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#i love when a single guy happens and I spend hours ripping my hair out over the ripple effects
embraceyourdestiny · 2 years
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I love prequel kh stuff because the entire series can truly be recontextualized by a single person and/or event and so far that’s happened five times and is about to happen a sixth with missing link
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ladykailitha · 4 months
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The Magic of Christmas Part 1/8
Here it is, guys! My first Christmas steddie story. It was a blast to write even though sometimes it was struggle to get words down being so close to the holidays.
Summary: Steve doesn't play D&D, not really. But he's been a fan of Eddie Munson's artwork for Wizards of the Coast for years. So after he inherits the business from his dad, he decides the best use of all his dad's money is spend it on a five piece painting for the Party of their characters fighting a purple dragon. So he hires Eddie to do the work, but because it's so labor intensive, Steve offers to pay all of Eddie's bills plus any expenses he has for the paintings. How is Eddie to say no to that, so he doesn't try. He also doesn't try not falling in love with Steve. Will Steve reject him or will Eddie get a little magic for Christmas?
Words: 17012 CW: none Rating: Teen for swearing mostly Relationships: Steddie, background Buckingham, Jancy, Eden/Argyle, Dustin/Suzie, Lumax, and a surprise later in the story. Mike and El aren't dating in this, but neither is Mike and Will. They're single.
Also, Steve comes off as mildly autistic in this. He's based on a lot of my own experiences, so I hope this doesn't scare you off.
Essentially this is Eddie falls first, Steve falls harder over the course of six months. June and July aren't strictly mentioned, but you know it's happening during those two months.
***
Eddie walked into the high rise office building feeling a little out of place. All right, maybe a lot of place, if he was being honest with himself.
Here he was in a faded leather jacket and ripped black jeans in an actual fucking glass elevator to the top floor.
The doors opened up to warm outer office. It was dark woods and deep reds and golds. He had been expecting it to look like the rest of the building. He skipped forward to the woman at the desk a little unsure if he was in the right place.
“Hey, um...” he began, tilting his head. “I think I might be in the wrong place. But I’m Eddie Munson and I have a two o’clock appointment with Steve Harrington?”
She blinked up at him in shock. “This is Steve Harrington’s office, let me look at the schedule. I vaguely remember him making sure I didn’t schedule anything for this time.”
Eddie handed her the card that had Steve’s name on the front and the date and time on the back. She took it from him and nodded. He bit his lip nervously as she fiddled with something on her computer.
“All right,” she said, “I do see that he has an hour of time blocked off, but let me call him.”
Eddie nodded.
“Steve,” she said into the receiver. “I have an Eddie Munson here for you.”
“He’s here?” Eddie could hear the excitement in the person’s voice. “Send him in!”
She smiled. “Will do.” She hung up the phone. “Looks you’re good to go.”
Eddie smiled back. “Thanks.” He leaned over the desk for a moment. “I’m guessing you don’t know what this is about anymore than I do.”
She shook his head. “Nope. But he sounds excited to see you so you should really do that.”
He nodded back and skipped over to the door where it swung open as he reached it. He turned back to her. “Neat trick.”
She grinned back.
Eddie walked through the door and found that the inner office was very much the same as the outer one. All warm and cozy. And...well. Friendly.
Behind the desk leaping to his feet to greet him was the most gorgeous human Eddie had ever laid eyes on. He had floppy dark golden hair with hazel eyes behind neat glasses. His smile was easy and infectious.
“Eddie!” the Greek Adonis in a smartly tailored suit said brightly, sticking his hand out to him. “I’m so glad you came. When I spoke to your agent I got the impression you don’t usually do commissions.”
He half shrugged taking the outstretched hand and shaking it. “It’s been a slow year and I don’t taking the odd commission when it intrigues me.”
Steve blushed. “I intrigued the great Eddie Munson, I’m flattered.”
Eddie raised both eyebrows. “I didn’t realize you were a fan of my work.”
Steve nodded eagerly. “Oh hell yeah. I managed to get a picture of that lovely mural you did to cover the gang signs in the neighborhood before the cops destroyed it.”
Eddie blinked. Well fuck. He didn’t realize anyone had known that was him.
“You didn’t tell the cops it was me, did you?”
Steve laughed, clear and bright. He sat down and gestured for Eddie to do the same. “Rule number one. Don’t tell cops shit.”
Eddie sat down with a thud. “That’s good to know.”
Steve grinned wickedly at him and pulled out a picture of the mural from his desk drawer. He handed it to Eddie for him to look at.
“Usually it’s on my desk,” Steve said. “But I didn’t want to come across as too much of a fan boy right away.”
Eddie ran his fingers over the glass. It was of a pack of wolves howling at the moon rising over a tall mountain range.
“It’s nice to see that it’ll be remembered in some small way,” he murmured.
“I’ve got an photographer friend who can make a copy for you if you’d like,” Steve said softly.
Eddie’s head shot up. “You’d do that?”
This time it was Steve that gave a little half shrug. “I mean I can tell it was important to you so...”
He grinned. “Thanks, man. So what’s this commission you’re wanting me to do?”
Steve blushed again. “Do you still do illustrations for Wizard of the Coast?”
Eddie’s jaw dropped. That’s where Steve knew his art from, fucking D&D? This day couldn’t get any weirder.
He cleared his throat. “Like, sometimes. Right now I’m not happy with them for trying to take the game away from little homebrew gamers like me and my friends. But yeah, beggars can’t be choosers.”
Steve nodded. “God, I wish we could go back to the days were stupid rich people would hire poor artists to paint for them for a year or whatever. Free paint, free room and board.”
“Lack of freedom of expression though,” Eddie laughed.
Steve laughed with him. “Not if you’re sleeping with the mistress of the house.”
Eddie laughed harder. “Sorry, I’d be more likely to be sleeping with the master than the mistress.”
Steve smiled with a little shrug. “I’d probably end up doing both if they were hot enough.”
Eddie’s eyebrows went up. All right, noted. “Though I suppose in the scenario you’d be the master, so you’d be sleeping with the artist and the mistress.”
Steve grinned. “Well that’s certainly true.”
Eddie needed to get this meeting to move on before he leapt over the desk to fuck this gorgeous man senseless. “You want to be paint something in my D&D style?”
Steve lit up and Eddie had bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying something stupid like how hot he found that look on Steve’s face.
“Yeah, I have these...” he said, “well they aren’t kids anymore. But they were when I first met them. They’re really big into D&D. In fact Dustin, the one I’m closest to is the one that got me into your art. They were so well done in the books and then found out you had a website and well...” he blushed. “I really liked the fantasy stuff.”
Eddie smirked. He knew exactly what Steve was talking about. There was a section on his website where you had to put in your credit card information to even view it. Did he know that kids stole their parents’ credit cards to view that part of his site? Sure. But at least it made sure most of the time that the viewer was over the age of eighteen.
There was more to fantasy then elves or dragons. Eddie smiled.
“Did you now?”
Steve blushed deeper. “Not that I want you to do that for this!” he said waving his hands. “They maybe adults now, I’m not that insane! But they have these characters that they’ve had since they were twelve and I was hoping you could paint them fighting a dragon. Especially a purple dragon. Because they are so cool.”
Eddie ran his tongue over his teeth thoughtfully. “What were you thinking in terms of size?”
Steve pulled out another picture and slid it over to Eddie. Eddie picked it up and looked at it. It was one of those wall paintings that were split into separate pieces but if put together it would form a cohesive picture.
“I was thinking 10x18 for the side pieces and 18x24 for the middle piece which would have the dragon,” Steve explained.
“And each of the side pieces would have a different character?”
Steve nodded. “I was wanting it by Christmas, would that give you enough time to do it?”
Eddie sat back and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I’m mean, I guess. A month for each of the smaller ones and two months for the larger piece. It’s doable. If it’s the only thing I work on for the next six months. So I would require at least half the payment up front.”
Steve nodded and pulled out a piece of paper from a leather folio on his desk and handed it over to him.
Eddie started reading and was about half way down when he realized it was a contract. He usually had his own contract to give clients, especially for projects this big. But looking over Steve’s contract, not only was it better worded, it was a lot better offer for Eddie.
“Do you mind if I take this and show my agent before sign?” he asked.
Steve smiled. “No, of course not. Be my guest. In fact, I insist.”
Eddie relaxed. “Thanks!”
Steve ducked his head bashfully. “I really hope you’ll do it. You’re my favorite artist. Dusty’s too.”
Hoo-boy did Eddie know that look. It was the look of someone who was used to being shut down for their interests because they got too excited talking about it.
It was starting to look like regardless of what Chrissy thought about contract, he was going to do it. Because fuck, no one should have to feel like they were too much.
He stood up and shook his hand. “Is the end of the week okay?”
Steve’s head jerked up in shock. “What?”
“For the contract?” Eddie said, holding up the piece of paper.
“Oh!” Steve murmured. “Yeah. That’ll be a fine.”
Eddie got up and shook Steve’s hand. He walked to the door, but paused at the doorway. He turned back and tilted his head down and around. “You don’t have to limit yourself with me, okay? You can be yourself with me.”
Steve’s jaw dropped. “What? I don’t know what you mean...”
“The look on your face when you were talking about me being your favorite artist,” Eddie explained. “It’s something I see all the time with my friends and even myself. You close yourself off because you think you’re going to be shut down and told to shut up or at the very least dial it back. And I’m saying you don’t have to. Not with me.”
Steve blushed and ducked his head again. “You just want to me flatter the hell out of you.”
Eddie laughed. “I won’t deny that flattering works on me. But I mean it, okay? Don’t limit yourself. The people that mind don’t matter and those that matter won’t mind.”
Steve smiled. “Dr. Seuss. I’ll try to remember that.”
“See that you do,” Eddie said with a laugh. He tapped his hand on the door frame and then walked away.
He was almost to the elevator when the secretary said, “I heard what you said just now. About him not needing to hold back with you. Thank you.”
Eddie paused in his step. He whirled around and then skipped up to the desk. “You don’t need to thank me for that. He deserves to gush about the things he loves.”
“His parents would shut him up every time he would gush about anything,” she said. “Even sports. Which you would think would be the one thing that a boy should gush about, but nope.”
Eddie nodded. “Bastards.” He cocked his head to the side. “You are more than just his secretary aren’t you?”
She laughed. “Best friend and soulmate, Robin Buckley.” She stuck out her hand.
Eddie shook it with a wide smile. “Please to meet you. I’m guessing you’re president of the Steve Harrington Appreciation Society. Where can one sign up?”
Robin laughed. “Signing that contract will do the job I think.” She jutted her chin up at the paper in his hand.
He shrugged. “I got have my agent look at it before I sign anything. She’d murder me otherwise.”
“Fair.”
“See you around, Birdie,” Eddie said with a salute.
She frowned. “Birdie?”
He made a bird with his hands or at least tried with the contract in his hand. “Robin. Bird. Birdie.”
“Oh god,” she sighed. “You’re one of those.”
Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Yup!” He skipped into elevator and pressed the button to the ground floor. He waved as the elevator lowered him down.
***
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child
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rin-itoshi · 3 years
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mc’s departure | obey me
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summary: how the brothers would react to MC returning to the human world after a year in the devildom
contains: fluff , angst , ?!!!!&;@;&:idk
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♯ LUCIFER
he’s the one to see you off, reminding you of the many things he had taught you so that you’d never forget.
his pride is much too large to admit that he will miss you to death and that he loves you dearly.
after you’re gone, he’s gone for hours at a time, holed up in his room with as much as work as he can take on.
he overworks himself with the intention of getting rid of the heavy emotion on his heart.
everything reminds you of him, even the paper clip on his desk that you had once found under his bed.
he gets easily irritable, feeling rather empty now that you’ve gone and left him alone in this now quiet house.
barely leaves his room, only works.
never cries but gets quite emotional when he finds a belonging you left behind.
♯ MAMMON
he cried every single night up until your departure but never showed you that side of him once
after you left, he cried non-stop, not caring if he looked like a cry baby in front of his brother’s who watched him with pitiful eyes.
once his eyes dried up, he soon never returned home as he partied all day and night.
he forced himself to attend parties after parties in order to forget about you.
it never works because everything reminds him of you.
sometimes he sits in his car and just stares into space, wondering what you’re doing now that you’re back on earth.
literally cannot stand the mention of you or your name or he may break down.
pretends to be okay but can’t go a day without getting upset about your absence.
money soon becomes pointless when he realizes no amount of cash will bring you back to the house of lamentation.
♯ LEVIATHAN
curled up in his bath tub and cried himself to sleep.
stopped leaving his room in general, continuously playing games all day and night.
couldn’t look at his ruri-chan figures because they somehow reminded him of you and how much you used to admire them with him.
every inch of his room has your touch on it and it makes his heart ache painfully.
struggles to attend online school but manages to make it through the day by zoning out in class.
claims he doesn’t care about a normie like you but genuinely misses you
sends you messages, forgetting you can no longer contact him without your D.D.D
writes about how much he misses you on his blog fully aware you’ll never see it.
♯ SATAN
reading. that’s all he does.
he hides in his room and reads every single book he has stacked up along his room, even rereading them if he finished everything.
uses books to get his mind off of you—or more so the lack of you.
will sometimes get excited about a stray cat he sees but stops himself when he realizes he can’t tell you because you aren’t here.
gets angry. a lot.
the smallest things set him off and he can longer feign a smile when he hears your name or anything related to you.
he misses you so much that he wants to tear out his hair and rip apart all these book page by page.
his room is in shambles and he can’t seem to think straight anymore.
♯ ASMODEUS
loses his interest in everything.
forgets his skin care routine and lets himself go without caring about it.
forces himself to go to parties and tries to sleep with someone to feel better but when it fails, he stops sleeping around in general.
like mammon, he doesn’t come home often to avoid seeing the house he had lived in with you happily.
cannot forget about you no matter what he does, and that frustrates him the most.
wishes he had done something to stop you or at least slept beside you one last time.
neglects himself for a while.
♯ BEELZEBUB
poor bby isn’t hungry for once.
can’t seem to eat now that you’re not sitting beside him, giggling about something he had said.
spends a lot of his time doing weight training and exercising to get his mind off of you.
misses all the meals you used to make on the nights you were in charge of cooking.
sometimes forgets you’re not around whenever he’s about to go downstairs to eat dinner.
clings to belphie in hopes to fill the gap in his heart.
accidentally broke down your room door in an angry fit when your absence finally set in.
♯ BELPHEGOR
either he sleeps even more or somehow gets less sleep.
no matter what, he feels sluggish and blank.
locks himself in the attic, almost as if he was never released in the first place.
even though he hated humans, your absence affected him the most after he had grown to love you as a human.
nearly went demon mode on diavolo when he found out that you were being sent back to the human world.
partially wishes he never met you but cherishes his memories with you too much to ever wish for that wholeheartedly.
sleeps in your bed often to hold onto your lingering scent that was fading quickly.
complains to beel that you were nothing but a stupid human who turns their backs on demons like them, but he never means anything he says.
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“Why is it so quiet in here?” Diavolo asks as he opens the front door of the House of Lamentation with Barbatos at his side. The man’s golden eyes scanned the entry hall, noticing how it was so eerily dark and quiet that it almost felt like something out of a horror movie. It felt like no one had lived here in over two thousand years. “Hello?”
Upon receiving message from Diavolo, everyone had exited their rooms for the first time in a while, looking like they were dragged through the mud. The state they were in made Diavolo jump with surprise, shocked to find that even Lucifer looked like he was ill. “What happened to you guys?!”
“What is it that you need, Lord Diavolo?” Lucifer asked as he ran a hand through his hair to compose himself a bit in front of the red haired man. “If is nothing important, may I kindly ask you to leave and return another time?”
Diavolo sighed, shaking his head lightly as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know what’s up with you guys, but I brought everyone’s favorite person along with me so sing your praises now!”
Mammon huffed, “If ya’ talking about that butler of yours, ain’t nobody care right now! We got bigger things to worry about!”
Barbatos simply smiled, taking no offense to the sly insult thrown his way.
Diavolo cocked a brow in confusion. “What? Of course not! It’s-“
The person stepped out from behind Diavolo, catching the attention of every single male in the room. The seven brother’s choked, staring at the one person they had longed for these past few days.
“[y/n]!” They shouted in unison, practically flying down the stairs to get to you. Mammon was the first to reach you, wrapping his arms around your entire body as he tackled you to the floor. The other brother’s climbed on top of you two, hugging you so tightly that you feared this would be where you’d die. “You’re back!”
Diavolo chuckled boisterously. “This is amusing! You lot are acting like you didn’t know they’d return today!” His laugh came to an abrupt stop when he saw the flat expressions coming from each and every brother. “Oh- Did I not inform you?”
“Obviously you didn’t.” Belphegor scoffed with a roll of the eyes, burying his face in the crook of your neck to inhale your scent. “[y/n]...”
“Ya can’t ever leave again! I’ll seriously get angry at ya if this happens again! Ya either go to the human world with me or ya don’t go at all!” Mammon snapped, cupping your cheeks while getting dangerously close to your face to yell at you.
“I’ll severely punish you if you ever leave this manor without giving me a heads up as to where you’re off to. You’re not just an exchange student anymore. You’re special.” Lucifer explained, a panicked glint in his tired eyes as he reached out to pat your head gently with his gloved hand.
Satan sighed, pressing his forehead against your back. “If you leave again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control my emotions, so don’t leave.”
The avatar of lust whined loudly, “my beautiful self can’t handle a life without you! Don’t ever go anywhere without me again!” He clutched onto her waist tightly.
“Don’t... Don’t go anywhere.” Leviathan said with a sad frown on his lips as he held your hand, bringing it up to rest against his cheek. “It’s so empty without you.”
“Let’s eat dinner together, [y/n].” Beel suggested, his voice full of emotions as he drooled at the thought of dinner with you.
A million emotions ran through your veins as you sat there, basking in the warmth of their touch. It was overwhelming to receive so much love all at once but it was amazing.
A smile slowly crept onto your lips as you leaned into their touch, enjoying the way they clung to you as if you’d disappear any moment now. “I missed you guys, too.”
“What a lovely reunion!” Diavolo exclaimed happily, snapping a view blurry photos on his D.D.D to send to the group chat later.
After the heartfelt moment, they quickly disappeared upstairs to fix up their appearance before rushing downstairs to the kitchen where you stood. They clung to you like bugs to a light, hounding you about your sudden departure, only to find out that you had gone up there with Diavolo and Barbatos to help the man experience human world activities he had never gotten to try before. Diavolo was sure he had told them that but seeing as they were genuinely distressed, he assumed the message never reached.
Even though they were beyond pissed with Diavolo and his carelessness, they were just glad you were back. Them being here with you really was their idea of a perfect life.
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a/n: UH YEA K GOODNIGHT
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levisblackbabe · 3 years
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Headcanons of Aot boys with a black gf
Characters: Eren Jeager , Armin Arlert, Levi Ackerman, Connie Springer and Jean Kirstein x fem black reader (separate)
Genre: Mostly fluff, slight angst, deffo crack, (everyone is +18)
Warnings: Language, a bit toxic, slightly suggestive
Wc: 1500+ (Each character is about 300-400 words)
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Eren Jeager (The lowkey Toxic one)
· Lowkey scared of y/n because she reminds him of Levi when she is angry, and he knows she will beat his ass if necessary
· Started out as friends but he has always liked y/n
· He initially asked you out as a dare and you only found out after 6 weeks where you broke up 😐
· This legit started the cycle of breaking and getting back together (he never cheated though just a lil bit toxic)
· He is very possessive and controlling which also lead to your break ups
· Even though you have your ups and down he is mostly a good boyfriend
· He plays basketball so every time he is practising on his own, he asks you to be there for rebounds (in reality he just wants you near him baso 24/7)
· Loves your smell so he steals those items might be your lotion, hair products or perfume
· Loves your natural hair and just touches it without permission after a couple times you just gave up telling him off
· He was confused on why you changed your hair so often
· When you guys first started dating you came with box braids rather then your usual bun and he deadass thought you were somebody else 💀he was so confused on why this stranger was touching him up (this mf loyal cuz he was ready to punch you)
· He was soooo scared of meeting your parents (had to call Armin to ask for advice)
· Your family at first didn’t like him cuz of the constant breaking up but they grew to tolerate him (however your older brother doesn’t)
· Loves taking pictures of you during facetime, golden hour or whenever and saves them in a folder (simp)
· Loves your cooking soo much that he goes collect tubber ware of food worth a week and stocks up his fridge
· He loves when you speak to him in another language so he pisses you off so you can cuss him out in your native tongue
· He barely calls your name its either babe or some cringey name like bubbs or something (however if you hear your full name leave his month rip)
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Armin Artlet (The simp)
· SHY BAE that’s it
· He was your English tutor and has always had a crush on you
· He wanted to ask you out on a date, but he shy and thought you won’t like white boys
· You asked him instead cuz you fell for his ocean blue eyes (I mean who wouldn’t)
· In the beginning you had to take the initiative a lot cuz he wanted to respect your boundaries but after a while he grew comfortable and took the lead
· He LOVES your natural hair and knows your wash day schedule, so he always offers to help anyway possible
· He was absolutely scared of meeting your family cuz once again he white 😐 however everyone loved him
· He most definitely invited to the family reunion
· Your aunts adore him and they always talking about you as a baby to him
· He always doing late night ft calls with you, and he WON’T hang up cuz he wants to see your face when you wake up
· Armin is a giver, so he always offers to buy thigs for your and just buy gifts at least once a week
· He also loves cooking for and with you (once you had a cooking competition and technically, he is a better cook, but he let you win)
· He likes sending random pictures of things you like and remind him of you
· He happily takes pictures of you (photographer Armin)
· You guys have a pet turtle called Mickey 🐢
· His nicknames for you are beautiful, pretty and stuff like that
· Just overall fluff
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Levi Ackerman (the co-worker)
· You guys have been co-workers for 2 years actually
· You thought he hated you but in reality, he does he just acts stingy towards cuz he is Levi 😐 (some serious enemies to lovers vibe)
· He didn’t confess and never would have but due to a drunken Hange letting it slip during a hang out with your co-workers you found out
· He deadass ignored you for a week like if he saw you, he would turn into Houdini and disappear
· However, you once caught him distracted and forced him to talk to you
· Reluctantly so he spoke the truth and asked you out (thought he seemed angry about it)
· Now you guys have happily been dating
· Everyone in your office finds you lucky cuz Levi is the finest man in the office heck the world (if he was real, I would leave my bf 😭)
· He actually has a 5-year-old daughter (DILF! Levi) and told you why he never said anything about his feeling was because you know single dad and shiz
· After 6 weeks you met his babygirl and she is the cutest she loves you considering she never had much of a mother figure in her life
· His daughter is mixed so he knows how to deal with natural hair thanks to YouTube, so he sometimes helps with yours (such a good dad)
· But now that you are here you offer to do any protective styles and give him tips
· Levi isn’t very open, but he expresses his love to you with physical touch, acts of service or gifts
· However, he speaks very softly to his daughter he seems different
· Due to his love language being touch he loves petting your hair (only when you have protective styles) and putting his head on it ( he is tall in my head okay)
· He loves having you in close proximity to you and just somehow touching you
· Him and your dad really hit it off because they both have daughters
· Your aunts are lowkey infatuated with him
· Loves making breakfast for you but due to your busy schedule he just buys your coffee in the morning
· He will never tell you, but he has trouble falling asleep but when you sleepover he actually has a full nights rest (he has silk sheets just for you)
· He might seem closed off, but you know he loves you due to the little things
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Connie Springer (the bestfriend)
a/n I just want to say Connie will be of Hispanic heritage for the sake of this headcanon also because all the fanfics I read about him he is portrayed as Hispanic I just write him like this however this isn’t to offend anyone or play onto stereotypes.
· You guys have been besties since freshman year high school
· You hooked up freshman year of college and been dating ever since
· Nothing really changed in your dynamic other than the fact yall kiss and do the deed
· Like you legit call each other insults though Connie likes calling slime and bubbs
· You jokingly calling each other baby mama and baby daddy (manifesting kids but whatever)
· Speaking of kids, you have plushies that you call kids and rotate them around (they are from your arcade date)
· Loves being on call with you when he is playing because it helps calm him down and not break his tv (anger issues much)
· HYPEMAN if you are looking fine asf he will hype you up so much and offer to take pictures for the gram
· You have a joint TikTok account where you reaching 10k and just do dumb couple stuff its cringey but cute (Same goes for your joint spam account where you guys just do silly things together)
· He always asks to do your hair which you repetitively deny keeping in mind last time you let him he nearly ripped off half your scalp
· Late nights drives happen a lot so you can vent and have a heart to heart under the stars, you guys also just vibe to the music and might spend hours in silence looking at the city lights and dancing
· If you fall asleep on him or in the drive back he becomes really cute and soft and just says you are beautiful and that he loves you in Spanish (ugh my heart)
· He only speaks Spanish when he wants to be cute and knows you won’t understand
· Your family have always liked him so when you guys started dating everyone was like ‘FINALLY’ (same with his family)
· Some type of kid’s movie marathon once a month cuz being a child is great
· Its just overall jokes
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Jean Kirstein (Mr Doesn’t Give Up)
· Kept asking you out for a year until you gave in, he was so excited he kissed you straightaway
· He was so nervous in your first date, but he was a gentleman opening doors etc (whoever said chivalry was dead 🤨)
· Nearly said I love you on the first date considering he has liked you for a year, but he held it in
· However, he did get a kiss goodnight on the cheek (he was grinning like a fool)
· Loves the fact that you change your hair so much and so often that he happily gives recommendations and offers to help you out
· He is the overprotective type of boyfriend so he was reluctant on you meeting his friends especially Eren, but you reassured him that you wouldn’t be swayed (still icky about you hanging with Eren though)
· He adores playing pc games with you and you have a little family in Sims4 which is cute
· He now has a skincare routine because you introduced him to it (he said he didn’t need one cuz he has a ‘handsome face’ but he secretly started one lol
· He also steals your body lotion and legit smells like you (smh)
· His wrist always has a silk crunchie in case you need it, and, in his car, he has a bag with essentials for you such as pads, edge control, etc
· He calls you cute pet names but also the occasional insults as a joke
· He is lowkey rich, so he happily spoils you to fancy dinners and more
· He also likes going back to the basics so picnic dates in the spring and summer are common he says he cooks them but in reality, it’s his mum
· Your mum absolutely adores him cuz he is a ‘charmer’
· He likes facetiming you when he is working out so he can show up, but you just ignore him and continue doing what you are doing
· Like Eren he has a folder filled of mugs of you
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emerald-chaos · 3 years
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Touchdown
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*gif not mine, credit goes to the owner*
I just want to take a moment to say thank you for the love on my last fic! It made my lil ole heart swell to see that peopled enjoyed it enough to leave a like or reblog.
This is just something special I had in my arsenal that I wrote for a friend a few months ago. I touched it up a bit and added a few things here and there. It all started when we were talking about how much we loved when Chris' accent got heavier after he'd been drinking, and well, I couldn't help myself lol. I hope you enjoy the fluff! xoxo
I apologize for any grammatical errors, I tried to proof-read but am also a little exhausted lol.
Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader
Word Count: 2844
Warnings: I don't think there's anyway? Mentions of being drunk/drinking alcohol, cursing, and illusions to sexy times, but that's about it.
You hadn’t noticed how furiously your knee was bouncing up and down until the person sitting next to you on the subway got up to move seats once the train squealed to a stop. You sighed and ran your hands down the front of your thighs. Normally being a little late didn’t bother you as much, but tonight you were meeting him.
You flipped your wrist over to check your watch. 8:30pm. In all honesty, it had probably been only thirty seconds later than when you checked it the last time. Another deep sigh escaped from your lips as you started to become hyper aware of the train remaining still at the current stop. What could possibly be taking so long? You knew he wouldn’t care if you were running late, but the time the two of you had together already felt so minuscule. You wanted to capitalize on every second you could.
The train began moving again and you slumped back into your seat, feeling only a small amount of relief. It was becoming painfully apparent that you needed to try and relax. You could feel the sweat building up on your body, the sting on your palms from where your fingernails were pressing in with a vengeance moments ago, and you could hear your heart thumping in your ears. Your hand dug around in your purse for a few moments before finding the small case you were looking for. Opening it, you slipped your headphones into your ears and let your head rest on the window behind you as music intertwined with your thoughts.
Once upon a time, you made fun of people who decided to go to grad school. What kind of a clown would spend thousands of MORE dollars and go BACK to school?? Not to mention the stress of the assignments, the due dates - it was not for you...or so you thought.
Now here you are, a regular booboo the fool.
NYU’s graduate program for design and merchandising wasn’t necessarily part of your 5-year plan, but when the opportunity landed in front of you it was difficult to pass up. NYU was a school you had only dreamt of attending back in high school. When you were a senior in high school you were able to tour the campus and fell in love immediately. Hours upon hours were spent researching grants, scholarships, and all sorts of ways to try to make it happen. However, the dream ended as most teenage dreams do - crushed. There was no way you or your parents could afford the loans that it would surely wrack up to attend the out of state university, and there was no way you could ask your parents take on that kind of debt just so you could go to college. UMass was the way to go - close to home and familiar. Not to mention you were able to obtain several scholarships and grants that helped bring down the cost tremendously. Little did you know, boring ole UMass would bring you one of the most important things in your life.
Applying for graduate school wasn’t an easy decision and one you couldn’t really take all the credit for. A smile crept across your face as you reminisced on the night you nervously brought up the idea to your long-term boyfriend.
“I think you should do it,”
“I know, right?” you scoffed, “it’s insane, why would I do something so stup...wait, what? You do?”
“Of course I do. This is something you love and that you’re passionate about. Do you know how many hours of my life were spent listening to you ramble about NYU?” he questioned with a grin.
“It will open up so many doors for you. We can make things work,” a chuckle escaped from those beautiful lips as he saw your dumbfounded expression. He wrapped his fingers around your waist and pulled you close, “What? Did you expect me to forbid it? Cmon, baby, what kind of guy do you take me for?”
You didn’t have a lot of wins in your life, but you did have Chris.
When you got accepted, he took off a week from work to drive you 3 and a half hours south to help get you settled and moved into your temporary new home. The two of you ate a disgusting amount of pizza, moved a ridiculous amount of heavy furniture in the middle of a summer heat wave, and enjoyed each other’s company before the long-distance thing would set in. Chris spent that week encouraging you every step of the way, talking you off the ledge when you were convinced you had made the wrong decision, and made sure to help you christen every possible surface of your new place in the most deliciously sinful way.
You bit your lip slightly at the thought and a warm feeling spread across your face. Chris was one of the most incredible people you had met in this world. Kind, caring, funny, intelligent, passionate, and god was he sexy. The connection the two of you had was scary at first, but now you just couldn’t imagine spending your life with anyone else.
The robotic voice came over the loud-speaker in the subway car and you were rudely ripped back to reality as it pulled into your stop. You hurriedly scooped up your bag and jogged off the train.
It had been a promise between the two of you when you moved that there would be equal effort when it came to visiting and keeping in contact while having good, open communication. Long distance was hard but the two of you were determined to make it work. FaceTime calls, hours upon hours of texting, and even as far as writing the occasional letter back and forth (because your boyfriend was a hopeless romantic and you loved it so much). This weekend was your turn to come home to visit, and of course your last class had to go longer than anticipated. Fuckin’ Tiffany and her stupid ass questions.
The muscles of your calves burned as you kept up your hurried pace, weaving through the crowds of people gathered on sidewalks outside of various clubs and restaurants. It was a weekend night and the Patriots were playing, which meant the city was more alive than usual. New York was it's own beast, but it was a different type of hustle and bustle. Nights like these made your heart ache for home - the thick Massachusetts accents, the rowdy voices of bar patrons arguing about the game, the hugs shared between family members as they parted after dinner, and the faint smell of nicotine and alcohol that hung in the air.
As the neon sign that hung in the pub window came in to view you felt your heart dip down into your stomach. Last weekend’s visit had to be cancelled due to some stuff coming up with Chris’ work and a surprise assignment for you, so you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in 2 weeks. With a deep breath you swung open the door and scanned the crowd for him. He told you that he would be there promptly at 7:15pm for pregame shenanigans with his friends - which actually translated to how many pitchers of beer could they suck down before kick off.
“Aw, come ON! That is such a bullshit call!”
You heard him before you saw him. Of course. A grin spread across your lips as you shook your head. The thought of leaving to avoid secondhand embarrassment crossed your mind briefly before you picked up your feet and made your way through the crowd toward the sound. A room full of people from New England and you would still recognize that voice anywhere.
Everyone else seemed to fade away as you saw the outline of the tall, dark haired man standing at the bar. The slight freckles that spattered the back of his neck, the Brady jersey that he spent WAY too much money customizing, and the signature backward ball cap were ingrained in your subconscious memory. Not to mention if you didn’t recognize his outline or his voice, you would definitely recognize that ass anywhere.
You loved how passionate he got about sports and the way his Boston accent seemed to get thicker with each beer he consumed. Growing up in the area, you wouldn't think the accent would send a tingle down your spine the way it does, but it was different - it was Chris. Not to mention the sparkle in his eye when he would watch his favorite team or the way he would get in to arguments whenever someone tried to say something negative about them. You loved your big, handsome, over-sized toddler man so damn much.
A light tap on his shoulder made him whip around, his slightly opened mouth from his interrupted conversation curved upwards into a wicked grin as he made the connection of who was finally standing in front of him.
“Hey there, handsome. I don’t see a ring on your finger. You single?” You grinned, feeling your entire body fill with warmth as Chris leaned back and grabbed his chest as he erupted in laughter.
“Nah, nah, nah, unfortunately for you I am taken” he responded as he snaked his arms around your waist, sliding his hands into your back pockets as he pulled you into his figure.
“That is too bad,” you tsk'd, running a finger down his toned bicep, “she’s one lucky girl.”
“I think I’m the lucky one,” he grinned. He leaned down to meet your lips in a kiss. You sighed into it, allowing your body to mold itself so perfectly into his. The taste of beer on his lips and the smell of his cologne was intoxicating - it was home. You immediately allowed him entrance as you felt his tongue glide along your bottom lip. Your body felt small in his strong grip and you couldn’t help but laugh a bit as he gave your ass a firm squeeze. Normally, this type of bold, public display of affection would make you cringe away but at this point you were lost in Chris that you had absolutely no shame. Each time the two of you embraced had always felt like the first. Your heart still fluttered and your knees still got weak, like you were a 16 year old being kissed for the first time.
In the middle of your reunion moment, however, something happened in the game that made the entire bar erupt in boo’s and curses. Chris lifted his lips from yours to look over his shoulder and inspect what he had missed. You laughed and shook your head as you pushed him back towards his friends and took a seat in the bar stool he had been standing behind initially. His large hands found a natural place on your shoulders. While his eyes remained glued on the TV he began applying a moderate amount of pressure to your neck and shoulders. You didn’t realize how much your body craved that touch, his touch, until you immediately melted back into him.
The bartender slid a beer in front of you with a wink and you mouthed your thanks. You felt a twinge in your heart as you looked around, taking in the atmosphere of the bar. This was a typical weekend night for the two of you whenever you were living together. Football, drinks, pub food, and friends. If it wasn’t this pub it was your living room, just a couple blocks away. You didn’t even mind that it was your first night back and you weren’t alone, spending it immediately wrapped up in your satin sheets. The atmosphere, the people - it was so warm and familiar that you really wouldn’t rather be doing anything else. Plus, being wrapped up together in the sheets was sure to follow.
“I missed you,” hummed a pair of lips as they placed a kiss on the shell of your ear. A shiver shot down your spine at the sensation of his warm breath fanning over your neck. You reached up a hand and connected it to the nape of his neck.
“I missed you too,” you replied, turning your head to plant a kiss on his stubbled cheek.
His arms changed position as he wrapped them in front of your shoulders and crossed them, resting his chin on the top of your head. Your hand absentmindedly rubbed his forearms as you nursed your beer and placed your focus onto the game for the first time tonight.
The laughter seemed to escape from your chest naturally and effortlessly the entire night, as it always had a habit of doing when Chris was around. The camaraderie between him and his buddies during a game was something you’d grown to enjoy over the years. Chris’ competitive nature and the way his jaw clenched when something wasn’t going the way he wanted was always kinda...hot. All of his friends were huge assholes, but in the best way. It was always entertaining to hear them jab at each other and do what they could to rile someone up. They were the life of every party you had ever attended and they had a way of making a boring night a lot more interesting.
Thankfully (for the integrity of the bar) the Pats won the game with a surprise touchdown in the last 30 seconds of the game. Chris, being the guy he is, bought a final round for his friends and a nearby group they had been going back and forth with all night. You couldn’t help but laugh as he drunkenly leaned across the counter and slurred his order to the bartender.
“I need a round for m’friends and for these assholes over here who thought Tom Brady was anything but a winner!” the group started yelling in protest and he simply waved them off and started sliding beers down the bar.
The group eventually moved to a bigger round top so everyone could shoot the shit and banter about the outcome of the game. You were tucked into Chris’ side, hands intertwined as he was passionately discussing the importance of Brady’s legacy with a stranger who made the mistake of stopping to talk to him. Your eyes followed the motion of your thumb as it traced small circles onto the back of his. Your other hand under your chin, holding up the weight of your head as your exhaustion started to catch up with you. Chris, although slightly drunk, picked up on your body language and raised your hand to his lips for a kiss.
“Alright, fellas,” he said as he stood up from his seat, pulling you up with him, “the lady and I are gonna call it a night. See you boys next weekend”.
“Chris, we don’t have to go,” you began to protest as he tucked his jacket around your shoulders.
“Mm, ‘course we do,” he replied with a soft smile, “you’re so tired, baby. I can see it in those beautiful eyes”.
You could feel your cheeks turn a light shade of pink as you rolled your eyes at his attempt at laying it on thick. After what felt like a proper 10 minute goodbye session, the group said their final goodbyes, hugs included, and you walked out of the pub hand in hand.
The walk home was filled with the sounds of cars passing by and conversation of what each other had missed in the week prior. Small talk typically felt like such a chore, but with Chris every conversation came naturally. Even when he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about, he would listen intently and ask all the questions as if it was the most interesting conversation in the world.
The lock on the apartment door clicked as you pushed it open and entered. You smiled as you stopped into the middle of the living room, taking in the home you missed so dearly. A soft tapping of toenails against the hardwood made your heart soar as you met the eyes of your sweet pup, Dodger. A squeal left your lips as you squatted down to give love to the sweet boy. Chris always made fun of you when you came home, saying that you always seemed to miss Dodger more than you did him and I mean, he wasn’t entirely wrong about that statement.
Once again lost in your own world, you didn’t even notice Chris leaned up against the wall watching you with a smile.
“Oh my god,” you gushed, standing up, “do you like...like me or something?”
Chris grinned as he crossed the room and caught your belt loop with his finger, pulling you into him slowly.
“Yeah,” his voice had dropped down an octave, “you could say that”.
“Mm,” your tongue swiped across your lower lip and you wrapped your arms around his neck, “care to show me how much?”
The look in his eyes made your core burn. The tension building between you two became too much to handle as you crashed your lips into his. The kisses were messy and you could feel the sense of urgency between you two. His beard scratched against the column of your throat with a delicious burn as he left wet kisses across your jaw and down the side of your neck. Chris’ hands found their way back into the ass pockets of your jeans as he started walking you back towards the direction of the bedroom.
Soon, there was a trail of clothes leading to your bedroom and you felt very sorry for your neighbors. It had been a long time, but Chris always had a way of welcoming you home.
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hpimaginesandblurbs · 3 years
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i don't know if you getting requests but can you write something like the reader (a slytherin if it makes a difference but don't really matter) gets jealous about Draco with Pansy and give him the silent treatment, at some point he lose his patience and fuck the brattyness out of her
pairing: draco malfoy x reader 
warning(s): 18+, dom!draco, orgasm control/denial, edging, choking, degradation
word count: 1.7k
a/n: as a self proclaimed brat, this will be my fantasy of the week. this one goes out to all my bratty draco lovers - enjoy!
“What the fuck is your issue Y/N?” Draco asked, storming into your room. 
The day had been a never ending saga of you giving Draco the silent treatment and him growing increasingly more frustrated with you. But really, it wasn’t your fault. It was his own. 
It started last night at the party. Draco, your fucking boyfriend, decided it would be a wise choice to spend his night hanging out with Pansy instead of you. Sure, you were having a good time with Theo and Daphne, but he was more than welcome to join. What he wasn’t welcome to do was schmooze with his ex-girlfriend where everyone could see. 
And then it continued at breakfast. And although he took his normal spot at the table beside you, he kept whispering in hushed tones with Pansy all throughout. 
So you decided to give him the silent treatment all day, much to your friends dismay. 
But now here he was, in your room, boiling with anger, and he expecting you to talk. 
Not going to happen. 
You simply looked back down at the book you had been flipping through to kill time, not even sparing him a second glance. 
“What the fuck am I missing? Because the last time I checked I didn’t do anything to warrant you acting like a fucking brat,” he said, walking quickly through your room to stop at the end of your bed, leaning against the footrest. 
You only looked up at him and raised a brow, internally applauding yourself when you saw how utterly confused he looked.
“I’ll give you one last chance before I take matters into my own hands, and you’re not going to like that. So. What. Is. The. Issue?” He asked slowly, emphasizing every word. 
You had to give it to him. If it had been anyone but you, his little display would have been intimidating. If it had been anyone but you, they would have spilled all of their secrets right then. But you saw right through the act. And honestly, you were quite intrigued by what he meant by ‘taking matters into his own hands.’ 
So once again, you said nothing, just turned back to your book and ignored him. 
You weren’t even sure how he got over to you so quickly and silently, but the next thing you knew the book was getting thrown across the room and you were getting flipped onto your stomach, your legs dangling off the side of the bed. 
“I gave you so many chances today, Y/N,” he said, a faux sympathy in his voice that was dangerous and arousing all at once. “But if you’re going to be a brat, you’ll get fucked like one.” 
With that, his hands were ripping your pants and underwear down your legs in one go just before you heard the noise of his belt coming off. You were growing wetter by the second, completely caught off guard by his behavior, a fact he was all too aware of due to the fact that you were displayed in front of him. 
“And you’re already fucking soaked,” he commented, a finger coming up to run through your slit. “A bratty little whore. Is this what you wanted? Wanted to get punished like a little slut?” He asked, but you both knew he wasn’t getting a response. 
His finger left only to be replaced by the tip of his cock, which shocked you at first. Normally, no matter what mood he was in, he’d make sure you were stretched enough to take him painlessly. Clearly, that care had flown out the window today. He did say you were going to get fucked like a brat after all. 
You did your best to relax your body as he pushed inside of you, his cock filling and stretching you more than it ever had before. But your efforts were futile, a whine coming from your throat as he continued to fuck into you without letting you adjust. 
“Aww, does it hurt?” He asked, mockingly. “Maybe you should have thought about that before acting like a dumb fucking brat all day.” 
He fucked you harshly, not holding back a single bit. You did your best to stay quiet just to toy with him some more, but his efforts didn’t go unappreciated. A few moans had slipped through, only egging him on. But the moment he pounded against your g-spot, you completely lost it. 
“Draco, please,” you gasped, needing him to do that a million more times and then some. 
“So she fucking speaks,” he said harshly, coming down to drape his chest along your back, his face aligned with yours. His thrusts never faltered as one hand left your hip and creeped around your neck, pressing down just enough to make you dizzy. “You love getting fucked like this, don’t you? Love when I treat you like a fucking whore?” 
“Yes,” you hissed out, trying to control your breathing even as he fucked all the air out of your body. 
“Well that’s lovely because you’re not cumming until you tell me what the fuck is wrong,” he told you, not even out of breath. 
Your heart jolted at his words, not wanting to give up the act yet. But you desperately wanted to cum. He was pushing you closer and closer with every thrust, so you knew you’d have to make a choice soon. 
“I don’t want to tell you,” you argued, but even you knew it sounded pathetic at this point. 
You heard him scoff behind you, but your words only made his double down, practically forcing you to the brink of an orgasm. 
“That’s not going to work. Tell me,” he said, his grip tightening threateningly on your neck. 
When you didn’t even make a sound, he completely stopped moving inside of you, planning on waiting you out until you calmed down. You let out a whine and tried to fuck yourself back onto him, but his hand on your hip immediately forced you back down on to the bed, your plan now useless. 
And you knew you were fucked now. He was in full control of your entire body and the entire situation, leaving you no other option but to tell him. 
“There’s such an easy fix to this, Y/N. You tell me why you’ve been acting like this all day and you get to cum. Don’t think I won’t leave you aching,” he told you, his hips beginning to roll into yours again slowly. 
“You’re a dick,” you bit out, enraged that he had you trapped. But you couldn’t deny his plan was utterly fucking genuis. The man knew what he was doing. 
“And you’re a brat. I wouldn’t have to be like this with you otherwise.” 
That only made you roll your eyes, but it didn’t stop the moan from leaving your lips as the tip of his cock moved directly over your g-spot over and over again, bringing you right back to the brink. 
“Tell me,” he demanded, squeezing your throat before loosening up, the raspiness in his voice letting you know he was close to his own orgasm. Not that that would stop him from torturing you. He’d edge himself for hours if it meant getting what he wanted out of you. 
So you gave in. 
“You were flirting with Pansy all last night and this morning,” you gasped out in one breath, hoping he knew you were being truthful. 
“We’ll talk about that later,” he said, giving up the mean dom act and staying true to his promise of letting you cum. 
The hand that had been on your hip snuck in between your body and the bed, going directly for your clit. The second his hand was on you, you let out a loud moan and felt your walls constrict around his cock. He barely had to move his finger until you were cumming around him with a scream, him following you right over the edge. 
You both laid breathless for a moment, his body still draped over yours, as you both silently came back to reality. He rearranged you easily until you were lying back on the pillows before coming down to lay beside you, facing you on his side. 
“Is that really what all that was about today? You were jealous of Pansy?” He asked, his voice soft now, as he brushed some hair out of your face. 
“Yeah,” you said, too tired to defend yourself. 
“Darling, you do realize how ridiculous that is, right? One - you shouldn’t be jealous of anyone. You’re it for me. And two - there was nothing to even be jealous about,” he told you reassuringly, making you feel a bit better but you still had a bone to pick. 
“What do you mean there was nothing to be jealous about? You were with her practically all of last night and this morning at breakfast the two of you were whispering and I was right there,” you said, growing more defensive the longer this conversation went on. 
He sighed but looked at you carefully, deciding if he wanted to say what he had to say. He must have seen something because finally, he opened his mouth to explain himself. 
“It was meant to be a surprise, but she was helping me plan something for you. Her father knows a guy who owns a hotel in London and I was thinking about getting us out of here for a weekend,” he explained and suddenly you felt so foolish for the whole thing. 
“Oh,” was all you had to say, no longer willing to make eye contact with him. 
“See how easy this could have been fixed if you just told me what was wrong when I first asked?” He asked, and you could hear the smirk in his voice before you even looked up to see it. 
“I guess,” you agreed with a shrug, not warning to admit total defeat. 
“But no, my girl had to go and act like a brat just to drive me fucking crazy,” he said with a chuckle, pulling you into his chest with ease. 
“It’s fun being a brat sometimes. I got great sex out of it,” you finally said, your eyes twinkling with mischief when you looked back up at him. 
“What am I going to do with you?” He asked, rolling his eyes, before connecting his lips to yours. 
Little did he know, you had a lot of suggestions for what he could do with you next time.
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noir0neko · 4 years
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satan on the strip | m
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“But parties of two are my favorite.”
rating: very mature
paring: jungkook x reader
includes: lots of sexual tension, also sex, praise!kink, pet names, magic, drinking, other nefarious behavior, a lot of sexual thoughts, maybe some biting and maybe some air play and begging and cursing and just,,, it’s mature content folks, proceed with caution 
word count: 3.5k
a/n: Hi!!! It has been a hOT minute since I was here. I was just toasting some bagels this morning when this idea popped into my head and I knew I had to write it. Shoutout to bagels for giving me inspo, even though bagels are not in this fic in any way. If you would like to read along to what I was listening to when I wrote, here is the little playlist: “Miracle” by CHVRCHES. “Love on the Brain” by Rihanna, “Hypnotic” by Zella Day and “Locked Out of Heaven” by Bruno Mars. ENJOY! I am super happy to post something again! 
“Come on!” Your friends try to flag you over to the dance floor from your very comfortable seat at the bar. You hold up your drink as an excuse and take a sip, letting the bitter liquid burn a path down your throat. They scoff and give you a dirty look, but continue dancing, throwing themselves around wildly to the music. 
It’s the night of one of your best friend’s bachelorette parties, and of course, she wanted to have it in Las Vegas. And also of course, your ex boyfriend is the best man for her soon to be husband. And triple of course, they decided to crash the bachelorette party and you have now been watching another random girl grind on your ex for the past twenty minutes.
You take another drink, sighing heavily before turning back around to the bar. 
“Long night already?” A voice says from behind you, deep and low. 
You swing your head to the side, getting an eyeful of the very tall and very handsome man who has taken a seat at the bar. His hair is dark and straight, waving lightly over his forehead. His skin is pale, clear, and smooth, with eyes so bottomless and deep they almost look black. He is wearing a gray v-neck shirt with dark wash jeans that have rips in the knees, exposing more of his pale skin and you can’t help but notice he has bright red shoes on. 
“I guess,” You shrug, taking another sip of your drink and moving it to the other side of your body. Just to be safe. 
“I’ll take that it's going to be an even longer one, if your friends are all of the bachelorette girls.” He smiles with his straight teeth and full mouth. “Unless you just wanted to match with a bunch of random strangers for no reason.” 
You sigh again, fingering the stupid sparkly sash around your dress with an absent finger. Your friends had insisted on wearing little black dresses and pairing them with ridiculously bright and glittering sashes that say different things. Luckily, yours is one of the more tame sayings, with “Wild Princess” printed on it in big cursive letters. You feel anything but wild. All you want to do is leave and crawl into bed with a book and sleep. Or maybe cry and try not to replay the image of your ex dancing with another girl and not giving a damn about you over and over again. 
“I wish I was randomly matching,” You take another drink. “Sometimes a party of one is better than anything else.” 
The mysterious stranger gives you a mischievous smile. “Parties of one are great. But parties of two are my favorite. Anything above that is just a crowd.” 
You laugh despite myself, nodding along in agreement. Deciding to not sit and wallow all night, you place your hand in the space between you and introduce yourself. He takes your hand and electric currents run up your arms, pushing a shiver down your spine. 
“I’m Jungkook.” He says, smiling again. 
With his arm out, you can see the beginning of a tattoo curling around his bicep and under the sleeve of his shirt. Your eyes follow it, trying to decipher its long, coiling shape before he pulls back. His eyes seem alive and glowing, their almond shape crinkling in the corners as he looks at you. 
You clear your throat. “What brings you here?” 
“Oh you know,” he says vaguely, gesturing for the bartender. “Work.” 
“This hardly seems like work,” you quirk an eyebrow. 
“Semantics,” Jungkook chuckles. “I am in the entertainment business.” 
He orders his drink, a clean bourbon, and then turns back to you, a secretive smile on his face. It’s like he can sense what you are going to say before it comes out of your mouth. “Movies?” You can totally imagine him in an action film. 
He shakes his head. 
“Television?” You guess. 
He shakes his head again, thanking the bartender as he slides a drink along the counter. 
“Music?” You try again. 
“You’re getting warmer,” he leans in closer and you can smell the alcohol and musky scent of him. It’s almost more intoxicating than your drink. “Magic.” 
“Magic?” You repeat, stupefied. 
“Yes,” he sits back and your head clears. “Magic.” 
“Like rabbits out of hats and throwing knives at spinning people?” 
He seems to think for a second, as if actually considering your joke as a statement. “A bit more sophisticated than that, but yes. That’s the idea.” 
You narrow your eyes at him, turning to face your body towards his. “Show me.” 
“I don’t think you’re ready for the kind of magic I have, Princess.” He says slyly, eyes dipping to your sash again. You scoff, taking the sash off and placing it on the bar. His grin grows and he leans back into you. 
You swear you can feel electricity sizzling in the space between you two, desperate to follow the high he’s bringing. “Show me,” you say again, a challenge in your voice. 
“Alright,” his voice is so low you don’t know how you can hear him over the deafening music and yelling, but it’s as if there is no one else but you and him. “All of your friends are now wishing that they were in your place, when they were making fun of you for sitting here before. You wish you didn’t have to be here, but you are a supportive friend and know how much it would hurt if you left early. Your boyfriend over there is thinking about punching me and wants to know who I am and why you stopped being jealous to pay attention to me.” 
You  blanch, trying to discreetly look to the side to see the dance floor. You can see all of your friends out there, stealing glances your way in between steps and body rolls. You can see two of them giggling and whispering, wagging their eyebrows at you as they catch your glance. Then you see your ex, no longer with the woman from before, but making his way over from across the floor, his jaw set and eyes blazing. 
His angry face. 
Your stomach flips, but there is some smug satisfaction in his reaction as you turn back to Jungkook. He seems completely unaffected by your oncoming ex, but is staring directly at you. You think his eyes could burn you from the inside out if you let them. 
“What do you want to do?” He asks, his word ricocheting deep inside of you. 
“I want to leave,” you say, the words leaving your mouth before your brain can catch up. “Can we go?” 
“Of course we can, Princess.” Jungkook smiles, standing up and offering you his arm. 
You gather your things and join him, careful to not meet any of your friend’s eyes as you let Jungkook walk you towards the door. Hadn’t they been pushing you to hook up all weekend? Hadn’t they been throwing you at guys and giving guys your number since the party started? And even more because of the presence of your ex? 
The thought of him makes you grin and you look back to find him staring after you, clenching and unclenching his fists in agitation. Your smile widens and you can’t help but wave at him as you leave. Fuck him. 
You see your friends waving and jumping up and down excitedly, practically bouncing with happiness at the new development in your boring life. Jungkook’s arm is warm and hard around yours, static and heat pooling in the best parts of you. Close up, you can see the black lines and dots of his tattoo, but still can’t make out what it is. Your brain begins to question what you’re doing. This man is a complete stranger. And you’re in Las Vegas walking out of a bar with him. Every single horror film and terrible thing to happen to a woman always starts out this way. You start to rethink your choice, opening your mouth to tell him you’re going back. 
“Spend an hour with me,” Jungkook says, snagging your attention and the words from your lips. The night air is hot still, the street loud and bustling with people walking to and fro. 
“What?” You furrow your eyebrows. 
“One hour,” he repeats. “Spend one hour with me. If you want to go back after that, I’ll bring you.” 
“One hour?” You sound like a broken record. 
One hour. What can happen in one hour in one of the most crowded places in the United States? You both can just walk around, maybe get some food. One hour only has sixty minutes, after all and on the strip, that time would go by impossibly fast. Not to mention, the last thing you realistically want to do is walk the strip alone or go back into the bar without Jungkook and with your tail between your legs. You know your ex would have a field day and your friends would be so pitiful. Maybe it is about time to get wild. 
“One hour.” You say definitively. A statement this time. 
Jungkook leans in and you smell him again, musky and hot. “Then, I am determined to make it the best hour of your life.” 
His words bring fierce shivers down your spine. What have you gotten yourself into? 
Before you know it, your predictions seem to come true. A half hour passes without notice as you and Jungkook walk in and out of hotels, restaurants and bars. Jungkook asks you about your life, your hobbies, and does little magic tricks for you along the way. Pulling pennies from behind your ears and predicting cards before the dealer draws them. You’re laughing and smiling and living and noticing how beautiful he is when he smiles. How dark his eyes are and how you want to stare into them forever. How perfectly his eyebrows frame his face and how his cheekbones and jaw make him seem carved out of marble. 
“Have you ever thought about playing?” You ask him after you exit Caesar’s Palace. He had correctly guessed every single card before it was shown on the table and helped one of the players win big. Although it has to be well after 2 in the morning, the night is bustling and alive. Dancers are on the sidewalks in big feathers and bikini costumes, people dressed as Disney characters and superheroes are posing for pictures, and tourists are drinking and laughing and mingling with one another. 
“No,” Jungkook laughs, secrets in the sound. “I don’t need money.”  
“Doesn’t everyone need money?” 
Jungkook looks at you, tilting his head to the side. “There are things money can’t buy.” 
“Like what?” You ask. 
“Purity,” Jungkook responds. And the answer is so weird you stop walking. 
“Purity?” You put your hands on your hips, half mocking him. “Like chastity?” 
Jungkook moves close to you, looking down at you with those deep and confusing eyes. Your lips are part of their own volition. You want to kiss him. You want to do a lot more than kiss him. 
“Not chastity,” Jungkook looks wistful. Almost sad. “Heaven. The purity of it. When you fall, you can’t buy your way back in.”
Heaven. You think to yourself, looking at this man who seems to be a fallen angel himself. Beautiful and dark and full of magic, real or not, that pulls something buried deep inside of you and brings it to the surface. You hate how sad he looks, how regretful and reproachful. You want to ease his pain, you want to give him a slice of Heaven, a slice of the world, to see him smile and his eyes crinkle again.
And hell, if you don’t want to give yourself a piece of Heaven, of him, as well. 
Without thinking, you pull him into an alley between hotels. The night is hot and starless, the smell of sweat and alcohol and lowered inhibitions in the air. You don’t feel fully in control of your body, letting instinct guide you and Jungkook into the dark narrow street. 
“Time is almost up,” Jungkook reminds you. 
You growl in response, not even sure you know how to make such a sound. Not sure where this all consuming emotion has come from. “I don’t care.” 
Reaching out for him, you slam your bodies together and crash your lips onto his. You fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a long lost puzzle you didn't even know you’d been trying to solve. You push Jungkook’s hair back, catching a glimpse of small stud earrings in his ear. The jewelry is extremely sexy and you feel even more eager than you did before to feel him. 
Taking more control, Jungkook pushes you back until you hit one of the walls. You can hear the laughter and sounds of people around you on either side of the alley, walking up and down the strip and drinking. It would be so easy for someone to look in and see you both, obviously involved in much more than an innocent kiss. 
He touches you and you feel like you might break a part into a million little pieces. His touch is shocking, little fires trailing behind his fingers as they roam down the bare skin of your arms. Your back arches into the stone behind your head, a moan ripping from your throat when his fingers graze the skin of your neck. Jungkook is watching you with a feral gaze, licking his lips before leaning in to run his lips and teeth over your throat. You grip the front of his shirt, desperate to feel more. To feel everything. 
Jungkook crowds you closer to the wall, aligning his body to press against yours. You can feel the rises and plains of his muscle and frame through your thin dress. Your breasts peak with anticipation, a tingling sensation building low in your stomach. Jungkook hooks his hands around your thighs, the feeling of his bare skin on yours eliciting a string of curse words from your mouth. You’re ready to beg him to touch you where you need it. 
Luckily you don’t have to. 
Once he has you firmly against the wall, with your legs hooked around his midsection, he curves his arm around your leg and lets his fingers graze you. There is nothing blocking his touch and the contact and slickness of you seems to shock him. 
“No underwear?” He nearly growls.
“It’s a matching thing,” you all but pant. 
“It’s a naughty thing, Princess.” Jungkook responds, pressing his thumb directly into you. “How could I not tell before?” 
You ignore his statement, aware that you’re unable to question anything he does right now. His thumb begins to move and you moan, burying your head in the crook of his neck to muffle the sound. Jungkook’s other hand weaves through your hair, pulling you back against the wall so the sounds you emit echo against the narrow alley walls. 
“I want to hear you,” he commands. 
“But the people,” you begin to protest, knowing that even you don’t care. 
“They can’t hear or see us,” he responds, a grin carving a wicked look to his features. “Like I told you: magic.” 
Without warning, Jungkook slides two fingers into you, dragging the longest and deepest sound from your throat. Your hips are trying to move, begging for more friction, but he won’t give it to you. He has his body flush against yours on the wall. In complete control. You fucking love it. 
His hair curls with sweat, the strands sticking to his forehead. The moisture seems to make him sparkle and glow. Like an angel on Earth. Maybe a fallen angel. He curls his fingers and strokes you, your walls clenching around his fingers with delicious pleasure. 
“Shit,” he curses, sliding his fingers out. “I need to be in you. Now.” 
You whine in agreement, the intensity in his words making your toes curl. Jungkook reaches in between your bodies to undo his belt, long and nimble fingers making quick work on the clasp. You want him to do wicked and horrible things with those fingers, and that belt. You want him to tie you down and make you beg for every lick of pleasure he could give you. Wild desperation begins to build in you. You could cum just from watching him. Just from seeing that pink tongue of his lick across his lips. 
“Jungkook,” you groan, watching him pull his cock out. 
The rational part of your brain is aware that you are both in public, with hundreds of people walking by the alley every minute. The rational part of you is aware that you can get arrested for this. That this is dangerous and irresponsible on so many levels. But the louder and reckless part of you never wants this to end. The irrational part of your brain believes him, trusts him, and trusts his magic. No one has noticed yet. Maybe luck. Maybe magic. You don’t care. 
And then he is poised at your entrance and pushing into you in one, long, thrust. Your moans are incessant, no breath between the sounds. You can feel him at the back of you, you can feel him everywhere, filling you up and intoxicating you. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he is groaning, deep and dark and raw. 
He moves again, in and out, following an untraceable rhythm that is setting you on fire. You have never felt this alive before, this electrified, everything is you is singing with approval and building with pleasure. You didn’t know sex before this, you didn’t know how good it could feel before this. How can you ever be with anyone besides him now? 
He’s going to fuck you and leave you fucked for the rest of your life. 
Jungkook claims you in a kiss, his tongue roaming your mouth. He swallows your moans and sounds with shivers. Your hands reach under his shirt and travel along the rigid muscle of his stomach and shoulders. His body seems to come alive beneath the touch, skin rippling and muscle contracting. 
You can feel his large intake of breath along your lips. You don’t think you’ve heard him sigh until now, or breathe at all for that matter. It’s like he has never taken air into his lungs before you touched him. And now you can’t stop. Your fingers are everywhere as he continues to fuck you. Wild. This is wild. 
“Don’t stop,” you beg, breaking the contact of the kiss for breath. 
Jungkook’s eyes are touching you as they roam around your face, down your neck and collarbones, over your breasts and stomach, until they settle on the point where your bodies are joined. His skin is slick with sweat. His eyes are burning with passion. The muscles of his back and taut, signaling he feels as close as you do to release. 
He reaches between you and begins to rub your clit in small circles. That’s it. You’re gone. You’ve sunk so deep, you know there’s no coming back. You splinter and break a part around him, milking his cock with tight spasms until you feel him cum, as well. You cum for what feels like forever, moaning and writhing and shaking at his touch. 
Jungkook’s teeth are grazing at your throat and he bites gently. You think you’re going to cum again, moaning and arching up to give him more access. He’s still in you, despite the cum you feel dripping around him and coating your thighs. Jungkook’s lips curve up and he pushes his teeth deeper into the base of your throat. You feel a sharp sting and then warm, hot blood is dripping down your collarbones and between your breasts. Jungkook lets out a gasp as your blood fills his mouth, swallowing the thick liquid like he’s a man dying of thirst. His eyes are glowing, his skin is glowing, and you swear the tattoo on his arm stretches itself out, like it's waking up after a long sleep. 
“You,” he says, capturing you in a long searing kiss. You can taste your own blood. You can taste your own desire, still throbbing deep and low after he’s satisfied you.  “You are my princess.” 
And then, just as quickly as you were there, you’re gone. Swallowed up by a black so endless and so deep you’re not sure you’ll ever resurface. Like realizing you’ve sunk too far in the deep end of the pool and wondering if you’ll make it out. Like falling asleep and hoping you don’t wake up. And consciously, dangerously, eerily, like the color of his eyes.  
You’ve met Satan on the strip. 
And your hour is now eternity. 
----------------------
~Admin Eggplant
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hops-hunny · 3 years
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You Can Be the Boss
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Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Reader
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 2.2k
Request: N/A but it’s based off of this rambling here
Summary: Women are beautiful, but they sure don’t make ‘em like her.
Warnings: Weed, Alcohol, Mentions of sex.
A/N: I wrote this to cope with the copious amounts of work I had due but I finished it all so now we celebrate!
Hogwarts had many things but one thing it lacked severely was normality. Not that it was a problem, nobody who attended Hogwarts was normal but it didn’t stop a portion of muggle born students from feeling a bit homesick to things their muggle friends did at their own schools. That’s how the talent shows started. At first, the students tried to get it officiated by the school. Dumbledore thought it was a wonderful idea!....if it was professor supervised and when it turned out that Snape was the only professor with enough freetime on his hands, the idea of having it being school ran quickly flew out the window. But looking back on it now, many were happy they went with the idea of going behind the professors backs. It wasn’t like they weren’t aware, they just had no proof of it all happening. The atmosphere of the talent shows were different from ordinary talent shows, however.
For starters, anything went. Any talent you had you were encouraged to bring it no matter how big or small it was or if it was “school appropriate”. But the pro to this was also booze and bud, meaning that everyone had a good time no matter what. Although, as it would turn out there were many talented people at Hogwarts. So, for the past few months every Friday everyone would gather in the room of requirement, watching the many ups and downs of performances. Neville started frequenting there as often as he could. It was a win-win, his friends got free entertainment and he had a chance to make some money from selling to chumps with too much cash on their hands. What better way was there to spend the night? 
His hazel eyes snapped up at the feeling of his blunt being ripped out of his hand. He went to swear, glaring at whoever was stupid enough to do that but quickly stopped as he saw who it was. He watched with wide eyes as the tip of it went between her pretty (l/c) lips, exhaling smoke. (Y/n) (L/n). She was one of those girls you either knew or you didn’t but more than likely, you knew her. Before 5th year, no one so much as spared her a glance but after a very fortunate late puberty in their current year (7th) she was slowly becoming all anyone could talk about. It was truly amazing what a haircut and a bit of weight in your hips could do for your social life. He eyed her curiously as she looked down at him.
“You comin’ tonight?” she asked, exhaling another puff of smoke into his face. (Y/n) put the joint back in his hand, moving the heavy guitar case into her now free hand.
“Yeah. ‘Spose I am.” He mumbled, eyes trailing down the expanse of her plush thighs. They were on full display due to the skirt she wore that left nothing to the imagination. His eyes locked with her (e/c) ones as she hummed, nodding as she took the blunt back from him walking off. She flashed him a smile once more, winking as she turned the corner going merlin knows where.
“Oi! What does she think she’s doing? You really gonna let her take the blunt from you like that just because she’s fit?” Ron complained, glaring at the boy who was set with the rest of their group. Neville shrugged, turning his eyes back to his book as he turned the page.
“If you’re so bothered by it why don’t you go take it back yourself?” Neville sassed. They all looked at Ron waiting for a response, laughing as he had nothing to say but a small ‘piss off’ under his breath.
-----------------------------------------
Neville wasn’t one to put too much into his appearance. He’d usually just throw on a sweater vest over one of his uniform shirts and call it a day. However after the conversation he had had with (Y/n) earlier, he couldn’t help but wanna look nice. Was she flirting with him? He sighed as he glanced at his appearance in the mirror for a bit. ��I doubt it.’ he thought. He shook the negative thoughts out of his head, packing his satchel with a few different strains. Just because some pretty girl was batting her pretty little eyes at him didn’t mean he was going to forget the reason he went to these things in the first place. The only other time Neville made this much money was Gryffindor common room parties and even then, it was only by a little.
But even as he was checking his appearance once again, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts drift. “Why am I wigging out? It’s not like we haven’t talked before.” He said out loud to himself. (Y/n) was a frequent buyer from him and even though he didn’t know her personally, she was one of the few people whose faces he remembered. At first, he was extremely annoyed by her. Who did she think she was showing up at his dorm at 3AM just to buy a bit of fucking jane? Every wednesday at the same time, she’d show up at his door (in a negligee that was far too short might he add) with that dopey look on her face asking to buy. And every single time without a doubt, he’d sell it to her. He had to admit, after a while he even started to enjoy the girl’s appearance. It gave him something to look forward to during his mundane school week.
“Ready to go, Nev? If we leave now, we can use a secret passage my brothers’ showed me.” Ron said, opening the door to Neville’s door. The lanky boy cleared his throat, giving the boy a nod as he wiped his sweaty hands on his pants. Without another word, they both began their way ready for the night to unfold.
As usual, the talent show didn’t disappoint...for all the wrong reasons. Even though the cringe worthy performances were top notch entertainment and he had already made quite a bit of money, he still couldn’t stop from searching the crowd for a certain head of (h/c) hair. Where was she? After the stunt she had pulled earlier, he was sure she would be here. She had some nerve doing that and then not showing up. However, as he turned his gaze back to the stage, he saw the woman of the hour herself. She was in an oversized crochet sweater dress and a pair of combat boots. His eyes looked up in wonder as she took the stage, sitting on a wooden stool that was placed from the last sad excuse of a performance.
“It’s a bloody shame that she’s so fucking hot. Poor thing is going to embarrass herself singing up there.” Ron said, taking a sip from the beer he had in his hand. Neville nodded in agreement, taking a hit from his blunt but not really paying mind to his friend. It was hard to do so when the girl of his dreams was on the stage a mere foot away from him. He was absolutely intoxicated by her (and the few shots he had taken a bit ago) but he had to agree it would suck when she-”
“You taste like the fourth of July
Malt liquor on your breath, my, my”
She sang into the microphone softly. Neville’s jaw dropped in awe at the sound of her voice which was nothing short of angelic. He wasn’t the only one who was stunned considering the whole crowd went silent, a stark contrast from the loud chatter and laughter from before. He watched as she strummed at the guitar in her hands, looking up from the ground into the crowd. Mesmerized wasn’t even the right word to describe the state he was in. 
“I love you but I don’t know why…”
His eyes were focused on her lips, taking in every word she said. Harry nudged him, mouthing the words ‘look up’ to him as a small pause had come into the song. Neville looked at him confused before trailing his eyes up, gasping when he saw that hers were locked on his own. She smiled and flashed him a wink before continuing her song, leaning in forward. His own body began to subconsciously drift forward to but at the last second she pulled away and continued to sing.
"Did you see that? She definitely wants me." Seamus boasted confidently. The others looked at him dumbfounded at the fact he could get even more idiotic than ever before.
"Don't be fucking dumb mate! She was clearly looking at me." Ron chimed in, causing another round of even more exasperated looks to be thrown the ginger's way. They truly were dumb and dumber.
"I-I think both of you are wrong. (Y/n) was looking at.." Harry trailed off as the girl stood up, dancing around the stage with her guitar as she continued to sing. Not a single pair of eyes weren't on her at the moment. Could you blame anyone? When a beautiful girl with the voice of a siren is on stage, you'd be a fool not to. However, dumb and dumbers’ argument ceased as she made very clear eye contact with their awkward friend.
“You can be the boss, daddy
You can be the boss”
“That’s all me boys.” Neville said, a triumphant smirk taking over his place as Dean leaned over to give him a fist bump. As much as (Y/n) had him wrapped around her finger, it appeared she was wrapped around his too. All the angry glares being sent his direction were only fuel to the pride he felt growing in his chest. Such a pretty girl, the same pretty girl who plagued all his wet dreams and shower thoughts, was not only on stage singing in front of him, but directly to him as well. She reached a hand forward, tips of her fingers lightly brushing against his flushed cheeks.
“I like you a lot, I like you a lot
Don’t let it stop”
“This is totally unfair. One of the hottest chicks in our year and she’s pining over Longbottom.” Seamus grumbled, grimacing as the liquor went down his throat hard. Dean rolled his eyes, shaking his head.
“Jealous much?” he asked no one in particular, as that could be said about most of the guys they were sitting with.
“Bad to the bone, sick as a dog
You know that I like, like you a lot
Don’t let it stop”
Neville felt his own lips curl up into a smile at the sight of the one that belonged to the angel in front of him. However the cute moment didn’t last long cause once again, Ron chimed in with something else.
“Neville? Bad? He still sleeps in pajama sets!” he exclaimed quietly, earning a ‘shh!’ from Harry. The boy in question leaned forward, looking at his ginger friend.
“Is this really coming from the boy who needs Mummy’s howler to fall asleep at night?” that shut him right up. Harry snorted, high fiving him for bringing up the embarrassing piece of information. 
The girl continued to sing, eyes never leaving Neville’s for a second. Ron and Seamus’s petty comments had ceased as well. Even though they weren’t the one receiving attention, they could still admit the girl had pipes on her. When the song was over she stood up, bowing as the silence of the crowd quickly erupted in cheers and claps from the breathtaking performance. There were a few more people left but no one paid much mind to them. He found himself feeling bad for them. Even if they were good, none of them could top the performance of the night. 
As the night began to come to a close, (Y/n) found herself over to Neville again parking herself in his lap which he gladly accepted. She looked up at him, smiling shyly. It was almost comedic due to the words she had so sinfully sung to him only 45 minutes ago. Neville ignored the way his friends gawked at him. He’d deal with that another time.
“Come back to my room and split a spliff?” she asked, looking down as she picked at her fingers. He grabbed her hands, leaning in close to her.
“Only if I can eat your pussy afterwards.” he said confidently. He said it quiet enough to not draw attention but just loud enough that his friends would hear. (Y/n) felt her face grow warm as she nodded, hopping up from his lap as she dragged him off to her room.
Neville 1, blokes 0.
Extra:
“Seriously?! Is it really that easy? What does he have that I don’t?” Seamus said, mind running over the times he’d attempted saying things like that. The only place it had gotten him was on the ground after he had his balls kicked!
“It’s gotta be the weed. After all, who wouldn’t wanna sleep with the weed man? Free pot!” Ron exclaimed, trying to rationalize what had just happened.
“Aren’t you the residential booze man of Hogwarts? If that was the case, you’d have an easier time with women too.” Dean said, causing Harry to nod in agreement. Ron simply grumbled, slamming his empty bottle down as he walked off from the cackling group of blokes.
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Family Business
A/N: It took me a while to write and finish it, but I like the idea a lot. Hope you guys enjoy! Pairing: Mafia!Steve Rogers x F!Reader Word count: 3,008 Warnings: Death, weapons, mention of blood, swearing.
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(Gif is not mine, by super-madi16)
Okay, so maybe this wasn’t the way you expected to spend an average Thursday night with your daughter.
Everything was going perfectly fine. The two of you were making dinner together in the large, modern kitchen of your New York penthouse, surrounding by the glimmering of lights from other buildings and down below in the bustling streets that never sleep.
Carbonara was on the menu. It was one of Stella’s favorite things to both make and eat. At the independent age of 16, it was rare that she wanted to spend time with you and Steve anymore. She would much rather be out with her friends and her dad’s credit card than to be cooped up in this rather ginormous penthouse the family called home.
But here she stood, stirring the sauce as you monitored the pasta, complaining about her day and about how stupid boys her age were (as she always put it she was looking for a man, not a boy which always resulted in Steve chocking on whatever he was eating or drinking at the time). That conversation resulted in complaining about school in general, and how much it sucked being a teen.
As you continued stirring the pasta and she went back on her phone to play another song from the Bluetooth speakers in the kitchen, a sudden gunshot erupted. Both of you froze, your eyes scanning the room to see all of the guards rushing in the direction of the noise. But it only took a fraction of a second for your mother bear instincts to kick in. Grabbing your daughter and pushing her into your chest, you desperately ran back and into the secret room behind your clothes in your walk-in closet, that Steve had designed especially for emergencies.
Running your fingers across the area, the door popped open. You desperately pushed your daughter in than yourself, shutting the metal door back with the huge lock and bar, and hid with her in one of the corners, turning the lights off. You could hear her heavy breathing, as clearly she was having a panic attack. Grabbing onto her and her soft hair, you held her and murmured sweet words of endearment in an attempt to calm her down, which seemed to work... some.
It wasn’t until you heard a loud bang against the door that you yourself softly gasped and clung onto your daughter, she let out a soft sob. Knowing someone, who was probably not an ally, was on the other side of the door frightened you and both her. She was the first, you noticed, to throw herself away from your and to a box only a few feet away. Through the dark, you could see her open the wooden box and grab a gun inside, her shaky hands visible. She slowly and as silently as she could, cocked the gun. “Stel,” You whispered to her, “I got it.” She shook her head. “Stella I told you-”
The loud crash from the metal door that one divided safety and danger between the two of you and the outside world came colliding down. You couldn’t identify much but a man with a gun in all black, his silhouette disrupting the light from your closet that seeped its way through the doorway. None of Steve’s men would dress in all black.
You weren’t sure what to do. In a fluster within your mind as your daughter held the sole weapon you two had and a man who could end it all right here, or worse, drag it on further out. Your eyes froze in a complete panic your hands involuntarily shaking and shivering cold with fear.
A gunshot sounded, the man falling to the floor in a single second as blood surrounding his body and ricocheted onto the walls. You gasped in relief, looking over to your daughter, “Stella?”
There the young girl, long brunette hair with delicate waves at the end, sat on her knees in complete horror and awe, staring at the dead body. She dropped the gun from her right hand and let out a horrid sob. Cupping her face in her hands, you rushed over on your hands and knees, holding her as tightly as you could without suffocating her body. You cooed her, brushing her soft hair in your fingers and placing your own chin on her head, engulfing both her body and soul within yours.
“I-I,” She mumbled, “I killed someone.” It took everything within your being not to start crying yourself, or worse, lash out at someone or something. The genuine and pure form of anger that pulsated in your veins made you want to rip something to shreds.
While ultimately this wasn’t Steve’s fault, you were mad at whoever did this. You had chosen this life with your husband, you two had chosen to have a child together. You brought her into this world, without her permission, and you always tried your hardest to keep her out of the world of Mafia.
She had been interested since day one of getting involved, being the head man, or headwoman just like Steve. And when she asked him about it all he wasn’t only happy to hear about her interest, he was proud. Something that Steve rarely meant, unless it was for Stella.
But you knew after tonight, that would change.
It was only a few minutes later, you were sure, but it felt like an hour for Steve himself and a whole military worth of his men to arrive. “Y/N?” He called out, running into your closet judging by the pattern of his feet moments on the hardwood floors, “Stella?”
His figure appeared in the light, his face turning from concern to sadness. Dropping the anger that once tensed his muscles, he walked over and dropped to the floor next to your daughter, as Bucky and Sam rounded the corner to see both the scene and the body in awe.
“Baby?” Steve cooed to your daughter. For the first time, she looked up with swollen and soaked eyes. Another sob escaped her lips as she moved from you to him, clinging onto his dress shirt for dear life as she cried into it, his large arms embracing her in a large hug as he kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay sweetheart, it’s okay.”
“D-dad,” She stuttered out, pulling away to look at him.
“Yeah, sweetie?” He looked down at her, still holding her partially.
“I killed someone.” He looked with big eyes at her, then calmed down and sighed.
“Okay.” He huffed out, “We’ll deal with it okay?” He looked back to Bucky and Sam, snapping only once and looking to the body which they had other men help them out with, as Steve turned both you and Stella away.
“Dad, I’m a murderer.” She mumbled as more tears fell down her red cheeks.
“No, sweetheart, no you’re not.” He sighed, “It was self-defense.”
“But I killed someone!” She argued.
“To protect you and your mother.” He repeated himself, “Darling, that’s self-defense. You’re not a murderer, and you never will be.” She continued to hold onto Steve, still crying. “Let’s get out of here, okay?” She nodded, her head still buried in his chest.
He helped you up onto your feet first, checking over your face and giving a quick kiss to the top of your forehead, before retreating back to Stella. He picked her up, carrying her bridal style into the living room. Placing her down on the couch gracefully like she was a porcelain doll, he cooed her a bit more before barking at the men around the room to remove themselves and go elsewhere in the house.
“Baby? Are you okay?” The two of you sat down on the couch. He was on her left, you were on her right. Running his hand through her hair to calm her down, he genuinely looked worried.
“I can’t do that again, Dad.” She leaned into his chest, “I can’t.” She mumbled.
“I know, sweetie, I know.” He sighed, still running his hand over her head. “You won’t ever have to again. I promise.” He gave her a tender kiss on the top of her head, you now rubbing her back in circles with one of your hands. “Do you want some dinner?” He asked her next, aware that no one had eaten yet. She shook her head. “Mkay.” He sighed, not wanting to push her.
“I just- I just wanna go to my room.” She pulled away a little, giving both you and Steve one more hug.
“You sure, honey?” He asked very lightly. She nodded.
“We’ll text you with dinner options, alright?” You spoke up and she nodded. “We love you.” You smiled at her. She nodded and walked away. Once she was up the stairs, Steve let out a sigh and moved closer to you, throwing his arm around you. You sank back into his chest, closing your eyes to absorb the warmth and safety.
“And how are you?” He asked, giving you a kiss on the head.
“As good as I can be.” You replied. “I’m just worried about her.” He nodded.
“I am too.” He admitted, “I’m so sorry that happened, it’s my job to protect you two and-”
“And you weren’t here so it’s not your fault, Steve.” You fought back peacefully.
“But if that fucker wouldn’t have-”
“Steve, stop.” You told him firmly, “There’s no need to blame yourself for any of this, okay? If we should be worried about anything it’s Stella.” He nodded in agreement.
You felt some guilt as well. You should have been the one to have the gun, you were the adult in the situation. Granted Stella was exactly like Steve; she was persistent, she was stubborn. Usually, that would get her places, she could even get more money out of Steve for shopping trips or to go out with her friends because of her negotiation skills and how she would never stop. But today was drastically different, this was a situation where you didn’t want those traits to play out. Especially the way they did.
You curled into his chest, his arms wrapping around your body, your back to his chest. “I love you, so much.” He mumbled into your hair.
“I love you too.” You slightly smiled, rubbing his arms with your hands.
“So you know what you want for dinner?” He asked you next.
“I don’t care,” You sighed, “Maybe that Italian spot a few blocks away. The one that Wanda’s family owns.”
“Oh yeah,” He responded, “Let’s get take out from there.” He pulled out his phone, still holding you with one arm, and got the menu. “Should we get Stel something?” He asked, you nodded.
“Even if she doesn’t eat it tonight we can keep it in the fridge.” He nodded in agreement.
“What do you think she would want?” He asked you again and you lightly laughed.
“You know what she wants.” You rolled her eyes.
“Chicken tenders.” You both said in tandem, light laughter following. “Mkay love,” He got up, letting you set yourself back on the pillows, “I’m gonna go order, alright?” You nodded in agreement.
As he departed down the hall to order, to leave you without any disturbance, you chose to watch some TV. More as a mindless distraction, something to keep your eyes from replaying the scene in your mind of your daughter defending you. Something to occupy the ringing in your ears between the gunshot and the sobs of the one you loved most.
You tried so hard to be calm and collected, for both her and Steve. You knew Steve would loathe himself enough about all of this, now was your time to be the rock in the family. Even if you weren’t all that solid at the moment.
“Love? Baby, you there?” You heard Steve, breaking you from your trance.
“Huh, what?” You looked up with a soft smile as you glanced at his face. He smiled back.
“You zoned out there for a sec,” You nodded as he came to sit next to you again. He examined your face for a moment, seeing right through you as if your walls were made of glass. “Baby, I need you to talk to me.” He said softly, with a slight tinge of worry in his voice. You sighed, looking down to your hands and then back up at him.
“I’m just-” You tried to contemplate which words would accurately fit how you were feeling, “I’m conflicted.” You admitted to which he gave an inquisitive look.
“How so?” He asked.
“I want to- I need to be there for Stella,” You began, “But I also haven’t had time or space to process this myself. and maybe that’s selfish, I’m sure it is. But it’s all just so much-”
“It’s not selfish,” Steve insisted plainly, “Not at all. Stella’s been through a lot today, but so have you. And if you need all the time and space in the world to figure this out, I’ll figure out a way to give it to you.” He offered a kind smile. “I can be there for both you and Stella. That’s my duty.”
“But it shouldn’t be.”
“But it is,” he continued, “Because you willingly chose to immerse yourself in my lifestyle, which was enough to ask for, and Stella didn’t have a say.”
“But still I’m her mom and-”
“And you’ve both been through a lot and you both need time.” He gave you a peck on the cheek, “I love you, and you deserve all the time that you need.”
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It took a few days for Stella to come back and begin to interact with you guys again. You had brought food to her room, some candy and ice cream too, everything and anything she needed. Steve had called her off school after yelling at the principal and using the excuse, “I pay enough for that damn school the least you can do is give my kid a few days off” which seemed to work.
It was minimal interaction at first. Initially, she was just grabbing some water. Then it turned to snacks, then to a very small conversation, then to her finally spending some time with you guys.
It wasn’t until you had all sat down for a family dinner that she had begun to open up, just a bit though. It was primarily you and Steve attempting to talk about things of interest that related to her: politics, books, anything you could. She remained silent, in her own mind and world. You weren’t sure what she was thinking, but you didn’t want to push or interrupt her either.
“Dad?” She finally spoke up, her voice reaching just above a whisper. Both of your heads shot up to where she sat, next to Steve and across from you.
“Yes, sweetie?” He asked, putting his full attention on her.
“I- um,” She began contemplating what she was going to say, looking down at her food which she has slowly been eating, “I need to tell you something, now, but you have to promise me that even if you get mad, you won’t yell or anything.”
“Of course not,” He grabbed her free hand and held it on the table, “I promise.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a few brief moments before looking back up to him, “I don’t think I can take over all of this.” She admitted, clearly awaiting a response with little breath.
“All of what?” Steve asked.
“Your position.” She clarified.
Naturally, she was next in line to be the mob boss. Sure she was a girl, Steve didn’t care though. He had been preparing her for most of her life. But you knew from the moment she pulled that trigger that that was it. She would never be able to be in the mob.
Steve stared for a few seconds, looking down and giving off a quiet sigh before clearing his throat. “That’s fine.” He lightly smiled, still holding her hand. She gave a confused look.
“A-are you sure? You have to be mad-”
“No, no I’m not. I get it.” He admitted, “And don’t worry. We’ll find someone to take over. We can’t forget Will, Uncle Buck’s son, he could take over too.” She nodded lightly.
“Thanks, dad.” She looked up at him with a tight smile, to which he smiled back.
“Darling, I hope you realize that your mother and I didn’t just have you to take over the business,” He clarified, “You’re our daughter, and that’s your first and only role to us.” You nodded too, silently agreeing with what he was saying.
“Thanks, Dad,” She softly smiled, “I love you guys.”
“We love you too.” You smiled, grabbing her other hand, before looking to Steve raising one of your eyebrows. He gave you a confused look, pondering over what you were trying to communicate, before finally getting it.
“Oh,” He sighed, with a soft smile, turning his attention back to Stella. “Your mother and I thought it might be best to take some time off, with you, of course, so we scheduled a three-week trip to stay down in Palm Beach, at the house there.” He smiled at her, to which she smiled back.
“Wait, but what about school?” She asked. Steve rolled his eyes.
“I dealt with it don’t worry.” He began, as you got up to begin taking plates to the dishwasher, “fuck school anyways.” Stella began laughing as water flew out of her mouth, to which she covered her mouth with her hand in shock, and Steve began laughing too.
“Hey!” You scolded him, “We should not be preaching that to our daughter. Or any kid for that matter.” He rolled his eyes.
“I’m also allowing you to take three friends. No boys though, and their absence will be dealt with too.”
“Thanks, again, dad.” She smiled, genuinely, for the first time in weeks.
276 notes · View notes
tsukishumai · 3 years
Text
First Kiss - Tsukishima, Kageyama, Hinata, Yamaguchi (Karasuno First Year edition!)
Aoba Johsai Edition
It’s a little long, I have zero self control
Can you tell I love Tsukishima  (。◕‿◕。)
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TSUKISHIMA - 
Before, you used to spend your days in school with your cousin, Yamaguchi, and his less-than-pleasant-but-ridiculously-good-looking best friend, Tsukishima.  
He was a jerk, to put it lightly, but hey, you can be a jerk too.
“Your hair looks like a damn bird’s nest, and your bow’s all crooked. Did anyone even teach you how to be a girl?” “Did anyone teach you not to be such an insufferable asshole?” “Do you even know what ‘insufferable’ means?” “Uh, yeah, it means Tsukishima Kei.”
Yamaguchi regrets ever introducing you two.
Things may have started like that, but it wasn’t long before the biting tone in Tsukishima’s words was replaced by something more playful, each remark followed by a smile. He started walking you to your classes, saving you a seat next to him during lunch, even going so far as to share music with you. (He’ll never show you the playlist he’s made of all the songs you’ve recommended.)
But that was before. Now, you were doing your best not to melt under Tsukishima’s heated gaze, paying no attention to the golden brown eyes that have followed you around for days.
The bell rang to signal the end of class, and you quickly gathered all your things, throwing them haphazardly into your bag, and running out before Tsukishima could get to your desk.
You got to your locker in record time, quickly changing out of your school shoes so you could start your trek home. Usually, you would wait for Yamaguchi and Tsukki to get out of practice but… this was better for you. 
“You’re avoiding me.”
You jumped at the voice that was suddenly right behind you, knowing exactly who would be there if you turned around, so you didn’t.
“Don’t you have volleyball practice?” “That’s beside the point.” “Avoiding you? I haven’t been –“ “I’m not a dumbass, so don’t play games with me. You’re avoiding me. Why?”
You gulped, gripping the school bag that hung off your shoulder until your knuckles turned white. You wanted to lie, but there’s no point. Tsukishima was always able to see right through you.
“I heard you tell Tadashi that you liked someone…” “… So?”
You tried to pretend that your heart didn’t just crumple up like a piece of paper. “SO! I didn’t want to ruin your chances; she might get the wrong idea if she sees us together all the time.”
He scoffed. “That is the single most idiotic thing I’ve seriously ever heard. Did you hit your head as a kid?”
You could feel your face turn red, anger beginning to bubble in your throat. You finally turn around to face Tsukishima, ready to give him a snarky comment. “No, YOU’RE the single most idiotic thing –“
The words died on your tongue, muffled by Tsukishima leaning down and pressing his own lips onto yours. 
He pulled back, and couldn’t help but smirk at your flushed appearance.
“I was talking about you. Stupid.”
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KAGEYAMA –
You had always found it extremely fun to mess with Kageyama Tobio
The boy was a genius when it came to volleyball; but maybe that’s where his genius ends.
It didn’t escape your attention that he would get flustered every time you smiled at him, or that his friends would tease him whenever you walked by, or that it was him dropping off a juice box and melon bread on your desk every morning with a note that says “have a good day.”
You enjoyed it; the way you could make him short circuit just by giving him a hug, the crimson on his face when he catches your eye from the court, and the deer-in-headlights look he gave you when you confessed your feelings.
You were never one to make the first move, sometimes wondering why you did it for Karasuno’s genius setter, but you’re reminded when you feel the shiver in his body as you slide your hand into his, and you see the sweet look in his eyes when you ask him to walk you to class.
You didn’t mind that you had to initiate most of the affection if it meant you got to see the blush that Kageyama always tried to hide.
Today, you found yourself in the perfect position to mess with him. The two of you were having a movie night, and even though you shared the same blanket, Kageyama was sitting on the other end of the couch like a perfect gentleman.
“Tobio,” you whined, “I want to cuddle.”
You didn’t even give the poor guy a chance to reply before crawling from your side of the couch, and situating yourself on his lap, arms reaching up around him as you buried your face into his neck.
You could feel Kageyama’s entire body stiffen, steam practically beginning to come out of his ears. 
Laughter threatened to spill from your lips, so you decided you’ve done enough to the guy, and started to make your way off until you felt two strong arms snake around your waist.
You lifted your head to face Kageyama in surprise, but your breath was caught in your throat when you noticed the look he was giving you. 
It was like slow motion – Kageyama’s head lowered and your eyes fluttered close before you felt the velvety soft pressure of his lips against yours.
Omg d-did he just kiss you?!
Now it was your turn to be flustered. The corner of Kageyama’s mouth turned upwards ever so slightly, and his hold around you tightened, causing the pink tint of your cheeks to deepen into crimson. 
“Let’s stay like this for a while.”
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HINATA –
Everything. Was. Going. Wrong.
This was not how Hinata imagined your first date together would go!
Do you have any idea how long Hinata has been waiting to ask you out? Ever since he met you at National’s last year, he’s been planning this day. 
You were beautiful, funny, and you could teach him (more than) a thing or two about volleyball? *Chef’s Kiss*
When you finally agreed to go on a date with him, he thought he was dreaming. He knew he had to make it the best date ever.
He definitely didn’t go to the bathroom six times the morning of.
There was a summer festival that weekend, and he figured it would be the perfect place to take you on your first date.
Ten minutes in, Hinata had spilled Kakigori all over his Yukata. He had been in the middle of beating himself up about it when you reached over and dabbed at the stain with a napkin, laughing at his clumsiness.
An hour in, Hinata had spent nearly all his money trying to win you a stuffed animal to no avail. (You got it yourself in one try.)
Two hours in, Hinata had accidentally stepped on your obi, ripping the delicate material. He wanted to die right then and there, but you insisted it was old, and you were planning to get a new one anyway.
Just as Hinata thought he would redeem himself by taking you on the Ferris wheel, he found out that he got motion sickness, and you ended up having to rub his back, while he fought the urge to hurl the whole time.
“I’m so sorry,” he apologized once the two of you exited the metal death trap, sitting him on a bench, “I swear I had planned for this day to be much better.”
“What do you mean? I had a great time,” you said, and Hinata gave you a look that clearly said he didn’t believe you. You just laughed. “Hinata, when we first met, you threw up on my shoes. Today was a big improvement.”
He laughed. “Still – I wanted you to have a cooler memory of me.”  
“You don’t have to try so hard,” you giggled, “I came here because I like you.” 
Just then, the sky lit up with different colors of reds, greens, and blues; dancing together to create a pattern that illuminated your face in a way that made Hinata’s heart race.
You smiled then, sitting beside him on the bench and laying your head on his shoulder. “At least we have these fireworks.”
It was there, on a random bench under the glow of summer time, that you shared your first sweet kiss with Hinata Shoyo.
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YAMAGUCHI -
 Enter Yamaguchi Tadashi; Captain of Karasuno Volleyball Club, Pinch Server, and all-around good guy.
He’d like to think he was a completely different person now; no longer the shy, timid first year that was stuck on the bench while his classmates shone on the court.
Now, he was in charge, and one needed to have all the confidence in the world if they had to keep his demon classmates in line.
But all that confidence just went down the drain whenever you were around.
“Good morning, Yamaguchi-kun!” “Oh, hey! Hi, yeah, it’s a good morning right? Aha, the homework last night was pretty hard, right? Haha..ha.”
“I watched your game last night, Yamaguchi-kun! You were amazing, I couldn’t take my eyes off you!” “Wha - Ah - Haha, that was nothing, just -  it was, uhm, the team they helped ahaha, I – Thank you?”
“Dude…” Tsukki would say, “What the hell just happened to you?”
Naturally, his friends got sick and tired of seeing him turn into a dumbass around you, so they decided to take matters into their own hands. 
Yamaguchi should have known what the boys were up to when they decided they wanted to throw a party after the game. As captain, he probably should have spoken against it, but he was also feeling pretty high from the win, and wanted to let loose. 
How they managed to trap him in this closet with you was beyond him. He thinks he heard the words “7 minutes in heaven” but the beers were making everything move too fast, and your proximity was more intoxicating than anything he drank that night.
You looked at him with glossy eyes, and he felt like he was drowning. More than a few minutes passed, neither of you moving. The tension was rising, and Yamaguchi didn’t want to make you feel like you had to do anything you didn’t want to.
“Y/N-san, you don’t have to –“ “Yamaguchi-kun, I like you.”
He froze, mouth hanging open. He watched as your gaze lowered, fiddling with your thumbs as you took a step back, and he instantly missed the closeness.
“I’m sorry, this was stupid. Tsukishima-san told me this would be a good idea, but I can see that I’m making you uncomfortable, I’m just going to –“
You felt Yamagachi’s warm hands on either side of your face, catching you off guard before he pulled you in and locked his lips onto yours. Your hands instantly moved up to wrap around his middle, and you lost yourself in the softness of his movements.
He pulled away, making a mental note to thank his idiot friends when you beamed up at him with a smile that blew him away. “I… I like you, too.”
A/N - This one is for @valiantrevolt​ !
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moonlightchildz · 4 years
Text
The art of broken love; K.T
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writer: moonlightchildz
date published: 03/07/2020
pairings: taehyung x reader
warnings: smut: creampie, fingering, unprotected sex, oral f. receiving, uhh does dirty talk count??, use of drug (weed), & angst
description: you were utterly and irrevocably in love with kim taehyung. problem was that he was your best friend’s ex.
word count: 21.2k (whoops)
His lips are roaming the crook of your neck, tongue sweeping your skin. His hands are placed on the wall that you’re backed into, eyes watching you as you begin to lose yourself into his touch. You’re mewling at just the sensation of his mouth on your skin, hands beginning to tangle themselves into his long, wavy hair. His wet kisses start to trail up your neck, kissing the side of your mouth as you giggle, eyes opening to finally see him.
“Taehyung,” you pull him closer, noses nudging against each other’s. He hasn’t kissed you yet and you’re becoming a tad bit crazier as each second passes since you need to kiss him at this point.
“I love you,” he whispers it out against your mouth, fingers encasing your mouth to keep you close to him. Your eyes widen, fingers becoming numb. “I love you.”
And before you could utter those same words out to him, you woke up.
“Holy fuck,” you panted out heavily, hands trembling as you tried to get yourself together. You glanced around your bedroom, noting that it’s past three am and you feel those familiar tears paint your face once again.
You did not just have a wet dream of fucking your best friend’s ex.
                                                            ——
“What’s wrong with you this morning?”
Hyejin eyed you skeptically, innspecting your bodry from head to toe.
“I couldn’t sleep very well last night,” you partially admitted to your best friend. There was no way in hell you were going to tell your best friend you had a dream of being fucked thoroughly by her ex-boyfriend. Oh and let’s not forget the part where he told you he loved you.
“Yeah it looks like you had one fucked up night,” she mused out and you just ignored her for her sake. Instead you dragged your way to the fridge, trying to find something edible to have at four in the morning. Once you finally found your culprit, Frosted Flakes, you decided you needed some bananas in it as well. 
“Why are you still up?” You asked with a mouthful of cereal. Your best friend just kept analyzing you since you knew you probably looked quite sad and vulnerable right now in her eyes.
She immediately grabbed herself a bowl and joined you. “Joon left an hour ago and I just took a shower. I have today off so no worries.”
Regardless if she didn’t have today off, she still would be staying up until her shift started. She was that insanely chaotic.
“Anyway, Joon is coming over so—“
You were already groaning. Whenever Namjoon came over that meant you either slept with your headphones plugged in with all of the high volume on, or spending the night somewhere else that wouldn’t require you to throw yourself out your bedroom window. Namjoon and Hyejin were just so unnecessarily loud when fucking, it was irritating and ruining your much adored sleeping hours. Not to mention that Namjoon was also one of your best friends. In fact, you and that absolute clumsy moron were practically sibling soulmates. So it was definitely weird seeing both of your worlds just collide into one.
“I’m not in the mood to spend the night somewhere else.”
“Actually he’ll be spending the weekend next week so,” she paused, taking your reaction in. You didn’t know what kind of expression she saw on your face, but she hastily began to launch into an apologetic but semi aggressive rant. “Look, his water is gonna be out for the weekend cause he’s reconstructing his bathroom. He was already going to stay at this expensive ass hotel, but I’m not letting him when he can crash here with me.  Also, y/n, he’s your best friend.”
You never had a problem with your best friend’s lovers that is until she started dating the ever so artistically, beautifully, and charismatic man named Kim Taehyung, but that’s another story to tell. Namjoon was a great guy. He was sweet, poetic, and everything a man should be but he was also careless, clumsy, and a complete nimrod. Yeah he was your best friend, but it just weird it you out that these two suddenly started dating a year ago. You remember passing out with Namjoon on your bed after your little drinking session of cheap vodka had escalated. Namjoon was all wrapped up in your covers and you were thrown on him, mouth wide open with drool collecting on our pillow. Hyejin had stormed in and immediately raged. If you could color the way her face looked, it would be more along the lines of an angry, magenta red.
She was screaming ‘how could you do this to me?’ and ‘you know what I’ve been through’ but poor Namjoon was still knocked out, snoring his problems away. She tried coming at you and you just ran away screaming at her to fuck off. By the time she got you, Namjoon was widely awake and ripping her off from you, yelling at her to get away from you. The misunderstanding was cleared up, but you never really forgave her for thinking that you could ever betray her like that. Even when she was with Taehyung, you never once tried to get with him. Your friendship with him was just that, a heartbreaking and one side love that had turned into a beautiful friendship.
And then he left without a trace.
 Snapping out of your thoughts, you immediately launched into your list of do’s and don’ts. “He’s not touching my food, he has to pick up after himself, whatever the hell he breaks he’s paying for or I will drive my foot up his ass so far you’re going to be kissing it goodnight instead, okay?” You smiled rather sweetly at her, but she knew you meant business.
Hyejin was already nodding, launching off her chair to throw her arms around your neck in such excitement. Getting to agree to bring boyfriends over was a cautious decision ever since her last relationship. She was more secretive, more reserved, and wouldn’t overshare anymore. That still didn’t change the fact that you both loved each other so much despite everything. However, Namjoon was your best friend first, so any stupid ideas that she got were immediately shot down by Namjoon and you. Which brings you back to this predicament.
“Thank you, thank you, and thank you!” She squealed in your ear and as much as you loved her, having her scream in your ear at nearing five in the morning wasn’t something you wanted to endure anymore.
“Uh huh,” you sighed and gently pried her off you. With that, you finished your bowl, threw it inside the sink, and bid her a goodnight before you dragged yourself back to bed. You figured tomorrow was going to be a long day at work.
And it was.
 It was filled with reports, your dickhead of a boss assigning you the worse people to work on a proposal that was due next week, and honestly you couldn’t believe you chose this field instead of something you would genuinely like to do. Society had its way of bending you over and fucking you over completely. Thinking about that, you then realized you hadn’t actually fucked anyone in over a year again. It reminded you just how lonely and saddened life had become for you. It only reminded you of him and how much you missed him wholeheartedly. It was honestly pathetic. Stop, you told yourself. Just stop it already.
 If live was a canvas, everything would be shaded in with the grayest and darkest of colors. Splattered paint would angrily cover it, and to soothe the pain it would be with gentle strokes of the softest of white. There were moments in life that you knew the soft white color would turn into a variety of others, it’s just the timing wasn’t right now. And as you wandered aimlessly around the museum, you started noticing your surroundings once you turned the corner and saw a more colorful perspective of art being displayed on the wall. Every single painting looked the same in a sense, but you knew in your eyes that it wasn’t.
 Each stroke, each color, each scheme represented something that the artist itself was trying to portray to themselves, or anyone feeling the same as them. It differed from love, anger, fervor passion, and distinguishable sadness that welcomed you so warmly. It wasn’t until you reached the last painting, when you slowly came to a stop. Everything about it screamed at you, demanding your utmost attention. Because even as the brightest of colors covered the canvas, the picture itself contrasted it. There was two figures. You presumed it was a male and female. One was in the middle shinning as brightly as they can, and the other remained in the shadows. But as you inspected it closer, you realized that it hid in the shadows of her colors, watching her. A hand was spread out and you could see on the palm of his hand was split with her colors, and the other with what seemed to be his.
It was breathtakingly beautiful. And it reminded you of someone so much that you felt something spill from your cheeks. Your hand was trembling as you tried to stop the drops that were falling and you claimed it was just raining. It was.
 It was severely raining inside your soul.
 And then your eyes glanced over at the artist’s name: Silly by Vante
You blinked once, then twice, and then finally you had to lean against the wall to sustain yourself properly. There was no way in hell this could be happening to you right now. There was no way in hell that life could be this cruel to you in this instant. But the shaking in your fingers, the quivering in your lips, and the sobs that were lodged in your throat begged to differ. All you wanted was a distraction, not a wakening alarm. So before you lost your shit, you tried gathering the last remaining bits and pieces of yourself before you lost those too since it had taken ages to collect those when he had left.
You felt a presence behind you and you just wanted to get out of there and breathe. Time felt as if it was slowing down, the ticking began to commence.
A painting by him? Here? Here?
“y/n?”
Your bags slipped from your fingertips. 
You didn’t turn around.
By the sound of just their voice you already knew who it was and honestly you felt your heart and mind were just playing tricks on you. Your mind knew what your heart needed and it was simply giving it to you in a sense of a vague memory of him. You were going batshit crazy.
“I know it’s you,” he spoke up after a moment and that confirmed it.
He was actually here. He was actually here.
You hadn’t seen him, or even spoken to him after your best friend broke up with him. He had vanished out of your life the second they were done and even though you told yourself several of times that he wasn’t yours to even yearn for, your heart didn’t give a fuck. In the wake of an ending relationship, a friendship had blossomed between you and him. So in a way it was like a break up to you too. You had lost someone special in your life and you didn’t even get to say goodbye. You didn’t get to say goodbye to him, or your pending feelings for him.
No matter how hard you tried to sustain yourself, you didn’t want to turn around. Because once you turned, you’d have to face reality and you weren’t exactly prepared for that in that instant. Your eyes were set on the wall, tears prickling. Don’t cry you weak little bitch. Suck it up and breathe. It was the beating of your heart and the jitters that reminded you that you were indeed alive and still breathing despite everything. And it was screaming, ‘he’s back’ with such intensity. With a deep breath, you slowly turned around.
He was carrying shopping bags in both hands. His hair was matted up as usual, but there was now a gleam in his eyes like never before. You noticed his hair had gotten longer, strands of dark brown hair covered his eyes. His beige cotton sweater complimented his skin so well and fit so loosely on him. Not to mention those brown plaid pajama pants that he would wear every day because he claimed ‘it’s fashionable these days’ and ‘look! It matches everything I wear’. But despite his physical exterior changing, the way his eyes shone immediately whispered to your aching heart that he hadn’t.
Taehyung. My Taehyung.
Out of all the days he could show up, it just happened to be that same day he had surprised you in your dreams. It happened to be the day you had wandered inside the museum you had met him in two years ago.
 “Beautiful isn’t it?”
 You were utterly speechless. “I’ve always loved the concept of the sun, moon, and the stars. It’s sort of a love triangle between them. You know the story of how the sun died every night just to let her breathe? Well, the stars make the essence of the sky. It unifies them, ties them together and makes them even more beautiful. But people think of stars separately. They don’t see the stars with the sun and the moon even though they should be.”
 The stranger turned to look at you. “Have you ever considered that the stars alone don’t need the sun and the moon? They are their own separate entity. They shine brightly with, or without them.”
 “They are uniquely beautiful. And the whole romance between the sun and the moon is bittersweet since yeah they were once together in a sense, but they don’t complement each other. The stars do.”
   You had missed him so dearly and now he was just a few feet away from you, looking toned and practically glowing. In that second, you felt your body go numb and haywire simultaneously. All of these thoughts whirled inside your mind as your body stay put in its place because he was right there. All you wanted to do was cry and be welcomed back into his arms. Your heart yearned for it as all of the memories that you created with him overwhelmed you once again.
  It was summer again.
You were laying on his lap, babbling away some nonsense since you were drunk. Taehyung on the other hand was just amusingly watching you, responding back to you and even questioning you more. Your best friend had already fallen asleep on his bed, leaving you both alone in the dark as you both softly whispered to each other. Empty glasses of wine stood on the outdoor table along with a jar of weed, and there was your bong sitting beside it.
“You’re so cute,” he bopped your nose and you rolled your eyes. You tried swatting his hand away but instead he just pinched the bridge of your nose softly.
“If I’m so cute, then why am I still single,” you whined out and Taehyung just softly chuckled. “You know, whenever I see you and Hyejin I get a little sad.”
“I’m sorry.” He immediately responded, but you hadn’t caught that.
“But it’s because I’m reminded that I don’t have anyone to kiss, or hug, or even share something with. I mean for fucks sake, I haven’t fucked anyone since—” you counted your fingers and whined some more upon realizing just how long you’ve been dry. “Oh my god it’s been a year.”
Taehyung quirked an eyebrow. “I find that very hard to believe.”
“Me too.” You agreed and Taehyung remained silent. Curious upon his silence, you glanced up to see him intently gazing down at you. It was as if he was caught in his own thoughts. His finger delicately traced the underside of your chin rather gently and as you both continued to speak in hush whispers to each other, you wondered what went on that pretty head of his when it came to you. Deep in your heart you knew the reason why you hadn’t let another person touch you intimately. They just weren’t him.
  The way you both greeted each other had become a routine even.
“Hey there, silly.” He greeted you quite enthusiastically, arm slinging over your shoulders. He pulled you towards his side and you made yourself comfortable, a smile already laced on your lips.
“Hey there you twat,” you happily chirped out but Taehyung had another set of plans since he teasingly ruffled your hair and you whined, hitting his chest rather harshly. 
“Oh no, no!” He was quick in stopping the both of you. From behind, you could feel his warm hands slide over your sides before wrapping his arms around you, spinning you around as you began laughing and telling him to stop.
 The feeling of his hands on your skin kept you wide awake for nights.
   “What are we doing tonight by the way?”
You glanced over at Taehyung who was already awaiting your answer. The both of you were on the couch side by side. There was a respective amount of distance between the two of you in the beginning, but then a fighting footsie battle had initiated and you were leaning on his shoulder now, watching him play on your Playstation 4.
“You sir,” you tapped his nose to try and gain his attention. “Have a date with Hyejin tonight, remember?”
He squinted, tilted his head back, and made a motion of opening his mouth to bite your finger rather than answering. You just shoved him back by the push of your hand on his forehead. It was after a couple of minutes later that he decided to say, “That doesn’t mean we can meet later? I wanna show you my new playstation.” He then pouted as you started shaking your head.
“Can’t. She told me she had a special surprise for you so,” you smiled, though it didn’t exactly meet your eyes this time. “I’ll be staying at Namjoon’s tonight.”
“Oh,” His movements on the controller suddenly slowed down, attention span lost. “Namjoon? You mean that dorky professor who everyone has a crush on?”
“You mean the dweeb that is my best friend?” you corrected him, finding it amusing that everyone around you did in fact have a crush on Namjoon. “Yeah.”
“Right.” He drawled out, clearly not buying it. 
“Anyways, I have to get ready for work soooo,” You ruffled his hair and quickly ran past him because you knew he would follow you and tickle you endlessly. From behind your closed door, you heard him whine in return.
“MY HAIR.”
“Have fun on your date!” You shouted instead, softly giggling to yourself like a school girl.
“I’ll try.” He quipped and you were left there wondering if he meant it, or if he was genuinely playing around.
 And then, there was that one night that changed everything around you.
Hyejin had been pestering you about your love life, trying to interrogate you as to why you were always so single and lonely. It did aggravate you at times. It felt as if she was pouring salt and lime all over your wound, but there was one night where she had set up a blind date with someone who you were definitely not interested in knowing at all. She wanted you to tag along to her and Taehyung’s date. You obviously declined, but it’s not like she ever listened in the first place.
“I don’t wanna go,” you told her, but she was not having it.
“I worked hard for this night and you Miss are not going to ruin it.”
“Dude, just go without me. I’m sure you rather not spend time alone with Tae.”
She stopped swirling the batter she was keen on making for pancakes. Something about the way she glanced over you, as if something was at the tip of her tongue should have raised concerned. Slowly, she prompted, “Tae?”
You on the other hand were carelessly flipping over your notebook, trying to review your notes for exam season that was quickly approaching. “Your boyfriend?” you told her, pouting once you realized your head was hurting beyond belief.
“I never knew you and him were that close,” she noted, eyebrows furrowing a bit.
“Well, that’s what happens when you’re a third wheel in your best friend’s relationship,” you carelessly joked, but she didn’t laugh. She just stayed silent.
You figured it was the nerves since she always tended to get very easily irritated whenever something important was coming up. Her anniversary with Taehyung was just weeks away and she was racking her brain for ideas. And since you were her best friend, you obviously had to hear it and even voice your opinions. It was definitely some cruel and twisted joke. However, after that day she never spoke to you about Taehyung anymore.
Then the date night came.
“Tae is here,” you notified Hyejin once you received his text to open the door.  She was prancing around the room, trying to make sure she looked like perfection when in reality she already was. Your best friend was honestly beautiful inside and out, no wonder Taehyung was so in love with her.
You were about to step out to let Taehyung in to let her continue getting ready when Hyejin spread out her arm, stopping you from walking out of your room. You blinked twice, trying to understand what was happening.
“My boyfriend is here so I go first,” she tried joking, passing past you before you could walk out into the living room. You simply stepped aside and signaled her to walk before you. You figured it was just the nerves.
“You look gorgeous,” you overheard Taehyung tell Hyejin. She giggled quite loudly and you glanced over your phone, definitely not having it tonight. Maybe you could pretend you were sick?
“Where’s y/n?” Taehyung suddenly asked, his deep voice making its way into your heart.
At the sound of your name slipping past his lips, your nerves simmered down. You could do it. It was just one night that you had to endure. Everything would be okay. Without a much glance at yourself, you began walking into the living room to accompany them. You were texting Wheein and Yongsun, trying to find their encouragement words as motivation for tonight.
“Wow,” was what made you look up from your phone as soon as you stepped foot inside the living room. Wow indeed. Taehyung was so insanely handsome in rendered you speechless. His short hair had been permed like he had told you he would do it and you wondered how it would feel like against your fingers. He wore a light grey long overcoat that covered the creamy-white dress shirt that molded to his body like second skin. His dress pants made his ass stand out and you noted the rings that decorated his hand so prettily. His pretty dark brown eyes was all that you could think of in that moment.
“We’re matching,” Taehyung grinned, eyes firmly set on your eyes now.
You glanced down at yourself and laughed, because yes, you both were matching. A creamy white champagne high low dress complimented your body. The straps hung loose on your arms where you decided to put a bracelet and to compliment it you wore rings on your fingers. The jacket that you had on was a light grey color and your curly hair had been pinned up by the sides.
Taehyung’s grin was endless that it made your heart flutter.
“You look really beautiful,” he said and you wondered if the smile you instantly let on your face screamed the evident feelings you had for him.
“She would have looked better in another dress.” Hyejin spoke up, eyes raking your body from head to toe. “Also those heels are old and worn out. You wanna wear some of mine instead?  You know the ones that Taehyung gave to me?”
“No,” you shook your head, still smiling. “I wouldn’t want them to get dirty, or worse trip and break them.”
Taehyung’s grin slowly morphed into a disappointed frown. He glanced over at his girlfriend, eyebrow quirked. In return you glanced her way and then back at Taehyung who seemed to be getting irritated as each minute passed.
“So, are we just gonna stare at each other, or can we leave already? Your date is already waiting for you over there, y/n.” She said, eagerly signaling you to walk out before them.
Taehyung began coughing, hands turning an awful white from how hard he was curling his fist. And Hyejin immediately started spluttering out, “Babe, are you okay? Would a kiss make it better?”
And that was your cue for you to let them be. You grabbed Taehyung’s keys from the couch and then you simply told them you would wait in the car, leaving them inside. They took quite a while to come down, but once they joined you inside you noticed there was a certain tension between them, and it was starting to suffocate you.
“Oh, fuck I forgot my purse in my apartment. y/n, go get it.”
“No,” you flatly responded. “You go get it. It’s cold and I’m being dragged out to this, remember?”
“Boo,” she pouted and then sighed heavily. “I guess we’re not going anywhere then.”
“Hyejin,” Taehyung suddenly spoke out, his patience wearing thin. “Are you good? Why are you acting so bratty lately? If y/n doesn’t wanna go then—”
“Leave her out of this,” she gritted out, surprising you momentarily. “She is fine. I’m the one who is not. I’m fucking cold, you know, your girlfriend? So can you go get my purse and my jacket?”
Taehyung inhaled deeply, face remaining stoic before he calmly exited out of the car. She watched him slowly walk back up the stairs and you remained silent for a bit, trying to figure it out how to approach your best friend without pissing her off furthermore.
“Hyejin, what’s wrong?”
“I’m fine, y/n.” She snapped and you bit down on your lip, restraining yourself from provoking her. The last thing you needed was a fight between the two of you. He came back after ten minutes and once he started driving, you sighed. Hyejin started talking to him then, animatedly telling him how the guy was a perfect for you and she couldn’t wait for you to meet him. She even joked about getting rid of you finally.
“Now Taehyung will be able to finally spend the night again.”
Except her plans backfired for that night since your blind date didn’t have the nerve to cancel last minute. Though that didn’t hurt you as much as watching them together in front of you. Hyejin clung on to Taehyung, seductively muttering nonsense into his ear but his eyes were set on you. Yeah having to endure them together was something you had to put up with since that was your best friend, but just the realization that he’ll never be yours to love wholeheartedly did the trick that night.
You remember excusing yourself and rushing into the bathroom stall where your tears were hidden from everyone in that moment. You clung on to your dress, eyes blurry as you felt your heart break further more. Your back was against the stall and you were huddled into your own bitter demise because why? Out of everyone in this goddamn world did you have to fall for someone who belonged to someone else? 
“Get yourself together, bitch.” You sniffled out, trembling hands beginning to wipe away your tears. “You’re no pussy, hoe.” 
Once you repeatedly told yourself that mantra, you gathered your shit together temporarily. You hastily splashed water on your face, trying to erase evidence of your downfall since you couldn’t handle looking at yourself anymore. After a couple of minutes of just resting your forearms on the sink, head between your arms, you reminded yourself that you could just go home. You would excuse yourself from their date, leave in an Uber, and go to Namjoon’s since you didn’t want to handle Hyejin. Not whenever you were so close to breaking.
The moment you stepped foot outside though, you spotted Taehyung pacing back and forth, talking to himself. He was running his fingers through his hair, tugging at it insistently.
“Tae?”
He stopped at the sound of your voice, hands falling to his sides as he turned to face you.
“Hey there silly,” he softly spoke upon seeing you. He was quick to approach you and you allowed him to pull you close into his arms, inhaling his sweet scent. You allowed yourself the comfort as his hands caressed your back. “I’m sorry she put you up to this. I told her you weren’t comfortable.”
You allowed yourself to curl up further into his embrace, hands sliding underneath his arms, digging into his shoulder blades. You felt as if you were crumbling and he was here collecting your pieces, helping you remain intact for a little longer.
“It’s okay, I’m just tired really.” You croaked out, genuinely feeling drained in that moment. “I’m just tired of constantly having to fight myself for something that is out of my control.”
“We’re leaving okay? I’m going to take you to that stupid noodle place you love so much and play that dumb board game that you’ve been wanting us to play. I think we have some left over face masks, too. And of course your favorite thing in the world?”
“Weed?” you hopefully asked and Taehyung just laughed.
“On a serious note,” he began murmuring it out, “I’m sorry you had to deal with that unsympathetic asshole, but in reality I’m sorry for him. He missed out on an amazing woman who lights up her surroundings with just a glance of her eyes.”
“You’re too kind sometimes, Kim Taehyung,” you softly told him. Please stop.
He slowly bent down, eyes set on you now. His hands framed your face so tenderly and you swore fate was cruel to you. “I’m being 100 percent honest with you right now. You are such an amazing person and I—”
He suddenly halted. You could feel the way his hands curled around your face, fingertips slowly tracing your skin. The way he was gazing at you and tenderly touching you made your heart flutter. It made forgetting him ridiculously harder than it already was.
“If I were an artist, I wouldn’t hesitate to make as many portraits as it takes to make you realize just how beautiful you are.”
“But you are an artist,” you immediately interject, not having it. Taehyung was an incredible artist, but he always claimed he was the contrary. He didn’t really see the talent that he possessed, but in your eyes he was the next Van Gogh. After all, he had painted your world in a variety of colors.
He laughed softly to himself, and instead of saying more, he simply pulled you back into his arms. The moment you felt his lips trace your head something strange had happened. As he held you in his embrace, your fingers curled into his shirt, the desire to kiss him becoming incredibly stronger than remembering that he wasn’t yours. But as he reassured you with the sweetest of words, you realized you were utterly and irrevocably in love with Kim Taehyung.
 It was a few weeks later after the date night when Taehyung had called you at exactly seven in the afternoon. You weren’t alone in the apartment since Hyejin was preparing herself for the ‘happiest night of her life’ as she claimed. She was bragging and constantly telling you about it to the point where your heart and mind connected to tuning her out whenever she did. Instead, your thoughts rewind it back to that night. That night when you realized just how deeply your feelings for him were coursing through your veins. Ever since then, you hadn’t seen him.
Then as soon as you were tucked inside your covers, heartbroken, and ready for bed, his unexpected call came through. You didn’t even say hello before he was sputtering out, “Can you come over? Please? I-I need, um, it’s an emergency.”
He hung up after that. All kinds of scenarios formed in your mind in that instant. Was he hurt? Did he finally realized he no longer wanted you in his life? Maybe he needed help in picking out his outfit for the perfect night tonight. So with your pjs on, you slid on a hoodie and secretly left without telling your best friend anything. Either way she didn’t notice.
“You actually came,” Taehyung spoke up, sounding weak and even relieved in a sense.
You mustered up a tiny, but genuine closed lip smile. “Of course, dummy.”
“I thought you were ignoring me,” he said, pausing afterwards to see you. His eyes trailed your body from head to toe, a tiny grin replacing the worried frown he had earlier.
“Shut it,” you immediately told him, huffing. Yes, you were wearing mickey mouse pajama pants, and yes Taehyung was grinning widely now.
“This isn’t even about me so—” you stopped talking once you realized just how distraught he really seemed. “Tae, what the hell happened to you?”
His hair was everywhere, dark heavy bags underlined his eyes, and all over his clothes was splattered paint. Without even intending so, you quickly approached him. Your hands were framing his face before you could detain yourself, eyes roaming his features. He had purple, green, pink, gold, and blue paint adorning his handsome face.
“Hey,” with a soft whisper, you demanded, “talk to me.”
He simply responded back with his beautiful, signature, boxy smile. “I rather show you instead.”
Confused, you glanced up at him and he just pulled you closer to him. His hand pressed against the back of your head, hugging you fully now. And you just complied with your hearts desires and inhaled deeply his scent. Your hands tentatively wrapped around his sides, ear placed directly against his beating heart.
“Thank you for coming,” he softly spoke to you and you hummed in peace. “You made me realize what I finally need to do now.”
Of course, after all, you were in love with him. You would do anything in order to retain that beautiful smile of his, even if it meant breaking your own heart in the process. Because the person who was responsible for his happiness, for that smile, and for his heart was someone else.
“Come,” his voice rumbled throughout his chest and you nodded, your heart sighing. He was pulling away from you, slowly, and you found yourself not wanting to let go. You found yourself wishing you didn’t feel this way about your friend, about your confidant, and about your best friend’s boyfriend but the heart wants what it wants.
“Someone missed me,” Taehyung mused out, glancing down at you. His arms immediately went back around your body, wrapping you up so warmly against him in a way that made your heart stammer beyond control.
“As much as I love this,” he chuckled, his deep, honey like voice sounding like a melody in your ears. “I’ve been working on this for weeks and it’s really important.”
“Okay.” You let go of him, reminding yourself where your place should be. You shyly glanced up at him and found him already looking at you. He didn’t say anything else, instead, his fingers tentatively interlocked with yours.
The feeling of his hand sliding and interlacing with your own, only enhanced everything around you. You felt dizzy and lightheaded from just being near him, but now he was holding your hand as he led you through his apartment.
Taehyung unlocked a door that had always been secured. He didn’t even allow Hyejin to see what was in there, much less go into the said room. You slowly followed behind, curious eyes taking in every detail. All around the three walls, paintings were hung. The only light that was being portrayed was by the wall to wall sliding doors. The room was painted with beige colors, and next to the doors you could see pillows and blankets strewn. Alongside stood bottles of water, wine, and his color palette that had been heavily used judging by the colors that were grimy and mixed together.
“Okay but these paintings are beautiful as fuck, holy shit.” You were in absolute awe that you let go of his hand first. “Can I?” you whispered out, unsure if it was okay to taint his pretty art with your touch.
He simply smiled.
So you went around the room, curious eyes taking in every detail because Taehyung had taken seconds, minutes, hours, days, or even weeks out of his life to pour his soul into these canvases and convert them into his own art. You gazed in fascination since he managed to mix every color together, creating these contracting meshes into one. It depicted him so well, and you felt an overwhelming pride upon seeing these because he finally painted.
It was the last painting that made you stop and really take time and depth into analyzing it.
“Do they remind you of something?” He was behind you, probably just a couple of inches away from you since you could feel his warm breath fan the back of your neck.
You tilted your head, trying to decipher what it meant. The painting was eccentric from the start. In the background the colors were shaded in dark monotone colors but in the center of the painting there was a figure that resembled a woman that was outlined with soulful colors. Hues of pinks, blues, yellow, green, and everything in between surrounded the figure that happened to have their eyes closed with a smile. As you sank to your knees to get a closer view, you traced the stars in the background with your fingertips. Something about it reminded you of something but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it yet. Stars? The moon and the sun were parallel to each other. The stars were everywhere though, outshining them both in a sense. An overwhelming emotion clouded your senses once seeing the painting as a whole. The woman was painted beautifully.
“It was the first time we met,” he quietly explained and you felt the air in your lungs rapidly leave your body. “At the art exhibit. I remember you telling me about how you’re stupidly obsessed with the concept of stars, the moon, and the sun.”
“Is that...” you swallowed thickly, hysteria bubbling up inside of you. No, no, it couldn’t be what you were thinking.
“Read the back of it,” he softly spoke behind you.  
“I-I,” you started blubbering out, your eyesight momentarily blurring for a second. As your finger traced the stars, you felt the sob lodged in your throat threatening to spill out.
Silly.
“What’s wrong?” Taehyung was quick to pick up on your mannerisms. He seemed concerned upon seeing the tears in your eyes once you turned around to face him.
“You idiot,” you simply muttered out before launching yourself at him. Arms winded around his neck and Taehyung softly chuckled before wrapping his strong arms around you. You inhaled his scent, finding comfort in his arms and just him overall.
“Thank you,” your voice was muffled out by his clothing. “Thank you.”
“It’s yours, if you want it.” He softly spoke out, chin on top of your head. His thumb was rubbing soothing circles on to your exposed skin, humming along to whatever song was on his mind in that moment.
You simply nodded, afraid if you spoke something else would end up happening in that moment. Your quivering lips ghosted over his exposed skin, hot breath fanning against his chest. His movements stopped suddenly, and you could feel him inhale sharply. Your fingers were digging into his sides, tears beginning to stain his shirt now.
“I—” you choked out, not really finding the right words to say to him.  
“Please don’t cry,” he begged you, his hands cupping your cheeks. You could feel his hot breath fan against your lips. His nose nudged against yours and you felt a dizzying spell overwhelm your soul upon being so close. He was tantalizing you without even meaning to. Just by the way his breath ghosted your face, your mind had wiped clean your conscious. He was so close. He was just there. His fingers were tangling into your hair, unspoken words being desperately told with just a flickering of eyes between the two of you.
“You are so undeniably, bewitchingly, ethereally beautiful.” He softly confessed against your mouth. You felt the murmur of his lips against yours and it just enhanced his lovely words into your heart. The pad of his finger softly ghosted over your bottom lip and you didn’t realize how utterly close the both of you were until you felt the erratic beating of his heart. Your fingers wandered up his arms, suddenly stopping once they were around his neck.
“y/n, I—” he breathed out, his lips slowly and just inches away from finally meeting yours. Your eyes were fluttering to a close, almost allowing yourself to finally dive head into what was Kim Taehyung, but just as your heart almost gave up on you, your mind thought of something immediately.
“Hyejin,” you threw out, eyes widening. Hyejin. Images of your best friend flickered in your brain, the red warning flags finally slapping you back to reality. A reality where Kim Taehyung was not yours and will never be yours. His heart belonged to someone else.
“Oh fuck,” he suddenly blurted out as you were pushing him away from you. The both of you instantly fell apart in that moment. Shame quickly took a whole of you now and the mortification and guilt was just eating you away as you tried to avoid Taehyung’s gaze.
“I think it’s time for me to go,” you shakily said, your heart breaking with each word you uttered out.
Taehyung had his eyes screwed shut, his hands hastily tugging at the roots of his hair in what seemed desperation. “I, uh, I actually have to meet up with her.” He said as an afterthought, and then his eyes widened. “Oh fuck, I have to go pick her up in twenty minutes.”
He glanced your way and you simply did not look at him at all. After all, you were just seconds away from kissing him and rendering straight into his arms. Your feelings had begun to control you and that had become incredibly dangerous now. You knew deep in your heart that you needed to get away from him because you were sure the next time you wouldn’t remember Hyejin. But that’s what happens when you’re trapped with the person you’re in love with. Feelings tend to tangle you up, choking you up until you’re forced to breathe because you’re suffocating on the inside from all the kept up emotions.
Despite everything, you were already demanding him, “Taehyung, go get showered and dressed.” You didn’t even spare him a glance as you walked past him. Your hands were trembling, head whirling, and broken pieces leading from Taehyung’s hands to wherever you were heading into now.
“Hey, wait.” He was trailing after you, hand encasing your arm to stop you. He held you back, managing to spin you halfway from the sudden momentum. His eyes were pleading, feet unconsciously nearing you. “Please, look at me. We need to talk abo—”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hold you back like that.” You blurted out, your trembling fingers taking off his hand from your skin. It was too much. You wouldn’t even dare to look him straight in the eye because you knew you were bound to cry and spill everything that your heart was just aching you to at this point.
“What?” he sounded incredulous, eyebrows furrowing as he slowly said the following words, “Don’t you ever apologize for spending time with me. I love being around you.”
Despite everything, you meekly wondered, “Really?”
His fingertips were already marking their way into your skin, comforting you without him meaning to. “So much that you make me forget life altogether.”
It was so messy. You wondered when everything in your life had become such havoc. How everything had spiraled out of control and you no longer were in reign over your emotions. The moment Kim Taehyung pranced into your life, you knew you were bound to be fucked. You didn’t expect to fall so in love with your best friend’s boyfriend. You just didn’t expect such heartbreak in return after this moment.
“Taehyung,” you croaked out, tears slipping past your cheeks. “I—”
“What is it?” He tried nearing you, but with each step he took you backtracked. “Just tell me already. I know you fee—”
“Hyejin,” was all you could muster out. You couldn’t do that to her. No way.
I love you, but you are not mine to love Kim Taehyung. At least, not in this lifetime.
You flung his hand away from you, already walking away from him, muttering out, “I’ll see you around.”  
 That same night you trailed your broken hearted soul back to Namjoon’s penthouse. His keys dangled on your fingers, mocking you with each step you took towards your own demise. He wasn’t there so that made it even worse. Namjoon had been your comfort, best friend, and soulmate since the first time you both met. In fact, your friendship was stronger than yours and Hyejin’s combined. Unfortunately though, he wouldn’t be there to hold you tonight and you decided it was okay. You figured you’d cook for the both of you whenever he decided to come back from girlfriend number four.
You knew going back to your place was a big, fat, fucking no. After all, Taehyung and Hyejin were probably celebrating their first grand anniversary together and you didn’t want to be there. No one wanted to witness who they were irrevocably in love with be someone else. It just reminded you of the heartbreak, sadness, and tears all over again. Sighing, you made your way inside, going into Namjoon’s room to retrieve your left over clothes from last time to change into. You didn’t want to be in clothes where Taehyung had left his mark on.
Fortunately for you though, Namjoon had arrived quite early from his date.
“I thought you weren’t going to be here.” You said with a mouth full of mint chocolate ice cream. Even though Namjoon despised that flavor with all the fiber in his body, he still always went out to retrieve some from you.
“I had a feeling you’d be a mess tonight so I brought this,” he said, lifting a recycling bag. His dimples were showcasing, eyes slightly squinted from how cutely he was smiling. “I went grocery shopping so we can make pasta!”
“Oh, well I made your favorite a while ago as well. How about you roll up this—” you brought up the baggy that was filled with weed. “And serves us some wine while I cook the pasta?”
He sighed, hand over heart as he melodramatically said, “Sounds like utter heaven.”
And that’s exactly what happened. He sat across from you, legs crossed with a blunt in his hand as he waited for his pasta to slightly cool down. You were already gone, loving the hazy effect it had on you. Soft music was playing and you were doing okay, but then a particular song came on that made you remember him all over again.
“I don’t know the situation between you and him, but it has you fucked over so badly. I’ve never seen you so head over heels over someone, much less a man.” Namjoon suddenly spoke up after watching you. There were tears already brimming in your eyes as you tried to blink them back.
“If I told you who it was you wouldn’t be this nice to me.” You quietly muttered out, avoiding his curious gaze. But you kept on forgetting who you were talking to after all. Namjoon was always one step ahead of you, he was only giving you space.
“You are my best friend, you idiot.” He fiercely reminded you, arms wrapping around you. “I know you like the back of my hand so whoever it is I know you’re not doing it on purpose to hurt yourself, or anyone else.”
“He’s just different. I don’t know what made me just fall into oblivion for him, but he makes me feel safe, secured, and at home.”
“But?”
You glanced down at your hands, heart aching to the point where you just wanted it to stop. “But he’s not mine, Namjoon. He belongs to someone else, and they are just so in love with each other.”
“It’s Taehyung isn’t it.” He didn’t ask, rather he stated it. At this point you weren’t going to deny it. After all, you were hell bent on not seeing him anymore after today. It was for the best. Your silence however spoke rather than your own words could. Tears were staining your cheeks, a choked up sob escaping from your lips. You hastily covered your mouth with your hands to prevent anymore, eyes screwing shut as the pain coursed through your body.
“C’mere,” Namjoon gestured you towards him and you instantly wrapped yourself around him like a koala. You leaned your head against his chest, your eyes fluttering to a close as he began to rock you in his arms, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.  You wondered how you had lucked out with finding Namjoon. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t feel and be this safe in his arms. This love you felt for him reminded you of how strong your bond was with him. He’d do anything to protect you just as you would as well. And right now seeing you sob against his chest broke your soulmate apart.
“Love is a bitch, y/n. But one thing I know is that if it’s meant to be, then it’s worth fighting for…the right way that is. Right now I know you feel this intense fervor of love you have for him won’t go away anytime soon, but I promise you it is.  Put some distance between you and him. If you find yourself going back to him, then all I can tell you is to talk to him. Talking does wonders, baby. ”
“It’s easier said than done. Also, Hyejin is my best friend and are you forgetting that Taehyung is still in love with her?”
He remained quiet. If Namjoon voiced out his real thoughts, he was sure he would just ignite the fire within your heart. So he sufficed with just holding you in his arms because this was the support you needed in this moment. You needed someone who could hold you and see through you. He figured Taehyung had dug deep beneath the depths of your secured heart and he wanted nothing than to go and ruin their precious little celebration. Regardless, he just hoped Taehyung was taken out of your life so you could get a whole of yourself again.
After midnight, your phone had begun to ring insistently. You were deep asleep, curled up in his covers as Namjoon stared at your phone. ‘Taehyungieee’ was the name flashing on the screen. Namjoon wondered what he wanted from you. No sane boyfriend would be calling their girlfriend’s best friend this late. He wondered just how you had developed these feelings for him and the answer was staring at him right on the face. The picture it flashed along with his name was you and him. You were on Taehyung’s back, arms lazily wrapped around him as you did bunny ears on him. His eyes were closed, but the huge grin plastered on his face made it evident that he was incredibly happy around you.  
So Namjoon grabbed a hold of your phone and answered the call.
He was already sputtering out nonsense as soon as he answered the call. “I know it’s late, but I need to tell you something. I—I, I did something tonight and the only person who I only want to see in this moment is you. I don’t know what I was thinking, but today just reassured me that you—”
Namjoon was having none of it. “She’s with me, Taehyung.” He sharply cut him off, anger evident in his voice. “So I suggest you to stop playing with her feelings before I personally go over to your place and beat the fuck out of you. I don’t wanna hear any of your bullshit when all you’ve done is hurt her recklessly. Leave her the fuck alone, you don’t deserve her.”
Namjoon hung up. Your phone was tossed somewhere behind him after he deleted the call. He sighed into his hands. Now he knew why. He wondered if Hyejin knew too. He wondered if she was okay because you surely weren’t and you weren’t even his girlfriend. He glanced over at you, wondering when your heartbreak would end.
 A week later, Taehyung had packed up everything and left. And in his wake, he had taken your heart with him too, the red string of your love attached to it, tangling until it was just a huge ball of sorrow.
  And it goes back to now.
It’s him who breaks the silence. You watched as he calmly bent down to drop his bags on the ground and once he stood up again, his dark brown eyes met yours. He seemed hesitant in approaching you at first, but you felt yourself take a step closer to him involuntarily. You honestly could not believe it.
“Taehyung,” you finally acknowledged him, eyes meeting his. The way he gazed at you reminded you of the time in the hallway where he was declaring to you so many beautiful words and you had realized you were fucking in love with him.
He slowly inched closer, his hands twitching at his sides. It was him who took the final step, his arms slowly raising rather tentatively. A flicker of eyes was exchanged between the two of you, almost fleeting. Your fingers were already raising, yearning to touch him because you just had to make sure that this was real. However, the second his hands met your skin, reality had set in. Eyes widened, breathing had halted, and Taehyung’s arms were pulling you into his embrace so desperately. You practically lunged yourself at him, all teary eyed and with quivering lips spilling his name.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” he breathed out, his hot breath raising goosebumps all over your body. “And I missed you so much.” He whispered it out, but you heard it so loud and fucking clear. You dug your face into the crook of his neck, hands inches away from the nape of his hair that had gotten longer. Your side was curled up into his, eyes closed to keep the feeling of this moment engraved in your heart.
His hand was placed at the back of your head, keeping you in place in his arms. Your fingers dug into his skin, your mind trying to wrap around the idea that he was indeed here. He was here, and you were finally in his arms once again. His arms were strongly wrapped around your body, pulling you flush against him. His scent was everywhere. It was invading your senses, your way of thinking, and reigniting those feelings that you tried to burn away. Everything was just bubbling up inside and now you had to worry about waiting for it to burst once again.
Your Taehyung was back.
You felt his hand slowly travel down your spine, his fingers tracing every curve of your body before enveloping you in such a tight, vice grip. You could hardly breathe and you didn’t know if it was due to the excitement, or because he was just holding you so close to him so tightly. The beating of his heart was erratic against your chest and you inhaled his scent, not fully believing that he was finally back after such a long period of time.
“You have no idea just how much I wanted to come back every time you came into my mind.”
And then your clouded, foggy mind soon returned all the sorrow, heartbreak, and tears you had suffered all at once. That brief happiness of seeing him, of being reunited with him, and having him hold you like this would never fill up the hole he had dug out of your heart.
“I’m sure you did,” you bitterly bit out at him, remembering the shit he had put you through. No matter how comfortable you felt being in his arms again, you were already pulling away from him. “That definitely seemed like it when you just left and didn’t say anything to me, or anyone for a fact.”
It was too much. Just two years ago he had walked into your life, made you feel butterflies and heartbreak all at once. Two years ago, he had begun dating your best friend and all you could do was play along, pushing a side your own feelings. A year ago, he broke your best friend’s heart and yours simultaneously. And now, he’s back.
“I’m sorry,” his eyes were deeply filled with concern. Those hands gently framed your face, his thumb wiping away a tear that had fallen. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me.”
You just shook your head and laughed a little at the situation you were in. He was pulling you back into his embrace but you just removed his hands from you. He wasn’t allowing you think again. Snapping out of your trance you snarled out, “Just stop! Stop touching me and let me go.”
Taehyung seemed as he had been punched. His grip on you weakened automatically, eyes shining with turmoil trapped in them.
“I’m leaving,” you mustered out, avoiding his gaze once again. You knew if you glanced into those eyes you were going to turn into putty and run back to him like nothing. That was something you didn’t need right now. He couldn’t just prance back into your life without facing the consequences.
“Hey,” he started, his voice filled with despair and urgency. “Please wait, please,” he pleaded and you shook your head, trying to clear his voice from your mind. His hand intertwined with yours, tugging you back to him.
Your eyes widened at the feeling of his fingers interlocking with yours. If you could kiss him right now, you would. Every inch of your body was yearning to pull him and just kiss him because no amount of words would ever put it through your heart just how much you adored this man.
“I’m sorry I left like that, but I’m back now and I want to make things right, okay?” He tried resonating with you, but you figured moving on was the only way to keep you and your poor, fragile heart safe. “Here isn’t the place to talk, but please give me a chance to come back into your life again and explain why I left like that.”
You slowly disentangled your fingers from him and Taehyung faltered. You just grabbed your bags and said, “I can’t let you back into my life, not when it was so hard to let you go when you left me behind so easily.”
 And with that said, Taehyung let you go.
 —-
 Tears spilled down your cheeks, and you knew your eyes were red and swollen, but you hadn’t felt any sort of emotion since he pranced into your life minutes ago. You were a blank canvas, but somehow Taehyung always managed to get you so beautifully painted with the brightest and warmest colors you could ever think of. Streaks of blues, purple, pinkish, orange and yellows hues adorned and blossomed from your soul, evolving as each day passed. All of these colors reminded you of how it felt to be around his presence. Of how it felt to slowly and all at once fall in love with a person.
“What’s wrong with you?” Hyejin murmured out, her arms were wrapped around you. She was leaning her head on your shoulder, eyes curiously gazing at you with worry. “I haven’t seen you this sad since last year.”
A bittersweet smile edged your lips. Of course destiny was cruel. To fall for a man who wasn’t, couldn’t, and still wouldn’t be yours. To be fair, falling for Taehyung came unexpectedly, but yet again everything with him was unexpected and beautiful in a sense that reminded you that you were alive and could feel.
“I’m fine, just tired,” you mumbled out, trying to not let your emotions get the better of you. How could you explain to her that the reason you were crumbling once again was due to the man who broke her heart on the day of their anniversary? 
The day they broke up Hyejin was enthusiastically telling you about how passionate and fulfilling that night was going to be so you spent the night at Namjoon’s again, trying to drown yourself with weed and food. The next day you found your best friend on the couch with makeup stains and the smell of alcohol oozing from her. She never really told you what went down that night but for a while your relationship with her had been strained. There were days where it was just silent. She wouldn’t face you, or even talk to you until a couple weeks passed by. The mentioning of Kim Taehyung was forbidden in the household you both shared together. That unspoken rule was what made everything okay between the two of you again.
“I’ll be back later if Namjoon cancels—”
“No,” you waved her off. “Go and enjoy your weird date with him. I just saw this stupid drama and it has me in my feelings. I’ll be fine. I’ll call Wheein later and see if she wants to get drunk together.”
“Yeah,” She said, grabbing a hold of her purse with a semi disgusted look on her face. “I definitely don’t wanna be here to see that go down like last time.”
“Have fun with Joonie! Tell that moron that I found my Nintendo 64 the other day!”
“He’s going to feel relieved that he didn’t actually break it, or misplaced it as you accused him of.” She narrowed her eyes at you and you simply glanced down at your phone, feeling attacked right now.
“To be fair it wouldn’t be the first time so leaveee me aloneee,” you whined out and Hyejin just shook her head.
“I’ll be back for dinner tomorrow so don’t go anywhere! I’m buying Chinese takeout tomorrow.”
“I’ll be here as long as you buy me food.” You dryly replied, being genuinely honest.
She smiled cutely, waving her finger at you quite adoringly in response. “Done.”
You felt like a proud mother watching her child go into her first day of school since Hyejin was enthusiastically waving at you. She was quick to tell you she loved you before she skipped out the door. A tiny smile managed to make its way on your face. You figured she’d be back in less than five minutes though since she tended to be forgetful at times. As in cue, the doorbell rang and you sighed.
“I asked you if you had your fucking keys and you—” your eyes met with the figure who was not in fact your best friend.
You almost screamed, but conformed to a whisper. “Taehyung?”
Upon seeing him, you immediately stumbled over your feet as you tried to close the door again. Taehyung’s response seemed out of reflex. His arms were already wrapping around you, catching you in seconds before your face could connect with the lovely ground. He held you protectively against his side, his eyes taking in your expression as you glanced up at him in shock.
“I see you haven’t changed one bit.” He retorteed, his voice echoing throughout the hallway corridor. You had forgotten the sound of his voice until you saw him again, and now he was standing outside of your apartment…with his arms around you.
“Hyejin isn’t here.” Your mouth automatically told him. It was always that fucking sentence. Every time he would come over Hyejin would already be at work, or out with her friends, or even going to his place. Taehyung was always at your place though, with or without her in the apartment.
He scoffed, and then began to softly laugh upon seeing your confused expression. “I’m not here for her.”
Oh. Your eyes widened at that. Oh.  His arms had gotten bulkier, his frame broader and you hated that you noticed that within the seconds that he was holding you. You gained footing again and pushed yourself out of his arms, backtracking into your apartment to refrain your dumb self from saying anything stupid.
“I went over to your old apartment last night, but instead I got met with an eccentric Chinese couple.”
You snorted, biting back a venomous retort. “I’m sure you had fun being introduced to their classic rock collection, eh?”
He was watching you, taking your reaction towards him as he carefully spoke. “That and they invited me over to dinner tomorrow since I was so charming in their eyes.”
Your mouth was set on a thin line, expression impassive. “You won’t look so charming once my fist connects with your face if you don’t tell me what you’re doing here.”
Despite that threatening comment, he grinned. “You’ve always been all bark so I highly doubt you’ll do that.”
He was right on that, but the anger you had stored inside you would beg to differ in this case. 
“I’m not here to fight though,” he quickly spoke, noting how you were seconds away from slamming the door on his face right now. “I’m here to say that no amount of words will ever take back what I did to you. I know what I did was unfair to you in every way and I’ll understand if you don’t want me back in your life. But let me tell you something y/n, during that time that I was gone I did a lot of self-thinking and it all led me back to you. The first thing I did once I stepped foot in this country was look for you, which is why I’m here. I’m sorry for leaving like that, for not explaining myself, and for hurting you the way I did.”
“You idiot,” you quietly uttered out before becoming more vocal once the anger seeped in. “I-I, how dare you try to prance into my life like nothing and think that an apology is going to fix everything? You were my person, Taehyung. You broke my heart once I realized that you had left and you weren’t coming back. For a year, I wondered what happened that made you leave me like that and—and—”
You felt your throat begin to burn as tears blurred your eyesight. Damn it. Hold yourself together.
“y/n...”
“You know what?” you sucked in air and blinked back the tears. “I wish you the best in life, but what you did I will never forgive you for.”
You slammed the door in his face with all the force in your body, causing the door to shake. It echoed through your apartment and you couldn’t hear him over the roaring waves of anger that clouded your senses overall. Despite you being so livid, the other part of you wanted nothing more than to open the door and let him inside once again. You knew what side could overpower the other one the moment you could clearly hear him once again.
“y/n, I’m sorry,” his voice cracked and you screwed your eyes shut, fingers curling into the palm of your hand. “Please,” he continued, twisting your heart more. “I’m not asking for forgiveness. I just don’t want to lose you. It was a hell of a year without having you constantly by my side.”
“Liar,” you instantly called his bluff.
You slowly approached the door, hand outstretched towards the door handle. Taehyung was outside your door, it wasn’t a dream anymore that you could wake up from. He was just a few feet away with a barrier between the two of you once again. And then your hand went limp besides your body, eyes screwing to a shut as you tried to allow your brain to do the thinking instead of your heart. Sighing, you simply leaned your forehead against the wooden floor, wanting nothing more than to have his arms around you.
Silence.
You wondered if he had given up and left.
“I’m going to wait here until you decide to open the door.” Nope, he hadn’t.
“I’ll call security.” You immediately bit out and all you heard was a quiet chuckled.
Out of gnawing curiosity, you watched through the peephole as he slid down and sat criss crossed facing your door. His phone sat next to him, faced down. He was simply gazing at your door now, not moving an inch.
“I’ll be waiting.”
You deliberately screamed at yourself to leave him there. You pried your fingers from the door handle, reprimanding yourself over being so incredibly stupid. So instead you occupied yourself with trying to clean, organize, and even fucking cook. But everywhere you went was full of memories of you and him. Despite you moving away from your old apartment, you still had the same couch where you both sat across each other, throwing popcorn, gummy bears, and m&m’s at each other’s mouths. The bed sheets where he had accidentally fallen asleep while you were running your fingers through his hair, listening to him talk about his shitty day at work. The pillows you both had initiated a pillow fight with at three am in the morning. The wine glasses of that summer night where you and he spent hours talking about everything and anything. Even now as you filled up a glass of water to pour it into the pot reminded you of how he would volunteer to help you cook.
“Here, let me just—” he leaned over you, his shirt raising above his belly button as he reached over to grab the glasses for sweet tea. Your eyes flickered over to his exposed skin and the urge to trace your fingers down his abdomen was so immensely strong that it frightened you completely. You felt heat warm up your cheeks as you decided to glance away from his glowing skin and rather turn your eyes towards him. But Taehyung’s gaze was already on you, glasses already in hand.
The proximity between the two of you was numbing to the heart and brain. He was so incredibly close, to the point where you could see the color of his irises. In that moment, your favorite color had gone from yellow to brown in seconds. He was trapping you in, body touching yours. His warmth envelope you and you swore you could count those pretty lashes on his eyes and you would not get tired of it. His eyes flickered down to your lips and you knew you weren’t breathing at this point.
“Strange,” he suddenly cleared his throat, and took a step away from you. He turned away from you and you took in a deep and necessary breath.
“What?” you uttered out, slightly ashamed. He caught you staring and was probably disgusted by you now. Even you were bemused at your sudden urge that hadn’t been there before. What the fuck was going on?
He turned to face you, seeming a bit struck himself. “I suddenly have the urge to paint.”
“Really?” you broke out into a smile, forgetting the moment all together. “Dude, that’s great!”
His awe was transparent as he warmly smiled back at you. “It really is.”
That night you realized Taehyung had begun to sneak his way into your heart. The first ever color to be tentatively painted on the canvas of your heart was the color brown.
 “Can you believe Taehyung has been ignoring me for the past few days?” Hyejin began to ramble on quite angrily. “So you know what I did the other day? I went over his place and he was inside this weird room, locked inside. He came out with paint all over him and proceeded to kick me out of his apartment, claiming he was too tired and busy.”
You continued writing down your notes, trying to stay focus on your assignment.
“…something about finally getting his fucking muse and whatnot. He was telling me about his drought the other night, but I think I fell asleep on him. However, what the fuck? It’s been almost a week now and he’s not even answering my c—”
She suddenly got a phone call and you thanked your lucky stars. Judging from the disappointed look in her face, it was clearly not Taehyung. She still answered the call and finally left you alone in peace.
From: Taehyungieee
I just finished my first ever painting since two years ago
   The cup of water suddenly slipped from your numb fingers and crashed all over the floor. It was a rude and uncalled awakening call for sure.
“Shit,” you said, immediately grabbing a hold of the broom to clean the mess up.
“Are you okay?”
And there he was: the rude, uncalled awakening call. It was startling you awake again, but did you really want to wake up? You’ve been asleep all this time, waiting with your broken heart at the palm of your hands. Did you really want to wake up just to have it punched, twisted, and hell bent over again?
“y/n, I need to know if you’re okay or—”
“I’m fine,” you croaked out, eyes watering. You were obviously not fine. And you weren’t going to be as long as he sat outside your fucking door. The anxiety of Hyejin coming back and seeing him suddenly struck a nerve. How would she react to him coming back after so long? You were barely hanging on right now. You even sat down beside the pile of broken glass, head leaning back against the cabinet. You ignored the pile you had amounted, waiting to be pricked by now.
As long as you were in love with him, you knew it was going to stir everything up in your life once again. You knew him coming back was something that you did not plan for. You weren’t the slightest prepared and it frightened you. The last time you were unprepared you fell deeply in love with a man who was not yours to keep.
It was past midnight when you decided to just see if he was still outside. The temptation of sliding him a plate of food was incredibly strong, but you held out. Now as you peered out the peephole you realized he was cold. He had his arms wrapped around his body and was slightly shivering. The best of part of you grabbed a hold of you and you grabbed a hold of your favorite blanket and rather quietly and slowly you opened the door. You found him resting against the edge of the door frame, sleeping. With light steps, you approached his sleeping figure before taking a seat next to him. You wrapped your blanket around him and yourself. With a poke to his cheek, you secured yourself that he was indeed passed out since he didn’t even flinch or stir. The silence welcomed you, bringing you so much peace as you quietly heard Taehyung’s breathing. It was in that moment of weakness that you momentarily allowed yourself to lean your head against his shoulder. 
He was back.
Taehyung.
Your mouth was already spilling your contained secrets.
“The only reason why I’m here is because I still love you, Taehyung.” You whispered it out, your fingers tenderly brushing away the bangs from his eyes. “I don’t think I ever stopped, or will if I’m being honest.”
You figured he was dead asleep so it wouldn’t matter.
And he was sound asleep. But as you glanced up at him, gathering each and every detail from his pretty face, you realized just how much you had missed him. There were nights where you would scribble away your heart out on a piece of paper in search for him. Tears were documented on those pages and your feelings were a mesh of words that only he could bring out of you. Kim Taehyung had definitely left a wound in your heart and now here he was beside you sound asleep, quickly patching it up and healing it with just his mere presence. God, you were an absolute idiot.
You stayed there with him for who knows long until he started moving. It was then that you instantly ripped yourself away from him and stood up in time for him to flutter his eyes open. A loud ass yawn emitted from his lips and he looked disoriented before his brown eyes landed on you.
“y/n,” he rasped out, immediately sitting up once again. His legs were wrapped up in your blanket and you watched how he realized he even had it in the first place. His fingers tentatively curled around it, tugging it closer to his body.
He wasn’t looking at you as he spoke up, sounding incredibly tired. “Do you want me to leave?”
Yes. Yes, was what you meant to fucking say.
You were gazing ahead of you, not turning towards him as you replied heavily, “No.”
Taehyung was immensely surprised and shocked. You were sure he was expecting you to kick him out for good once and for all like you should, but then he softly replied, “Okay.”
“It’s cold.” You quietly told him, already beginning to walk inside your apartment again. “Come inside.”
He trudged in behind you rather quietly, hands still curled around the blanket. You led him into the kitchen, pouring him a hot cup of green tea so he could drink. Alongside stood a plate full of food that had been obviously warmed up. Whatever he was thinking though, he didn’t utter a word out. His eyes didn’t meet yours. They were too focused on the steaming mug of tea and food.
“Drink this,” you said as you passed him the mug, your eyes flickering away from his intense gaze now. “You’re more than welcome to take the couch. My bathroom is down the hall to the right if you need it. And I want you out of here before 10 in the morning the latest.”
The way you spoke was monotone, firm, and was nothing compared to the sweet, kind hearted person Taehyung knew so well.
“Noted.”
You both finally met each other’s eyes. You held his gaze, hoping that in some way all your pain, tears, and heartbreak could be transferred so he would know how you felt for so long. Maybe then he would know the damaged he had done to you inside and out. However, that did not happen. Instead you felt your gaze blur, hands beginning to tremble from just how hurt you were so inside. You glanced away, shoving past him.
You didn’t turn around to notice the way his saddened gaze followed you all the way until you trapped yourself between another set of four walls, away from him.
It was four am.
You couldn’t fall asleep.
Your bed sheets were just not lulling you to sleep at this point. You were curled up on one side of your bed, hugging your pillow into your body for comfort. You laid there, feeling so empty and with so much emotion all at once. Your brain couldn’t exactly grasp it. Taehyung was literally down the fucking hall from you. He was just a few steps away from you. A few steps from wrapping his arms around you and making you feel like home once again.
A soft but rather small smile appeared on your face. At least he was safe and healthy. He looked so much better, glowing even. You then wondered how you looked. Did you look as you felt? Did he not hurt the way you did? Probably not.You sat up, legs already swinging off your bed. You were bound to drink some medicine so it could knock you out to the point where you’d wish you’d wake up with him already gone. You were already opening the door, ready to step out when you met Taehyung already outside your door, hand curled into a fist midair. 
“I—I fuck,” He sputtered out, hand falling beside his side. “I didn’t know you were awake.“
“Did you expect me to sleep soundly, Taehyung?” you genuinely prompted, the anger quickly igniting inside of you. Your voice was incredibly sweet, but dripping of venom. “Did you expect me to fall asleep so easily? Is that how you slept while you were away this time? Without a care in this fucking world? Liberated and running away like the coward you were and still are?”
Taehyung did not respond. His eyes had become watery as he barely spoke up, “I know what I did was shitty. I know what I did hurt you beyond believe. I can’t express just how much I was hurting too, okay? You think leaving was easy? You think being away from you was ever easy?”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” you finally spat out, causing him to flinch. “Don’t you fucking compare your pain to mine. You left without saying anything to me. You left nothing, nothing. Not even a single note, letter, or anything. And you left me wondering, stupidly worrying over you, but you obviously didn’t give a fuck. Instead you were living life in Venice ever so graciously.”
He was shaking his head to every word you were saying, disbelief written all over his features. “What do you mean, I didn’t give a fuck? Are you fucking blind, y/n? Did you honestly not know just how much you meant to me, and still do? For fucks sakes, I’m standing here, trying to apologize to you when I could be fucking other bitches, or even forgetting completely about you. So what the fuck do you mean by me not giving a fuck about you? And you’re pulling up Venice?”
His eyebrows were furrowing, trying to follow along. “You knew about me all this time? And you didn’t even try to at least contact me?””
“A friend of mine bought your painting and I recognized it the moment I saw it. And how could I after what she told me?” you bitted out, boring holes into him by now. “The world renowned artist, Kim Taehyung, an indie artist who lives in Venice. Happily living his life away with fucking bitches and enjoying his newfound wealth.” You recited the exact same thing Wheein had told you in her precise words.
She had burned the painting in front of you afterwards.
Taehyung simply scoffed and then began shaking his head in annoyance. “The Venice part is true, but in no moment did I ever touch anyone else that wasn’t you.”
“Stop,” you instantly warned him, his words becoming more of a blow that for some reason instead of consoling you it just kept adding to the flame inside your soul. “Stop saying things like that to me.”
“It’s true though,” he desperately urged out, sounding frustrated now. He ran his hands down his face, groaning as you seemed to be distancing yourself each time he opened his mouth. “Never once did I fuck anyone while I was over there. You wanna know why? Because my certain muse was waiting back home for me.”
“Fuck you!” you finally snapped, shoving him away from your entrance. “You don’t get to say shit like that when your actions prove you otherwise. Do you not see how you left me? I am here standing in front of you crying because I am a pathetic ass person who cared too much over someone who didn’t give a single fuck about me!”
His jaw ticked, seeming impassive and you fucking detested that. He never once showed an ounce of emotion and it always made you feel incredibly stupid. This time however, Taehyung finally snapped. “Don’t you fucking dare say I never gave a shit about you when I did. I showed you countless of times just how much you meant to me. For fucks sakes, I painted you so many times!”
He finally exploded, yelling back at you now. “Could you not fucking see it? How insane I was when you came into my life? You want prove?”
“No, what I want—”
“What?” He barked out and you bit the inside of your cheek, restraining yourself from physically assaulting him.
So you resonated with hurting him verbally instead. “I want you out of my life.” You decided, trying to convince yourself with that too.
“You sure you want that?” He challenged you and you were taken back by his assertiveness. It only infuriated you even more. Your fingers were curling up inside your palm, nails digging into your skin. The pain felt numbing compared to the bubbling hatred you were feeling inside. “If so, just say it straight to my face.”
Before you could control yourself, your fingers were fisting his shirt, crumpling it up as you brought him closer to you. He stumbled over, hand flying over to hold on to the doorway entry to stop himself from crushing you. You slowly gritted out with such defiance, “I. Want. You. Out. Of. My. Life.
By the time you were done uttering the last word out, your voice had begun to shake. Your fingers had loosen a hold of him and you felt utterly defenseless.
He leaned into you, getting on eye level, and lowly bit out, “And actually mean it.”
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Sev—
“Get out and never fucking come back into my life!” you exploded, yelling at him now. You were quick in releasing him and shoving him away from you. “Get out!”
He stood there, without saying a single word. 
“Get out of my fucking apartment, out of my life, and out of my existence.”
“But I don’t want to,” his voice cracked and you halted, your throat feeling on fire from how hard it was to not cry in front of him. “I don’t want you to give up on me when I am standing right here, ready to give you everything and much more. I am standing here, and I am not leaving until your hatred for me goes away.”
What did he mean by that? What the hell was going on?
His hair was a mess from letting his fingers tug at it and just the sound of his broken and desperate voice was making you crumble all over again. “I don’t want to leave when it’s been a hell of a fucking year not having you around me, not seeing you smile over the dumbest of things, and not being able to hold you. It’s killing me, y/n.”
Tears were already spilling down your cheeks before you could stop them. With the sleeve of your shirt, you hastily wiped them away from your face since you were not going to let him see you cry. But he was right there, and he was back. He was back after such a long time and he was right there.
“I hate you for making me feel this way,” you sobbed out, finally breaking. Your shaking hands tugged at the strands of your hair in utter devastation. “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I hate you so much Kim Taehyung. I hate you. I HATE YOU!”
Each word felt like a needle pricking into his heart, but seeing you break down like that? Taehyung wanted nothing but to beat the fuck out of himself as well.
“I am so sorry.” Tears were streaming down his face, he seemed at lost for words. “I am so fucking sorry.”
You both were unconsciously edging closer. As you were screaming at him how much you hated him, he was nearing you, his cries of  ‘I am so sorry’ contradicting yours. His hands tentatively framed your face, foreheads pressed against each other’s as you sobbed.  He was so careful in touching you. You felt his fingertips ghost your face so gently, the pad of his fingers wiping your tears away as he brokenly croaked out, “I hate myself for making you cry. I hate myself for leaving you like that, and I will continue to hate myself as long as you cry over me because I don’t deserve your tears, y/n.”
“Just—” you hiccupped, hands encasing over his. Your grip on him tightened, eyesight blurred and throat burning. “Just hold me, Taehyung.”
“Please, j-just hold me,” you sobbed out and Taehyung was wrapping his arms around you before you could finish that sentence. His hands were encasing your head, his mouth on your hair as he tried his best to mend you back into the person you were before he came into your life.
All your pain, hurt, and heartbreak had seeped into his veins. His own feelings had intensified and seeing you break down like that was enough to render him straight down on to his knees.  Being in Venice was hell. He was alone and his thoughts were constantly full of you and only you. There were times where he impulsively would try and run back into your arms, but he stubbornly reminded himself that you were better off without him. Seeing you now with your face dug into the crook of his neck, fingers digging into his clothes, he realized just how fucking wrong he had been.
Your feelings were as evident as ever and he blamed fate for separating you both like that.
“I’m sorry,” he held you close to him, whispering it until it was engraved in your mind. “Please forgive me, I’m so sorry. Give me a chance, give me a chance to prove just how much you mean to me. Please, just one. And if that doesn’t work, then I’ll let you go.”
You sighed, you were too drained. You felt completely exhausted, but Taehyung was running his fingers through your hair, still apologizing to you with tears in his eyes. At one point the both of you had slid down against the wall together. His hold on you would not loosen and by now you were resting your head against his chest, his breathing luring you to sleep as each minute passed. You were sitting in between his legs, eyes fluttering to a close.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he continued, sniffling. “I never meant to hurt you, please know that. Please, please know that none of this was intentional. I—, I, lo—”
“Okay,” you mumbled out, tilting your head back against his chest to glance at him. He glanced down, lips centimeters away from yours but you didn’t falter. “One chance. One chance to prove to me that all of what you’re saying is true. Actions tend to speak louder than words, Taehyung.”
“Okay, okay,” he was quick to agree. “One chance is all I need. And I’ll prove it to you, okay? Not for me, but for you.”
You returned back to your original position. You made yourself comfortable in his arms, eyes finally closing. A soft plead left your lips, “Are you going to leave in the morning?”
“Not unless you kick me out.”
You were out like a light after that.
 Hours later with the sun peeking in through the window sliding doors, you slowly stirred yourself awake. As you began to blink yourself fully awake, you realized you were no longer on the hallway floor, but on your bed. And Taehyung was beside you, hot breathing fanning the back of your neck. His arms were not only wrapped around you, curling you further into his own warmth, but his fingers had intertwined with yours as well. Never in your dreams, would you have imagined the day you’d wake up and realize you were still in Taehyung’s arms.
He didn’t leave.
He didn’t, but you needed to. It was almost noon and you knew your best friend would come barging in through that door in an hour or so. You heard him softly exhale, fingers twitching in your hold. He was waking up. You immediately closed your eyes, relaxed more into him, and evened out your breathing.
“I won’t fail you again.” He whispered out, fingers slowly pulling away from yours. You had your heart lodged in your throat, feeling him pull away. It was seconds later when you felt his fingers tracing yours, trailing up your arm, and then going back down. His touch must work wonders since you were lulled back to sleep in seconds. The second time you woke, he was gone. A note was messily written on your night stand and just as you were about to read it, Hyejin barged into your room.
“You deadass just woke up now? It’s two in the afternoon!”
You curled the note underneath your hand, your eyes zooming in on the jacket behind her. It was Taehyung’s jacket. Did he leave it behind? Will Hyejin turn around and recognize it?
“Y-Yeah,” you stammered out, screwing your eyes shut at being so damn obvious. “I- I think I smoked a little bit too much last night.”
“Well, hydrate yourself then.” She reprimanded, seeming worried now. “I’ll serve you some water, okay? Also, Joonie is out there and he brought us lunch!”
Oh fuck. Not only was she here, but Namjoon as well? You waited for her to leave your room until you uncurled the note.
‘I’m in your closet’
“Taehyung,” you gasped out and quickly ran over to your closet. You pulled the door open and saw him sitting there, playing Overwatch on his damn phone.
“I was going to wake you when I heard them, but then I heard her calling your name so I had a few seconds before I could write that and get in here,” he  sheepishly admitted and you found yourself grinning like an idiot at him despite everything.
He hadn’t left.
“I can give you a five minute window for you to make it out through the door. You’re going to have to be really fucking quick.”
“Damn it, y/n.” He began to then crawl out of the closet, mumbling nonsense into the air. “Okay, but before we do all of this, can you come over to my place tonight?” He was standing down, towering over you slightly.
“That quick?” you dryly humored out and Taehyung bit down on his bottom lip.
His next sentence was what did it for you. “You said I have one chance. It’s been 393 days since we’ve last seen each other and I’m not going to waste any more time between us.”
Your gaze met his. “I’ll text you when I’m there.”
Getting him out of there wasn’t exactly easy. You gathered Namjoon and Hyejin into her room, slamming the door shut behind you. How did you even manage to get them in the same room? Well you accused Namjoon of stealing your favorite chips and went over to complain to Hyejin who was already in her room.
“I did not touch your fucking chips,” he continued to defend himself, eyes narrowing. “This is called defamation and I will sue you, you nimrod.”
“This is called defamation and I will sue you,” you openly mocked him, knowing this would grate his nerves.
“You little—”
“You see!” you extended your arm, wiggling your finger at Namjoon as Hyejin seemed utterly done with the both of you. “He called me a bitch! Tell your boyfriend to stop stealing my food and calling me degrading names.”
“I did not call you a bitch.”
“Whatever,” you waved him off.
“Did smoking too much bud suddenly shorten the two brain cells you still had left?” He retorted, his index finger tapping the side of your head. “Hellooo, I know you’re already working hard, but can you try a little bit more?”
With slit eyes you slowly began approaching him. “I will castrate you in your sleep and choke you with your own—”
“Hey, hey!” Hyejin tried cutting in between the two of you.
“You’re on your period, right? That’s why you’re acting bitchier than usual.”
“Woah, woah!” Hyejin interrupted, a scowl placed on her lips. “Did you just pull that fucking card with two women in the room?”
Namjoon sighed, seeming utterly irritated, “I forgot what happens when thing number one joins thing number two.”
“You’re on fucking time out, Kim Namjoon.”
The five minute mark had passed.
“It’s okay.” You waved at them, but they were too busy debating between the two of them now. “I just remembered I ate them last night while I was high as fuck, whoops!”
It’s not like they heard you since they had begun bickering. Namjoon was actually sitting in the corner, face against the wall as they both tried to throw their opinions at each other. Without saying anything, you tiptoed your way out of there. Now all you needed was time to get ready for what was about happen tonight.
  -------
On the way to his new apartment, you wondered what would be the end of this story. Would you finally move on and leave? Would you finally be able to forget Kim Taehyung? You entered his penthouse, eyeing the place wearily as you made your way inside the low dimmed place. You then came to a slow stop once you came into view of the living room.
Paintings. You were surrounded by paintings of you.
From portraits, to abstract paintings, and even old sketches. El Museum de Amor was what it was written so intricately right on the center of his new wall. Judging by the new glamorous penthouse, you knew that it was him who wrote it. Your eyes brimmed with tears, an incredulous laugh emitting from your lips. Your trembling hand cupped your mouth in awe and utter shock. You were in utter disbelief since there was no way Taehyung had kept these hidden for so long. Each painting differed from one another, but one thing for sure was that his colors never did. He painted you with purples, pinks, blues, yellows, and a mixture of brown colors, enhancing you with the most beautiful, pastel colors.
Paintings of you doing daily, tribal things surrounded you, and you could tell they were old. Some included you with delicately made flowers surrounding you, enhancing the beauty that you never knew he saw in you. You traced the portrait, his emotions coming to life in your eyes after so long of waiting. It was as if you were seeing yourself through his eyes and all you saw was love. One thing that you noticed was how Taehyung had managed to beautifully shade in the stars in every single one of his paintings of you.
You are you’re own entity. You shine so brightly, silly. 
“I not only fell in love with you,” Taehyung spoke up, coming into view now. “But I fell irrevocably in love with painting you.”
You flipped a painting over, hands still shaking.
My muse, Silly.
It reminded you of the interview Wheein had showed you and Hyejin, which then proceeded by them two burning the painting together. Watching them set it on fire, tore you completely apart. Wheein was holding the painting as Hyejin held the lighter in her hand. You felt like an outsider just awaiting for the destruction that was about to commence. Hyejin lividly poured gasoline on it, screaming at an inanimate object until the tank was completely empty. Then she set it on fire and you could see the glimmer in her eyes as she watched it crumble beneath her fingertips.
 “Who is this mystery person?”
“Someone who I’ve tried to forget.”
“She must be very special then, since you know, to have the famous Vante painting her so intimately and beautifully.”
Taehyung was turned towards the screen, a saddened spark in his eyes.
“She is indeed. She was and still is my only muse and inspiration.”
 “I hated you for leaving me like that,” you suddenly told him, turning to face him. He was already behind you and you were ready to step into what was Kim Taehyung as a person. But first, there were still some questions unanswered. “Hyejin told me you both broke up and then when I went to see how you were doing you had packed up your bags and left.”
He was frowning now, eyes blazed. “I went to say goodbye to you but Hyejin told me you had gone out of town.”
“Well yeah,” you frowned, finding it all weird. “I left Sunday.”
His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I went Friday.”
“We weren’t exactly on speaking terms when you left.” You clarified, still finding everything so uncorrelated and coming to terms at the same time.
“Fuck,” he swore underneath his breath. “Did you receive what I left there for you?”
“No?”
“It was the painting you left that day. I got it back the next day, you know, after Namjoon answered your phone that night.”
It was your turn to look in disbelief, “What?”
“The night that I broke up with Hyejin I called you and Namjoon answered.”
You began shaking your head, finding everything so confusing. “But, but there was no call from you that n—”
“I called you that night to tell you that I was in love with you.”
Oh fuck.
“The reason we broke up that same night was not necessarily because I wasn’t the same person when we met, but I had fallen in love with someone else.”
Staring at all the delicate and intricate paintings, you began to feel all of your questions being answered. The timing between the two of you was just incredibly fucked up.
“And rather than leading this relationship on, I was honest with her and that’s that. I broke up with her because the thought of not being with you was suffocating me so fucking much.”
You were blinking back tears, feeling so distraught by how much shit you both had been through because of the timing and uncertain events.
“So tell me why it took us this long to get to here then?” you said, sounding so heartbroken. “Tell me why in my dreams was the only way I could get to hear you say that you loved me?”
Everything was a mess, but here you both were. Taehyung was standing here in front of you, asking for another chance and here you were ready to give it to him. You were ready to dive back into him, hoping that this time you wouldn’t end up with a heart broken into bits of pieces. You were ready to fall even more in love with him. You knew it was possible.
“I love you,” he breathed out against your mouth, hands becoming firm on your hips now. There it was, the confirmation you’ve been desperately waiting for. His whole body was pressed against yours and your mind was racing as his eyes met yours.
“I am so stupidly and blindingly in love with you. It’s you who I’ve been trying to forget, but I can’t. No matter how hard I try to forget you, to forget the way you smiled at me, how your body was made for me, and how incredibly beautiful you are inside and out. I just fucking can’t.”
I love you.
“The reason why I left? I left because I was in love with you, y/n. I was in love with someone who I didn’t deserve. Someone who I have hurt so much in the process while I was with someone who I never truly loved. And I figured disappearing from your life would be better, but I didn’t mean to hurt you the way I did. I thought that doing this was going to be good for you and you’d be able to finally be happy.”
“Why?” you demanded, pushing him away from you. “Why couldn’t you have just talked to me like a normal human being instead of leaving this country and erasing yourself from my life like that? What the fuck were you thinking Taehyung?” your voice cracked, but the anger inside of you was finally dripping from your fingertips. 
“Do you have any idea how it felt to be in love with someone who wasn’t mine? To watch you with my best friend wishing that it was me in your arms instead of her? And then you leaving like that? Make me happy?” you scoffed. “Taehyung I was lost for so long and it’s not fair. You don’t get to decide what’s good for me. I get to decide that and if I strongly believe that it’s you, then it’s going to be fucking you.”
“You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long.” He slowly breathed out, inching closer to you now. “To—” he paused, tentative hands slowly inching closer to your face.
The pad of his fingers softly graced your face, awaiting your reaction before softly whispering, “To touch you like this.”
“Then do it Tae,” you whispered it out, hands cupping his face to have him closer to you. You softly brushed your lips against his, eyes fluttering to a close. “Please.”
His eyes glanced into yours before slowly fluttering to a close. Mouth softly molded against yours, his lips being tentative at first. But as Taehyung slowly kissed you, his hands wandered down your sides, carefully beginning to touch every curve of your body. Your heart soared as your lips heaved a gentle sigh into his mouth. You hadn’t felt so much emotion being put into a kiss, but yet again this was the man you were so in love with. His lips were tender and rendering you down so quickly, making your legs turn to mush and jelly all at once. It was slow and gentle, everything you ever hoped it would be with him. And then he abruptly pulled away from you, touch and sensation leaving with him.
There was a pause between the both of you as you both struggled to get a grip of one another. Something about the air was different as fleeting glances passed between the two of you. All you could do was stare intensely back at him as you both breathed in each other’s air from the proximity. And then as Taehyung gazed into your eyes with such fervor intensity, something clicked between the two of you.  Soul, heart, and passion vibrated throughout your body at the sensation of his touch because he was everywhere all at once. His fingers were already tangling themselves into your hair, tugging insistently as his mouth roughly met yours. Mouths clashed and pants began to emit from the both of you. A moan slipped past your lips at the sensation of his soft lips because it was finally happening. His cologne invaded your senses, making you even more stupid dizzy for this man.
His mouth missed yours from the excitement and his hot breath fanned against your skin as he nudged his knee between your legs, hoisting you up on his thigh, and pressing you further into him. Your skirt managed to ride up your thigh and Taehyung definitely did not miss the red, lacy thong adorning you so well.
“Much better,” he lowly breathed out against your mouth. You could feel his boxy grin against your lips and then you were kissing him again, melting and molding to his sync in just a few seconds. Soft moans emitted from you, body reacting before your already brain dead self could. You managed to wind up your arms around his neck, fingers pulling at the nape of his hair so desperately. His tongue was already slipping past, mouth sensually sucking down on your bottom lip.
Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung.
Fingers left his hair and instead wandered down his chest, hastily beginning to rip his shirt apart since you needed to feel him. And Taehyung didn’t seem to mind it one bit since his lips never detached from yours as he aided you in those fleeting moments.
“Here, silly,” he mumbled it out against your lips, eyes fluttering to an open. A laugh emitted from his lips upon realizing just how utterly impatient you were in that moment.
He was just so undeniably hot. With his curly hair matted up, swollen pretty lips, white dress shirt ruffled and almost off his body, and the tone of his tan skin glowing under the dim lighting by his candles. This man was effortlessly so beautiful and he just confessed to you about being his fucking muse. You eyed his button up shirt was and hurriedly tugged it down without wasting any more time. You wanted to get to the part where he was pinning you against his mattress and fucking your insides out.
“When you left,” you began and he was nearing you again. Hands framed your face ever so delicately with his pretty adorned silver ring hands. “I wanted to go after you, but you weren’t mine to yearn for.”
“But I was,” he lowly admitted to you with earnest sincerity. He was breathing into you as his lips met yours. “Since the moment I met you, I was already yours.”
His gaze was enough to set your whole soul on fire. Hands felt all tingly, head was dizzy but not from the buzz, and all you wanted at the moment was him. In your mind all that echoed was his name, Taehyung. You felt bewitched as he nudged your nose with his, hot breath fanning your face. You felt his fingers twitch, and with one last glance you simply stood on the tip of your toes, and softly pressed your mouth against his.
You felt him smile against your mouth and that immediately made your heart blossomed. As your hands slowly began to wander up his chest, you felt a soft pink hue being gently stroked against the canvas of your heart. It was light and sincere and tentative. And as Taehyung deepened the kiss, that soft pink darkened.
All thoughts were wiped free from your mind as his lips began to trail down the side of your neck, sucking and marking to his liking. It was then Taehyung’s hands grasped the back of your thighs, swiftly lifting you up. With a knee nudged between your thighs, he backed you up against the wall, pressing himself against you. A soft gasp emitted from your lips since he was right there again, lips barely brushing yours so tentatively and slowly. Hot air fanned your face, and the way he was gazing at you made your insides quiver in delight and your poor heart stutter.
“I can feel how wet you are for me, baby,” he purred out, fingers mischievously dancing up your thigh. You were watching his teasing movements like a fucking hawk, just waiting for him to do something you already.
“y/n.”
You glanced up and Taehyung was just gazing into you so intensely, halting you.
His fingers caressed your body, slowly wandering up before encasing your face in his large, veiny, and pretty hands. With a clear and low voice, he said, “Do you want me as bad as I want you?”
You happily wrapped your arms around his neck, a dazed smiled plastered all over your face. Taehyung definitely didn’t miss that since he was kissing you all over again. Taehyung hadn’t moved a muscle though and it dawned upon you that he was waiting for confirmation once he quirked an eyebrow, eyes telling it all. You almost laughed since here you were, practically kissing the crook of his neck and eagerly waiting for him to bend you over and do his worse.
“Yes,” you spilled it into his mouth without hesitation. “Yes, yes, yes.”
“Okay.”
A moment of realization dawned upon the both of you, but you figured you’d deal with this later. Right now, what you wanted was standing right in front of you and you were bound to get it once and for all.
“Lead the way,” you breathed out against his lips.
“Okay then,” he confirmed, beginning to lead the both of you into his bedroom. One hand was placed along your back while the other was set on your ass, gently squeezing. He groaned upon feeling the lace that was barely covering you, and you could feel him harden underneath you.
With a kick to the door, he swung it open and gave you a last peck on the mouth before gently laying you down on his king sized bed. He didn’t turn on the light, but you propped yourself up, watching as he roamed around his room, fingers running through his long hair. His back was facing you and you could feel your heart accelerate since even in the dim lighting, you could still make out his broad shoulders and defined back. He had definitely changed physically.
He arched an eyebrow, a smirk making its way already. “You want me to fuck you with your clothes on, baby?”
“I preferred if you take them off.”
“Oh?” He boyishly grinned. “Is that so?”
You simply let yourself fall back against the covers, teasingly spreading your legs for him. You heard a sharp inhale, followed by a guttural moan. You were beginning to shimmy out of your shirt when suddenly Taehyung was already climbing on the bed, hovering over you. Hands firmly encased yours, pinning them above your head.
“You’re killing me,” he whispered it out against your lips, eyes slightly darker. “I’ll strip you naked, then. If that’s what my baby wants, then I’ll give it to her.”
My baby.
His hands ripped your shirt open and you gasped in surprise. Taehyung watched as your expression went from instant shock to what seemed to be a slightly frightening pissed off one in just seconds. Your hands were already beginning to shove him away, since that shirt happened to be a favorite and he just ripped it like nothing. “Dude, why?” your eyes had turned to slits and Taehyung knew he had fucked up.
So naturally, he quickly began to spill out, “I’m sorry, fuck. I’ll buy you another one, shit, I’ll buy you whatever the hell you want tomorrow, okay? My wallet is yours.”
Your pissed expression suddenly wavered into a tiny pout and he knew he was in the clear now. “Okay,” you slowly relented, rolling your eyes. “You’re definitely buying me this exact same shirt.”
“Deal.”
“Okay now undress me,” you whined out suddenly and he definitely had no problem in complying with that. You watched as Taehyung practically moaned at the sight of you in just a maroon coated corset. He didn’t even need to take off your skirt to notice the matching set, nor the garters that complimented you so fucking well.
The corset tied around your body, almost like a present to him.
“My little present, huh? Can I unwrap you now?”
“Please,” you impatiently whined out.  
He bent down where the end of the red silky string ended. With his teeth, he grazed your skin as he teasingly dragged it down, slowly unraveling you to him with such ease. You could feel his hot breath fan against your skin. He stopped suddenly, his gaze just wandering your body from head to toe in such awe. His attention to detail was definitely there since his artistic eyes were just brushing and tentatively painting your body with his gaze alone. It was when your hands were coming around to cover yourself when he snapped out of his stupor.
“Nope,” he kissed you, pinning your hands away from your body. “My art.”
“I—” you began, stunned.  
“So beautiful,” his lips were kissing your thoughts away. And then they were marking  away down the base of your throat, licking down on your collarbones, and then his lips immediately went to your nipple, tongue swirling momentarily around it. You squeezed your thighs, trying to find some kind of release as he puckered his lips and sucked. He was definitely enjoying himself since you found him humming along to whatever song was playing. Your brain was muffled by the sensation of his lips to recognize the song he was so keen on singing along to.
“So pretty,” he languidly purred out, a teasing grin laced on his pretty face. He was watching you, tongue swirling around your bud as you both gazed into each other’s eyes. You softly moaned, hands desperately beginning to search for his body. You just wanted to hold him, to feel him against your body, and to feel his lips grace yours so hotly and animalistic simply because you craved for him.
You’ve been yearning for him for so long that all you wanted was to feel him move inside of you.
“Taehyung, I need you to fuck me already,” you heaved out, your impatience getting the better of you.
However, Taehyung was quick to hover over you, pinning your arms against the bed as his lips grazed yours. He was dizzying you again, causing your head to spin from the proximity.  “I am appreciating my art. So you’re going to wait until I am fucking done, understand?”
You thickly swallowed, nodding. He didn’t take that as an answer though. “I didn’t hear you, love.”
“Yes,” you whimpered out and Taehyung’s grin just made your thighs a dripping mess.
He was already in between your legs again, tongue lapping up every single drop. Hands were firmly splayed against your hips, keeping you still as his puckered lips sucked on your clit without pausing. Oh, oh my fucking god. Taehyung was quick to catch on your mannerisms, figuring out the way your body worked with such ease simply because he already knew you inside and out.  Watching as you propped yourself on your elbows, mouth opening and closing frantically. These loud ass moans could rival a pornstar and Taehyung couldn’t breathe just from how hard his dick was.  
“Oh God,” you softly gasped out, your body jerking slightly at the movement of his fingers. Slick covered your ass and thighs as Taehyung pumped in two digits inside of you. He curled them inside of you and you knew his hands were more than capable of making you cum with such ease. You loved his hands and watching his fingers disappear inside of you so harshly, as if you were being used to his liking excited you more than you could think of.
“Oh fuck!” you choked out, fingers fisting the sheets beneath you. “Tae, I’m so close, so close, soclosesoclose.” You screwed your eyes shut, crying out as he replaced his fingers with his tongue. With a few strokes and a mild slap to your cunt, you jerked forward and came without a warning.
Oh fuck, so this is what you’ve been missing. Your breathing was in pants, legs shaking, and head spinning. Taehyung definitely knew what the fuck he was doing. And that fucker just laughed, hands massaging your thighs.
“You done for the night?” he teased you, boxy smile growing. “Wanna take a shower and go to bed, Grandma?”
“Fuck you,” you laughed as you managed to sit up. Your body was practically yearning for more at this rate. You just didn’t want to boost his goddamn ego. He was good, great even if he could make you see stars with just his hands and mouth. You wondered if you would pass out if he fucked you now.
“That’s the plan, baby,” he cheekily replied, winking at you even. You didn’t know what to do besides smacking your hand on his forehead and trying to push him away from between your legs.
“Oh no, no.” He tilted his head to make your hand slip down his face instead. He bit your palm and rasped out, “I gotta clean all of my mess first.”
With his hand, he motioned for you to lay down and you did as you were told.
“Tae,” you tugged at his hair, trying to get him on top of you instead, but Taehyung was busy kitty licking you clean, softly singing, “If you want it, you can have it.”
His mouth hovered over your sensitive bud, slightly nudging it with his tongue. You dug your heels into his bed, getting worked up all over again. Then he proceeded to challenge you, “You think I can make you cum again, baby?”
“Uh huh,” you nodded without thinking, chest beginning to raise and fall. His grin was wicked, yet charming. His mouth though kept slurping away the mess he had made out of you. He hummed against your hole and your legs quivered at the sensation.
“Tae, please,” you began, pushing him away with your hands.
He raised an eyebrow, tongue sweeping his bottom lip.  “Yeah?”
“I want you to fuck me already, goddamn it.” You exasperatedly told him.
“I think, I’ll fuck you with these on,” he smirked, fingers hooking underneath your red garter. Just the sensation of his fingers on your skin, ignited the anticipation inside of you.
Do whatever you please, just fuck me already.
His hands were already unbuckling his belt, whipping out before throwing it behind him. His gaze alone made you swallow thickly since the way he just looked at you told you what he was planning to do to you. Once his pants and underwear were gone, you were already meeting him on the edge of his bed, hands sliding up his arms.  You stood before him, smiling so widely.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” you sincerely uttered it out, finding yourself breathless once meeting his eyes.
He caressed your cheek, arm winding around your body to pull you flush against him. “If I could capture the essence of how beautiful you are, I wouldn’t share it to the world. Call me selfish for wanting you all for myself, but it took us three years to get here where I can finally call you mine.”
He was lifting you up once again, gently placing you down on his mattress. You could feel his cock press against your stomach and you simply welcomed him between your legs so naturally.
“You sure?” He asked once again, trying to reaffirm himself in a sense.
“Make me yours,” you said without hesitation, games and teasing falling off the table now. Your heart, mind, and body were in unison as you kissed him immediately to reassure him that it was okay.
As your mouth deliciously met his, he slowly slid into you. He swallowed your moan in his mouth, hips bottoming down against your body. A grunt emitted from his mouth as you squeezed around him, starting to milk his cock. His hands had gotten busy with your hair, fingers tangling themselves as he slowly began to push himself into you. All you could do was muffle your moans by biting down on his shoulder, nails digging into his side. He was in between your legs, hips sensually moving against your body. Finally. You could feel his cock move against you and your toes were curling at the sensation of having him finally fuck you dizzy like you always wanted. Your mind was whirling and your body sighed in contentment. His weight on top of yours, his hands roaming down your body, and the feeling of his soft pants emitting on to your lips was just too much. Taehyung was praying nonsense into air, he too was getting senseless and lost inside of you.
“Oh god,” you whimpered out softly, hot pants heavily emitting from your lips. His cock pulsed against your tight hole, driving shameless whimpers from you over and over until he was the only thing engraved in your mind.
His big hands were splayed against your thigh, fingertips slowly dragging down your skin, squeezing and marking to his liking. His mouth ghosted across your neck, sucking and grazing his teeth between your breasts.
“Yes, yes, fuck,” you moaned out, practically shivering against him. He was a quiet lover, except for an occasional grunt and soft moans that vibrated against your warm skin.
“Oh fuck,” he moaned out, his hips grinding against yours. He was gripping on to your thigh, fingers tugging at your garter so harshly that it started to slide down.
“I—Ah, ngh, Taehyung,” you were practically mewling. And Taehyung was relentless as he kissed you suddenly to swallow the whimpers emitting from your lips because he felt he was going to cum at the sounds you were making just for him.
“You’re so loud for me baby,” he cooed out, shamelessly praising you. “My baby is so responsive for me, so fucking hot.”
“Mhm,” you ate it all up, hands greedily marking his back as he slammed inside of you. His hips were rolling down, practically grinding against your pubic bone.
“Paint your pretty body with my hands,” he hotly sucked the tip of your earlobe, earning a sharp inhale from you as your response. “With my lips,” he continued, his lips softly ghosting your skin. “mark you and brand you with my name written all over you skin.”
“Yes, yes, do whatever you want,” you whimpered out, legs beginning to tremble.
He suddenly cupped you’re face rather firmly, momentarily slowing down his movements. As he slowly panted out each word, he rolled his hips, hitting your sensitive spot over and over again. “You’re mine, you hear me? No one can touch you but me.”
Done.
“I’m yours,” you shameless repeated it to him, eating up everything that was leaving his pretty mouth. “Ah, I, ah always been.”
“Yes?”
“Yes,” you instantly moaned out. Taehyung’s fingers were tracing your lips, watching as he fucked you silly and you responded to his demands so easily.
“Suck,” he demanded, and you happily obliged. With puckered lips, you swirled your tongue around his finger before sucking briefly.
“I know my baby can take more,” he cooed out, slowly deep throating his fingers down your throat. You gagged around his long, slender fingers, soon hollowing out your cheeks to fully take them in rather happily. He was quick in sliding them in and out, letting you do all the dirty work. And you happily obliged to his bidding, coating his pretty and delicate fingers with your saliva.
“Such a pretty, messy baby,” he groaned out at the sight of you. He removed his fingers from your mouth and with his pretty tongue, he licked and sucked to your echoing moans.
He used your headrest as leverage, hips grinding against yours as low, guttural moans left his pink lips. His eyes were screwed shut and you clenched so deliciously around him that he let out a small ‘oh fuckohfuckohfuck’ in return.
“I’m so close,” you cried out, legs wrapping around his waist. Your heels were digging into his skin, fingers pressing into every curve of his body. He moved your body against the bed, chest pressed against yours, hands beginning to intertwine with yours. Foreheads were pressed against each other’s and you both were breathing in the same heated, desperate for release of air into each other’s mouths.
“Yeah?” He panted out against your mouth, hips stuttering as you felt your body jerk. “Is my baby close?”
“Mhm,” you whimpered out again, back beginning to arch off the bed. Your heels were digging into his ass and tears began to prick your eyes from the intensity.
“Taehyung,” you cried out, eyes squeezing to a close. Legs had begun to tremble, toes were curling, and then your body stuttered and all you could feel was a hot blazing white overwhelming you.
Taehyung came with your name in his mouth and lips desperately finding yours. Your fingers instantly lost themselves into his hair, body melting and molding with his. He was still in between your legs, arms encasing you whole. His arms slid beneath yours, hands still tugging at your hair as you breathlessly continued to kiss him.
“I am so love with you, you know?” he suddenly sprung up on you, voice laced with so much emotion. His voice was breathy, and low. 
You simply gazed at him, happiness overwhelming you wholeheartedly.
“Taehyung, I am so in love with you,” you softly told him, your fingers tenderly caressing his face. “Since the moment you walked into my life, I have been in love with you.”
As he gazed at you with stars in his eyes, you remembered what he had told you the first day you had met him. How he had contradicted your viewing of how the stars seemed like background. In a sense, you felt as if you were the stars, sometimes covered by clouds, dying with time, and overlooked because you were always there. And then he came into your life and showed you that the stars were magnificently beautiful in every way. 
“Have you ever considered that the stars alone don’t need the sun and the moon? They are their own separate entity. They shine brightly with, or without them.”
“They are uniquely beautiful. And the whole romance between the sun and the moon is bittersweet since yeah they were once together in a sense, but they don’t complement each other. The stars do.”
“I love you, silly.” He softly reminded you once again, nose nudging yours so sweetly.
You brought him down towards you, kissing him as you confessed into his lips, “And I love you.”
It was during the time where the sun started peeking in through his blinds that you laid wide awake. Taehyung was sound asleep, arms around your body, lips on the crook of his neck, and you could feel his even breathing on your skin. His hair was all matted up from running your fingers through it and you were so fucking happy. A variety of colors painted your heart and you couldn’t wait until you got to see the masterpiece he had created inside of you. There was one thing standing in the way though, something that wasn’t exactly letting you fall asleep in his arms. You wondered if your best friend would set on fire that masterpiece that you called your heart once she found out you were with Taehyung.
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ediths · 4 years
Text
The View From Both Sides of The Mirror
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Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
Word Count: 23.5k
Summary: Who would have thought that being stuck on a boat with your worst enemy would be a good thing?
Warning(s): Cursing, some mentions of yachtrry, Harry being a softie, Harry also being a dick, reader being down on herself
A/N: So this is my submission for @stylesharrys​ 10k follower celebration! I chose the picture above, the trope enemies to lovers, prompt “That’s not what I meant, I swear. I know I can be an asshole but I'm not that heartless.”  I’ve been working on this for quite a while and I really debated deleting the entire thing a few times, but here she is, all finished and ready to be enjoyed!!
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*
Harry Styles is a lot of things. Annoying, over the top, self obsessed, judgmental, self indulgent, careless, overly flamboyant, rude, narcissistic. He’s a lot of things, but perfect is not one of them.
The media continuously had a lot of ridiculous ideas about him, most of which were laughable. You’d often scroll through your social media and snort at the things that people would post about him. You had seen some things that were quite funny, but nothing compared to the article that your best friend, Lexi, had shown you. You full body cackled after reading the title, and who could blame you? “The Perfect Man the World Didn’t Know It Was Missing” was top tier comedy.
There were a plethora of things wrong with the title that the up and coming news station had so foolishly chosen.
The most obvious of which being the fact that he was literally 26, and he’s been in the spotlight for over ten years. The world hadn’t been missing him at all. He’s been shoved in everyone’s face for over a decade and they find a new reason to act like he’s the best thing that ever happened to the universe. They over exaggerate everything, make it seem like he was either born an hour ago or just discovered yesterday. Which was definitely not the case, as you had been told numerous times by the man himself. 
The second being that they all acted like they knew him when really they had absolutely no idea who he is. The ones that covered the stories acted like they knew him as well as his childhood best friend when really they had taken a statement, at most. They had no clue who he actually was. They couldn’t tell you his favorite number, or how he fixes his toast. They don’t know the reason why he no longer wears skinny jeans. They don’t know why he’s so open with who he is and how he presents himself. None of them know anything about any of that, and it’s more bothersome than you’d like to admit. But it’s not just the people that praise him that rub you the wrong way. No, it’s even the ones that say bad things about him, that claim that he’s Satan's spawn. It was still exasperating to hear them say things about him. They acted like they knew him well enough to hate him, to paint him as the villain in their article.
Yeah, sure, you and Harry didn’t get along, but at least you had a reason. Most of the people that didn’t like him were just upset because basically everyone wanted something to do with him, and they were all mad because he was seemingly perfect. He never lost his temper (he definitely did, just not in public), he was nice to everyone (yeah, besides you), and he would never turn down a picture with a fan if it was safe to do so and he had time (that one was true. The one part of him that you don’t absolutely hate is the love that he has for his fans. He’d be nowhere without them, and he realizes that. And, although he’s not appreciative of a lot of things, he is of them).
And the final thing about the article, the one that irked your nerves the most, was that they were yet another news group to paint the picture that he was perfect, that he was the golden boy. That he had never once done something that could be seen as wrong. Which, yet again, goes to show that they don’t really know anything about him, at least not personally.
Sure, Harry Styles came off as perfect. He had to. He’s in the public eye, spotted everywhere that he goes by at least one person. He had been coached from the ripe old age of 16 to come across in that way. In his career, there has never been any room for error. One mistake could have brought down everything that the managers of One Direction were trying to accomplish.
He was conditioned into media perfection long ago. He had been told how to speak, how to act, what to wear, what to sing. Anything that could possibly cause an upset in the fandom was immediately changed, edited to make it look better. He was shaped into the boy that the world had come to love. 
But Harry, the guy that you spent the majority of your waking hours with, due to the numerous mutual friends that you had, was annoying at best. Most of the time, though, he was a complete prick.
There was nothing about the man he was behind closed doors that was perfect. He was utterly and completely himself. Most people would think that’s a good thing, him being comfortable enough to himself to the fullest extent. But you? You absolutely hated those times. He was much easier to deal with when you were out in public, when he was too worried about keeping up appearances to do anything particularly shitty. 
The two of you had never gotten along. From the very moment that the two of you had met, there was a tension. It was like there was an immediate distaste for one another. All of your friends could tell that the two of you would never get along, but they tried to force it anyway.
That night, he had seemed completely uninterested, like he’d rather be at some party that only had A-List celebrities on the guest list than there meeting you. At first, you had been hurt. But then you came to accept it. Came to accept the fact that you just weren’t good enough for him. You weren’t like the rest of your friends. All you did was work in photography, and you weren’t even one of the well off photographers. Sure, you didn’t struggle, but you weren’t on the same level as the rest of the people that you had formed friendships with.
Your mutual friends had tried their best to ease the tension between the two of you. They had done everything in their power to force the friendship. You had to give them props, they pulled all the stops, but there was nothing that anyone could do that would make you not loathe the mere thought of him. Maybe it was the fact that he made you doubt who you were. Maybe it was the fact that he gave off the asshole vibe. Or maybe, it was just because he seemed to not like you, but from that day forward, you weren’t on good terms with him.
Things had gotten so bad with Harry that you had even tried to find a new group of friends. You were tired of feeling like you were the odd man out, feeling like you had ruined every outing because you couldn’t just suck it up and get along with him. There had come a time when you didn’t even feel like you had belonged. All of the people that you had surrounded yourself with were extremely successful. Most of them were CEOs of something. But when Harry had met them, he had introduced the singers, writers, and musicians into the group. You weren’t any of those things. Sure, a lot of people saw you as an artist, but you could barely be seen as anything compared to the others, and that haunted you until you began to believe that your occupation as a photographer wasn’t valid.
So, you searched for new friends. You tried to find people that would make you feel like you belonged, like you were their equal. You just wanted some people that you could relate to. You hadn’t felt that in way too long, and being around Harry and his super successful, extremely famous friends wasn’t helping any.
You tried for a few weeks before realizing that it was pointless. He found a way to weasel himself into that aspect of your life as well. 
Every single time you met someone new, the same thing happened. You’d talk to them for a few minutes, get to know each other a little. But each time, without fail, they’d ask “Hey, aren’t you that chick that’s friends with Harry Styles?” And each time, you’d immediately walk away, never looking back.
Nobody cared about making friends with you, they just wanted to have a way to Harry. Every cell in your body was filled with regret. You had made the decision to openly be in the same friend group as him. You hadn’t taken into consideration that once you were spotted with him repeatedly, your life would never be the same.
It left you wanting to rip your hair out. Or at least go back in time so that you never had to meet him, never had to be in public with him. It sucked that no matter how hard you tried, he wouldn’t stay out of your life. He was present even when he physically wasn’t, and it was aggravating beyond belief.
It was safe to say that you hate Harry Styles.
It was also safe to say that Harry Styles hates you.
You were so uptight, always sticking up your nose at everything that he did. You had done it since the moment that you had met him and it seemed as if you had never stopped.
You had given him a look that could only be described as one filled with disdain the moment that you met him, and from that moment on he had tried his best to distance himself from you. With the both of you running in the same circle, though, that was pretty hard.
So, he had just tried his best to ignore you. That didn’t work very well either, seeing as you always had a reaction to everything that he did. And none of those reactions were ever positive.
You acted like there was something wrong with him spending the money that he earned. It got on his nerves more than just about anything. What was he supposed to do with it? Was he just supposed to let it sit in his bank account for the rest of his life? He donates a large chunk of everything that he earns every year, it wasn’t like he was just blowing his money on meaningless things. He had his priorities straight.
He had come to despise nights out, knowing that you would be there. You always had something to say. Or not say, rather. You’d never tell him that it was exactly that made you so upset with him. Every time you would send him a look, he’d ask why, but you’d simply turn on your heel or slip out of the booth, heading to the dance floor to be as far away from him as possible.
He was a simple man, really. He just wanted to go out with his friends, buy something strong off the top shelf, and drink until he was in the cuddly mood that his mind automatically switched into when there was enough alcohol running through his veins.
But with you there? Oh, he couldn’t do that. God forbid he buys something expensive like that. God forbid that he spend his money on what he wanted to. Every time he’d order his drink, you’d curl your nose up, as if you were completely disgusted by his choice. And every time that he would get overly touchy and want to cuddle someone, he would automatically seek you out. He didn’t know why, and he despised his brain for thinking of no one else but you. 
He knew that the fact that he never chose someone else to agitate probably made you hate him even more than you already did, and he went home every weekend feeling awful about it. He never meant to annoy you. Sure, he hated you, couldn’t stand the way you acted like you were better than him, like you were higher up than him even though he saw the two  of you as equals, but he never meant to purposefully get on your nerves. He never went out of his way to cause you to hate him even more. 
However, that didn’t stop you from thinking that he did. Didn’t stop you from thinking that he’d do anything in his power to pester you. It didn’t stop you from hating him more and more every day.
*
When your friends had called you and told you that they wanted to go on vacation, you were excited. You could use a break, a bit of time to forget about all the stress and just relax on a boat with your friends. Plus, you had never been to Brighton, so there was no way you were going to say no to that experience.
However, the initial glory of the idea wore off the moment that you realize Harry’s the only one with any kind of boat. Which means in order to have the relaxing getaway that you want, you'll have to deal with him for at least a few hours every day, if not every moment that the sun is up. If you’re completely honest, you don’t even understand how he’s going to get the yacht to Brighton when it’s kept in the States. You didn’t question it, though, because that’s the reason that Lexi gave you. Which means that has to be the reason that he has to go.
To top it off, it won’t even be like it normally is. If he gets you worked up enough, you can’t even just walk away and leave, you’ll be stuck on his boat in the middle of a body of water, with no way to swim to land without risking something bad happening.
You had already paid the deposit for the house, but you were fully willing to let someone else take your place on the trip. Were fully willing to give up the vacation because there’s no way in the world that you could spend an entire week with Harry without something terrible happening. Plus, there was only room for four people and there were many more than just that in your friend group. They could easily find a replacement.
When you had called back to tell Lexi and Sam that you weren’t going to be attending, they all but guilt tripped you into coming along, saying that they had invited you for a reason and that they would be really bummed out if you decided to stay behind and give someone your spot.They also gave you the look, the one they always hit you with when you back out of something just because of Harry. 
You felt bad, always ruining plans because you were in a constant argument with him, so you tried to put your pride to the side for a moment and at least listen to what they had to say.
Against your better judgement, you agree to go, but only because you would have your own room with a private bathroom attached, and your friends confirmed that they wouldn't say anything about you hiding away from Harry if he got to be too much. They also assured you that you and Harry would be separated for the majority of the trip. 
They knew that the both of you need a vacation, but neither of you can stand the other, so they promised that you would have an adequate amount of alone time to have the relaxation that vacations are supposed to bring.
After doing your shoot that night, you go home and pack the suitcases you'll need for the week that the four of you plan on staying there. You don’t pack much, just a single suitcase and a carry on. You check to make sure that you have your passport and that it’s valid, and that you have all the items from around the house that you’ll need.
Once everything is settled and put together, you flop down on your bed, switching on a random Netflix show that you’d been obsessed with lately and allowing yourself to drift off to sleep..
*
You’ll never know how your friends had let them talk you into letting them plan the entire trip. The only thing that you were told was how much your portion of the bills were and when they were due. It has annoyed you to no end, seeing that you are the type of person that likes to know every detail of what’s  going on. You had been on more than enough trips that had absolutely everything that could go wrong do exactly that, leading to ruined trip after ruined trip, that you’d rather know all the plans, maybe even make a list or two so that there are no missteps or slip ups when it comes to the actual vacation.
You texted Lexi a few hours before you had to leave to board the flight to ask if you could scan over the plans and the details of the trip, not to change anything, just to double check. Of course, she said no immediately, not understanding that you just wanted to look over it and make sure that everything was in order to calm your nerves. You didn’t want to explain this to her, though, knowing that she would begin to feel guilty for not letting you see it immediately, and that’s not what you wanted to happen.
If you had talked to her and she had actually allowed you to check literally anything for the trip, though, the first thing you would have ensured was that you wouldn’t be stuck on a plane right next to Harry for hours. You’ll never understand how she could put you in this situation, making you sit next to the most loathsome person in this world, who she knows that you can’t even be in the same room as for more than a few hours.
By the time the situation registers in your mind, however, he’s already loaded his carry on and sat down in the seat. Which means that it's definitely too late to do anything about it. Yeah, you’d rather not sit next to him for hours on end, but you’re definitely not going to cause a scene on an airplane full of people. Especially not when half of them already have their phones out, trying to discreetly take pictures of Harry.
Besides, the flight attendant is already coming around checking belts and the pilot is introducing himself and spouting out information that seemingly no one is paying attention to. This flight will be over in no time. At least that’s what you tell yourself to get through the next ten hours.
You groan, rolling your eyes at the irony of the situation. Of course something like this would happen. You had only agreed to a vacation because you needed relaxation. You needed a break from all the stress. But here you were, stuck right next to one of the biggest stress inducers in your life. Yeah, Lexi had promised you that you’d have plenty of time away from Harry at the rental house, but you were definitely making up for all the time that would be lost right now.
If you didn’t know better, you would think that Lexi and Sam were plotting against you. But that’s crazy, right? They wouldn’t do something like this on purpose, would they?
You lightly shake your head, pushing the thought from your mind. They wouldn’t do that.
You pull out your phone, queuing up the playlists you had downloaded prior to boarding. You knew that you’d want to shut yourself off from the world for the duration of the trip there, so you prepared accordingly.
You take one final glance around the cabin, seeing that everyone else has begun settling in and nobody else is announcing something important. You slip your headphones in your ears, ready to relax as much as possible throughout the flight. You know that the only way to completely avoid being pestered by Harry is to completely block him out.
The first song that comes on makes you want to laugh. You obviously don’t do such a thing, knowing that the outburst would cause every single person on the plane to look at you like you’re crazy. 
You couldn’t catch a break today. Of course one of his songs would be playing in your ears while your face was less than a foot from his. Of course it would actually be one of your favorites. You had never once in your life pressed the skip button on this song, but knowing that he’s as close to you as he is, you’re hesitant to even listen to the opening chords of the song.
“Carolina” blared through your headphones for a split second before you made up your mind and hit skip. You couldn’t risk being caught by him. There’s no way you would survive this if he found out that you listened to his music, especially since you have it saved to your playlist. There’s no way that you’d be able to play that off as you simply listening to it so that you could make fun of him for it later (which you wouldn’t do in general, you know how important his music is for him, and you’d never dampen the light that appears in his eyes when he talks about it. You’re not that cruel.).
It was quite frustrating, really. His music is fantastic, a perfect blend of the basic attributes that hook audiences that hear songs on the radio and a uniqueness that you can’t find anywhere else. His music was absolutely amazing, but the man that sang it… he was a different story.
You didn’t like to judge his tracks based on how fond of him you were when you first heard them. If you did that, you’d never listen to them in general. 
You’d never admit it to him, but every song of his, even the covers, was scattered throughout your playlists. And every once in a while, when nobody was around, you would listen to them and genuinely enjoy them. Sometimes you’d even dance along, and that’s a secret that you’ll take to the grave.
You wanted to drift off to sleep, but didn’t want to risk him hearing if one of his songs came on. Lord knows that he doesn’t need the ego boost. So, you turned the volume down until you were confident that nobody else could hear it. You lean your head back against the rest and let your eyes slip shut, finding sleep in seconds.
*
What seems like moments later, you’re being awoken by someone. You think that maybe it’s Lexi at first, but then you feel them, the rings that he never seems to take off. You jerk your body away from him, not wanting his hands to be on you. 
“Hey, it’s time to wake up. We’ve landed.” You open your eyes and glare at him, taking your headphones out. You can tell that he’s holding in a laugh and it makes you want to punch him right in the jaw. You choose not to do such a thing, however, because you’d rather not cause a scene on an airplane. So, you settle for flipping him off.
He chuckles before mimicking your action. You roll your eyes, standing up from the seat and grabbing your carry on. Harry steps back, letting you walk ahead of him. You think nothing of it until he pushes at the back of your knee, almost making you fall to the ground. What is he? A middle schooler? 
You can already tell that this is going to be a long trip, regardless of what Lexi and Sam had assured you. So far, what they had said had turned out to mean absolutely nothing to you. Not for the first time since you woke up this morning, you find yourself wishing that you hadn’t given in. That you had just said no and not let them talk you into it.
You walk with a bit more speed after you step off of the airplane, trying to get as far away from him as possible. You don’t want to have to add falling over in the middle of the airport to the list of reasons why you despise flying. You had only agreed to get on the plane this time because it was absolutely necessary in getting to Brighton.
You meet up with Sam and Lexi by the luggage pick up and all of you wait for your bags. You put all your effort into ignoring Harry, only looking in his direction or humming an approval when the conversation called for it.
“Alright, well. We need to get to the car rental service and then I have to go rent the yacht.” Harry says, making you snap your head up, looking straight at him. After a second, you turn to Lexi and Sam, looking between the two.
“Oh, no, no, no. Tell me you’re fucking joking.” You spit. “Harry just had to come, huh? And you wouldn’t let me back out? Harry’s the only one with a yacht? Yeah, he’s the only one with a yacht but he’s fucking renting one.” You can’t believe this. “Look, if I had known that me being stuck in a foreign country with him wasn’t completely necessary, I would have given someone else this vacation in a heartbeat.”
“Y/N come on…” Sam starts, but you cut him off.
“What, Sam? Want me to hold my tongue yet again so I don’t hurt Harry’s feelings?” You scoff. Why did they care about his feelings when he had never once taken yours into consideration? “Well, you know what? Fuck Harry’s feelings. He’s rude to me for absolutely no goddamn reason and I’m tired of it. I wanted to come on this god forsaken trip so that I could relax. Both of you,” you point back and forth between Sam and Lexi, “promised me that I would get to relax, that I would only be around Harry on the boat. But it seems like your word is bullshit, doesn’t it?”
Your luggage rolls around and you yank it off the conveyor. “Let’s go get the stupid ass cars. And Harry?” You turn to him, pointing your finger at him and tapping his chest. You ignore the way that the contact sends shivers up and down your spine. “Don’t you dare fucking say a word to me on the way there. Don’t touch me, for any reason. You know what? Just don’t even look at me. That should make everything a little more bearable, got that?” 
He nods, and with that, you walk towards the exit of the airport, knowing that there was no way you could continue that argument without bursting into tears. You weren’t upset in that way, you just had the habit to start crying when you were pissed off at someone to this point. They had really lied to your face. You know Lexi though, she’ll use the fact that she ‘technically didn’t lie because Harry is the only one with a yacht.’ 
You wait outside, knowing that they have the address to the car rental place, and there’s no way that you want to get lost here. You don’t look at any of them once they come out the doors, and they don’t make any effort to talk to you. 
The entire walk to the shop, you stay a few feet behind them, not wanting to be too close to any of them. It’s not even so much so that you were mad anymore, that had subsided. You were hurt. The fact that they lied to you? That was something that all of you had promised to never do to one another, even you and Harry. And what hurt even worse was the fact that the people that did lie to you weren’t who you expected to ever lie to you. If anyone was going to do something like that, you expected that it would have been Harry that did it, not them. It probably wouldn’t have hurt as much if it had been Harry, but only because you had mentally prepared yourself for him to betray you, had kept your walls up against him since the moment that he showed you who he was around you.
The walk to the rental store was a short one, leaving you barely any time alone with your thoughts, which you were completely fine with. You didn’t really want to be in your head right now.
Lexi walks in, leaving the three of you outside. She comes out a moment later with two sets of keys. “Alright, who’s riding with who?”
“I’ll ride with Sam, give Y/N some time away from me.” If he hadn’t said it with the hint of sarcasm that he did, his words could have been mistaken for sweetness. But you know how he is. He makes everyone else think that he’s such a sweetheart when really he’s a prick.
*
The house is nice. Really nice, actually. The moment you walk in, you’re met with the high ceilings of the entryway. You must admit that Lexi and Sam did a great job on picking the house that you’d be staying in for the week. You walk through the entryway and see a kitchen off to the side, it’s really modern, looks like it was just redone. There’s a sitting room directly adjacent to where you’re standing. And you can see multiple doors and a hallway that leads to other rooms, which you assume are bedrooms and the half bath that would be used for guests.
You immediately go to pick a room, knowing that nobody else really plans on being in their rooms at all, so it’s not like they’ll mind. You venture down the hallway and see a few art pieces. You smile to yourself. The house is really cute. You wouldn’t mind living somewhere like this when you find someone and settle down.
You look through all the rooms before choosing the one at the very end of the hallway. There’s a large four poster bed sitting in the middle of the room. There’s a bookshelf to the right of the bed and a nightstand with a cute little lamp on it to the left. Upon walking further into the room and scanning the entirety of it, you see that there’s a dresser against the wall opposite the bed. There’s a tv sat upon the dresser. To the right of that, there’s a door that leads to the bathroom.
Even if Harry does get on your nerves during this trip, you can always come in here and escape from it all. You smile at the thought. That was truly the first thing that had been seen as a positive since you had left your house that morning. 
Since it was already pretty late, you decided to hop in the shower. Grabbing your clothes for the night and walking into the bathroom. As soon as the door is closed, you begin peeling off your clothes. Just doing that puts you in a better mood, you had been wearing those clothes for far too long. They probably didn’t smell the best, having sat on your body for an entire plane ride.
You fiddle with the temperature settings on the shower for a moment before stepping in. The moment that the hot water hits your skin, you let out a sigh of relief. You can feel the muscles that had tensed up throughout the day start to relax.
After spending what feels like an adequate amount of time in the shower, you towel off and get dressed, making your way to the bed. You crawl under the plush comforter and immediately feel the exhaustion rack your body. You turn off the lamp and roll onto your stomach, letting sleep pull you into the blissful state where nothing bothers you
*
Lexi busted into your room early the next morning, shaking you awake until you turned to face her.
“Do you need Sam and me to get you anything from the store?” She chirped, far too giddy for any normal person to be this early in the morning.
That makes sense, though, because Lexi is far from normal. She has this electric personality, usually bringing out the absolute best in everybody.
She has been your best friend since high school. She took you under her wing during your sophomore year, her junior year.
Since then, you have been through a lot together. Crushes, relationships, heartbreaks, you and her yelling at the guy or girl that broke the other’s heart. You helped each other pick up the pieces when nobody else was there to help do so.
You had been through dozens of friendships since sophomore year, but the only one that has been a constant is her.
Sure, the both of you had changed. But you had changed together and supported one another through every decision.
You had seen her cycle through different haircuts - she had chopped off her brown curls during her senior year and instantly hated them, choosing to let them grow back out to their rightful place, right below her shoulders - and hair colors - when she cut her hair, she also dyed it a bright red, which you’re still convinced is the real reason she hated the length of it as well. You had also experienced her ever changing sense of style, which was actually a plus for you most times, because when she changed her taste and cleaned out her closet, she’d give you all of the clothes that no longer satisfied her, leaving you with a new wardrobe at least once a year.
And she had been there for you too, sticking with you through your ‘whore phase.’ Which really just consisted of you dating the ‘hottest guy in school’ - he wasn’t really that hot - and then rumors spread the next year that you were messing around with the ‘hottest girl in school’ - that one was the one that got you the label, all the guys being mad that they couldn’t get with her, seeing as she was strictly into girls. 
Lexi had also dealt with your late night calls, riddled with anxiety, not knowing what it is that you could possibly do with your future. She had calmed you down multiple times, talking through options with you. She was the reason that you came to realize that you wanted to be in the fashion industry in some way. 
She had already known what she wanted to do, had been aware of her dreams since before she even made it into high school. She used to tell you all the time, “Y/N, one of these days, I’m going to own a Fortune 500 company.” And that’s exactly what she had done. 
Which is the only reason that you got to be friends with all the people that you do. She’s also the one who introduced you to Harry, starting the rivalry between the two of you.
“No, I’m fine.” You groaned, rolling back over.
“Alright, sleepy head.” She chuckled, walking back out of your room and latching the door.
Once she’s gone, you reach over and grab your phone, checking the time. Seven A.M. You groan. Was she crazy? 
You’re definitely not pleased that you’re up this early. However, you decided to go ahead and stay up. Your alarm would be going off in two hours, and you know that you’ll be grumpy if you go back to sleep just to wake up then.
You pull yourself out of bed, trudging to the bathroom. You run through all the steps of your morning routine and emerge from the bathroom, ready to take on the day.
Your way of taking on the day is going to be picking a book from the bookshelf and laying in bed until around ten, when you’re scheduled to go out to the water for the day.
*
It’s almost ten when you get the text from Sam.
We’re running late, you and H go ahead and get on the water, we’ll rent jet skis to get out there. X
You roll your eyes, of course they’d be late. And of course they’d leave you to fend for yourself with Harry.
You quickly get dressed in your dark blue bikini, the one that accentuates all your curves perfectly. You then throw an oversized band tee over your head, making sure that you’re covered enough before walking out and making sure that Harry's ready and has everything that he’ll need for the day. You’re really not in the mood to have him forget something and have to come all the way back to the house.
When you reach the living room, he’s already by the door, dressed in a pair of yellow swimming trunks and a cream colored tee. He has the yacht keys in hand, along with his phone. He already has the cooler and the bag Lexi had packed with supplies for the day (sunscreen, portable chargers, etc.). 
You just stand there for a moment, looking him over, trying to ignore the feeling that you got in your stomach. You couldn’t place exactly what it was, but it had to be one of disgust, right? You couldn’t stand being around him, he was unnecessarily rude to you and you can’t tolerate him. That feeling couldn’t be anything good, it had to be disgust, or maybe it was resentment. Either way, it stopped you in your tracks.
“You coming or what, loser? It’s enough that it’s just us, do I need to hold your hand too?” He smirks.
You push down the rising feeling in your chest, and push past him, walking over to the passenger side of the suv that he had rented for the week. 
He takes his sweet time strolling over, popping the trunk and placing the bag and cooler in before slamming it shut again. He unlocks the doors and you slide in, buckling your seat. You refuse to look at him, knowing that if you make eye contact with him, he’ll be more inclined to say something dickish to you.
The ride to the water is mostly quiet, the only sound in the car being the music from the radio. Some top 40s song that you haven't heard yet was filling the air, causing the silence between you and Harry to be slightly less awkward. 
“What’re you gonna do when we get there?” He asks. You’re taken aback for a moment. Why was he even talking to you, let alone asking what your plans were for the day? Why was he being weird? “Because, honestly, you should probably tan, you look like a ghost.” There it is, the snide remark that was missing.
You scoff. “Harry, maybe don’t check me out every two seconds and you won’t notice.” You joke, knowing that he’s the last person on the planet that would ever check you out.
You expect him to hurl an insult back at you, tell you that he’d never check out someone as ugly as you, or tell you that he was only scanning to see what he could make fun of, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t say a word, and when you turn to him, you see that the tips of his ears are red and there’s a blush creeping up his neck. Was it really that embarrassing to be accused of checking you out? 
You don’t push him, thankful for the returning silence. It only takes a few more moments to get to the docks anyway, so it’s not like the silence is stretched out for too long.
You grab the cooler and the bag this time, knowing that he’ll have to drive the yacht, and you don’t feel like hearing about how lazy you are because you didn’t do enough.
The walk to the boat is silent and filled with tension. It’s like both of you want to say something, are dying to talk to the other, but you won’t. You don’t want to talk to him, you just want to talk to someone. It’s not the same. 
Once Harry gets everything ready, you climb onto the boat, setting everything down and pulling out the sunglasses that you had decided to bring at the last moment.
“So, where do you think we should go?” You ask, knowing that he’s been here before. He’ll know how far out you can go while still being able to anchor the yacht.
“Out on the water, duh.” His words are laced with sarcasm and it makes you want to throw him overboard. Too bad he’s the only person on this vacation that’s ever had enough down time to actually learn how to handle one of these things.
“You know what the fuck I meant, stop being an idiot.” You spit, hating how easily he got a rise out of you.
He chuckles before waving you off with a, “I know what I’m doing, darling, don’t worry about it.” 
He seems to catch what he says as soon as it slips out of his mouth, his eyes widening and the blush coming back to his features. You choose to ignore it. You’d rather just go up to the deck and tan.
For a split second, you debate on whether or not you should lay out, knowing that he would think you were doing it because of the comment that he made. But then you realize that you don’t actually give a fuck about what he has to say or what he thinks with his final two brain cells. 
So, you head up to the upper deck, stripping yourself of your shirt and laying out a towel for you to rest on.
You stay in that position, only moving to flip over so that each side gets an even amount of sun, until you hear jet skis approaching.
You push yourself up, wandering down to where Harry has set up his towel. Apparently he decided to sunbathe as well. It’s not like he needed it though, he has a tan that any woman would absolutely die for. 
You quickly give him a once over, halting when you realize that he’s put a stupid hat on his head. And not even just that, he has it on backwards. What was he trying to do, absolutely kill you? 
Here’s the thing, you hate Harry, sure. But you aren’t blind. You can see how attractive he is, how his tattoos run over his tanned skin, making you want to trace each detail with the tip of your finger, or more honestly, your tongue. His muscles always accentuate everything that he wears, regardless of whether it’s one of the custom Gucci suits or a random Nike tank that he threw on to go on a run. His face is damn near perfect, so much so that it makes you want to throw up. His cheekbones are high, jawline sharp. He was blessed with the dimples, which are only made even better by his eye crinkles. And God, his hands. His hands that are constantly adorned with rings, all of which could probably pay your rent for at least a year.
It’s really not fair. In all honesty, him being as completely flawless his physical attributes seem to be is absolutely not fair. You used to scoff at the fact that people were blessed with good looks. It was all genes, right? Wrong. Sure, Anne’s gorgeous and you’re sure that Desmond had to have had something going for him when Anne met him, but Harry? He came out to be a whole lot more attractive than anyone you had ever seen. And just to add on to everything, he was the person that you hated the most in the world.
You’re broken out of your thoughts by Lexi pulling up to the side of the boat and climbing in. She doesn’t even look at you, just walks farther into the yacht. You don’t think to question her, she’s probably annoyed by something that Sam said. But then you notice that Sam isn’t getting off his jet ski, does he plan on just not taking his shirt off the entire time?
Lexi comes bounding back to where you and Harry are standing, but she again doesn’t stop. She just keeps walking, clambering back onto her abandoned vehicle. You’re confused for a second, what’s going on? But then you see them, the keys dangling in her fist. You’d know those keys anywhere. They were put on Harry’s keychain the moment that he had picked them up. She has the yacht keys.
Before you can say anything about it, she’s driving off, yelling, “Have fun!” into the wind.
“They did not just-” You start, only to be cut off by Harry. Usually, you’d be annoyed by him, but this time, you have another source of irritation.
“Yeah, they just pulled an Outer Banks on us.” He sighs, walking back to where he had originally been laying. 
“Are you not mad?” You try to stop your eyes from tracing the expanse of his back, but it seems to be impossible.  The way that his muscles are flexing under the expanse of skin drawing you in.
“No, are you?” He sounds like he couldn’t care less, which is odd. Shouldn’t he be upset that he’s forced to spend an entire day alone with the person that he hates?
“Um, yeah.” You groan. Of course you’re mad, you don’t want to be here. How can he seem so calm?
“Why are you so fucking uptight all the time?” He blurts, catching you off guard. The words hit you like a train, knocking all the air out of your lungs. So this is why he hated you. You just thought that you gave him the wrong vibes or something, he seemed like the kind of person to judge based on that type of thing.
“What do you mean?” He looks over at you and rolls his eyes.
“I mean, why are you so uptight all the time?” For some reason, your chest tightens up and you feel like you’re going to cry. You’d known that he couldn’t stand you, that he’d rather not be around you, but hearing the real reason? Hearing what he really hates about you? That fucking hurts.
“Is that why you hate me?” At most, you had thought that maybe he just looked down on you, thought that you weren’t good enough to be part of the friend group because you didn’t own a fortune 500 company, or sell houses for the richest people in America, or sing to thousands upon thousands of adoring fans. But apparently not. Apparently he had an actual, legitimate reason, and for some reason, that stings.
“I don’t hate you.” You scoff and roll your eyes at him. Did he really think you’d believe that? “I just think that you’re uptight and you get on my last nerve.” 
“You hate me, Harry. Don’t try to lie about it.” He can say what he wants, but people that don’t hate you don’t act the way that he does.
“I don’t hate you, I just strongly dislike you.” This makes you snicker. He’s such an idiot sometimes.
“That’s literally just you saying that you hate me with a different word choice.” He looks over at you, and you see the little tufts of curls sticking out from the side of his hat. The sight makes your chest ache, why does he have to be so fucking cute? Why couldn’t you be blessed with an ugly enemy?
“Whatever.” He sighs, brushing the conversation to the side.
You want to continue, but you’re almost scared to. You could just walk back up to the upper deck and continue tanning, or you could even go for a swim, but instead, you stay right where you are. You subconsciously start to play with a loose string on the shirt that you had slipped back on before coming down to Harry.
“I’m not uptight, by the way.” You say after a few moments of silence. 
He scoffs, “Yes you are.”
“How so?” You’d love to hear him explain this one, even though it’ll probably either hurt you even more or infuriate you. But you’d like to know why he thinks you’re so uptight,
“You think you’re better than everyone, especially your friends. You have the money to do what you want but you turn your nose up at the finer things in life and give all of us dirty looks when we drink from the top shelf or buy something super expensive.” You’re speechless for a moment, but he doesn’t seem to be done, so it doesn’t really matter. “You act like there’s something better about you getting cheap tequila and wearing the same clothes over and over again. Well, think about it this way, yeah, I buy from the top shelf and I wear a lot of new clothes, but most of those clothes, I get sent. Most of them I don’t even pay for. Which honestly, you’ll probably find to be worse. But yeah, you’re uptight.”
After a moment, the words ignite a fire in you. “First of all, that shows how little you know about me, Styles. I don’t have the money to do what I want. I have money, sure. But not that much. I have enough money from my job to pay for rent, bills, food, and then have a little bit to splurge on myself.” You really don’t want to have this conversation with him, you don’t like to talk about your financial situation with anyone, let alone him. “But nowhere near enough to spend excessive amounts on alcohol or drop almost a grand on a striped t-shirt with a pig on it that’s literally the size of my fingernail. Not all of us can be big shot CEO’s or superstars.”
He looks shocked by your words, which just further added to your point. He didn’t know you, not at all. He pretended to know you, made assumptions about you, all of which seemed to make him hate you more and more.
“Well you still give us dirty looks.” You almost snort at his feeble attempt to save his argument.
“I literally don’t but okay. I don’t really care what you think about me. Hate me if you want to. You’ll be annoying either way.” You turn on your heel to get as far away from his as possible, but he stops you with his words.
“I’m not annoying.” This time, you actually do let out a chuckle. Him thinking that he’s not an annoying little prick is honestly better comedy than the specials they try to run on TV.
“The fuck you aren’t, Harry. All you do is make snide comments.” Who did he think he was? A saint?
“I do not. Don’t start your shit, Y/N.” He glares at you, but his looks don’t have the effect that he wishes this time, they just add fuel to the fire still burning bright inside of you.
“Don’t start my shit?” You snicker. He has to be fucking kidding. “You tell me how trashy I look in outfits that I think I look great in. You tell me my makeup looks like shit and that if I was trying to impress someone, I failed, even though all I do is put it on for myself. You tell me to stop trying so hard to get attention when I’m literally trying to blend in as much as possible.” You’re trying to hold the emotion back, to not cry in front of him, because you’ve already spent enough time crying over the things that he’s said. “You call me a slut when I have a one night stand like you don’t literally bring a different girl hom every fucking night. So I don’t wanna hear it, Harry.”
If looks could kill, the one that he’s giving you at the moment would have you six feet under. “You don’t fucking know me. I don’t bring a new girl home every night, you make me sound like a fuckboy.” 
You roll your eyes. “I could make you sound a lot worse. And maybe there’s not one every night, but there’s at least one a week, and I have a one night stand what, maybe once every couple months? If even that?” You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, maybe I don’t know you, but that’s not my fault. I didn’t make the choice to not know you. You pushed me away the second you met me, even though I did nothing to you. You didn’t let me know you. But you don’t know me either.” The tears are gathering in your eyes and threatening to spill onto your cheeks. You look up towards the sky, trying to make them subside. Once you feel confident enough in the fact that they won’t drop, you look back at him. “You’re not just annoying, you’re a dick. The shit you say? God, if you knew how much that shit can hurt someone.”
“Don’t come at me and say that any of that hurts you. You fire right back and then go on with your day.” The smirk that he has plastered on his face makes you want to knock him into a new dimension, but you compose yourself. He isn’t worth it.
“Yeah, of course I just let it roll off my shoulders while I’m around you. Have you ever thought about why that is? About why I seem to not care?” Your voice has slowly but surely become louder. “It’s because I’m not going to cry my eyes out and let myself wonder if maybe you’re right, that maybe I do look like shit and should cover up as much of my body as possible, right in front of you!” By the end, you’re screaming, and you don’t even care. 
You take a deep breath and continue, “I can’t give you the fucking satisfaction. Because Lord knows that you’ll just hold that over my head too.”
That seems to have some sort of effect on him. His face falls almost immediately, that god awful smirk disappearing. His eyes seem to get softer, and a part of you wants to walk over and hug him. But you don’t. Of course you don’t. He’s the guy you hate the most.
“I didn’t know you felt that way.” He mumbles as you’re getting ready to head back to the upper deck.
“I’m sorry.” He tries, but you’re not going to let him off the hook that easy.
“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it, Harry. It’s not like you're even sorry anyway. You don’t care about me, so don’t start acting like you do now.” With that, you turn on your heel and make your way back up to continue tanning.
Once you get back to your towel, you let the few stray tears fall. You hate that he has the power to make you cry, but you can’t help it. He just gets to you, regardless of how hard you try to guard yourself from him.
He comes up after a few minutes and you look over at him, waiting for an explanation.
“I’m going for a swim. If you need anything, I’ll be in the water.” He states, and you turn back around.
“Have fun.” You spit, the words laced with sarcasm. 
He doesn’t reply. You hear his footsteps receding and then a splash signaling that he’s jumped off of the boat.
For some reason, you have a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. At first, you ignore it, but then you stop hearing the sloshing of the water. You can’t help but let yourself get a little panicked. You may not be the biggest fan of the guy, but you can’t just let him drown.
You stand up from your spot on the towel and walk over to the side of the boat that you heard the initial splash come from.
You make your way back down to where you and Harry had fought. You grimace at the thought. Had that really been one of the last things he ever heard? No, you can’t think like that. 
You look to your right and notice that all four life jackets are still hooked on the railing. Of course he didn’t take a life jacket. Anything could have happened to him and now you wouldn’t even be able to float. He could be sinking to the bottom, never to be found again.
Yeah, he can swim. He’s actually a really good swimmer, but he could have hit his head on the boat when he jumped in. Or he could have dove down under the water and ended up getting caught on something. 
You rush over to slip one of the life jackets and grab an extra. The last thing that you needed was to find him and not be able to drag him back to the boat because he’s too heavy.
You jump in, the life jacket keeping you afloat. With there being no need to concentrate on not drowning, you focus all your efforts on finding Harry. You can’t see him anywhere in the general vicinity, so you start looking under the water as long as you’re able to.
You’re trying your hardest, but you can’t find him. 
You start to panic. Suddenly you find it hard to breathe and the tears are streaming down your face. You immediately blame yourself. You should have just stopped earlier, should’ve realized that there’s a better time to argue with him. Maybe if you had just been a little nicer, the two of you could have gotten along for the day. Why didn’t you just stop? Why didn’t you at least accept his apology?
You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a strong pair of arms wrapping around you. You scream, not knowing who it could possibly be. You twist in their arm, realizing that it was only Harry.
You push away from him. “What the fuck, Harry? I thought you died!”
“Really? And you came out here to look for me?” He asks, and for a moment, you think he might be grateful, but you can already see the smirk forming on his lips. You choose to ignore it for the moment, though.
“Yeah, I couldn’t hear you swimming around anymore and I thought maybe you had hit your head on something or gotten pulled under or something like that. Where were you?” You’re trying to wipe the tears off of your face, but your hands are just as soaked as your face, so it does absolutely no use.
“The other side of the boat, why didn’t you just check over there?” His smirk is present in full force now.
“I don’t know, slipped my mind, I guess.” You mumble, knowing that this could have all been avoided if you had just looked on the other side of the boat.
“Seems pretty fucking stupid of you.” He chuckles.
You push even further away from him, throwing the life jacket you had brought for him in his face. “You’re such a fucking dick! Sorry that I cared too fucking much about your life to check the entire perimeter of the boat before trying to save you!”
You can’t believe him. You didn’t think of one thing, in the heat of the moment, and now you’re stupid? Wow. Okay, next time you’ll just let him drown.
You start to swim back towards the boat. He’s following you, but you don’t care enough to acknowledge it.
“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant, I swear. I know I can be an asshole but I'm not that heartless.” You don’t even turn back to him.
“Problem is, Styles, you really are that heartless.” You spit, climbing back onto the boat, trying to get as far away from him as possible.
He clambers up after you, trying to get your attention. You actively ignore him, though.
He grabs your wrist, wrapping his fingers around the joint. You spin on your heel.
“Let me go, Harry.” you demand.
“Y/N, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” His eyes are pleading with you, but you genuinely can’t care any less. 
“Seems pretty fucking stupid of you.” You throw his words back at him.
His face immediately falls, not liking how the words hurt him. He deserves it though. All you were trying to do was help him and he was an absolute prick. 
You storm back up to your towel, laying down and trying to dry yourself off. 
Not too long after you head back up, he brings you a sandwich that he made with the supplies he had packed in the cooler.
“Thought you might be hungry.” He mumbles when he sits the plate down. He doesn’t wait for you to respond, just turns back and heads to where he came from.
You wait until he’s gone to eat, only doing so because it’s already made and you wouldn’t want the food to go to waste.
*
What seems like eons later, but was definitely only hours, Lexi and Sam get dropped off at the boat by a random couple you’ve never seen before.
You rush down to where they are.
“Did you guys get any closer?” Sam asks. 
You just roll your eyes and stick your hand out. “If you don’t hand the keys back this fucking instant, I will not hesitate to jump off this boat and swim back to the docks.”
Lexi looks at you with wide eyes and hands over the keys. The moment that you have them in your hands, you stomp over to Harry and chuck them at him.
“Drive this stupid ass boat back to the docks, and don’t you dare fuck around or you’ll get thrown overboard and I won’t bother to come looking for you.” He doesn’t argue with you, just picks up the keys and makes his way to the wheel.
“What happened?” Lexi questions, but you just brush her off.
“Ask him, he’ll tell you with a fucking smirk on his face.” You walk over to the bench and sit down, not wanting to talk to anyone else throughout the trip back.
*
It only registers with you that you’ll have to ride back to the house with Harry after you get to the docks.
“I’m walking home.” You announce, knowing that it’ll only take fifteen minutes tops to get back to the rental.
“What are you talking about?” Harry and Sam ask at the same time.
You ignore Harry, turning back to Sam. “I’m walking back to the house. It shouldn’t take me long, and there’s no way in hell I’m riding with him.”
With that, you turn and start walking. The road is secluded, lined by trees.
After a few minutes, they drive up to you. Harry rolls down his window. “Y/N, come on, I’ll walk if it’s that big of a deal.”
You raise your hand, flipping him off. “Wouldn’t want to ruin your Gucci shoes.”
He sighs, rolling the window back up and continuing to drive. He knows better than to argue with you right now. There’s no way that he’ll win.
You slow your stride, wanting to prolong the walk as long as possible. You only speed back up when the clouds start to turn into a viscous shade of gray.
The one thing that could bother you more than Harry is thunderstorms. And you can tell by the state of the sky that a bad one’s coming.
*
You sneak back into the house, pushing the door open as quietly as possible. Thankfully, there’s nobody in the living room. Everyone seems to have retired to their rooms. 
As you’re creeping down the hallway, you hear Harry talking to Lexi. Her door is slightly ajar and you can’t help but stop and listen.
“No, no. Lexi, I know. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have called her stupid. All she was trying to do was help me. God, I’m such a fucking idiot.” You can hear his voice waiver and you think for a moment that he might be crying. You quickly push the thought from your mind. Why would Harry be crying over you?
“Yeah, you did fuck up. Harry, this isn’t how you treat people that you care about.” Every trace of air leaves your lungs at that. Since when does Harry care about you? You want to blame it on him lying, but why would he? It’s just Lexi. And they have no way of knowing that you’re here. He must be telling the truth. 
“I know, I know. We were arguing before then, She told me about how shitty I make her feel and it absolutely tore my heart into pieces. I don’t mean to make her feel that way.” You can’t deny that he’s crying, hearing the sob come less than a millisecond after he finishes.
“I know that, H. But she doesn’t, She thinks you get a kick out of hurting her. She really thinks you hate her.” You can visualize what she’s doing, knowing how she comforts like the back of your hand. She’s running her hand over Harry’s back, trying to soothe him. And if that doesn’t work, she’ll push his hair back and wipe the tears from his face, tell him that it’ll all be okay.
“I’m aware. But I don’t, I hate hurting her. That’s what I hate, not her.” If he doesn't hate you, then why does he act the way that he does?
“Then go show her.” You smile, Lexi knows you so well. She knows that you judge people off their actions. And that you don’t believe a word anyone says until they show you that their words actually mean something.
“Alright. I will when she gets home.” The determination in his voice makes your heart swell. 
You hear him get off of his bed and you scurry to your room, not wanting to face him, and really not wanting to get caught eavesdropping. You slip inside and close your door just in the nick of time. Half a second after you’re out of sight, you hear his feet padding along the hallway to his room.
You sigh, a million thoughts running through your head. 
Could he really care about you?
If he does, why is he so rude to you all the time?
How does he expect to make this up to you?
You decided to take a shower. Not only to get clean, but also to clear your head. The second the water hits your skin, you know that there’s no way this shower is going to be as quick as you had planned. For a long time, you just stand under the stream of water, letting your mind run rampant with the thoughts of Harry. 
Is it a good thing that he could care about you? Sure, you see how he is with everyone else, and you’ve always craved to have that with him. And hating him is absolutely exhausting, most of the time you’d rather just fall into the easy conversation that he’s able to have with the rest of his friends. 
But would it be that easy? Probably not. Nothing was ever that easy when it came to him.
Are you willing to work for it? If Harry takes the initiative and tries to show you that he does care, then yes.
Once you come to that conclusion, you realize just how long that you’ve been in the shower. Your body is starting to prune, and the water has gotten significantly cooler.
You step out and throw on the shirt that you slept in the night before, but not slipping on the shorts.
You open the bathroom door and trudge over to the bed, flopping down and switching the lamp off. 
Usually, you could never fall asleep comfortably during storms, but after the day that you’ve had, your eyes are shut and sleep is overtaking you in mere moments.
*
Far too soon, you’re being shaken awake. 
The first thing you notice is that it’s dark outside. Who in their right minds is waking you up before sunrise, you don’t know.
The second thing you notice is the chill of someone’s cold rings on your skin. The contact makes a shiver run down your spine. 
You immediately roll over and face him. The sight of him is not great. He’s soaked from head to toe, water dripping on the floor. You almost have the nerve to scold him for not drying off, but then you realize that he has no reason to be wet. What did he do? What happened to him?
“When did you get home?” He asks, voice sticking in his throat.
“Earlier. Why are you wet?” Your voice is hoarse from sleep and you pray that you don’t sound revolting.
“Went out in the storm.” He shrugs. “None of us heard you come home. I guess when I checked in here earlier you were in the shower or something.”
“Why did you guys go looking? You could’ve just called or texted.” You say, then realize that you may have seemed ungrateful. “Not that I’m complaining, thanks for worrying about me.”
“Well, you see, Sam and Lexi thought you’d be fine. You know the way home, after all. They just thought you had stopped somewhere to cool off and wait out the storm. I went looking though, I was really worried. And I didn’t text or call because I, um, don’t exactly have your phone number.” He lets out a dry chuckle, running his hands through his hair.
Your heart swells. Harry went looking for you. He walked right out into a thunderstorm because he was worried that you were stuck out there by yourself.
“Hey, um, so I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything, but I heard a snippet of your conversation with Lexi earlier while I was walking to my room.” You gulp, hoping he doesn’t think you’re creepy or anything. “Did you really mean what you said?”
“Which part did you hear?” His question is laced with anxiety and he looks like he’s seconds away from passing out.
“Um, from the part where you said you fucked up and didn’t really hate me.” You mumble.
“Yeah, I meant every word. I also meant it when I said I was gonna show you that I care about you.” He looks up, meeting your eyes. You can’t help the feeling you get in your chest. This man just went out into the pouring rain, lightning falling all around him, just to look for you.
“I think you already did, H.” Regardless of how he treated you in the past. Hell, how he treated you in the past twenty four hours, you can’t help but see tha the really does care about you. Lexi and Sam, the two people in the house who were supposed to not hate you in the slightest didn’t even go looking, but the one person who was supposed to not give a fuck about whether you’re breathing or not did.
“Did you- you just called me H?” He stumbles, and a smile comes to your face.
“Yeah? So?” He said it like it was a good thing, but you could never be too sure with him.
“So, you’ve never done that before.” His expression is unreadable. Usually you can tell exactly what he’s thinking, but right now you’re coming up blank.
“Do you not want me to? I can stop saying it.” You wouldn’t ever want to do something that he’s uncomfortable with, you just thought that’s what everyone called him.
“No!” he blurts. “No, please don’t stop. I like the way it sounds coming from you.”
“Alright.” you grin “H.”
The smile that breaks out over his face is the biggest that you’ve ever seen. “Wait, what did you mean I already did?” He wonders. 
 “You just risked getting sick to go out in the pouring rain to try to find me.” Which reminds you, if he doesn’t get in a warm shower and some dry clothes soon, he’s going to catch something.
“It’s the least I could do.” His cheeks are turning a light shade of pink, and you really hope that it’s a blush and not him being cold.
“Yeah, but that shows me that you care, H.” You say, getting up from the bed and checking to see if you had brought the extra sweatpants and sweatshirt. Unfortunately, you hadn’t. 
“I’m sorry, by the way. Like really sorry. I hate myself for what I said. I’m so stupid. You were just trying to save me and I was a dick.” You appreciate the sentiment, you really do, but right now, that’s not your concern.
“It’s fine.” You mumble, because, really, it is.
“No, it’s not.” He doesn’t want to believe it, but it really is. You wouldn’t be letting him drip excessive amounts of water on the floor if you were still mad at him. 
“Yes, H, it is. Now come on, let me go get you some clean clothes. Go get in the shower, there are towels in the bathroom.” You’ve come to the realization that you’d have to retrieve his clothes, seeing as you hadn’t exactly planned for something like this.
“Y/n, it’s fine. I can just go take a shower in my room.” He tries, but you immediately refuse.
“No. You can take one in here so I know that you take one and don’t just change into dry clothes.” The look he gives you lets you know that was exactly what he was planning to do.
“I’m not gonna win this, am I?” You chuckle, pleased that he knows well enough to not argue with you any further on this.
“Not a chance, now get your ass in there.” You put your hands on his shoulders and nudge him towards the bathroom. You try your hardest to not think about the way his muscles ripple underneath your digits.
“Alright, alright. I’m going.” He concedes, trodding into the bathroom.
You wait until you hear the water running before you exit the room to find his clothes. You make the journey to his room, grabbing boxers and a pair of sweatpants from his bag. You don’t bother trying to find a shirt, knowing from the countless times that he’s stripped out of one to take a nap at a friends house that he never wears them to bed.
You make your way back to your room, sitting the clothes down on the small table sat outside the bathroom door.
His vast collection of rings is placed on the table as well. He must have taken them off and sat them there after you left. 
Without thinking, your hand reaches out and picks up the rose ring that adorns his hand more often than not. It’s gorgeous, and you can’t stop your fingertips from running across the designs. The band is etched with leaves and vines, and upon further inspection, you feel that there’s a little caterpillar seemingly hidden on the inner part of the ring.
It’s heavy in your hand and you can't help but wonder just how much metal was used to make this ring. It’s obvious that it was hand etched, so your mind tries to picture how big the piece was before the carving started.
After a few moments, you place it back on the table, picking up his Cartier ring. You wonder for a moment how something so simple could cost the ridiculous price that it did. Sure, it’s absolutely gorgeous, but the price tag that you know it carries is enough to make the appeal fade. You don’t have the luxury of dropping thousands on a ring.
He opens the door and you immediately drop the ring, cheeks burning from being caught. You know how much he adores his rings, and you’re scared for a split second that you’ve overstepped, crossed a boundary that he wouldn’t be comfortable with.
All your worries are washed away, though, when he says, “Wear it.” He reaches over for his clothes, a towel wrapped around his waist.
You gawk at him. Was he serious? “H, I can’t do that.” You go to scramble away, before your eyes get caught on the way that the water droplets from the shower cling to him, the sheen making his tattoos even more vivid. God, what you would do to trace every line and seemingly miniscule detail.
He gives you a soft smile, and your heart speeds up to a rate that has to be unhealthy, especially since you’re sitting still, your back rimrod straight. “Yes you can. Go ahead, put it on.” He urges.
You sigh, picking up the Cartier ring that you had been admiring moments prior and slip it on your ring finger, that being the one you wear all rings on. You glance up at him through your lashes and you can see the way that his eyes seem to have lit up. You try to ignore the way your stomach flutters, the butterflies going absolutely wild.
He chuckles, looking down at your finger, where the ring sits, looking about five sizes too small. You join along, letting a lighthearted laugh slip through your lips. It truly was ginormous on you, but you expected no less. He does have large hands, after all.
“I’ve got a chain around here somewhere, keep the ring.” He says nonchalantly, like he’s not gifting you a fucking Cartier ring.
“Harry, no, it’s too expensive.” You can’t possibly accept this ring, so you really hope that he doesn’t fight you on it. You’re pretty sure you’d say yes to just about anything if he keeps looking at you like he’s just seen the most precious thing in the world.
“If you don’t keep it and wear it, I’ll never wear it again, so it might as well be worn by you.” He argues, giving you the stern look that you know well. It’s always the one that says not to argue back, that he’ll just continue pestering you if you do.
Knowing that the argument would go on for hours on end if you didn’t, you reluctantly agree.
He gives a triumphant smile before returning to the bathroom, clothes in hand.
A moment later, he comes back out into your room and your ability to breathe is gone. You swear he’s the most perfect person you’ve ever seen. Sure, you’ve seen how pretty he is before, but you’ve never let yourself truly see how perfect he is. Maybe you prematurely judged that article. Maybe they had a point. 
The muscles in his upper body ripple under his tan skin, making your mouth damn near water. You avert your eyes from his shoulders to his chest, admiring the butterfly inked onto his abdomen. You had always adored that tattoo, at times you even wished that you had thought of the idea before he had. You see the way that the ferns underneath trace his lower stomach, the endings leading a trail right to the band of his sweatpants. 
God, why would you get him gray sweatpants? At this view, your mouth actually does water, wondering how good he would look with even less on.
Him shuffling over to pick up his rings is what breaks you out of your trance, your cheeks heating up from the thoughts that had been running through your mind.
He places each of the rings carefully back on his hands, sans the Cartier ring. He left that one on the table, looking up at you with a smirk.
He begins to make his way out the door, but you stop him.
“H,” you give him your best puppy eyes when he stops and looks over his shoulder at you, “Will you stay with me? I’m scared of thunderstorms.”
“Are you really?” He doesn’t say it in a mocking way, it’s more in a perplexed way. You’re not confused by this in the slightest, as far as he used to be concerned, you’re not scared of anything.
“Yeah,” you admit, “but I also want to get to know you. Feel like we’ve missed a lot while hating each other.”
He sighs, “Never hated you.”
You smile, “I know, I know, but I thought you did. Made me not able to get to know you very well.”
“Alright.” He agrees. “Let me go put my rings up and get that chain for you and then I’ll stay.”
You wait patiently as he does just that, wondering why you had never just taken the time to talk to him before. Would it really have been that simple? 
“Here you are.” He speaks when he reenters the room, walking over to the stand and placing the ring on the chain. Once he’s done, he gently sets it back down, ensuring that the chain doesn’t get tangled, and then trudges over to you.
He sits on the edge of the bed, probably just intending to stay until you fall asleep, and at first you’re fine with that. But then you start to get progressively more tired, and your clinginess starts kicking in, that fact that you’re touch starved not helping.
“H.” you groan, making his ears perk up and his eyes snap to yours.
“Hmm?” he wonders.
You make grabby hands at him. “Come cuddle with me.”
A smile breaks out on his face and your stomach does the flippy thing that makes your heart race.
He slowly crawls towards you, as if he’s giving you enough time to take back your words, to give him any sign that you regret ever asking him to come up to you. Once he’s right beside you and you’ve made no move to stop him, he slips under the covers and pulls you close.
You immediately sigh in content and place your head on his chest, the sleepiness taking over more and more as you listen to his heartbeat against your ear.
RIght before you completely drift off, you mumble, “You’re not as bad as I thought you were.” You hope he hears you, but you don’t have the time to check, sleep overtaking your body and pulling you under.
*
When you wake up the next morning, you let your eyes stay shut, not wanting to be greeted with the sunlight just yet.
You shift slightly and realize that you’re still laying with Harry. You can feel his solid chest under your head, your legs are tangled with his. 
After a moment, you can feel him looking at you, “It’s rude to stare, H.” You joke, expecting him to laugh.
He doesn’t, though, instead he just whispers, “Can’t help it. You’re beautiful.” 
You immediately blush, burning under the compliment. You’re still not used to being this close to Harry in general, but receiving compliments from him is even weirder.
“Can I tell you something?” You look up at him, waiting for him to accept your question.
“Yeah, anything.” He holds eye contact with you, your faces mere inches apart. You could very easily push yourself up and attach your lips to his, but you refrain, not wanting to push too far. You had just started really talking to each other last night.
“I never hated you either.” You say, the words barely audible. You’re ashamed of it, of the fact that you pretended to hate him, probably making everything worse than it had to be.
“Really?” He looks hopeful, like he’s praying that you’re not joking with him. 
“Really. I just thought that you hated me. Figured that we should at least balance each other out.” You let out a humorless laugh, trying to make light of the situation, but you still can’t shake the guilt. You probably could have been lying in bed with him a long time ago had you just made it clear that you didn’t hate him.
“So all this time, neither one of us hated the other, but we both thought we did?” He has a smirk etched on his face, and a very large part of you wants to close the space between the two of you. You can’t handle the smirk right now, not when his chestnut curls are framing his face the way that they are. Not when his bare chest is still pressed against you, warming you up in the most delightful way.
“Basically.” You can’t help but giggle. The situation really is quite ridiculous.
You move to get up and he pouts, holding onto you and trying to get you to stay in his arms, he’s enjoying the warmth that you’re radiating. 
“Where are you going?” He whines, making your throat constrict. He sounds so pretty when he whines.
“I’ve gotta pee, I’ll be right back.” You promise, knowing that the words will soothe him.
“Don’t go…” He tries giving you puppy dog eyes, but they won’t work this time, not when you can feel the urge to use the bathroom growing.
“I have to pee, but I promise I’ll come back to exactly where I was when I’m done.” You reach over to him and push a stray curl behind his ears, reveling in how soft that his hair is.
“Good, I wanna keep cuddling.” He mumbles, and you can’t help but feel the butterflies return yet again. You can’t believe that Harry was just begging you to stay curled up in bed with him.
It all seems a little off, having him in your bed, cuddling with you. Less than twenty four hours prior, you were screaming at each other on a boat about how much you can’t stand each other, and now neither of you do? You come to find out that the both of you were faking it this entire time? The entire situation is a little confusing, but you’re a lot happier with it than you were with being at each other's throats all the time.
Now that the two of you are being more honest with each other, you figure it’s probably time to start being more honest with yourself. And that starts with admitting the feelings that you’ve been suppressing for him. 
You had seen how attractive he was the moment that you had even laid eyes on one of the numerous articles about him. You aren’t shallow though, that’s not what made you have the feelings that you had developed for him. You could also see just how nice he was to everyone else, how he lit up every room that he walked into. How everyone was always put into a better mood just by his presence. You began to fall for that version of himself, the one that he was with everyone else. You had caught feelings before he even said a word to you. There were times when you had been at the same party or event, and you’d be able to feel the effect he had on everyone else. And at first, that was intimidating, but then you felt a pull to him. Like the two of you were magnets and were destined to be together.
But then you actually talked to him, and everything went south.
Now, though, you’ve realized that he’s only like he is with you because he thought that you hated him. Which is absurd to you, but you were quite distant that night. You had been overwhelmed, thinking that you were inferior to him in every way that night. Maybe that’s why he thought that you hated him, because you didn’t show that much interest, because you seemed like you didn’t want to get to know him.
You don’t really know how to process that information. This entire thing had initially been your fault, had you just gotten over yourself and realized that you’re good enough to talk to him, all of this could have been avoided.
As you wash your hands and get ready to exit the bathroom, you can’t help but wonder what everything’s going to be like. How are you going to act around each other? Is it gonna change? Are you still going to bicker or are you going to act like everything’s perfectly fine? 
You scoff at yourself, of course you’re still going to bicker, that’s who you are. Plus, nobody’s perfect, all friends argue about something at points.
When you come out of the bathroom he’s sitting on the end of the bed. You raise your eyebrows in question. “Thought we were gonna keep cuddling?” 
He quickly rises when he sees you. “Had a slightly better idea.” He holds out his hand and waits for you to take it.
“I’m more of a touchy kind of person.” He starts after you take his hand. “I show that I care about people by physical touches.” He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist. “If we’re gonna tell them that we don’t hate each other, we’ve got to at least make it believable.”
“Stop making it sound like we’re pretending.” You laugh. “You just cuddled with me throughout the night. There’s no way in hell we hate each other. But yeah, I’m that way too, so I don't mind the touches.” You assure, pulling back and reconnecting your hands.
He gives you a reassuring look as you walk out of your room and into the sitting room. Sam and Lexi stop the conversation they were having immediately and look over at the two of you. Their jaws are on the floor within moments, obviously not believing what they're seeing. 
“Why are you holding hands?” Sam blurts, breaking the silence that had blanketed the room.
“H, you only do that with girls you’re dating or girls that you’re friends with. What’s happening?” Lexi adds, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes.
“Wanna explain?” Harry asks, squeezing your hand.
“Sure.” You say.
You begin to explain it to them, making sure to get all the details. Harry’s mostly quiet beside you, only inputting anything when you forget something.
For a moment after you finish, the silence is back. Lexi and Sam look at you like you’re absolutely insane. After a minute of letting their brains process the information, they finally let smiles break out on their faces, jumping up from the couch to hug the both of you, excited that you guys can finally get along.
*
After a little while of the four of you sitting around and talking, it’s decided that everyone should go out on the yacht. This time, though, nobody will be stealing any keys.
Once you get out to the desired spot on the water and anchor the boat, you turn to Harry. “Hey, H?” 
“Yeah, love?” He used the term like it’s no big deal, but it makes your stomach churn in the best way possible.
“Wanna go swimming? Promise not to think you’ve drowned again.” You chuckle.
Harry doesn’t seem as amused though, still feeling guilty about how he treated you. “Sure, promise not to be a dick again.”
You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your head into his chest. “I told you it was alright, H. Stop beating yourself up over it.”
He sighs, nodding his head. You grab his hand, pulling him along the deck to the edge of the boat.
“Wanna jump together?” You look over at him and see the smile break out across his face, the dimples and eye crinkles out in full force.
“Yeah, love, let’s do it.” Before you can think too much about the second use of the word, he’s counting down from three and then you’re jumping, body submerging into the crystal water.
If you had been paying more attention to anyone besides Harry, you would have seen the way that Lexi and Sam were caught up in watching you, wondering how in the world the two of you had done a full one eighty in less that twenty four hours. Sure, they wanted the two of you to get along, but they never expected you to get this close as fast as you did.
After a while of swimming around with Harry, you decide to get out and try to tan, seeing as not everyone can be actors that get paid to go swimming and get tans.
As you do so, you can feel Harry’s eyes on your body, but you choose not to acknowledge it. For a moment, you want to invite him to come tan with you, but you don’t want to make your feelings too obvious to him.
*
When it starts to get dark, Lexi proposes that everyone head back to the deck. You agree, ready to go home and get out of your bikini. 
Harry tries to get you to drive the yacht, even trying to teach you, but to no avail, you have absolutely no skill when it comes to driving boats.
Once you get to the docks and clamber off the yacht, the group splits up, Lexi and Sam going towards their car while you and Harry head towards his.
“Are you hungry, darling?” He ponders once you’re settled in the car.
“I mean a little bit, why?” You reach over to turn on the radio, letting the soft sounds of music play through the car.
“I saw this cute little diner when I was looking for you last night.” He says, handing you his phone. “Plug up the aux cord and play something from Spotify.”
You scroll through his spotify, seeing that his work out playlist is just One Direction songs. You almost snort, but don’t want to give away the song you’re going to choose.
After another moment of scrolling, you turn the volume on the speakers all the way up, clicking on “What Makes You Beautiful” and letting the opening chords play through the car.
He smirks, looking over at you. “I hope you know that you’re expected to scream this with me.”
Your features mirror his, “Oh, trust me, I planned on it.”
*
When you reach the diner, you see just how cute it really is. But then you realize that the two of you had been in the car for almost twenty minutes, which arguably isn’t a long time, but to walk this far it would have taken forever.
“H, you walked this far looking for me?” You ask, although you already know the answer.
“Yeah. Well, technically, I walked further.” He blushes at his words and your heart melts in your chest. You can’t help but feel a little guilty, though. It had been storming, full on thunder and lightning every few seconds. He could have gotten hurt, yet he put his safety to the side because he thought that you hadn’t come home yet. If only you had put aside your pettiness and just let everyone know that you had arrived home safely, he wouldn’t have had to walk out in the storm at all.
You walk into the diner, shaking the thoughts from your head. Harry leads you to a booth near the back, one that’s placed right next to a window with a wonderful view.
Moments after you’re settled into your seat, a waiter comes up to you and takes your order. You notice that he’s paying special attention to you, and it makes you slightly uncomfortable, so you turn to Harry after reciting your order. “What do you want, baby?”
He gives you a questioning look but ultimately goes along with it, not even missing a beat. He gives his order to the waiter and waits until he walks away to turn back to you. “What was that about?”
“He was staring at me, looking me up and down, it made me really uncomfortable.” You say, looking down at your hands. “Thought if he believed we were together that he’d stop, which he didn’t.” You scoff at the audacity of the waiter. “Sorry if I ended up just making you uncomfortable too.”
He reaches over the table, taking your hands in his. “Hey, it’s alright. I wasn’t uncomfortable, just took me by surprise, is all.” He gives your hands a gentle squeeze. “If he comes back over and makes eyes at you, I’ll put him in his place, okay?”
You chuckle, nodding at him. Hopefully, the waiter would get caught up with other customers or would learn some manners so that he didn’t say anything, but either way, you knew you’d be okay.
“So, anyways, how can you be so bad at driving the yacht? It’s just a boat.” Harry asks, obviously trying to hold in a laugh.
“It’s really not that hard to be bad at it.” You defend. “I know plenty of people that can’t drive a boat.”
“Have they ever tried?” His eyebrows raise.
“No.” You mumble, flicking your eyes from his gaze.
“Well that explains that.” He pauses until you meet his gaze again. “No, but seriously, it’s way easier to drive than a car.”
You clear your throat. “I’m not that good at that either, H.” 
“Really?” He looks embarrassed, sorry to have pushed you, like he was worried that he had gone too far. 
You really didn’t mind, though, it’s not something you’re ashamed of, you just don’t really like driving. “Really. Ever noticed how I don’t drive anywhere?”
His eyes widen in realization. “Yeah, actually. If nobody else is available, I used to drive you places.” 
“Yeah, well, that’s because I suck at driving.” You say, looking down at your hands, which you realize are still being held by his. “I just feel more comfortable with other people driving me around.”
You feel him squeeze your hands again, the rings biting into your skin slightly. “I thought maybe you just didn’t have a car.”
Your head snaps up, eyes meeting his. You flash him a dirty look and go to pull your hands from his. Before you can, though, he squeezes tighter, making you stop for a moment.
“Not like that! It’s just that everything you do is in close proximity to your house.” Your hateful look subsides. You had seemed to forget for a moment that you weren’t enemies anymore. You were… friends? “There’s not really a need for you to have a car unless you were to drive somewhere far away, but usually that’s only for work and you fly.” He continues.
“Well, yeah, that’s true. But I do have a car, I just prefer not to drive it myself.” He nods his head, seeming to understand enough to let it slide.
You fall into a comfortable silence, his hands still clutching yours. You let your eyes scan over his face before wandering back to his seafoam green eyes. God, his eyes are beautiful. Everything about him is beautiful, honestly.
You’re broken out of your examination of him by the waiter coming back with your food and beverage choices. He sits Harry’s down first, and then places yours down. He doesn’t look at Harry again, just looking at you as he asks if there’s anything else that’s needed. You see his eyes trail downwards, and you give Harry’s hand a squeeze, causing him to clear his throat at the manager.
“Excuse me, sir?” This catches the waiter’s attention, making him turn back to Harry. “Could you maybe not eye fuck my girlfriend right in front of me?”
The waiter balks at him, and then tries to deny it. “I- I wasn’t!”
“Let’s not lie about it, you definitely were.” His voice is raspy and it makes your heart rate pick up. “And you were making her uncomfortable, so how about you explain to one of your coworkers why you need to switch them tables, yeah?”
The waiter just nods, walking away without so much as a glance back.
“Thank you, H.” He doesn’t reply, just squeezes your hands to let you know you’re alright. He lets go to eat, but you can see the way that his jaw is clenched.
“Hey, what’s up, you’re tense.” You try to meet his eyes, but he won’t look at you.
“I just don’t like the way he was looking at you.” He mumbles. 
You make the split second decision to walk over to his side of the booth and slide in next to him. He immediately makes room for you, lifting up his arm so you can crawl into his side.
“I’m alright, you know. I just don’t like being looked at like an object.” You whisper into his side.
“I know, love. I know you’re alright, you’re strong.” He squeezes you closer to him and you feel a smile come to your face. “And I don’t like it either. I’ll punch him next time he looks at you like that.”
You reach up and run your hand through his hair, smiling at him. He leans into your touch, and that’s when you realize just how close you are. He’s got you pulled into his side, one of your thighs is slung over his, and your faces are what seems to be only a few millimeters apart.
Every part of you wants to close the difference, to press your lips to his. Every fiber of your being wants to know what his lips feel like, wants to know how they taste. You don’t lean in, though, not wanting to ruin what the two of you have going on.
You look back down, pulling your food over to you and finishing your meal.
After the check is paid, he drives you home, the only sounds in the car being the radio and the tap of his fingers against the steering wheel. 
*
The next day flows by smoothly, everyone just chilling on the yacht and going for a swim.
When you get back to the house that night, though, Sam and Lexi come to your room to tell you that they’ll be leaving early, babbling on about some really good sale on jeans or something. They ask if you want to go with them but you politely decline, having absolutely no interest in jeans that, even when on sale, probably cost thousands of dollars.
They bid you a goodnight and let you know that they’ll be leaving early in the morning, most likely before you get up.
You wish them a safe trip and then roll over in bed, thinking about what this would mean. It would just be you and Harry for a few days. Would you spend a bunch of time together? Would you even talk that much? 
You don’t know how to spend that much alone time with Harry, mostly because you’ve only been close enough to spend any amount of time with him for a few days.
You’re anxious, probably more than you have been in a while. You can feel your hands sweating and your breath getting caught in your throat.
Suddenly, a knock comes at your door and you immediately yell, “Come in!”
You expect it to be Lexi or Sam, but it’s Harry.
“Hey, don't you mind if I hang with you?” He asks, fiddling with his fingers. “I’m kinda bored, plus the other night I saw that mini puzzle you brought so I was thinking maybe we could do that?”
You smile at his observational skills. “Yeah, it’s no problem. Come on, I’ll get the puzzle.”
You walk over to the carry on that you had packed and grabbed the puzzle. It’s only a hundred pieces, but each one is so small and oddly shaped that you had never been able to get the placement right. You had figured you’d try to do so on this trip, but you hadn’t seemed to have the time.
You trudge back over to the bed, sitting down a piece of cardboard that you had found in a storage closet when exploring the closet a few days prior, and spread out the pieces.
You immediately get to work, him doing the same. Every time he would reach to grab a piece, his rings clack together, and you can’t help but gaze at them. You love the way that the rings look on him.
He looks over at you, catching you staring at his hands. He chuckles, before hopping off the bed, seeming to remember something.
“I’ll be right back.” He promises, not waiting for your response before coming back with one hand behind his back.
“Hold out your hand.” He demands, and you do so, holding out your right hand. “No, no, palm side down.” You flip your hand over and then he slides a ring onto your right hand. 
After it’s placed on your hand, you look down, realizing that it’s a replica of his rose ring, but this one actually fits you, which means that he would have to have bought it specifically for you.
You can feel your chest tightening and your eyes begin to get a little blurry. His gesture is so cute and all you want to do is wrap him up in your arms.
“H, when did you even get this?” You say, gesturing to the ring.
“The other day after everyone went to bed, I drove to London and got it.” He says, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “I saw you looking at it the other day, figured I’d get one that would fit you so that we could match.”
“Thank you, H. That’s so sweet of you.” You wrap your arms around him, and without thinking, you crawl into his lap, straddling him. “How do you even think of things like this?”
He doesn’t say anything about the way that you're sitting, just wraps his arms around your back and pulls you impossibly closer.
“When I’m not pretending to hate people, I’m actually pretty smart.” he chuckles, and you can feel the vibration of the action throughout your body.
“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Styles.” You mumble into his neck. “You’re still an idiot.”
“Hey!” He whines, pushing you off of him only to tackle you into the mattress, tucking his head into the crook of your neck.
Subconsciously, you raise your hand up, digging into his hair and beginning to play with it. Neither of you say anything, just enjoying each other’s presence. After a while, you start to feel Harry getting heavier and heavier, his breathing getting more even. 
You try to stay in that position, loving the feeling of him wrapped up on you, but he’s a lot bigger than you and all the muscle he’s put on makes him a lot heavier than you can handle, the weight being too much on your chest and making you feel like you can’t breathe.
You roll him off of you, trying to be as gentle as possible so that you don’t wake him up, but you fail epicly. The second that you’ve got him completely off of you, he grabs your waist, pulling you over to lay on him like he was on you moments prior. Your legs are tucked between his, your face pressed into his neck. His warmth is radiating into your skin and his scent is swirling around you.
“Night, love.” He mumbles, angling his face down to kiss the top of your head.
“Night, H.” You murmur back, pulling the blanket over the two of you.
You focus on the way that his chest feels rising and falling underneath yours. You can feel his heartbeat, the way that it seems to be slightly faster than usual. You don’t think too much of it, though, he’s probably just hot.
Slowly, your thoughts begin to slow down, the prospect of a good night’s sleep pulling you further and further under until you’re dreaming about Harry.
*
When you wake up the next morning, you’re sweating. At first, you don’t think much of it, you were sandwiched between Harry and a wool blanket, after all. But then you realize that there’s something off with the way that Harry feels.
He’s radiating more heat than he normally does, which is already more than most people do.
You’re worried that he could be sick, so you scurry to the bathroom to find the thermometer that you saw when you first started staying in the house.
You make quick work of cleaning it off with an alcohol wipe, not wanting to risk him getting anything worse than he possibly already could have.
You shake him awake, ignoring his groans of protest, and make him put the thermometer under his tongue. You press the button and wait for it to beep, signifying that it’s done. 
You feel like you’re going to be sick when you look at the digital number that’s being presented to you. 102 degrees. That’s not ideal. 
“Hospital, H. Now.” You demand, not giving any room to argue on this. There’s no way that you’re going to let him lay in bed with a fever when you don’t even know what’s causing it. Maybe some people would, but you refuse. There are countless reasons why he could have this high of a fever, and each of them had different recommended treatments. You weren’t going to risk it and treat him for the wrong thing, only to make something worse.
He grumbles a “no” and you shake your head. Of course he would fight you on this.
“I’m not risking your life, H. Get the fuck up.” You wait for a moment, watching him shake his head no again. Once you know he won’t get up, you wrap your forearms underneath his arms and lift, dragging his lanky figure out of bed. 
Once he’s completely off the bed and standing next to you, you lift his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders so that you can support his weight. You grunt from the added stress on your shoulders.
You begin to make your way out to the car, making sure to stop on the way out the door to grab the keys from the hook and a water bottle from the fridge for him.
You unlock his car and all but shove him into the passenger seat, leaning across him and buckling his seatbelt for him.
Once that’s completed, you rush around the car and slip into the driver’s side, buckling your own seatbelt before inserting the key in the ignition and turning the car on.
“You hate driving, you can’t get me there.” He tries to argue, and you just laugh.
“You couldn’t drive even if you wanted to. Plus, I can get you there. I’ll be fine.” There’s no way that you were going to chicken out of this. Sure, you hated driving, but you hated the idea of something happening to him even more.
“No, y/n, it’s fine, if you don’t like driving you shouldn’t have to drive me.” The fact that he’s thinking of you right now, of all times, makes your heart rate quicken. How was he always so sweet? “I’ll be alright. I’ll just sweat it out.”
“No, Harry, you will not just sweat it out.” You say, rubbing a hand over your face. “You could die if it gets too much worse. There could be something seriously wrong. And you’re probably like this because you went out in the rain looking for me.” Sure, it’s been a few days, but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t from that. The symptoms could have just not been showing up until now. “And trust me when I say that I am most definitely not letting you die.” You give him a look when he starts to protest again.
The drive to the hospital is shaky. There’s a few times where you think you’re going to freak out, but each time, Harry reaches his hand over and squeezes your knee in reassurance and you instantly feel your breathing even out again. 
Thankfully, you make it there safely. Throughout the trip he had drank the entire water bottle and he seemed to be more alert than he was when you woke him up. You still come over to his side of the car and help him hobble into the hospital, though, not wanting him to accidentally fall and break anything.
You sit him down in one of the chairs and walk to the counter to check him in. You come back with the paperwork that the lady handed you, and you’re surprised to know that you know the majority of the answers. You only have to pester him when you get to the section about his family’s medical history and when you need him to sign the paperwork.
You quickly go back to the counter to give her the pages back. She smiles and assures you that she’ll get everything entered and that the doctor will be right with him.
The doctor comes out and calls his name. He takes one glance in her direction and then grabs your hand. “Y/N, can you come back with me?” He gives you the best puppy dog eyes that he can manage.
You chuckle, agreeing immediately. How could you ever say no to that face?
Once you get to the room that the doctor led you too, she begins to ask a few questions. After answering them, she takes Harry’s temperature, the thermometer that she uses reading the same as the one at the house did. She decided to do a few tests, some of which nearly make Harry throw up, and then comes back with the results a little while later.
“It seems like he has the flu. Nothing too serious as of right now, though. I’ll give you a prescription to get filled for him since it doesn’t seem like he’ll be doing much for himself until his fever goes down, at least.
You smile, thanking her for letting you know, and gather Harry and the prescription paper. On the way back to the house, you drop off the prescription and wait for it to be filled. 
“Can I go in and get some candy?” He asks as you get out of the car to go pick up the medicine.
“No, H,” You see him pout at you, so you quickly continue, “but I can go in and get it for you.”
The smile that he gives you makes your world slow. All you want to do for the remainder of time is just make him smile and bask in the light that it gives off. But you can’t focus on that right now, you have to go in and get his candy and his medicine and then get him back home.
He tells you what he wants, whining about how it’s his absolute favorite candy. You go buy it for him, deciding to get a few of them so that he’ll have some for later, hopefully for when after he feels better. You also get him another water bottle, knowing that he’ll have to take his medicine once you get back to the car.
You quickly go to the counter, giving them his information and then walking back out to the car. 
After paying for everything, you rush back to the car and give him his medicine. After he’s taken it, he begins to munch on his candy as you drive the both of you back to the rental.
Once you reach the rental, the ride back goes much smoother than the one there, you take him back to your room and lay him on the bed.
“I can’t sleep in here.” You frown, wondering why he’s had the sudden change of heart. “You’ll get the flu too.”
You roll your eyes at him. “I’ve slept in the same bed as you already.” You sit on the bed next to him, reaching up and combing your hair through the sweaty tendrils. “I literally woke up on top of you, if I’m going to get it, I’ll get it whether you sleep in here tonight or not.”
He grumbles, but ultimately doesn’t put up that big of a fight, knowing that if he doesn, he’ll lose. 
“Do you wanna take a shower?” You mumble, still letting your digits card through his hair.
“Are you trying to tell me I stink?” He tries to laugh but it comes out more as a cough and you can’t help but want to wrap him up in your arms and take any and all of the pain that he could be feeling away.
“No, you actually smell really good for being sick, but you have a lot of dried sweat on you from your fever.” You smile down at him, seeing him give you a lazy, lopsided grin in return.
“Can I take a bath?” He asks, eyes lighting up at the prospect of being able to sit down but still get the sweat off of him.
“Yeah, that’ll work, bubs.” You don’t even think about the pet name until it slips out of your mouth. You want to take it back, scared that he’ll hate it.
All your worries, along with any trace of regret, washes away when you see his smile grow, the dimples popping deep into his cheeks.
“If I put bubbles in the water so that you can’t see anything, will you wash my hair?” He questions, and there’s no way that you’re going to say no to him. And you realize that it’s not just because he’s sick. It’s because it’s just so easy to give into him, to want to give him everything that he asks for, just about no matter what it is.
You’re not going to let him know just how easily that you want to agree with him, though, so you drag it out just a little longer. :You’re really milking this for all it’s worth aren’t you?”
“I mean, I guess. I don’t know.” He sighs, looking like he’s trying to find the right words. You stay quiet, waiting for him to find the ones that he’s searching for. “I just really like it when you play with my hair, and I’m assuming that it’ll feel even better if you were to wash my hair.” His cheeks flush crimson. “Just really like having your hands in my hair, I guess.”
You feel like you’re going to explode with the overflow of emotions that you’re currently experiencing, so you decide not to drag it out any more than you already have, knowing that you’ll regret it if you do. “Fine, yeah, H. I’ll wash your hair for you.”
The way that his eyes light up makes it all the more worth it. You’d do anything to see him have that look on his face more often. You used to see a lot more of that, before things started happening that scared him. You found yourself wishing, more often than not, that he had never had someone find his address, and that he had never had people hold him at knife point. He had been slightly less open after that, kind of like he didn’t trust that many people anymore. And, even though you hadn’t admitted it since you were pretending to hate everything about him, you had missed the way that his eyes would sparkle at the simplest things, and how he would be the first to jump at the idea of a night out.
“Thank you!” He lunges up from his spot on the bed to hug you, wrapping you in his arms and not letting go for a moment.
After letting him keep you in his embrace for what you deem is long enough, you push him towards the bathroom.
“Go get the bath ready, I’ll go get you some clothes.” You nudge him, but then realize something. Before you walk out, you take his hands in yours, sliding his rings off this nimble fingers one by one until they’re all in your palms. “I’ll take these to your room and put them up, alright?”
“Yeah, do you still have yours?” You nod, pointing to the rose ring on the dresser, sitting right next to his Cartier ring on the chain. He smiles, then waddles into the bathroom.
You make your way to his room and rifle through his suitcase, trying to find something that isn’t another pair of sweatpants or swimming trunks. You want him to be comfortable but not too hot, and you don’t know if he’d be comfortable in just boxers. 
You end up finding a pair of shorts at the very bottom. You grab those and some boxers, along with a hoodie of his for yourself, before heading back to your room.
You don’t hear the water running when you enter/ “Are you ready, H?” 
“Yeah, you’re good!” You slip on the hoodie before entering the bathroom. You place his clothes on the counter, out of the way from everything, and come sit on the floor next to the tub. 
The water and the bubbles come up to the bottom of his butterfly tattoo. You trace it with your eyes, and before you can even think about what in the world you’re doing, your hand is reaching out to trace it. You stop yourself halfway there and look up at him, your cheeks aflame.
“Go ahead.” He urges. “You can touch.”
You let your hand travel the distance to his abdomen. You begin to trace the lines of the butterfly. The wings, the patterns, the antenna. You can feel the muscles in his stomach clench as you venture towards the bottom of the wings, so you travel back upwards with your hand. 
After you finish tracing what seems to be every line in the tattoo, you look up at him, slowly moving your hand north, but stopping slightly above the butterfly. Once he gives his nod of approval, you move up to the swallows, loving how they look on him. 
Before you’re even done with those, he nods again, urging you to continue. So, you do just that, tracing the lettering on his body and moving down his arm to run over the ship, the rose, the hands. You trace everything that you can, ending at the little cross tattooed on his hand. 
“You missed a few.” He rasps, and you quirk your brow in confusion. The only ones that you know of that could have been missed are the ones submerged under the water. 
He doesn’t say anything, just lifts up his arm to show you the tattoos. You immediately reach back out, tracing over the bird cage and the masks, along with the lettering there. You can feel his body shiver at your touch, and you can’t help but mimic the action. The feeling of his skin under your own is electrifying.
“They’re all so beautiful, H.” You whisper, not completely trusting your voice yet.
“Thank you.” His voice isn’t much higher than yours.
You shake your head, trying to rid your head of the thoughts of him. You clear your throat and reach for the shampoo bottle. You pour a generous amount into your hand and begin to lather it into his hair, massaging his scalp with your fingers as you do so.
He lets out a sound that’s a mix between a pleased sigh and a moan and you almost choke on the air that you’re filling your lungs with.
“Feels so good.” He mumbles, letting his eyes slip shut. You can’t help but smile at him, the way that he looks so peaceful, so relaxed and utterly himself that all you can do is grin at him.
“Does it?” You inquire, knowing for a fact that it does, just wanting to keep the conversation going for a little longer. There’s something about the raspiness in his voice that makes you never want to stop hearing it.
“Yeah, feels better than just about anything else I’ve ever experienced.” This time, he lets out a groan that’s so close to a growl that you have to take a moment to breathe.
“I’m glad.” You all but squeak.
After you rinse his hair out and begin to apply the conditioner to his hair, he looks up at you. “Hey, mind if I tell you something?”
“Yeah, go ahead, bubs. You can tell me anything.”
He seems to mull it over in his head for a moment and then speaks up again. “Promise not to get weird or anything?”
You’re beginning to get slightly worried. Part of you is scared that he’s going to tell you that he killed someone and now he needs help hiding the body or something extreme like that. Although, if he asked, you definitely would help him, that’s just the kind of friend that you are. “Yeah, I promise.”
He looks up at you through his lashes, making sure that he’s holding eye contact with you. “I kinda, um, like you.”
You smile, he’s so dramatic for no reason. “I kinda like you, too. You’re not as awful as I thought you were.”
“Thank you, but that’s not really what I meant by that.” He has a slight grimace on his face, like he’s scared that what comes out of his mouth next will hurt him in some way.
“What did you mean then?” He still seems hesitant, scared even. “You can tell me, bubs. I don’t bite.”
He takes a deep breath, settling himself. “I meant, I have feelings. For you.” You feel like your heart stops. All the breath is sucked from your lungs. Harry Styles? Likes you? “I don’t know for sure when they turned from ‘oh, she’s pretty and seems sweet’ to ‘I Wish that she didn’t hate me so maybe I’d have a chance’, but they did.” You feel him reach out and take your hand in yours, and all the emotions running through your body threaten to spill out. “And, trust me, I know that I treated you like shit and I don’t deserve you or your love but I just had to tell you.”
“Are you telling me that Harry Styles has a crush on me?” You ask, slightly chuckling.
“If that’s what you wanna call it, yeah.” He says, cheeks getting more and more red by the second.
You shake your head, not wanting to get too excited. He had a fever. Fevers can cause confusion and can make people think things that they don’t mean. “You don’t mean that. You have a fever, you'll feel different when you wake up in the morning.”
His face falls, and you immediately want to take back what you said. “I promise you that I won’t.”
“How do you know that?” You don’t think you could just forget the words that he’s saying to you.
“Because I didn’t just start feeling this way.” Relief surges through your body, and you can feel the tears start to prick at your eyes.
“Really?” You really won’t be able to handle it if this is all a side effect of the fever.
“Really.” He assures, brushing his thumb in soothing circles on your hand.
“Well, lucky for you, I happen to understand why you acted like you did and I think that you deserve me. I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you.” You had never thought that Harry would like you as any more than a friend, even before you actually met. All your friends had told you that you guys would be great together, you just had to meet him. You always had your doubts, though.
He scoffs, “Yeah, alright, we can pretend that’s true. You’re literally perfect.”
Your heart expands at his words, how does he always seem to know exactly what to say? “So are you, H. I’ve seen it for a long time, just didn’t wanna be the girl that loved you even though you hated me.”
HIs eyes widen and a smile covers his face. “You love me?”
“I’m getting there.” You admit.
“Come here.” He gestures for you to get closer.
You scramble towards him, getting as close as possible without physically climbing into the tub.
He leans in, closing the gap between the two of you, letting his lips ghost over yours for a moment before you pull back.
“Let’s rinse out your hair and then finish up and I’ll kiss you for real, alright?” There’s no way that you’ll be able to kiss him the way that you want to while he’s still sitting in the bathtub.
He nods and lets you continue. You rinse the conditioner out of his hair, then get up to leave the bathroom so that he can get dressed. Before you can walk away though, he grabs your hand and pulls you back. He makes a kissy face and you lean down to peck his lips, knowing that he’ll just pout until you give in.
Moments after you exit the bathroom, he walks out looking completely perfect. You can see the tiger tattoo on his thigh, and you make the mental note to kiss over it later.
“Kissy?” He asks, coming towards you and wrapping his arms around your waist.
You sling your arms around his neck, slotting your hands into your hair. You nod, leaning in to kiss him, for real this time.
He wastes no time in kissing you back, this one holding a lot more passion than you ever thought a kiss could hold.
Your lips are molding with his, fitting together like they’re the missing piece that you needed to complete your puzzle.
His tongue slides over your bottom lip, asking permission, which you gladly give, opening your mouth and letting his tongue explore.
You pull away after a moment to catch your breath. Looking up at him, you see everything that you had been missing. “Promise me this doesn’t change when we go back to our real lives.”
He brings his hand up, cupping your cheek. You lean into your touch. “I promise you that, as long as you’ll have me,” he kisses your forehead,  “I’ll always be right here to tell you that you’re beautiful,” your temples, “that you’re all I can think about.” your cheeks. “And, as long as you’ll let me, I’ll kiss you over and over again.” He finally lets his lips glide over yours again.
After he pulls away, you breathe, “Good, because I don;t think I’d be able to go back to normal after that.”
“Neither could I.” He assures you. “Come on, love, let’s go lay down.”
With that, you crawl into bed next to Harry, cuddling into his side. After a moment, he decides you're not close enough, pulling you in until your head is on his chest and your leg is thrown over his thighs. 
You smile in content as he kisses your forehead. Who would have thought that you’d be in this place, with him? Never in a million years could you have dreamed this up for yourself. And honestly, if someone had told you a mere weeks ago that you would be kissing Harry and falling asleep next to him, you would have laughed in their face, probably even asked them if they had gone mental.
But now, here you were, laying cuddled up with the man that makes your entire world seem to light up, and you couldn’t be happier. It had been a rocky road getting here, but you would go through that day on the yacht a million times as long as you ended up back here, held tightly in his arms.
Listening to the beat of his heart, to the way that his breaths are evening out die to the comfort that having you near him brings, you drift off to sleep
*
You’re being shaken awake much too earlier, and you turn to gripe at whoever chose to wake you up. But then you realize that it’s Harry, and your face immediately softens.
“Hey, you.” He says, pecking your nose.
“Hey, why are we up so early?” You grumble.
He chuckles. “We’ve got a plane to catch.” You audibly groan, probably a lot more dramatic than it has to be. “Come on, it’s time to get out stuff together. Gotta go back to the real world.”
You sigh, not wanting to go, but you know that you have to, so you stumble out of bed and get all your stuff together. 
You scramble to ensure that everything’s ready, even making sure that you clasp your new necklace on your neck and slide the new ring on your finger.
Once you zip up your bag and stand up, wracking your brain to make sure that everything is in order, Harry comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. You immediately lean into his embrace.
“You look really fucking cute in my clothes.” He mumbles, pressing his face into your hair.
“Why thank you, never got your tour hoodie, thought I’d see how it looked.” You smirk, knowing that you had, in fact, received a tour hoodie, you just hadn’t worn it yet.
He says nothing about that, though, just groaning, “It looks fantastic.” before pushing away from your body.
“Are you ready?” He asks, looking over all the packed bags, and then over to you. HIs eyes stop at the ring around your neck, heart swelling in pride that you’re wearing his ring.
“Yeah, don’t wanna go, but I know I have to. I’ve gotta go back to work.” You groan.
“I meant what I said last night, you know?” He blurts, and you can’t help but feel relieved. He had been acting like he meant it, but the verbal confirmation made you feel even better.
“Which part?” You say, playing coy.
“All of it.” He promises. “Every single word.”
You hum in content, walking back into his arms and pressing into his chest. “I mean what I said too.”
You pull away after a moment, walking to pack your stuff into the car.
After dropping off the rental car and going through the motions of getting ready and boarding the plane, you finally sit down, right next to Harry. This time, though, you aren’t dreading the plane ride.
*
After the plane lands, Harry throws you his keys, telling you that Sam and Lexi were supposed to have dropped the car off with his extra set an hour prior. He assures you that he’ll get your luggage.
“I can tell you’re tired, sweets, go on to the car, okay?” You nod in agreement before heading out to the parking lot to find his car.
On the ride back to your apartment, you doze off in the passenger seat, his hand on your knee and fingers tracing random patterns lulling you to sleep.
He wakes you up by kissing all over your face, and you must admit that it’s probably the best way for someone to wake you up. Well, not just anyone, just him.
He gets your bags from the trunk, walking you to the door. As you’re about to go inside, he kisses your cheek, letting his mouth linger there for a moment. “Can I come over later? Gotta put up my stuff and check the mail, but I wanna see you again.”
You smile. You’d like to see him again, too. “Yeah, sure. Just come over whenever.” 
He leans down and gives you a quick peck on the corner of your mouth before heading home.
In the time that you’re alone, you put everything away that you ended up not wearing and throw the dirty clothes in the wash.
As you’re fixing yourself dinner (which is arguably enough for two, but that’s just a coincidence...maybe), you hear a knock on your door. 
You rush over, checking through the hole to make sure that it’s Harry. When you open the door, he immediately sweeps you up into a hug. “God, I missed you.”
“You were gone for less that three hours, H.” You breathe.
“I know, but I still missed you.” He pulls back from you slightly, still keeping his arms wrapped around your waist. “Am I not allowed to miss my girl?”
Your heart skips a beat. “Your girl?”
“Um, fuck, I- you don’t have to- don’t feel pressured.” You cut him off by placing your lips on his.
“Calm down, H.” You urge.
“It’s just, I don’t know, do you want to be my girlfriend?” He asks, eyes looking down between the two of you at his shoes. 
“God, yes.” You clear your throat, realizing how desperate you probably sounded. “I mean, yeah. But I’m not gonna be able to be like all your other girlfriends were.”
“What do you mean by that?” He wonders.
“I can’t just drop everything and come with you while you’re on tour.” You give him an apologetic look. You know how much he loves having his girl with him while he’s performing. “I can’t go on excessive vacations with you, and by excessive I mean for months at a time. I don’t get paid to stand around and look pretty like the rest of them did.”
“I don’t want you to be like the rest of them were. I want you to be you.” He says, stroking your cheek with his hand. “Plus, I mean, you could technically come on tour with me as part of my crew if you wanted.” He suggests. “Be one of the photographers, or help me get everything ready. That could be your new job if you were interested.”
“Harry, I couldn’t ask you to do that.” You argue. “That’s just another person that’ll have to be paid. I didn’t do anything to get those positions anyway.” You know that all of the people on his crew were exceptionally talented, and that just wasn’t you.
“You let me see how wonderful you are at photography, that’s what you did.” You’re surprised that he remembers that. You had only shown him your work once. And it was the only time when the two of you were enemies that he didn’t have anything rude to say.
“H…” You’re still not sure about the idea. Of course, it would be fun, but you really have no business being there.
“Please? I don’t think I can go months on end without seeing you.” He whines. “I could barely go three hours.”
“Fine.” You give in. “But only if I get to stand in the audience and watch the show at least a couple times.” You had always wanted to see one of his shows from the audience, to see how well he interacted with everyone.
“Deal.” He says without hesitation.
“Alright, fine. I’ll go.” You concede. He does a mini celebration, shimmying his body slightly.
“You wanna go tell our friends after dinner, baby?” You suggest.
“Baby? I like it.” He says, blushing because of the pet name.
“I mean, you are my boyfriend now.” You reason, but also just liking the way that it sounds coming out of your mouth.
“That’s true, love. And yeah, let’s go tell our friends after dinner.” He leads you to the kitchen, fixing the both of you a plate and sitting down with you to eat.
*
After you clean up from dinner, you head out to the bar that your friends told you to meet them at.
You walk into the bar hand in hand with Harry. He sits in the booth first, dragging you in after him. 
“Do you wanna tell them?” You lean in and whisper into Harry’s ear.
He just nods, turning to Lexi and Sam. “Um, guys, we’re kinda, um, dating.” 
“Okay.” Sam says. Lexi nods, looking completely unfazed.
“What?” How are they being so calm about this?
“We figured it would happen. The chemistry between the two of you is impeccable. You had more passion towards each other when being dickheads than either of you have for anything else. It was just a matter of time.” Lexi explains, as if it’s completely obvious.
How they knew it was going to happen, you have no clue. You couldn’t even see yourself ending up with him. But maybe it was because you didn’t have the outside perspective. 
*
A few months later, you’re on a tour bus to the first venue, and you can already feel the adrenaline running through your veins. 
The very first show, you watch from the audience, taking in the scene. Seeing how his fans react, how he works the audience.It was good to study the subject before photographing them. 
Also, though, getting to watch your man live his dream is pretty exhilarating. And getting to go along for the ride with him is even better.
*
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gyucore · 3 years
Text
to reach a happy ending
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pairing: beomgyu x reader
tags: fluff, childhood friends to lovers
word count: 1.6k
warnings: beomgyu swears like once
prompts:
017: "A fairytale with a happy ending always brings a smile to my face."
023: "Do you believe in love at first sight?"
— requested by ⛅ anon! sorry this took so long to make. i hope you like it!! ♡
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"Ew, look at this." You hand the dusty old photo album to Beomgyu who's sprawled across the floor by your side.
"Wait—" He stops you, rolling away before letting out a sneeze so loud that it managed to echo off the dusty untouched walls of his old room. The poor guy couldn't help it, his room hadn't been cleaned since he moved out in the middle of high school, and his mom preferred to keep things as they were— dust and all. You wonder if it was simply an excuse to clean one less room.
Beomgyu did say he had dropped in yesterday without notice. You'd think he'd want to spend some quality time with his parents first, but he'd decided to invite you over after spending a single night under this roof. Having heard nothing but radio silence from your best friend in years, you were thrilled to get to see him again. And what better way to shed off the ever present awkwardness in the beginning than to go through old photo albums?
"Okay, show me." Beomgyu rolls back to your side, scooting in closer to rest his head on your lap.
You turn the photo album, pointing at one photo in particular of you and Beomgyu dressed as a knight and damsel in distress— Beomgyu playing the role of the latter. Contrary to the roles, you were pummeling Beomgyu to the ground as if having caught a thief, and Beomgyu was shoving his handkerchief to your face, blocking your eyesight. The context behind the photograph alludes you, but this might just be a case of seven-year-olds doing whatever they want whenever.
"The fuck you mean ew? I look great in that dress!" Frowning, Beomgyu grabs the album to stare longer at his past self's glory.
"Lying to yourself isn't good for you, Gyu." You jokingly disapprove. It was fun seeing his reactions right after.
"Oh, look at these."
Beomgyu points at a photo of you and him on stage, wearing the same costumes as before. You figured it was for a play back in first grade when you two had been classmates. The next series of photos included one of you holding out a sword towards a kid in a cheap dragon costume, one of Beomgyu holding back his tears after tripping over and ripping his dress, and ones of you rushing to Beomgyu and kissing away his tears.
"This takes me back." Beomgyu lights up with a smile, failing to notice the surprise on your face. "Remember when your mom made us believe that kissing any injuries we had would make it go away? I knew you wanted to help me back then but I couldn't stop crying and tell you were it hurt, so you started kissing all over my face hoping it'd go away."
You find yourself laughing at your past self's foolishness. "But did it work?" You ask in between laughs.
"Well," Beomgyu chuckles, getting up from his position on your lap. "I don't think it would've worked if another person had done it. But since it was you— Wait." He takes one last look at the album, letting slip a wheeze before placing it back in its box. "Mom wrote something right below the photo."
"What did she write?" You ask, holding out your hands for Beomgyu to grab.
"A fairy tale with a happy ending always brings a smile to my face." Beomgyu tells you as he helps you up, trying his best to keep a straight face after delivering that line.
The two of you burst into laughter at his mother's words. You knew she'd been fond of fairy tales all her life but the caption was taking you out. Beomgyu was literally crying in the photo yet somehow this, to her, was a happy ending.
You eventually take notice of all the photos plastered around his room, some framed, and some simply stuck to the walls— memories of happier times. Most were of you and him, and in some, just you. He'd shown off the Polaroid camera his mother bought for him in seventh grade, proclaiming he'd only take photos of moments he'd want to keep in his memory forever. It never actually crossed your mind that a lot of them would be of you.
Beomgyu notices your wandering eyes and chuckles, placing an arm around your shoulder. The distance between you shrinks as he holds you closer. And at that moment, you take note of everything that's changed.
He'd gotten taller since the last time you saw him. Gone was the lanky boy you knew, evident in the way his muscles flexed with every small movement you wish you hadn't noticed. Beomgyu had grown his hair out; the thick, wavy locks tucked behind his ears, covering the back of his neck. The deepness of his voice had been a surprise when he greeted you at the door earlier, but you held back from pointing it out.
You feared that if you acknowledged all the changes, you'd be forced to face reality. That things weren't the same anymore, no matter how hard you tried. After all, Beomgyu wasn't the only one who changed. You had quite the few character development arcs yourself, and experiences which Beomgyu remained oblivious of. And somehow despite that, in his presence, you started to feel like your old self again.
Beomgyu's invitation had come as a surprise last night. You thought he'd forgotten about you, what with all the silence these past few years.
Life continued on as it should even without Beomgyu by your side, but you could argue that all the amazing experiences you've had on your own would've been better if he were there to experience it with you. And now here you were in his old room, pretending everything was the same as he'd left it.
You look up at your old friend, wanting to tell him what had been plaguing your thoughts the entire day but find yourself tongue tied when his dark eyes stare back into your own. And you wonder, how many times had it been that you'd stared into each other's eyes just like this? How many times had he pulled you close into his arms all those years? And just how many nights had you spent wondering if your feelings for him had grown into something more?
"I missed you." Beomgyu speaks first, his gaze never faltering.
Hearing his voice, you swear you could've melted right then and there. Part of you had wished he'd tell you those exact words, confirming that it hadn't been just you who'd been wanting to see him all these years.
"I missed you too."
Beomgyu could only smile at your response.
His arm leaves your shoulder— hands slowly finding their way to your own. His hold was gentle as he slowly guided you to face him.
"Don't laugh, but," Beomgyu starts. "Do you believe in love at first sight?"
"Love at fir—"
The question throws you off.
"What?"
"I heard you the first time!" You cut him off, wanting so bad to cover your face from the secondhand embarrassment. "I can't believe you just said that. What even happened to you in college?"
"Hey! At least hear me out before you make fun of me." Beomgyu bursts out laughing at your reaction, his thumbs caressing the back of your hands to help you calm down. "Judging from your reaction, I'm guessing your answer is a no. And I honestly felt the same too until a few hours back."
"Okay, you lost me there."
"Shut up. What I'm saying is," Beomgyu squeezes your hands, leaning in closer. "I'm sorry I haven't been in touch the last few years. I had a lot of trouble adjusting, and it took a while for me to really get the hang of living alone. I wanted to talk to you as soon as I got there but then I thought that maybe it would've been better for you if I left you to live your own life for a while too."
"Beomgyu.." You squeeze his hands back, sensing the sincerity in his eyes.
Beomgyu shakes his head. "I know this sounds silly and all, but I didn't want you to feel the emptiness I felt when I left. I wanted you to go and make experiences of your own without me."
You frown, refraining to speak until he's done.
"But then I couldn't stop thinking about you. Everywhere I went, I'd think of you and how the place would've been better if we got to hang out there together. Every time I had fun or ate something that tasted good, I wanted you to share the experience with me."
Beomgyu sighs. "Honestly, I thought I could make it through my visit home without seeing you but I passed by your house on my way home yesterday and I just.. I couldn't hold back. And when I saw you for the first time in years at the front of my doorstep.. I knew I had to tell you."
Half of you knew what to expect, and the other half doubted the reality of the situation. But all the doubts instantly melt away as soon as Beomgyu closed the distance between you, pressing your foreheads together.
Face flushed, you stare at him in awe and notice he had his eyes closed shut. "Cute." You thought.
He whispers in a voice so quiet you could barely hear.
"I like you."
You couldn't hold it in any longer, the rush of emotions crashing into you like raging waves against a cliff. The next moment, you find yourself inching closer and closer, face heating up even more as you press your lips against his as a reply.
Beomgyu's eyes widen, body freezing in place. He hadn't exactly expected you to respond so soon, especially not like this. And he couldn't be happier.
You feel Beomgyu returning the kiss, his hands going up to cup your face— his hold gentle. The two of you wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment for as long as life permits, because for once, you could finally see the path to your happily ever after slowly unraveling.
This was just the beginning.
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imagine-docx · 4 years
Text
interested.
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Summary: Being best friends with Bucky, he always thinks you’re trying to get with Steve, when in reality, that is far from the truth. [college!chubby!]
Warnings: Swearing.
A/N: helloooo, i know i have been practically dead. but post secondary really ain’t it chief. here’s a small chub buck fic before i go back into the void that is my 3 hour online zoom lectures. - amanda 💛
»»————- ★ ————-««
First year religion, with Professor Hill was quite possibly the most boring class to exist, but hey, that’s how you met Bucky Barnes. First year religion was a mandatory course that you had to take for psychology, and Bucky had to take for history. During the first lecture Prof Hill made you turn to the person next to you and discuss ideas, which happened to be Bucky. 
The two of you felt so comfortable with each other, that you were always sitting next to each other during lectures, and eventually becoming the bestest of friends. To the point where you two spent breaks together, Friday nights together, hell he even came to a few of your classes, even though he shouldn’t be there as he wasn’t enrolled in them. 
Even Bucky was surprised at this close friendship. He always had the small thought in the back of his mind saying, “She’s just using you for an easy ninety. Once the semester is over, she’s gone.” But to his surprise, here you were in your fourth year, still as strong as ever. 
He could pinpoint the moment he realized he was in love with his best friend. 
Second year, it was a random party that Thor was holding around early November. You were wearing a basic grey long sleeved shirt, some dark blue ripped jeans, and a pair of heels. You were dancing with Nat and Wanda, and he felt the switch in him flip, and he saw you in an affectionate way.
Needless to say, he left the party and went through a crisis at two am in the back of an Uber, at his new realization. 
Since that day, he kept his feelings to himself. Not even telling his best friend Steve about the feelings he harboured towards you. 
He always felt insecure whenever he was around you. You were always glowing, even when you had no makeup on and were in sweats on the days you had 9 am lectures. You were always this ball of sunshine that anyone would be glad to hang out with. But here he was, stomach protruding over the top of his jeans, sweaters used to hide how thick his arms actually were, and all around embarrassed about the way he looks. You could never possibly like someone like him back.
»»————- ★ ————-««
It was the rare Friday night, where the two of you couldn’t meet because you had a gender studies essay to write, and he had an essay due for ancient civilizations. But, of course, the two of you were on FaceTime.
“You going to Thor’s party tomorrow?” He asked, typing in his name and student number.
“Depends, I still have three readings and a discussion post over my head for Drax.” You responded, finishing up the last sentence.
“You should come, you’ve been pulling essays out of your ass since the semester started. You need to have some fun,” Bucky said, studying your face as you yawned.
“Perks of being a social science major,” you responded, making slight adjustments to your essay.
“Please?” He begged, “I need my best friend there.”
“We will see.”
»»————- ★ ————-««
God, three years later, and he still didn’t understand how you pulled off every look possible. Last night you were in one of his hoodies, hair greased, and no makeup on. Today you were pulling off a slightly oversized band tee, some ripped jeans, hairstyled and effortless makeup.
“Didn’t expect you to be around here, thought Drax owned you tonight” Bucky jokes.
“Thought about it. But a certain Brooklyn boy talked me into coming. There’s always pulling an all nighter tomorrow night,” you said, taking a drink from your cup.
“Glad to know I am useful.”
The two of you spent a good chunk of time talking by the bar. The two of you didn’t stop until Sam pulled him away for some beer pong. 
You debated going over to your friend group, but from where you were, it looked like they were wasted out of their minds. And talking to them will probably result in them drunkenly saying that you should fess up and admit your crush to Bucky. And knowing your exact luck, he would be around, and that would be a hard hole to dig yourself out of. 
You decided that you were gonna get some peace in the kitchen. You were sitting on one of the counters, hearing drunken screams, while scrolling through Instagram. 
“You know, it would be easy to tell him how you feel,” you look up to match the voice to the person, only to see Steve.
“And I am assuming Nat did some drunk mumbling to you,” you mumbled, looking down into your cup.
“Or anyone with eyes could see the way the two of you look at each other,” Steve said, leaning against the fridge next to the counter you sat on.
You let out a sigh, “He doesn’t see me in that way. I’m just his best friend.”
“He looks at you like you hung every single star in this galaxy. I should know, I was told I look like that when I look at Nat.”
You laughed and punched him in the bicep, “At least the loverboy admits it.”
Bucky was looking for you, passing by the kitchen he saw that you and Steve were smiling, laughing and talking. He never realized how much of a couple the two of you looked like. Absolutely perfect for each other.
He felt nauseous and decided to head home. Of course you wouldn’t like him, you liked guys who were fit, like Steve. An absolute sweetheart, like Steve. Someone who could care for you, like Steve. Steve.
»»————- ★ ————-««
The next morning, he saw that you were calling and kept the talking to a minimum, saying he didn’t feel good and hung up.
He needed to get his feelings in check before he exploded. 
From then on, he always scheduled stuff with Steve too. You deserved it.
You deserved happiness, even if it was with Steve and not him. 
He would make coffee dates on campus, and never show up. Or invite you for movie night at the apartment, and at the absolute last second ‘have his shift extended’ at work.
»»————- ★ ————-««
At some point, he just started blatantly ignoring you. From phone calls, to texts, to even practically running away from you.
The last straw for you was the day your sociology professor let you go early for the day. And you were already feeling under the weather, so you just decided to head back to your dorm, and spend the rest of your day taking it easy. 
While you were walking down the tunnel from your class, you saw an all familiar head of hair walking in the opposite direction. You shouted his name several times, and practically ran after him. And you knew he saw and heard you, but continued to walk away from you.
You finally stopped, realization hitting you. He doesn’t like you anymore, and you don’t know what you did. You took a deep breath, turned around and walked back to your dorm.
You sat on your bed, confused as to what the fuck you did to him for him to do this. At that point, you gave him the space he wanted. You stopped texting him, calling him, even going over to his apartment.
»»————- ★ ————-««
What caused Bucky to do all of this? Two days prior, he finished his contemporary civilizations class and was on his way to the student centre to get something to eat before his colonial encounters class. 
When he walked into the centre, he was greeted with you and Steve sitting at a table, laughing about something, while drinking bubble tea. 
He felt something stab him in the chest. It’s supposed to be him. He’s supposed to be the one taking you out for bubble tea. He’s supposed to be the one making you laugh like that.
It was then he realized, he didn’t set up this meeting. He drew the conclusion, that he pushed the two of you closer together, and that neither of them wanted him to know.
He knew he was acting childish. But he didn’t care.
»»————- ★ ————-««
Since the encounter after your sociology class, you haven’t messaged him, called him, or even made the effort to see him. It was starting to bother him. He felt empty.
He missed the random texts he would get from you about something stupid in your readings. Or the ‘I accidentally watched too much Netflix, and my discussion post is due in an hour and I have NOTHING’ texts. Or you randomly calling in the middle of the night asking him if he wanted to meet up for milkshakes. 
All he would see was Instagram stories or posts of you. Whether it was you at a party getting wasted with your friends, or if it was you being cozy and studying, or you and your friends doing late night stupidity. He missed having you around.
Every single thought he has, would be of you. What were you doing? Who were you hanging out with? Did you get enough sleep? Did you eat anything for the day?
He eventually decided to start essays early just so his thoughts weren’t fogged by you.
»»————- ★ ————-««
Bucky was wrapping up his notes on his latest reading. As he closed his textbook, he felt something collide with the back of his head. He turned around to see Steve sitting on his bed. “What?”
“Why are you ignoring her?” Steve asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bucky turned back around.
“You damn well know what I am talking about. So, answer the question, why are you ignoring her?” Steve asked.
“Why do you care? That’s your girlfriend.” Bucky seethed. 
A laugh erupted from Steve, “She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Then why do the two of you act like it.” He muttered.
“Because she’s giving me pointers on asking out Nat,” he responded, “I bet you feel so stupid.”
Bucky turned back around in shock, “Wait, you’re not dating her?”
“Never was. It’s cute seeing how jealous you are,” Steve said, getting up, “Go get your girl.”
»»————- ★ ————-««
Bucky has never sprinted out of his apartment so fast. He was about to walk up the stairs leading to your dorm, when he was about to open the door, the door opened revealing Carol. “Oh hey Buck. What are you doing here? You know she moved out like last month right?” she asked.
He never realized that you left the dorms, hell he didn’t even know where you were now. “Oh yeah, force of habit.” He nervously laughed.
“Anyways, I’m late for my date. Tell her I said hi!” She said walking off.
»»————- ★ ————-««
Bucky returned to the apartment and was pacing around. He didn’t know where you could have gone. Nat and Wanda had no space, so you wouldn’t be there. Your parents were way too far out, and you wouldn’t want to commute all the way back. His mind was running through possibilities. 
Steve and Sam were just looking on at the spiral that was occurring in front of them. “Does he…?” Sam asked.
“Nope.” Steve responded.
“Ah.” Sam responded.
“Where could she have gone though? I don’t get it.” Bucky said to himself. 
“Can I tell him?” Steve asked.
“Nah.” Sam said.
“Wait, you guys know where she is? Why don’t you tell me?” Bucky said with despair laced in his voice. 
Sam sighed, “Nat and Wanda.”
And with that Bucky practically sprinted out the door. 
»»————- ★ ————-««
Wanda and Nat were out for the night, leaving you in the living room finishing up your essay for sociology. Wrapping it up, you slapped the submit button, and headed for the shower.
Upon getting out and changing into some sweatpants and hoodie, you were contemplating what you wanted to eat. Until you heard a knock on the door, confused, you opened it to Bucky, you were about to close it but he managed to let out a, “Can I talk to you?”
You were about to say, “No.”
But once you heard his voice cracked, when he said, “Please,” your heart broke, and accepted talking to him.
»»————- ★ ————-««
The two of you sat on top of the building overlooking the city. Bucky was looking at the view of the city, whereas, you were sitting on the bench. 
He took note that you were shivering, and he shrugged off his jacket, wrapping you up in it. You were trying to shrug it off, when he said, “You’re gonna get sick.” You accepted that he was probably gonna tie you up in it so you don’t take it off, so you kept it on.
“So why did you ignore me?” You said, looking down at your feet.
“I thought you were dating Steve, and I got jealous. I know I pushed the two of you together, but I still couldn’t bear the thought of him being the one dating you.” He muttered, taking a seat next to you.
“Wait, you were jealous? Why?” You asked, confusion laced your voice.
“I really like you, god I’ve liked you for so long and you deserve someone better than me. Someone who’s fitter, someone who’s better looking, someone you would want to be seen with.” He said, looking down at his feet, hair falling into his face.
You pushed the hair out of his face, “No. I deserve someone who is willing to pick me up for burgers and milkshakes at 3 am. I deserve someone who is willing to drop anything they're doing to come and spend time with me. I deserve someone who would respond to my psych readings, even though they aren’t in my program. I deserve you.”
“You like me?” Bucky stammered.
“Wasn’t it obvious?” You asked. “I thought me calling you at three am because I missed you was obvious.
He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you closer, kissed your hair before muttering an, “I’m sorry.”
“I’m only accepting your apology under one condition,” you said.
He looked at you with the biggest eyes ever. Ready to do anything you even asked for. “Get bubble tea with me?” You asked.
“How about tomorrow we take a trip out of the city, to a zoo or aquarium, and bubble tea?” He said with pleading eyes.
“Only if it’s a date,” you said smiling at him.
“Anything for you.” he said, finally leaning into kiss you.
815 notes · View notes
fruitydiaz-archived · 3 years
Text
that’s my boy
eddie slips up after a successful rescue on a call and, while looking at buck looking beautiful and overjoyed, says “that’s my boy” to himself. except chim, hen, and bobby are all there when he says it.
buddie, pre-relationship, sweet fluff, pining
2,184 words
AO3 link
That’s my boy.
Eddie doesn’t mean to say it. It’s not like it’s even a phrase that he thinks often — not in regards to Buck.
Okay, so maybe, every once in a while Eddie will look at him doing something that is so whole-heartedly Buck — like performing a rope rescue when an apartment complex is on fire, or risking his life to save his ex-girlfriend’s fiance because he made a promise, because he’s always ready and willing to fall on the sword for the people he loves, even after they’ve hurt him, (Eddie wishes he wouldn’t do that so often, actually, but he understands), or organizing a Christmas party with Athena and inviting his whole family because he knew how upset they were that he wouldn’t be spending Christmas with them, or building gingerbread houses with Chris and Denny — and being happy to do it nonetheless. Just occasional things like that that make Eddie pause and make pride swell up inside him and remind him just how much he loves this man — despite all of the stress and anguish he causes him on a regular basis.
Which, is also, not something he thinks about often. The love thing, that is. The stress and anguish — that’s constant.
But when they’re on a call and Buck is ripping his helmet off, wiping the sweat from his forehead, skipping after the ambulance as it pulls away, overjoyed that his on-his-feet thinking and bull-headed determination saved yet another life, Eddie can’t help it when he smiles fondly, shakes his head, and chuckles to himself.
“That’s my boy.”
He doesn’t really process what he’s said until he looks back up and sees Hen, Chimney, and Bobby all staring at him. Chimney’s stopped chewing on his gum, mouth hanging a little open, Hen’s frozen with one perfectly manicured eyebrow raised, and Bobby’s looking at him with that look he gets when another imaginary piece of some metaphorical puzzle that only he is privy to falls into place. He tends to look at Eddie like that often, especially around Buck.
Eddie just stares back at them, tilting his head to the side a little, and pursing his lips.
“Your boy?” Hen prompts eventually, an amused grin slowly spreading on her face. Eddie feels his cheeks warm but shakes his head in confusion.
“What? I didn’t say—” Chimney starts shaking his head violently, cutting Eddie off.
“Nope, nope, you definitely did say those words.”
Eddie opens his mouth to argue that no he didn’t otherwise he would remember and also he’s never once said those words about Buck out loud so, of course, he wouldn’t — but Bobby holds his hand up, silencing all of them. Eddie tries hard to convince himself that the smirk on Bobby’s face isn’t also amused, because he likes to think that Bobby’s above all that. He’s their Captain, after all.
“Alright, you guys. Let’s wrap this up, okay?” Bobby says gently, gesturing to the scene in front of them. Eddie nods, avoiding making eye contact with either Hen or Chimney.
He does sneak a glance at Buck, eventually. He can’t really help himself. Buck’s like a magnet for him. He’s pretty sure he’d be able to spot Buck instantly, in any crowd, on any day. It’s partially this itch he has, this need to know where the people he cares about are, at all times, just to know that they’re safe. But also, there’s just a natural gravity that Buck has. Eddie always finds himself being pulled closer and closer.
It’s golden hour and Buck’s leaning against a post on the side of the street, talking to Athena and Bobby, making exaggerated gestures with his hands as he relays what just happened to them, even though they were right there with him. His hair looks soft and tousled, like it always does when he pulls his helmet off at the end of a call. The sunlight is hitting it just so, illuminating the edges of it and making it glow golden, like a halo around Buck’s head. Warmth blooms in Eddie’s chest at the sight.
That’s my boy.
When he turns back to the scene Hen and Chimney are smirking at him again. He rolls his eyes, finishes packing up, and spins to jog back to the truck.
Eddie likes to make his home in denial. It’s an island that keeps him safe, keeps him away from all of the things that could hurt him — like the reality of his feelings.
He’s known for a while that he feels something for Buck — he’s just not always sure what that feeling is. The thing about his feelings for Buck is that...not only are they absolutely terrifying to him — but they’re also confusing. He doesn’t fully understand his feelings because he’s not sure they're anything he’s ever felt before, not all at once, at least. He wasn’t expecting this — not from Buck.
Eddie doesn’t let a lot of people get close to him. It’s just a thing that he developed in his childhood that got stronger over time, the more he experienced loving and losing people. You don’t let people close, you don’t get hurt when they leave. That’s a simple fact.
But Buck hadn’t listened to that. Buck didn’t care that Eddie was scared of letting him in only for him to leave — because for Buck leaving wasn’t even an option. He had fucked up once and he spent every single moment since doing his damned best to make sure Eddie knew that he was ride or die, with him ‘till the end of the line. And he meant it, Eddie knew that.
So it could be easy for Eddie to look at Buck and be grateful that he has a friend like that, a support system that, no matter how hard either one of them tried, they couldn’t fuck up. But Eddie’s never felt the way he feels about Buck for anyone, ever. He had close friends in his childhood, and they always said they would be together forever, but none of them were around anymore. What did they have to base their loyalty off of, anyway? It was never serious when they said it, it was kid stuff.
And in his adulthood, most of his friends were from the army. They shared a lot of experiences that nobody else would understand, and came a lot closer than your average friendship, given the circumstances, but none of them made Eddie feel the way he does about Buck.
Certainly, no one looked at Christopher the way Buck did, save for his own family, and that was enough to throw Eddie’s entire body into some strange whirlpool of emotions he rarely let himself get swept up in.
Chris was Eddie’s entire world. He wanted to protect him from every hurt imaginable, even when he knew he couldn’t. Sometimes that protectiveness led to him making mistakes — but he was a parent and that was bound to happen, and he had to learn how to adjust, how to step back, and let Christopher find out things on his own. He had to let him get hurt, sometimes, and then encourage him to get back up.
But the hurt Eddie wanted to protect him from most of all was the hurt of abandonment. He never wanted to let another person into his life again, not without knowing that they would stay.
And Buck? Buck would do anything for Christopher. He never even had to say it because Eddie just knew. He said it in all of his actions, the way he walked all day after the tsunami, bleeding from his arm, collapsing in exhaustion only after he saw that Chris was safe. The way he encouraged him to never give up, to find a way to do whatever he wants. He loves Chris, and that makes Eddie love him even more.
He’s loved people before. Even if he’s not one to say it often, not in those words at least, he recognizes it when he feels it. He loves his family, his parents, his sisters, his aunt, his Abuela — even when they’re overstepping his carefully set boundaries. He loved the guys in his unit. He loved Shannon, he loves Christopher. He loves everyone at the 118, the family he chose.
But Buck is something different. Buck is something he’s never felt before.
When he realized he loved Shannon, it was like a hurricane that came out of nowhere, rushing over him, drenching him in its rains, pulling him in every direction, and leaving him entirely breathless. She was a perfect storm of love and chaos. One that he doesn’t regret, but one that he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to experience again. He’s not sure he could survive that kind of devastation again.
But Buck wasn’t anything like that, even though Eddie’s pretty sure that he should be, with all of his fierce love and reckless abandon. Eddie realized he loved Buck like watching a sunrise, slowly, gradually, growing warmer and brighter over time. He was a sight that made your chest ache from its beauty, one of those things that made you feel lucky to be alive, one of those things that made you feel like you were blessed to witness it.
He left Eddie feeling stunned and off-balance, but warm, and comforted at the same time. The thing about sunrises was that you could always count on them to come back around the next day. No matter what storms the night before brought, the sun was always there in the morning.
Buck made Eddie feel safe.
That’s my boy.
He’s packing up his gear in the truck when he spots Buck out of the corner of his eye, jogging towards him. He pretends to ignore him, ducking his head and smiling to himself as he shuts the door on the truck.
“Hey man, did you see that?” Buck says as he approaches Eddie. His voice is light and airy, like he’s a little out of breath from the jog over, which would make sense since he’s still got at least 70 pounds of gear on him. But he doesn’t look bothered by it at all. He just clasps his hands together and smiles at Eddie with that giant, overly pleased, and just on the verge of shy smile — the one he always shares with Eddie.
Eddie leans against the truck casually, crossing his arms and nodding at Buck, smiling.
“Yeah, I saw it. You did good, kid.” His heart constricts at the way Buck lights up at the praise. It’s times like these where he wants nothing more than to reach out and touch him, card a hand through his hair and then bring him in gently, tucking Buck’s face into his neck and holding him close, whispering all the words of encouragement he never got to hear when he was younger.
But he settles for this, standing at arm's length and keeping his praise to a minimum.
“We did good,” Buck corrects, punching Eddie’s shoulder lightly. “We make a good team.”
The team, Eddie knows, consists of Bobby, Chimney, Hen, Buck, and him. But when Buck looks at him like that, when he says things like that, it makes him feel like it's about just the two of them.
Buck’s matching his position, leaning against the truck now, looking down at Eddie with his flushed face and his sweet smile. It’s like they’re the only two people in the world. It’s an intoxicating feeling, so addictive that Eddie often wishes that he could just let himself get lost in it, soak up all of the love and attention that just radiates off of Buck, stretch out in the sunlight and just let it warm him all over, be utterly and unashamedly selfish with it. To relish in that love that he’s not always sure he deserves.
He opens his mouth, not sure what exactly he’s going to say next, when Hen appears behind him, patting him on the shoulder.
“Hey, Eddie, you and your boy ready to head back home or are you just gonna stand there looking pretty all night?” She shoots him a sly grin over her shoulder as she passes by them to climb into the truck. Eddie freezes a little at the teasing, not sure what he’ll say if Buck turns to him, tilts his head, and asks what did she mean by your boy?
But he doesn’t tilt his head in question at all. His eyes lock with Eddie’s for just a second and the corners of his lips twitch like he’s fighting a smile. Eddie feels his breath get trapped somewhere in his chest and then Buck turns away and disappears into the truck.
He hangs back for a bit, struggling to catch his breath again, nodding at Chimney and Bobby as they brush past him. Bobby pauses before he rounds the truck, looking back at Eddie with an amused smile.
“You good, Diaz?” He calls. Eddie looks away before nodding, waving a hand, and pulling the door open.
“All good, Cap.”
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wtf-yoongi · 4 years
Text
“I need one of those baths”
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pairing | yoongi x reader
genre/warnings | literally how can giving a bath to yoongi have any warnings except for it’s 100% fluff and i’m 100% soft
words | 2,576
note | i had this idea and i’m sorry in advance oh man
Your head instinctively turns.
The TV is on. You’re sitting down with your legs close to your body when you hear a sharp noise coming from the door. You know it all too well – it’s Yoongi’s keychain hitting the wooden door with the many other keys he just has to carry around with him.
From the moment he walks through the door, you know it’s been one of those days. His hair is sticking to his forehead a little bit and he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Even more so than usual.
It’s that time of the year again. Deadlines are almost here.
You know that not just because he casually mentioned it like it was nothing a few weeks ago, but also because of the way his shoulders don’t really fit into his usual posture and he seems to push every single body cell to just drag himself to the sofa and collapse next to you.
You notice there are little pen stains on his fingers that he couldn’t wash away.
“So I’m guessing it was a productive day at work,” you start slowly, waiting for an affirmative response. “It’s past 10 p.m.”
“I guess you could say that,” he says with his eyes closed, his voice small and calm despite looking like he just crossed the whole desert to come home. “I’m sorry for being so late, but there’s still some adjustments and…”
“How much time left now?”
“Ah, a couple more days, I guess… Until we have to send some things for them to hear.” Yoongi moves his body slightly, trying to make himself more comfortable. “I don’t wanna talk about that, I’m sick of talking about work.”
He laughs lightly at his own statement and opens his eyes, right hand looking for yours. When Yoongi finds it, he immediately intertwines your fingers and brings them closer to his chest.
“I need to ask you something, though.”
This guy has plans. You nod your head for him to go on.
“I need one of those baths,” he confesses in a very low voice and a small smile appears on his lips. He knows you know what he’s talking about.
“Wanna spend the bath card so early in the month?” You ask with a raised eyebrow. “Must be serious.”
“It is,” he agrees. “Very serious indeed. Literally, the whole next album depends on this.”
“I thought you said it was almost finished,” you scoff, turning your whole body in his direction.
“Yeah, but the finishing touches are like the icing on the cake, I can’t mess it up now or everything will be ruined.”
You both laugh lightly, almost as if you’re trying not to wake up someone sleeping right next to you.
“I’m so tired, and tense, and stressed out from work, I just need it now,” he tries to convince you, kissing your knuckles for better effect. 
Even if it is supposed to sound exaggerated, you know with a heavy heart that it is actually true. He’s just making fun of his own misery as he usually does. It’s a self-defense mechanism. 
“Come on, it’s my bath card, I can use it wherever I want.”
“Yeah, and a week after this you’ll forget you’ve used it already and ask for a bath again.”
Yeah, that has happened, like, a thousand times before.
“Can’t I just get an advance from the months I won’t be home?”
“You’re getting advances for as long as I can remember, how is that fair to me? I don’t get advances ever.”
“I’ll give you ten baths before going on tour, I promise,” he holds onto your hand a little bit tighter and smiles again. “Please, I just need it.”
You take a deep breath and close your eyes, faking an annoyance you both know it’s not there. You love giving him baths – it’s just one of those intimate things that no one knows about. It’s like waking up in the morning and lazily dragging yourself closer to him as he whines a little bit from wanting to sleep more and not be disturbed, but welcomes you in his arms anyway; or Yoongi brewing coffee and serving you a mug exactly as you like it even though he doesn’t and could never understand how you take your coffee with one and a half teaspoons of sugar (“it’s disgusting, you’re ruining it by trying to make it sweet”).
Without saying a word, you’re the first to move, reaching for the remote to turn the TV off and leave the sofa, dragging Yoongi by the hand he is already holding. When you look behind you, he’s still moving his feet like he doesn’t really want to move his feet at all, but at least he has a shy smile on his face – the smile of contained victory.
Upon entering the bathroom, you leave him for a moment to open the hot water tap on the bathtub and check the temperature until it becomes warm so can you can close drain. Meanwhile, Yoongi is slowly but surely moving his hands to reach for his toothbrush.
“You wanna wash your hair?” You ask casually, picking up the products from where they usually stay inside the shower. Looking over at Yoongi, he slowly nods, so you pick up his shampoo and conditioner too.
Looks like he’s going to fall asleep at any moment now.
You move over to him as he just finishes wiping his lips to get rid of the leftover toothpaste. He looks so soft and sleepy you just can’t resist leaving a kiss there when you get close enough to start stripping him out of his day clothes. Everything is so calm and natural it’s almost like you rehearsed it a thousand times – and you kind of actually did if you count the times this has happened in the past.
“If you fall asleep in the water, I’m gonna have to wake you up and you don’t like that,” you warn him with a smile, one he promptly, but lazily mirrors. “I don’t want you mad at me so you better keep yourself at least 10% awake.”
Yoongi nods slowly again while he helps you free his body of the ripped jeans. “I’ll do my very best.”
As soon as he’s in the water, you turn the tap to slow the flow. There’s a bath cup you bought for the only purpose of helping you give baths to Yoongi and that’s the first thing you reach for to aid you in bringing the warm water to his shoulders. He immediately drops his head in front of him and you can almost feel the tension starting to leave his body.
“Yeah, I really needed that,” he admits, taking a deep breath. “Thanks.”
“I didn’t even shampoo your hair yet,” a small laugh leaves your lips and you lean in to kiss his left shoulder. “I’m sorry about work, I know it’s too much sometimes.”
“It’s part of the deal,” he simply says, and you finally pour enough water to wet his hair. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. How cliché is that?”
“Ninety seven percent cliché,” you agree, picking up some shampoo in your hands to start massaging it into his hair. “But it’s true.”
“How do you think my hair is holding up after being bleached yet again?” He suddenly asks, mocking the state of his own hair. It’s not even a joke anymore, it just needs a break.
“Definitely holding on for dear life,” you both laugh on queue. “Not as bad as last time, though, I think this new shampoo is helping with something.”
“Yeah, I don’t know what it is, but it doesn’t feel as bad.” Yoongi inhales deeply, really enjoying the moment. “I love it when you wash my hair, you do it better than anyone else.”
“This is the epitome of idol who doesn’t even know how to wash his hair anymore because other people do it for him,” you mock him, taking your soapy hand and touching his face with it. 
He turns to stare at you with the most unbelievable smile. “It was supposed to be a compliment, you know?” He moves his hand to his face to wipe it off. “You do everything better than anyone in the team… But I think my opinion is biased.”
“Oh, really?” You ask with an unsurprised voice.
“Yeah, because you sleep in my bed and there are things you do that no one else in our team does to me.”
“Well, good to know, I guess?” 
You smile and keep working on his hair for a few minutes before asking him to close his eyes so you can rinse it properly. Next, you apply the conditioner in silence, turn the tap off completely and move on to scrub his back with that grapefruit-scented thing he loves too much. You can feel him starting to lean forward a little bit.
“Hey, don’t sleep on me,” you try to get his attention and Yoongi soon scratches his eyes. “Just a few more minutes, huh?”
Yoongi slowly turns his head to look at you while you soak the sponge with more water. “Could this last forever?”
“Your fingertips would turn into a pudding and the water would become cold and you would have a sore throat. And all of that in less than 17 minutes,” you smile at him as he pouts. “Come on, wash the rest of your body while I do your back.”
Yoongi is not exactly satisfied with it, but he does as you instruct and moves his hand to reach for the body soap while you massage his shoulders. He isn’t lying, he is tense. You try your best to relieve some of it and all of a sudden he corrects his posture to crack his spine. 
He laughs at your look of horror. 
You absolutely hate it when he does that. It sounds like he is going to break into two completely separate pieces. 
“Ah, that felt nice,” he fully smiles now, knowing pretty well how you feel about that. 
You don’t open your mouth to give him the satisfaction of a reply. Instead, you just move your hand to rinse the conditioner – and his shoulders in the process. Only a few minutes pass before you’re standing up again to grab a towel.
Opening your arms, you spread the towel to welcome him in. When he stands up, you immediately press the towel against his chest, then shoulders, then arms, only stopping when his still wet hands reach for your face. Yoongi leans in for a sweet and delicate kiss.
He doesn’t say anything – and, honestly, he doesn’t really have to. The way he holds your face in his hand protectively and looks into your eyes are probably worth hours upon hours of deep conversation. Nothing needs to be said anymore at this point, so he just moves his hands to circle around your whole body in a tight embrace.
You can’t count the moments you stand in the same position, but long enough so that his hair is dripping on your white oversized shirt, wetting the left side of your hair as well. His body is now growing cold even in the warm bathroom.
“You should get dressed,” you suggest, not having enough courage to actually move. 
“I think I folded that t-shirt I wore to bed yesterday and put it in the second drawer, can you get it for me?” 
He doesn’t move either.
“Sure,” you say, but nothing moves, not even the air around you. “You have to let me go, though.”
“I’ve changed my mind. I’m gonna stay here, freeze to death and get a sore throat, I don’t mind.”
“Stop being silly,” you laugh lightly and take a small step backwards. “You’re really gonna get sick.”
Yoongi reluctantly lets you go, clutching the towel so it doesn’t fall into the water. As you move into the bedroom to get his clothes, you can hear him leave the bathtub and finish drying himself off. 
You get back and hand over his change of clothes. “Are you going to blow dry your hair?”
“Probably should, but I don’t wanna,” he says, doing his best to take the excess water off with the towel and shaking it with his fingers. “Too lazy, too sleepy.”
“It’s gonna be a mess in the morning,” you warn. 
“It’s gonna be a mess anyway,” he corrects. “Who cares? I’m just going to the studio, a hat can cover it all up.”
After getting dressed, he looks at himself in the mirror and you know he’s wondering if it’s too bad to skip skincare for a night. The bags under his eyes are begging for some rest.
“Just moisturize and go to bed,” you laugh at the internal battle he is struggling with. “No one has to know.”
Yoongi finally gives in and picks up some of your own moisturizer for whatever reason. You don’t actually mind and help him out with some leave-in for the hair.
“I know you don’t really like to bleach it, but this color looks so good on you,” you compliment, both of you looking in the mirror. “I think this dark gray is my favorite.”
“It’s so close to black, though. I wish it was just black.”
“I think this is sexy, honestly.”
“Don’t try to change my mind.”
“I’m just saying!” You raised your hands in the air before washing them with warm water to get rid of the leftover product. “You don’t need it, but it looks good on you.”
“Come on, you can’t just say those things,” Yoongi whines, somehow finding a way to hug you from behind and kissing your half-exposed shoulder in the process. “I’m too tired for that now.”
“I didn’t say anything,” you laugh briefly, his movements tickling your neck, while trying to turn both your bodies to finally go to bed.
“Oh, but you did. You can’t just say something is sexy and move on like it’s nothing.”
“It’s just hair.”
“You said I didn’t even need it. Did you mean I’m already sexy enough?”
“I wish I had your self-esteem sometimes.” 
You move closer to the bed and try to pull the covers, but Yoongi is just making things difficult by not letting go of your middle. You’re not complaining, just… Mentioning.
He finally lets go for a few seconds, just enough for both of you to get under the thick comforter. As soon as you pull it to you neck, Yoongi is once again turning to your side, raising one leg to rest on top of yours. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.
“This isn’t because you just gave me a bath, but I really do love you.” He has a shy smile on his lips and opens his eyes again just to stare into yours. “I also love you for giving me a bath, but I want you to know I would love you regardless.”
You can’t help but smile back. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better. Are you feeling better?”
“Much, much better,” he nods.
“Good,” you say, adjusting your face on the pillow to rest in a more comfortable way.
“Say you love me back before I fall asleep,” Yoongi asks, slowly closing his eyes.
“I love you.”
“Good.”
He immediately drifts off.
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