break through the thick of the gray clouds overhead, illuminating a bit of that freshly fallen snow that laid across the stretch of land as far as the eye could see. It sparkled like a sea of diamonds, and Bilbo couldn’t help the small gasp of wonder that crossed his face. He had seen snow in the sunlight before, but seeing it from way up here? To see so far and wide covered in little glistening crystals? “This is stunning,” He breathed, not paying Thorin much mind who had just been staring at Bilbo since that small gasp escaped his lips.

“Very stunning, indeed.” That look of wonder that Bilbo wore was bright and appealing. More desirable than a treasure hall of gold or a vein of mithril.

Bilbo’s gaze flickered once quickly to start, if only because he wanted to follow Thorin’s gaze to see what the dwarf was looking at as well to deem as stunning, but after a quick double take, Bilbo was blushing fiercely. “You truly are a sappy old thing, you know that?”

“I do.” Pressing a kiss to those dark golden curls, Thorin truly had to believe in what Bilbo had said before. They would make better memories atop these ramparts, and already that seemed to be a reality in the making, but most importantly, he was here to stay.

#the hobbit #thorin oakenshield #bilbo baggins #bagginshield #thilbo #hobbit fanfic #hobbit fic #bagginshield fic #razzywrites #razquests #thank you for the request!

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theinfinitybucky · 3 years

Text

Undercovers (Bucky Barnes x Reader) - Part 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader and Bucky are on an undercover mission as husband and wife, but she hates him and by accident begins a game of “Who Can Fake Better”.

Warnings: none?

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

You sat at the dinner table uncomfortably, eating the shitty hotel served food. What kind of an extravagant hotel was this if the meal was this mediocre? They had a orchestra for this thing, but the food was subpar? Some show. You glanced to Bucky who seemed to have no complaints about the food. Of course, he was practically starved when he was the Winter Soldier. A pang ran through the center of your heart as the though crossed your mind.

The man who sat before you was nothing like the “person” you had met months ago… Before Wakanda, before everything… Before those horrific interactions began. Prior to the days, you had gone at each other in the training room until one of you was bleeding on the floor. Why did it have to turn out this way?

You were staring off into the distance with these thoughts running through your mind when Bucky pinched your knee hard. You jumped for a second and remembered the predicament that found both of you together.

Your target sat across from Bucky at the circular table. You tried to pick out the words he was saying to his childhood friend, Eric. It would only be a few days until he would exchange the nuclear hacking codes with Marcus. You stared at your target with an unrelenting glare. Marcus did not notice your eyes or the way you listened to every intel-less word he said. This monotonous dinner was far worse than any preceding mission you had taken part in.

Bucky’s eyes met your own bored glance. He looked more enthused with the predicament than you, entertained one may say. You noted that he had not removed his hand from your knee since pinching you. It would be too blatant to throw it off with the businesswoman situated too closely to your right. This many people in a room was unsettling to people like you and Bucky. People who lurked in the shadows and made the best of nightmares that plagued some’s dreams. You were the nightmares that they whispered about to children who stopped sleeping for weeks.

You were about to break the unbearable silence between you and Bucky about how you hoped the dinner would end soon when your target spoke up. He called your “name” and you thankfully tore your locked eyes from Bucky to the target.

“Sarah,” the name rolled off his tongue. “What is your work? I know all of us here work for Biotelligence Incorporated, but what about you?”

The question called you at like a gunshot into the dark abyss of night. Think on your feet. You attempted to create a story quickly even though you had studied your profile for hours, this was not part of it.

You had begun to speak, “I-.”

Bucky cut your words short, “She is a pharmaceutical representative for Biotelligence’s sister company Wellness Core. She is very good at what she does.”

“As good as anyone can get at selling drugs that don’t work.” You lied skillfully in hopes of dropping a line for a more serious subject. Smalltalk being the bane of your existence. Bucky smirked at the response.

“Interesting.” Marcus purred simply. “I’m surprised I’ve never met either of you before.”

Bucky’s eyes were widening because he knew that your cover was about to be blow. His hand reaching slowly into his jacket as if he was pulling out a handkerchief. Below the fabrics, a handgun waiting in hopes of not being used.

You waited to reach for your own gun with an attempt at another well-kept lie. “Well, I’m just a contract worker and my husband was just added to Wellness Core’s board of directors last week. I’m very proud of him.” You gazed into Bucky’s eyes for a moment, trying to make that connection which couldn’t be faked. His look warned of troubled waters ahead. Bucky took your hand in his own and gave it a soft squeeze. A fire raged in your heart from the touch.

“I haven’t met with the Wellness Core board lately. I can’t wait to see you at the next meeting.” Marcus leered.

“Of course, Marcus.” Bucky’s voice rang softly off into the crowded room.

The orchestra began playing a slower song. Bucky’s eyes drifted to the dance floor where couples were beginning to wander. The perfect escape for the cover to not be blown. You’d finished dinner a long while ago and now were only sipping on the middle grade wine.

“Sarah, would you like to dance?” Bucky offered you a hand.

“Of course, Christopher.” You slipped your hand in his and he stood to lead you to the dance floor; Marcus deserted at the table without any more questions for you.

Bucky took you to the floor and wrapped his arm gently around your waist, your hand finding his bicep with the other still resting in his. You had always hated dancing, it forced you to look into someone’s eyes with no escape for elsewhere. Looking into Bucky’s eyes was the last thing you wanted to be doing. Here you were, nonetheless, staring in his ocean blue eyes.

“We’re in trouble.” You muttered as soon as both of you were out of earshot.

“Perhaps. There is a way to ensure we aren’t.” Bucky leaned in a smidge closer as you danced slowly.

“And what is that?” You raised an eyebrow.

His plans were usually terrible or so archaic it pained you to be part of them. Before you could begin to protest, he sealed his lips to your own. Your hand fell out of his as he deepened the kiss. You were shocked by the intensity of his kiss. His tongue brushing up against your lips, sending a euphoria through your body. His arm wrapped tightly around your back, forcing you to lean back. Your knees were about to begin going weak when he pulled away. He moved your hair away from your face with his hand lingering on your jawline for a second.

He knew what he’d just done to you as your foreheads still leaned together. That unbreakable connection which had just been established. He had to know how hard it would be to hate him after a kiss like that. You tried to catch your breath quickly as if he hadn’t just stolen all the air in your lungs. He held a hand in between the two of you. You took it without a second though, unsure of where it would lead you to. Bucky pulled you away from the dance floor and towards the exit. You would not be returning to your table with Marcus tonight. You did not even need to look back to know that your cover was clear.

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Part Five

Tag List: @steveharrigntons @thebadassbitchqueen @farfromjustordinary @mela-noche @sstanbarnes @justab-eautifulmess @spideyycents @furiouscopshepherduniversity

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #undercovers #Undercover AU #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes self insert #self insert #marvel #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns x you #bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes #mine

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flowerwrites06 · 3 years

Text

break my mind’s eye II — jjk

Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.

Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 5k+

Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff

Tags & Warnings (for entire series): drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution, miscarriage, lots of manipulation, impregnation through manipulation

“You’re…letting me go?” Belle stared at her manager Yeeun who, by her clear frown was not mistaken in her harsh words. The two stood in the others’ office with her rack of clothing standing hopelessly in the corner of the room.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to book a venue for a designer with no prior backing?” She continued with her berating.

The younger female assumed it must have around an hour since she arrived and began the onslaught of scolding for missing her fashion show. Belle tried to explain that she needed to help her brother out in a personal situation but family commitment apparently to her was not deemed that important.

“I trusted you and you fucking humiliated me in front of fashion critics.” Yeeun gestured wildly before pinching the bridge of her nose. “You had so much potential too.”

Her heart dropped; slowly wishing that she would go back to just scolding her instead of reminding her of what could have been achieved if the fashion show went on. All the building blocks tirelessly built to get to this point now crumbling down. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t going to bring back what you just threw away.” The older female spoke in brutal honesty as she usually did except it hit Belle harder than normal. “Go on. I can’t help you anymore. Not when there’re plenty of other designers who actually care enough to come to their first fashion show.”

Belle bit down her bottom lip, sun dipping outside casting a dull grey-ish light in the minimalistic office. Photos of all the different designers Yeeun represented now staring down at her in disappointment as she dragged her rack of clothes out of the office.

The morning welcomed sharp chills even through her coat and scarf adorned her body. She grabbed the two pieces of clothing hurriedly since her new wardrobe was organized by Nana who didn’t really know how the girl usually kept everything. Of course that led to a crap load of confusion in the morning when Belle tried to pair something decent and it turned out to be too thin for the temperature she struggled through now.

It didn’t help her situation when her lower belly still ached a little from last night and her head pounded from the lack of proper sleep.

Belle stopped short in front of the office building to see two men standing in front of her, one of them familiar enough for her to realize who they were for. “He’s having you follow me now?” She seethed.

“Master Jeon found out your car was still in the carpark and you took a train so he asked us to drive it here.” Jongho explained plainly, gesturing to the Camry behind them.

Who knew the mere sight of a vehicle could bring this much relaxation in the midst of this stress?

The female sighed pushing the rack towards the hood. “Thank you but please don’t call him ‘Master Jeon’ in front of me.” Belle kept her voice firm, opening the hood and placing all her clothes into an empty box she had with all her discarded designs.

“But we have to.” Jonghos’ brows furrowed, pouting a little; silently reminding that he wasn’t all the much older than any of them, perhaps even younger.

The other guard besides Jongho took the liberty of pushing the rack away in front of the office building.

Belle dared to take another look at the building again. Not too long ago, she walked into this very building with bright eyes and possibly an even brighter future. Memories of Yeeun smiling at her newest designs, approving them to a point where she even got her a chance at a fashion show. Three critics sat at the audience that night and every single one of them looked more important than the last. Unfortunately Belle had someone far more important than any fashion critic or opportunity. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing grew harder and harder to determine.

“Out here, he’s Jungkook.” She spoke still looking up at the building with a more sour expression now at the sound of his name coming from her lips. “And I’m driving.”

Jongho didn’t protest much on the demand and gave her the keys.

“So what’s the real reason Jungkook sent you?” Belle asked as they drove through the city streets. The car had been pleasantly so much warmer than outside or in the train and she grew more thankful as the ice under her skin melted.

Jongho stammered lightly before sighing. “Master—” He cleared his throat. “D-Jungkook did get a little…suspicious that you might try to find a way to get out of the deal. It’s all still—fresh, I guess.”

The female scoffed, fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “He put my brothers’ life under threat and thinks I’m going to run away like some sorry bitch?” She spat pressing down the urge to stomp on the brakes and hopefully run over Jungkook accidently when they reached the mansion. “You’re both going home.” Belle finalized ignoring any stutter of disapproval from the two males.

“But he—”

“But nothing…if he’s so scared of me running away then he should come meet me himself instead of sending his men.” Past the bustling city, Belle drove into the familiar road towards the secluded mansion.

The last time she drove down this path her life was so much more different than it was now. How could it all just change in the span of a day? All because one man had too much power over others.

Then she stomped on the brakes, the shaking hand of the speed checker accelerating at a worrying rate up to the hundreds.

Muffled tire and engine sounds numbing her ears as her stomach jumped from the push across the slightly graveled road.

Heart pumping adrenaline, fueling the wildfire in her body, pushing away memories of his fucking hands on her skin, the disappointment she brought to everyone even herself.

“Ma’am!” A frightened voice called out from behind her, mentally slapping her back to reality.

Letting out deep breath Belle slowly braked the car again bringing them back down from the rush as the mansion now came into view. “Sorry.” She glanced over at Jongho who looked more concerned for the female compared to the guard at the back who feared for his life in a split second.

Into the courtyard she stared at the collection of guards who once again stood lined up the entrance of the mansion. An intense feeling of déjà vu flushed over her before turning to the two guards. “Alright, out you go. I need to get to work.” Going to the fashion-house now became the only thing that could make her day that little bit better.

“Master Jeon—he’ll be angry at us if we left you alone.”

Belle saw something oddly familiar in Jonghos’ eyes that she couldn’t shake off. Seeing the recognizable glint reminded her that Taehyung was not the only victim to Jungkooks’ power. “If Madame Saito sees two strange men with me, she’s going to try and call the police. I don’t want her involved in this whole mess.” She explained. “Is there any way you can keep yourself hidden so Jungkook at least knows that you were doing your job?” Both men nodded thankfully.

She rested back on the seat, closing her eyes as her body reminded her again of the anxiety burning her from the inside. “I need to get some warmer clothes anyway so stay here.”

Nana told Belle that Jungkook was out all morning and a little bit of the day on important business meetings around the city. Not that the younger female really gave a shit where he went but once again…common fucking courtesy.

The drive to the fashion-house was quiet aside from some light music playing on her radio.

They arrived at Madame Saitos’ fashion-house. An elegant slab of purple and gold with the monogram of the Japanese Kanji symbol that meant ‘elegant’. Belle remembered getting the job a few weeks before her parents passed away. It immediately turned from a dream job to the only thing keeping her from breaking down after Taehyung started going into a downward spiral.

Now more than ever she needed the sweet caress of fresh fabric under her fingers to calm her down, to prevent another incident like the one on the road from happening. As per her request, Jongho and the other guard who later introduced himself as Jisung, opted to walk into a nearby café.

Belle walked through the glass doors, all her worries seemingly melting away at the look of neatly organized clothes on the different shelves and stands. Her clothes fit warm and snug on her now and the level upstairs for designing awaited her arrival.

“Bella, darling!” She heard the familiar voice echo through the building.

Turning to the right Belle couldn’t help but smile seeing the bright woman walk over to her in a gorgeous purple pantsuit. She gave her a small bow which she waved away.

“How many times have I told you? You’re a fellow designer.” Saito tapped her chin which would have made her giggle.

But her stomach dropped when reality sunk in and she realized Saito was wrong. “I’m not a designer anymore.” Belle smiled sadly.

“And why is that?” She raised her own chin, deep purple lips looking more defined and her dark brows furrowed.

It was as if her mind opened up the millions of drawers she tried to lock up to help her survive the rest of the day but the younger female adorned a much smaller smile. “Yeeun let me go. I couldn’t go through the fashion show on a family emergency.”

Saito scoffed loudly before waving her hand. “Managers don’t make designers. Designers make designers.” She pressed hand over Belle’s heart. “She’s one manager, darling. Don’t let it get to you.”

If it were a less strange time than this, Belle would instantly be consoled by Saitos’ words but there was so much more. So many more things she wanted to talk about but she feared no one’s ears were understanding enough. Even she couldn’t hear herself talk about what happened. “Thank you.” She muttered forcing her mind to feel somewhat relaxed.

The older female smiled, patting her cheek. “I have to go personally deliver this to a client.” She rolled her eyes looking down at the cover hanging over her arm. “He’s this big businessman who wants a suit tonight and just needs to thank the designer in person.” She scoffed making Belle chuckle. “You’ll be in charge for the rest of the day, darling.”

Belle’s heart fluttered in excitement as she immediately nodded.

“Oh and…since you have more time on your hands without Yeeun pestering you. I was wondering if you wanted to work on a few designs for the Spring Line.” Saito smiled casually not entirely noticing that fireworks were going off in her mind in celebration.

She was getting a chance at another line. Another opportunity. Belle couldn’t help giggling a little but she quickly stopped herself. “You’re not joking?”

“Of course not. You’re the best designer I’ve had in years.” She patted her shoulder comfortingly. “One thing though, I’ll need four designs by tomorrow morning so we can be ahead of schedule. I’ve done six that you can look at to see what the concept is but let your wonderful mind run wild.”

A light hint of anxiety seeped through the thick elation bursting through her veins but Belle ignored it, merely smiling at the older female as she walked out of the building.

Sun dipped behind the skyscrapers, warm light shining through the glass giving the whole store a deep warm glow as Belle stood in front of the main counter. Hand ached a little from holding onto the pencil for too long. Grey scratches against the ecru paper of flowy trains and minimalistic patterns to symbolize re-birth in some way.

Something she admired about Saito was her excessive need to shy away from the norm of flowers and nature. Maybe thinking a little deeper into what spring meant and really bringing the art out of her fashion. Part of why despite their prices, people still walked in and out purchasing their numbers.

It was a breath of fresh air from the line of fashion and a wonder to behold during Fashion Week.

Unfortunately Belle’s little bubble of inspiration was rudely popped when the door opened with Jonghos’ voice echoing in the building.

“Ma’am…Master Jeon is asking for you at the mansion.” He tried to speak quietly but the walls resonated even the smallest of sounds.

Her brows furrowed, dropping the pencil on the table making her fingers cramp up ever so slightly. “What does he need me for?” Anger rose and burned through her eyes.

“He said it’s important.” Jongho shrugged.

The woman huffed averting her gaze before jumping off her chair. “Did he call you? Is he still on the phone?” Belle stomped over to the male who tried to back away a little but the glass door closed behind him. “What could he possibly want from me now that’s so damn important?” He already got everything else.

“I don’t know, ma’am…he—he didn’t say.”

“Well tell him that I have a lot of work to do and he can wait.” She glared at the young male even though truly he wasn’t the one she was angry at.

Eventually Jongho walked towards the car with slouched shoulders leaving Belle to go back to work on her counter. The scratches were a lot harsher due to her shaky fingers so she reminded herself to re-do some of these sketches again when it was time for coloring.

“Ma’am?” Jongho called out again in a much softer voice.

Belle’s pencil broke off making her fingers curl up into a fist but she forced herself to take a deep breath. “What is it, Jongho?”

“Master Jeon wants to speak with you.” He held out a phone walking towards the counter.

She glanced at the male before down at the phone, accepting it gently and putting it on her ear. “Yes?”

“Are you trying to be a fool?” Jungkooks’ tone took a dark turn from what Belle heard yesterday; more growly and deep like he had been yelling all day.

“I already said I’m working.” Belle muttered calmly. “What’s so important?”

“We need to go to an event. My aunt and uncle have invited me to come tonight and I need you to be there to get rid of any future suitor arrangements.” He explained with that same infuriating voice acting like she was doing something wrong trying to work.

“I need to some things done, Jungkook, can’t we re-schedule a meeting with your aunt and uncle?” Hands brushed away the pieces of led that broke off from her pencil.

“No we can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think you realize just what’s at stake if you piss me off too much.” He challenged.

“Your deal was that you’ll stay away from Taehyung if I stay with you.” She corrected.

“You should know that I can change deals in an instant.”

Belle gripped onto the phone suppressing the urge to throw it across the room as she gulped down a lump in her throat. Her dormant anxiousness now fully erupting through every limb in her body. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” She stated before hanging up not wanting to hear his voice anymore as she gave it over to Jongho.

Angrily packing up her stuff, she decided to let Jongho drive this time to prevent any incidents on the road from her heated up mind.

So much for fucking freedom. He couldn’t even re-schedule a meeting to let her work. Maybe it was an overreaction but looking at the situation, Belle thought that being livid and frustrated was called for.

The sky turned purple by the time they reached the mansion and Belle barely waited for the car to stop before she climbed out. Grabbing her things, she walked through the entrance ignoring any attempt at the guards trying to hold the bags.

“Finally her Majesty has arrived, what took you so long?” Jungkook, already dressed up in a black suit with a white shirt slightly unbuttoned, jabbed at the female right as she walked through the archway.

Belle merely glared at the male walking past him up the stairs while Nana followed her helplessly. The older female almost wanted to apologize for him but couldn’t find the time as she chased her.

In their shared room, Belle placed the bags of her work next to her side of the bed. Tears of frustration flooded in her eyes a little which she tried her best to hide when she saw Nana come up behind her.

“Dear…” She muttered comfortingly but the younger female shook her head.

“It’s okay, please. I’ll get ready myself.” Belle smiled through teary eyes before walking past her.

Ankle length daffodil-yellow dress adorned her freshly showered body, long curls with the top half clipped away from her face and some shoes to match. As she coated her lashes her mind tried to organize how she was going to rush to the event and then come back to finish all the designs. The deeper the thoughts moved, the more anxiety bubbled inside her almost making her makeup application a little dodgy but decent enough.

“Dear, Master Jeon is calling for you.” Nana spoke gently as if knowing that the sound of his name stroke a nerve in her constantly.

“I’m done, I’m coming.” Belle answered, hands leaning against the edge of the vanity table in the walk-in wardrobe trying to calm down her breathing. I hope you’re okay, Taehyung. It was only the first day and she could feel the weight of it all bearing down on her body. For the first time since yesterday, the woman almost wanted to admit that she may be lot more vulnerable than she thought.

Shaking her head roughly she stared at herself in the mirror. Dusty rose lips mimicking the light hint of colour on her cheeks and a glimmering eyes mostly from the illusion in the shimmery eyeshadow. At least she looked put together. Her body and mind were a whole different story.

Nana held onto her hand as they walked down the stairs, Belle held onto the dress to ensure she didn’t trip and make her stressful day even worse. Little bits of her hair dropped over her face but it was only when she reached the end.

Her eyes slowly trailed up to see Jungkook staring at her up and down the way he did the first time they met.

“What’s wrong?” She looked down at her outfit for a moment, seeing absolutely nothing wrong but Jungkook must have had something to say.

The man stayed silent for a few minutes shifting in his position. “Nothing. Let’s go.” He muttered coldly walking to the exit with three of his guards already walking behind him like robots.

Belle followed the trail, gripping at her clutch purse.

Dull blue hue adorned the sky when they were outside. The guards dispersed to the sides giving Belle way to move forward where she saw Jungkook looking over his shoulder as if he was searching for someone.

Not a word uttered, Jungkook raised an arm and let it hover over her back as they walked towards the luxurious black Sedan shining even in this grey-ish light.

Throughout the car ride, Belle tried to ask Jungkook what the event was for and what they would be doing for the rest of the night. All her questions answered with detached replies that gave her no explanation whatsoever making it highly difficult to keep her patience.

“At least tell me how long it’s going to be?” She asked in a much softer tone now.

“An hour or something, alright? Now just keep quiet and don’t embarrass me.” Jungkook snapped before looking out the window.

Belle wanted to be shocked at the sudden change in behavior from the dashing and charming man she saw yesterday but this just served as a good reminder. This was all a fucking joke. She was dressing up to play pretend with a scum of a man who had no care for anyone but his own needs and reputation.

The momentary silence broke by muffled sounds of flashing cameras and people calling out or yelling at the glimmering bodies on the carpet.

Jungkook had the car door opened for him and the second he walked out, he could hear the people growing more restless and the cameras going wild.

Belle shifted towards his side now keeping her clutch purse on her chest.

He held his hand out and she accepted it to keep up appearances, adorning an elegant smile on her rosy lips. Their fingers intertwined with one another as they walked past them with their personal line of guards on each side.

Sounds of violins made her ears prick up and the smell of chocolate touched her nostrils, her stomach rumbling a little. Thankfully the incessant noise from every corner was able to conceal it.

The event hall shone in golden light with a crystal chandelier centering the ceiling, buffet standing on the far left, slow dancing in the middle and a sitting area on the far right. People were crowded but nothing like a bustling city. Instead of strangers pressing against each other in trains or trying to push past to get to work, people kindly slithered through crowds or made pleasant conversation before they moved onto the next group.

Though Belle despised the reasoning for being here, for years this was an event she has always wanted to attend. The class, the culture, the clothes; all of it surrounded her like a welcoming hug and she didn’t really protest when Jungkook led her further into the hall.

Fake elegant smile now melted into something more genuine as she curiously peered over at the performers in gold satin dresses dancing in the middle of the hall. On her left, a vast selection of foods, some she didn’t even recognize but the chocolate fountain wasn’t hard to detect and her stomach shouted again.

“Auntie!” Jungkook called out, his usual sour mood moved to a smile as he leaned to press a kiss on an older womans’ cheek.

The lady looked as elegant and bright as the hall they were in, wearing a white dress with golden hair pins in her neat bun while the man next to her—Jungkook’s uncle wore the same simple suit his nephew did. Except he had a bow on unlike her ‘partners’ more unkept look. “I’m so happy you could be here!” His aunt cheered softly, her wide smile showing off all the lines on her face.

“Why would I not? Your events are always my favorite.” He smiled again almost to a point where Belle almost suspected it may have been fake.

“There’s someone I want you to meet.” His aunt nodded at the younger male whose lips twitched a little making him grin wider.

This one looking a lot more obviously forced.

His aunt turned to the side and called someone over. A woman who looked around their age, tall and slender with long black hair flowing past her lower back and her body adorning an azure dress, loosely stitched rhinestones in large clusters. All of that topped up with some bright red lipstick and shimmering blue eyeshadow to match the clothes. She gave Jungkook a big, advertisement smile.

Belle felt Jungkooks’ hand leave her and immediately hold his out towards the woman which she accepted happily. She introduced herself as Suyeon, only side-glancing her before fixating her gaze on the man instead.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Suyeon.” His charming tone sounded all too familiar.

“I think you two would hit it off really well.” Her aunt declared already off of a two second conversation. Finally the older woman managed to look over at her. “And who’s this?”

Jungkook hummed in question before looking at Belle. “Right this is—” He paused for a moment staring at the woman as if he was already starting to have second thoughts. “This is a friend…Belle.”

Belle smiled at the three new people even though her heart burned with anger at how quickly he changed his mind.

“Of course.” His aunt smiled.

The four elites dived into deep conversation as Belle quietly smiled and admired the performances instead; hoping they would distract her somehow. None of them really cared about her presence here which didn’t help her fury towards Jungkook.

Ah Jungkook.

He who conveniently shifted on the other side of her so he could stand next to Suyeon instead, conversing with her pleasantly. Everything about their deal now seemed long forgotten leaving Belle to worry about the fate of her brother.

“So…uh—” Suyeon spoke towards her now.

“Belle.” She answered softly, keeping up with that smile tiresomely.

“I’ve never seen you in these kinds of parties before.”

“This is my first time.”

“Ah—” Suyeon gave her a fake smile. “Makes sense.” She eyed her up and down as the other three of them laughed.

Even Jungkook didn’t seem to stop finding it funny.

“I mean…no offense, darling but yellow isn’t really a nice color for these events. They look a little—childish.” Venom flowed from her tongue when she spewed those words.

Whatever anxiety burning Belle from the inside now was momentarily pushed down as the fashion lover inside her scurried up. “It’s called daffodil…not yellow.” She emphasized the word making it sound like an uncouth description to use. “If we are talking about childish, perhaps you could take a closer look at the plastic rhinestones on your dress hanging on for dear life on a single thread.” She looked at her up and down this time. “I highly doubt that’s Louis Vuitton work.”

Her words silenced the four of them immediately. Suyeons’ photo-worthy smile now turned into an ugly frown, the aunts’ brows were raised in intrigue and Jungkook stared at her in shock. Belle merely smiled as the older woman of the group tried to change the topic now into something more lighthearted.

Once the confidence drowned out, anxiety kicked in again wanting to walk out of this vicinity right now and never look back. The four of them dispersed a little but Jungkook walked straight to her, holding her arm and bringing her close. “Behave yourself, alright? There’s no need to be rude.”

Belle scoffed yanking out of his grip and walking towards the buffet hoping that some food would help her mood. The clip in her hair began to prick at her aching head and her shoes felt like they were tighter by the minute. Nothing felt right about this night.

“Oh Belle…” She heard a drawling, sickly sweet voice.

Just her luck. Looking over to her side, she gave Suyeon a similar grin trying to look as friendly as possible even though their previous interaction was anything but that. “Suyeon—”

“I hope there’s no hard feelings about my comment.” There was no genuine nature in her tone in the slightest but Belle played along, once again playing pretend that everything was going swell.

“It’s all forgotten.” She shook her head.

“I also hope you could give me some more fashion advice.”

Belle turned to look at the female and a dampening chill trailed all the way down from her chest to her torso, body stepping back in shock. She looked down at her daffodil dress now stained with red almost forming into an orangish color. Gasps echoed throughout the room and she could feel the stares on her. Staring up at Suyeon, she was holding out an empty glass with a sinister smirk on her face.

“What color is that, little rat?”

“Suyeon!”

Belle could’ve sworn she heard Jungkooks’ aunts’ yelling but she was already heading for the bathroom, the whole day picked at her final straw.

If in a better mood, her eyes would have been shining in glee at the gorgeous white marble bathroom with bright gold detail. But right now they were flooding with hot tears that stained down her cheeks. Body shivering a little from the harsh chill on her entire front, some pieces of her hair completely damp and the skin on her chest reddened as well.

Belle whined lightly under her breath, lips quivering as she grabbed some tissues and dabbed off the excess liquid not wanting to face the crowd outside.

She heard a woman squeal a little when the door opened but she couldn’t care less to look.

Her head was numb, her body flushing from hot to cold and her body too stubborn to stop shaking from the cold and anxiety.

Finally her eyes flickered to the mirror to see a familiar figure standing next to her. The mere sight of him caused her to sigh in elevated frustration. “If you’re just going to yell at me—” Belle spoke in a cracked voice.

“I saw what she did.” Jungkook immediately replied in a mutter.

Belle sniffled washing off the liquid from the ends of her hair, feeling her clothes now sticking to her dampened skin.

The male padded closer reaching out to touch her shoulder.

“Don’t touch me.” She backed away as one hand held onto the dripping hair. “You chose your wife, now leave me alone.” Belle hated that Jungkooks’ previous behavior created a lump in her throat, fresh tears arriving at the brim of her eyes.

A sigh passed his lips as he lowered his head, leaning against the edge of the counter. “Her joke wasn’t funny.” Jungkook murmured. “I just laughed for the sake of my aunt, she stares at my every move when I make conversation with these suitors. I can never seem to gain the courage to upset her.” He shifted in his position. “Truth be told, you were the most beautiful one here.”

Belle shook her head, another tear dropping down her cheek even after touching up her makeup. “I just wanna go home…” She tried to hug herself but it only made the clothes on her front more uncomfortable. “Please.”

Jungkook searched the womans’ expression finding nothing but distress and discomfort in her whole being. He nodded before shrugging off his coat with a sigh. “Here.” He held his coat out.

She hesitated for a moment glancing up at the man before caving as she draped the coat on. Thankfully it was big enough to cover up most of her dress. Once again his hand hovered over her back as they walked out of the bathroom.

Most of the people were back to their own conversations save for Jungkooks’ aunt who still looked worriedly at the two.

“I didn’t know she was going to behave like that, sweetie.” His aunt genuinely looked like she regretted inviting the menace to the event. “I’m so sorry, are you okay?” She rubbed her shoulder a little.

Belle smiled at her and nodded. “Thank you.”

“We’ll talk to you at a better time, auntie.” Jungkook kissed her cheek again before they walked out of the hall in silence.

Trying their best to ignore the paparazzi, the two were led into their car and were driven home in silence. Belle scooched on the far side on the back seat looking out the window hoping that this day would end. But it couldn’t.

Heat flushed at the back of her neck when she looked at the time. Her work tomorrow would start at around nine after she paid a visit to Taehyung in the rehab center. So that left only a few hours with no sleep to finish the rest of her designs for the spring line. Right up until they reached the mansion, her head began planning all the ways she would keep herself awake and finish the job she was set.

“What happened, mistress?” Nana asked and Belle just replied that a snake got a hold of a wine glass before they walked upstairs.

Jungkook walked over to the bar the last time she glimpsed back only for a second.

Forcing herself to have a cold shower, she put on simple pair of grey sweatpants and a matching sweater with her hair up in a ponytail. Her body million times more comfortable now in dry and warm clothing while her dress was being soaked. Annoyance washed over thinking of the possibility that she might not be able to take the stain off.

Belle sat on the floor of the walk-in wardrobe, the perfect place to lay out all her designs and begin her sketching session.

Jungkook walked into the room when she was figuring out where to add details on one of her dresses. He paused a little looking at her deeply engrossed in her work.

She merely glanced at the male before going back to her tasks. Talking to him or even looking at him would only remind her of the time he stole away and for what? Humiliation and a wine stain on one of her favourite dresses? Belle even physically shook her head at the thought. The fact he even threatened to break the deal for this shit only worsened the fury.

But she couldn’t break any more pencils over her anger. Now Belle had to work. If anything needed to go well, it was this. So as the hours kept ticking away, the woman did nothing but do what she did best.

While Jungkook giving one last glance at her, fell fast asleep on the bed assuming she might just come there when she’s ready.

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musical-broken-heart · 3 years

Text

Mental Breakdowns and Hair Cuts

Ships: Henry/Patrick side Reddie and Stenbrough

Age: Bowers=16 Losers=13

TW: Slurs, Panic Attacks, Self Harm, Mental Breakdowns, Abuse

Clenching his fists he fell to the floor sobbing. Holding himself he curled up next to the bathtub slowly his hands found his hair and he tried pulling it out of his scalp.

He needed to die! All he did was hurt people but he couldn't help himself. He needed to get his anger out and he didn't want to talk about it nor did he want to hurt his friends the only people who cared about him.

The past few weeks he had the same nightmare of Patrick going into the sewer and being eaten alive by a monster made of fear itself. That same monster possessed him in his dreams and made him kill Oscar and his friends. He hated his father but he would never think of killing him. He may have been abusive but he was all Henry had after his mother just left. He normally woke up screaming drenched in sweat the vivid image of his friends in the car their necks slit their blood on his hands and Patrick decaying next to him still haunting him.

He was weak. He was a faggot. He needed to die! Death scared him. Thats why he never cut deep. Thats why he mended his own wounds before he could bleed out. Standing up he looked in the mirror seeing his bloodshot eyes and tear-stained face. Grabbing the scissors he started cutting off his mullet. Once he cleaned his new hair cut to look like a professional had done it he looked in the mirror again hoping to see someone new only finding a broken boy staring back at him.

"Henry get up! Get your ass to school!" Oscar yelled. Henry didn't think twice before putting the sweater on and throwing the hood over his head. Running out of the house he walked to Vic's house as normal both waiting for Belch to come to get them.

"I remember watching you cut the hoods off all your sweaters," Victor said not moving his eyes from Henry and the black sweater. "That sweater looks a few sizes too big for you are you sure it's yours?" he asked his blond hair falling over his eye. "Why do you care? I found it in my roo- house!" Henry growled. Victor was a smart kid who could figure anything out if given enough time.

"It's Patricks isn't it?" he asked causing Henry to go red. "Yea he left it at my house I was cold and all my sweaters are cut up so I just borrowed his jacket! Shut up!" Victor smiled and hummed nodding his head. "He may be a sociopath but once he realizes that's his jacket he's gonna get a boner." Vic laughed as Henry started coughing. "Why the fuck would you say that?!" Henry asked leaning over trying to get a breath.

"Get in assholes!" Patrick yelled as Belch drove up. "Where'd you get the jacket?" Belch asked getting the middle finger from Henry. Victor giggled and leaned over whispering like a little girl at a sleepover. Belch smiled and smirked at Henry who blushed harder. Thankfully Patrick ignored the situation. But Belch had to say something. "Hey, Pat what happened to your jacket?" Henry glared at him. "I think I left it at Henry's," Patrick said not bothering to look at his friend. Henry sighed and slouched down in relief.

Patrick looked over realizing Henry was wearing the jacket. It was too big for him causing him to look like a child. Patrick blushed and started to laugh so Victor wouldn't notice. "You look like a drug dealer in my jacket Puppy!" Henry rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Whatever Hockstetter!"

Pulling into school the four walked only for Henry to get pulled aside by a teacher. "No hoods in school Henry!"

Groaning Henry took the hood down but refused to meet anyone eyes. "Whoa, your old man finally get sick of the mullet?" Victor joked pulling his friend close patting his back. "Shut up!" Henry growled pushing his friend away. "Hey, Bowers finally cut that fucking mullet? About time!" Richie shouted getting Eddie to shush him. "Shut up faggot! You should really listen to your faggot friends and keep that stupid mouth shut!" Henry yelled. Stan stepped forward and pulled his friend back. "What's your problem asshole?!" Henry chuckled and grabbed Bill. "Your faggot boyfriend and his stupid stutter is my problem! Along with all your faces!" he said pushing Bill ontop of Stan.

Belch and Vic chuckled ready to grab one of the Losers but Henry stopped them going to their lockers. "Where'd Patrick go?'' he asked leaning against his locker. "Don't know he rushed off when you took the hood off. Said he had some school work." Belch said getting Henry and Vic to look at him. "What? OH!" he said realizing what he said. "I'm gonna go look for him," Henry mumbled starting to walk away.

Looking around the hallway someone covered his mouth and pulled him into the bathroom. "Why did you do it? Do you like to torture me Puppy?" Henry sighed and shook the boy off him. "I don't know what you're talking about!" he hissed. Patrick grabbed Henry's wrist and pulled him close curling his fingers under the smaller boys chin lifting his face up. With his other arm, he wrapped it securely around Henry's waist keeping him close. "Don't you seeHoney? I love you!" he whispered bringing their lips together. Henry's eyes widened and tried to pull away but only ended up being pushed against the wall with no hope of escape.

Patrick slowly pulled away and arm still wrapped around Henry to other on the wall next to Henry's head. "Patrick get off of me." Henry tried to yell but ended up sounding defeated. Patrick smiled and started attacking the boy's neck causing him to moan. "You look so hot with short hair," Patrick said starting to run his hand under the sweater causing the leader to squirm and whimper. "Patrick! Stop! You-you, don't know what love is! You're fucking psychotic!" Henry growled once again trying to push his friend off him.

Patrick pulled away looking hurt grabbing Henry's wrists and pinning them above his head. "I'm not a psychopath! I'm a high functioning sociopath. Honey, you should know this." Henry shivered and tried to move his legs but Patrick caught on and pressed his knees against the boy's legs. "I know enough about love to know that the first time I saw you standing with Victor under that pine tree and my heart tried to leave my chest I would die for you. Kill for you!" Patrick whispered in Henry's ear.

Henry bit his lip and looked at the floor. "Pat. You might know what love is but I don't." Patrick sighed and brought his lips to Henry's again this time he stopped. "I don't want to rush you Puppy," he said softly. Henry smiled and connected their lips this time the kiss was sweet and soft. "Should I grow out a mullet?" Henry asked. "Don't! You look like a sweetheart with short hair. You also look really hot in my sweater!" Patrick said getting a chuckle from Henry. "Thanks for forgetting it, Pine Tree. My dad would have killed me. Probably wouldn't compare to last night." Henry said going for another kiss but Patrick pulled away.

"What do you mean compare to last night?" Henry realized his mistake and laughed. "D-did I say that? I meant um. Compare to the abuse some kids get definitely not me?" Henry said quickly. Patrick growled and pulled away from Henry who pulled him back kissing him. "Honey I have to go kill your father. I can't have someone hurting you." Patrick said between kisses. Henry moaned into the kiss his arms around Patrick's neck. "Pat! I can't have him die!" Henry said as Patrick slowly grabbed his legs lifting him up. "Why not Honey? He's hurting you." Patrick said.

"I've had dreams," Henry whispered as Patrick moved to his neck again leaving marks. "Tell me about them," Patrick said. Henry moaned in delight his head falling back. "You die. By a creature made out of fear. It possesses me a-and I kill Vic and Belch and my old man." Henry said. Patrick stopped kissing the boy and held him closely. "Puppy look at me. It's okay. I'm not dead I'm right here." Patrick said holding Henry closely as the leader shook. "You alright honey?" he asked lifting the boys head.

"Pat. What are we?" Henry asked looking to the side. "If you want we could be boyfriends?" Patrick said getting a small nod from Henry. "God I love you!" Patrick said starting to kiss the boy again. Running his hands on his waist he slowly moved down to his thighs getting a small yelp from Henry. "You started cutting again," Patrick said. "I-I never stopped. It helps me get passed, my dads beatings." Henry whimpered. "Puppy promise me you'll stop."

Henry nodded and kissed Patrick again. "Pine Tree I have to get to class!" Henry said pulling away. Patrick grabbed him and wrapped his arms around the boy. "I have to go, darling!" Henry whined kissing him. "Miss one day of classes for me!" Patrick said getting a sigh from the boy. "I can get Belch's keys to the car." Henry groaned.

Patricks POV

A few weeks ago I left my sweater at Henry's. I knew it was in his living room so I went over while his father was out to find the house empty. Walking into Henry's room I found him sleeping and not wanting him to wake up finding me staring at him I looked in his closet quickly. Sighing I turned back to the bed finding his arms wrapped around a blanket. Chuckling I went to leave before looking back seeing it was my jacket I forgot. Blushing I turned around and quickly left.

Getting outside I stood on the porch and ran my hands through my hair. Goddamnit, he was hot! I went home but I couldn't get him out of my mind. Groaning I fell onto my bed burying my face in my pillow. Maybe if I try hard enough I can convince my parents to move.

The next few weeks went by and Henry wore my sweater. It was too big for him causing him to look like a drug dealer. "Whatever Hockstetter!" he growled his face red. Turning my focus back to the window I smiled.

A teacher told him to take off the hood and I didn't think twice about it. Glancing at him I quickly looked at him again. He no longer had a mullet and damnit he was hot! "Uh I-I think I have s-some school work to um to work on." I stammered out to Belch only getting a nod from him as Henry started yelling at Richie and the other Losers.

Quickly walking to the bathroom and leaned against the sink looking in the mirror. My face was a bright shade of red and my eyes dilated. Groaning shook my head trying to get Herny off my mind. He hates fags and finding out his friend was gay for him!

I walked out and saw him looking for me. Grabbing him I pulled him into the bathroom. I don't know what came over me but I confessed. I kissed him! He didn't get mad. "Patrick stop! You-You, don't know what love is! Your fucking psychotic!" he said. I stopped and looked at him. It hurt hearing him say that. Shaking my head he was wrong! I might have been crazy but I still knew that I loved him. I saw tears in his eyes but I couldn't tell if he was sad angry or happy. "You might know what love is. But I don't," he said softly looking to the side.

I don't want to rush him. He's gone through a lot. He smiled softly and kissed me. Starting to make out he chuckled thanking me for leaving the jacket. I knew about his father being cruel but I thought he had stopped the abuse. "I'm going to kill him!" I growled out loud. Henry's eyes widened and he shook his head. "N-no! I need him! You can't kill him!" he said quickly surprising me. I nodded and held him close. "Please Pat!" he said tears starting to roll down his face.

Dreams. He explained how he had nightmares about me dying. A monster eating me in the seers then making him a puppet killing the others. Kissing him I went to lift his legs and he let out a painful groan. "Puppy you started cutting again?" he shook his head. "I-I never stopped," he said looking ashamed. Trying to get to class I stopped him. "Skip one day. For me?" I said kissing his neck. "I can try and get the car keys from Belch."

In the car, he sat on top of me kissing my bare chest while I kept my arms tightly wrapped around his naked torso running my fingers through his now short hair. "You like to bite don't you puppy?" he rolled his eyes and started for my neck leaving more marks. "Mmm stop moving so much!" he mumbled starting to kiss my lips.

Getting a tighter grip on him I like his lips asking for him to open which he did instantly letting me have dominance. "Something wrong Puppy?" I asked. "Just tired," he replied kissing me again. I hummed in response exploring his mouth again with my tongue. Moaning into the kiss I sat up causing him to almost fall off the seat.

"You two better not have had sex in my car!" we heard someone say. Breaking from the kiss Henry whined in protest and glared at Belch who just laughed. "Does this mean I get to sit in front?!" Victor asked joy in his voice. Henry let go of me and grabbed the sweater putting it on and jumped in front. "Keep dreaming Vic!" he said only getting an annoyed groan from the boy.

"You misses the entire day of school and you're saying you didn't have sex?!" Belch asked getting a nod from Henry. Driving to his house he got out and started walking to his door. "Wait! Don't leave just yet." I said watching Henry walk in and close the door. "Pat I'm sure your new boyfriend is fine." Belch said glaring at me. "I'm gonna go get my sweater back anyway," I said getting out of the car walking to the house.

Henry stood still in the entrance of the house shaking visibly. Oscar was walking around shaking his head breathing heavily. "Hey, Pat the door locked?!" Victor yelled I only shook my head getting him and Belch to run over.

"Why the fuck are you like this?! You are a damn mistake and I think it's about time I got rid of you!" Butch yelled slapping his son across the face. "You gotta lot of nerve coming home wearing a faggots sweater! Coming home your hair like that! You are a failer!" he yelled again.

Victor had covered his mouth his eyes wide and Belch looked ready to kill the man. "I thought Henry said the beating stopped?!" Victor whispered. "He lied. He told me they just weren't as bad." I replied trying to figure out how to get in without him getting hurt more by my presents. "Clearly they aren't as good! They seem to be worse! What are you doing just standing out here?! You are his boyfriend!" Belch said also in a quiet tone knowing the gravity of the situation. Opening my mouth I stopped hearing Butch speak again.

"I never should have stopped you from killing yourself!" he growled causing me to snap. I opened the door and ran to Henry grabbing him and pushing him over to Victor who held him. He looked between all of us confused but didn't fight back. "Oh so now the faggot needs some protection, does he?! I'll shoot him right here and not give a shit what happens!" he yelled pulling out a gun pointing it at Henry.

"Butch your drunk!" Belch yelled trying not to start a fight. Glaring he pulled the trigger and Henry let out a scream of pain falling to the floor holding his side which was now bleeding. "You asshole! You shot your own son!" I yelled swinging at him. Stumbling back he held his face and pointed the gun at me and Belch but Victor grabbed it from him pointing it at him. Vic's hands were shaking but he tried to steady them. Butch growled and lifted his hands ready to hit one of us but he didn't.

Henry had his arms wrapped around his father as if trying to stop him, tears rolling down his face. "Please." he sobbed quietly as his father looked at him stunned. "Please no more pain! Just one day without any violence. Please father. I don't want this life anymore so please stop!" he begged his voice only full of sincerity. Butch sighed and turned around to fully face his son who was still bleeding out. "Sometimes. You can be so much like your mother. Which is why I stopped you from killing yourself. You don't have the heart of a killer. Victor!" He said getting the boy to jump.

"Give me my gun! Get the first aid kit in the kitchen. Huggins, Hockstetter! Start getting Henry's things. First thing tomorrow you're moving out." Henry's eyes widened and he smiled hugging his father who stepped back and hesitantly hugged back. "I might as well be a good father once in my life!" he mumbled pulling away and leaving. Victor grabbed henry and pulled off the sweater and shirt and started mending at the gunshot.

"I think I might need to see a doctor," he mumbled glaring at his side. I walked over to him and sighed in relief seeing him smile a little. "Your sweater kinda got a little bloody. Sorry." he laughed. I shrugged and hugged him. "HEY! Stop moving! Patrick! I'm trying to mend his wound and you aren't gonna become a Disney princess and sing away the blood!" Vic hissed getting me to hold my hands up in surrender.

"Henry! What do you want me to pack?!" Belch yelled form the boy's room. Henry looked over his shoulder and slapped Victor away getting a glare from him. "I'm not done patching you up!" he growled getting a shrug from Henry. "NO! I'm going to mean you up then you can walk around then you can sit in a hospital bed!" Victor said grabbing the leader. "Okay mom!" he said rolling his eyes.

"Okay there!" Victor said after a few minutes. Henry shot up and ran to his room. "I NEVER SAID YOU COULD FUCKING RUN AROUND!" Victor yelled after him knowing his friend would ignore him. "You better listen to Victor before he hurts you more," I said holding Henry close to me. "Pine Tree can I stay with you?" he asked kissing my neck. "Yea I suppose you could spend a few nights over at my house." I joked getting him to chuckle a little.

"Thanks, Pine Tree." he smiled. I rolled my eyes and kissed his forehead. "Whatever Puppy."

#it incorrect quotes #henry bowers #patrick hockstetter #henry x patrick #patrick x henry #bowersgang #henrybowers #bill denbrough #losers club #henpat #my own work

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yoonia · 4 years

Text

About Time // Part 19

Character: Jungkook x reader / Jimin x reader (feat. BTS)

↳ Type/Genre/words | Angst, Fluff, Alternate Universe (Time Travel!au/Time Leap!au, Soulmate!au), Eventual Smut / 13,5k words

↳ Prompts | “What if you find your soulmate… at the wrong time?” - Lauren Kate, Passion

↳ Summary | Be careful for what you wish for, because you may never know how to deal with them once it comes true. What would you do when your wish for a second chance actually came true? But was it really a fulfilled wish? Too many questions lie when it actually happened. Were they real memories? Or perhaps a part of a past life? Was it only a dream all along? Will everything be different this time?

↳ Ratings | Mature/+18 and up

↳ Warnings | this chapter contains multiple smut scenes: involving public sex, first time sex, thigh riding, explicit scene of sexual intercourse and intense foreplay (finger fucking, f receiving), mentions of cancer, (probably) inaccurate medical and law terms

↳ Author’s Note | If you find a few scenes within this chapter that seem a bit familiar, perhaps it’s because you have read it before in a different form. The final scene for this chapter was taken from a short drabble that I created during a muse game for this story, with a few adjustments on the scene itself to make it seem more fitting into the timeline. I do hope you’ll enjoy this one. I know there are lots of you who have been waiting for this moment to come :)

↳ ⤎ Previous Chapter | Series Index: About Time | Next Chapter ⇢

Song Companion | Live - Lightning Crashes

—Present life, year 2017—

Jimin had become silent ever since the two of us left the pub. But my mind had never been so loud as it was at the moment and it had been this way since I stepped out of that place, leaving behind the memory of his altercations with Jungkook earlier.

Questions after questions kept coming while the events and pieces of the conversation they shared back at the pub continued to replay themselves inside my head.

While Jimin kept his eyes locked on the road, his posture was tense and his grip on the wheel remained hard and tight that I could see his knuckles turning white. I could even begin to faintly hear the sound of its leather cover cracking and pulling beneath his palms. Yet I kept quiet beside him, letting my mind wander as I had my eyes looking away and out the window. I had no idea what to say to him or how to react, while at the same time, I was trying to ignore the way his tension and rage kept rolling out of him in waves as he drove us further and further away from the pub.

Between being afraid that any word I said would come out with accusations, or perhaps being called crazy if I should talk to him about my predicament or to hurt him if I admitted to him why I kept being pulled to Jungkook for some reason, I decided to give him some time and space to calm down. Hoping that maybe once he did, he would be able to talk about it and I would be able to question him.

The silence thickened as each second ticked by, until a deep sigh came out of him, breaking the stillness that had grown between us.

“I’m sorry,” he suddenly said to me. His voice was soft, and I could feel his remorse lathering every word he said that I could not help but to turn to look at him.

“Sorry? What for?”

He gave me a rueful smile as he glanced my way, briefly, before looking back on the road. “I’m sorry you had to witness that. I shouldn’t have let him rile me up the way he did.” He sighed. “I must have ruined the mood for tonight.”

I opened my mouth, ready to argue and try to make him feel better. But I held my tongue, knowing that the words might come out wrong and I would probably be pushing his guilt further instead of urging him to move on.

Shaking my head, I told him all that I could say at the moment. “It’s—whatever. It’s fine,” I said, even though there was a huge part of me that begged to understand. But must this night be filled with wondering and analysing things?

Did I really want to know the answers?

Did I really want to know what those words meant? The words Jungkook said which had brought out dizziness that silenced everything running through my head at the point of hearing it?

I may have said that it didn’t matter, but my mind betrayed me by voicing out the questions once again.

Why would he say something like that? Why did they seem to hate each other? Have they met before aside from the night I introduced them together? Or did they know each other before?

Thankfully, neither of those questions had ever slipped my mouth. It was close enough to, but his soft chuckled came out before I could speak and it was enough to silence the voices in my head. Especially when this time, the small smile he was giving me finally reached his eyes even if I could still see his remorse coming out clearer in them. “I promise. I’m not always like this,” he said. He took a hand off of the wheel and rubbed his palm over his face.

My chest tightened when I saw the distress on his face, and the words just came spilling right out of me before ie realised it.

“I know you’re not.”

His eyes grew wide at my words and his gaze came back to me before his smile returned a bit wider. And he was giving me the one smile that was familiar to my eyes, one that was honest and free. The same exact smile that had me falling in love with him in a different lifetime. With its presence, my heart clenched tight the same exact way it did the first time I fell for him. It felt stricken with longing and despair, while at the same time, it was making me feel warm inside.

“And how would you know that?” he asked me.

While there were lots of different answers that I could choose from, one of them being something which could reveal the secrets that I had been keeping away from him, I held my tongue once again. Keeping things to myself before I could ruin this moment.

But I didn’t hold back from reaching out. I rested my hand on his thigh as I whispered with a sigh, “Because I know you, Jimin.”

I felt his body growing tense under my touch for a brief moment, before he easily softened into my touch. So I carried on, telling him what I needed him to hear. Something that according to my memory was the one thing that I had failed to say to him.

“I know that you are not a violent person or anyone who has any vile intentions,” I told him, while images of Jimin confronting Jungkook at the pub blended together with the sight of him fighting Jungkook at a hospital, something that had come into my dreams more than once. “Anyone else would snap when confronted and riled up the same way it did to you. I’m not putting the blame on anyone but the situation, but you had handled it really well.”

His shoulders fell down with relief and I felt lighter, glad to be able to somewhat reassure him and change the mood after he was feeling down ever since we left. Before I could pull my hand away, Jimin placed his hand on mine and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you for believing in me.”

Laughing a little, I squeezed his hand in return and tried to lighten the mood further. “Now, I also believe that someone had promised me a good night.”

He chuckled without looking away from the road. Though his eyes glistened with a promise and hope in them. “That I did,” he hummed softly, taking my hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss on my wrist before letting me rest my palm on his thigh once again. “I’m taking you to a place that I know you would love. At least, I hope you would.”

“I trust you. As long as I’m with you, I know I’d be happy,” I told him truthfully, knowing that it was exactly how I felt whenever I was with him.

The conversation felt lighter once Jimin had gotten everything that was bothering him out of his chest.

As he continued to drive, we talked about how the whole day went—about his day in campus and his practice, about my job interview and the day I spent with his cousin—sans the part about my meeting with Taehyung since we avoided bringing up any event regarding the pub earlier once again.

The drive felt far and long. The night was getting late, yet I didn’t mind being out so late at all when he made me feel completely safe when I was with him. This trip reminded me of the night he took me out to the city park on new year’s eve, where he took me up to the hill overlooking the city. Except that I knew the destination we were heading tonight was going to be further away from the place where he first kissed me and asked me to be his girlfriend.

It seemed like a long time ago when in fact only months had passed since then. It sure felt like I had been with Jimin for a lifetime when everything just seemed right when we were together.

I kept my hand resting on his lap as he drove on, letting him brush against it once or twice as we talked during the drive. The city passed by alongside us. We had somehow passed the main roads from the city and into the highway, and he kept on driving until the city lights became few and far in between, the buildings that had filled our view out the window were replaced by trees. Then he drove out of the highway, until we were surrounded by nothing but dirt and rock and the asphalt road slowly turned into gravel pathways with scrub bushes lining up on our sides.

“Where are we?” I asked him curiously as the terrain we were passing by turned rough, joined by a few bumps over ruts and ridges as we drove away from the main road and the path started to ascend to a higher altitude.

“Someplace quiet,” he simply said, giving me a secretive smile as the mirth in his eyes grew stronger.

I should be worried or concerned to find us driving to a strange place outside of town. But I only grew curious. The excitement came over me just as the road in front of us cleared out to an opening. The car had been driving further up until we reached to a certain plateau located right at the top of the rocky hills, way higher than the place he had once taken me to look over the cityscape. Way higher than any place that we had ever gone to. As Jimin slowed the car to a halt, I looked out to see the lines of trees and the edge of the cliff opening up to a broad sky over the horizon, the blanket of city lights covering the lower ground was nothing compared to the bright night sky above and the sparkling stars that seemed to welcome our presence.

“It’s not perfect or glorious, but I know that this is the place that you would love the most. A high place, quiet, where you could watch the wide sky above and the stars painting the sky—”

Before he could finish his sentence, I turned to him, finishing his words with a grateful smile and with my heart swelling in warmth, “—an open space where I could breathe the clean, fresh air.”

He turned to look at me. The warm gaze he was giving me spoke a thousand words. The questions were still there, hanging right at the tip of my tongue, but I brushed them away.

Enjoy the moment, I remembered Taehyung said. Enjoy the present. You will find your answers there.

“You were right. You knew exactly what I’d love.”

Jimin leaned in, pressing his lips against mine. His kiss was gentle but enough to bring forth the heat in my belly to want more. But he pulled back before I could have my fill, handing me a blanket to carry.

“Come. We haven’t seen the best part of it yet.”

My eyes grew wide. “We haven’t? You mean there’s more other than you taking me to a secluded place where you could hide me and nobody would find my body?”

Jimin’s head fell back as he laughed. “That sounds tempting, though you were right about this place being secluded,” he said, teasing me with another kiss that was gentle and chaste, letting me have a quick taste with a promise for more. “It’ll be nobody here but us.”

“I bet,” I whispered against his lips. I brushed my hands on the blanket he gave me, just as he reached for another that seemed thick enough for us to lay on top of. “Don’t tell me that we’re going to camp out.”

“Close, but not quite. I remember promising you dinner too,” he teased, giving me a wink before he reached out to the backseat, pulling a whole bag of groceries onto his lap, filled with snacks, chocolate bars, two bottles of mineral water, and best of all, microwave heated mini-market bought lunchboxes. “Our fancy dinner.”

I laughed and kissed him on his cheek. “Perfect.”

This side of the mountains would probably have been scorching hot under the sunlight if Jimin had taken me here during the daytime.

Tonight, however, the sky was clear enough to show all the bright stars overhead. The air was a bit cold and windy, but not so much that it would make me wish we were cuddled up inside his warm car instead of out here in the open air.

Jimin kept a tight hold of my hand as he led me tramping around the landed bushes, jumping over and around a few rocks that we came upon on our path, before we reached the embankment that Jimin had pointed out to when we first arrived in this place. Jimin climbed ahead and pulled me up with him. There was a flat rock on the top, wide enough for us to sit and lie down on, and safe enough to set out our small picnic without being afraid of getting too close to the edge.

This far high up, I could see the plateau over the edge, a wide flat space between hills and valleys, with sparkles of lights coming from the houses and small buildings located down there. I was filled with all nerves and anticipation, the joy of being up and above was mixed together with the fear of falling. But then I looked up at Jimin, and it made me feel all better knowing that we were here together. That he would be there by my side, ready to catch me before I could ever fall down.

We straightened the blanket on top of the flat rock and laid back, looking up at the sky above.

Being there under all of those stars made me feel small and insignificant, as if everything that I had to face and deal with, all the concerns I have had, they all meant nothing. Just a small blip in the universe. A mystery to unfold but never a necessity as we continued to exist.

As if being thrust back into the past had no significant value compared to everything else in this whole universe.

Being under the wide open space overlooking a small part of the universe really brought me to look at things in a new perspective, and suddenly, everything that Taehyung had told me finally made sense.

There was no point in dwelling in the past or the future that had been supposedly written for me or what I was trying to rewrite for myself. What mattered was now, this moment. I looked to my side to find Jimin lying on his side, looking at me. While it felt like I was the only person in the world when I looked up at the sky with all of my concerns weighing me down, looking at him made me feel less lonely. We could be the only two people in the world, and I found there was no need to change any of it all.

“You have that look again,” he mused softly, holding back a smile as he kept his eyes on me.

“What look?”

The smile broke through, and his eyes were filled with mirth when he answered, “The kind of look that tells me you are overanalysing things that are happening.”

I couldn’t help but return his smile, all while holding back from leaning in and kissing his plump lips the way I wanted to. “Do I make that look a lot?”

He merely shrugged. “Sometimes. I’d usually let you because I like seeing all the expression you make.”

There was an emotional tug happening inside my chest. I had gotten used to it at this point to know that it only happened whenever he was around. Whenever I was with him.

“Didn’t know that you’ve been pretty observant,” I could only muse as he grew closer. Our shoulders touching as he leaned in.

“It’s not hard,” he said. “All I had to do was pay attention. A lot of attention. And it’s easy to do that when I’m with you.” He licked his lips when he stopped talking, looking down on mine before meeting my gaze again. “You’re the only one I want to look at the whole time.”

Everything around us was dark, but for some reason, I could still see his face, as if the moonlight and all the stars above had served like multiple spotlights to illuminate him for me. He was probably seeing my face the same way, with limited lights helping him to find me. I could feel his warm breath before I noticed just how much closer he was.

“Will I miss if I try to kiss you right now?” he jokingly whispered to me when his lips were practically brushing against mine already.

I couldn’t help the laughter that came out so easily. “It is pretty dark around here,” I told him, whispering as I tried to reach out, finding his jaw with the tip of my fingers. The night did seem to grow darker at this point. Or perhaps it didn’t feel this way before when he weaved his way through the pathway, using only the flashlight from his phone to guide us. “Should I reach for the flashlight?”

He hummed. “There is no need,” he whispered, before pressing his lips at the tip of my nose. “I can always find you, even in the dark.” Then his lips finally found mine, and I welcomed him with a sigh as I sank down against him on top of the blanket.

His mouth felt like home. His kiss was warm, enough to help me forget about all of my concerns, all of the questions that had been circling in my head. None of them mattered anymore, when he was here, he was real, his hands moving gently up and down the curves and lines on my body over my soft sweater while he slowly pulled me to him, deepening the kiss in the process.

I was breathless when he pulled away, giving me a moment to take a deep breath and control my heartbeat. My palms had somehow found their way onto his chest, pressing down on where his heartbeat was pacing to the touch and the warmth we shared.

The wind blew across the valley, passing us both to remind us about the cool night air. So he pulled another blanket around us, covering us both from the chill autumn breeze. Only to have me grounded further later as he swiftly moved on top of me, his mouth making a trail of kisses from my lips, down to my jawline, then he slowed down as he traced the column of my throat.

His hand made its way to the hem of my sweater, tugging and pulling before he pulled it up so he could touch my bare belly beneath it. While his hand kept tracing upward, finding the elastic band of my bra, his lips continued tracing downward. He laid his head on my chest for a moment, closing his eyes as he listened to my heartbeat. He looked up to me after a moment and he kept his gaze on me when he pressed his lips on my covered breasts, capturing the covered tip between his mouth, releasing it when I sighed only to move to the other.

Weaving my fingers through the strands of his hair, I arched my back, giving him more as his hand slid in and tweaked a nipple from beneath my sweater. In a flashing moment, my sweater was gone, and nothing was getting in the way for him to finally taste my skin. I cried out as his fingers and his mouth worked together, pinching and biting, tuning my whole body as if he knew just which buttons to touch, to play with, to tweak, just to thrust me into the peak of my pleasure.

It didn’t take long before he brought me there, surges of bliss rushing all over my body, centered right at my core where the pulse felt the strongest, where the heat of my body pooled together into a puddle.

His eyes found me again when he brushed away the lacy front of my bra, pushing it down so he could reach more skin. My body was moving against his, my hips rolling in circles in the same rhythm as the pulse that kept rising between my legs. With my legs spread, I pressed my center against his thigh, searching for release by brushing myself against him and I could feel his muscles tensing against me as he pressed himself back to me for a short moment before he continued to move down. My fingers had somehow found their way back through his hair, where I clutched him tight, keeping him close to me at all times even as he was crawling down on me.

His lips spoke of promises and sin, and he revels in the sounds I was making to every bit of ministration he was giving me.

I felt it through his warm breath that came trailing down my skin as he continued climbing lower, his grunts coming out softly with each kiss he gave on my skin. His fingers kept dancing down my curves, as if he wanted to engrave every inch of my skin into his mind, even all the goosebumps that came out from the mixture of his warmth and the cold air around us.

He kissed his way down along my hip bone, his hands were getting busy to unbutton my jeans, freeing me further from any restraints. I lifted my hips when he tugged the waistband lower, only so that he could push my pants away. He swiftly moved his hand between my legs, delving into my panties, until he finally found the source of my pulsing heat.

His fingers danced their way down teasingly at my mound, before he found the cleft and gently spread them open for him, letting him touch me where I needed him the most. His fingers moved around the bundle of nerves hiding between my folds, circling around it until I could hear the slickness of my arousal as he gathered every drop with the tip of his fingers. Each gentle brush he gave sent fireworks through my body, the pleasure kept on rising more and more.

I cried out when he pushed a finger against the slick opening. His thumb pressing down on my throbbing clit as he inched deeper, pushing slowly through the pulsing walls. I barely felt him pushing my jeans and panties lower, exposing me to him. Then his soft tongue licked down between my folds, tasting my essence just as he continued to work his fingers inside my walls to make me release more.

“Jimin!” I called out when he took my swelling clit between his mouth, doing it so before I felt a hint of pressure when he added a finger into my pussy, pushing in and pumping softly. He stopped when he found restraint, pulling back only to push back and reach further inside, letting my walls clench tight around his digits.

“Relax for me, baby,” he grunts against my hot cunt, placing his free hand on my belly to push my hips back down when I had been pushing myself up against his mouth, tensing my muscles at the same time.

Opening my eyes to look down, I found him looking at me with a heated gaze. Hunger and lust were mixed together with the kind of look which had my heart turning warm. I released a deep exhale and let my body relax beneath him.

“Good girl,” he whispered to me, before he came back down, planting his mouth right between my legs again and expertly finding my clit for him to devour. “Now, don’t hold back on me, love. Let go and let me taste you.”

With that, his mouth came back to my nether lips, another finger came to join the others as he worked them in and out of my pussy, sending my legs trembling around his head, my fingers tightening on his hair to hold him down. My hips moved in circles, swivelling and dancing with the same rhythm he made on me to chase the surge of pleasure that continued to rise.

He kissed, licked, bit, all the while pumping his digits continuously against the sweet spot right through the hot entrance of my cunt, and I was instantly thrust into the edge. My climax came to me like a wave of warmth slowly building from my center and flowing around my body. Enveloping me with pure pleasure that had me screaming out into the wind.

A whisper of the cold breeze came upon me just as I shuddered into his mouth, an instant reminder of where we were.

I opened my eyes just as I had his fingers locked tight inside me, my pussy clenching him tight, his mouth locking tight around my clit. As I saw the ocean of stars above our heads, a surreal moment came upon me. It felt like I was flying high, drunk in pleasure and bliss with the stars around us and the moonlight lighting us both.

The sinful thought of him pleasuring me under the wide sky above and of being exposed to the universe pushed me back into another climax, thrusting me off the precipice of my orgasm that I couldn’t even cry out for it being too much for me to handle.

With a gasping sound, I embraced the pure pleasure. Letting myself to be brought up high with his touch, feeling free and elated at the same time as my orgasm came to me in smooth spasms, humming through my body, giving me the most beautiful feeling I have ever felt in the world.

Once the spasms of my release waned down to a shiver, Jimin gathered me in his arms. His touches soothed me as he gently tugged my jeans back in place. He pressed his kisses on my skin as he pulled my sweater back down, covering me from the cold.

“Should I get you warm? Or should I take you home?” he whispered, his lips brushing on my temple before he looked down at me, his eyes glinting with his desire. The haze in my head dissipated under the one word that had me clutching his shirt tight, anchoring him to me to let me know that I was not dreaming.

Home.

Glimpses of my dreams came back to me just then, and once again, I was swamped by a flood of warmth. Hope and love filled my heart, and the answer was clear.

“Take me home.”

—Present life. Jimin’s Apartment, year 2017—

His studio apartment had always felt warm and cozy.

But this night, it felt different. The good kind of different. No matter how often I had spent my time here, sleeping here almost every night instead of back in my dorm, it never truly felt like home unless he was there with me, holding me tight to him. Because he was my home. And though this place was every bit of his, I would still need him as my anchor.

Over the past few months, I had been leaving my things behind, marking my territory in his apartment. Tonight, as we entered his home with his arms wrapped around me, his kisses distracting me from looking around us, I found that the air was filled with the scent of my perfume. It washed over me so suddenly that I broke away from the kiss only to glance around, making sure that we were actually in the right place.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he whispered huskily as he caught my jawline with his mouth simply because he couldn’t stay away.

“Nothing,” I whispered in return, pressing my palms on his chest as I looked around for a few more seconds, sighing dreamily as I caught the sight of the foot of his bed on the far corner before finally letting myself melt into him. “I just—”

I looked up to him, catching his eyes looking down at me with wonders in them. “Your room smells like me.”

Jimin chuckled. “It does. And I love it,” he whispered, giving me a soft peck on the lips before he sheepishly confessed, “Sometimes, when you’re not sleeping here, I’d spray a bit of your perfume into my pillows so it would feel like you were there. I let your perfume sticks around more than mine because I want to feel your presence here.”

I gave him a dubious look. “Oh, Jimin,” I laughed. “That sounds a tad bit creepy yet also endearing I don’t even know how to feel.”

He laughed with me, his head falling back when he did. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

I placed a palm on his cheek, urging him to look at me again before I could kiss his cheek. “I actually like the fact that I’ve marked your place not only with my things but with everything else too.”

He caught my lips in his for a brief moment. “You’re welcome to do more than marking,” he said, suddenly looking a bit hesitant to continue.

“Really?” I asked him, teasingly feigning innocence to him. “Is this your way of asking me to move in with you?”

His lips twitched but he held back his smile. “Would you?”

“Would I what?”

His grin slowly came back, even if his eyes kept glancing away with uncertainty before he finally spoke. “Move in with me.”

I felt my eyes sting. There was something about all of this that made me want to cry. Like there was something inside me that was slowly coming together. Which was why the answer came out easily. “I’d love to. My home is with you, Jimin.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, his gentle smile came back onto his face and I couldn’t stop myself from brushing my lips over his. The quick peck on his lips turned into a hungry kiss when he pressed me tightly against him and kissed me back. I felt his chest rumbling with a deep grunt just as my knees started to turn into jelly. What held me up were his arms around me, keeping me pressed to him before I could even attach my arms around him.

“Take me to bed, Jimin,” I said, breaking the kiss with a sigh.

When I pulled back to pull him into his bedroom, he groaned and refused to let me go. With his arms tightening around my waist, he carried me up, making me kick off my shoes and wrap my legs around his waist as he began to take me into the bedroom, hastily kissing my lips on the way there.

Jimin was almost breathless when he laid me down onto the bed, then climbed up to follow me after kicking his own shoes off. He didn’t wait long before capturing my lips on his again, pinning me right at the center of his bed as if he was afraid I would run away.

“Are you tired?” he asks me softly as he nipped on my jawline, giving me a moment to breathe.

“Kinda. Why?”

He sighed. “I just—you are so irresistible.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Who? Me?”

Instead of answering me, he lowered his head, kissing the side of my neck and I felt all the goosebumps forming on my skin. It was almost the same as they did when he touched me under the clear night sky. Except that it was no longer windy and I was still terribly sensitive to every touch he gave me. “I want to make love to you so bad,” he whispered, not bothering to wait until I responded when he bit down playfully on the exposed skin right above the neckline of my sweater.

He splayed his hand on my stomach, the warmth of his touch seeping through my sweater. Then his hand slipped under the hem, stroking my bare skin, sending tremors through me as he reminded me of how he touched me before.

“You already gave me so much pleasure and made me cum under the stars,” I said to him, my voice shaking and breathless as I arched against his palm.

“I certainly did—” he said, giving me a lazy grin. There was a hint of pride glowing in his eyes, no doubt reminiscing on how he brought me up to bliss right at the top of the hills, where only he and I existed.

Already, my body grew hot with need, calling him to touch me again. His delicate fingers tracing along my belly and up to my breasts felt good, but it was nothing compared to when he slid his fingers down, drifting lower until he could slide under the waistband of my jeans and under my panties so effortlessly as if he already knew every curve and every ridge of my body to find his way.

Jimin pressed his lips at my ear, nibbling gently as he pressed his fingers into my folds, spreading me open. My breath became a rush of short pants as I rocked into his touch and he began stroking me, giving me long, firm thrusts that sent electric shocks up my spine and liquified my bones almost instantly. My hips rolled against his hand and the pleasure peaked incredibly fast, as I was still too sensitive after the intense pleasure he gave me tonight, after what we had shared back on the rocks, after what he made me feel. My panties were still wet, and it was about to get even more drenched as he kept touching me with all the right ways he knew just exactly how to.

“Oh god—” I moaned while my body kept moving on its own accord, seeking release to the mounting pleasure rising inside me. “Jimin, please—”

“So sweet. You always look so pretty when you cum. When you release your climax on my fingers or my tongue,” he murmured while scraping his teeth on my skin, tasting me. “I want you so bad, _____.”

He pushed his fingers inside, pressing his thumb on my clit, and I gasped and shuddered as white pleasure came shooting through me. It came in waves, much softer than the one he gave me before, but it was still enough to send my body quaking in his arms. As I came down, I found myself lying on my back. Jimin was hovering on top of me, licking his fingers clean with a few soft moans rumbling from deep within his throat. Each sound he made rocked something inside me that I felt the urge to touch him.

So I pulled him down on me, kissing his lips hungrily before muttering softly. “Take me, Jimin.”

I kissed him again before he could say a thing, relishing on the taste of his mouth on mine. He had been giving me so much pleasure that I wanted to give it all back to him, to get him naked and vulnerable the same way he did to me on the rocks, or any other times I was with him. The idea of touching him until he would be lost in his pleasure sent shivers down my body. I remembered the beautiful look on his face that he would make when he embraced his pleasure, the wonder in his eyes and the smile that it brought him, and I wanted to see it all again.

Then he suddenly pulled back, his eyes lost in wonders already as he took me in silently. His eyes looking so dark and deep that I felt him embracing me with his gaze.

“What are you thinking?” My voice was hoarse, already deeply affected by him.

“I’m thinking—” he whispered, licking his lips as he ran his gaze down on me one last time before meeting my eyes again. “—that I’m going to take off your clothes, piece by piece.” He reached out to tuck my hair behind my ear, something that I had found to be the small gesture that he loved to do when he touched me, then trailed his fingers down my neck, feeling my pulse pacing beneath his fingertips.

“I’ll kiss you everywhere, taste every inch of your bare skin. And then I’m going to sink inside you so deep you will remember me being a part of you.” His palm rested on my cheek and he leaned in. His eyes were hooded when he looked at me, letting me see the clear desire burning in them when he whispered huskily, “And then, when you come, I’ll make you feel so good that the only thing coming out of your lips would be my name. In fact, I’ll make sure that everyone will hear you when you call my name as I make you come.”

“Jimin—”

My heart raced inside my chest. My whole body was throbbing with excitement, but there was a bit of fear between them as well. I have waited for this moment for a long time, yet the fear of making all the same mistakes, the fear of losing him, everything had always come together to send me to the borders of pain that were so intense that I had always kept holding back.

And now, as he kept telling me everything he wanted to do to me, all the sinful things he wanted to show me as he showed me what he truly felt for me, I knew then that I needed him more than ever.

Jimin lowered his mouth to my exposed neck when I couldn’t find the will to speak, sucking on my pulse, pulling me back to the present while chasing away all of my fears. I knew that I loved him. I always had. And every kiss that he gave me reminded me of that feeling, while he showed me just how much I could trust him. With every kiss he gave me, I slowly began to relax, relishing on the gentle current of pleasure that was beginning to grow stronger inside me I could no longer feel anything but.

His hands dropped to the hem of my sweater and skimmed up to my ribs. As promised, despite the filthy thoughts he placed into my head, he was gentle. Moving so slowly while never looking away, keeping his gaze on my face, on my eyes, as he continued to read through my expression to see if he was crossing the line that I was not ready to go over. That was when I knew that he would always take care of me, just like every single time we were together.

Through my memories, I knew that he had always put me first above all else. The days that I had spent with him had always shown me that he was still the same, so I trusted him for putting me first tonight as he reached up, caressing my breasts through the flimsy fabric of my bra.

His gentle touch played with my mounds until I felt a tight ache forming right at both tips, while at the same time, his kisses traced my pulse along my neck, sending heat pooling between my legs.

“I love touching you like this,” he whispered, making me moan as he slipped my bra down and his hands were on my bare breasts, stealing my breath as he pinched the nipples one at a time. With his touch, the electric currents I felt instantly picked up, rising from my breasts and down to my core.

Then he started peeling my clothes off—my sweater, my bra, making good of his words while kissing every inch of skin that was exposed to his eyes. His lips were soft against my skin when he returned after tossing my clothes away, making me sigh at the connection as he kept climbing down to my chest. But as he licked at the tip of my breast, taking a nipple into his mouth to suck, I arched into his mouth, wanting him to take more.

His hands traced down as he continued to nibble on my sensitive bud and tugged at my jeans. Through my hazy mind, I felt him pulling them off and down my legs, together with my panties, until I was finally completely bare beneath him.

He bent over me, kissing his way down, brushing his lips over my belly, lightly tracing his hot kisses until he reached to my thighs.

“Jimin—I need to touch you,” I whispered, reaching out to his shoulders to let him know just how much I needed to feel his body on mine.

He looked up to me with hooded eyes and a lazy grin. He pushed himself up and began to drag his shirt off, revealing his bare chest to me. He stepped back and climbed off of the bed so he could slide his jeans down his hips together with his briefs, and I immediately lost my train of thoughts. His cock jumped up, bumping against his belly when he straightened himself up. The sight of his length bare and twitching made my core throb. I knew he could see what he did to me when his grin returned and he stroke himself for me.

Jimin opened his eyes to the sound of my soft moan, locking his gaze on mine, giving me his devastating half-smile when he saw me reacting to the sight of him touching himself. He reached over to grab a condom from his pocket, deftly tearing the foil open and swiftly slipping it on before coming back to me.

He leaned over me, stretching his body over mine, and my mind went blank for a moment before I blinked and realised that it was truly happening. His arousal that was pressing hot against my belly became proof that this was real. That he was real.

“You have no idea how beautiful you look, lying naked under me,” he softly whispered, brushing his mouth over my cheek, my jaw, then coming back onto my lips. “Are you sure you want this? Are you sure you’re ready?”

“I want you, Jimin. I want this,” I practically begged him, whining when he pulled back and his lips left my skin.

I’ve wanted this for so long. The words rang inside my head, but I bit my lips to stop myself from saying it out loud. But he must have seen something in my eyes that was telling him just how much I meant every word I said, because I felt it when he finally let go every bit of his inhibitions, and something else grew in his gaze.

Looking deep into my eyes, Jimin made me a promise that had me almost crying. “I’ll be careful. And do things gently so I won’t hurt you.”

Blinking the tears away, I reached out to cup his face. “I’m not made of glass, Jimin.”

He smiled, looking both sad and relieved when he sighed and whispered, “I know you’re not.”

Jimin kissed me again, taking it slowly and gently this time. Then he was pressing into me, his hand reaching between us to guide himself at the center of my heat. He kept whispering my name as he slowly pushed in, spreading me apart as he slid deeper, stopping briefly to kiss my lips to distract me right before he suddenly gave a little push, filling me up entirely with his girth. It was shocking and painful and amazing at the same time that I couldn’t even make a sound. The only thing that came out of my lips was a breathless cry, and my body arched towards him instead of moving away. Soothing me from the shock, Jimin began kissing my neck, my breasts, my mouth, until I finally began to relax and the pain began to fade. I felt full and hyperaware of his existence inside. The thought of our bodies joining together made me clench around him tightly. As if my body wanted to keep him there.

“How are you doing?” he asked me, his voice sounded strained as he held very still on top of me, afraid to move and to hurt me by moving too soon.

But I was no longer hurting.

As the pulsing pain began to form into something else entirely new, something else that felt wonderful, I gave him a reassuring smile to stop him from worrying. “I’m okay. You can continue now.”

My answer made him chuckle, then he exhaled softly before beginning to shift. His hands were pressing onto the bed, then one moved to my hips to hold me as he began pulling out, pushing back inside, moving steadily slow at first before the muscles inside my walls allowed him to move more easily.

“You feel so good, ______. So fucking good around me,” he grunted, and his pace began to pick up.

With each drag of his hardness inside me, the pleasure mounted gradually. A throbbing, maddening pulse began to rise from the depth of my core, rising along with the pressure coiling around my middle, sending me breathless, my brain was muddled as it was thrust into a certain height of bliss.

As my body adjusted and I was slowly getting used to the rising rush of pleasure, my hips were lifted against him and I clutched at his back, drawing him deeper inside.

“Fucking hell, _______,” he cursed as I clenched, gritting his teeth before he increased his pace, pumping his cock in and out of me more frantically until my head spin and his body grew tight against me.

He was close, I could feel it. Just as I was coming close to my own end.

Kissing me again, Jimin tried to make it last by kissing my nipples, my neck, taking my mouth again to swallow the moans that I didn’t even realise I was making. I must have been calling for his name in the midst of crying in pleasure because I could feel him smiling into the kiss.

“You drive me fucking crazy, _____,” he whispered against my mouth while continuing to work on his hips, pounding gently into me even though his pace had grown more rapidly than it did before. “I don’t know how long I could last. You’re so tight around me.”

“I—I think I’m close. Come together with me, Jimin.”

He thrust his cock inside me again and again, every time he came back it felt better than the last when the tip of his shaft pushed through my walls until he reached so deep, right the hilt. Jimin let out a moan and rolled his hips while I continued to move mine, chasing him and chasing our release together.

He rocked inside me, going as deep as he could reach until I cried out his name. I clenched tight around his cock and he pounded straight into me, hitting all the right spots, sending me jolts of pleasure with each thrust which then became my undoing.

Sparks came shooting up from my core just as he began twitching between my clenching walls. The feeling of him quaking inside me set me on fire. The flame of my pleasure burning me deep inside before I finally plunged over the edge. My orgasm must have triggered his own to come, as the moment I cried out his name with each intense pulse of my climax, he erupted inside me and into the condom with a deep groan, a soft whimper following behind as the spasms of his release rocked him to the core.

It took a while until the waves of my climax began to come down into smaller spasms. It took his soft touches and his gentle kisses to bring me back, to help me open my eyes until I saw him. Somehow, I must have blacked out. Because he was already lying on my side, his heartbeat still rapid as I rested my head on his chest, while my own body was still humming with the remnants of my climax.

“Are you okay, baby?”

I closed my eyes, refusing to let my tear drop when the first thing he did after our first lovemaking was to make sure that I was doing alright. Sighing contently, I looked up to his face and gave him a smile.

“That was amazing,” I whispered to him, pressing my lips on his bare chest while pressing my body tightly against him, just so I could feel his warmth around me.

I felt his lips brushing against my temple. “I didn’t hurt you?” he asked me as he tilted my chin up, making me return his gaze.

“No, it felt so good.” I swallowed deeply, making sure that my voice would stay steady when I said the words that had been hanging right at the tip of my tongue ever since the moment he claimed me. “I love you, Jimin.”

He sighed deeply. “I love you too, _____,” he whispered. Then he kissed my lips, gently, before finally letting me go once he realised just how exhausted I was. “Go to sleep, _____. I’ll be here when you wake up,” he promised me, kissing my face as he bid me goodnight and started pulling the blanket to cover our bodies, still naked and entangled on his massive bed.

With my body growing lax, the exhaustion engulfed me like a tidal wave and I began to slip away into slumber with his arms around me. Too tired to even say goodnight to him, I kissed his palm when he ran his fingers through my hair. The last thing I felt was his lips pressing gently on the top of my head. I barely heard his voice, already falling into my dreamless sleep when he faintly whispered to me—

“I’ve waited for you and for this moment for a long time.”

—First life. St. Vincent’s Hospital, year 2027—

“Are you sure you will be okay with this?”

I tilted my head as I waited for his answer. Jimin merely gave me a meek smile, his eyes were drooping lazily as he returned my gaze. Funny how the situation had turned around. When only a few weeks ago, he was the one who first came into my room, asking for my permission to join me in my bed. Tonight, I was the one waiting for him to invite me in, while he was the one who needed the companion.

“I’m sure,” he whispered softly with his voice sounding low and hoarse, as if he needed everything in him just to get those words out of his lips. “In fact, I’m sure you will only make it better,” he chuckled lightly as he patted the side of the bed.

I looked away, following his dainty hand, thin and sickly pale that it almost matched the colour of his linen sheets. The sight nearly broke me down that I had to close my eyes before I could look into his eyes again. Just as our gazes met, he must have seen the hesitance building up inside me, because he slowly began to shift on the bed and scoot backwards, leaving a small space beside him just enough for me to squeeze in.

His movement was careful, doing his best to shift around under the restraint of the infusion tubes attached to his arm. Settling on his side as he waited for me to climb on top of the bed, I could hear him breathing heavily, letting me know just how much that subtle move had already drained enough of his energy.

“Come here,” he said, patting the empty side of the bed once again to beckon me close. “Don’t worry, they change the sheets every time they have a chance to.”

I gave him a light scoff, chuckling softly on his effort to make a light joke. As if I had to be reminded of the hospital’s routines when I had to endure and witness all the same thing as well. Jimin’s eyes kept forcing themselves to close, yet he was persistent, holding back from dozing off just to make sure he would see me come to bed with him. So I gave in. With a sigh, I set up the IV stand that I had dragged along with me all the way from my room to be next to his bed, before I crawled on top of it. It was a struggle to climb up, as I had to maneuver everything from locking my wheelchair in place, to pushing myself up and onto the bed. My flimsy pyjamas kept getting in the way while my stiff back made it hard for me to move easily. I was glad to have taken enough painkillers to numb down the pain, even if it was just a tad, or else I wouldn’t even be able to move at all with how strained my spine had become for the past few weeks.

“Be careful,” Jimin whispered when I let out a hiss the moment I pulled my legs up. I responded only with a smile and a soft murmur of, “I’m okay,” as I held back the pain and settled down beside him, trying not to make him too worried about me when he already had too much to deal with in his current condition. It took me a while, with careful shifts and turns, before I finally managed to lie down next to him.

As we laid on our sides, facing each other with our hands entangled together, I let myself get lost in his eyes while he kept his gaze locked on me. For a moment, everything else around us seemed to disappear, just like how it always had been whenever we held on to each other like this. Every painful moment of our battles against our demons, the illness that was eating up our souls from within, seemed so far away. His painful treatments and therapies, the forthcoming life-threatening surgery I was set to deal with within the next few weeks, all seemed irrelevant.

All the fright and pain seemed insignificant compared to his warmth and comforting touch, but I still held his hand tightly in mine, afraid that he may disappear once I let go.

Being in this hospital for a long time, everything around us had become redundant. We had somehow gotten used to the scents, the mixture of antiseptics and drugs, all the voices coming from the hallways even as we were asleep at night, and the chill temperature in our rooms that had always felt like ice picking into our skin. Even the pain that we both had to endure became a part of us, expected but never welcomed, as if they would always be there, the eerie reminders of why the both of us had ended up in this place together.

Yet everything became bearable because of Jimin. Because we had each other.

By now, the nurses and doctors no longer found it odd to find us sleeping side by side at night. A few requests had even been made to have us being roomed together to make it easier for us to be with each other, since the night trips down the hallways to each other’s rooms had started to become obstacles that were getting in the way of our recovery.

But every trip, even with its pain and exhaustion, had been worth it. Our nights together had kept us strong. They gave us both hope, something to look forward to.

Even when the days like this one would come, when either one of us would be taken away for our special ’treatments’ and ‘test runs’, before we were returned into our rooms only half of what we were before we had left.

“How was it?” I bit my lip the moment I realised that I was questioning him the one thing I knew he would be most reluctant to talk about. I knew how hard the day had been for him, because I had been there too. Despite my worries, I wasn’t sure if making him relive everything that he had gone through today would be a good idea, but sometimes talking about it helped, which was why it came almost instinctively for me to let him talk about it.

When his gaze was shadowed with disdain, I instantly regretted for even asking. Yet, he quickly smiled, chuckling lightly with his eyes closed before he answered, “It was marvellous. Astounding, joyful, completely relaxing. My whole body feels light, just like air, and now I am as strong as ever.”

The last words he said was accompanied by a bitter chuckle. When he opened his eyes again, they were glowing with unshed tears, and my chest tightened.

“It was that bad, huh?” I could feel my throat tightening, my voice cracked as I held back my tears. I hated what his treatments would do to him. Nobody should wake up early in the morning only to face an entire day of painful procedures. The only reprieve I could have about him getting through them was knowing that these procedures were the ones keeping him alive, giving him more time to fight as they tried their best to find the exact cure to free Jimin from his demons.

“I survived. There is nothing more fun than having people pricking and poking on your skin, and needles being jabbed through your tailbones,” he stopped, his lips twitching as he grimaced in defeat, as if he could still feel everything happening as he was talking about it. “At least I didn’t have to see it when they drew the blood from my be—”

I stopped him from finishing the sentence by pushing myself forward and landing a kiss on his lips. It startled him at first, before he sighed and returned them. Our dry lips meshed together into one in a delicate manner, too afraid to add any more pressure as either of us refused to hurt the other, even if we were desperate for one another.

His smile was present when I pulled back. His gaze softened as he opened his eyes, the pain and anger he felt almost gone when he looked at me. I didn’t move too far away, staying close with my hands on his chest just to feel our bond.

“I’m sorry for asking,” I told him, lowering my eyes to avoid his gaze. The next thing I felt was his chapped lips pressing on my forehead.

“It’s okay. A kiss can always make it better,” he said to me with a grin. My shoulders started to fall with relief, my fingers tracing the collar line of his pyjama top absentmindedly until I grazed his skin, and felt his prominent collarbone under the tip of my fingers.

“Don’t—” he hissed, surprising me enough that I started to pull my hand away with guilt. Except that he caught my hand before I could and kept it there. As I looked up into his eyes, I knew that he was not talking about how he didn’t want me to touch him. I didn’t understand it until he reached out to me, brushing the tear that I didn’t realise have made its presence on my face.

A sob finally escaped me, while he gave me a sad smile as he kissed my knuckles.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “Don’t feel sorry for me. Don’t feel sad for me.”

“I’m not—” I sobbed, clutching his hand that was holding mine so desperately. “It’s not that. It’s—”

He raised his eyebrows as he looked at mine, which he later kissed to make my frown go away. I relaxed against him when he kept his lips pressing there, giving me a chance to find my voice again before I could continue to speak. “I feel sorry for both of us.”

Jimin pulled me closer and let me rest my head on his shoulder. He did everything ever so gently, knowing that he would risk pulling the infusion tube that was attached to my forearm if he had tugged me too hastily.

“It will be over soon,” he whispered. I could feel his lips pressing on my thinning hair, his breath falling on my temple. He still had his hand holding mine in one, as the other was rubbing my back. The pyjama top I was wearing suddenly felt too thick on my skin. His touches felt too delicate that they were barely there.

“Soon, there will be no more of these cables, tubes, needles. No more nurses and doctors poking our bodies or running those tests on us. No more nauseating drugs and stale hospital meals. And there will be music around us instead of the sounds of the steady heart monitors we keep hearing from down the halls,” he kept whispering to me in a soothing voice. His body, his touch, his kisses, and his words started to replace the cold temperature in the room as I relaxed further in his hold.

“Soon, we will be sleeping in our comfy bed, in our own bedroom instead of these suffocating hospital rooms. And we will be able to walk and run freely with our heads held high without having to lean on the walls or being pushed on wheelchairs wherever we want to go. Soon, we will be walking out of here, our bodies strong enough, our face less pale, and our hair thickens. And I will be holding your hand as we do so.”

I kept my eyes close as I listened to him, picturing everything in my head until they all felt real. “That does sound nice. Every single one of it,” I told him with a sigh, pressing my cheeks on his chest to listen to his heartbeat. “Where should we go first after we leave here?”

“Hmmm—” his voice was soft with the familiar hum which I loved when he thought about it for a moment. “First, I will take you out on a date. I will make up for all the dates I had promised you and missed. The list is already so long, so I know we won’t be done with each and one of them in one day.”

“Obviously,” I chuckled.

“We can start light. I can take you to a fancy coffee shop. We will find the hippest one in the city, the one that youngsters love to hang out in. Because I know how much you love your panini.”

“Um,” I moan playfully, earning a deep chuckle rumbling from his chest. “Yes, I do.”

“And then we could go to the movies. No horror movies, just some of those drama flicks you like most. And then we’ll go shopping, and we could go sightseeing in the city—” he continued. I could clearly see his eyes glazing when I looked up to him, lost in wonder, and it was much better than the usual painful look they usually emitted at the end of his treatments. So I said nothing, opting to listen to his words instead and joined him in imagining us going through every part of his plan.

In our minds, we were healthy. With no restrictions in our bodies to hold us back from walking and running, and laughing together while we were at it, as we were enjoying our lives together just the way we had planned them to.

“What if we run out of places to visit just in the city alone?” I asked him. “Pretty sure we would be bored with going to the malls and the zoos after a while. I’m okay with sitting in the park during our free time and the frequent trips to the coffee shop, but what then?”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, closing his eyes. The wondrous look in his gaze returned when he opened them a little bit later. “I really want to take you to other places, of course. I would love to take you for a whole weekend down the beach.”

“The beach?”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “Wouldn’t it be nice? I mean, I love going to the mountains and all, but the beach would be a really good idea after we spend weeks inside these walls without the sun falling on our skin, don’t you think?”

“The warm sun does sound more lovely compared to this,” I answered him while snuggling closer, searching for the warmth that I could barely acquire from my pyjamas and the hospital’s blanket alone. Jimin tightened his arm around me, either knowing that I needed it and also needing to warm himself at the same time.

“We can stroll down the beach, the white sand slipping between our toes. I would chase you down as we run with the waves, probably dunk you into the water once I catch you,” he said, chuckling when I swatted his chest.

“You know I hate wearing wet clothes,” I protested with a pout, making him laugh.

“Who said we’ll be wearing full clothes on?”

I looked up at him with a frown. “What are we wearing then?”

Licking his lips, he looked down to stare at mine. “We’ll be in swimming suits, of course. You’ll be wearing the bikini you once showed me, the yellow pair you wore in your photos from college, and I’d wear a trunk that is just as revealing as yours.”

I started picturing us in the same way he described it. Before I could even stop it, I felt my smile fading, as my own insecurities blanketed me.

“What? What’s wrong?” he lifted my chin gently so that I was staring straight into his eyes. And I realised then that I was mirroring his frown. Although when his face was showing curiosity, mine was giving him something else.

“Nothing,” I whispered.

He shook his head. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I just—” I could only sigh, hating the feeling I was having, dreading the lump that was stuck in my throat. His imagination and his dream were all beautiful. But I was not. “Look at me. I look ugly. I can’t imagine myself wearing those outfits again, revealing myself to you like that. Everything about me has changed so much since I got sick. I could never return to how I was before—”

“Stop saying that. You are beautiful,” Jimin scolded me, stopping me by pressing his thumb on my quivering lips. His eyes were dark, but his voice was soft. And it only got even softer when he spoke, “I don’t care if you will look different, if the bikini won’t fit you anymore. You are beautiful.”

I lost every word that I was going to say, not having a chance to answer him when he leaned in to kiss me, drowning my thoughts and insecurities and replacing them with comfort as he pressed his lips on mine. He never stopped until I stopped crying, until I returned the kiss with my own and stopped with a content sigh. He pulled away with a gentle smile on his face, looking at me just as I mirrored his smile. The terrible, painful thoughts no longer bothered me as much as they did. Not when he was looking at me the way he did. Like I was something special.

But then I began chastising myself for being so vulnerable. This had been such a tough day for Jimin, and I was supposed to be the one comforting him by coming here. Not the other way around. Again, as if he could read my thoughts, he pulled me back to him by tilting my chin up and forcing me to look at him instead of avoiding his eyes and getting too lost in my head.

“Do you want to know what I think about when I picture myself taking you to the beach?” he asked me all so suddenly, and I nodded.

“I do want to know. What do you have in mind?”

Jimin’s lips curled into a sly grin. His glazed eyes filled with mirth as he held my hands, pressing them on his chest when he spoke,

“I want to lay you down on the sand when night comes, hold you close to my chest as we look up at the stars in the sky, the sound of waves running in the background would be the perfect music for our night together. And then I will kiss your lips—” he stopped, leaning down to give me a chaste kiss right on the corner of my lips, “—and your nose.” I laughed softly when he kissed the tip of my nose, teasingly pressing his kiss a bit longer before pulling away so he could continue.

“I will continue kissing you, down to your chin and then to your neck. I will probably lick your collarbones, finding the sensitive parts where they tickle,” he said, grinning wide when I laughed.

“You know which spots they are,” I told him, earning his wide smile in return.

“I do know,” he said. “And I will kiss them all, before I continue lower.”

I raised my eyebrows, curious to listen to his plans even more. “How much lower?”

Jimin bit his lips. His eyes slowly turned away from my face and he looked down between us.

“I will start from your breasts, although I might have to take your top off first,” he said, keeping his eyes on my chest.

A gasp came out of me and I instantly pulled my hands away from him, crossing them over my chest and looked away when my face felt hot. “But—they no longer look the way they used to, and—”

“And perfect for my small, skinny hands,” he cut me off while prying my hands away and held them close to his chest again. He lifted my face with his finger on my chin and said, “They are the softest thing in the world, ____. And I love to admire them. To touch them, to kiss them.”

And he kissed me. Right on my lips, before I ever got a chance to respond. “I remember you being sensitive there,” he whispered, keeping his forehead pressed on mine while his hand brushed gently on my covered breasts from over my pyjama top.

“I’m sensitive everywhere. Whenever you touch me,” I whispered. My heartbeat started racing as I felt his palm kneading my breast softly, moving carefully so he wouldn’t hurt me. His touch made me shudder, and I almost failed to process his words before he moved his hand to my back, pulling me closer to him, while his other hand stayed behind, pinching gently on my hardened nipple until I gasped against his lips. I could barely question how or why this conversation had suddenly led to this, and I could only guess where he was leading this to. I knew because his eyes were telling me all of his intentions as they looked at me with darkness behind their sleepy glow.

“So would you let me touch you then? Without anything getting in the way, I mean. Would you let me kiss you there?” he asked, practically begging me softly with an adorable look on his face that I just had no choice but to nod. Smiling to me to show how my response had pleased him, he leaned in, tracing my jawline with his kisses while he whispered, “I will take my time, taking one peak and lick it, bite you tenderly until I feel the tip of your breast hardening in my lips. And then I will do the same to the other—”

“Jimin—” I gasped. And my body suddenly started heating up all over, from my chest and down to my core. He pressed his lips on my neck, right where I pulsed for him, and I almost came right away just from listening to his words and feeling his gentle kiss alone.

“Are you going to push me away?” he asked me, nipping at the tender skin on my neck when he felt me shuddering against him.

“N-no—” I shifted on the bed, moving my legs and started pressing them together to tone down the intense pulse rising inside my core.

“Good, because then I can continue kissing you,” he whispered, pressing his lips on mine before he pulled me in until our chests were pressing each other. “I will kiss every part of your skin until you arch your chest, pressing your body to me. Then I will continue lower, kissing down your stomach, licking around your navel until you reach down to pull my hair. Just don’t pull me too hard, I might lose the hair that I have grown by then.”

I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. Appalled to how he could still throw a little joke in the middle of his sweet yet sinful talk. “Stop, you’re being silly.”

“You love me being silly,” he immediately responded. His lips turned to a smirk when I glanced up, making me want to kiss it away. But he had my body pressing close to his, making it hard for me to reach up. All I could reach was his neck, and that was where I let my lips rest, making him chuckle before he grunted softly when I nipped at his skin playfully in return just before he continued to whisper, “And I bet you will stop thinking that I am being silly once I reach your bikini bottom and start lowering them down your legs.”

I hid my face on the nape of his neck as I groaned desperately, the heat between my legs making its appearance once more. But I didn’t stop him.

“I will shift between your legs, never stop kissing you until I am there—licking, and sucking, and drinking every drop of your release until you scream my name.”

“Oh, Jimin,” I gasped. My body reacted before my mind could even process it. I was pressing my whole body onto him, my legs rubbing each other in desperate need to press the intense throbbing that was happening between them.

“Would you like that?” he whispered, sounding breathless when he spoke to me. His own desire was coating his words and I felt him trembling against me.

“Hmm—” I sighed, not even minding that he had one of his legs slipping between mine and I was practically grinding on his thigh. “Yeah, I would like that a lot.”

Jimin fell silent for a moment. But I could feel his eyes on me, studying my face while I had my eyes closed, embracing the warmth that was throbbing inside me, started deep within my core before it began to spread all over my body. I hummed softly as I was enjoying the warmth coming out of his body, when I focused on his thigh that was pressing down the heat between my legs. I waited until my heartbeat steadied and opened my eyes.

“Do you think I would stop there?” he asked, smiling gently as he watched me slowly falling apart.

“Oh? You won’t?”

“No, that’s just the beginning, my love,” he shook his head, pressing his thigh harder onto my heat. The pressure hit right where I needed him and I instantly started grinding against it while his words came flowing as if he was guiding me into making love to his body. And I complied with my eyes closed, my body dancing through his words, my hips kept swivelling with the same rhythm of his heartbeat under my palms.

“Once you come down from your climax, I will lift your legs, open them apart so I can move between them. I’ll keep touching your skin and kissing all over your body while I crawl on top of you. I won’t stop kissing you, and I will only look into your eyes when I make love to you under the stars and the moonlight. The sky and the universe as our witness. You will keep your eyes on the night sky, at the bright stars lighting us from above when I am deep inside you, filling you up until all you could see is more stars. I will bring you pleasure, the kind that you had never felt before, until your body explodes to another climax while you are in my hands.”

And that was it.

His words pushed me right into the edge, my hips moving voluntarily as I pictured him making love to me, his hands strumming my whole body the way his words did it to me. With each throb of need, I pressed my hips down, pressing myself harder onto his thigh while my hips rubbed against his covered hard-on. We moved together as I continued to swivel, rolling my hips against his body, thrusting my pulsing heat against his thigh, chasing my end. His voice started fading out when my whole body shuddered, the rush of pleasure came climbing up steadily until it reached to the peak, and I came apart with his arms around me. I kept whimpering his name, gasping for breath in between as the electric waves of bliss came coursing through my body. He never let go of me as he kept whispering to me sweet nothings, kissing my face gently until I was coming down from my high and I started to calm down.

“That was—” I gasped, when a few small spasms of my orgasm ran through me with his hands rubbing on my back. I gave him a smile which he returned with his own. “All of it, it all sounded beautiful.” I licked my lips, and let out a soft chuckle. “And completely unsanitary.”

Jimin laughed, sounding delighted and relieved. And then he kissed me, as gentle as he possibly could, yet still deep and intense. It felt like giving me my release had him letting go of his own apprehension. I was beginning to dread the fact that he had pleasured me while I failed to help him reach his end, until I felt his soaked pants and saw the dark stain forming between his legs that had proven otherwise. I was breathing a sigh of relief when he tilted my face up again.

“Will you do it with me one day? Run away to a place where we could be alone, together, just the two of us? Make love to me under the stars?” he asked me while looking deep into my eyes.

“I’ll go anywhere with you,” I answered him without ever looking away so he could see that I meant what I said. “You know that I’ll be happy as long as I’m with you, Jimin.”

Jimin’s eyes widened for a brief moment. I could see through them glints of happiness, hope, and joy, before they all disappeared in a blink and he was breaking down in front of me again. He pulled me into a deep hug, just when I felt myself breaking down with him. Neither of us could allow ourselves to pull away, to see the unspoken truth that lingered between us, that was shown through our eyes when they finally met each other again.

And then, as he gently pressed his lips on the top of my head, I felt him smiling through his tears.

“Everything will be okay,” he whispered. It was never clear whether he was trying to convince himself or to calm me down, but I took it all in, allowing the hope that was coating his sentence to reside in my chest.

“We’re going to be okay,” I said then, as I kept breaking down silently with tears.

“Yes, we are.” He kissed my forehead, repeating the words over and over again until his voice started to sound heavy with sleep. A sign that his medicine had finally taken effect on him. That our little tryst was enough to make him feel a bit more relaxed than he was before.

“Go to sleep, Jimin,” I told him as I wrapped my arms around him, feeling myself being dragged into the darkest of night at the same time, when my own body started to give in to sleep. I was halfway into my dreams when I heard his voice speaking softly to me,

“Thank you, ______. Good night.”

That night, I dreamt of us making love under the stars.

The ground and the plateau around us became nothing else but a blanket of darkness, overshadowed by the bright night sky above. Nothing else mattered but us, together, joined as one. Everything else became insignificant when all I could see, and feel, was him. And I could never look away from him as he made love to me, making me whole again while he brought me pleasure. Nothing else could make me look away, for he was the most beautiful star in my eyes, and he was the only one who could mend every piece of my broken soul until I was completed once again.

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chrisevansgoodgirl · 4 years

Text

light of my life, fire of my loins. be a good baby, do what i want.

summary: requested: Andy Barber gives me such strong sugar daddy vibes I haven’t watched the show but he just looks like the kinda guy who would spoil the shit outta someone

warnings: smut everywhere. and you know, sugar daddy shit, so. also, doesn’t make a lot of sense. I have a lot more that I actually wrote, I just wasn’t sure where I was going with this. so...prompt sugar andy daddy if you want more???

word count: around 10,400

pairing: andy barber x reader

a/n: anon! I want you to know that I started working on this as soon as you requested it! I just wanted to make sure I really got sugar daddy andy down and that it wasn’t steve rogers that I was writing. I am so sorry bc you definitely deserved this a very long time ago! if there are any typos, I apologize, I just needed to get this posted before work.

When you met Andy, you had been juggling three jobs, gaining more debt than you would probably ever be able to pull off even with a degree, fairly sucky grades caused by how much you worked, resulting in stress, anxiety, all that great shit that comes along with being someone in America that dares to want to pursue higher education.

After a few months dating Andy, you had one job that you only kept for autonomy reasons, shrinking debt, excellent grades, and truly, no stress at all. Instead of spending a night waiting tables at the restaurant near the campus, where disgusting men would flirt with you because you were on the clock and literally could not leave, you were in a tiny ass dress, covered in diamonds, drinking champagne, and trying not to be too obvious about the cum dripping down your thighs.

Obscene was often a word that you played with in your mind whenever you were with Andy. Your outfits were indecent because he loved seeing as much of your skin as he possibly could. Your behavior was shameless, you showed up, you laughed, you hung onto him the entire night with the smuggest of smiles. Your willingness, especially in public, was vulgar, the way you let him touch you in front of everyone. Salacious. Indecorous. Immoral. Debauched.

These parties that he took you to were only half of it. According to his son, Jacob, Andy hadn’t been one for socializing before the divorce. He claimed that this was something new his father picked up, something that he theorized was the consequence of loneliness. You figured that you also fell under that category. These people weren’t actually his friends and you weren’t actually his girlfriend.

Andy wanted a distraction and you were just fucked up and high-maintenance enough to be perfect for the job. Getting into the swing of things had been quite the task at the start, much to your surprise. Who didn’t want a gorgeous man to spoil them? Apparently you, if your earlier behavior was any indication.

You had started this with wanting to be as professional as possible. When you had pictured how this would look, it was you listening to him speak whenever he wanted, you would respond when prompted but it would be short, succinct, and your main concern would be maintaining your physical attractiveness. You tried to think of him as your employer, you were his employee, and that meant that there needed to be respect and boundaries. You pictured a lot of pretending. Pretending to laugh, pretending to care, pretending to enjoy his company, pretending to come.

You had also thought you were going to smart. This wasn’t some stupid Lifetime movie and you had dreams and goals and if you played your cards right, this man could put you on a sure path to reaching all you had ever hoped to accomplish. At least, that was what you were telling yourself when you’d had the mental quandary: were you a prostitute?

Thankfully, both phases of resistance had been dropped—possibly around the first time he went down on you. You were no expert, but “professional” probably barred him from fucking you in about 90% of his chosen locations. And whether you were a “prostitute”, an “escort”, a “hooker”, or whatever other demeaning word anyone could come up with, was another unimportant matter. Anyone could call you anything, at the end of the day, you had money.

It was supposed to be clean, a black and white exchange where you showed up and he paid you. At any point, you could step on the brakes, he could step on the brakes—something you had once found relief in, but was now a source of insecurity, not that you would ever tell him that. He didn’t need to know about your life, what you wanted to do after school, who your friends were, your shaky relationship with your parents, the reasons why someone like you wanted to enter this relationship.

But he asked about those things because rules seemed to either not exist to him, or they just weren’t meaningful. And you hadn’t felt pressured to answer or anything, if that was the case, you would have just lied. The fact of the matter was that eventually you told him these things because you didn’t mind him knowing about your life.

He was not supposed to be kind or smart or interesting. He was not supposed to be a good guy. Clearly, he didn’t get the memo. There should be an official organization that lets men know you can’t just be perfect and spoil someone if you look anything like Andrew Barber.

It was the middle of April in Massachusetts and that meant it was still just a little too chilly for the slinky slip Andy had picked out for you, but that was what all the champagne was for. You were buzzing and it wasn’t just that you were getting drunk. Summer was approaching and he often spoke about all of the things he wanted to do with you now that you had more free time and he gave you these looks and you could just get lost in his eyes and plans even though you knew better.

You had been doing this long enough that people had finally stopped staring. The first few times Andy brought you, they were blatant and downright rude, but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it. Despite the disproportionate wealth shared amongst this group, it wasn’t too often that someone brought along a much younger woman that they were undoubtedly paying. Most of these men were married and either brought their wives along or tales of their affairs.

The rich people here treated this like an elite group, so when people like you were around, not everyone was welcoming. The other few women that had similar situations to yours were kind enough and tried to get to know you better—shared experiences create great friendships, right? Andy didn’t think so, he discouraged any type of communication and claimed that it was because they didn’t tend to stick around long. You theorized he just didn’t want you spending time with anyone that wasn’t him.

The woman across from Andy, Francesca, had been around for as long as you could remember. She had long, dark brown hair, flawless eyebrows, a great jawline, and an even greater ass. She was a few years older than him and several older than you.

You often pondered just how much more interesting than you she was. See, she had never hidden that she was attracted to him, but Andy seemed oblivious. You couldn’t tell if he actually was or was just pretending not to notice. You told yourself it was deeper than just the age, that there was another, much different reason that he wasn’t interested in her.

But, of course, you couldn’t ask. You couldn’t talk to him about other women because that was teetering on the edge of possessiveness and jealousy. Those were two of the few luxuries that you would be denied. Romance would not be found here, just a lot of mutual lust and understanding.

She laughed at something he said, pulling you back into the moment. As you sipped on your champagne, you returned to your favorite activity at these parties: people watching. You were starting to pick up on some of the drama and whatever blanks were left at the end of the nights, Andy usually filled them for you.

There were certain types of men that always bred the most scandalous scenarios. Those are the same few men that had only just recently stopped trying to buy you away from Andy by offering you more money than he was paying you. Yes, technically, that was what you were here for, but Andy was not like these men.

For starters, most everyone in attendance was a lawyer. They followed the model of: the worse the job was, the better the pay. Unlike them, Andy didn’t represent sleazy, rich rapists or murderers. That was just the start of the differences. He didn’t get so drunk that he caused a scene at these parties, he didn’t touch drugs, and he wasn’t going through some tragic midlife crisis that he was trying to placate with cars or women.

When you looked back at the pair, Andy was texting and Francesca was eyeing your hand around the glass were sipping from. She was looking at your rings—oh, your rings. You loved your rings.

Originally, you’d thought you weren’t going to ask for or accept anything stupid. You just needed your bills paid, your rent, your car. You wanted to be able to eat more than once a day. Andy quickly realized that you wouldn’t ask, if he wanted you to have something, he was just going to have to give it to you.

(On your very first date, he’d given you a diamond bracelet. You had been stunned, maybe even a little uncomfortable. It was hard to accept such expensive items from strangers. However, you did like it and wore it almost every day even though it made no sense with most of your outfits. You’d simply grown fond of it because it had come from him.)

(On the fourth date, he gave you a three-strand diamond necklace that strongly resembled a collar. You adored it, not the way you adored your rings, but it still gave you butterflies whenever he would clasp it around your neck and then kiss the skin directly under it. These were things that he’d called gifts, but you recognized them for what they actually were, signs of ownership.)

The first ring had been a reward. You’d made it through midterms, so he took you to the jewelry shop that’s on the way back to your apartment from his house. After three hours and a lot of wine—you’d needed to be drunk the first few times you knew he was spending money on you—you left with the tiara ring for your pinky finger. It was a loud piece of intricate curls on top of and underneath a row of tiny hearts. This ring was the most special, the first, you rarely ever took it off—only for school.

The second had been an apology. He’d convinced you to spend the night at his house even though he knew you really didn’t want to. He had kissed your neck and your face and had two of his fingers inside you, he had whispered all the things he still wanted to do to you that night. Around two in the morning, you’d gone to get water from the kitchen. You were in a pair of panties and one of Andy’s shirts that you didn’t bother to button up. That was how you were dressed when you met his son for the first time. Two days later, you had the butterfly ring in its spot at the base of your index finger. It was gaudy and expensive but did little to quell your anger and humiliation. You loved it, nonetheless.

The third had been an anniversary present. This relationship had reached its 100-day mark, he took you to his favorite restaurant, the same one he had taken you to for your first date. Which wasn’t romantic at all, there were a lot of terms being discussed. This time had been much different. He asked you for your hand and slipped the ring onto your third finger without a word, he merely eyed the only empty finger with the unstated promise that that finger would soon have one as well. It was this huge oval cut diamond that covered the width of your finger, atop two bands of smaller but still fairly large identically cut diamonds.

A little less than three weeks after that, it had been…well, you still weren’t quite sure what the fourth ring was. It wasn’t often that Andy didn’t drive you. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you had only one class so he would drop you off and pick you up during his lunch break so you could get coffee together. On Wednesdays and Fridays, you had more than one class so he would drop you off and he would pick you up when he got off work.

One Wednesday morning, your first class had been canceled so you ended up driving yourself. Andy took Wednesdays and Fridays as his early days off because he didn’t want you waiting in the library too long after your final class let out, so those had become the simple nights when he would come over to your apartment even though he really didn’t like it there—you figured he was struggling with the urge to buy you a much bigger apartment, one that would probably coincidentally be closer to his house as well.

You had made the plan to cook dinner that night so before heading home, you drove to the grocery store… Fortunately, no one was hurt. Unfortunately, at your place just in front of the stoplight, a car in the turn lane drove right into your car. Honestly, it wasn’t a big deal considering your life of absolute privilege and you just wanted to get the whole thing over with.

Andy wasn’t quite as level-headed. The other driver was a middle-aged man so Andy felt no reluctance in throwing a fit. You had been torn between being humiliated that he was fussing so much over you, flattered that he cared, angry that he was treating you like you were a fragile vase, or maybe just a little turned on because he was so angry.

That night, instead of your place, he took you to his house and spoiled the hell out of you. He undressed you and kissed you everywhere, he bundled you up in one of his sweaters and a throw blanket, sat you down on the bed, and made you hot chocolate. You were not allowed to lift a single finger. That was the first night you spent at his house, and since Jacob wasn’t there, Andy didn’t hesitate to fuck you for hours and make you scream as loudly as he wanted you to.

The next morning, when you woke up, the black velvet box was set on the pillow between you and him. He was propped up on the headboard with his laptop and the clock on his bedside table was saying that it was well past noon. Clearly, he decided to stay home from work and if there wasn’t jewelry in front of you, you would have given him a lecture.

It was a princess cut diamond—which he would later explain with ‘you are my princess’—with a double halo and a diamond-encrusted band. It was smaller than all the rest but somehow just went perfectly.

You weren’t bragging, at least not in a petty way. It was just that any time you noticed someone staring at your hand, you couldn’t help but try to draw more attention to it, or the other jewelry Andy showered you in.

You supposed that maybe that meant something, maybe during your little back and forth a few hours prior when he had accused you of being spoiled, he was onto something. Regardless, the only person who could be blamed for that was him.

You almost got lost in the diamonds on your hand when Andy reached out to you, pulling some hair over your shoulder. You looked up at him, he was smiling softly. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“Are you ready to go?”

He really didn’t like these parties; he was always the one that wanted to leave and would slyly place the blame on you. You were tired, you weren’t feeling well, you had a tough week and you just wanted to go home. You never minded because it wasn’t as if you got anything out of these parties either, and if that was the easiest way to pull him out of there, so be it. It was Sunday anyway, he had to work tomorrow and you had to go over your weekly schedule with him before the night was over.

“Sure.”

It started as a quiet drive, just like it always did, but then he placed his hand on your thigh. You glanced at him, arching an eyebrow. He simply smirked and kept his gaze on the road. You opened your legs wide, guiding two of his fingers inside you. “Can you feel your cum in me?”

“Not enough.”

“You’re the one that made me stand for almost an hour.”

“I’ll fill you up again before you go to class tomorrow.”

You snorted. “Lucky me.”

He shot you a look. “Oh, you don’t like it?”

“Never said that.”

“Well, if you don’t, I don’t need to—”

“I was kidding,” you whined.

He gave you a look, pretending he was unconvinced. “You’ve had an attitude all night.”

“You spanked me,” you reminded. The memory, the sore feeling on your ass whenever you sat down, had kept you wet all night. “Hard.”

“You talked back.”

You had because you wanted him to spank you. The first time he had, it was quite the discovery. It was after a drink, after you were feeling a little daring. He told you no, and you really hated when he did that. You couldn’t even remember what you had said, but it was bad, it was enough to get your skirt torn down, you bent over his knee, and well, the rest was a blissful blur.

This time it was because he was in a mood. You were getting dressed and he was watching you and that always meant something. You weren’t sure what exactly, but there were a few things you picked up on with Andy. When he wanted to be in control, he didn’t necessarily just want you to submit completely. When he gave you a look, you knew that he wanted you to fight just a bit. So, he told you to wear a specific dress and you refused initially. Cue the spanking. After your whole body felt hot and flushed and your legs were shaking and your cunt was dripping, you obliged, and he was so damn smug about it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, because my fingers are inside you and you want me to make you come.”

“Well…yes.”

He laughed and you couldn’t help but smile. You loved the sound of it. Andy so rarely laughed but you took it to mean that he felt comfortable enough around you. “If you can be patient, I’ll fuck you when we get home.”

Home. His home. Whatever. “And if I can’t?”

“Then you’re going to have to wait until the morning and I might not feel like letting you come. Deal?”

You nodded. “Deal.”

But he didn’t play fair. He drove slower than usual, fingers still buried inside you, and he moved them. A lot. He tried to cover it with stupid things, like driving over a pothole or making a sharp turn. If you moved your hips once, just barely, you lost. So, you sat there, completely still, gripping the seat like it was a lifeline.

Upstairs, you waited for him to make the rounds. Jacob wasn’t there, thankfully, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been there earlier. Andy went around every door and window and made sure they were locked.

In that time, you got undressed and waited for him. You had a couple of red marks across your ass that you could see in the mirror on the opposite end of the bedroom. He always liked seeing your skin marked up in some way if he was the reason.

When he entered the room, you were sitting on the edge of the bed. “Stand up.”

You quickly did so, turning your back to him so he could see your ass. His palms lightly felt along the marked skin there. “It doesn’t hurt.”

He rarely asked, but you found that he fucked you better when he knew for sure. You just started letting him know and it seemed he trusted you enough to voice any boundaries you had if he ever crossed them.

One hand slowly trailed up your spine and slid across to your shoulder. He pressed you down quickly and you caught yourself on the mattress with both hands. You could hardly stay still as you heard his belt and zipper.

He easily pushed into you, body flush against yours. He let you adjust around him, staying perfectly still as he leaned over you and kissed your back, neck, and shoulders. Andy didn’t move until you angled your hips and pressed back a little more, whimpering nonsense.

This was so unlike the two times earlier. In the closet, after he spanked you, he sat you on top of his lap and made you ride him. At the party, in the bathroom, he stood you in front of the mirror and gently fucked you until he had filled you with his cum. This was fast, rough, and maybe a little detached if you really thought about it.

Andy took your waist in both hands and held you in place as he pounded into you relentlessly. Slapping skin, your soaking wet pussy, the bed banging against the wall on his particularly hard thrusts, these had become noises you were more than used to, noises you had grown to crave. Being with Andy was never supposed to be like this, but you didn’t have a single complaint.

You buried your face in the blankets, hands clutching tight at the sheets around you as your muffled screams filled the room. You knew he was close when his hands began to wander. One carded through your hair and pressed you down more, the other moved under you to reach your clit.

“You were such a good girl in the car.”

Your response was unintelligible, but yes. You had been more than just good. You had waited for him even though he was being a tease, and now, you wanted what he owed you. Which he didn’t deny you, not for a second.

He made you come. Once. Twice. Maybe three times. But after that, it was all just nonsense, satisfying, endless nonsense. He was still holding you by the hair, but he’d turned your head so you could breathe, and he was still circling his fingers around your clit.

Your back arched, allowing him in deeper—one of the tells of your approaching orgasm. You felt your pussy tighten around his fingers and began begging him to let you come. Even in this hazy, fucked-out state, you wanted to please him, you wanted his praise and approval.

He gave you permission like he always did and fully intended to fuck you through it. He only paused because he felt you spilling down his thighs, felt the wet sheets against his skin, heard light drops on the hardwood floor. Fuck.

He pulled you against him immediately, your sweat-slicked back to his chest. One arm draped across your chest, the opposite hand wrapped around your neck. You were watching him, eyes clear with curiosity. “You just squirted, princess.”

You blinked and attempted to voice your confusion. Problem was, his hips were still moving. You had no time to recover and there was no chance your brain had at making sense of anything in that moment.

“It was fucking hot and you’re going to do it again.”

Needless to say, you skipped classes the next day.

Andy liked to celebrate the monthly anniversaries.

He was big on creating traditions, you assumed that was just that part of him that had been hardwired to crave a normal family. He hadn’t told you much about his life and you didn’t want to pry—his dad wasn’t around and his mom had been but she died when he was pretty young. He shared this only after he asked about your parents.

The most personal he had ever gotten with you was one night when he had intended to take advantage of your drunk and thoroughly fucked state, obviously convinced that you wouldn’t remember the question in the morning. Do you believe in love?

It was weird given the setting and that you and Andy simply didn’t talk like that. It was dangerous because this could never be more than it was. You were both only allowed feelings of lust, maybe even obsession, but nothing of the usual sense. And Andy was so strict and controlled, you were surprised he would cross any sort of line.

You tried to play it off, tried to tell him that you had more important things to worry about. He didn’t like that response. He pressed because he was just like that, his career was all about pressing and sometimes, he brought it home. You ended up telling him that you viewed marriage as a waste of time. Your parents divorced, all your aunts and uncles, even the younger friends who got married out of high school were on the fast track to messy court dates and vicious custody battles. You also pointed out his situation. If someone as perfect as him couldn’t stay married, no one could.

It was then that he told you the happiest moments of his life were carving pumpkins or decorating the Christmas tree with Jacob. He had loved Valentine’s Day with Laurie, he was the one that had always insisted on doing something. He even looked forward to the smaller holidays, Independence Day, Memorial Day, any day that got Jacob out of school and him an extra day off so they could have a cookout in the backyard.

It wasn’t his intent, but it had sort of created a barrier between you two. You wished he still had his family even if that meant never meeting him. He was that kind of man, a good man, and you could tell that it weighed on him every day that he no longer had his perfect family.

He’d never pictured his life like this, a failed marriage, a child separated between his parents. He never would have entertained the idea of needing someone like you. He didn’t say that last part, but you knew. Sometimes, it was just in the way he looked at you. You feared he would grow to resent you one day, but you always tried to push that thought far away.

Regardless, the distance was there and he realized it even if he didn’t say it. There was also the matter that school had just let out meaning you had zero excuses for saying no to him when he proposed the trip to New York that would coincide with the 7-month mark of your relationship.

You’d never been and you’d always wanted to see Moulin Rouge on Broadway. He’d decided to drive to New York because you had once made the mistake of telling him you hated airports. It was a short road trip, one you weren’t entirely unwelcoming of. Especially not when he kept his hand on your thigh most of the time. It was late when you made it to the hotel and surprisingly, he had no issues with you diving straight into bed.

The morning was quite different. The hotel window had a perfect view of the city and he felt inclined to fuck you against it as soon as you both woke up. Then, he wanted to take you shopping. For nearly two entire days, he spoiled the hell out of you. Anywhere you wanted to go, he would take you. Anything you glanced at, he wanted to buy it for you.

On the night of the show, he finally took you to Victoria’s Secret. You’d seen pictures of it before, but you had not anticipated how beautiful it would look in person. You went crazy, you took him to the fitting room and tortured him on every single floor with both clothing and lingerie. Several hours had been devoted to teasing him and he let you know that after the show, you would regret your decisions.

Before you managed to get him back to the hotel so you could get ready, he needed to spend another awful amount of money on you. There was a jewelry shop just down the street from Victoria’s Secret and he couldn’t let you leave the state—as he claimed when he saw you frown—without at least one diamond.

You wanted nothing, but you knew the chances of him allowing that were nonexistent. So, you told yourself to keep it small, but one thing that had become a harsh reality since you met Andy: you were a sad, pathetic victim to larger, shinier diamonds. You immediately fell in love with a short string of sizable heart-shaped diamonds, the one larger heart dangling in the center is what had caught your eye.

Regardless of this terrible habit you had developed—this feeling that you craved, the pure joy that you got from people knowing that Andy was buying you diamonds—you tried to protest when he caught you staring. You just wanted a bracelet, really. He rarely ever gave you bracelets.

Instead, he sent you off to get coffee. You knew exactly why that was. He often got rid of you when he was about to make decisions that he knew would make you feel bad. You wanted to refuse, but what was better? Blissful ignorance or sitting there just watching him toss out the money for that necklace?

Learning what Andy liked at Starbucks had been a process. He didn’t like his coffee sweet so that eliminated 90% of the menu. His home coffee was some brand you’d never even heard of, the shops he went to were all nearly older than him. He liked cappuccinos with extra espresso, but he preferred the straightforward coffee he would get anywhere else, so he claimed. However, you knew he liked pumpkin spice lattes. You planned to prove it the day they released them for the year.

When he came out, the bag in his hand was much larger than one that would be used for just a necklace. He smiled at the horrified look you shot him and claimed that he was given a great deal for the entire set.

While you were getting ready for the show, you realized that this was the most normal you had felt with Andy in a while. There had been tension that neither of you wanted to address, but this trip was making you realize just how stupid that tension was. One day, this was going to end. It was impractical to think an arrangement like this was going to have a long shelf-life.

Shouldn’t you just enjoy it? Being here with him was fun. You liked the city and all the noise and bustle. You also liked being with him away from home and the lives you two had created long before you met one another. This was just you two, isolated together. Normally, you couldn’t ask that of him. He had his job and he was a father and you understood that completely, but you liked this.

During the show, Andy whispered to you several times. He couldn’t wait to be fucking you. He couldn’t wait to taste you. He couldn’t wait to hear you scream and cry and beg. He placed your hand over his lap just so you could feel how hard he was.

Back at the hotel, and maybe it was because of all that he had said, you didn’t want to tease. Almost immediately, you stripped completely naked—fuck all of that expensive lingerie, apparently.

He finally gave you your diamonds. He started with the necklace and you couldn’t even be upset. It fit you so well, you loved seeing it against your skin, you loved seeing how he looked at you while you were wearing it. Then, he gave you the matching bracelet. You had said you wanted a bracelet, right? You couldn’t complain. The earrings, you told yourself, were fine because you didn’t have a pair of diamond earrings yet.

You felt weighed down by these diamonds but not in a bad way. You felt tied to him, owned like you were one of his prized possessions. It was temporary, you reasoned, so was there any real harm in that? He watched you climb off the bed he had ordered you on mere minutes ago, arching an eyebrow as you lowered to your knees before him.

Andy rarely had the patience to let you go down on him, despite loving the feeling. Mostly, his main source of pleasure came from the things he could make you feel. He also couldn’t understand what you got out of letting him fuck your mouth. You weren’t much of a fan before Andy, you could admit since you had a total of zero pleasant experiences, but you felt that this was your only way of spoiling him.

It was nonnegotiable tonight, you would throw a fit if needed. You looked up at him for a moment, almost asking for permission. But not quite, maybe more for compliance. His promise was made by unzipping his pants for you and then letting his hands fall to his sides.

You took him out of his pants and opened your mouth. Staring up at him again, you took as much of him as you could. He was fine until he felt you gag, then his jaw set and his hands became fists.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

Moaning around him, you slowly pulled back. One of his hands disappeared in your hair before you could get too far. He had to keep you there for a moment, attempting to calm himself down because he could tell how much you wanted this.

He brought his hand forward, touching your cheekbone. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He slipped his fingers under your jaw and thrust his hips forward gently. He didn’t go too deep and it was at a torturous pace that he pulled out. This man’s control was one of the sexiest things about him. It made him seem so powerful and stable and that was what you craved more than anything in this world.

“Touch yourself,” he directed.

Your hand dove down, two fingers instantly burying inside your pussy. You moaned loudly around him and he cursed again.

“You want me to fuck your face?”

You nodded as well as you could.

He nodded, taking another deep breath. His hold under your face tightened just a bit, thumb and fingers pressing into your jaw. He didn’t thrust, instead, he moved you with his hand. Each time he brought you down on him, he made sure to choke you a little because he knew you liked it.

By the time he was close, your jaw was sore, made worse by his tight hold, your ribs hurt from how hard you had been gagging, the back of your throat was testament that he had lost it a couple of times, and went a bit harder than he meant to. Your entire hand was wet, your thighs shaking and your hips still rolling.

He told you to come with him, told you he wasn’t going to until you did. You pressed the heel of your palm down on your clit and fucked your hand harder. Andy brought you down as far as your throat would allow and held you there, moaning as you attempted to swallow around him.

His hand slid down to your neck and he began to squeeze when he knew you were close, hips moving fast and sloppy. You placed one hand on his thigh to keep yourself balanced, turning your gaze up to him once more.

You felt him start to spill down your throat. He moved harder, hips jerking and cock slamming into the back of your throat each time. The cum that was in your mouth was now beginning to slip out from the sides of your lips.

He pulled out before he was done, one hand in your hair to angle your head back, his other hand stroking his cock as his cum leaked out along your jaw and neck. “God damn, you are fucking gorgeous.”

You stared at him as the tip of your tongue came out to the corner of your mouth where you felt some of his cum.

Immediately, he pulled you onto your feet and shoved you back onto the bed. He was on top of you instantly, using his fingers to collect his cum off your skin so he could feed it to you. As you laid there, licking his fingers, he brought his opposite hand down to your pussy.

“I love feeling your cunt after you’ve just finished.” He teased you several times, just dipping the tips of his fingers in before he pushed two inside you.

You whimpered, lips closed around his fingers. Once he pulled them out, your mouth was free to speak, which was rarely ever a good thing when you two were in bed. “Well, are you going to get inside me, or did you need a minute?”

He arched an eyebrow—it didn’t bother him when you joked about his age, but he pretended it was grounds for true punishment. “Maybe I need several minutes, I guess I just have to keep you coming until then, huh?”

You hummed in protest.

He brought his hand up to grab your jaw, wet fingers pressing tightly into your skin. His lips hovered over yours as he asked, “You’re such a fucking brat, you know that?”

You smiled. “Yes.”

He scoffed. “You’re shameless. I don’t know how you got this bad.”

But he did know, and he would do whatever he possibly could to ensure that you would just get worse. Andy’s success was measured by your bratty episodes. It showed how comfortable you had become with him but also just how much you wanted him.

For the record, you weren’t accusing Andy of being some evil mastermind who had planned this whole…ordeal. That would be insane because it would imply a lot of things that you knew were simply not true about him. He wasn’t a bad person, he was actually one of the best that you had ever met.

But…he was a lawyer. He had picked up some bad habits that came along with that. That meant, that though he didn’t plan this, he was enjoying it thoroughly. In short, you were accusing him of being an opportunist.

The first time you met Andy, he had brought Jacob to that hellhole of a restaurant you used to work at. So, technically Jacob knew you, but he was on his phone the entire time and they were low-maintenance customers, so he’d maybe seen you for a total of 5 minutes over their 2-hour stay. Andy did come back and bring Jacob several times, but it was always the same. He never paid you any mind, and why would he?

So, when you “met” him, half-naked and covered in bruises and bites—something that still made you glare at Andy if you thought about it too much—Jacob already knew you. He just didn’t know you. And after that one encounter, you couldn’t imagine what he thought of you.

This made you realize just how worried you were about how temporary you knew you were. Andy hadn’t said anything so you wondered if Jacob just didn’t tell Laurie. You wondered if she would even care if he had told her. Maybe Andy did this all the time, maybe she just couldn’t be bothered because they weren’t married anymore. You had no idea because Andy rarely spoke to you about Jacob and never spoke about Laurie.

Your grand solution was just trying to avoid Jacob at all costs. Mostly, you were successful, and Andy didn’t seem to mind, per se, but he did not encourage it. He loved his son and he didn’t want part of his life to be completely unknown to Jacob, but you kind of did.

It was one terrible morning when you were a bit hungover from the night before and Andy was making breakfast. He’d just set down a plate of pancakes in front of you, kissed you on top of the head because you were letting him baby you, when Jacob came in, so you didn’t even have an excuse to leave. It would be pathetically clear what you were doing. Were you seriously scared of a 17-year-old boy?

Yes. But you could pretend you weren’t, and you would pretend. There was no other choice. It wasn’t until you were all sitting down for the world’s most awkward breakfast that Andy’s phone rang. He often got calls in the morning and you never minded. Until then.

You shot him a threatening look that he clearly didn’t take seriously. He excused himself and with each step further away, your desire to suddenly die increased.

There was more painfully awkward silence and you wracked your brain for ways to fix it. You could ask him about school, his plans for the day. But that was the easy part. How were you going to word the question casually, unforced? You didn’t have to think on that much longer because he decided to speak first.

“Is my dad your, like, sugar daddy?”

And before you were subjected to having to respond, his friends showed up. Which was great because you couldn’t have formed a response if your life depended on it. But that shock had well worn off by the time Andy returned. He was throwing out apologies and explaining that he was being given an update on one of his cases. He seemed unaware of your silence until he realized Jacob was gone.

“Where’s Jake?”

“He left with his friends.”

“Oh.” He sat down at the table and you glared. “Come on, I didn’t know he was going to be here—”

“He just asked me if you’re my sugar daddy!”

“Well, I am.”

“You are not.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Then what am I? I pay your bills, I buy you things, in return, you spend most of your free time with me. What does that make me?”

You were mad but not about the idea that he was your sugar daddy. Of course, you’d played with that phrase a few times, but it seemed so unrepresentative of your relationship. At least, to you. He clearly saw it that way, and maybe you weren’t even mad about that.

You might not have been mad at all, maybe just scared. You knew that Andy was in love with his ex-wife still and he always would be. She was this terrifying person that you’d never met that essentially held the cards to your life. You figured that if she expressed any anger towards Andy’s relationship with you, that you would be gone. You would have to go back to your life before, like when the carriage was a pumpkin. And the scariest part of that was not that you had no money. It was that you two would just be done as if you never even happened at all.

“Your boyfriend?” he pressed.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever.”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” he warned.

“I’m going home.”

“No, you’re not.”

Once more, you rolled your eyes. You pushed away from the table and stormed out of the kitchen and to his bedroom.

He came in moments later after you had thrown his shirt on the bed. You were in nothing more than a pair of panties as you searched for where he’d tossed your clothes the night before. He shut the door and locked it, but you refused to respond to his tactics to make you talk.

“Get on the bed.”

You scoffed incredulously, turning over your shoulder to him with raised eyebrows. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

His hand wrapped around one of your arms and he spun you back to him. You set your hands on his chest to push him away, but he pulled you in so tight that you couldn’t move. He kissed you like it had been years since he last did so, in reality, it had been a little over an hour. It was demanding and fast, he left you no room to protest, but it wasn’t like that mattered because with each passing second, you were giving in.

His free hand slid down between your legs and you broke the kiss to moan. Your head fell back, your body pressed closer to him. It wasn’t a surrender exactly, just a promise that you would get over it and never bring it up again.

But then he said, “Call me daddy.”

You froze, turning your head back to him. “What?”

“Call me daddy,” he repeated. “You want to come? Tell daddy how to make you come.”

It was just a matter of time before it was brought up. Unbeknownst to him, it was on your mind. Unbeknownst to you, it was on his. He hadn’t been the kind for it, then he met you. There was something primal inside him that was triggered when you would whimper and whine, when you were choking on his cock and staring up at him with your beautiful eyes, when you were crying his name. And sometimes, it didn’t completely sound unlike daddy. When you were breathless and fucked good, and nearly mindless. Sometimes, it was close enough that it made him wonder what it would be like.

And you’d been curious too. Ever since he spanked you the first time. You saw Andy as this powerful, good man. He was perfect and didn’t even know it. But all of that was what everyone could see. There were these dark parts of him that made you wet just thinking about. You would never tell him, but once, just one time, he was busy and couldn’t see you one weekend. Meaning you had to take care of yourself. Your dreams were vivid and filthy, and you might have called him daddy in one…so, yeah.

“I’m not going to touch you if you can’t follow orders, princess.”

It took you a moment to find your voice, especially with the way he was looking down at you. “I…don’t know…” It felt weird, like you were admitting this terrible secret. You were aware he had asked you to, but it still felt wrong. Kind of.

“Well,” his fingers slid over you again, a teasing touch that was too light for any real relief, “do you want daddy’s fingers?”

You nodded.

“What about daddy’s cock?”

“Yes.”

“Or maybe daddy’s mouth?” He kissed your forehead first, then your cheek, and finally all over your neck. “Hmm?”

“Yeah, that’s what I want.”

“You know what I want,” he pointed out, pulling back to look at you. “Tell me what you want first.”

He was not letting you out of this and did you actually want him to? Andy was a complete daddy. He spoiled the hell out of, almost literally got off on taking care of you, and he was a kind, beautiful man who had no problems fucking you like he hated you.

“Will you eat my pussy, Daddy?”

Wordlessly, he sat you down on the bed and pushed you onto your back by your shoulders. His eyes on yours, he took you with his mouth over your panties and any doubts you had about this just faded away.

Your breath was shaking as he held you down, his hands gripping your arms tight. You draped your legs over his shoulders and pulled him closer. He pressed his tongue flat against you each time he licked up your aching cunt. “Oh, god,” you blurted out when you felt him at your clit.

He turned his head, nipping at your thigh. It was a prompt.

“Daddy,” you breathed, and he returned his mouth to you. “Daddy, please.”

He hummed. What are you asking for?

“Please, take them off,” you begged.

His fingers slipped under the band of your underwear and he tore them into pieces, without any skill whatsoever, as his tongue sought out bare skin. You’d heard several tears by the time his tongue was inside you.

You arched your back and grabbed a hold of his hair with both hands. He almost instantly took your hands and held them down to the bed again. “Daddy, don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please make me come.”

He pulled your clit between his lips and you knew that you weren’t going to last much longer. You knew this was your biggest loss so far. He was never going to let you forget that you’d come up here throwing a fit, trying to push him away, only to beg him to eat you out.

Your hips rolled against his face, he seemed surprised for a moment, but he moaned against you, so you kept doing it. “Can I come, Daddy? Please?”

He hummed again, a confirmation.

When you moved instead of waiting for him, you could feel his beard. That was the only reason you kept canting your hips up to meet the swipes of his tongue that were toeing the line of being too good.

He let his tongue drop down to tease your entrance, earning a frustrated whine from you. Your clit wasn’t neglected for long, you felt the tip of his nose hovering just right there. So, if you were to move, if you bucked your hips just right, you discovered quickly just how to get the right kind of pressure there.

Andy loved every second of it, he loved the smell of you and the taste of you, and he knew he was never going to be a better position to indulge in both. You were wild even though he was pinning you down, you were hardly ever this desperate, this upfront with your desire. It was the sexiest thing he ever witnessed.

You finished on his tongue and he let no drop of you go to waste. He was selfish in the way he ran his mouth along the oversensitive parts of you. Before reality had even made its way back to you, he’d placed you on your knees before him. Your body was moving without your brain, like pure instinct. Your mouth opened for him before you even knew you were on the floor and you took him in as deep as you could.

He took a handful of your hair and held you in place, hips slowly, gently moving back and forth. You were gagging around him but he was letting you get used to it, telling you that you were such a good girl, reminding you how well you knew how to suck his cock, how you’d always been so good at it.

He didn’t want to come in your mouth, he just wanted to get close. He threw you down on the bed just as soon as he’d gotten you back on your feet and then he was on top of you. His hand wrapped around your neck as he slotted his hips between your thighs.

His eyes locked on yours, he slowly sunk into you. It was damn near painful the kind of restraint he was using, how he was denying you that fast kind of fucking he knew you loved. He pulled back, using his knees for balance, and kept his hold on your throat.

His thrusts were too gentle, several agonizing times, until you were squirming and whimpering. He didn’t seem concerned with what you wanted then, he merely kept his eyes moving over your body.

“Andy,” you complained.

He tsked. “Baby girl.”

“Daddy,” you corrected instantly. “Daddy, please. I need you to fuck me.”

Instead, he leaned back down and kissed you. He started at your mouth and then moved to your jaw. His hips barely moved, just enough to keep you on this edge of murderous rage. Seriously? After what you just went through? He wasn’t going to fuck you to make it up to you?

He sat back again and tightened his hand when you opened your mouth. It was the nicest way he was ever going to tell you to shut up, but he was telling you to. You were too scared to show any signs of disobedience at this point.

He pulled out and you whined unintelligibly. You received nothing more than a brief ‘hush’ before he was laying down next to you. He was on his side, propping one of your legs over his hip as he slid back into you. He lifted you up so you could lay your head on his bicep and used that arm to grab your opposite thigh, pulling it out to the side so you were completely open for him.

“Daddy,” you mewled. You couldn’t keep doing this, you needed to come. You needed him to make you come. He dragged his cock out and then shoved back in, earning a strangled yelp from you. You brought both hands up to hold the forearm that was still pressed between your breasts.

It was then that he started this horrible pattern of fucking you hard, hard, until you were just about to come. You would be shaking, begging like you never had before, promising you would never talk back to him again, and then he would just stop.

He never denied your orgasm. If anything, he just threatened to, didn’t follow through, then made weak threats that he would next time. It was a nice routine and you weren’t sure why he wanted to ruin it.

He told you to leave your thigh where it was and then brought that hand up. He started at your mouth, he ordered you to close your lips around his fingers. He was choking you still and now gagging you and you were abruptly lightheaded. He’d never given you a safe word, you were sure he never intended to go too far. The idea that he might, though… Ugh.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth and they were soaking wet because he didn’t give you the chance to swallow. He dragged them down your body, stopping to pinch one of your nipples painfully until you gasped, and then down to your pussy.

Tears filled your eyes immediately as he pressed his fingers down on your clit. He kissed the side of your face several times before stating, “I can’t keep giving you what you want if you’re going to be such a brat, baby.”

“I’m not being a brat,” you protested.

“You’re not?”

“No.”

“Okay,” he scoffed. His fingers began to rub circles into you.

You shot him a desperate look. “Daddy, please I need you to make me come.”

He arched an eyebrow, hips still but hand moving. “Oh, you need me to?”

“No one else makes me come like you do.” It was clear that you were just saying anything you could think to make him give in. True? Yes. But were the words sincere? Not at all, and you didn’t want him to know that. Yes, you liked spending time with Andy, you even loved fucking him, but this was not a relationship. It was an arrangement first and you had to protect yourself.

He rolled his eyes at you. “Transparent.”

You let your head fall back into the pillow with an exaggerated sigh. “Please?”

“No.”

You looked at him instantly, eyebrows pulling together. “What?”

“No,” he repeated slowly.

He’d never just told you no. Maybe in a roundabout way, he’d talked his way through the fact of no, but never once had he just out and said it. You had no idea how to reply. After all, he was in charge here. If he said no, did you have to accept it?

He brought his fingers down to where your bodies were connected and pulled out completely. He dipped his fingers into you at the same time he was easing his cock back in.

You bit down on your lip, willing yourself to relax. He was always a tight fit, even without the addition of two of his thick fingers, even on those weeks when he fucked you every day, numerous times a day.

“You’re okay,” he promised. “You can take it.”

You tried spreading your legs even more, hoping that would make him easier to take.

“Good girl.” He pulled his cock and fingers out briefly before working them both back in simultaneously. “How’s it feel, baby?”

“It hurts a little.”

“But you can take it, can’t you?” He kissed along your cheekbone. “You want it, right? Because you’re my good girl.”

You were nodding before you even truly thought about it. You wanted anything he wanted to give you, in reality. You supposed this was not the exception to that rule.

He continued pulling out and teasing back in, going just a little deeper each time.

Your cunt was aching by the time you propped yourself up on your elbows to see. The sight of him inside you was sinful and delicious.

He felt you flutter around him and kissed the side of your face again. “You like when I stretch you out, baby?”

You nodded. That was exactly how you felt. Stretched. It still hurt but not in any kind of way that you didn’t like. Your cheeks were flushed since he’d been denying you a finish, otherwise, you would be blushing terribly. It was a toe-in-the-water of humiliation, you felt a little objectified, or reduced to a single body part. Again, not something you were opposed to because your mind was fucked up enough that your body would respond ecstatically to anything Andy wanted to do to it.

“Do you want another one?”

You weren’t sure, but that didn’t stop you from claiming you did. You watched the tip of his third finger collect the slick on the base of his cock and slide into you. He began pulling out and gently pushing both fingers and cock back in until he was buried several inches and two knuckles into your pussy.

“You are soaked, baby.”

Part of you hated that. How bratty could you be from here on out if you were this wet for him? If your cunt was literally begging him for more of his fingers? That was the pride part of you. The sick part of you stopped to think about how he had 7 more fingers to fuck you with, if he wanted. “Can I have another?”

He smirked. “I think 3 is enough tonight, princess. I don’t want to hurt you too much.”

“I want all your fingers inside me, daddy.”

He scoffed. “Not sure that’s possible, you’re still so tight. But I do have a little more I can give you.” As he pressed more of his fingers in, beyond that second knuckle which made you gasp and squirm because it burned, he also gave you more of his cock.

You were shaking, hand settling on his forearm once more. “Oh, daddy…I feel so full.”

“And your desperate cunt still wants more?”

“Anything from you, daddy. Can I please come?”

He didn’t answer, his hips merely began moving. He roughly fucked into you as he pulled just so with his fingers to keep you painfully stretched.

You were getting close again. That stinging sensation was starting to fade away with the building pleasure. When he angled his hand and let his thumb massage your clit, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. “Daddy, please.”

“You can’t come.”

You whined. “Daddy!”

“I said no.”

You pressed your hand to his stomach to still his hips, but he paid you no mind. “Daddy, I’m going to come.”

“You better not,” he warned, but didn’t do anything to help you want that. If anything, his hips snapped a bit harder.

“Please stop, daddy,” you begged, voice pathetically small and whiny. You didn’t care how you sounded or looked, you just didn’t want to come without him letting you. You didn’t want to disappoint him. “Daddy, I’m close. Please stop.”

He scoffed, free hand coming up to your face. “You’re such a good girl, you know that?”

You frantically shook your head. You weren’t so good that you wouldn’t come, so really, you needed him to stop.

“You don’t want to come without my permission?”

“No, daddy.”

He pressed his thumb down harder and rubbed faster, earning an unintelligible, sad sound from you. “It’s okay, baby girl, you can come. Daddy wants to feel you coming around his cock.”

You lifted your hand back up to his arm, trying to turn into his body as much as you could. He understood immediately and moved his hold from your neck to drape his arm across you, resting his hand on your back. You set your head in the bend of his neck as you started to come.

He groaned when he felt you get tighter. “That’s it, baby. That’s what I wanna feel.”

Tears were rolling down your cheeks by the time you were coming. Your body had never felt relief so strong. Andy shushed you through it all and told you that you were so good and didn’t stop until he had you filled with his cum.

He let you settle before urging you onto your back. “You okay, baby?”

“Yes, daddy.” You were more than just okay. You were sated and aching, you were exhausted and blissful. It had been a while since he’d spent so much time on you and you felt good, doted on, paid attention to.

He carefully pulled his fingers from your cunt, eyeing your face as he did, but then quickly took your jaw in one hand and shoved the fingers into your mouth. You instantly began sucking on them. “A few things. First, you do not roll your eyes at me. Second, you do not leave the table unless I tell you that you can. Third, do not ever walk away from me. Fourth, when I tell you to get your ass on the bed, you better get your ass on the bed. Are we clear?”

You nodded, speaking around his fingers.

“Glad to hear it.” He slowly extracted his fingers, massaging your jaw with the opposite hand. “When you can walk again, I’ll take you shopping—”

You hurriedly jumped out of bed, rushing for the shower. “I’ll be ready in an hour!”

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@onetwo3000 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic

#andy barber x reader #but we all KNOW he's the best sd in existence right????#let's rate evans characters by how good they'd be as sd's! talk to me in my inbox about it let's go!#love you thank you for reading okay bye #my writing

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daydream-believin · 4 years

Text

The Never-Ending Roadtrip (St. Louis)

summary: (pt 1) Reader joins Douxie in the quest for Nari’s safety. He’ll need company won’t he? - part 4) Doux and Reader get out of Missouri finally but not before one last stop (part 5)

warnings: swearing

word count: 6205

a/n: im getting a smidge impatient on my planned mutual pining slow burn as you can see. mmm i want a piece of st louis butter cake. @blixeon gets credit for putting the douxie trying to keep y/n away from moppet!douxie idea in my head. its not a big plot point here but idk felt i should still mention it

Douxie stared up at the ceiling with dry, unblinking eyes. There were many interesting cracks in the ceiling, barely illuminated by the light streaming in from the bathroom door. He was wide awake, despite not being able to convince himself to move. He was never a morning person, but once he remembered where he was, it was like someone had poured a bucket of ice water on him. Y/n was no longer clinging to him when he woke up, albeit, she was not even in the bed at all when he woke up. That had gave him a fright before he realized he could hear the shower running. Somehow, this was worse than if she’d still been there when he woke up. This meant she woke, untangled herself from him, and was probably going to pretend like it didn’t happen, since she couldn’t possibly know he stayed awake long enough to know about it. Which, while waking up in her arms would have been a little awkward, at least he would have gotten a conversation out of it. An acknowledgement. Something.

Speaking of the shower, somehow that was doing a number on him too. It was so strange. They’ve lived together for years now; they’ve shared a bathroom for years now. He’s heard her shower so many fucking times. No sweat. These feelings were making him silly. Perhaps it was this fucking room. The domesticity of it all, which was a weird thing to say when you literally lived with said person. Yet, he couldn’t stop imagining that he was waking up in His Home, listening to His Wife get ready for work in the en suite of Their Bedroom. She didn’t want to wake him, how sweet. She was always worried about him getting more sleep. He’d go help her with her hair, braid it for her. His hands would run through her soft hair as he styled it. She’d kiss him on the nose before she left to go make him a cup of coffee while he got ready. She knew just how he liked it. They’d brush their teeth together, every morning, just like they did last night.

Bleeding balroths, last night. What was he going to do about last night. His dumb heart wouldn’t just be able to leave well enough alone, apparently. Does he,,, say something? Perhaps he should wait to see if she says something. That would be,, the safer route. He knew one thing for sure though. He wasn’t going to act like he didn’t love every second of it. He’d made up his mind. His life has been way too long and lonely for him to keep this ‘it’s not like I like you’ act up. And for Merlin’s sake, he had died not even three days ago. He had almost been gone, and would have never known the love of his beloved. And family wasn’t just who you have, it was also who you’re with. And he was with Y/n. She was already his family, so why not be his family? Like he dreamed of? Yes, he was going to come clean. If she said something. Yes.

Suddenly, he was aware of a noise. Someone had just knocked on the front door of the room. Or less of a knocking and more of a rapping. Archie’s ear’s flicked, but he didn’t stir. Douxie held his breath. The rapping stopped, but now whoever it was trying to open the door. Thank Merlin he warded that thing up. It couldn’t open from the outside, he made sure of it. The door handle stopped moving. Doux still made no noise. Hopefully whoever or whatever that was had decided to move on to easier prey.

Y/n combed her fingers through her wet hair. It was the best she could do at the moment. She’d try and braid it back while it was still wet, so it wouldn’t get even worse. Y/n pulled on the same clothes she’d been wearing for a week. Well, actually she had been wearing a medieval dress for most of it, but still. She looked in the mirror. Not bad for someone on the run. But they did need to make a shopping trip. As much as Y/n did not want to waste an entire other day to a store (thanks Kmart), and didn’t want to spend more of their small savings they were living off of, they did need some things. Backpacks to keep their few belongings close, one more set of clothes each so they could have something to be wearing while they wash the other set, maybe some pajama pants would be nice, although nonessential, a couple of toothbrushes that weren’t the motel provided ones, plus a tube of toothpaste, soap, a hairbrush, phone chargers, some emergency food that wouldn’t spoil, some reusable water bottles, a fucking first aid kit even, lots of stuff. It’s not like they were able to pack for this trip. Hell, they should probably get Nari an outfit that would cover up her, eh, forest spirit-ness. Her running around in leaves isn’t exactly helping their conspicuousness. Despite Y/n not wanting to add to that list, she sure was getting cold in her short-sleeved top. She needed a jacket. She’d been borrowing Douxie’s a bit for the last few days, but if she just stole it then he would be cold. She needed one of her own, she supposed.

Y/n walked out of the bathroom. Archie and Nari were still snoozing, but Doux looked like he was awake. He sat up as soon as he realized Y/n had come out. He looked, troubled. And he had every right to be, she thought. He had just suffered the loss of his mentor and died himself. He had been blankly staring at the ceiling when she’d first came into the room. He probably had so much on his mind. Thankfully he had Archie and herself. They’d be there for him, she’d make sure of it. It’d be best to give him some more time to think, though. She didn’t want to push too hard. He’d tell her if he was struggling, she was sure of it. He’d been so open lately. And they’d had plenty of talks in the past about not expressing frustrations in their lives. He hadn’t been too open with her when they first started living together and it had made being roommates stressful at first. It wasn’t a problem anymore though. They’d worked through it, and it had even brought them closer.

She told him it was his turn for the bathroom now. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then quietly nodded as he got out of bed and headed for the shower. Strangely, this inn stay has been the most normal things had been all week. It was almost like they were home. She was back in her routine of waking, getting ready, telling Douxie it was his turn to get ready. He was so sweet, he always let her have the bathroom first. So chivalrous, although, she had a sneaking suspicion it was more of his excuse to sleep in a little longer.

It was nice, living with Douxie. It was the first time she’d been on her own. Or, well, not on her own per se, since Douxie was there, but at least away from her aunt. Her aunt had practically raised her, but that didn’t mean she was too grateful for it. She felt guilty about that last part, but not too guilty. Her aunt was pretty cold. It was clear that Y/n was just a charity case to her, a beggar who wouldn’t be looked at twice if not for blood relation. She hadn’t even bothered telling Y/n about their family’s magic until Y/n had stumbled face first into it herself. And even then, she only taught Y/n a minimal number of spells, just enough to control it, so she could successfully hide it. Didn’t need some troublesome untrained wizard ruining the family name and scaring the party guests. Y/n didn’t even know that wizards were pretty much immortal at a certain point until she noticed it herself. The people she had grown up with were all out there getting their pretty adult faces, and she was stuck with a baby face. Her aunt only told her once she questioned it. She was well past being nineteen now, but was going to be stuck like this forever apparently. What a great way to live.

Of course, she was absolutely thrilled when she found out her new roommate was in the same boat as her in that department. It was serendipity. The whole thing with Douxie was perfect, really. She had heard through her friend who worked at Hextech that someone had put up a roommate ad flyer on the company’s bulletin board and she called right away. She hadn’t been having any luck apartment hunting. She couldn’t afford rent on her own with her bookstore job, and Arcadia Oaks wasn’t exactly a college town teeming with people looking for roommates. A wizard roommate would be perfect, and the price was right. So imagine her surprise when said new roommate also turned out to be her boss. Y/n hadn’t even known he was looking for a roommate, let alone that he was a fellow wizard. His old roommate, Jack, had gotten married and moved out last month, he told her. Y/n was surprised at how very easy it was getting into this agreement too, Doux already knew her so he didn’t even interview her. And she didn’t have to worry about new person awkwardness. It really was serendipity. Of course, it hadn’t been all rosy, as mentioned before, but they were really groovin’ together now.

Y/n stretched out on the bed. She could hear the water running through the wall. It had been so awesome living right above her job. She got to sleep in, and she’d get ready, eat some breakfast, and be able to instantly step into the bookstore. She’d never be late ever again. Or she never was late again. That was a depressing thought. But hey, bright side, now they could have all the fun of starting up a new bookstore. Perhaps she could convince Douxie to add on a tea shop this time too. One that had cute little round tables with pretty gingham table cloths and flower vases, filled with flowers that they grew themselves in the pots on their balcony. They’d make sure the new bookstore had a nice window that was meant for a display but they’d leave as a place for Archie to sleep in and make snarky comments as he watched the people go by. Douxie could paint the letters on the signs and window, he was great at that. It’d be a task, but truly, they had to remake their bookstore. Even if not in Arcadia. A new bookstore they could fill up with love, that’d be an idea Y/n could hold on to.

Stars, she loved their bookstore. She loved the smell. She loved the peaceful homey vibe. She loved the man who owned it. Whoops, forget about that last part. She even loved the quirky characters it drew in. One time, she encountered this really crazy lady, and she wasn’t even sure if this lady was real or if she dreamt her, since she was the only witness. But Mordrax’s miracles, was this lady something. It started normally enough, Y/n picking up the store’s landline.

“GDT Arcane Bookstore! Please state your grievances.” She knew in the back of her mind that she was the only person who found her dumb jokes funny, but she still made them to brighten up her own day. Also to piss off Hisirdoux with her unprofessionalism. He made the same passive-aggressive ‘I’m disappointed in you’ face every time. It was fun.

“Yes, Hello. I would like to know if you carry any children’s books.”

“Yes ma’am, we sure do. A whole section.”

“Great. And are you child friendly?”

“Are we-, child friendly? I-, Yes I suppose we are ma’am.”

“Perfect. And you’re open until eight?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Thank you, young lady.”

The whole phone call was odd. Y/n wasn’t too jazzed about being called ‘young lady’ either. She had mocked the lady as soon as the phone call ended, but she shrugged it off, and had forgotten that the whole thing had even happened as she went about her day. Then, at about seven, this lady rolls up. She was dressed to the nines but like, in an old rich person way. Long fur coat, black dress underneath with pearls around her neck. On one arm, she had a fancy purse covered in the logo of a fashion brand Y/n wasn’t going to admit she recognized. In the other, she carried a large porcelain doll, the size of a five-year-old, which was dressed in a frilly pink dress that remined her of the dresses her aunt used to make her wear. When Y/n greeted her, she recognized the voice as the strange caller from earlier. Y/n got the feeling that some sort of shit was about to go down, and couldn’t wait. If only Archie was here.

Fur coat lady sat her doll down on the old loveseat in the sitting area and asked Y/n to keep an eye on the doll while she went to go pick out some books. Emily could be so mischievous sometimes, she told Y/n. She assured fur coat lady that she’d watch Emily like a hawk. The doll’s painted eyes stared into Y/n’s soul. Fur coat lady came back far longer than Y/n was comfortable with. She asked Y/n if Emily had been a good-mannered girl. Y/n just nodded, not sure if she should be encouraging this, on second thought. Fur coat lady then preceded to read the doll nine children’s books in a row, pausing in between only to ask the doll if she had liked it. Y/n was too baffled to even tell this lady to scram, we aren’t a library, you know. It crept closer to eight, and Y/n was actually dreading what was going to happen when she’d have to kick this lady out, but thank the stars, fur coat lady starts telling her doll about how it was close to its bedtime so they couldn’t read any more stories, aww darn, and they had to go now. She thanked Y/n as she walked out of the door. Y/n flipped that closed sign behind her and quickly retreated upstairs for the night. She’d go make a cup of tea to relax her nerves after that encounter. Y/n had plenty of other wild stories of people who’ve stopped by their bookstore. It was great for conversation at parties.

Y/n loved parties. With Douxie came all his friends, and she didn’t mind that one bit. They were always over whenever Doux had time off. It was so nice; it kept their place lively. Y/n cooked and baked a lot, it was one of those skills her aunt insist she have, and having so many mouths to enjoy her food felt good. And whether it was band practice or game night, she was happy to play hostess. Douxie’s friends were fun to talk to. She suddenly had the freedom to invite her own friends over too. Having so many people around all the time had helped her loneliness big time when she first moved in. Her aunt’s house may have been big, but it was empty. Her aunt threw a fancy party a month, but none of the people there were people worth talking to. It was so cold. Their apartment was warm.

Honestly, as insane as it was to think about, Y/n couldn’t see herself ever leaving Douxie to live on her own anymore. At first, this arrangement was supposed to be a temporary thing until she could find a better job and go off on her own. But somehow along the way, ‘the apartment we share’ became Their Apartment, and the bookstore that she happened to operate with him became Their Bookstore. It was nuts, and also the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to Y/n. It was the home she’d never had. Douxie and Archie were her family. Way more so than her aunt ever was. It was beautiful, magical, marvelous. She no longer worked, she just lived. Hell, she couldn’t even remember the last time Doux had formally assigned her a shift. She was just kind of always there. Which she was glad to do. She loved it. And when it was time to stop working, she’d just head upstairs and get to spend even more time with her favourite person. That is, if he wasn’t on one of his bistro shifts. She felt so safe and cared for. She no longer felt alone.

If Douxie wanted to make that, how you say, a little more official, Y/n wouldn’t be opposed to that. She had a hunch that he had some sort of feelings for her, if his recent actions were anything to go by. Although, just like she didn’t want to push him about the angst feelings, she didn’t want to push him in these feelings either. He’d tell her when he was good and ready. Slow and steady wins the race after all. Besides, if she was wrong and he didn’t have feelings for her, she’d definitely be tossing this good thing they had going out the window directly into the dumpster. She had to admit though, waking up this morning cuddled into him was the loveliest way she’d ever woken up in her life. She could get used to that.

She wondered if Douxie would be a wedding person or an elopement person. Not that she expected him to marry her. But it would be nice. She rolled over and found her phone on the nightstand. There wasn’t any harm in looking at some wedding dresses, right? Just in case. Y/n listened to Nari yawn and shuffle over to the bed. She opened an arm for the forest child who snuggled in, curious at what Y/n was looking at. Y/n tilted the phone for her to see. Nari really liked the poufy dresses. She’d point excitedly to the one’s she thought were pretty while Y/n scrolled. While Y/n wasn’t a fan of big frilly stuff herself, she had to admit, those poufy dresses would make her feel like Cinderella, which was never something she’d have thought appealing, but somehow it was. There were some really gorgeous not poufy ones also, and even a cool black one. Some that Douxie might like too. Y/n leaned more towards those, but wasn’t gonna tell Nari that. The veggie lady sure was having as much fun as her right now, surprisingly. Hopefully she wouldn’t blab any of this to Hisirdoux though.

Speak of the devil, he came out of the bathroom and sat on the end of the bed. Y/n quickly closed the app she was scrolling through. She sat up, taking Nari with her. Archie yawned and stretched, after sensing movement in the room. He moved from the chair into Douxie’s lap. After giving Arch a good scratch behind the ears, Douxie turned to Y/n.

“So, what’s today’s itinerary?”

“I-, wait, why do I have to be the one who decides what we do?”

“Because you’re the one who likes to have a plan when it comes to these things.”

“Fair enough.” Y/n pulled up google maps. If she had known she would have to do this she would have done it while he got dressed instead of fantasizing about their wedding. “Okay, so as much as I hate to say this, but we gotta go back to the store today.”

Douxie groaned as he laid back. His still wet hair was gonna dry funky like this, but he didn’t care. “Fine. We’ll do that in Illinois. We gotta get out of this town before anything else.”

“I agree,” she paused, seeing something that caught her eye. It would be frivolous, but she couldn’t help herself from asking “Ooh! Can we stop in St. Louis?”

“St. Louis?”

“Yeah! It’ll be fun, Douxie. We can go sit in those cafés that people go to in the black and white movies, we can go take a cheesy tourist picture of us by the arch thing, and I’m really craving some St. Louis butter cake now.”

Doux laughed. “Okay, but only for a few hours, Love.” The least he could do was let her have a little down time to relax and have fun after this hell week. Highly populated cities were good for throwing off their scent too.

“Thank you,” she went back to her map, snickering, “And we’ll stop in Effingham to shop.” She snorted.

“Effingham?” Douxie said it correctly, in his proper accent, which was not as amusing.

“Effing. Ham. Baby.” He rolled his eyes.

They booked it out of that motel and out of that town. Douxie all but tossed the room key into the creepy innkeeper’s hands as they rushed out. Back on the boat, safe at last. He ran a mental headcount once they boarded. Y/n always held Nari’s hand when they went places, so they wouldn’t have to worry about her wandering off, but it still made Douxie feel better to go over his tiny mental list and make sure they were both still safe and with him. Archie, he didn’t have to worry about as much. Even if the cat-dragon wandered he’d always come back. He could track Douxie by scent for a hundred miles too. Y/n had a habit of getting lost, though. He had to keep an eye on her. He didn’t need her and Nari off in fairyland where the Order could find and abduct them at any given time.

Douxie’s hair had still been damp when they set off, but the wind took care of that for him. Sure, wind-tousled bangs were in, but not bangs tousled by real wind. He was sure he was rocking it though. He could pass it off as something he did on purpose. People already thought his relatively tame style was outlandish, they’d just think the messy hair was part of the look. His only qualm was Y/n. He didn’t want to embarrass himself to her any further. His Camelot self already inflicted so much damage in that department this week. That moppet with a man bun had messed up spells, quoted sappy poetry to her, bragged about being Merlin’s apprentice, and even tried serenading her with his lute in attempts to impress her. It was mortifying. He had spent the first part of their Camelot adventure distracted by having to keep Y/n away from his younger self. It was not good for the whole ‘save time’ mission. Thankfully, he had Claire there with him, who had agreed to help him once she had buggered the information out of him. Thank Merlin for nosy teen girls. Claire was a godsend.

He had to admit, he was a smidge disappointed that she didn’t bring up the cuddling. Y/n hadn’t even made a joking reference to it in passing. He would have to bring it up then. But when, how? It wasn’t exactly something that would come up in natural conversation.

He watched her, hanging over the ship’s railing again. They passed a field with some cows and she made sure to point at them and say cows. He smiled at that; Y/n always managed to make him smile. He could recall how bad he had felt when Jack left and he thought he was going to have to fire her, his only employee, to keep up with rent. He had asked Zoe if he could put up a flyer in Hextech in a desperate attempt to find someone before that had to happen. And low and behold, among the three answers he got to the ad was miss L/n herself. It was an easy decision really, and it took away the uncertainty since he knew she was someone that he already liked. As a bonus, Y/n didn’t have a familiar of her own that might fight with Archie, because let’s be real, as much as Douxie loved Archie, the dragon-cat wasn’t afraid of stepping on toes. Although, it did feel kind of strange to give Y/n her paycheck and then for her to hand a little more than half of it back to him on rent day. But it just worked.

He remembered the first time he walked by the fridge to see that not only had Y/n added some fridge magnets to the kitchen, but she had taken the time to write a message to him. It, um, was sort of a rude note, meant to tease, an inside joke. Which he thought was funny, he just wished Zoe hadn’t seen it. It was hard to explain, and Zoe never let him hear the end of it. Archie got a kick out of it too. Y/n would switch the message almost daily, and it never failed to make him smile. He still had to deal with his friends seeing them and teasing him about it, but he’d never change her magnet jokes for anything. They would stay there until she replaced them with equally embarrassing messages meant just for him. It felt sweet to know someone was thinking about him enough to come up words meant to make him laugh on a daily basis.

They had just passed by a town called Eureka, which meant they were coming up on St. Louis. Good. Douxie couldn’t wait for lunch. He had the appetite of a winning fat bear these past few days. Probably the stress. That butter cake Y/n had mentioned was sounding so tasty. He could almost smell it. What Douxie hadn’t considered when he agreed to this was that the magic flying ship couldn’t go through metropolitan areas. Well, it could, but it’d be seen. So despite his growling stomach, he wound up taking the ship around the entire concrete jungle of Missouri, staying in the forested areas. He figured he could park the boat over in Illinois, just outside of St. Louis. This added a whole other hour to the trip than he was expecting, but now at least he knew to take large cities into consideration when choosing routes.

After hiding the boat in a heavily wooded area, the four took the bus into downtown. So when Y/n said she wanted to go to an old café from a movie, she had meant a very specific old café from a specific movie. She had told him it wasn’t a big deal and there were plenty of other cafes, but Douxie was gonna get her there by golly. And he did. The happiness written on her face was worth the extra bus miles. And wow, this café had some delicious food. They had salmon, which Archie enjoyed a little more than usual. Said something about paying himself back. As if he paid for anything, being a cat. That St. Louis butter cake did not disappoint. Archie was pretty fond of the cake too. It was too sweet for Nari, though. Y/n savored every bite. Doux watched her, while he ate his own, and it was so cute how smiley this was making her. He’d learn the recipe for this cake so he could make it for her once they got… home.

Douxie was still trying to shake off that depressing thought when Y/n finished up and was already trying to get the move on. Not without getting a picture first, of course. Not satisfied with just the scenery of the café itself, she begged Douxie to pose for her in various spots around it. He obliged, despite his scruffy appearance. She didn’t think he was that scruffy, and what was better than pictures of her favourite person in a cool place she’d always wanted to go. She also snapped one of Archie to post to her cat insta she secretly kept of him. Douxie knew about it, and contributed pictures to it himself, but neither of them were about to tell Archie he was internet famous as archie_the_emo_kitty. These pictures were going to hold good memories in them. All pictures do.

There was one more photo Y/n wanted to get. Silly cliché tourist picture with the gateway arch in the background. She wanted at least one of just her and Douxie, after the group photo. She’d have to somehow get one of Archie too, since she wasn’t about to pass up the chance to make a pun in the caption about Archie being in front of the arch. As she pulled Douxie close to get the picture, she got an idea. She asked him if they could get just one more. He was holding the phone since his arms were longer so he was able to get better angles with them both in it. He agreed, happy to do anything to keep that grin on her face longer. This time, when he leaned down to make their faces closer together, Y/n gave him a kiss on the cheek. The shutter snapped. Look, she wasn’t going to push, but she could nudge. Y/n pulled away and grabbed the phone to look at how it turned out, so cute, and Douxie just stayed there, leaning over, still as a statue, with wide eyes.

“Did you just- k-kiss me?” He didn’t so ecstatic. Maybe she was reading him wrong after all. Okay, time to deny.

“Yeah, it was just a cheek kiss, Doux. It was a cute pose for our picture, see,” She showed him the picture. A perfectly captured moment where they looked so happy. Where her lips would forever be on his still burning face. “Friends do it all the time.”

“Oh. Ah, okay.” That sounded disappointed, and his face wasn’t the picture of joy before, but now he just looked crestfallen. Okay so she wasn’t reading him wrong before. Good to know. She’d,, have to fix this now. She casually grabbed his hand and laced their fingers. That got him looking back up from the ground.

“C’mon, we’ve got about ten minutes to catch the next bus.”

~ ~ ~

Effingham was a quaint place. Y/n had only chosen it for it’s funny name, but it was surprisingly pretty okay. It was home to the world’s largest cross. Which would be cool, for it’s target audience, Y/n supposed. And they had a train depot. Fun. And exactly one singular popular restaurant. Which wasn’t that much more than Arcadia had, Y/n had to give it to them. They were in this tiny little mall, to see about finding some spare clothes. Y/n stopped dead in her tracks to gawk at a store that’s sign identified itself as Rural King. She tugged Douxie’s hand.

“Oh we gotta go in there.”

Douxie took one look at it and shook his head, “Are you really going to drag us into a hunting store just because it has a silly name?”

“No, I guess not,” Y/n took one last look at the place, “Can I at least get a pic of you posing in front of it?”

“Fine.” Douxie suppressed a grin as he complied with her silly request.

Once they got into a real store though, Douxie leaned over to Y/n to tell her something without the clerk hearing. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I’ve got an appearance modifier spell I’ve perfected over the years. We’re not actually here to buy anything, just get some inspiration.”

Y/n nodded, fascinated. Well, that’ll take care of the extra spending problems. Now came the fun part, finding a new look for Nari. Speaking of whom, she was over at a rack, trying on those fake fashion glasses without real lenses in them. She looked really cute in every pair she tried on, and they helped obscure her face. Good. She really took a liking to this square tortoiseshell pair. Y/n took a mental note. It was going to be getting cold soon, and plants tend to freeze in the cold, so they took the veggie lady over to go check out the winter coats. Nari picked out a puffer that looked pretty comfy, but she didn’t like that it was red. It reminded her of Bellroc. Douxie assured her that the one he’d make could be any color she liked. Not surprisingly, she wanted it to be green.

Y/n just decided on a simple outfit for herself, consisting of a black and white striped long-sleeved tee, a black short sleeve tee to layer over that, and a classic pair of jeans. It was easy, comfortable, and didn’t draw much attention. A band kid staple too. Nari wanted to be similar to Y/n and also decided on a striped tee and jeans to go under her coat. Now they just needed to find her something to contain that gorgeous head of grass. Y/n glanced over to see Douxie trying on a cap in the hat section. Perfect. They’d make her a hat. It’d be a big hat, but nothing too much.

Douxie actually did buy a couple of backpacks from the shop. Y/n was a bit confused but he told her how for some reason he couldn’t enchant something that was technically an illusion itself so he had to buy physical bags since he wanted to enchant them to be infinite vessels or something. Y/n nodded. This was interesting. She was pretty good at the magic she did know but it was mostly by instinct. No one had really taught her the technical side of it like this. She never really knew how stuff worked, just that it worked. They headed to the dollar store after finishing up with the clothing, which surprisingly, this little mall had in it for some reason. They quickly found all those necessity items they needed and got out of there fast. They were burning daylight after all.

Once back at the boat, greeted by Archie who was glad they came back within a decent time this go around, Douxie got to work. First, he enchanted those backpacks. Y/n watched his every move, fascinated, and taking mental notes. He stuffed the supplies into the bags, making sure each had emergency food and medicine just in case they’d ever get separated. The first aid kits were a great idea, considering he didn’t know much healing magic himself and Y/n could only do a temporary pain relief spell. Having stuff to bandage up wounds in their bags made Douxie feel slightly better.

Y/n filled Douxie in on the specifics of Nari chosen disguise, and he set to work on that. It came out pretty cute. Nari liked her new duds, taking her time to look over herself. Y/n handed the veggie lady her phone with the front facing camera on so Nari could use it as a mirror. She really liked that. Y/n snickered at Nari trying out different angles.

He moved onto Y/n. He didn’t magically fairy godmother her like he did the forest child, he just made her a spare set of clothes to go in that backpack. He made them according to her request, but paused at the tee shirt. “Do you want me to put a logo or something on this?”

Y/n twirled her hair around her finger. “Hmm. I’m thinking, Ash Dispersal Pattern. They’re my favourite band, ever heard of them?”

Douxie laughed as conjured up the tee. He picked one of his favourite designs from past merch. It could be considered vintage now, but it wasn’t that long ago to Doux. He fancied the idea of getting to see her in his merch a lot more now. She did have one of their tee shirts back in the bookstore, but she didn’t wear it often as it was in rotation with other band’s tees. He didn’t have competition anymore, it seems. He grinned as finished up.

“Anything else?”

“Yes, actually. Now that I know you can just magic up clothes for yourself, I would like your hoodie.”

“I can make you a hoodie like thi-“

“No, no, I want the one you’re wearing, thank you. It’s warm and familiar and it smells like you.” She said half-joking, half-serious. “It would make me feel safer.”

Douxie couldn’t believe what he was hearing. In fact some part of him thought he may have just daydreamed that. He wordlessly forked over the hoodie. She took it merrily and put it on, giving it a sniff for good measure. Now he really was daydreaming.

“Thank you, Dewdrop!” Oh, he had a pet name now. He’d hadn’t heard that one yet. Frisky people had called him all sorts of strange and embarrassing things over the centuries. But this one was a first. He guessed it was a play on his name. Dewdrop, ay? That was so soft and sweet. A shiny little dewdrop, the first thing you see in the morning. Ah. It seems that miss L/n was plotting to kill him. She was succeeding.

#douxie x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #hisirdoux x reader #douxie casperan x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux casperan imagine #hisirdoux imagine #douxie casperan imagine #douxie #hisirdoux casperan #toa douxie #douxie casperan #my writing #nert

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mcyt-amber-tftsmp · 3 years

Text

𝐀 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐀 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 {𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐛 + 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫}

Request?: Fanvergent5

Character: Ranbob

Side Character(s): none

Story-type: Platonic

Story Length: 1450 words

AU or Not: It just takes place after the incidents just ranbob becoming a bit calmer and regrets killing the fishermen off and decided to not do it again like ever

Time Period: Future

Plot Summary: Y/N reintroduces Ranbob to the outside world that she's from. There could be new things he's never seen before cause of how long he's been underwater. Eventually y/n asks about Mizu and when Ranbob tells say he doesn't remember much they go looking through the library they originally found (Karl's library)

Small Info: Maybe Karl's library in Mizu could include some of the other places he's traveled to or even the truth of all the dsmp characters Ranbob would be OOC!

Keywords:

Y/N = Your Name

Trigger Warning: none

Normal Warning: Cringe writing- and practically short! ;-; oof!

--------------------------------------------------

Third person Point Of View~

"So what's it like in the Outside World you are from?"

Those words left Ranbob's mouth as he looked at you. He hasn't really been to the overword for a really long time and has been in Mizu for most of his life and he could tell many things have changed after 11 years of staying down here. Y/N could tell.

"Eh! It's alright to be honest. There are people who are nice and then there are people who chose to be rude and obnoxious. In my opinion majority of the people where I come from are actually nice." She started.

This actually made Ranbob want to know more.

"Can I know more if you don't mind about where you come from?" He asked as you looked at him as a smile formed on your face as you nodded.

"Yeah sure!" You said as you started to tell him.

You told him how there in your town many people help each other when they are in need, how the town baker is always there and giving the poor people on the streets food for free and how there is a big library which stands out the most in the town. You even told him about how there is always an event of gladiators that takes place in the Subbin Empire led by King Porkius VII.

Ranbob's eyes lit up at the things you said. It was pretty fascinating how in eleven years things could change for the better. To be honest he missed the outside world a lot. But he's grown so used to being here that it would be a bit weird for him when he goes back but he will be able to manage hopefully.

"There are also mobs which happen to spawn at night but thankfully they don't really cause that much havoc like they used to. The endermen mobs are pretty much peaceful and don't attack as much when you accidentally look them in the eyes." You said finishing what you had to say.

"Woah... I guess a lot of things have changed." Ranbob said as you nodded.

"Mhm! So do you mind if I get to know more about the City of Mizu? If that's okay by you?" You asked as Ranbob slowly nodded.

"Sure I really don't mind just the problem is that I don't really have that much of a good memory. I may have taken that from my ancestor. But there is a library that could give a good explanation on things considering many of the history laying around here are mostly wrong. I have the key for that." He said as he ushered you to follow him to it.

It was a long walk but you two made small talk and would crack small jokes every once in a while. Those had to die down when you reached the vast door of what you thought lead to the library. Ranbob put the key through the lock and turned it to open the door which revealed a huge library filled with books and shelves and many parchments, books and quills.

"I will be honest with you. I found this library a month ago. Back then I didn't really have access to this place since I couldn't find the key and would forget in seconds as to what I was doing. I managed to find this key in some room which I am sorry, I may have forgotten." Ranbob said rubbing his neck in embarrassment.

"It's alright Ranbob." You said as you looked around the place as you took out a few books to read.

You found a book which had some information on a person by the name Ranboo. You guessed that he was Ranbob's ancestor considering the name Ran and the fact that they are both half enderman and half something else. You read through the pages once you came to a part which you found very interesting.

"Hey Ranbob did you know that Ranboo was platonically married to a guy named Tubbo and adopted a zombie piglin child named Michael?" You asked which Ranbob looked a bit shocked and slightly pissed and this made you giggle slightly.

You went through other books and came across another book which was about a person named Karl Jacobs. he seemed to be pretty intriguing to say the least considering he had two fiances named SapNap and Quackity. Ranbob didn't seem to like the Quackity guy since he told him about how he was slightly stupid and other stuff.

What other interesting thing about Karl was how he was a time traveler. It showed the many places he had been into which consisted of the past, present and future. It was something very exciting yet it was dangerous.

You also read on about another guy who happened to be Demigod/god figure. Somebody by the name FoolishG. He wasn't an all powerful God like DreamXD who you guessed was Dream's brother or something. Though the one thing about Gods which made you feel intimidated was their height which reaches like 20 feet or above. Again it was very scary.

You also read about how there was a Red Egg which was a huge danger to the entire Dream SMP which existed a while back in the past. Sources say that it had been defeated hopefully for it to never come back for the second time.

You had hoped it never comes back after what you read from this. Ranbob was pretty much praying for that egg to not come back either since he doesn't seem to like the idea of getting infected or something.

You wnet through other characters like Eret, GeorgeNotFound, Captain Puffy, Awesamdude, Ponk, BadBoyHalo, Skeppy, Philza Minecraft, Wilbur Soot, TommyInnit, Tubbo, Purpled, Technoblade, Punz, Niki Nihachu, Hannah Rose and so on.

After all the reading you noticed how late it was and told Ranbob that you had to get going. Ranbob nodded as he led you out of the library as he closed it quickly behind you and went with you to the entrance.

You went towards your boat as Ranbob looked at you. You came up with an idea as you looked at Ranbob.

"Hey Ranbob?" She asked.

"Hm?" He hummed in response.

"Do you want to go to with me to see the outside world? I thought you would want to go see it yourself since you had a lot of interest and whatnot." You said as Ranbob pondered.

He did want to go but did he want to right now? He wasn't really sure. Plus it was night time and he didn't feel like going at this time right now so he shook his head.

"Don't get me wrong I do want to but not right now. Maybe another time." He said as you nodded.

"I get it. Though let me know whenever you want to cause this isn't the last time I am coming back here. You are a really great company to have. Can we be friends though?" She said and asked which brought a smile on Ranbob's face.

"Sure." he said with a nod.

"Alright! See you tomorrow! Bye Ranbob!" You said as you sailed away on your boat by rowing the paddles.

"Bye Y/N!" He said as he watched until you disappeared out of sight.

To be honest it felt really nice talking to someone and not killing them off for once. He actually felt happy knowing he had found a friend. He was actually looking forward for you to come back tomorrow. He sighed and went down the ladder.

This time he was very happy and smiling without having to kill off anyone.

Guess this was something he had been missing his whole life.

A very good friend.

--------------------------------------------------

#ranbob #ranbob x reader #platonic #oneshots #ranbob x you #ranbob x y/n #tales from the smp #lost city of mizu

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emilycollins00 · 4 years

Note

I LOVE LOVE your headcanons and scenarios so much I can't help but make a request!! How do you think Itaru would react if a colleague (reader) from work found out that he was a gamer, the complete opposite from his work persona and what becomes of their relationship after? THANK YOU SO MUCHH!!

YOU ARE SO VERY WELCOME, DEAR!! 💕 I feel so grateful to receive comments like these, ugh. Hope you like it!

Pairing: Itaru Chigasaki x Reader

Title: Forceful revelation

Itaru would never say he liked his job per se. It was more like he had had to get used to it if he wanted to buy his precious games plus a place to play them. Even after all this time working in the same department, he hadn’t tried to get promoted or cared about developing relationships with his colleagues.

Never felt like he needed those things.

He was content doing his expected hours and then going back home at the end of the day. Especially if next day was his day off, like that night.

Waiting for some final copies to be made, he noticed a few colleagues passing by, their jobs already done.

“Good work today, Chigasaki-kun”

Flashing an already practiced working smile, the blond wondered if he would ever remember their names just as much as they liked to remind him of his own “Good work you too”

Just as he predicted, he could hear the faint laugh of his co-workers entering the elevator. Itaru looked at the clock- Only a little more before he could leave. The blond sighed tiredly as he sat again on his desk.

Everyone at the dorm made fun of him, but there really was no heavier burden to carry than the pressure of having to uphold your image and reputation. It wasn’t as easy as he made it look.

“Chigasaki-san!”

You were a clear example of it.

Itaru didn’t have to lift his head to recognize your steps, but did it anyway. You were practically running and he felt even more tired just by watching you “Y/N-san” he greeted, not moving from his seat as he watched you regain your breath.

It had been a bit more than five months since you had transferred to his department at the company and he still didn’t know how to deal with your personality and your seemingly attachment to his working persona.

“Thank goodness I made it!” you smiled brightly as you regained your lost breath.

At first glance, you and Itaru weren’t that different. You both were usually congratulated for doing a good job at work and had overall good relationships with everyone.

However, Itaru knew better.

You had achieved much more than he had in all his years in such a short time. He even heard rumors that you would probably get promoted to manager by the end of the semester.

Which wasn’t surprising to him though, seeing you didn’t stop moving for a second from one project to another. What had your parent given you as a kid?

“...and so I was wondering if you knew the password for the projector they have in room 201? You know, the one with red chairs and a big plant on the corner”

Itaru hummed, looking around his desk to give you a copy of the passwords “Here you go, you can keep them”

“As expected of Chigasaki-san!” you accepted them happily.

The spring member’s smile faltered.

Honestly, it was annoying to be put by such high standards.

He had tried to not get close to you, hoping the polite distance he always kept with others worked, but so far, you were still practically glued to him whether it was to ask him for advice or commenting how much you respected him.

…If you knew how he really was, Itaru was sure you wouldn’t be talking about him so happily. Focusing again, he noticed you waiting for something “Sorry, what did you say, Y/N-san?”

“Ah! I heard you are taking tomorrow off?”

“Yes, some personal matters happened at home” he turned around to make you understand he had things to do “I already signed and prepared everything, so there shouldn’t be a problem to send without me the first draft to our fellow company, I already talked with their administration”

“You really are amazing” he heards you whisper impressed.

He didn’t comment on your compliment “Anyway if anything happens tomorrow, I’ll be counting on you, Y/N-san”

Exactly as he thought, you gasped, beaming happily at the thought of being relied on “Of course! Good luck with your personal matter!”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“I can’t believe you took a day off just to play games”

Izumi rested her hands on her hips when she discovered the spring member laying on the sofa, tracksuit on and shirt already filled with crumbs from the bag of chips next to him. He already had bags under his eyes.

“I did my overtime and this is how I chose my reward, director”

Rolling her eyes, she took her handbag, considering futile to argue with him “I’m going shopping and then to a meeting, make sure you don’t stay all day in that position, all right?”

Not breaking contact from his game, Itaru hummed a goodbye. Damn, thank god he had taken a day off. This event was being too competitive. He wouldn’t have been able to make the quests unless he spent last night and next 24 hours defending his rank.

At some point the doorbell started ringing “Someone is at the door” he called out loud to no one in particular.

The bell kept ringing. Where were Matsukawa or Citron supposed to be at times like this?

“Itaru, my ears! Open the door, dammit, open the door!” Kamekichi flew over him.

Groaning, he walked towards the entrance, eyes still fixed on the screen. Hadn’t he made it clear he wasn’t planning to move until tomorrow night? “Hey director, you should remember taking your keys when- Shit! How come these fuckers have so much luck? I’m gonna have to fucking sweep the floor with-”

“Chigasaki…san…?”

And for the first time since yesterday, slowly, Itaru broke contact with his controls.

No.

That couldn’t be you.

If anything, the situation happening was just the most lucid dream Itaru had ever had, because there was no way in hell that was real life.

“Itaru, who’s this jerk, want me to beat them up?” Kamekichi had landed on his shoulder, wings moving in an attempt to scare you, but neither of you reacted to it.

Gripping your bag, your face was white, looking like a scared puppy that had just encountered a scary and bigger dog “I, uh… really apologize for coming unannounced on your day off. Chief tried to contact you but, um, we couldn’t reach you and-“

“…Why are you here”

You shivered at the tone of his voice. You had never heard Itaru talk like that to anyone. Ever. You showed him an envelope “T-there’s this document chief needed that you forgot to sign for this afternoon meeting and…”

In silence, he grabbed them, scanning them with a stoic face. You could cut the mood with a knife “Pen” he opened his hand.

“A-ah, right!”

Barely exchanging looks, you took the signed papers and thanked him.

“Chigasa-“

“I hope that’s all, wouldn’t want you to come again and tire yourself out more”

You were practically shaking. Wishing him a good day, you turned and practically ran out of the place.

With the door closed, Itaru leaned his back on it, not even looking at the control resting on his hand.

Out of all the people he didn’t wish to show this side of him, somehow, unconsciously, you had become one of the firsts.

“…Well, shit”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When you finally took notice, you had already reached the station, breathing heavily. The situation that had happened moments ago struck you as surreal.

Itaru Chigasaki, your colleague at work, was what you would describe as the epitome of what you aspired to be. His charm, professionalism… could someone be any more perfect?

“I’m gonna have to fucking sweep the floor with…”

You shook your head, still not over it. You had never expected someone you admired so much to be so… different outside work.

Oh god, work.

You mentally groaned, already cringing at what scenario could possibly happen when he came back next week. As you entered the train, your mind started running wild. Would he accuse you? Joke about it? Although he hadn’t seemed comfortable… Wait, did people know about this? Would he threaten you to not say anything? The last thing you wanted was to be on bad terms with him!

As you sat on the platform, you noticed the crumbled documents in your hand, Itaru’s sign finally on them.

So much for a quick visit.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Neither of you talked about it when he came back next week.

Or the next one.

Time passed, and you were getting more and more anxious. Your blond colleague had never been someone who was cold to anyone, but it was more than clear that he had made a point not to interact with you under any circumstances, unless it was necessary.

Which was exactly why you understood his raised eyebrows looking at the coffee you had brought to his desk. Thankfully, he took the cup, bringing it to his lips “I believe I left all the files in your place, Y/N-san, do you need anything else?”

"Ah, well..." you had no idea what to say or how to react to him anymore. Itaru could feel it too, however, he didn’t try to alleviate the awkwardness.

It was painfully obvious how much it had shocked you seeing him at the dorm, so he didn’t understand why you kept trying to talk to him “You don’t have to force yourself, Y/N-san, people will notice things like that” he kept talking, his mouth covered by the cup

You opened your mouth to try and deny it but closed it, unable to. The awkward silence that had followed the last few days appearing again.

Pressing your lips together, you whispered an excuse and turned back to your own desk, dejected.

As he finished the coffee, Itaru couldn’t help but follow your figure. He had arrived expecting rumors about him, but no one seemed to have changed their demeanor.

So then, why did he feel like he was getting punched when you averted your eyes from his on meetings or he felt like being a dick to you when after it you tried to appease him?

Itaru leaned on his chair, sighing. Was it guilt?

You were someone who aspired to do your best with all you got, reminding him so much of people like Sakuya or director.

Maybe that’s why he felt like he had disappointed you, which made Itaru angrier and more confused. Why should he feel bad about it? It had been your fault. Leaving those thoughts aside he tried to concentrate again. It was actually better for him, now that he didn’t have to deal with you.

At least that’s what he repeated to himself.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It was almost dinner time when the doorbell at Mankai rang.

“I’ll go!” Izumi left the kitchen, opening the door and finding you there, not that the young woman knew you “Yes?”

“Hi, uh… Is Chigasaki-san inside? I’m a… colleague from work”

The young woman laughed nervously, looking inside and then back at you again “Is… Itaru-san expecting you?”

You shook your head “I can wait here if he prefers to change. I’m not in a hurry”

“Oh! Um… all right, I’ll call him. Please wait a second”

The door closed again, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm down. A minute later, the blond came out. You took another look at his appearance. It really was miles apart from his working persona.

“I figured it wouldn’t matter anymore” he shrugged, answering as if he had just read your thoughts. His personality was on another level too “Why are you here?”

You swallowed down “I... I am lazy too, Chigasaki-san!”

Frowning, Itaru opened his mouth confused “What are you… “

“I don’t like to clean at home and get overwhelmed easily! also, I hate waking up early and I don’t like waiting for the food to get cold and end up burning myself…!”

What were you doing shouting all those things about you?

“…I also tend to leave everything until the last minute because I love spending time on the phone and have to make up for it after and, uh, what I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable in your own house! But..!” you clenched your fists “You are still the Chigasaki-san that I admire and respect, it doesn’t matter if you behave differently outside work. You are you!”

Itaru stared at you, not knowing how to react to your outburst.

Seeing your expectant face waiting for his reaction, his mind suddenly compared it to how the spring troupe did that cringy act to keep him from leaving the dorm.

Noticing the similarities, he found himself smiling and then laughing, under you confused stare.

‘You are you!’

A tiny smile reached his face. It was as if the burden and guilt he had been carrying these weeks about being fake had lifted from his shoulders “…You really are something else”

You raised your hands, moving them to reject those words “I’m sorry! I just meant it was…!” Itaru kept staring at you with a smile you had never seen before and you blushed, not knowing how to behave right now.

“Ey, Y/N-san…”

“Y-yes?”

He looked at the dorm and then to you, smirking now “…Would you like to play some games?”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“Fuck, Itaru-san I told you to wait! You are gonna kill me too if you throw that grenade now!”

“I don’t need weak people in my party” the blond pressed the bomb, eliminating every single person surrounding him “GG, Banri”

“SHIT! Why would you-!” they kept arguing until a knock was heard on the door

“May I come in?”

“Oh, Y/N-chan-san! It’s been a while” the high school boy turned around

You smiled at him “I know! There are a lot of things to take care of as a new manager… I brought some snacks as an apology though” you lifted a bag “I’m not late, am I?”

Itaru scoffed, still looking at the screen “Hey there, Y/N, more like I thought you had gotten scared”

You frowned, making space for yourself in the couch next to them “I never back down from a challenge Itaru, and you know it! You are just too enthusiastic when it comes to these things, so I have to prepare myself to kick your ass”

“Mmm… I wonder where did that ‘I admire you the most, Chigasaki-san’ attitude go. I kind of miss it”

“I can respect you and still want to see you eating dirt, you know”

The spring member snickered, stopping the game and giving you the controls “Yeah, yeah, let's show you how to really level up to the fullest to at least entertain me”

“You bet I will!”

Itaru wouldn’t say he tried hard to achieve big things or create ties with others, that just wasn’t his thing.

However, glancing at you talking to Banri about the best way to make him lose, he thought allowing you entering in his world hadn’t been so bad after all.

And he smiled. Guess relationships really worked like that.

_________________________________________________________

Hopefully you guys ended up liking it! Have a wonderful day! 💕

#A3! Actor Training Game #a3 act #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#a3 #a3 itaru #itaru chigasaki #a3! itaru #itaru #itaru x reader #chigasaki itaru #chigasaki itaru x reader #a3 x reader

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miraculousandbts · 3 years

Text

BTS | AMAs

P.S. The story is in y/n's perspective. Just because I wanted to.

Summary: You get your first big nomination, but you just had to stumble into a very handsome stranger.

Pairing: OT7 X Reader (Platonic)

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning: Reader’s train of thought goes crazy every once in a while. I feel like this should be a warning.

I was hugging my manager and jumping in circles with her, as a way of expressing my happiness. Ashley was not only my manager, but also one of my closest friends, always supporting me and believing in me since the start. Both of us were ecstatic with the news, and this was our way of showing it. Aside from jumping, we both were also screaming very loudly. I had never been so thankful for having a house near the forest area without neighbours.

Oh, wait! I never introduced myself; how rude of me. (Yes, I was thinking about the Thea Stilton books...) I'm y/n, a singer and songwriter. I live in LA. Me and Ash were just watching the American Music Awards nominations, and we just couldn't control our excitement when they took my name. This was my first nomination for an award. It wouldn't be that big of a deal for an experienced artist or someone who has been in the industry for long, but I'm still a rookie, debuting only two years ago.

Me and Ashley finally calmed down when a very startled guard came in and told us that we screamed so loud that he saw bats fly away from deep inside the forest. We sheepishly apologised, and decided to go to sleep. I had been recording a song the whole day, while she had been busy with manager duties, so we both were exhausted. I had actually known her for the last four years, and she often stayed over. So often, in fact, that my guest room had become 'Ashley's Room' very quickly.

After bidding each other happy good nights, we both went to bed in our respective rooms, falling asleep speedily.

*****

Taylor was applying my makeup, while I sat in the stiff makeup chair. This had been going on for the past hour, despite me telling her that I wanted light makeup and a simple dress. Instead, she and my stylist Ben decided to go against my wishes for once. Ben had prepared an extravagant dress too fancy even for a royal ball, and I was thankful it wasn't pink or blue or yellow; I absolutely did not want to look like a princess, that just wouldn't be me. Taylor kept on applying a little too much makeup on my face for my liking. She was very talented, so at least I was sure I wouldn't look bad.

Right now, she was working on my eye makeup, expertly putting on eyeliner and...something. I'm not good with this stuff. Taylor's assistant, whose name I always forgot, was painting my nails. I looked at her working. She was a pro at this. She smoothly glided the brush over my nails, effortlessly painting them purple, and then decorating them. She used as less materials as possible, knowing I hated it when even my nails felt heavy; my face was enough.

After two more hours of torture, I was finally ready. I looked breathtaking, but if I had an option, I would still go with something lighter. After another hour of sitting in the limo, we were finally there.

I got out, and there were cameras in my face. All I saw were purple blotches, because the camera men couldn't use their brains enough to shut off the flash. Or maybe those cameras didn't have an option to shut off the flash.

Anyway, I struck a few poses, blew some kisses, and walked ahead. And then I saw Dan. He was a reporter for such gigs, and I often did short interviews with him. He wasn't like the others; he didn't ask about rumours or made new ones, he didn't ask controversial questions to increase their channel's TRP.

I gave him a grin and walked towards him.

"Hey, Dan."

"Y/n! Looking beautiful as always."

"Oh, you flatter me." I kept a hand on my chest.

"Okay, stop with the over dramatics, girlie." You grinned.

He motioned his cameraman to start recording. I tuned out the whole introduction, and focused when he asked me a question, the said question being how was I feeling about being here even though it hadn't been long since my debut. "It's all thanks to my fans. I love making music, and I believe that if you do something with true passion, you will be successful. I guess this is destiny's way of showing me that what I'm doing is right. And not gonna lie, it feels like I've been feeling like I'm on a sugar rush since the nominees were announced, because of the adrenaline."

After some more questions and smiles, I finally went in.

I was too focused on not tripping on my own feet because of the long dress, so the first thing I did after entering was bump into someone. Great! I wasn't even surprised anymore, knowing how I was. "I am so sorry!" I looked up with wide eyes, only to meet kind brown ones. It took me a second to register that he wasn't alone, six other men behind him. They seemed familiar. I could tell they were from east Asia. I glanced at all of them, and then looked at him, apologising again.

"It is okay." He had a cute accent to his English, and I internally smiled, not only because of his accent, but also because he wasn't mad. I must've smiled in relief, because he looked amused. Now that I was looking at him properly, he was handsome, with a capital H. Little round face, pretty eyes, cute boop-able nose. And then he smiled. And then I died. It was the cutest smile I had ever seen!

Thankfully, I wasn't the kind of gal who would stand there checking him out. All of this took me a second, and I excused myself after thanking him.

*****

"Oh, hey!" I heard a smooth deep voice as soon as I sat down. I looked to my side and found one of the friends of the man I had bumped into earlier. I was right, my brain didn't forget. I smiled a small smile. "Hey."

Extending my hand towards him the old fashioned way, introduced myself. "Y/n."

He shook my hand, seemingly unfazed by my apparent childish behaviour. "Kim Namjoon, more commonly known as RM."

That's when it clicked. RM. K-Pop. BTS. My eyes must've widened; I was always terrible at hiding my emotions. "Everything okay?" He brought me out of my stupor. "Uh, yeah. Just, when I stumbled into one of you guys before, you all seemed familiar, I just couldn't place your faces anywhere." I replied honestly. "Oh." He simply leaned back into his chair and nodded.

"So, in which category are you nominated?" He continued.

"Top social artist. You?"

"Same. It'll be a four year streak for us if we win again."

"Ooh, really. Well then, I hope you win."

"Don't you want to win?"

"Coming here already feels like a dream. I don't think I can handle the adrenaline if I do win."

"So basically you want us to win for completely selfish purposes, huh?"

You both laughed at that remark, and continued making small talk for a while. Then he said he had to use the washroom. I hummed in his direction, and as soon as he got up, I saw the guy I had ran into in the chair next to his.

He had noticed Namjoon getting up too, so he was looking on my direction. He grinned at me, and sat in Namjoon's chair. "Hello."

"Hey."

"I am sorry. My English is not that good. Only Namjoon speaks English." He sheepishly rubbed his neck. "Why are you apologising for that?" I was genuinely curious. It was okay to not know perfect English. Even though I was a native English speaker, I still made mistakes. Everyone did. And the said language wasn't even his first language. "At the entrance, I wanted to talk."

"Oh. Well, You should have, I don't judge because of stuff like this." He smiled at that. "I will introduce you to them." He gestured to his band mates who were very engrossed in the show. Before he could do that, I interrupted him. "Hey, sorry. I haven't been in the industry for long, and I've only ever heard your guys' name, so...I only know RM and V? Is that right? So, yeah, I don't know your name."

I cursed at myself internally. Way, to go y/n! So damn awkward. He must've sensed my hesitation, because all he did was offer me his hand. Ooh, the old fashioned way. Good to know I wasn't the only one.

"Suga."

"Y/n." I shook his hand. Namjoon came back at that moment and him and Suga said something to each other in Korean. Wait, Suga? That does not sound right. Oh, right! It must be his stage name.

And then I facepalmed. Literally. I didn't think before my hand met my forehead. I must've made a pretty loud smack, because both of them were now looking at me like I was some weirdo. I sighed and slowly hid my face in my hands. "These kind of things always happen to me..." I mumbled.

I looked up when I heard them chuckling. I pouted, but I knew they could see the relief on my face that they didn't think of me like I was demented. "Don't worry, we've been living with these guys for the past eight years, these kind of things don't faze us anymore." Namjoon gestured to the other guys, who were still oblivious to their surroundings, absorbed in the performances.

I let out a breathy chuckle at the fact that they were so openly dissing their own friends. Namjoon, by now, was seated in the chair in which Suga was previously sitting in.

"So, I refuse to believe that Suga is your real name. And I would rather be literal friends with you guys, rather than two artists who just know each other."

"Yoongi. Min Yoongi." The way he said it reminded me of how Geronimo Stilton introduced himself. 'Why my brain has to go down completely random memory lanes is beyond me...and why am I thinking about a kid's book series?'

Within the next hour, I had been introduced to the other guys, and all of us were conversing about anything and everything. Seokjin was very happy that I was loving his dad jokes, Hoseok was a little too excited about my proposal of shooting a dance cover on one of mine or their songs, Jimin, Taehyung and me got along very well, as we were all the same age, and Jungkook had offered to teach me boxing, after I expressed my wish to learn it.

All in all, I was getting along very well with them. They were fun to be with, and it was absolutely adorable how they sometimes got flustered over their mistakes while talking. After the fun night ended, I congratulated them on their win, and went home, completely exhausted.

*****

"Noona!" Jungkook was the first to notice me. With wide eyes and a happy grin, he came to hug me. I had decided to surprise the boys by coming to Korea. Right now, I was standing in their dance studio. Even after four years, we were still going strong. It felt like now I had four elder brothers, two twins, and a kid. '...that was a terrible reference...god, please tell me what is wrong with me.'

Soon, all the boys came to hug me, though I tried running away to avoid their sweaty hugs, but Jungkook held me at one place, while I tried to squirm away. I should've just waited in their dorm.

"Kookie!" All I got in reply was a mischievous giggle. He really was a baby. Later that day, a collaboration between us was confirmed, and I couldn't have been happier.

Geronimo Stilton and Thea Stilton might be kids’ books, but they’re still the best!! Change my mind, I dare you.

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youllallriseintheink · 3 years

Text

A one-off request for @lonelyghostwriter: a story about Joey introducing Henry to the more innocent side of magic. This is just a goofy, whimsical ball of fun, and Joey x Henry is implied. This is the last one-off before I’m finishing “The Angel of the Ink Machine.”

The Boris had come out perfect.

The Boris had come out perfect!

And then it had decked him and run away to God knew where, but it had come out perfect! Joey was ecstatic. All he had to do now was hunt the creature down and make a few more and his dream would be fulfilled! And in the meantime, he had one more dream that he needed to fulfill, one that concerned his dear partner, Henry.

Despite sharing so much of his life and soul with Henry, he’d always kept the magic secret from him. He’d moved nearly all his supplies into the studio when Henry had moved in. Even the spell he needed to do regularly to keep disease at bay, he completed before Henry got up in the morning, with a pentagram hidden under the carpeting in their closet. But seeing their cartoon creations brought to life was worth the risk of scaring him- and anyhow, Joey Drew had planned how he’d do this years ago.

After dealing with Buddy’s body and before coming home that night, Joey made calls to Allison and Sammy. It was late, and in the excitement he’d forgotten that he’d fired Allison out of anger mere hours ago. Thankfully he’d been able to bribe her into one more session of potion-making. Sammy hadn’t picked up at all, but Joey could make do without him.

---

Henry woke up, far too early, to Joey shaking him awake with a big smile on his face.

“Huh? What is it?” Henry asked.

“I have a whole day planned for us. Get up! We’re meeting Allison soon. There’s something- a lot of somethings, actually- that I need to show you. You have an hour to get ready. Alright?”

“Uh, okay!” Henry was kind of used to Joey being full of surprises. He was fairly sure this would be a good one- they usually were. Within an hour, he was in the passenger seat of Joey’s car.

Joey took a deep breath. This would be the difficult part- admitting all he’d been hiding from Henry for the past few years. “So, Henry... you know how I tell you that Sammy and I go bowling together? Well, that’s not entirely true. Sammy and I share a hobby, but it’s one I didn’t know how to explain to you without showing it to you, and... anyhow, we perform magic together.”

Henry didn’t miss a beat. “Oh. Okay, the thought of Sammy doing stage magic is pretty strange. But it seems right up your alley- why did you hide it from me?”

“It’s not stage magic. And you’ll see why later.”

“Oh. Um.” Henry wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Great. I can’t wait!”

A while later, they pulled up to a lovely brick house on the outskirts of town. Over the short wooden fence, Henry could see a lovely hutch of three rabbits. The garden had a lot of browning plants in it that clearly weren’t getting enough attention. “Nice place- must have cost a lot to get one in this area. Who lives here?” Henry asked.

“Allison,” Joey answered, ringing the doorbell. “I borrow books and buy potions off of her. And we’re going to make potions with her today.”

Thomas opened the door, rolled his eyes and called for Allison before retreating into the garage. Then, Allison popped her head in.

“Hey, guys! Sorry to call you here so early. But you know- early is the only time you can get fresh morning dew, and for what we’re making, that’s pretty important.”

“Of course,” Joey said. “I brought everything we’ll need. Let’s get cooking!”

Henry had been put to the task of chopping up herbs as Joey mixed three strangely-labelled vials into a pot of boiling water and Allison was outside collecting morning dew and whiskers from her rabbits. He was pretty sure at this point that this was some bizarre prank. Hopefully there would be some kind of payoff to it and this wasn’t just a waste of a Saturday, but at least Allison seemed pleasant enough.

“So, where do you get crow’s blood from?” Henry asked, a bit of sarcasm in his voice.

“A crow!” It didn’t seem like a good idea to tell Henry about the black market- at least, not yet.

“Okay. So, what’s this potion supposed to do?”

“You’ll see,” Joey said cryptically, “this is actually a pretty powerful one.”

A few minutes later, everything had been added, and the potion had boiled for just long enough, according to Allison. She scooped some out into coffee mugs with a ladle and handed it out to Joey and Henry.

Henry stared down apprehensively at the unappetizing mix of herbs and hair floating in the clearish-brown substance. “What’s it going to taste like?”

Allison smiled. “About how it looks, I’m afraid. But go on, down the hatch. Oh, and the effect might startle you, but it isn’t supposed to last long, so just try to have fun with it.”

Henry did as he was told, and Allison took his cup. He started to feel... heavy, and off-balance, and dropped down onto his hands. All traces of red melted from his vision, leaving the world in tones of blue, yellow, and green. Joey ruffled his hair, and it seemed as though his skull was smaller and thinner than usual. He said something that Henry heard as gibberish. Then, Joey took a sip of his drink, handed the cup to Allison, and before Henry’s eyes, turned into a black lab.

Henry yelped and skittered backwards, and yelped again once he caught sight of his own paws. But Allison was laughing- she seemed unconcerned, and she had said that this was temporary. So, Henry rolled with it. Allison ushered the two of them into the backyard, where they played fetch. A while later, as Henry was trotting back to Allison with the tennis ball in his mouth, he felt his teeth dull and his center of balance change once again, and he spat the ball back onto the ground. Joey came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Well, Henry? Do you believe in magic now?” Joey asked.

“Yeah, it would be pretty hard to deny at this point.”

“Thank you. Because I have a whole lot else to show you.”

Joey returned to Allison. “And thank you! I’ll miss this, you know.”

“I’ll miss it, too,” Allison admitted. “I’ve never made a potion this advanced before- and I might not have much use for it, but imagine the kind of money I could make from this! Oh, and thanks for testing it for me.” Allison went quiet a moment. “Let’s keep in touch, alright?”

Joey weighed his bitterness with his desire to do just that. “Sure.”

With that, Joey and Henry got back into Joey’s car and they took off to their next destination.

“So... you’ve been doing stuff like that for years?”

“Well, yes and no. Allison is more of a specialist than I am. Unfortunately, the stuff I’m most into has a bad reputation, but I’m going to show you that it can be just as innocent as Allison’s potions.”

Henry nodded. After literally turning into a dog, he wasn’t even going to try and guess what Joey had in store. After a few minutes, Henry found himself gazing out at a wooded area on the edge of town. Henry figured that Joey must have been driving to another city, but instead he pulled over onto the side of the road and ushered Henry into the brush, taking with him a bag. Finally, Joey reached a clearing and dropped the bag.

“This is the place,” he announced.

It was an untamed natural area, with no trails made through it. No one was likely to come out here. It wasn’t pretty either- just a dusty field surrounded by trees.

“Sammy and I spent our first few sessions here. I spent some of my first sessions here alone, too- learning to summon things. And now, I’m going to summon something for you. A demonstration.” Joey’s back was turned to Henry- he was scared of how he’d react.

Henry was beginning to worry- Joey sounded like he was trying to seem positive, but it wasn’t working.

“What kinds of things? And how?”

Joey met Henry’s eyes. Henry didn’t seem too afraid yet. Still, there was no easy way to explain this. “We summon spirits and Gods from the spirit realm using pentagrams. The spirit realm isn’t hell, spirits aren’t demons, and Gods aren’t the Christian God. No religion is right about everything. Spirits aren��t angels and demons- they aren’t fully good or evil any more than people are. But it’s the more reckless ones- the fast-and-easy-with-the-rules ones- that are likely to come when you’re summoning one. Pentagrams are like a ‘help wanted’ add for spirits and Gods. They have a job description, which are in the pentagram itself. Pentagrams are like writing in their language. And, they have an offering of pay. The sacrifice for spirits is generally flesh or blood. Tasks that are more difficult for them, you want to leave out more of a payment, or the ritual has a higher chance of failing- no one took the bait, basically. Or, someone did, but thought your offer was so insulting that they found a way to bungle it up. Gods… they demand a greater sacrifice. But summoning Gods is considered insane even by pentagram users. A spirit won’t escape unless your pentagram has line breaks, and there’s a limit to how much damage they can do. As for Gods, well… even I don’t know how to contain them, or the consequences of letting them escape…”

Joey broke his somber monologue with a bright smile. “So, wanna ask a demon to grab us some lunch?”

“Uh...”

“Okay, I know I made that sound scary. But I’ve... actually been doing a summoning ritual every morning to keep myself healthy for years. It’s no big deal.”

Henry smiled awkwardly. “Can I maybe just watch?”

Joey smiled back. “Sure.”

And so, Henry watched. Joey drew up a pentagram in the dirt, lit a candle in its center, and then slit his wrist and let his blood drop onto the pentagram.

Henry rushed to the bag and pulled out a first aid kit to tend to Joey’s wound. Henry had seen the scars on Joey’s right hand before, and had seen them seem to grow and stay fresh, but he’d never gotten the chance to really look at them before.

“Y’know, this is actually a huge relief. I mean, it’s a lot of things, but... Joey, I thought you were self-harming, and I didn’t know how to bring it up. I’m glad you’re not.”

Joey smiled. “Thanks. So, are you okay with this?”

“I mean, I guess so. It seems shady, but you aren’t harming anyone.”

“Good. Because I’ve been working with the Gods of the spirit realm, and with their help, I brought one of our cartoons into existence. And I didn’t want to hide the magic from you anymore because I couldn’t imagine leaving you out of something that big! The toon I made is a Boris. He’s scared, and hiding somewhere in the studio. After lunch, will you help me coax him out of hiding?”

Henry’s face was lit up with awe and disbelief. “Oh my God. Of course! I can’t believe this! Joey, you should have told me sooner!”

Joey could practically feel the weight of secrecy leaving his shoulders. He still had to keep the murders away from Henry, of course, but he didn’t mind that. The murders weren’t a part of him. Magic was. “Thank you. I should have known I could trust you.”

At that moment, the pentagram glowed, and a picnic lunch sprang up from the ground.

“Let’s go see what those demons sent us for lunch.”

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #joey drew #Henry Stein #allison pendle #satanism #my fanfiction #requests #lonelyghostwriter #creatorship

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tangledlove27 · 4 years

Text

Old Friends and New Beginnings

Part 3 to the Chosen Curves series

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: Things are changing for the better.

Pairing: Din x Female reader

Warnings: small injury, mild violence, and plenty of fluff with a little dirty talk

A/n: Thank @keeper0fthestars and @absurdthirst for your help with this fic

You stood at the bottom of the ladder blankly staring at the cockpit. The kid was down for a nap after the excitement at the bazaar earlier. It truly was not your fault the man had mistaken your kindness for something else, you had simply been trying to help another child find their family. After mispronounced words the man had pulled his blaster and fired. The shot had thankfully missed the baby entirely and grazed you, it was however enough to get your riduur’s attention. Din was by your side in a heartbeat calming everyone involved, he translated what your intentions had been and tensions quickly diffused. The mandalorian quickly pushed you back home when he had seen the blaster shot on your shoulder.

So here you stood longing for your husband, Din treated your burn and left without another word. Slowly you climbed up to him praying to the maker he was not still mad at you. He was your riduur through thick and thin and nothing could change that right? Making your way in, you stand with your back against the wall. “Din?” you try making your voice as tiny as possible hoping it's enough to keep him from yelling.

It never came, Din sat silently gathering his strength. “Please Din, I’m so sorry. Maker just don’t leave…” You never got to finish. The mandalorian was up and in front of you before you could mumble another word. He hesitated for a moment before grabbing the back of your neck and molding you to his chest. Armour long been removed he was soft and inviting. You clung to your best friend as if your life depended on his warmth. Tears flowed easy in these few moments, when an apology made its way to the tip of your tongue.

“Ner kar’ta I’m not mad at you, Maker I’m not mad at all. I was scared to death I had lost you and the kid today. And I do not know how I would have ever lived without you.” The child fast asleep below the two of you held fast to one another eventually moving to sit in the chair. Your riduur eased his hands over your back and buried his face in your neck. Both of you stayed like that till your sobs had slowed to mere hiccups.

“Din,” you sniffled, gathering your thoughts together for what you needed to say.

“Yes mesh’la?”

“I think I’m ready to have a baby with you.” Din’s head shot up from where he was pressing kisses to your favorite spot. His eyes became as big as the galaxy itself.

“Really cyare?” There was no hiding the surprised joy in his voice no matter how he tried.

“Really,” you swallow to try and wet your throat. “But we can barely take care of the green terror, I have no idea how we could for another.” Fresh tears are threatening to fall at the spiraling thoughts in your head.

“I think I have an idea, if you’re willing to listen.” Din began rubbing your back once again to keep your tears at bay.

“I’m all ears Din.”

“Well, come on mesh’la let’s go lay in our bunk and we can talk about this.” He says as he pats your behind to get you out of his lap. Ushering you into the bunk, Din takes his place and pulls you close to his chest. “This is something Paz Vizsla and I discussed the last time we were in the covert and I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you about it.”

Worry evident on your face as you sat straight up in bed sending him a pleading look. “Din, what’s wrong? Please my love, you’re scaring me.”

The mandalorian quickly touched your cheek reassuring you nothing was wrong. “Oh no ner cyare. So sorry sweet one, wrong choice of words. No Paz’s son has come of age and much to his father’s dismay has wanted to follow in my path. Which means I could pull back as the tribe only beroya.” Once again you shot straight up but this look was far from the tears of the last one.

“Wait, why would you be scared to tell me something like that.”

“Riduur,” he chuckled at the glare from you. “Cort Vizsla only turned of age a couple months ago. And I wasn’t sure if you were ready to settle down in the covert just yet?”

“Are you kidding me,” you interrupted his never ending thoughts. “Of course I’m ready to stop this bullshit. Let someone else deal with this for a while.” The full body laugh that came from the body beneath you had you glaring once again.

“I love you cyar’ika.” He kissed your forehead then pulled the rest of you against his body. “We can talk more in the morning about all this, but tonight I need to feel you against me. I want to take care of you after what happened today.”

“Din,” you moaned at his words, hearing the promise underneath.

“Yes mesh’la?” His lust filled eyes met yours and both of you gasped when Din’s hand found your breast.

“Make love to me.” He held your breast for a moment longer before pushing back down on the bunk. Slowly he erased every memory of earlier events with each touch of your body. Lips fused together in passion and hands explored every inch of flesh they could reach. Din reached your stomach and stopped, taking his time relearning every single curve.

“Want me to make love to you cyare? Hmm?” His hands lingered on your midsection as he imagined what you would hopefully look like in the coming months

“Yes, yes Din please.” The lustful need in your voice went straight to his cock.

“Want me to take you apart like I did the first time ner kar’ta? Want me to put a baby in you mesh’la?” You frantically nod wanting to feel Din’s deep inside. He pushed himself up, removing his shirt and starting on his pants when he felt your hand graze his side. His hands stilling as he looked to the stars and moaned. “Riduur, please don’t stop.”

“Din…” Your answering moan was cut short by a panicked noise at the door. Din reached for the button on the panel and the sight before you broke your heart. “Oh sweetheart, did something scare you?” The child started running for you on the bunk when Din plucked him off the ground to your waiting arms, burying his face in your shoulder. “I take that as a yes?”

“Well it looks like someone is sleeping in here with us tonight.” Your riduur checked the floor for his missing shirt before you tossed it off your foot at him.

“There is no way I could put him back in his pram, something has completely spooked him. Just for tonight Din I promise.” You cuddled the baby as close to you as possible bringing him back from his nightmare.

“Alright cyar’ika, just for tonight.” The child nestled himself in between the pair of you and Din pulled you both close to him. He failed to protect you earlier in the day but he was going to make sure your dreams were a safe place right now.

“Love you Din.”

“Love you too Mesh’la.”

Next day…

After another long day you finally get the child off to bed and find yourself in the same spot as last night. This time however, you needed something entirely different.

Din had explained to you this morning about what was going to happen in the next couple months. Paz and Shial Vizsla had invited you to stay with them while Cort was working with Din. You were excited to learn more about their culture and where you would fit into the covert. Questions took over your thoughts as you climbed the ladder to find your riduur. Still lost in your mind when Din turns to look at you, he pulls you gently to his lap and wraps you in his arms.

“Cyare? Where’s that pretty head of yours at?” Din gently rubs your arms pulling you back to reality.

“Right here my love.” Kissing his cheek you give him that half smile that tells him you're worried about something.

“You’re going to do just fine at the covert mesh’la.” Din was always good at calming your nerves and you could never understand how he did it.

“How long will you be gone?”

“A few months mesh’la. I want to make sure Cort understands how this job works.”

You sat up a little straighter when you heard him say that. “Din, I understand that completely. I just wanted to know how long to distract myself for.”

“Paz and Shial will keep you plenty busy along with their other 4 kids running all over the place.” Panic sets in very quickly when you hear how many children the Vizslas have. “Cyare we do not have to have that many children.” He brought your head back down to his shoulder and resumed rubbing “Mhi ba’juri verde means we will raise warriors, whether it’s one or many I will be a very happy man.”

“Oh Din, I love you.” A single tear fell from your watery eyes but Din was quick to react as well.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, cyare.” Soon you both fell into a peaceful rest in the pilot's chair. You understood the next few months were gonna be rough, testing every limit you have. But in the end would be so worth it to have him by your side raising warriors.

Also tagging @stubbychaos @seawhisperer

Hope you guys enjoy

#the mandalorian x reader #Din Djarin/Reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal character #din x female reader

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ineloqueent · 4 years

Note

I’m not sure who else you write for but I keep thinking about enemies to lovers with Deaky. 😉 He kind of gives off those vibes, ya know? hehe

hello lovely! sorry this took me so long. i can literally never write anything short

hope you enjoy this!

As a roadie, it was generally considered important to get along with the band.

And you did. For the most part.

On your first day, Freddie had clucked in dismay at the sight of your overalls and a washed out t-shirt, paired with scuffed Doc Martens.

“You’re not working as just anyone’s tech, darling. You’re working for Queen, and you’ve got to look the part.”

“Uh, Mr. Mercury—”

“Freddie, please.”

“Freddie,” you’d reiterated. “This is really the most practical thing to wear around here.”

“Hm. I suppose we do make more messes than we clean up,” Freddie conceded. “But surely, you can find something else to wear on show nights.”

“Um. Not really.” For most of your life, money had been tight, so fashion had not exactly been something that you could afford to prioritise.

Freddie looked horrified. “Well, we’ve simply got to do something about that, dear.”

And then he’d taken you shopping.

And paid for your new clothes, and insisted you come along on his future shopping trips.

You got along with Freddie.

A week into your employment with Queen, soundcheck had been an utter mess, because Brian’s guitar couldn’t be heard through any of the sound equipment, until you’d scaled a shaky ladder, crawled across some rickety scaffolding, and fixed a lead that had got loose and had disconnected everything else in the process.

Below, the other roadies and Brian had looked on in petrified silence. The rigging really was quite high above the stage, and you’d almost slipped and fallen more than once.

When you’d made it back down in one piece, Brian had called, “Drinks all ‘round!” and you’d been his most trusted sound tech from that day since.

You got along with Brian.

A few months ago, Roger had come running out of the dressing room screaming bloody murder about having put two much peroxide in his hair, the same mistake he’d made before a concert in Germany, in 1979. He’d been virtually hysterical when he’d realised that showtime was in less than an hour.

Around the room, laughter had been stifled, and no one had known what to do, but your cousin had once pulled a similar party trick, so you’d hurried down to the shops and bought a box of hair pigment stripper. You’d then had spent the better part of the remaining hour prior to the show working the stuff into Roger’s hair, because he was still in too much of a frenzied panic to manage it himself. You’d tried not to laugh, but it had really been very funny, how quickly he’d gone from behaving like a normal person to a petulant child.

Thankfully, Roger had laughed with you.

“I’m laughing in relief. This is definitely not in your job description. I owe you a drink, Y/N.”

You got along with Roger.

But you did not get along with John Deacon.

You didn’t know what it was, but he barely spoke to you, and when he did, it was out of necessity, and always in clipped tones.

You could only guess at what it was in you that repulsed the bassist so acutely.

Brian said he was just sore about Queen’s previous sound tech having left the job.

Roger said John was just overly finicky about his sound, and didn’t trust anyone but himself to get it right.

Freddie said that Deacy was just quiet, that you shouldn’t take his behaviour personally.

But though you tried, you couldn’t ignore it.

He was everywhere, because he was in the band, and because you worked for the band, you were everywhere that he was.

There was no avoiding him.

Even when you could avoid him, on your breaks, on the nights after the shows, on your days off, out of sight was not out of mind. You couldn’t shake the thought of how much he disliked you, because you had never given him reason to. And to be honest, you had never before encountered anyone who didn’t like you. It irked you that John was the first.

You’d started out by being as polite as humanly possible.

After that had fallen on deaf ears, you’d started to go out of your way to be kind and considerate toward him, offering to buy him a drink when you and the band and other crew headed for the local pub, to get him the missing lead at soundcheck, to run upstairs and grab the jacket he’d left but meant to wear. He always accepted, but he never softened toward you.

At first, his coldness had upset you, given how good friends you were with the rest of the band, but as time went on, you slipped into reluctant tolerance.

Tolerance didn’t mean acceptance, however, and the uneasiness that arose when John entered a room already occupied by you was palpable, felt by everyone.

He’d walk in, all quiet and composed, and his gaze would flick over you. Where his face remained expressionless, his eyes made up for it in their intensity, their green-grey tone casting shadows over you that could have eclipsed the sun in its entirety.

You always stared right back at him, daring him to ask you to leave, but he never did. He just stood there, twisting the diamond shaped ring he often wore, at once both hostile and pensive.

He’d break your gaze and go and sit with the others, and you’d exhale quietly, because you could never breathe when he stared at you like that. It felt as though a weight were pressing down on your sternum, your shoulders turned rigid, your skin prickled.

It was damn near unbearable.

You were unloading half a ton of equipment in Montreal when John walked past, uttering a quiet ‘good morning’ to a few roadies, nodding to others in greeting. You paused in shifting one of Brian’s many amps from the lorry, pushing your hair, matted with sweat, off your forehead.

You happened to look up as you caught your breath, your eyes accidentally drawn to John in the process.

He met your eyes briefly, but swept past without a word.

“D’you need help with that amp, Y/N?” Ratty, another tech, asked you, reaching out to brace the amp against his arm.

But you were distracted. “What the hell is his problem?” you muttered, still staring after John as he disappeared around the corner.

“Who?”

“Oh, come on, Ratty,” you set your hands on your hips. “John, obviously.”

Ratty let go of the amp, crossing his arms. “Why don’t you just ask him?”

“Ask him?”

“Yeah?” Ratty frowned with a look of puzzlement.

You scoffed. “Walk into the lion’s den, yeah, no thanks.”

Your retort was met with a shrug from the other roadie. “You’d never believe me if I told you, so I think you need to hear it from him.”

“Hear what from him?” you pushed. “What could he possibly have to say to me?”

“Many things, I’d say.”

“Well,” you said, hoisting the previously abandoned amp onto your hip, “I have nothing to say to him.”

With that, you took the amp and made for the stage. Vaguely, you could hear Ratty laughing as you left, and then his mate Crystal telling him to stop arsing about and actually help shift equipment.

Onstage, you stacked the amp amongst the others, careful not to set it too close to the floor where the bass would be overboosted.

“Y/N!”

You turned toward the sound and found Freddie joining you, smiling as always.

“Hello, Freddie,” you returned his smile. “What can I do for you?”

“Well for one thing, darling,” he said, clasping your hands in his, “you can come to my little after-show party tonight.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You think you’ll have the energy for that?”

Freddie waved his hand. “Of course, of course,” he assured you enthusiastically. “Never worry about my energy supply, dear, it’s practically bottomless. Just worry about what you’re wearing tonight, because it bloody better not be those overalls.”

You laughed. “I wouldn’t dream of wearing these outside of my working hours.”

“Good. I should think I’ve taught you something.”

“Not at all,” you grinned.

Freddie shook his head at you. “Anyway, bring your lost-cause self to my hotel suite at midnight.”

“Will do, Fred.”

The rest of the afternoon passed with an uneventful round of soundcheck, and in the evening, the show went smoothly. Of course, this was Queen, so smoothly did not quite do the show justice. Magnificent might have, though.

When the show had finished and a hefty amount of clean-up had been done, you made your way to Freddie’s as promised, knocking politely on his hotel room door.

Someone called, “I’ll get it!” and you rubbed your hands up and down your arms while you waited, a little on edge about going inside. John would likely be there. There would be no way of avoiding him.

And then, in one heartstopping moment before the door swung open, you recognised the voice that had called out.

But it was too late to turn around and flee in the other direction.

John opened the door, and almost as though on cue, the brilliant smile that had illuminated his eyes, his mouth, the whole of his face, faded.

He still was dressed in his concert outfit— a bright blue from head to toe that brought out his eyes in stark contrast— and his permed hair sat in a gorgeously soft bundle atop his head, looking like he’d just run his hands through it.

“Hi,” you hazarded.

“Hello,” he replied flatly, not moving from where he stood in the doorway. His standoffishness nearly made you squirm, it was so overbearing. “Oh,” he said after a moment of motionlessness, “come in.”

“Thanks,” you murmured awkwardly, as it was Freddie’s hotel room and Freddie’s party, but it seemed the only thing to say.

“May I take your coat?”

You whirled around to find John holding out a hand, his expression oddly gentle in temperament. Almost as though he were trying to be friendly.

You frowned in confusion, then realised how this must have looked and nodded in response to his question.

You didn’t expect him to help you out of it, but that he did, his fingers curling around your collar and skimming down your shoulders as you shrugged the coat off into his hands. His touch was light, and yet it made the little hairs of your arms stand on end, a shiver passing down your spine.

You turned around as he took the coat from you, but you’d misjudged the distance between the two of you and nearly collided with him.

Nearly. But maybe a collision would have been better.

You found that now, your palms resting on his chest, was definitely the worser option.

He’d breathed in sharply, and his hands hovered at your waist.

You pulled back your hands, a blush fanning over your cheeks as you stepped back, glancing away. You were mortified.

“Sorry,” you apologised quietly, and in your peripheral vision, John looked equally embarrassed, one hand resting over the back of his neck as his eyes bored into the floor.

“It’s okay,” he said, then walked past you into the next room. “Y/N’s here,” he told the others.

You followed John and found Freddie, Roger, Roger’s girlfriend Dominique, Brian, Ratty, Crystal, and a couple of other girls assembled around the radio that sat on the coffee table.

Hellos were offered to you in greeting, and Freddie grinned at you.

“Y/N! Just the person we need.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I’m not here to work, Freddie,” you joked.

“Nor is the radio, it would appear. And what’s a party without music?”

“You’re a band, play some,” said Crystal, and Roger elbowed him in the ribs.

You folded your arms as Freddie eyed you pleadingly.

“Can’t John fix it?” you asked, and John glanced over, seemingly surprised that you remembered this aptitude of his. “Haven’t you got a degree in electrical engineering, or something?”

John nodded, “I have. But all those years of studying and exams wasn’t enough, apparently. I can’t get it to work.”

You smiled bemusedly. “The legendary John Deacon can’t fix a radio?”

John crossed his arms. “You fix it then, smarty pants.”

“Look out, Y/N,” Brian laughed as oooohs were chorused by the others, and John stared you down.

He was always staring you down. But for once, he was the one daring you to say something, not the other way around. And say something you would.

“Alright, then. Hand it over,” you beckoned to Freddie, and he passed you the radio with a glance between you and John.

You picked up a screwdriver from the coffee table, then tiny pliers and electrical tape.

Moments late, when you switched on the radio, pop music blared loudly and clearly.

They all erupted into cheering and clapping, with the exception of John.

“Impressive,” he said but it sounded like sarcasm. Then he left.

He just left.

The others quieted, and you stared after John as he opened the door to Freddie’s balcony and went outside.

“Am I really so detestable that he needs to leave every place I go?” you demanded of the silent onlookers.

Freddie frowned in sympathy, Roger looked uncomfortable, and Brian winced as though you’d told him that he personally was at fault for John’s behaviour.

“I think you should talk to him,” said Ratty, for the second time that day.

You surveyed the room, feeling your anger grow thicker, creep up your skin in a flush of acrylic-paint red. “You know what,” you said, “I think I will.”

“Y/N!” Dominique called after you, and you turned back. “Be kind.”

You frowned in puzzlement. “Okay…” you said, without fully understanding what she meant.

Dominique nodded, and you made for the balcony door.

Outside, John was leaning his elbows on the railing, looking out over the twinkling skyline of Montreal. Tonight, the moon hung high above in a waxing crescent, like a shard of light bleeding into the sky from a rift in the universe where night was day.

The wind was cool, and you wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to retain some warmth.

John had yet to realise your presence; he was fully immersed in gazing out over the view, lost in thought. The lights of the city reflected in his eyes, and up above his curly head, there was a whisper of starlight. He seemed dreamlike in the way the light caught on his face, the outline of his nose and mouth rendered soft by the dimness of the balcony.

You could almost pretend that there was no hatred between you, that his presence did not turn your insides to mush, that yours did not cause him to turn away, to leave.

“John.”

He startled, pressing a hand over his heart. “You nearly gave me a heart attack,” he said, straightening up slowly.

“Sorry,” you apologised.

John only shook his head in response, and returned his eyes to the view of the city. Before he’d noticed you, you’d been content to let him stare off into the shadowy sky, but now he knew you were there, it was just plain rude of him to ignore you.

“What is your problem?”

John twitched, turning to face you. “Excuse me?”

“I asked what the hell your problem was.”

His brow furrowed. “With what?”

You couldn’t stand his confusion, the feigned innocence. It was enough to make you want to yell at him.

“Christ, John,” you said exasperatedly. “How can you ask? You hate me, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.”

John blinked. “I hate you? You’re one to talk.”

“And you never are!” you exclaimed. “You never say anything. You just— you just stand there.”

And stare at me. Like if you stared for long enough, I’d disappear. Like you want me to.

“Oh, so it’s wrong to stand still now, is it?” The easy sarcasm in his voice baited you. It was infuriating, how calm he was.

“Why are you defensive?”

“Why do you have to know everything?!” John threw up his arms, finally fighting back.

“This isn’t everything,” you protested, “this is just me asking why it is you can’t stand to be around me when I’ve never been anything but nice to you.”

John fell quiet. His voice was mild when he spoke again. “You really think I hate you?”

“Yes!” you cried.

“I don’t mean… I don’t mean to be that way.”

“Then what do you mean, John?”

“I don’t…” he drew a heavy breath, his hands going to his hair. “I don’t know. I’m just—”

You folded your arms. “Just what?”

“I’m just sick of this!”

“And this,” you muttered, “is why we can’t have a civil conversation.”

“I’m sick of you!” he shouted, before his eyes widened, like he’d said too much.

He had. You were affronted.

“Excuse me?!”

But whatever swell of anger had previously possessed him had subsided.

“You make me sick to my stomach,” he whispered, and if the wind had blown at that moment, you wouldn’t have heard him. But there was no wind, and his words hung suspended between you, curled through the air like smoke. You breathed them in, you didn’t speak.

“You’re really making me say this?”

The thoughts in your head had gone suddenly quiet. “Making you say what?” you asked slowly.

Across from you, John bit his lip. He looked at his shoes, then back up at you.

“I get fucking butterflies all the time, and god knows I don’t need them when it’s already hard enough to talk to you.”

You sucked in a breath. “Are you— are you intimidated by me?”

“Intimidated?” he laughed. “Congratulations, Y/N, you’ve made the greatest understatement of the year.”

You couldn’t believe it. John Deacon, intimidated by you.

“But… how?”

“Everything,” he said, and you noticed that his hands were shaking. “Every goddamn thing about you is so intimidating. I— I have no idea how to speak, how to move, how to breathe.”

“John,” you murmured, “what are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” he sighed shakily, “you’re rivetingly smart and you always seem to know what to say—”

“I never know what to say!”

“And there you go again,” he shook his head with a fond little smile you’d only ever seen directed at Freddie or Roger or Brian. “You’re honest. It’s so refreshing, when everyone I try to get to know just plays up their charm because I’m a bloke in a band.”

Your face twisted. “You’re saying I’m charmless?”

“No, no, not at all. You’re charming. Very charming.”

“I—” You’d opened your mouth to speak, and realised you had nothing to say.

But then he was staring at you again, for the thousandth time, only now, his eyes were soft and his head was canted slightly to one side, and his breath rose and fell in his chest shudderingly, as though he were fighting for air as much as you.

And then he leaned forward and touched his lips to yours.

Your breath caught.

Your heart rose in your chest as his hand rose to your chin, holding onto you gently, pulling you closer, kissing you in a rush of warmth. His mouth was soft and his fingers were light on your skin, and you sank into his arms, feeling the steady hum of his heart reverberate through you where your hands pressed against him.

He smelled of fresh air and soap, and for all the resolute firmness he had always treated you with, no one had ever touched you more delicately than this, with such care that you might have believed yourself a flower, blooming beneath his caress.

He paused, and when you opened your eyes, you found green-grey gazing back at you. He ran his thumb softly over your lower lip.

“You’ve charmed me,” John whispered, and his smile could have rivaled the sun.

#tina’s writing #john deacon #john deacon x reader #fic #anon #request

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